Chapter 1: In Which Aragorn Recalls Jests Best Forgotten.
Disclaimer: If I actually owned these character's, do you truly believe I would spend my time writing about them? A poor second to actually chasing them across the plains of Rohan and through the trees of Eryn Lasgalen, in my opinion. No, these character's and places are all property of Tolkien Estates, Tolkien Enterprises, and New Line Cinema. Lucky them.
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"Faramir?"
The Steward of Gondor looked up from the book he was reading, then leapt to his feet. "Yes, my lord?"
Aragorn gestured for him to sit back down, "I was merely wondering if you knew the whereabouts of my son."
"I believe the Lords Elladan and Elrohir took him to the gardens," Faramir answered, hesitantly putting down his book. "If you wish for me to assist you in finding him…"
"No, no. I think I am capable of hunting down my own child, Faramir."
"Yes, my lord," the Steward responded. Aragorn restrained his impulse to look around for the elf he had always associated with the word "lord". Elrond had left for the havens, and now his brothers were the lords of that particular haven. And Aragorn was king. Which could prove quite trying on occasion.
"I would advise preparing for tonight soon," Aragorn cautioned, "and perhaps taking something from the kitchens to eat presently. Hobbits can prove to have the appetites of a men twice their height and thrice their girth."
Faramir smiled from personal memories of Gondor's own little hobbit-knight, then appeared startled. "Already? But it is only…" his voice trailed off as he caught sight of the angle of the sun out of the window. Aragorn smiled, recognizing the love of a reader to his tales.
"You have time yet," Aragorn reassured him, "enjoy the book." Then he turned and walked out of the door, a glance backwards showing Faramir as engrossed in the book as he was before.
Aragorn hurried down the halls toward the Queen's Garden, slowing down automatically when he heard footsteps coming. Though no one crossed his path, he was to always appear as the king he never really felt he was.
He finally burst out of the door into the garden. A quick glance revealed nothing, but that didn't deceive Aragorn. He was dealing with Elrohir as well as Elladan and if Elrohir felt like playing a joke, small details such as the apparent lack of hiding places in the garden wouldn't stop him.
Aragorn slowly began to walk down the path as if he was merely enjoying the sun, but out of the corner of his eye he watched for the small details. He caught a glimpse of a blue and smiled. Maybe he would have Eldarion ready for tonight. He moved even slower and even more casually toward one of Arwen's favorite trees at the corner of the garden. Replanted after a delicate journey from Ithilien, it was perhaps the strongest tree in the garden.
Aragorn began alighting the lower branches and climbing up to his brothers and his son with the grace of one raised in an elven home.
"Estel! I thought you would never find us," Elrohir said, obviously delighted that he had.
"When avoiding detection, never wear clothing distinguishable from your environment," Aragorn quoted, nodding his head toward Elladan's blue and silver outer tunic.
"And all that time I thought you were ignoring me!" Elrohir said, mock surprise filling his voice.
"When it comes to finding my son, I could recall your first close combat lesson with the rapier word-for-word if need be," Aragorn said, his eyes going to where Eldarion was enjoying pulling on Elladan's hair as Elladan tried to delicately remove it from the child's grip.
"Oh do tell," Elrohir said "I can't seem to recall that lesson very well,"
"It never happened, Elrohir. Glorfindel taught him the art of that particular weapon. You were hunting for the Yuletide feast." Elladan informed him, having successfully removed fully half of his hair from Eldarion's tight grip.
"Surely I must have taught you something about the weapon!" Elrohir protested, turning back to Aragorn.
"I do recall you informing me that if I couldn't use it properly, not to use it at all."
"Then he came back a few years later and killed three wargs using nothing but a rapier and his bare hands." Elladan finished, pulling his hair into a hasty knot at the back of his neck, and twisted Eldarion around to face his brother making his hair a harder target. Eldarion giggled and proceeded to lean forward and reach for Elrohir.
For a single second, he lost his balance and looked like he was about to fall. Aragorn and Elrohir both dove for him, but Elladan calmly picked him up and rebalanced him on the branch in a safer position, immediately in front of him.
"Maybe we should take him down, carefully," Aragorn said worriedly.
"I seem to recall a certain worried mother saying the same of her son the first time we took him up a tree," Elrohir remarked, even as he began his descent. Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but Elrohir landed lightly on the grass and Elladan handed Eldarion down to his brother, jumping down next to him.
"I would advise getting ready for the feast, King Elessar. I do not think your Queen would take kindly to seeing her King arriving in the feast attired in wrinkled clothes with leaves falling left and right from his person." Elladan said, then with a short bow and a wink, proceeded to take Eldarion up to the castle. Eldarion waved.
"Abandoned by my own son," Aragorn muttered as he scrambled down the tree and began to race after his brothers.
Right before they disappeared in the door, Elrohir turned around and yelled back a common phrase among the brothers. It annoyed Aragorn to no end and delighted his brothers, with their perfect, silky elven locks.
"And Estel, do *something* about your hair!"
A/N: *giggle* couldn't help myself. It's the one negative thing I've been able to find about Aragorn, and I can't let Thalia think she's got the perfect guy, can I? (Nope, I've got him. But he's currently somewhere in Ithilien, making arrangements for his and Faramir's absence. But he'll be here soon. Never fear.) And I felt the need to give Faramir a book. He seems to be the scholarly bookworm in all the young Boromir and Faramir stories, but in the post-war stories, it's never mentioned. So I gave him a book.
Well, that was a nice, pointless chapter. Upon contemplation and an analysis of what I hope the next chapter (and rest of the story) will consist of, I realized that this will probably be the shortest, most pointless chapter of the story. Think of it as a prologue/introduction to the rest of the story
Disclaimer: If I actually owned these character's, do you truly believe I would spend my time writing about them? A poor second to actually chasing them across the plains of Rohan and through the trees of Eryn Lasgalen, in my opinion. No, these character's and places are all property of Tolkien Estates, Tolkien Enterprises, and New Line Cinema. Lucky them.
__________________________________________________
"Faramir?"
The Steward of Gondor looked up from the book he was reading, then leapt to his feet. "Yes, my lord?"
Aragorn gestured for him to sit back down, "I was merely wondering if you knew the whereabouts of my son."
"I believe the Lords Elladan and Elrohir took him to the gardens," Faramir answered, hesitantly putting down his book. "If you wish for me to assist you in finding him…"
"No, no. I think I am capable of hunting down my own child, Faramir."
"Yes, my lord," the Steward responded. Aragorn restrained his impulse to look around for the elf he had always associated with the word "lord". Elrond had left for the havens, and now his brothers were the lords of that particular haven. And Aragorn was king. Which could prove quite trying on occasion.
"I would advise preparing for tonight soon," Aragorn cautioned, "and perhaps taking something from the kitchens to eat presently. Hobbits can prove to have the appetites of a men twice their height and thrice their girth."
Faramir smiled from personal memories of Gondor's own little hobbit-knight, then appeared startled. "Already? But it is only…" his voice trailed off as he caught sight of the angle of the sun out of the window. Aragorn smiled, recognizing the love of a reader to his tales.
"You have time yet," Aragorn reassured him, "enjoy the book." Then he turned and walked out of the door, a glance backwards showing Faramir as engrossed in the book as he was before.
Aragorn hurried down the halls toward the Queen's Garden, slowing down automatically when he heard footsteps coming. Though no one crossed his path, he was to always appear as the king he never really felt he was.
He finally burst out of the door into the garden. A quick glance revealed nothing, but that didn't deceive Aragorn. He was dealing with Elrohir as well as Elladan and if Elrohir felt like playing a joke, small details such as the apparent lack of hiding places in the garden wouldn't stop him.
Aragorn slowly began to walk down the path as if he was merely enjoying the sun, but out of the corner of his eye he watched for the small details. He caught a glimpse of a blue and smiled. Maybe he would have Eldarion ready for tonight. He moved even slower and even more casually toward one of Arwen's favorite trees at the corner of the garden. Replanted after a delicate journey from Ithilien, it was perhaps the strongest tree in the garden.
Aragorn began alighting the lower branches and climbing up to his brothers and his son with the grace of one raised in an elven home.
"Estel! I thought you would never find us," Elrohir said, obviously delighted that he had.
"When avoiding detection, never wear clothing distinguishable from your environment," Aragorn quoted, nodding his head toward Elladan's blue and silver outer tunic.
"And all that time I thought you were ignoring me!" Elrohir said, mock surprise filling his voice.
"When it comes to finding my son, I could recall your first close combat lesson with the rapier word-for-word if need be," Aragorn said, his eyes going to where Eldarion was enjoying pulling on Elladan's hair as Elladan tried to delicately remove it from the child's grip.
"Oh do tell," Elrohir said "I can't seem to recall that lesson very well,"
"It never happened, Elrohir. Glorfindel taught him the art of that particular weapon. You were hunting for the Yuletide feast." Elladan informed him, having successfully removed fully half of his hair from Eldarion's tight grip.
"Surely I must have taught you something about the weapon!" Elrohir protested, turning back to Aragorn.
"I do recall you informing me that if I couldn't use it properly, not to use it at all."
"Then he came back a few years later and killed three wargs using nothing but a rapier and his bare hands." Elladan finished, pulling his hair into a hasty knot at the back of his neck, and twisted Eldarion around to face his brother making his hair a harder target. Eldarion giggled and proceeded to lean forward and reach for Elrohir.
For a single second, he lost his balance and looked like he was about to fall. Aragorn and Elrohir both dove for him, but Elladan calmly picked him up and rebalanced him on the branch in a safer position, immediately in front of him.
"Maybe we should take him down, carefully," Aragorn said worriedly.
"I seem to recall a certain worried mother saying the same of her son the first time we took him up a tree," Elrohir remarked, even as he began his descent. Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but Elrohir landed lightly on the grass and Elladan handed Eldarion down to his brother, jumping down next to him.
"I would advise getting ready for the feast, King Elessar. I do not think your Queen would take kindly to seeing her King arriving in the feast attired in wrinkled clothes with leaves falling left and right from his person." Elladan said, then with a short bow and a wink, proceeded to take Eldarion up to the castle. Eldarion waved.
"Abandoned by my own son," Aragorn muttered as he scrambled down the tree and began to race after his brothers.
Right before they disappeared in the door, Elrohir turned around and yelled back a common phrase among the brothers. It annoyed Aragorn to no end and delighted his brothers, with their perfect, silky elven locks.
"And Estel, do *something* about your hair!"
A/N: *giggle* couldn't help myself. It's the one negative thing I've been able to find about Aragorn, and I can't let Thalia think she's got the perfect guy, can I? (Nope, I've got him. But he's currently somewhere in Ithilien, making arrangements for his and Faramir's absence. But he'll be here soon. Never fear.) And I felt the need to give Faramir a book. He seems to be the scholarly bookworm in all the young Boromir and Faramir stories, but in the post-war stories, it's never mentioned. So I gave him a book.
Well, that was a nice, pointless chapter. Upon contemplation and an analysis of what I hope the next chapter (and rest of the story) will consist of, I realized that this will probably be the shortest, most pointless chapter of the story. Think of it as a prologue/introduction to the rest of the story
