With that nightmarish incident behind them, Pippin felt more determined than ever to get Faramir out of the Shire for a while. Too many people had witnessed what Camilla had done at Open House and were either tiptoeing around it or were acting apologetic, and Pippin couldn't decide which was worse. He sent another, more urgent letter to Gondor giving a basic outline of what had happened without going into too much detail. Aragorn had already given the Steward leave to visit and claimed he was on his way. Pippin thought he couldn't come fast enough.
As for little Faramir, he pretended not to care about what Camilla had said, but Pippin wasn't fooled. Instead of digging his brushes right into his paints and splashing them all over the paper, Faramir simply sat there swirling them around, as if he couldn't decide what to paint or where to start. He begrudgingly practiced speaking and Pippin thought he saw an improvement, but that may have been wishful thinking on his part.
"Son," he said one day, putting a hand on the lad's shoulder. "You forget all about what Miss Camilla said, okay? You paint whatever you want and don't worry about what anyone else thinks." Faramir had smiled and nodded, but still hesitated when sitting at his paints. He simply held Bunny and stroked its ears, looking lost.
Pippin was relieved when finally he heard the clip-clop of hooves and upon glancing out the window, saw a wonderfully familiar man sitting astride a horse. Unable to stand it any longer, he raced out the door to meet his friend, who pulled on the reins to slow his horse and dismounted with a smile.
"My lord, it's so good to see you!" Pippin cried as he ran with his arms outstretched. Faramir enveloped him in a hug and pat his back. "Thank you so much for visiting. I know it isn't much compared to the splendor of Minas Tirith, but it's cozy at least."
"It is beautiful, Peregrin, and too long since I've had the pleasure of seeing your face." Faramir smiled, and Pippin's heart warmed at seeing it again. There were hundreds of kind men in Rohan and Gondor and he would always owe the king his life and more, but there was something about this man that felt like a kindred spirit to Pippin.
Faramir stood and beckoned to someone behind him. Pippin saw now that he had brought a guard who was riding another horse. "Please take my horse someplace where he can feed on grass. He's well earned it." He stroked the horse's muzzle tenderly and handed the reins to he guard, who took them obediently and led the horse away after Faramir had relieved it of his pack. He and Pippin began walking down the rest of the dirt road toward his home.
"Did you have safe passage?" Pippin asked. He been told that all was peaceful now, but one could never be too sure, especially if Faramir saw fit to bring a guard along.
"Yes, it was very quiet. If you mean to ask about the guard, the king insisted. And it may come in handy to have another horse at the ready."
Pippin was curious to know what was meant by that, but before he could ask, he saw his son's curly head peek out from behind the front door and immediately poke back inside. He hadn't told him about the visitor, thinking it would only scare him more. He knew from his own experience that what a child's imagination cooked up often proved far worse than the real thing.
"Sorry the door is so low," he said. Faramir practically had to fold himself in half to get through without bumping his head. "Please join us for lunch. I already have some sandwiches ready."
"Thank you, Peregrin. I would be honored."
"Just one moment, let me fetch my son." He headed to the bedroom where, as he'd expected, the lad was hiding under the covers. "Come on, Faramir. We have company." The only answer was a whimper and a little shiver from the huddled form. Pippin yanked off the blankets. "There's no reason to be frightened. He's a perfectly nice man and an old friend of Daddy's." Faramir tried to crawl back under the blankets, but Pippin quickly snatched him up and set him on the floor. "Listen to me. You are to be on your very best behavior, all right? Your very best." He took his son's wrist and pulled him into the living room. The advantage of his insisting on carrying his bunny around was that it made pulling himself out of Pippin's grasp much harder, and thus Pippin was able to bring the two Faramirs together in the living room.
The little one stood shock-still, staring up at this giant in his father's house. Never in his life had he seen anyone taller than Daddy (except Uncle Merry, but that was only by a teensy bit), and this man towered over him. His clothes were strange; instead of the bright yellows and greens of the Shire, they were dark and decorated with a white tree over the chest. The man was smiling, but a sword was hanging right next to his hand that was longer than Faramir's entire body.
"Hello, little one," the man said gently. "I've been looking forward to meeting you." Even his voice was big. Big and deep. He took a step closer- a step for him would have been a leap for Faramir or Daddy- and Faramir dove for the protection of his father's legs and clutched Bunny like a lifeline.
"Don't be afraid," Daddy said, placing a hand on his son's head. "This is our friend. His name is Faramir too, you were named after him." He looked up at Faramir, then shifted his eyes to the ground. The man took the hint and kneeled on the floor, hoping this would make him less intimidating. At least now his shoulders didn't brush the ceiling.
"There's nothing to fear," Faramir said, holding out his arm. He noticed the little one's eyes were fixed on the sword and he removed it from his waist. "Don't worry, this was only for protection on the journey here." He quickly pushed it to the side.
Pippin nudged little Faramir by pushing his palm against his back, but his son clung to him. "Go on now, remember your manners."
"S-s-s-so b-b-big," Faramir said.
Pippin chuckled a little. "Stature is relative. In the eyes of man, his height is normal and you and I are very small. But it matters not, Faramir is a good man." He gave a little bow. "We are honored to have you as our guest, Steward. I apologize for my son."
"There's no need," Faramir said. He smiled at the little hobbit, remembering what Pippin had said in his letter. I should warn you: My son is a skittish one; he'll more than likely be terrified of anyone over four feet and he does not speak very well. He is shy even among our kin, so I beg you not be offended if his behavior is less than welcoming. I am hoping that gaining some exposure to Big Folk while he is young will help him to overcome this problem.
Pippin gave him a tour of his home, and Faramir noted with amusement that it was like walking through a dollhouse. Everything was in miniature: the beds, the chairs, the tables. Gandalf had often said that whenever he visited Bilbo, he'd often picnicked his meals outside and had slept on the floor. Faramir could see why; he was afraid to sit in any of the chairs lest he break them, and he knew if he tried to use one of the beds, his legs would dangle right off the edge. And Pippin's furniture was some of the biggest in the Shire.
They soon sat down to a meal outside, much to the relief of Faramir's head and shoulders, and Pippin held his son in his lap to soothe him. The little lad hadn't taken his eyes off the man, not even when Pippin offered him food.
After briefing Pippin on the king and the affairs of the two realms, Faramir said, "I come here not only to visit- though that was certainly the main reason- but also to extend an invitation to you and your son," Faramir said. Pippin stopped mid-chew, interested. "Arenna, daughter of the king and queen, is celebrating her first birthday. There is to be a majestic celebration in Gondor and you, Meriadoc, Samwise, and all of your families are invited to join us."
Pippin shook his head. "My stars, has it been a year already? It seems I received the announcement of her birth only yesterday."
Faramir nodded. "Indeed. Between the king's reconstruction efforts and all the meetings between Gondor, elves, and dwarves, time has flown by. If you would like to attend, you and whoever else wishes it may ride back with me."
Pippin started to say no automatically, but then stopped to consider it. He had been itching for a break from all the gossip in the Shire, and he still longed to see Strider and the others again. If Merry and Sam came, it would be even better, almost like old times. And if Sam's family came- but then Pippin remembered with a pang of regret that both Rosie and Estel were pregnant and their husbands would never leave them on their own while that was the case. But still, this trip could be just what Faramir needed. Pippin could think of no better way to help his son overcome his fears of the world than to see it and travel it. For a hobbit, there was no greater act of bravery. And now that he was no longer in school…
"We would love to," Pippin said. Faramir went still in his arms. Pippin looked down at him and ran his fingers through his hair. "You'll have a grand time, Faramir. Minas Tirith is beautiful. It's a humongous city with some of the finest food-"
"N-n-no," he said, eyes growing huge. "N-no l-l-leave."
"Son-" but Faramir was already squirming out of his arms. Adult Faramir reached for his shoulder. "You and your father will be most welcome there." He started to say more, but in his fright the little lad pushed his hands out and shoved Faramir backward with a surprising amount of force so that the man lost his balance and his head hit the soft earth beneath him.
Pippin was furious. "Faramir Took, you apologize this instant!" But then he caught adult Faramir's eye. The man winked at him and grinned at his namesake.
"That was very good, little one. But I bet you can't do that again." He put his hands on the ground and very slowly started to push himself up. Again the little Took pushed him. It was not quite so hard this time, but Faramir splayed out his arms and yelped as though he'd been struck by an arrow. "Oh! What a hit! Oh, I think as though I may faint!"
Both hobbits were puzzled. Faramir smiled again and slowly pushed himself up once more. "Though I shall attempt to rise, for the sake of Gondor I will get up…I will not be beaten by this little lad from the Shire- ah!" He fell backward dramatically as Faramir pushed him again, gently this time. He rolled around with his hand on the same spot, pretending to moan theatrically. "I've been hit! This could be the end of me. I've been hit." He glanced at the little lad's face and swore he saw a hint of a smile. "No, I will not be down long. I shall raise myself from- no!"
And Faramir pushed him back down, giggling when the man screamed comically. Now he climbed onto his stomach and tried to pin him down. "C-can't g-get up n-n-now!" he said triumphantly. Pippin couldn't help smiling himself.
"Oh, can't I?" Faramir asked slyly. He snuck his fingers into the little hobbit's armpits and tickled him mercilessly. "Can't I? Can't I? Hmm?" Little Faramir shrieked with laughter and Pippin just stared, feeling tears come to his eyes. His son had never laughed like that with anyone except him. That little game had been a stroke of genius; the little lad almost forgotten to be scared.
"N-no! No m-m-more!" Faramir screeched breathlessly, and his namesake scooped him up and stood up with him.
"Little one, how would you like to be even taller than Daddy?" Faramir asked, and the little one nodded eagerly. The man swung the little hobbit onto his shoulders and took careful hold of his feet. "Now look how small your father is compared to you!"
Pippin grinned and stood up, pretending to crane his neck. "Where's my son? He's so high up I can hardly see him!"
"R-right here!" Faramir squealed with delight, running his fingers through the man's hair. "You l-look t-t-tiny, Daddy."
"I'm sure I must from up there," he said. He turned to his friend and put his hand over his heart. Thank you so much, he mouthed. Faramir simply gave him a nod and continued tickling his little namesake's toes, enjoying the giggles that followed.
Pippin brushed a tear from his eyes. He hoped with all his heart that the Steward of Gondor would have children. The man would make an amazing father.
