The next day Faramir woke to a gentle rapping at his chamber door. He only just restrained a cry of anguish as he felt the vibrations from the knock fill the room and reverberate loudly in his head. It took an extraordinary amount of energy for the young man to just whisper "come in."
Aragorn entered looking sympathetic. "Drink this," he said handing Faramir a glass. "I really should have warned you about Shire ale."
"Is that what happened to me? It feels more like i've been trampled by the entire Rohirrim," Faramir groaned, trying to sit upright. "How can Halflings possibly drink so much of that?"
Aragorn shook his head. "There are a lot of things about Hobbits that neither of us will ever understand. If you want to know what i think, they are more favored by the Valar than Elves are."
"Only if you are referring to Elves who keep company with Mortals," came a familiar voice from out in the hall and Minas Tirith's only elf entered the room. "I came to offer my apologies."
"Good, it's about time you did," Aragorn said. "Revenge only goes so far, we still deserve an apology for having us imprisoned in our city."
Legolas just smiled. "Not that, mellon. I mean about handing Faramir that glass of Dorwinion," Legolas said turning to Faramir. "I am not used to Mortals not being able to take it; but if you look on the bright side, at least you slept off most of the pain."
"Forget it happened," Faramir said. "I have no recollection of drinking more than a couple pints of Shire ale. Other than that, it's not nearly as bad as the time Boromir got me drunk when we were young." Just the thought of the way he'd felt that morning made him flinch. Faramir glanced to the window and noticed the light was dim and tinted with color. "How early is it yet? I can not have slept long, it was well passed midnight surely before i got to bed."
Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances. "It was indeed long passed midnight, but you were asleep before you reached a bed," Aragorn said feeling very empathetic for his son.
"I think the term, Aragorn, is 'passed out cold,'" Legolas corrected, also feeling rather sorry for the poor human. "What's more, you will note that the light is not in the east, but in fact in the west, young Faramir. Soon the heavens will be shimmering with the light of Elbereth."
"Elbereth, the Queen of Valinor?" Faramir asked, ignoring pain for the chance of more enlightenment.
Legolas nodded.
"I have learned but little of the star-queen from the texts here. You can tell me more though, can you not, Legolas?" Never did the desire to learn rest in Faramir.
Legolas grinned. "Where is your Golodhrim blood that your thirst for knowledge is so great? I will tell you all i know, if you have the patience to listen to it."
Aragorn left the room then, having heard it all more than one. He promised to return to Faramir with something for supper.
As it happened, Aragorn nearly literally ran into Sam coming from the cold-room of the Citadel.
"Sam..." Aragorn whispered. "There are no cooks in the kitchen still are there?" Aragorn had learned a few things over the years about the sensitivity of the skilled staff of Minas Tirith.
Sam looked a little concerned at Aragorn's secrecy. "No there aren't, Mr. Strider. Would you be needing some help with those vegetables?"
"Yes, Sam. Actually, i was hoping you would help me else wise as well."
"Sure, anything i can do for you."
"I will be leaving tonight, hopefully just for a short time. But i was hoping you might keep Faramir company. I think the two of you would get along very well."
"Of course, Mr. Strider, i'd be happy to." Sam momentarily went a bit quiet then. "He is all right, isn't he, Captain Faramir? I had no idea Merry and Pippin had given him that much of the ale you had in or i would have put a stop to that."
Aragorn smiled at Sam's perpetual concern. "He will be fine, Sam. There is nothing to worry about. Fact is, while your ale may have been a bit much for him, it was the Elven wine that really put him under."
Sam didn't even want to know what strange effects Elven wine could have. He took over preparing a small dinner for Faramir and promised to bring it to the Steward's apartment. Aragorn returned to find Faramir contentedly listening to everything that Legolas knew about stars and everything related to them. When his friend entered again Legolas decided to leave them, promising Faramir there was yet much more to be learned.
Aragorn sat down beside the bed. "Sam is bringing you supper, probably something better than i could have managed." Aragorn cringed, a repressed thought resurfacing. "That's something i need to warn you about, Faramir. Don't ever eat anything Éowyn has cooked. Never."
Faramir arched a brow in question, but quickly resumed his normal countenance, finding it painful to use too many facial muscles at once.
"Just trust me on that," Aragorn said, seriously hoping his son would heed the advice. "In any case, i wanted to tell you that i am going to be leaving the city tonight. I don't know for what length of time, i am going with Gandalf."
"Very well. I will do all that i can in your place, father. To where are you journeying with Mithrandir?"
"I can not say, i think he intends to take me up to the Mindolluin hallows. But it must remain a secret, just between you and i, until i return."
Faramir nodded his confidentiality. "You seek the scion of Nimloth?"
"Yes. If all goes well, that shall be the herald to me of that which i have long awaited."
Faramir smiled, "Then may it go well for you, father," he said embracing Aragorn. "Just promise me one thing?"
"Anything under the stars, Faramir."
"If you and Gandalf intend to slip away unnoticed, doff your hoods," Faramir said almost wryly.
Aragorn laughed, "I'll go one better, i intend to wear my Elven cloak and stone. I could not possibly be mistaken for a Southron spy thusly."
Faramir only grinned.
"Is there anything you want before i go? A glass of wine, maybe?" Aragorn half-teased.
"Well, now that you mention it," Faramir said, "all of my parchment i have taken to my study since i began the office. I would greatly like to make a few notes on what Legolas told me this evening."
Aragorn beamed of pride for his son. "You have only to ask, Faramir. That is an excellent idea. Future generations will be very grateful for your writing."
That night Aragorn and Gandalf disappeared into the shadows to ascend the hallowed places of the mountain west of the city. When the king returned bearing a sapling to be planted in the courtyard where the old tree had withered, Faramir greeted him with gladness.
That day had the Steward and Prince Imrahil spoken at much length. Faramir did not know what transpired between his father and uncle, but it was clear that Aragorn's words had least caused Imrahil to realize that he was one of only two people in all the world that Faramir could now call family. Imrahil also came to see that his rage belonged not with his nephew, nor with the King, though Aragorn told him it should. But rather Imrahil was able to see a dimension beyond what most Men perceive to recognize that the root of the affair had been Denethor's treatment of Finduilas.
Aragorn and Faramir had been watching the sun set one evening in the courtyard where the new tree was. Raindrops from that afternoon's shower remained yet on the white plantlet and they reflected and refracted the glorious setting sun. In the gloaming, Faramir turned to see blossoms budding on the tree. "Father, the tree flourishes."
Aragorn looked to the tree and his gaze went west. "All now comes closer to fruition. Look soon for the last coming of the Elves, Faramir," Aragorn said with a contemplative smile.
