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, since so many seemed to enjoy him. This time the language Latin.

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.

As always when Sharpe appears here, warning for curses and such, also this is another time when there will be several parts.

A King For A Soldier chapter Two

King George Commands, Eh, Sorry, King Aragorn

It happened quite often when Faramir was in the library that the heavy door was pushed open and the King entered. It had happened one time when the Friar Carl was there. Since Faramir and his King shared the same love for the written word, it was very common for them to encounter each other in the library.

It also made the library the ideal place to search for the other, and as a result their wives were often able to search them out there as well.

Now the doors were not gently pushed open, they were thrown open with a force that made both men jump to their feet.

Sharpe noted that the man entering looked agitated, he had hair as long as Faramir's and of the same cut. He was dressed in plain clothes and a tattered cloak, and a sword hung at his hip. He moved with ease, and Sharpe thought how he most likely could use it.

Faramir looked at his King and knew that something would have to be wrong for the man to burst into the library like that.

"Orc's have been spotted near a village about four days ride from here." Aragorn explained. "We're moving out within an hour Faramir, hurry and get your weapons."

Faramir let out a curse.

"Orcs?" Sharpe asked with a look at Faramir.

"Our enemy." Faramir explained hastily. "Foul creatures, slaughter everything that's in their way."

By now Aragorn had realized that Faramir had not been alone in the library, but had, had company.

Faramir decided that it was not the time for a lengthy introduction, but that a swift one was still in place.

"My Lord, this is Sharpe, a friend of mine and a soldier. Sharpe, this is Aragorn, my King."

"You gonna fight em' buggers?" Sharpe asked with a nod to Aragorn.

"We are going to fight them." Aragorn nodded. Taken aback briefly by the choice of words. It was hard to tell what to think about this man, he was dressed oddly in trousers and jacket that was of an almost indecent cut, as closely as they held to his body. He looked like a ruffian, and he had a scar on his cheek that gave his face a ruthless look. His dirty blond hair was cut shorter than most men, but it was a sword that was hanging from his belt, and he had something else slung over his shoulder, something that Aragorn could not even guess what it was.

"We will be riding out within an hour, and we should come up against them a day from now."

"Can you use an extra man?" Sharpe asked.

Aragorn had to admit that he was surprised by the offer, he was not used to people who just offered to join in on a battle, but Faramir did seem to have some strange friends.

"Curious to see how we fight?" Faramir smiled gently.

"Aye, if you need to fight the bloody buggers, I can lend you a hand." Sharpe grinned and looked at Aragorn, tilting his head a little.

Aragorn shrugged, if Faramir vouched for this man, than it was really all he needed to know. He trusted the judgment of his Steward any day.

"You are welcome to join us if so should be your wish." He agreed. "Faramir, will you find him a mount?" He then asked.

"I will." Faramir promised. "Please follow me." He then said to Sharpe. "I only have to tell Eowyn I am going and pick up my weapons."

The three men hurried out of the library. Eowyn already knew, she had his sword and bow ready for him, and Faramir only needed a few minutes to change into his ranger's gear. Then he brought Sharpe with him to the stable to find him a mount.

The force that rode out was not the full army, only a few handful more than believed necessary. Aragorn would not leave Minas Tirith with no defense. Not that it really was as Eowyn was still there.

Anyone wanting the city first had to get past Eowyn, and as Faramir and Eomer both readily testified, getting past an angry shield maiden of Rohan was not an easy feat.

They rode until the light failed, and then they set camp, arranging for piquet and cooking pits so the men could eat and sleep safely.

Now Aragorn had time to move over and see more of their newest addition to the army. Sharpe who was seated close to Faramir. The man was receiving some odd looks, but he did not seem to pay any heed of them, as if it did not bother him the slightest. He sat there grinning. Most men who knew a battle was coming showed some nervousness, but this man did not. It was the same way it had been with Boromir, the Gondorian warrior would be almost eager. He would sit and laugh and joke. Making sure that the Hobbit's spirits did not fall. This man had an eager smile as well, as if he longed for a fight, and who knew, maybe he did.

Aragorn went over to them and sat down on the ground. Faramir was occupying himself with readying a spare bowstring, and checking the fletching on his arrows.

As Aragorn sat down Sharpe looked up with a grin. Faramir had warned him that there were some things that he did not know about the Kingdom of dust, and Sharpe was not about to tell him first off. He had yet to see a King that was also a worthy man.

"You don't regret your offer to help?" Aragorn asked politely.

"Afraid I cant handle it, and will turn and run?" Sharpe asked with a chuckle. "Nah, I ain't gonna do that. I wanna see if those buggers are as bad as your men say."

"You have not fought Orcs before?" Aragorn frowned. "They are worse than men, it takes a lot more to slay them. They show no mercy, and they fight until the last breath. They have the size and strength of at least two men put together."

"You ever seen a Yeti fight?" Sharpe asked with a grin. "Big fat bastards, saw em twist a mans neck round his head." Sharpe moved his fingers in a circle as if to demonstrate. "And drive a nail into his head with his fist. They said you could not defeat those, that they were too strong, and you did not have a bloody chance against them, but the buggers are so bloody fat, they cant move fast enough to kill ya."

Faramir hid an amused smile behind a hand, Aragorn looked quite confused. "He has an interesting way of speaking, I am sure you will agree." He said, not fully able to hide his amusement. "Yet he thinks the same of us and our more formal way of conversation."

"Aye, you talk like a bloody Frog half of the time, and a bloody Philosopher the other." Sharpe grinned. "Haven't heard you talk like a soldier yet."

"My brother did." Faramir smiled. "And we have both heard him do it, have we not my friend?" He asked Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded, this was a strange man, very strange. Yet likable with his more than rough manners. He doubted that this man could be made to do anything he did not want to do, and he was most likely fierce in a fight. Yet he seemed very likable and trustworthy, and Aragorn was willing to try and look past the rougher spots.

"How long have you been a soldier?" He asked, he had the manner of one who had been a soldier for quite some time.

"Most of me bloody life." Sharpe grinned. "Joined up to get away from the bloody magistrate, and I've been there ever since."

"How old were you then?" Aragorn asked. He did not like it when the young ones was forced to fight, it happened too often, and it sounded like something of the sort had happened to this man.

"I would have to know when I was born to tell ya that." Sharpe snorted. "Doesn't make any bloody difference either. If ye want to know where I learnt fighting, it was in the gutters and the gin houses. I could fight before I joined, and I can fight now. You're the commander for the army as Faramir says it, and you want to know if I really can fight. Aye, I can, and ye wont see me running."

"I do not think so." Aragorn hurried to say. " But if you are a friend of Faramir, I would like to call you a friend of me as well."

"You, a bloody King. You'd call yourself a friend to me." Sharpe asked baffled, and it was the first time Aragorn had seen him surprised at all. "I'm a bloody bastard, my mother was a whore, and that's all I know. Ye shouldn't even be talking with me, should order me flogged just for looking ye in the eye like a proper King would."

"I would never flog a man for that." Aragorn said disgusted. "I don't punish anyone unless he has committed a crime. You are a strange man Sharpe, but I rather like you, I would like to call you friend."

"Sometimes the difference between armies are bigger than you would think." Faramir shrugged. "It all depends on who is in charge of it I guess. "

"Wellington is a great commander." Sharpe stated. "He's a devil for getting his way in a fight. Em' bloody Frogs haven't got a chance against him. He knows how to get the lads to follow him alright, and he doesn't do it just by flogging, like some of them other buggers do."

"You have been flogged?" Aragorn said softly. He could tell it by the way the man spoke about it. It was not something he was disgusted over, it was something that was, and when it was deserved this man approved of it, but it sounded as if he himself had been flogged unjustly.

"I was flogged alright." Sharpe said with a grin, as if it was something that could not be made to bother him. "I was flogged for something I never did, because a bloody bastard wanted me out of the way. Two hundred and three lashes."

Faramir felt sick over the thought of so many lashes, it was inhumane, it was to much of a death sentence to him. He had heard about death sentences being dealt out through flogging, and it was a very cruel way.

"Why?" Aragorn asked simply.

"Was supposed to be until death, but then they needed someone for a suicide mission, I suppose they did not think it mattered much how I got killed, so they stopped the flogging providing I went." Sharpe grinned at the memory. "Was one of the officers that was supposed to go over to the enemy and claim that he had deserted. He wanted to have a soldier with him, for it."

"And you agreed to it." Aragorn nodded.

"Aye, course I did, would've sent me back to the flogging if I hadn't." Sharpe met Aragorn's gaze. "That officer taught me how to read and write there in a prison cell, if he had not done that, I would never have become an officer."

"They won't promote you if you can't read and write." Aragorn nodded. It made sense in a way. He was just not used to the concept of not being able to read and write.

"I can do it alright now, and Harris a bloody scribe, talking bloody Frog half the time." Sharpe grinned. "I pick up some stuff here and there."

"I think I know something more that Harris would find amusing." Faramir said smiling softly. "Inter arma silent leg es." He smiled at Sharpe. "Its Latin, Among weapons the laws are silent."

Sharpe chuckled at him. "That's for sure. Ain't no better way I know of to shut a fellow up then to stick a rifle in his face."

Sharpe quite looked forward to the fight, he wanted to see how these men would fight. They had no rifles and no muskets, but unless those Orcs were better armed, it should be a fair enough fight. At the very least it looked as if he would finally get a good fight, the bloody army had been sitting still and there had been no fighting for too bloody long.

It was good to be here, Faramir was a nice enough fellow, and even if the King was strange, well, Sharpe was used to a lot worse. What Faramir had said was true, but Sharpe had never bothered too much about laws as such, and it took weapons to enforce them most of the time anyway.

Sharpe would show them how a soldier in the British army fought, and it would be a pleasure.

This is the second part of this tale, and I hope you were all able to enjoy it, now there is the usual temporary ending until next week. Then we shall find out just how Sharpe fights, and it will be interesting enough I hope, until then, fare ye all a pleasurable temporary ending.

Prononunciation Guide by Celebrion:

I'd say he'll ride out with a bang, so to speak...

Not much for me to do here, as seeing how that quote is from the great speaker Cicero of the Roman Empire and no one knows how they talked back then...

See you next week!

Earendil Eldar: I'm beginning to feel as if I am ramming my head against a solid brick wall for every chapter here myself. I love doping this, but at the moment I am hard pressed for ideas and inspiration when I'm writing. Sharpe is great though, he certainly has a softer more considerate side to him, and he is fairly good at hiding it behind a rough exterior and a lot of cursing. Still, for a lad born in the gutter at this time, he has done well, and has done many good deeds.

Lady Elbereth Tealrose: Sharpe is very funny, and you can read the books as well, but I do recommend seeing the movie before reading, you will want to have a clear image of Sean as Sharpe when you read, for he truly fits the role so well. There is a reason why one of the books is dedicated to him after all. As for writing, I keep telling ya I wont stop, and you have not done bad yourself in that regard, my dear padawan, scout, and also little sister.

Lindahoyland: I thought you would enjoy Faramir and Sharpe, and of course Aragorn has to be there as well, it would not work any other way. As for those words that apparently made you blush, they were true all of them. Ah, and yes, you have to love that officer, he takes quite good care of Sharpe, and they are hilarious together.

Steelelf: Sharpe is a bloody bugger ye cant help but like. Comics and fanfics are good, I grew up on Dennis the Menace and Mad Magazine, maybe this is why I'm writing things like this now, eh? I'm very happy that you liked it.

Legolas's Girl 9: Sounds like you are in a bit of trouble there, maybe if you ask nicly Sharpe will let you borrow his picklock.

Silver Sniper: Ah yes, the temporaryity of this, we all like it. As for our skills we have help at times, as will be stated in the authors note, and about punctuality, I am punctual out of fear that all the readers shall be angry on me if I am not. Sometime I really must get some confidence, but as of yet I have not been able to. I am terrified of failing you every week, so it is my hope that you like this.

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.