Author's Note: This is a bit of a joke that I wrote with the help of a friend. We thought that Faramir was skilled at different languages, and wondered just what languages he could speak.

Trying to think of as many as possible, and writing a story on each. Some languages will be from Lord of the Ring, some will not, but we will name them and where they come from. So Have no fear

If the title should happen to not be a dead give away that we are doing French this time, I might add that we are doing French this time.

Thanks goes to Earendil Eldar for translating the French for us. The joke here is that the Sharpe books are very nice books, and in the filming of them Sean Bean was picked to play Sharpe, as we all know, Sean Bean also played Boromir.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Ring, I only borrow parts of it and shall return them as soon as I am done. Completely undamaged, as I am certain it will be impossible to see where we glued the pieces back together.

Sharpe's French

Aragorn sat in one of the comfortable chairs in the small library that was in his chambers. Some enjoyable evening reading was exactly what he had been looking forward to.

The children was playing in another room, the whole litter of them. Eowyn had been restless and had dragged Arwen outside, while Faramir occupied the other armchair.

The two men had eagerly grasped the chance for some reading in peace and quiet. The children behaved themselves perfectly so there was no need for any man to worry about distractions.

There was also a book that Aragorn had looked forward to reading for some time. While Faramir had been walking around looking at the shelves first. Trying to find something that would be enjoyable to read.

In the end Aragorn had recommended a book of elvish lore to him that he seemed to be very content with. He could tell that Faramir enjoyed it by the way his eyes sparkled.

Then Aragorn frowned as he came upon something strange on the page.

"Something amiss, sire?" Faramir would have had to have been looking at him to pick up on it so fast.

"I thought that we agreed that this was a private evening without titles." Aragorn chided him gently.

"We did, I apologize." Faramir bowed his head with a small grin.

"I forgive you, if you stop that bowing." Aragorn pretended to glare at him.

"As you wish my liege." Faramir said dead pan, he was far better at this game than his King was. He could school his features to match his words.

"Faramir, stop it." Aragorn tried to sound menacing but failed on account of a burst of laughter.

"What was it that had you frowning?" Faramir asked, going from baiting his king to friendly conversation smoothly.

"A strange passage in this book." Aragorn explained. "It is an epic about a soldier in war, but there is a passage here, and I do not know what it means."

"Mayhap I will." Faramir offered.

Aragorn went back to the page until he found the passage. "Dieu n'est pas pour les grandes battalones, mais les mieux projectiles."

"Just give me a moment. It's French, and I should be able to translate it for you." Faramir offered with a smile. He turned the phrase over in his mind until he got the right formulation of it. "God is not on the side of the big battalions, but on the best shot's." He said. "That should be an accurate translation of it." Then it was his turn to frown. "Though I can not understand what French would be doing in your epic tale."

"Apparently someone called Voltaire said it." Aragorn told him. He had been able to get that much from the book. "For some reason the soldier thinks that it is funny."

"Voltaire was an interesting author." Faramir offered with a smile. "He mastered satire very well."

"Have you read it?" Aragorn questioned.

"I have read some of his works." Faramir admitted. "He wrote a book on the subject of optimism that also have a rather interesting quote in it."

"Well, what?" Aragorn demanded good naturedly.

"All is for the best, in the best of all possible worlds, at the most inappropriate of times." Faramir quoted from memory. "No matter what misfortune that befell them, they claimed that in the end it was still for the best. That is what I call true optimism." He glanced curiously at the book Aragorn read. "Now tell me about your soldier epic now."

"Well the soldiers name is Richard Sharpe." Aragorn said. "I have never heard about the war that they are in, and neither of the countries, so I am guessing it is entirely fictional. They also have some weapons called rifles that I have never heard of before. It appears that Sharpe belongs to a troop of rifle-men that calls themselves chosen men, apparently some sort of elite soldiers."

Faramir nodded thoughtfully. "Since you say elite soldiers I take it that they are rather good."

"They seem good enough. Sharpe is said to have risen from the ranks because of his skills." Aragorn explained. "Though most of the officers considers themselves better than him and resents him for it. He does however seem to have the love of his troops."

"The other officers are fools then, a man who can rise from the ranks must be a skilled one." Faramir stated. Both he and Boromir had been forced to prove their worth before they could be promoted in the army. True, they had not started at the lowest, but neither had they been handed anything, if they had not been good enough, they would have been degraded.

"It is a very amusing tale to read as he has his own methods." Aragorn chuckled. "He seems to teach discipline rather brusque, but he has an interesting relationship with his men."

"Wait a moment." Faramir said thoughtfully. "I seem to recall what you say, I think that I have read something of it before. Not all of it, but some of it. Sharpe, did he have a rather rough language."

"To put it mildly, yes." Aragorn grinned. "I think that the politest way he has ever referred to anyone by is bugger. "

"Yes, I remember that." Faramir grinned. "If the soldiers did not do their duty he was not above giving them a beating, but he never flogged anyone."

"Harsh but fair." Aragorn nodded. "Did his duty, and made sure that others did their's. Though he did have some interesting methods of how he did his duty."

"Aye, I recall that." Faramir grinned. "If I recall correctly he captured the enemy standard once. A coward of a commander lost them their own standard, so the whole company was in disgrace for it. They were near dissolved because of the acts of an officer who should never have been allowed to become an officer. Lost both the standard and a lot of soldier's lives."

"And he captured the enemy standard?" Aragorn asked curiously.

"It was the only way for that regiment to regain their own honour." Faramir nodded. "He never asked anyone else to go with him for it, and yet they all followed him, because they wanted to, because they trusted him to be able to do it."

"That sounds like one soldier I once had the honour of knowing." Aragorn said seriously.

Faramir quieted as Aragorn spoke, he knew what was coming, and it was a burden that still weighed heavily on him.

"He sounds a lot like Boromir." Aragorn went on, watching Faramir closely as his dearly missed brother was mentioned. "Always did his duty, fair and hard, and a brave warrior."

"The bravest." Faramir choked. "There was none braver than Boromir, never were."

"Boromir was one of a kind." Aragorn agreed. "Though I have met at least one who I beheld to be as brave as him. He had a little brother you know, one who might be smaller, but no less valiant."

"Never enough to meet his standard." Faramir shook his head. "But that was just the thing with Boromir, he never demanded that I did. He saw what values I had. Like Sharpe there." Faramir blurted out to avoid comparison with his brother. "He never demanded that his men be as good as him, he demanded that they did his best, and they did, for he never demanded of them what he would not do himself." He went on hurriedly. "They knew that he would always stand behind them, not cower away safely somewhere like some officers did."

Aragorn reflected on what Faramir had just said. "You know, my friend, he really does sound a lot like Boromir." He glanced at the book in his hand. "Do you suppose that whoever wrote this had Boromir as a base model?"

Faramir chuckled, the previous tension he had felt forgotten. "Mayhap they made the mould for Sharpe based on Boromir's." He smiled warmly at Aragorn. "Though had Boromir ever found out that he would have been impossible."

"No, he would have acted impossible to drive everyone else crazy." Aragorn decided. "Boromir had too much sense to let something like that get to his head."

"Father did not always agree with you on that opinion." Faramir chuckled. "I shall have to read that again when I have finished this one, it would be like hearing him laugh again."

Aragorn nodded and sent him a reassuring smile. Faramir handled the loss and the pain from it well, but he also treasured every reminder of his big brother. Everything that reminded him of how Boromir had laughed merrily and had always been able to bring his little brother into a good mood.

Now we shall leave them to their reading, as Faramir desperately want to finish his book so that he can begin reading Sharpe instead, so I shall insert the usual temporary ending here.

Until next week, fare you all well.

Pronounciation Guide by Celebrion:

Mmmm, I like books…Books are good, read 'em people!

Well, French yet again… Go with the "outraaageous French áccent" again and don't pronounce the last 's' in the words. Good luck!

Earendil Eldar: You know that we love your reviews, whenever they drop in, in fact we love all reviews, thought we have gotten less lately, meaning we enjoy yours more than ever. The new chapter alert is indeed a very good thing, now I hope you were able to enjoy yourself.

Steelelf: You always makes us feel so honoured and special. It is a great joy to write for such loyal readers.

Lindahoyland: We enjoy the scheming as well, we like very much to write about it, and Eowyn and her stew is just a fun concept. Look for more of her stew when the next part of Desk of Dust comes out, when Celebrion stops being a lazy twit and corrects it. :)

Silver Sniper: Ah, we understand, we know all about the terror of tests. No fear, we understand fully if you are late, what we hope is that you will be able to enjoy this when the tests are bothersome.

Here I would like to thank everyone who reads my works, thank you.

Here it must also be said that in the tale "A Two Colour Chain Mail," we started the vote

based on the fact that Sean Bean and David Wenham made the perfect image of two brothers. We also got plenty of agreement on that.

So here it is, if you agree with us and think that they should be real brothers. Say so in your review. It shall be your vote. On my authors page, in the bio I shall keep score.

When the score reaches 100, they shall be declared official brothers. Then on my authors page shall be an official declaration written by Elenhin and Celebrion.

Then the truth can not be denied, they shall be brothers.