I knew this would happen. I'm sorry, I really am, but I have no intention of leaving this story unfinished. Hopefully I will progress faster now.
Faramir accidentally discovers the underground world of Minas Tirith that none knew to exist and becomes more submerged in the affairs than he would like to be.
CHAPTER 2
Long Live the Steward
"Let us tell them at once!"
"Eat your breakfast my love."
Sighing to herself, Arwen returned to her meal despite not being hungry. A few strands of her hair had fallen in front of her face, but before she thought to push them out of the way, a hand had already swept them behind her ear. Looking up she met the loving eyes of her husband. "I must insist you withhold your affections in public, my lord," she whispered to him, "people may begin to suspect we are in love."
"A crime indeed! What do you propose, my Lady? A week in the torture chambers to redeem ourselves perhaps?"
"Oh, you horrid man!" Arwen shrieked while Aragorn laughed. "I believe you've done enough already." To emphasis her point, Arwen made a show of jabbing her fork in the direction of her husband.
"Peace with you my Queen, I should hate for Gondor to lose her new found King so soon!" Faramir had been searching the Citadel for the King the better part of his morning. In his haste, he had failed to look in the obvious place for his Lord and Lady, their private dinning hall.
"And how fairs the noble Steward this morning?" Aragorn turned to face Faramir. Though Faramir was much more comfortable around the king then he was a few months ago, the Steward still could not bear the full intensity of Aragorn's all knowing eyes. His grey eyes accompanied by the elf's mysterious smile were almost too much for Faramir this morning. Bowing low and answering the question politely, Faramir prepared to ask his question.
"My Lord, I know it may be an inconvenience, and I apologize for the abruptness, but I would ask leave from my duties for the remainder of the day."
"Well, this is an unforeseen dilemma. A whole day without my Steward to do my bidding…" seeing the anxiety in Faramir's eyes, Aragorn barely resisted the urge to smile. "I shall grant you you're request, on one condition my lord Faramir."
"Anything my King."
"Upon the morrow, you will be responsible for organizing a feast for all city-folk in honor and celebration of my wife's pregnancy."
xxxx
"My wife thinks
I'm with my mum
Really I've been sippin' the rum
My mum thinks I'm
with my wife
Instead o'
drinking the sweet elixir of life!"
"Really you two, your last night in town and you pick this place to stay? The sun has hardly set and already the drunks are out." Malbung and Damrod chuckled at Faramir's statement. Before their former captain could chastise them any more, and couple of young waitresses came by with three mugs of their finest ale. As they set the drinks down, Malbung winked at them, setting them off into a fit of giggles that didn't die down until the girls were far away from the table.
"And that is why we've chosen this place, my friend!" Laughing, the three clashed their mugs together and downed their first drink within the minute. One of the young ladies returned to fill their mugs, and the three men talked about past times, before the war with the Dark Lord.
In many ways, this night was bittersweet for Faramir. He was no longer stationed with the Ithilien Rangers. Many of them had been stationed in Minas Tirith to help rebuild the city. Slowly though, the units had been leaving. Tonight was the last night Damrod and Malbung would spend in the city for a good nine months or so. Though Faramir was grateful to be leaving the life of a soldier, the friend he had made during his time serving had become his family. He would still see them of course, but it would not be the same as before. 'But is that so bad,' Faramir reminded himself, 'we are entering peaceful times. And soon enough I will be starting a new family with the fair lady Eowyn.'
"Excuse me my lord."
Bringing himself back to the present, Faramir turned to see who had addressed him. A young man, no more than twenty five at most, stood behind Faramir's seat with a look of awe in his eyes. Seeing he had the Steward's attention, the man continued.
"Excuse me, but if I'm not mistaken, you are Lord Faramir, are you not?"
"I am." Though initial suspicious, Faramir decided to remain polite in his manner until he was given reason to behave otherwise. "May I be of assistance?"
Falling to his knees, the young man crawled towards Faramir, took the Steward's hand and kissed his ring. Malbung and Damrod were both grasping their swords and watching the man with great suspicion. Faramir was too surprised to react. Staring intensely into Faramir's eyes, the young man declared, "Long live the Steward of Gondor!"
A few men in the tavern repeated this man's words, while falling to one knee in respect for their steward. Slightly amused, Faramir replied to their chants with "Long live the King of Gondor!" However, this declaration was received by silence and blank stares from the majority of the tavern's occupants.
Rising from his knee, yet still holding Faramir's hand, the young man again stared deeply into his lord's eyes. This time the intensity was nearly too strong for Faramir, but he held the gaze and kept an outward appearance of indifference. With a note of finality in his voice, he repeated "Long life the Steward of Gondor."
xxxx
"What do you make of it Damrod?"
"Make of what?"
"The young man at The Red Horse tonight?"
Damrod knew Malbung would not leave this topic alone. Soon after the incident, Faramir had decided he would call it an early night and had bid the two good night and good luck. Because neither was tired, the two rangers sat on the porch of a more reputable inn, having already paid for their rooms. "I can't say I'm surprised," Damrod finally said. "It seemed unrealistic that everyone would take to a stranger from the north suddenly ruling over them. We've been without a king for so long; I don't think any of us really expected him to return."
"Aye."
The two became lost in their own thoughts, staring at the stars and enjoying the night air. Malbung rose and began to head inside the inn. Pausing at the door he turned to look at his friend, and Damrod waited for him to speak. Finally, Malbung hesitantly said, "If it came down to it, I think I'd serve my steward before my king."
TBC...
Not the most exciting chapter, but the stage must be set in order for events to unfold. Input is greatly appreciated!
