Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales from Gondor (R)

Written by Minx

23 September 2012 | 36179 words

Title: The Treasure Hunt
Pairing: Aragorn / Faramir
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: LOTR and its characters are Tolkien’s.
Summary: The hobbits organise a treasure hunt in Minas Tirith
A/N: For the ‘Sport’ prompt on 25fluffyfics. Many thanks to Iris for her help!

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“A treasure hunt,” Pippin announced suddenly at breakfast one morning, loud enough to cause a startled Faramir to nearly jump. Their other companions were used to such interruptions but Faramir was still unused to so much noise at the table. Meals in his father’s time, at the Citadel as well as at Ithilien had always been quiet, sober affairs to be finished with quickly.

There would rarely be such lively talk or teasing, and certainly no throwing of food at each other’s plates.

“Yes, Pippin?” Mithrandir asked with a weary sigh.

For the last two days the younger Halflings had moped around the Citadel declaring their intention to do some thing fun.

“We should have a treasure hunt,” Pippin repeated, through a mouthful of strawberry preserves.

“Dear Eru!” Gandalf said with some feeling, “Isn’t that all we need?”

“It sounds like an excellent idea,” Aragorn said indulgently, as he bit into a generous helping of honeyed bread, “This is very nice,” he continued abstractly and pushed the plateful of bread towards Faramir, “You should have some. You’re far too thin.”

Faramir flushed at that. He was still uncomfortable over how everyone seemed to think it was all right to speak of him within his hearing.

“Yes, even Legolas eats more than you do,” Pippin pointed out, as he reached for a plate heaped with mashed potatoes. Legolas made an indistinct sound as he bit into an apple.

“What’s a good idea?” Faramir asked hurriedly, “Would you like to go on a hunt? That may not be possible. We have restricted hunting this year. There was a lot of –,”

‘It’s not the same thing,” Gandalf interrupted.

Faramir looked sufficiently confused, as did Legolas and Gimli so Pippin and Merry took it upon themselves to explain, interspersed with a few explanations from Frodo and Sam and Aragorn as well.

“Well, that is interesting,” Faramir said, “Do they use this in the Shire to teach the young lads battle strategy and endurance?”

Merry stared at Faramir in surprise.

“Oh no,” Pippin replied disarmingly, “It is merely a sport.”

“Oh!” Faramir said wonderingly, “It sounds a little childish though,” he said hesitantly.

“It is,” Gandalf said. He sounded rather annoyed, “They will turn the Citadel upside down and force you to help them if you let them do it, Aragorn.”

“I think I will let them do it, Gandalf,” Aragorn said rather pleasantly, “And we’ll all play. You too Faramir!” he said rather sternly to the young Steward who seemed about to speak, “Yes, the councillors may think it childish but that is no matter. You lads can do it on your own, can you? Or would you need us to help?”

Pippin and Merry were too busy cheering to listen.

They spent all of the next day organising the game. Faramir was extremely curious about it, and went in search of them after luncheon. The young hobbits had not been there and it was most unlike them to miss a meal! He found them in the terrace outside Aragorn’s study, poring over a map of the Citadel gardens. They hastily put it away as he neared, and looked at him accusingly.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” Pippin declared, “We can’t have you discovering the hiding places by accident!”

“I thought I’d see if you need any help!” Faramir said indignantly.

“Aragorn said we shouldn’t take your help,” Pippin blurted out.

Faramir blinked at that.

“I merely pointed out that you had enough of your own duties to occupy your time, to get drawn into their whirlwind of activity,” Aragorn said, as he suddenly came up behind Faramir, “Besides,” he said very softly, “If you have some time free, I would rather occupy that, if you would like it.”

Faramir smiled in acquiescence, and let himself be led back into the Citadel through the study to Aragorn’s bedchambers where they spent a very fruitful afternoon in each other’s arms.

The treasure hunt turned out to be a complicated affair to Faramir’s mind. Gandalf resolutely refused to participate, but Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn were only too happy to do so. They gathered in the king’s gardens, a large spread of wooded land just off the Citadel. The hobbits gave everyone sheets of parchment written in different coloured ink, and told them those would provide the clues to other clues, all in the same coloured ink that would lead them to their treasures. Everyone had a different set of treasures, and which each one they’d find a whistle Once they found their treasure, they should let out the whistle.

“And no helping each other!” Merry said sternly, glaring at Legolas who was showing his parchment to Gimli.

Faramir had been given a long poem, written very neatly in red ink. Frodo must have done the writing, he decided, as he set off towards a small bower to figure out his clue. The others had already set off too, and there was no sight of them.

He read through the poem once and then again, and then sat back thoughtfully, trying to understand the link between a children’s tale of a clever crow and Ioreth’s sister’s remedy for failed love.

“Hmm… failed love… healers… healers… who could be…. Oh! Ioreth… what did she say now that day at the gardens… oh!” he blushed as he remembered Ioreth cackling about a herbal infusion that was believed to improve potency. She had spoken of mint and… and … rose thorns…

“The wild roses by the statue of the lady with the…falcon…,” he said aloud, smiling with delight. He nearly ran there in his haste to see if he was correct and was glad to find a rolled up scroll of paper at the base of the statue, and a tiny carving of a bird, along with a whistle. He blew into it and laughed as it let out the perfect trill of a woodland bird.

The next clue, he managed to solve quickly, a badly rhyming riddle that he realised soon, required him to walk along the garden walls searching for his next clue in a nook. He found it after a while along with an orange and another whistle. The clue took him to a huge oak tree at the other end of the gardens. He stood at the base and stared keenly at the branches. He could see the parchment in a hole at one of the higher forks. Placing the carving, orange, whistles and other two clues on the ground, he set to climb the tree. He had just reached for the nearest handhold when he was interrupted.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Aragorn didn’t sound very pleased.

Faramir turned, a little worried by the stern tone.

“What ever are you doing, love?” Aragorn asked again, a lot more calmly this time.

“My clue,” Faramir pointed out.

“The healers told you not to exert your shoulder yet,” Aragorn said quietly.

“But the clue,” Faramir said, pouting, “I’ve already found two,” he said excitedly, “And that bird and this orange.”

Aragorn smiled at the enthusiasm in the young steward’s voice. He stared at him carefully. Faramir’s face was reddened from running around the gardens, and his usually neatly arrayed hair and clothes were rumpled and mud-streaked. A twig was stuck in his hair.

“Well,” Aragorn said, still smiling, “Then I suppose you’d better get it soon, hadn’t you?”

Faramir grinned back, the smile transforming his face, making him look far younger, and much closer to his age.

Aragorn stayed there, watching the younger man climb. He was down again soon; climbing is swift, lithe, graceful movements, clutching the piece of parchment, another whistle, a pine cone and a small wooden box.

“I found my treasure,” he said excitedly, and then hurried blew into his whistle, a songbird soud this time. He got an answering whistle in return.

“That was very well done!” Aragorn said, approvingly.

“I should get back to Pippin now, shouldn’t I?” Faramir asked anxiously.

“Yes, let’s go,” Aragorn said, wondering if he might kiss Faramir.

“What about your treasure?” Faramir demanded, “Did you find it?”

Aragorn nodded but said nothing. He set off towards the Citadel.

“What was in it? Do I open this now?” Faramir asked, as he hurried behind Aragorn, his hands full now.

They heard another songbird whistle just then.

“Looks like someone else found a treasure too,” Aragorn said.

“Oh! I wonder whose that was,” Faramir said interestedly, “The clues were quite good weren’t they? What were your clues like? I thought my third one was a little easy though. There was this line about seeing all, and another about feeding birds, so I realised it must be the tallest tree in the gardens.”

That was by far the longest sentence Aragorn had heard from Faramir in a long time. Another whistle blew just then. And then a series of short bursts on Pippin’s whistle.

“Are we late then?” Faramir, asked a little disappointed.

“Not if we run,” Aragorn said, grinning, and grabbing Faramir’s hand, dragged him through the trees, past the wall, and over a row of daisies to the steps were the hobbits were waiting. Faramir laughed delightedly as he followed him.

“We’re here,” Faramir yelled when they reached their friends, huffing a little as he regained his breath.

“And you have all your treasures, I see,” Merry said smiling, “Gimli found his too, but Legolas -,” he turned to glare at the grinning elf, managed to miss out one in between.”

“How did he do that?’ Faramir asked, surprised, “Don’t you need –“

“Well,” Legolas drawled, “I thought I was to go the unused fountain but apparently I was to go to the old pond first and then -,” He glanced at Pippin’s upset face, and quickly amended, “But it’s my fault really, I should have thought more carefully. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, well, it happens,” pippin said philosophically, “Strider, did you get yours?”

“I got these, Pippin,” Aragorn said, holding up a pot of jam and a quill that Faramir vaguely recognised as one of the king’s, “But I couldn’t understand the next clue. Forgive me. It was very tough.”

Faramir gave him a surprised look, but Aragorn’s expression remained bland.

“Oh!” Pippin said, “Well, yes, we didn’t want to make it too easy, did we. Let me see… oh! You see this line about the smells and the seasons… it means the herb garden. You’d have found your treasure there.”

“Oh, yes, I see that now.”

“What now?” Gimli asked suddenly, trying to balance a carving of a mermaid, a book on trees and a bunch of grapes and three pieces of parchment.

“Well,” Merry said, “We usually have a party after this, so I suppose we should get to dinner!”

“I think I can take care of that,” Aragorn said smiling, “I thought I’d give you two a little treasure of your own, to make up for all the time you spent waiting here while we enjoyed ourselves.”

He led them into a small bower a little way away and smiled as the hobbits whooped with joy at the sight of the table, piled with food.

It was dark outside when they were done with the huge meal. The plates had been cleared away but they felt too lazy to move and so stayed on there, sprawling on the cushions that had been used for seating, talking idly of trivial matters or just staring at the skies. The hobbits yawned at regular intervals clearly tiring after the day’s exertions but also made no move to rise. Faramir was lying back, leaning against a column, idly munching away at some grapes. It had been a long day and they were clearly tiring. Aragorn sipped at a cup of mead and watched his Steward.

Faramir glanced up at him and smiled, and then yawned too. Aragorn grinned.

“You told me you found your treasure,” Faramir said, seeking to divert his attention.

Aragorn inched closer, and wrapped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders. He pulled the twig out of his hair, and then wound a long lock around one finger. Leaning closer to Faramir he whispered in his ear.

“I did. I found you.”

Faramir stared at him in confusion.

“I can think of no greater treasure I’d want.” Aragorn whispered again, and gently placed a kiss on the Steward’s lips.

“You flatter me,” Faramir mumbled, but deepened the kiss anyway. Aragorn pulled him down leaning back against the cushions. Faramir followed him, only to sit up at the sound of the others’ groans and whoops, red-faced.

“Right, lads, in we go,” Gimli said, rising, grinning all the while.

“Yes,” Legolas smirked, “He didn’t quite blow a whistle for that did he?”

“We’ll leave you to your next sport then,” Pippin shouted out in between giggles, as he scrambled off behind Merry.

“Get back inside before it gets too cold,” Legolas shouted out, as he herded the hobbits inside.

“There’s a blanket under the table,” Aragorn muttered, and pulled Faramir down again, “And my treasure’s quite good at warming me up too!”

Faramir giggled at that and let himself be kissed again.

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