Faramir Fiction Archive

In Good Company (G)

15 October 2007 | 550 words

Title: In Good Company
Author: foxrafer
Characters: Faramir, Legolas, Pippin, Beregond
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All make-believe; the characters belong to Tolkien but I’ve taken them out to play.
Author’s note: Written for the faramir_fics Summer in Ithilien Challenge. This is AU in that I don’t think it closely follows either the books or the movies.

Faramir smiled at the familiar figure entering his office, gladly setting aside the latest trade reports to welcome him. Legolas’ arrival was unexpected but not unusual. He often stopped to report on the latest restoration efforts or the now less frequent skirmishes with what remained of the orcs who had escaped Mordor after the war. Shortly after Faramir returned to Ithilien and settled in the foothills of Emyn Arnen, Legolas also took residence in the once verdant land, the elf and his kin joining the steward and his soldiers on patrol to weed the orcs from the region. Over time Faramir and Legolas became close friends, and as the imminent dangers subsided, the Mirkwood prince worked with Éowyn to restore the land’s natural beauty.

This morning’s visit brought a welcome surprise, as partway through the latest reconstruction news Legolas announced there was a visitor who had requested a brief conference. The door opened and Beregond escorted their dear friend Pippin into the room; Faramir couldn’t rise fast enough to greet him. The hobbit seemed wiser and more mature, but his joyful and mischievous nature still shone through. Faramir felt the weight of duty and commitment removed from his shoulders, and reveled at once again being among his dearest friends. For once conversation didn’t evolve into remembrance of Boromir, as often happened when he was with any of the final living lines he had to his beloved brother’s last days. Although he found comfort in these anecdotes, this day he was turned away from the past and future, his friends rooting him firmly in the present.

The four companions quickly left the austere trappings of Faramir’s office and joined Éowyn in the small garden she treasured, filled with lush ferns and beds of hyacinths, low stone walls covered with curling ivy. It had been too long since Faramir had taken the time to enjoy the peaceful beauty of his cherished country. His heart longed for the wilds that beckoned around them, to stretch his legs on the hillocks and glens. With a gleam in his eye, he bade his wife farewell with a quick kiss then ushered his guests into the house, suddenly filled with the energy of a school boy. With a brief stop in the kitchen for a few provisions, they set out to climb the closest summit, taking a circuitous path through the cooler air under the canopy of trees.

After an hour of hiking they emerged on a wide rock surrounded on two sides by thick stands of firs sweeping steeply to distant cliffs, the far edge providing a glorious view of the rebuilt splendor of Osgiliath. There the four sat, smoking some of Pippin’s special stock of pipeweed, enjoying the wind in their faces and the sun on their skin. Faramir filled his lungs with the heady scent of herbs and flowers, and relished in the warm sea air as it made its way up the Anduin.

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