A/N: I own nothing. The House of Hurin and the line of Telcontar belong to Tolkien.


The problem with trees, Faramir decided, was that they got taller as you got older. This wasn't quite so obvious between the ages of five to fifteen, for at that age, you were growing too. But when a man reached forty-seven, the tree had begun to surpass him in relative gained height.

Even worse, said tree had gone through generations of young boys fooling around in its canopy, breaking branches both accidentally in the course of climbing and on purpose in order to equip themselves for swordfights, carving initials of sweethearts into its trunk, and generally weakening the limbs with their squirrel-like antics. Faramir remembered very well how thrilling it could be to hear the creak of a branch, to feel the "ground" beneath your feet sway like a ship's deck, and to cling to the rough bark with your hands, for you were never quite sure if there would be enough strength in the limb beneath you. That did not mean that he felt any better about the sight before him.

"Elboron!" he called after the foot disappearing into the broad summer leaves. A pair of giggles resounded from above, but there was no other immediate response.

Faramir's heart dropped with the dark head of hair as the crown prince of the realm swung into view, barely clinging to the low branch with his knees. Eldarion's expression showed no concern for his elder's worry or the drop beneath him. "It's all right, Prince Faramir," the upside-down boy assured him, swinging confidently with his arms crossed before him. "'Boron and I are training to be rangers."

Faramir raised an eyebrow. "I don't know how your father trained in the north, but my men never had to swing by their knees." Boromir had sometimes pulled that trick in his youth, but Faramir had been too nervous to try it more than once. One lump to his head had been enough.

Eldarion shrugged, indicating that he did not know about Elessar's tree-climbing experience, either. "You ought to try it. You could shoot a bow or wield a sword from here."

As if to illustrate his friend's point, Elboron chose that moment to appear from the elm's canopy, a thin branch in hand. "Come on, Papa!" he said, gesturing with his makeshift weapon. "You can see all sorts of things differently from up here. Besides, it's fun!" the younger boy added conspirationally. Eldarion's smug grin widened.

Faramir shook his head, stepping up to take the stick from his son's hand. "I fear that I weigh too much to play the Haradric monkey anymore."

"Maybe not a monkey," Elboron conceded, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "But I bet you could still climb this tree like a squirrel. Eldarion and I can sit on the same branch as high up as the third floor. If it can hold both of us, it can probably hold you." Having climbed higher than that with his brother, Faramir knew that it had been able to, at one point. Now… he was not quite so certain.

"You haven't told him the best part, 'Boron." Eldarion righted himself as well, much to Faramir's relief.

"Shh! Don't spoil the surprise!" The younger boy grabbed the branch above him, scrabbling out of his father's reach.

Eldarion swung his legs indolently, staring down at Faramir. "Well?" The ten-year-old stretched out a hand.

Faramir sighed, and hung his lightweight tunic over a nearby bench. "I'll catch up." Eldarion flashed him a grin, then disappeared once more into the canopy.

"It's not that high," Elboron assured his father. It was beginning to feel high to Faramir. It had been a dozen years since he had climbed a tree, and whilst the Steward had never been particularly acrophobic, he was not entirely at ease with the concept of his son being so far off the ground. "Just a bit further…" Elboron encouraged.

Faramir stopped a few branches lower than the boys, hopefully in a position to break their falls, should the worst happen. At least he would avoid falling atop them. "Here it is!" Eldarion crowed, rubbing his hand over the tree trunk as if to dust off some ancient artifact. "He didn't climb nearly as high as we did."

Faramir traced the fading intials himself, feeling his son's hopeful eyes upon the back of his head. "The tree wouldn't have been nearly so high to climb, back then," he responded softly. Others had carved over it, and there was no telling for certain that this was actually his handiwork, but the "M" was deep and solid. "I take it you found it, Eldarion?"

The young prince shook his head in a rare display of humility. "'Boron did, actually, sir."

"I thought you might think it was important, Papa. Historically speaking, of course," Elboron added quickly, scrambling around the trunk.

"It is, Elboron. 'Tis rare enough to have direct histories that go all the way back to the kings of old; a living one is even more so." Faramir smiled as he grasped an overhead branch, feeling the limb beneath him rock under the combination of moving children and warm summer breeze. Some things, it seemed, had not changed in an age.

"Is it like the White Tree, then? Is it the Steward's Tree? You think all our ancestors have signed it, Papa?" Elboron's questions spilled forth before his father had the chance to line up his thoughts. Eldarion looked just as eager for answers, although he had not managed to get the questions out before his friend.

"Officially, no," Faramir said, cutting the boys off. "It is but a normal elm tree like any other, special only because it has grown up so close to the citadel. The White Tree is descended from Teleperion itself and is a gift of the Valar. I do not think all of our ancestors left their marks in this tree, but because it is so close to the nursery, I can assure you that you two are not the first ones to leave your mark upon it."

"No," Elboron responded, smiling. "There's a 'D.E.' with a little horn beneath it outside my window to prove it."

Faramir thought he remembered that one. "And if you go up six more branches, you shall find a 'B.D.' to match. The 'F.' beneath it was not my work, but upon my honor, I have climbed higher than that."

"I bet you could do it again," Eldarion announced, and was off into the canopy like a shot. Elboron followed close behind. Faramir shook his head, and then gingerly started up the long-abused limbs of the utterly pedestrian Steward's Tree. He would have to be able to hide far up in the branches indeed if the king's son decided to follow Mardil Voronwe's example.