It was at the rising of the sun after that fateful night that Aragorn received a message from a winged courier calling him to meet an old friend at the eastern edge of Fangorn. Aragorn had no difficulty guessing who the friend in question was as his messenger was in fact a thrush, such as men of Dale had long used as heralds. Thus, again, Aragorn left Minas Tirith and Finduilas.
On the north-western ride the ranger had vowed that he would not return again to the White City unless great need drove him thither. Had it been so long ago that he gifted to Arwen the ring of Barahir along with his promise? He cursed himself deeply for his mortal weaknesses, but resolved that he would now start anew, seeing his past mistakes as past mistakes and moving on.
It was not even a year later that he received another message from the White City. This lad had much less luck in finding Thorongil than the last and he seemed extremely upset that this ranger should put him through such a search. At first Aragorn refused to accept the message, he had only just managed to put his momentary lapse in judgment behind him. He knew that the message would not have come from Ecthelion, though he had heard him to be very near the end, for they had said their goodbyes. If his timing was correct, this message was coming from Finduilas.
For two days Aragorn hesitated to heed the plea. Still the herald would not leave him alone. Then suddenly in the middle of the night the younger lad was rudely wakened by the older ranger pulling him to his feet.
"Come, we ride for Minas Tirith," Aragorn said brusquely. "What is your delay, lad? All speed!" he called back to the bewildered boy whilst mounting Roheryn. As it was, Aragorn had been found east of Emyn Muil and they were able to make the journey back to the city in two days without stopping for much rest. Though he was determined to remain true to his vow and not fail again, he remembered how Finduilas had suffered at Boromir's birth and he could not allow someone he cared about, much less a lady, to suffer when he could be of help.
This time when Aragorn entered the Houses of Healing the elder women welcomed him with honor and praise. A suddenly, sharp scream turned his attention directly to Finduilas. The scene was just as it had been five years earlier, only Aragorn thought her to be in greater pain this time. As he had the last time he crushed the athelas leaves into the hot water and took Finduilas's hand in his, resting his other hand on her brow and whispering Elvish words of reassurance to her. Whether she knew the meaning or not did not matter, for Elvish words of peace transcend linguistic differences. The hours were indeed longer before small Faramir consented to come into the world than they were for Boromir.
It was not until the rising of the sun that Finduilas was delivered this time around. Holding Faramir in her still trembling arms, Finduilas felt a sort of joy she had never known before. This child, she felt, was truly hers. Her smile simply glowed. Finduilas dismissed the nurses and now the three were alone together.
"Hold him, Aragorn," she whispered softly.
So transfixed was he with watching the calm babe resting with his mother that he hardly noticed the name she used for him. He took Faramir in his arms and it was all he could do not to weep of happiness. It was then that he realized Finduilas called him by his birth name.
He stared up at her, still in wonderment. "How did you know that i am the son of Arathorn? I have not told anyone but Mithrandir in years."
"No wizard needed divulge your secret and no one else will know this from me," she said, her voice still weak. "I spent much time in your absence reading old texts here in the libraries. I knew you could be no other, especially not after the tales you told me. This child is your heir, the heir to the throne's heir, but with your leave, none shall know that. Not even him."
"It must be so. If i could take him and give him the kind of care and love and time he deserves i would do so in a heartbeat. But i am bound to my duties in the northern lands, and he will grow up very privileged here. I have seen how Denethor spoils Boromir. I have no fears for this one's future."
"How Denethor spoils him will not matter, Aragorn. Denethor has Boromir, but this child shall i call Faramir, and i shall love him every moment with every beat of my heart and every breath that i draw. Boromir may one day have the jeweled hand of the Ring of Húrin, but Faramir i can tell will be more like unto you. He shall be a ranger for he shall want to serve his country protecting the defenseless in the wild as you do. He will have a heart for learning and cultivating and wooded lands. His men shall love him for he shall know their hearts and be merciful. He shall be as a jewel of the hunters."
Aragorn looked upon the calm and peace-filled eyes of the baby. They were the same shade of blue as Finduilas' and his hair was as golden, but in the babe's relaxed face he saw so much of himself that it shook him. His eyes could not move from this wonder, this little extension of himself. "Mae govannen, Faramir... mae govannen. Cormamin lindua ele le." The ranger found his eyes moist with delight when the little one seemed to smile at the Sindarin words. With Faramir's soft coo, Aragorn could not restrain his joy and allowed his tears to fall as he held Faramir close to his breast. "Alas that i must leave you before i even know you, Faramir. Maybe one day we will meet again. See that he learns, Finduilas. If i could be here i would teach him everything Elrond taught me."
Finduilas smiled as Aragorn gave Faramir back to her. "He will not lack any knowledge, that is my word. There will only be one thing that he does not know of."
"Finduilas, you are certain that Denethor will not know, that he will have no way of guessing or finding out?" Aragorn asked with concern not for himself but for them.
"No, he will not know. I am the surer side in any case, but i know that Faramir is not his son, but the son of Isildur's heir. Will you ever claim your right, Aragorn, or shall you wander all of your days? For if you have no other sons, all will believe the line truly broken and there will be none to challenge Mordor's increase."
Aragorn kissed Finduilas's forehead but answered her not. "No one can foreknow the future, my lady. If fate will have me take up the sword of Elendil and the crown of Gondor and Arnor, then i shall do so. But that time is yet to come and Faramir will likely be a strong, intelligent, and wonderful young man by such a time. I must tarry no longer here, my lady. I shall not return to the city soon, for my errand is farther encompassing than even i am truly aware. If i see you not again, may you and Faramir fare well and happy in each other's love, and know that i long to share this with you both." Aragorn took Faramir's tiny hand in his and spoke the Elven words that had been spoken to him when he left Imladris so many years before.
Á lasser en le coia orn n'omenta gurtha,
Á í sul nora lanné le,
Á menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta é alé quenle,
Á menealle nauva calen ar' malta.
"Namárië, ion-nín," he said concluding, then quietly he drew up his cloak and hood about him and stole away into the bright shining day. That was 36 years ago.
---
"Mae govannen, Faramir... mae govannen. Cormamin lindua ele le." = Well met, Faramir... well met. My heart sings to see you."
May the leaves of your life tree never turn brown
May the wind fill your sails
May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back
May your ways be green and golden
"Namárië, ion-nín," = Farewell, my son
