Disclaimer: None of the characters/places etc. in this fic belong to us. We are making no profit with this story.
Author's Note: Hi, we're Galueth and EmberDragon, the joint authors of this fan fiction, "Tapestry". We chose to write about these events because it's a part of Tolkien that isn't explored in detail, and we were curious to fill in the gaps. It hasn't been written about as much as some of the others, and the characters are less often seen in much fan fiction.
Because there was so much left to explore, we took advantage of it, exploring it as much as possible, though always striving to keep all in character from what little Tolkien left us. We used both book and movie to help fill in gaps, while still trying to keep the feel of Tolkien's work, and where we had neither book nor film, we used our own imagination, though still with the mindset of staying as faithful to Tolkien's spirit as possible.
We wrote this for fun, and foremost for our own enjoyment and entertainment, but we hope that others can take enjoyment from it as well, so we have decided to upload it for all to see.
This is an AU fic to stay on the safe side. Still, we hope you enjoy reading – reviews are always welcomed!
--Galueth and EmberDragon
Tapestry
A Lord of the Rings Fan Fiction
Chapter One: A Letter Found, A Letter Received
Even when a story is over, it still has a beginning. It is up to those who desire, those who strive after what many would leave untouched, to reveal these beginnings. For if we cannot learn from the lessons of the past, there is little hope for the future. And thus we must read them from beginning to end.
I am about to begin my own story. As you read this, you are reading the penmanship of Barahir, grandson of Faramir, Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor. It is the story of his father, Lord Denethor of Minas Tirith, and his mother, Lady Finduilas of Dol Amroth, which I shall tell. But although this is their tale, there are other people's tales, others' lives, woven in to create a wonderful tapestry. I, too, am a part of this tapestry. In order to understand this story, we must journey before Faramir's time. Whilst searching the archives of Minas Tirith, I came across a letter, yellowed by time and crumpled by age. It was that letter that inspired me to write this tale.
And even as I hold this parchment in my hand, I can feel its age diminish. Every stain, every mark disappears, and it regains the majesty it had all those years ago. And now it is held in the hand of somebody quite different...
My Lord,
Greetings to you from Minas Tirith. I send you my most warm tidings from the White City, and from the Steward. I hope and trust that this letter finds you well. I would like to offer my most sincere thanks for your hospitality in allowing me sanctuary in your home. I find myself needing a retreat from civic duty, and I am told by citizens here that at one time called Dol Amroth home, that it's beauty and serenity is unparalleled, and thus I am greatly looking forward to setting my own eyes on your fair country.
I do not know how long I shall be staying with you, but I shall most humbly accept your offer to stay as long as I would require. And that brings me to another topic. I would like to thank you for your kind letter. I was very glad to read it and to hear that I shall be a guest in your home. There are many things that I am looking forward to, peace and quiet chief among them.
Send my warmest greetings to all in your household. I eagerly await meeting your children. You have a son and a daughter - is that not so? I am certain they possess the same noble attributes as their father.
Well, here, my lord, I must close. I thank you again for your warm invitation, and shall be arriving within a week's time when you hold this in your hands. Until then, may peace be upon you and your family.
Denethor
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"Come."
"Yes, my lord?"
Adrahil looked up from his letter and smiled slightly, "Yes, would you fetch my daughter for me? I must see her at once."
"Of course, my lord." Bowing to him, the servant exited the hall.
-------------------------------------------
Feeling a cool blast of air, she pulled her heavy quilt closer about her neck. She reclined on her side, her head resting in her left hand, her right gently turning the pages in the book she was reading.
A large fire glowed across the room, providing the extra warmth and light that the cold, winter day so quickly sapped. It hissed and popped, sending embers floating up the chimney. Many candles were also set about the room, all of soothing hues, blues and sea greens. They were held in place by many magnificent candelabras, set in various locations about the large room.
Finduilas felt utter contentment, warmth and safety, caring not if her life ever changed. She was perfectly happy. She smiled to herself, as she read this old book of poetry. These were such marvelous lines. Often she would lose herself in her books she so loved, many times, causing her to be late for dinner, to her father's disapproval. Often he would tease, saying, "The end of the age could come, and Finduilas would still be with her nose in a book!"
Just then, something fell on the page before her, but just as it landed, it disappeared. Her brow creased in confusion, but then looking at the page more closely, she saw a tiny wet spot where the object had landed. Looking up, she cast her glance about her room, searching for the source of this phenomenon, and looking over to her window, she smiled.
She abandoned her book, holding her quilt about her slender frame and sat down in her window seat, resting her back against the wall. She smiled to herself, and laughed slightly at the sight before her.
"Father must see this," she said to herself.
It was a sight indeed. It was snowing. It had been ages since Finduilas had seen it snow, for it was a rare occurrence in Dol Amroth.
I must have been six years old the last time it snowed. Yes…that was it…mother was still alive then…
Finduilas brought her knees to her chest, pulling her blanket tighter about herself and smiled. This sight…it never failed to capture her, but today, with gentle white flakes falling from the sky, it did much more so. It was beautiful.
She reached out her hand, allowing several of the small white flakes to fall upon it, melting instantly when they came in contact with her warmth. Several of them blew past her face and further into her room, being carried so far as her bed and she smiled. It was a snowflake.
She did not keep her glance inside long, for the sea beckoned to her. The waves crashed on the shore below, the gentle roar of the sea ever in her ears. It calmed her, like nothing else did. She could not keep her glance from it. If it was in sight, from wherever she was, she would watch it, as if she were afraid she would one day forget what it looked like.
She closed her eyes in utter bliss, leaning her head back, resting it on the stone wall, just taking in the sound, that marvelous, calming sound.
"My lady?" a muffled voice called, knocking gently on her door.
She opened her eyes, looking over to it, "Yes? Come in."
A messenger appeared in her room, and she smiled to him as he bowed before her.
"My lady," he began, and then rose off the floor, "Your father wishes to speak with you. He awaits you in the great hall."
She rose, and draped her blanket on her bed, "Very well." Finduilas walked over to him and grasped his forearm, smiling sweetly, "Thank you."
He nodded his head to her, "You are most welcome, my lady."
She walked over by her door, grasping a rich, navy cloak that hung in her wardrobe and tied it about her neck, needing a new source of warmth, "Did he say what it was about?"
"He did not, my lady."
Finduilas nodded, and opening the door she stepped out into the corridor, the servant following behind her. He closed the door to her room, and bowing to her, he left her alone.
Walking down the hallway, she thought of the beautiful sight she had just seen.
It's a shame. It's so cold out, I cannot enjoy it as I like. But…she smiled to herself, cold weather means warm soup with freshly baked bread for dinner. No sooner had she thought this than she began to smell its wonderful aroma. Mmm…beef stew with herbs… and something equally divine for dessert, no doubt. I cannot wait!
Finally coming to her father's great hall, she knocked upon it, and hearing his voice bid her enter, she opened it.
Seeing his daughter, Adrahil smiled and rose from his seat, "Come, my dear, join me," he said motioning to an empty chair.
Finduilas smiled in return and walked over to him. She grasped his forearms, kissing him on either of his cheeks, "Father, you must see it! It's snowing!"
He laughed gently. His daughter had always been carefree. They were both seated, and he replied, "Is it? I shall make a point to see for myself!"
They made themselves comfortable by the roaring fire, Adrahil asking, "Would you like anything to drink, my dear? Ale? Wine?"
Finduilas said in pleasure, "Ale would be lovely."
Her father rose, taking a mug from the nearby tray, and poured it full. "My dear, I have received a letter today."
He handed her the mug, as she took it from him, "Is that what you wish to discuss?"
"Aye, it is." She took a sip of her drink as he explained further, holding the letter up before her eyes, "From Minas Tirith."
Her eyes widened as she took in her drink and swallowing what was in her mouth, she asked, "From lord Ecthelion?"
"No…from his son, Denethor."
She was rather surprised, "Oh?"
"Yes," he said, reclining back in his chair. "He is to come to Dol Amroth in a week's time."
"On what business?"
Adrahil shook his head, "None, my dear. He is coming for a friendly visit. He says he wishes to rest from the rigors and stresses in the City."
Finduilas smiled, "Then he has chosen the perfect spot."
He laughed gently, "Indeed he has." He mused a moment before going on, "But we have preparations to make. He will be the Steward of our land one day, and we would be amiss if we did not welcome him properly."
"He shall be, father. All shall be done to make our guest feel at home. You need not worry of that." She smiled. "How long will he be staying with us?" she added, taking another sip of her ale.
Adrahil held the letter up to his face, scanning it with his eyes, "I do not know," he mused. "He is not clear about that, but he shall be welcome here as long as he desires to stay."
Finduilas smiled, "Indeed he shall." She thought a moment and continued, "A week's time, then?"
He nodded, "Lord Denethor shall arrive a week from today."
Finduilas rose from her seat, and leaning down to her father she gave him a kiss on his cheek, "Then I had better get busy. I shall see to it that he is welcomed in a fashion that would rival Minas Tirith itself!"
Adrahil laughed, taking her hand and kissing it, "I have no doubt you will, Finduilas."
"Do you require anything else, father?" she asked, smiling.
Her father shook his head, "No, that will be all." He paused, and continued, "Just see to it you are not late for meals whilst our noble guest is here. What a reflection that would be on me!" he teased.
She playfully jerked her hand from his, feigning a glance of offence, "I shall do my best, my lord."
He laughed in response. "Go on!" he motioned with his hand. He shouted, faking disapproval, "Be gone with you!"
Finduilas laughed merrily as she scurried out of the hall, and turning to her father one last time, she flashed him a playful smile. Leaving him alone, she began to make preparations for their noble visitor.