Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales of the Telcontars (PG-13)

Written by Susana

19 September 2011 | 56124 words | Work in Progress

Little Things

Faramir gave his the King- his father, strange thought, that – an odd look. “You’re upset because you don’t know which foods I liked as a toddler?”

Aragorn waved a hand, struggling for words. “Not that, specifically, but all of those little things. When you first walked,”

“No one knows.” Faramir noted, “but it was probably in the Houses of Healing.”

“When you first talked,” The King continued.

“Aloud? I was two, or three. I forget which. But it was because Uncle Imrahil made me.” Faramir answered.

Aragorn nodded, thinking he could probably get that story from Imrahil, or Amrothos. “The point is, dear one, I don’t know these things about you, that I know about Eldarion. The little things that a father should know about his son.”

“Well, my favorite toy soldier is definitely the troubadour.” Faramir told him with a straight face, adding to the pile of petitions he felt the King needed to go through personally.

“Faramir, I’m trying to be serious,” Aragorn lectured lightly, fighting a smile, “and I saw you sneak that into my pile,” the King pulled up the scroll, scanned it, and then sighed and put it back down, “and I will deal with it, but I’d like to know these little bits of your history. For instance, I don’t know even know the first time you kissed a girl.” Aragorn complained.

Faramir blinked. “Well, it wasn’t a girl, and it was a really, really long story.”

It was Aragorn’s turn to blink. “And you see, I didn’t know that.”

Faramir added blandly, “Dev was involved.”

Aragorn sighed, not sure whether he was more resigned, amused or intrigued. “Of course he was.”

A moment of silence passed.

“I’m never going to hear that story, am I?” The King said to his son in gentle resignation.

Faramir gave him a half smile, getting up to peruse another pile of files flagged for the King’s attention. “No, probably not.”

As Faramir leaned over to grab a law book from a stack on the floor, Aragorn rolled his eyes, and smacked his older son’s slender backside firmly.

“Ow. What was that for?” Faramir asked, confused. Or at least pretending to be confused.

“Successfully distracting me from learning more about you.” The King scolded. “We’re going to be late for council. This discussion isn’t over.”

Faramir shook his head, smiling a little. “If you weren’t so easily distracted…”

“Watch it.” Aragorn scolded with a light laugh, thinking how much Faramir sounded like Erestor. “Someone has to deal with the weaver guild’s new objection to the alpaca issue. Keep being difficult, and it might be you.”

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/tales-of-the-telcontars. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!