Faramir Fiction Archive

The Prince of Ithilien (NC-17)

Written by Raihon

08 June 2007 | 33215 words

Counsel

Upon returning to his chamber in the morning, Faramir was surprised to see a midwife by Éowyn’s bed. The midwife was equally surprised to see the Steward emerging from the servants’ passage.

“Oh!” the midwife exclaimed.

Éowyn gave Faramir an apologetic look.

“Is everything all right?” Faramir asked, moving swiftly to Éowyn’s side.

“The labor has begun,” the midwife said.

“I explained that you had gone to take your rest in one of the guest chambers and that they should not bother waking you,” Éowyn quickly interjected.

Faramir was consternated. Not only had his lustful attentions probably brought on the early labor, he had then abandoned his wife to fend for herself in her moment of need, and furthermore, she could not send for him without the whole household finding out where he had really spent the night. “I am so sorry!” he said, dismayed. “I should not have left.”

Éowyn took his hand and patted it. “Everything is fine. After the water broke, I simply found a guard in the hallway who sent for my maid, who fetched a midwife, and here we all are, happy and healthy…” she winced and breathed out audibly.

“My lord,” said the midwife, pushing Faramir out of the way, “it is time for you to leave.”

“The Great Council!” Faramir exclaimed. “I will be in the council all day. This is a disaster!”

Éowyn made a sour face, breathing furiously. “How do you think I feel?” she gasped. “Will you ask Legolas…to present…my report?” she grunted. “He is…familiar…with the main points. Aah,” she sighed as the contraction passed.

The midwife gave Faramir another gentle shove. “Be gone. This is women’s work.”

Faramir glared at her and pushed past her to kiss Éowyn. “I am sorry,” he said again.

“Go. I will have Doronil fetch you when there is something to see,” Éowyn promised.

Faramir looked around the room in confusion. “My clothes,” he said, only now noticing that he was parading around in front of strange women wearing nothing more than a dressing gown. “I will change in the other room,” he muttered.

Two hours later, there was no word from Doronil but the Council meeting was about to begin. The lords of all the major houses of Gondor were gathered around the large oval table, flanked by their captains and their sons or other advisors. Behind Aragorn sat Arwen and Valacar. To Aragorn’s right was Imrahil, with Elphir and the Captain of the Swan Knights. To Aragorn’s left was Faramir, who had with him Mablung and Legolas.

The economic reports began with Imrahil and would work their way around to Faramir late in the first day of the council. The second day would be occupied with military affairs and any pressing issues that remained from the first day’s reports. It was very hard for Faramir to contain his nerves while his uncle spoke, as he had already heard the reports from Dol Amroth twice over. More than a few times, he glanced toward the door, wondering when Doronil would call for him. Aragorn did an admirable job of ignoring Faramir’s anxiety, but Arwen kept meeting his gaze with her own concerned eyes.

When the Council adjourned for lunch, Arwen was immediately at Faramir’s side and told him, “I will check on her.”

“Thank you,” Faramir said, taking her hand and squeezing it.

Faramir felt too nervous to eat, but he had to make himself available, so he circulated among the lords and listened to what they wanted him to hear. And when the lords were not paying attention to him, Faramir also listened to what they did not want him to hear: mutterings about price restrictions and rumors of trouble in the south. Lord Bregor of Lebennin had his back to Faramir, who passed by and overheard Bregor jesting, “at least before the War you never saw Elves at the Great Council of Gondor.”

Suddenly, a blushing Doronil was at Faramir’s side saying, “my Lord! You may see her now!”

Faramir looked over to Aragorn, who immediately rose and followed Faramir out of the dining room and over to the King’s house. As they walked, Aragorn put a hand on the small of Faramir’s back, as if to propel him along, but Faramir knew it to be a gesture of affection.

When he entered his chamber, he saw Arwen holding a pink lump wrapped in a thin blanket. Arwen smiled and gingerly walked over to him. “You have a daughter,” she said, breathily. Arwen held out his baby to him, and their eyes locked for a moment.

“Le hannon, gwathel nín⁴,” Faramir said, taking the baby in his arms. He smiled, his eyes moving from the baby to Arwen’s startled face. “May we not call each other kin?” he asked.

Slowly Arwen smiled. “Yes, that word rings true, gwadoreg.”

Faramir rolled his eyes and said to Aragorn, “little brother? Already the teasing begins.”

Aragorn laughed and put his arm around Arwen, leaning over her shoulder to look at the baby in Faramir’s arms.

“I am here, too,” Éowyn called weakly.

Faramir sat on the bed next to Éowyn. “How are you, my blessed wife?”

Éowyn smiled. “Happy and healthy. It was much easier this time. I only cursed you once or twice.”

Faramir bent over to kiss her forehead. “What will this one be called?” he asked.

Éowyn looked at him hopefully. “Theodwyn?”

Faramir looked at the girl, whose face was distorted in a yawn. He smiled tenderly. “She will be called Theodwyn,” he said firmly, still gazing at her puckery face. To Éowyn he said, “you have excellent timing. We were just eating lunch. I did not have to miss a minute of enthralling economic reports to come here.”

Éowyn smiled. “At your service, my lord. Now let me sleep.”

Faramir handed Theodwyn back to his wife and left the room with Aragorn and Arwen, both of whom embraced him tightly once they were in the hallway.

“We should get back,” Faramir said, blinking back a tear. “I will join you in the Council chamber,” he said, moving in the direction of Denethor’s study.

When Faramir arrived to the Council chamber, Aragorn announced his good news and the meeting was delayed for nearly an hour while all the lords offered their personal congratulations to the Steward. Consequently, it was getting quite late in the day when it came time for Faramir to present the report on the affairs of Ithilien. Faramir reached into his pocket and withdrew a small pebble, which he held loosely in his hand.

After some preliminary remarks about resettlement and security, Faramir turned to face Arwen and spoke his first few words as if addressing her directly. “The music of the Ainur is as fate to all things but Man, to whom is given the virtue to shape our own lives. So say the most ancient tales of Arda, given to us by our elder kin. As Men, it is given to us to make our own choices, with wisdom and reverence, to complete and fulfill the world until the end of its singing.”

Arwen’s eyes shone and Faramir turned back to face the others around the table. “With reverence, I speak today of Ithilien not just as a part of the Reunited Kingdom, but as a symbol that should be sacred to all the Men of Westernesse.” Faramir gave Aragorn a small smile. “Ithilien, land of the moon, and Anorien, land of the sun, are the twin jewels of Gondor, sundered by the evil of the shadow. Anorien’s mate is now returned to Gondor, but lies maimed by the careless use made of her by the Dark Lord. What does wisdom dictate we should do to make Ithilien a home where Men may thrive again? What choices shall we make to restore this jewel to the crown of Gondor?”

Faramir paused, sensing the mood of his peers before he continued. “Let it be known that all who claim ownership of land in Ithilien must now return, to till her soil and reap the fruit she will soon bear again. Let it also be known that those lords of Ithilien who think it wise to let others do the hard work of healing their wounded mother will find their claims to her bounty no longer honored by their sovereign Prince.” Faramir glanced at his Uncle, whose face was creased by a knowing smile.

Faramir turned to look behind him at Legolas. “Ithilien welcomes home her scattered children, but she has also been fortunate to find new friends such as Prince Legolas, who would spend his last days in Middle Earth working to see her thrive again.”

Faramir turned back and looked pointedly at Lord Bregor. “And yet such words make their way to my ear as to chill the warm welcome that the Men of Gondor should bestow upon such friends. Let us hope that the Elves do not also hear these whispers, for I would not have them turn their backs on us now that our long-forgotten friendship has at last been renewed. And we have not a moment to waste, for one day we will find ourselves alone, sundered from our Elven kin until the end of all that is. But there is yet time for the Fourth Age to bear the imprint of the wisdom of Elves. Let us not forget our brothers and sisters while they still dwell among us, for we are all children of the One.” Arwen nodded almost imperceptibly.

Faramir allowed himself to become a little more expansive, hoping his enthusiasm would be contagious. “Ithilien will not be as Neldoreth, surrounded by a girdle of protection, or Lothlórien under the guard of an Elven ring. Ithilien is protected by the good will of Men, and that aid that we would seek from our friends, the Elves.” Faramir glanced at Aragorn, whose eyes were intently upon him. “In honor of the bringer of birdsong and lover of the great trees, mother of Lúthien the fair whose bloodlines in both Men and Elves are now reunited in the royal house of Gondor,” Faramir bowed his head to Aragorn, “let all of us, Men and Elves, join in building the Garden of Melian.” Arwen’s face lit up at these words and Faramir also bowed his head to her.

“I hereby place the lands of the vale of Morgulduin and the hills at the foot of the Ephel Dúath in trust under the name of the Prince of Ithilien, to be cared for jointly by Men and Elves, so long as Elves remain in Middle Earth. May the Garden of Melian flourish as does the Kingdom.” Faramir sat back down and the silence in the wake of his words was then filled with whispers. He gripped the pebble more tightly in his hand and pressed his lips together grimly, awaiting the reaction to his words.

After a moment, Aragorn cleared his throat, an odd smile on his face. “The Prince of Ithilien has enchanted us with his wise words, and the sun is already long set. We have but one report left to hear today, from the Warden of the Land of Ithilien. Given that she is unable to attend the Council herself, she has appointed Prince Legolas of Greenwood to speak on her behalf.”

Legolas stood and put a hand on Faramir’s shoulder. “Legolas of Melian,” he said, squeezing Faramir’s shoulder, “will strive to say much in as few words as possible.”

When the Council adjourned, Arwen pulled Faramir aside and kissed him on the cheek. “The Garden of Melian, home to Elves and Men,” she said, smiling. “Very good, little brother.”

Faramir looked at her intently, trying to fathom what was behind her sparkling eyes. “The name, it is my gift to you, a token of…”

“Faramir,” Arwen interrupted, placing her hand on his arm, “somehow, all that you do is a gift to me. Even your bond with Aragorn, as disconcerting as it is to me, is a gift, do you not agree?”

“I do, not least because it has called us to see each other in a new light,” Faramir said, taking her hand in his.

Arwen’s smile broadened. “Love begets love, and that is a gift to all. Now, let us hasten to join the others before we are missed.”

That night, Faramir brought Éowyn a dark blue velvet bag and placed it in her hand. “I bought you a present.”

Éowyn looked at him skeptically. “When?”

Faramir smiled and sat down on the bed next to her. “A few days ago. I wanted to give you something, to thank you…” he blushed and wondered if she would find his gift foolish. “Open it,” he said.

She pulled the satin cord and opened the bag, gently withdrawing the silver bracelet. She held it up, uncertain what to do with it. Faramir slipped a ring over each of her middle fingers and pushed the bracelet around her wrist.

“I have never seen anything like it before,” Éowyn said.

“The silver guild master is Haradric,” Faramir explained. “It is like what their women wear.”

Éowyn held out her hand and admired the piece. “It is lovely, and very exotic.” She turned and gave Faramir a scathing look. “But there are three rings.”

“And?” Faramir asked, wondering what she saw.

“Do you not think you are a little impatient to ask for a third child so soon after I have given you the second?”

Faramir laughed and kissed Éowyn’s adorned hand. “I would advise that you put it away for a while. When I see it on you again,” he said with a sly smile, “I shall know what to do.”

---

Notes:

⁴ Le hannon, gwathel nín – thank you, my sister

A big le hannon to Oshun and Insignia for their feedback, especially on an earlier version of the last few chapters.

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