"Mae govannen," Faramir replied to Elrond's welcome, pressing a hand to his heart and bowing in keeping with Elven greeting form. It was a wonder he managed to say anything in his awe.

Glorfindel was working on rounding up the horses to take them to the stables after embracing his old friend when suddenly Elrond came to realization. As happy as he was to see Faramir, Aragorn, and his seneschal again, he had yet to see his chief advisor. Considering the ill feeling between Glorfindel and Erestor the last time he'd been around them, over a year ago, Elrond saw it as a cause for concern. Elrond was also a bit concerned that Erestor had possibly decided to stay in Minas Tirith because of the hand Elrond and his twins had taken in "setting-up" the dark-haired advisor with the golden Balrog-slaying seneschal. He knew just how upset Erestor had been at the time, and though Elrond was profoundly sorry that his friend felt his confidence had been betrayed, Elrond maintained that he only had Erestor's best interested at heart.

Unable to stem his concern, Elrond drew Aragorn in close, but before he could voice his concern, Aragorn said, "he and Gandalf are on their way... i think you'd best be prepared for a shock though, adar."

Elrond decided that it might be best not to ponder that too much and instead insisted that his son and grandson go ahead and make themselves comfortable. Faramir was still in a mild state of astonishment as he walked into the House of Elrond, marveling at the wholly foreign architectural style of the place. Everything flowed so naturally here and there were no awkward turns that one risked a collision by taking too quickly. But Faramir felt that in this place nothing was ever done too quickly.

"So, what do you think?" Aragorn asked his son.

Faramir opened his mouth to reply, but no words could he find to express what he felt in this place.

Aragorn laughed and put an arm around Faramir's shoulders. "That is exactly what i feel when i am here, as well. Come, i will show you around properly tomorrow. Tonight there are only three things that you need to know about Rivendell: it's baths, it's baking, and it's beds." Aragorn led the way up to his old chambers which were next door to Elladan and Elrohir's. He had to smile walking in there again. "Just the way i remember it," he said under his breath.

Faramir was still awed. "You grew up here?" he managed to say, almost in disbelief.

Aragorn just nodded. "This was my home until i was 20. In many ways it still is." He went to a intricately carved door off to the side of the room which looked at first glance as though a leafless tree with many entwined branches stood in an archway. Giving a little push to the door, it opened seemly of it's own accord. "Elven doors are not like ours," Aragorn said with a smile, walking into the adjoining room. "Will this be comfort for you?" he gestured to the room which was just as inviting as everything in Imladris.

"This place is perfect, father. I can not thank you enough for this," Faramir said genuinely.

Aragorn stepped closer to his son, resting a hand on his shoulder and holding his gaze with his own. "You thank me for bringing you here now, but i should have done this many, many years ago."

Faramir said nothing but pulled his father into his embrace. "Mind what is, adar, and fret not what was. We can only learn from the past, not correct it."

Aragorn took a step back, still holding Faramir's gaze. "You are wiser than i am, ion-nín. But come, let us shed this half of Middle-earth that we have dragged in," he said shaking the road dust from his coat, "and beyond that... let's eat and sleep." Faramir seconded the motion and Aragorn went to get some warm water from the kitchen.

Returning to their rooms, he found Faramir at his window immersed in the surroundings. Faramir turned when he heard his father. "I would have come after you, but i do not know where everything is... i hate for you to waste the trip, but there is already water in these baths," he said.

Aragorn grinned. Apparently someone knew they were coming. "It is just as well, i hadn't gotten the water yet," he said, producing a bucket of rocks instead.

Faramir looked a little concerned. "Elves bathe with... rocks?" he asked.

His father nodded. "Absolutely. Though, mind you, this is a rather hasty bath. You will have to try the hot spring pool tomorrow, it is unreal. But this will suffice for our immediate needs."

Faramir still had no idea what this custom was until Aragorn went to the sunken stone bath screened off in a corner of the room. Taking a pair of tongs which stood nearby, he carefully placed several of the stones in a shallow mote around the bath. "Mind not to touch the rocks," he cautioned and then went off to his own room and bath again.

If anything, Faramir was more confused than before. Don't touch the rocks, he wondered. Unable to suppress his curiosity any more he reached out tentatively, immediately drawing his hand back and involuntarily letting out a curse.

"I warned you," came Aragorn's voice from the next room. Faramir smiled sheepishly when his father appeared at the doorway. "See the ladle? Pour some water over the stones." Faramir did so and was surprised when they hissed and steamed. He nodded, finally getting the idea that the hot rocks would create a steam bath. "Enjoy," Aragorn grinned toothily. "Let me know when you are ready for dinner."

That evening after they took a private supper, the likes of which Faramir had never eaten in all his life, there were a few inevitable stories shared in connection to Aragorn's childhood chambers. Faramir was savoring every single thing in this place and wondered how he would ever be able to drag himself back to his story city when the time came. It was all too easy to see why Aragorn had been so reluctant to take the Crown.

Finishing off dinner with a glass of the lightest, freshest juice Faramir had ever tasted, both Men decided to call it a day and carry on the introduction come morning. If Faramir had not been so thoroughly tired from the journey he would have begged to see more, but as it was, he was content to crawl into bed and drift off. He literally did have to crawl into bed, for although Elves themselves did not require the same manner of bedding as Mortals for a comfortable sleep, in the House of Elrond they most certainly knew how to be hospitable to those who did crave comfort. This bed was in all ways more comfortable than his own.

One thing he noticed, for as welcoming as Imladris was to Mortals, he had not seen a single fireplace, which at first made him think that it should grow cold at night. His next thought, however, was that he was altogether thankful that he would not have to endure a confrontation with fire here in this peaceful place. Still, he didn't fancy spending another cold night, and asked his father if there were heavier blankets than what currently covered the bed.

Aragorn smiled, yet again, seeming truly at home here. "That coverlet may seem to be too light, but it is hithlain from Lorien, and will keep you perfectly comfortable, no matter the weather. However, should you grow truly cold," he said, walking over to pull back a tapestry which hid a neatly shelved stack of linens, "these blankets are woven from flax and are mostly kept here only for traveling Mortals. We took these when we tackled Hithaeglir and they likely kept us alive in that snow. They would be much too warm in anything but the deepest chill, though."

Just another wonder to add to the rapidly growing list. It was one of the first nights in Faramir's life that he had let himself fall asleep with both eyes closed.

-

linda: It is nice to see everyone happy and safe again. Maybe i am starting to get soft.

flowerbee: Up to something? Up to something? Oh, very nice friend! I writes nice angsty story and you says "up to something!"

Raska: Yeah, Aragorn really shines in his element. And there was no way i could just let him become king and never see Elrond again, especially not considering the way things had been between them for... oh, 67 years. Aragorn needs his dad too.

Christie: You're right, you do need to catch up. I'll take it you enjoy so far. English teachers are always in one of either two categories: excellent or horrendous. There is no grey area on that one as far as i'm concerned. And frankly, the only reason i didn't (or at least havent yet, who knows what the future holds) go to college to become an English teacher is because i could have never stuck to any school's prescribed cirriculum.

Elenhin: Ah... geez... i'm really earning a reputation for hurting our poor Faramir! Honest, i'm trying to be nice to him. It's just all these things keep happening. I really can't say right now what the future holds for him after Imladris. He might well live out his days in peace and happiness with his father and son. Speaking of Elboron, you certainly do have my leave to start a fan club. I started the Faramir Appreciation League some time ago, but i have no clue what happened to it. I started writing more and lost track of it. It was a yahoo group at the time. Anyone want to join and help me resurrect it?