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

Sharpe is back, he sort of made me write him into another chapter, and since he can be very insistent when he wants to, I wrote him in. Thanks goes to Earendil Eldar for help with the translation. The poem used is one I have written myself.

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.

This chapter will be divided into two parts, as the first part is already posted, this part automatically becomes part two.

Sharpe's Soldier

"Must've been a good soldier then." Sharpe nodded. "Doesn't sound all bad, just bloody dressed up."

"That is what poetry is." Faramir reasoned. "A way to take something that is harsh and cruel, and dress it up in so many words that you would think it was beautiful when listening to it. Yet if you listen to the meaning, it is still just as harsh and cruel."

"I know those who do that." Sharpe grinned. "All over the place back home, hanging around the gin houses and talking all the young fools into taking the King's shilling. Always going on about the glory and the honour of it, then you get there, and all there is to it is mud and shit, and its yes sir, and no sir, and can I dig your latrine sir. And if you don't, if you look an bloody officer in the eye, then they'll flog you for it. That's the bloody British army that, in all its glory, blood and mud."

"Harsh." Faramir agreed. He could not really stand the thought of flogging men himself, it was cruel, and yet sometimes necessary, because some crimes had to be punished.

"Aye, but its all poachers, picklocks and cutthroats. No one will care if you flog the lot of them."

"A commander should care about his soldiers." Faramir stated. "I would not want to serve under a commander whom I knew did not care for his soldiers."

"I don't get paid for them care." Sharpe reasoned. "I get paid to kill the Frogs, and that's what I'll do."

"We serve in two very different armies." Faramir decided.

"Aye, we do. And you know how to fight, but you know all about them scribblers stuff as well, me, all I know is how to fight."

"And still you seem to know a lot more." Faramir grinned teasingly. "You do know more my friend but I shall not call you upon it."

Sharpe laughed merrily. "You're a bloody bastard for knowing buggers. Alright then, teach me that thing you were saying before. It'll give Harris something to try and figure out how I learnt it. He knows I can read and write, but he thinks that I am none to good at it."

"With pleasure." Faramir found the book with the poem in it and sat about to teach Sharpe. He was not about to tell Sharpe that it was a poem written about him. He did not need to know that unless he figured it out on his own. Faramir did however not think that he was likely to. Sharpe did not think that anyone would be fool enough to write a poem about him, but oh, there were always fools.

Sharpe was back in his camp, one thing about that damned scribbler, he did know how to master that bloody thing. Sharpe however had not bothered about bringing back the bloody book. As far as he was concerned the man could keep it. He did not care about books anyway.

He also got back just in time before he was called into the room, and then it was all bowing and scraping again.

Act like a man they had said once, crawl and snivel, it was not natural for a man to do that, but you had to. You had to if you did not want to be flogged. He had met a few good officers. Wellington was not about to flog him, no matter if he was on the brink of disrespectfulness at time, and with Hogan he had never bothered too much about respect.

That big Irish man did not seem to mind how Sharpe spoke to him, as long as he obeyed orders that was, and Sharpe did. He obeyed all their fool orders, and he tried to stay alive while doing it.

That was the hard part, staying alive while obeying orders.

Even if you were in the camp digging latrines you could get blown to Kingdom Come by a bloody rocket, and it did not have to be the bloody Frogs shooting them either. Those bloody things went as they pleased, and damned much you could do about it.

No, you could not do a bloody thing about it. Only duck if you heard them coming, but then the officers would be all over you for shirking your duty they would. If there was a way to please officers, then he had never heard about it. That much was certain.

He went back to his men as soon as he was done scraping and bowing.

"Move out at first light. Packs only. Try to take out the enemy hold here so that they main troop can punch through. There's a good lad Sharpe, make me proud." They had said that Sharpe sneered. He would punch a hole all right, he would, but if they were proud over him they would not show him that. He would be happy if he got a well done.

He informed the men while they sat around the fires in the evening.

As always Harris was talking about some book or the other, he was discussing them with Perkins, trying to educate the lad sure enough.

Yet this time Sharpe recognised at least some of what he said.

"You gonna teach him about them bloody Frogs?" He demanded with a grin. "Shouldn't do that Harris, least you teach him how to fight them."

"It's Voltaire, sir." Harris grinned.

"Aye, I know about the bugger alright." Sharpe grinned. "God is not on the side of the big battalions, but on the best shots. And, it's dangerous to be right when the government is wrong. That's Voltaire, eh?"

"It is, sir. Very good." Harris looked a little surprised that he had known that.

"Here's some more Frog for you then." Sharpe grinned.

"Beaucoup un combat a vous a combattu,

Parfois vois avez eté attrapé.

Mais jamais battu et jamais cassé.

Pas par les mèches et pas par l'épée,

Pas par les homes dans le trésor d'ennemi.

Vous avez tenu vrai à votre serment,

Même quand le nobles a jubilé

Vous êtes révélé mieux qu'ils, bien que.

Donc ce jour ici vous tenez,

A payé avec le sang est la terre.

Le sang de vous et vos amis,

A vous même l'ennemi le plus féroce se rend.

Le roi George obtient l'honneur et vous faites l'action.

Le con voitise pour combatte est dans votre courant sanguine.

À juste une fois l'aperçu le plus grand ennemi de tout est votre rêve."

He grinned at Harris baffled expression that he had known so much Frog talk, but why should you know people like Faramir less you could use them for something.

"Many a battle have you fought,
sometime you have been caught.
But never defeated and never broken.
Not by lashes and not by the sword,
not by the men in the enemy hoard. You have held true to your oath,
even when the nobles did gloat.
You proved to be better than they though.
So this day here you stand,
paid for with blood is the land. The blood of you and your friends,
to you even the fiercest enemy surrenders.
King George gets the honour and you do the deed.
The lust to fight in your blood stream.
To just once glimpse the greatest enemy of all is your dream."

He added the translation for Perkins who did not know enough Frog. Truth to be told Sharpe did not know enough to translate it all by himself, but he would be damned if he told Harris that. Let the man try to figure out how the hell he had learnt that.

"Very good, sir." Harris said when he had collected himself. "Where did you learn that."

"Made me wait in a bloody library." Sharpe chuckled. "Don't you think that I can read Harris. Don't you know that an officer must know how to read. They do, and I am an officer, so I bloody well know how to read." He laughed and the others joined in.

Then Harper came to sit beside him and gave him a horn mug of tea.

"Where did you learn that thing?" Harper asked quietly with a wide grin as he sipped his tea.

"Ran into a friend." Sharpe grinned. "He taught it to me."

"I did not know you were friends with any scribblers, so I did not." Harper raised his eyebrows.

"Who says I am." Sharpe grinned. "He's a soldier Harper, a soldier, like Harris. Knows all about them bloody books and all. Can't really tell though." He chuckled at Harper's confused expression as he stood up. They thought they knew him well, but he could still surprise them when he wanted to.

It was good to pull a surprise on them every now and again. Kept them from getting comfortable and all. It was a bad thing for soldiers to get too comfortable, you needed to keep them on their toes and alert.

He knew several ways to do that. He would use them as well as he saw fit. Just let them think they knew all the tricks he could pull, and he would show them.

It was not for nothing they called him a bloody bastard, he knew all the tricks.

Before we have to go into details about Sharpe's illegitimate decent, or whatever it should be called. I find it best to put a temporary ending here. Hopefully that way I shall not have to go into the details of bastards, even if I might just have done that, so to avoid all further mentioning, I put the temporary ending here.

Pronounciation Guide by Celebrion:

Well, for not going into details you sure reveal a lot...

Yargh! Too much French the last weeks! Just go with the usual bloody Accent... Whoops, was that me? Sharpe's must be beginning to get to me...

Lindahoyland: Maybe Aragorn can change how Sharpe perceives royalty indeed. I shall see what I can come up with. I might also add that both Boromir and Sharpe share some similarities with Kalten, they are all the same kind of soldiers. Hm, English confusing, I fear that in my case it is spelling that is confusing, I can not master it in any language, not even in the spoken ones.

Shy-Shadow Reckless: If I am able to figure out how to make Sharpe change his opinion about royalty with the help of Aragorn, then I should be able to give Harris more time as well. Would you enjoy that?

Earendil Eldar: I am afraid that Celebrion left on vacation, but shall we just say that he does not have to much experience, eh? I mean now that he can not defend himself, ; ) Ah, yes, I am insane, and I think that it is rather good. Else I would not have thought of doing this. I heard that the new Harry Potter was very sad, they do not seem to be the same kind of children's books anymore, do they?

Steelelf: I will try a great deal not to put in anything to ruin it. Sharpe seems to be very popular, and I certainly like him very much. He is a very amusing character, and easy to experiment with.

Silver Sniper: The Kingdom of Dust follows its own rules, and it have indeed surprised many unsuspecting victims. Er, what were you doing with the salt water?

Legolas's Girl 9: Does that mean you finally got to Middle Earth? If so, send a post card please.

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.