Faramir Fiction Archive

Fairborn (PG)

Written by Paul Price

26 August 2011 | 24652 words

Title: Fairborn
Author: Paul Price
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Faramir

This is a sixteen chapter short novel detailing curious events and various adventures in the twentieth year of Faramir and Eowyn’s marriage. The adventures and events concern them, their children, their friends, the countries of Gondor, Rohan, Dunland, and Harad, and enemies they did not know they had.

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Chapter 8: Éowyn and the Outlaws

After the foursome had ridden for several leagues from Minas Tirith, Éowyn called a halt.

“We need to be wary. There was another assassination attempt last night.” She said.

The two rangers and Ganwyn were astonished, as they thought Minas Tirith was safe.

“Why didn’t you tell us this morning?” Said Bergrond.

“I didn’t want Faramir to know. He would have stopped me from making this trip, and I really need to heal people right now.”

“Ya can’t ‘eal ‘em if you’re dead.” Said Anbor.

“Then make sure that I’m not dead anytime soon.”

“Then I’ll scout ahead from now on.” Said Anbor, “and Bergrond will stay close to ya.”

Several leagues later, they approached a woods, and Anbor returned.

“There are five men in the woods. It ‘d be a good spot fer an ambush.” He said.

“What do you propose we do?” Said Éowyn.

“We can either ride around ‘em, which would slow us down much, or we can set our own trap.”

“Let’s set our own trap.” Said Ganwyn excitedly, and Éowyn agreed.

“Not everyone we meet on this trip will be an assassin, and we need to find out what these people’s intent is.” Said Éowyn.

Éowyn and Bergrond rode slowly forward on the path through the woods, while Anbor and Ganwyn rode ahead into the woods and tied up their horses at a spot near the possible ambush point. Ganwyn took one side of the road and Anbor the other and they searched for the five men. Soon they found the men. Three of the men were in the road with swords, and two others were hidden in the woods with bows. Anbor quickly knocked out the two archers, and he and Ganwyn took their places with bows in hand.

Shortly thereafter, Éowyn and Bergrond approached.

“Halt!” Shouted one of the men, who was their leader, “you will not pass here without fair payment for passage.”

“And what is fair payment?” Said Éowyn.

“Whatever I say it is.” Said the outlaw leader.

“I am going to Dol Amroth to heal the sick and injured, and have nothing you would want.”

The outlaws laughed, “Who do you think you are, the Lady of Ithilien?” Said the leader.

“Yes, I am Éowyn.”

The three outlaws stepped back. “The woman who killed the Witch-King?” Said one of the outlaws. “We better let her pass.”

“No!” Said the leader, “Not without fair payment. They can go if she leaves her horse.”

“This horse is worth a kingdom. There are only four like it in the world, and only one other is a mare like this one.” Said Éowyn.

“I will take it whether you’re alive or dead. I have ten hidden archers who will loose on you at my command.”

“Ya ‘ad two archers, but now we ‘ave two.” Said Anbor from hiding.

The other two outlaws stepped back another step, but their leader had not lost his bravado. “I will have your horse as fair payment!”

A younger Éowyn would have drawn her sword and charged them, but this was a more experienced and cleaver Éowyn. “You may have her, if she wants you.” She said as she slid off Snowfall’s back. “I’ve killed enough men this week.”

The outlaw leader ran to Snowfall, as Éowyn climbed behind Bergrond. The two Ithiliens then rode away, as the outlaw leader chuckled with glee. “What a beautiful horse.” He said. Soon he noticed that the horse had no saddle, bit, reins, or bridle. Shortly thereafter, he found his two archers hanging by their feet from trees, unconscious. Still later, he tried to mount the horse, and was thrown so high and hard that the landing broke his left arm. Snowfall then rejoined Éowyn farther down the road to Dol Amroth.

“I think he received his fair payment.” Laughed Snowfall to Éowyn later. It was the third and last time Snowfall talked to her.

As the trip continued, Bergrond asked Éowyn about Snowfall. “Are there really only four Mearas in the world?”

“Yes, Faramir helped me research it after Theowyn was born, back when I was learning to read. Shadowfax was the Lord of Horses and mated with several exceptional mares. He sired some horses and some Mearas. One of the Mearas was a mare named Swiftshadow, the only known Mearas mare now alive. Swiftshadow is still alive in Rohan. Swiftshadow mated with Snowmane and produced Snowfall. However, no more Mearas have been foaled since. Snowfall is the youngest Mearas, and could eventually be the last. Of course, Shadowfax is still alive, but quite old for even a Mearas.”

“Where is the fourth Mearas?” Said Bergrond.

“He is my brother’s warhorse, Shadowlightning. The King of Rohan’s warhorse. He was born the same day as my brother, I’ve read. Some say they are fated to die on the same day.”

“What happened to the other horses sired by Shadowfax. The ones who were not Mearas.” Asked Ganwyn.

“They were magnificent horses, but only one is still alive. The others aged and died over the many years of Shadowfax’s life. You have ridden the last remaining horse that Shadowfax sired; he is your father’s horse, Donder. You’ve ridden him, lastborn, but didn’t know his history and importance.”

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