Faramir Fiction Archive

Naming Day (G)

12 January 2010 | 969 words

Characters: Faramir, Éowyn
Rating: G
Warnings: Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine

The palace of Meduseld in Edoras was glistening with lights and happiness for the celebration of the naming day of the heir of the house of Eorl. King Éomer’s first-born has been named Elfwine that very day at the presence of many crowned-heads. His mother, Queen Lothiriel, has joked that this was due not so much to the fact that it was an important birth in these days of peace, but because the little one had relatives in most of the royal houses of Middle-Earth.
“We just have to have him marry a Haradrim princess and we would have managed to link all the royal houses together.” she had said once they were discussing their complicated family ties. Éomer had laughed at her words, until he had tears in his eyes.

The celebration was in full swing and after all the toasts to the new child the atmosphere had somehow acquired a less serious tinge. Even the Elven guests had began to appear less magical and more approachable.

Faramir was looking at the merriment with a smile on his face. Éowyn was close to him, her eyes shining with joy for her brother and sister-in-law. She was with child, too and the Steward of Gondor thought that she was even more beautiful than ever and he was the luckiest man on Arda to have her love.

Faramir hadn’t drunk much during the meal, preferring to keep his head clear and also because he had discovered a long time ago that he didn’t need to be drunk to enjoy himself. Meanwhile he was taking a close look upon the Gondorian party. Apart from the King and his Queen, a few lords and ladies have been invited and while many of them were good people, there were a few to keep in sight, expecially Lord Kinn. If idiocy could be seen as a criminal offence, he would deserve the death penalty. He belonged to one of the oldest families of the realm, but he seemed to have inherited only the bad traits and none of his ancestors’ virtues. As usual he was scowling. In Faramir’s opinion Lord Kinn seemed to think that everything bad happening to him was a personal offence made to him, his family, his titles and the like. And – worst of all – he was very vocal in his disappointment, venting towards everyone and everything. The Steward would have liked to let him in Minas Tirith, but with Faramir and the King both away, nobody could foresee what the man might do. So Lord Kinn was in Edoras, doing his best in behaving like the idiot he was.

While he hadn’t thee keen hearing of the elves, being a Ranger for many years had honed his senses, so Faramir heard the unpolite comments Lord Kinn was making about the Rohirrim in general, and the King in particular. He also whispered to his wife that the King had made a mistake allowing the blood of Gondor, being mingled to that of such barbaric people. A red mist clouded Faramir’s vision and only the thought that in strangling the man would ruin the celebration, saved Lord Kinn from a beating in that very moment. Éowyn sensed somehow his mood because she turned to him.
“Is everything allright, Faramir?” she asked.
“It will be soon, my love. I am going to discuss something with Lord Kinn and I will be back in a moment.” Faramir answered and his blue eyes sparkled with an anger his wife has rarely seen and never toward her.

Lord Kinn hadn’t seen the Steward approaching and was startled upon hearing his words so close to him.
“Lord Kinn, I suggest you to refrain from making unpolite and stupid comments about the King of this land. You could be heard and I don’t think that King Elessar would choose you over his good friend King Éomer, should some of your words fall on Rohirric ears and someone decide to teach you a lesson. On my part, I would like to remind you that I married Lady Eoywn of Rohan whose courage, strenght, intelligence and importance for Gondor outweigh yours at tenfold and more. She’s with child, my heir, and I am really glad that her Rohirric blood will flow in his or her veins. If you are a paragon of Gordon ancient blood, I would pray the Valar that my child inherits none of it.”
Faramir’s voice was as smooth and polite as ever, but the anger underneath it worried Lord Kinn. He had always thought that Denethor’s second son was too meek to be the Steward, but now, Lord Kinn could feel why the younger man was so respected as a warrior.
“If you don’t want to be assigned to count the trees in Fangorn forest, attired like an orc, keep your mouth shut.” Faramir concluded and his blue eyes seemed to glow.
“I… will, my Lord Steward”, Lord Kinn stammered and the Prince of Ithilien smiled at him.
It wasn’t a nice smile, though.

Éowyn had witnessed the exchange and from the paleness of Lord Kinn’s face, she guessed that Faramir had dressed him down spectacularly. She always loved when Faramir’s fierceness come close to the surface. He was a very nice man who kept his own fire well hidden. She loved his sweetness, but also his passion that usually was reserved for her and their rooms. She thought evilly that for getting a reprimand by her husband, Lord Kinn must have been even more stupid than usual. She grinned and when Faramir returned to his place next to her, she kissed him.
“What for?” he asked with a smile.
“Because you are you”.
It was Faramir’s turn to smile.

The end

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/naming-day. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!