Alright, I think I will post the rest of this story tonight. I think there will be only one or two more chapters, depending on how I divide the rest up.
Reviewer Responses
Siberia= You're right, It could have been longer, but I just couldn't find the words or the emotion to make it so. But I never said anything about Faramir never seeing Elrond again. There is still nearly three years before Elrond goes over the sea, time enough for a sequel.
Susan= yup more is coming, both in this story and hopefully some sequels.
Jackie= I am so glad you think it fits so well. That was one of my main goals, to make the story able to fit into Tolkien's work, so that it really could have happened.
A.E. Hall= I feel the same way about elves. Some people make them seem very impersonal or snobby. I don't think they are that way, and tried to show that. Glad you liked it!
Elf Ears= Unfortunately it is coming to a close. But I hope you have enjoyed it and I hope you'll read the sequels when I write them.
Acacia- Gandalf: I resent that *hic* comment that I *hic* get drunk. Wizards *hic* don't get drunk. *hic* Me: Well, there you have it from the wizard himself. =D And don't worry, I plan on definitely more Faramir stories. And look, the puppy-dog eyes worked, I've updated quicker than I planned. Hmmmmm. Hope you like this chapter!
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Aragorn sighed in frustration. For over two weeks he had tried to speak with Faramir personally, with no success. The Steward's busy schedule, as well as his own, made it nearly impossible for Aragorn to catch his brother by himself. Even when he did, Faramir always managed to find a way to keep from talking. Elladan and Elrohir met the same problem when they tried.
"Your Majesty, the King of Rohan and his escort has entered the City." Aragorn acknowledged the messenger and rose from his throne. Beneath him, he saw Faramir nearly jump up from the Steward's chair in his excitement. //Apparently he is anxious to see a certain White Lady.// The King and the Steward stood at the door of the White Tower and Aragorn amused himself by counting how many times Faramir twisted the Steward's ring around his finger. He was over a hundred when King Eomer finally rode up to the Citadel, Éowyn by his side. They dismounted and walked up to greet Aragorn and Faramir.
"King Elessar, Steward Faramir. It is a pleasure to see you again, my friends." Eomer shook their hands firmly. Was it Faramir's imagination, or was the King of Rohan trying to break his hand? And was he glaring at him?
"The pleasure is ours, King Eomer. If you and your sister would follow me, a breakfast has been prepared for your arrival." The two Kings walked ahead as Éowyn took Faramir's proffered arm.
"It brings me joy to see you again, my love," Faramir whispered to her.
"I have been counting the days."
They walked a few more steps before Faramir spoke again. "You told your brother about my offer of marriage, didn't you?"
"You noticed. Don't worry, he is just being overly protective. He will get over it."
Faramir glanced at the Rohan King's muscular arms and broad back. "I hope so."
Éowyn and Faramir walked hand in hand through the streets of the fifth level. It was late afternoon. The whole morning had been taken up with meetings and protocol, but Aragorn had excused Faramir after lunch so that he could give Éowyn a tour of the lower levels of the city. Starting on the first level, the couple strolled through the streets, enjoying each other's company.
Faramir introduced Éowyn to a few of his friends. Most were of low birth, but Faramir ignored that fact as he always did. Éowyn found it fascinating how he tried to help the peasants. She found that the people loved Faramir for his kindness and their loyalty knew no ends. It especially delighted Éowyn to watch Faramir with the peasant children. He appeared to always have candy to give to them, and the children seemed to adore him. //He will be a wonderful father one day.// Éowyn smiled at the thought. Soon they would be married and the children Faramir played with would be their own. The once proud shieldmaiden found herself dreaming of having her own family with the man she loved.
Éowyn sighed in contentment as she listened to Faramir tell her about the fifth level. "Most of the people living here are traders and craftsmen. Now that the war is over and Sauron is defeated, the demand for luxury goods has gone up and the economy... " Faramir stopped suddenly. Puzzled, Éowyn looked at him. The Steward's smile was gone, replaced by a look of anger, sadness, and something else. Recognition? Faramir's eyes were hard and Éowyn glanced to where they looked. Her eyes settle on a blacksmith's stall just in time to see the blacksmith hit a young boy who looked to be his son. The man was yelling as well.
"You good-for-nothing wretch! Can't you do anything right? You're a worthless piece of trash, you know that?" The smith shoved his son against the hard, iron table, cracking the boy's ribs. "How could the Valar have cursed me with such a son? You stupid, miserable child!" The blacksmith raised his hand to hit his son with a bar of iron when, without warning, he found himself shoved against the wall, a sword to his throat. Rage-filled eyes scowled at him. To the smith's surprise, he found that the man was the Steward of Gondor. And the Steward was not happy.
"Faramir!" Éowyn grabbed the hand that held the sword. The look Faramir had on his face kept her from saying anything else. The hatred, the pure unadulterated hatred in his eyes scared her. She had never seen Faramir like this before. But Éowyn's touch pulled Faramir to his senses.
He glared at the blacksmith. "You are lucky that I do not kill in cold blood." Shoving the man away, Faramir turned and helped the young boy to his feet. "Do you have a mother, any brothers or sisters?"
"No sir."
Faramir nodded and put a supporting arm around the boy's shoulders. "Come on, I am not leaving you here with this monster." He began leading the boy away, followed by Éowyn.
"Where are you taking my son?"
The Steward whirled around and glowered at the smith. "I am taking him to where he will be safe from men like you. You will never lay a hand on this boy again. I swear it." Faramir turned from the man and stormed away as quickly as he could with the young lad.
Éowyn was still shaken from the Steward's outburst but managed to think clearly. "Faramir, where are we going to take him? We can't go to the Houses of Healing, that would be the first place that man would look."
"I will take him to the palace. You go to the houses and bring back a healer." Éowyn nodded and when they reached the sixth level she went to the Houses while Faramir took the boy to the palace.
Faramir managed to get the boy to his room without meeting anyone. "You will be safe here."
"But my father. . . "
"Your father will never hurt you again."
The boy had tears in his eyes. He had to be only eight years old, small for his age, with dark brown hair and green eyes. "But you don't understand. I deserved it. I'm small, too small to help father. I'm worthless" The boy's words sounded so hopeless, so... familiar. Faramir couldn't take it anymore.
"Stay here. Lady Éowyn will be back with a healer. I must... I must go get something. Don't leave this room." The Steward stumbled out of the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. He had to get out, had to think. It was too much, too much to handle. Opening his eyes, Faramir began walking shakily down the hall. He needed fresh air, suddenly the palace seemed stifling.
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I just like tormenting people don't I?
