Faramir Fiction Archive

Winter's Rest (R)

Written by Monica

09 March 2005 | 25774 words

Chapter Two

Rivendell was merry that night as the Elves and their guests enjoyed the autumn colors and feasting. The musicians began playing even before dinner was finished and everyone chose to forgo dessert and instead go to the Hall of Fire to enjoy the singing and dancing.

During dinner, Elrond continued his study of his new patient. He did not approve of how little Faramir ate, but said nothing, knowing that it was too early to begin imposing his healer's directions on his guest. He wanted Faramir to relax after his journey and enjoy a sample of Rivendell's hospitality. Hopefully, the Steward would be content in his time spent with the Elves. In his letter, Aragorn mentioned that Faramir spoke some Elvish, and Elrond reminded himself to arrange for a tutor for the young Steward. It would give him something productive to occupy his mind with while his body rested.

Elrond also noticed others things about his patient, chief of which was Faramir's beauty. The Elf Lord recalled thinking at the coronation that the new Steward was handsome, but now he had to firmly revise that opinion. Faramir was beautiful, his gentle soul adding softness to his perfect features. In the light from the fires, his hair took on a golden shine that drew one's attention, and his eyes were bright with interest as he watched the singers and dancers. His neatly trimmed beard added to his charm, making him stand out from the Elves.

The Lord of Rivendell realized that a number of Elves were giving the mortal long, lingering looks, and guessed that he was not alone in admiring the Human. Faramir had a certain air and grace about him that the Elves noticed and appreciated. He was beautiful and unattached; if he wished, there would likely be a number of suitors vying for his private time this winter.

"You rooms are satisfactory?" Erestor asked. The advisor was sitting to Elrond's left at the table, and he too had taken a liking to the young Man. Erestor had been one of the many Elves looking at the Steward with interest, and Elrond found himself unsure how he felt about this. He did not desire Erestor as a lover, so why was he feeling rather uneasy all of a sudden?

"They are wonderful," Faramir said truthfully. The suite of rooms was comfortable and there was something familiar about them. A servant had mentioned that the rooms were in the family area of the home, and Faramir was surprised at being placed there. He ventured to say so to the Elf Lords and saw them smile.

"They are Estel's rooms," Elrond explained. "He specifically directed that you stay there."

Dark eyebrows rose in surprise and Faramir took a nervous sip of wine. "I hardly expected that, my Lord," he said shyly. Now that he knew who the rooms belonged to, he could indeed see some signs of Aragorn in the books that the king so loved to have about. Faramir had already spied several books that he longed to read.

"You are to make yourself at home, both in those rooms and in the entire house," Elrond said firmly. "Tomorrow someone will show you the libraries and studies. They will welcome having another scholar in them, and there are many maps that I think should be copied this winter and sent back to Gondor to supplement the libraries there; I would ask your advice in what to send first."

Faramir's eyes lit up at the suggestion and he happily promised to help however he could. Elrond exchanged a smile with Erestor, and knew that they had found at least one way to channel the young man's restless energy into a safe pursuit that would keep him from dwelling on the war and his battles.

Elrond mentally reviewed the preparations that had been made to Estel's rooms to receive their new occupant. The softest mattress and warmest blankets that Rivendell had to offer had been installed in Faramir's room and the last of the season's flowers had been carefully dried to preserve their sweet smell through the winter. Arwen sent a list of books that she thought Faramir might like, and they were brought from the main library for the young Steward. Elrond hoped that Faramir would be happy in his new surroundings.

Faramir was obviously taken with the Elvish entertainment, but his eyes were growing more weary and Elrond decided to retire early for the evening, confident that Faramir would be courteously follow his lead. He was correct, as the young Man stood when he did and politely said that he too, would retire. They left the Hall and made their way to the family wing of the house.

Elrond paused outside the door to Faramir's room; his own room was just down a hall. "I am most pleased to have you here," he said, willing the young man to believe him. "I look forward to our time together."

"As do I, my Lord," Faramir answered politely. He was suddenly very tired, feeling that the journey had caught up with him. He was looking forward to sleeping in a bed again.

"Then I bid you good night," Elrond smiled. "Erestor will no doubt come to see you in the morning and ensure that the rooms are to your liking; he takes pride in knowing everything about the Last Homely House. I hope to see you at breakfast."

"Of course," Faramir said quietly, bowing before his host. He guessed that Elrond was waiting for him to enter his rooms and he did so.

Elrond waited for a few minutes outside the door, then sighed and returned to his study. The fire had died down a bit, casting shadows on the walls. In one of the side chairs was a pensive figure waiting for Elrond. The healer saw him as he entered and he shook his head, knowing the question that was about to be asked.

"We must wait a time," he said firmly. "He is not ready for such news at present. I would like to give him a week, perhaps two, to rest and begin to regain some of the weight he lost and his strength."

The visitor briefly closed his eyes, but nodded in agreement. "I watched him from the Hall while you ate. He does not look well."

"Faramir had a long journey, and he believes that he has somehow failed Aragorn and others by being sent here," Elrond said regretfully. "Things will look better for him when he has had some time to rest."

"I will leave then for a time. Thank you for what you are doing, my friend." The visitor rose and quietly left the room.

Elrond sat down in his chair and starred into the flames of the fire, lost in thought. What was it about this young mortal that was drawing more than his professional attention? He thought about the visitor that had left and shook his head. Things were far too complicated and Faramir would need all his strength in the time to come.

---

The cheerful sounds of birds having their early breakfast greeted Faramir when he awoke the next morning. He lay in the soft bed for a time, groggily reflecting that he had slept very deeply the night before. Looking about the room and seeing things laid out for a morning bath, he realized that a servant had been there and he had not even awoken. A bit surprised at this, he left the bed and pulled on the warm robe that had been laid out for him.

The bath was a delight and he thoroughly enjoyed the unusual luxury of not having to rush to Council meetings, or sessions with the soldiers. And the bath in this room was far larger than his at Gondor, almost as large as the suite now used by the king. His clothes had been unpacked while he was dinning the night before and were hanging in neat rows in the closets. He dressed in a rich green tunic that had been a gift from Arwen and had mysteriously found its way into his belongings that were packed for his stay in Rivendell. Arwen had embroidered the white tree symbol of Gondor on the collar and sleeves herself, and looking through the closets, he saw a number of new outfits that bore her work. He had just returned to the main room when there was a polite knock on the door.

"Enter," he called, and he was not surprised to see that Erestor was in fact making his first visit. He bowed to the Elf Lord, feeling uncomfortably flatted that Lord Elrond was seeing to his comfort by sending his own personal advisor. Surely he did not merit such attention.

"Good morning," Erestor smiled at the Human, seeing his faint blush. He had been told the story of what Faramir had endured before and during the War and he had a deep respect for the young man. A powerful and brave soul obviously resided in that quite body. Erestor had not met many Men before, and he was looking forward to knowing this young one better. "I hope you slept well last night?"

"I did indeed, Lord Erestor," Faramir assured him.

"Esestor is fine to call me," the Elf smiled. "And may I take the liberty of calling you by your name? You remind me much of Estel, and he never did take well to formality; neither does Elrond."

Faramir smiled in return. "The king still does not often stand on formality," he said ruefully. He was at times quite unsure how to act around the king and queen. Denethor had always demanded the strictest of protocol from his younger son, and Faramir had no idea how to behave otherwise. It was rather unnerving for him to deal with a king who insisted he be addressed by his first name most of the time.

"That is good to hear, for no one here insists on formality," Erestor assured him. He was pleased to see Faramir's blush recede, and took that as a hopeful sign that the young Human would soon relax in the Last Homely House. Everyone was determined to do their best to help heal the Man and Erestor knew that Estel and Arwen were entrusting them with someone very dear to their hearts.

Faramir followed Erestor down to the hall where breakfast was being served, and found Lord Elrond already present. After a few morning pleasantries, the healer encouraged Faramir to fill his plate and take a seat at the table.

Elrond studied his patient again, and was pleased to see that Faramir looked a bit better after his long rest. He'd had mixed feelings about secretly administering a sleeping draught to Faramir's wine the night before, but had justified it in that no healing could begin until the young man was rested. Seeing his eyes look brighter, Elrond knew that he had made the right decision. He would continue to secretly give Faramir a sedative as long as he felt it was necessary.

The Steward did seem far more relaxed this morning, and he seemed to enjoy the relaxed chatter of the household assembled for breakfast. Glorfindel was present, and Elrond knew that the Barlog slayer would find a willing audience in the young Human for his tales. He made a mental note to remind Glorfindel, however, that Faramir was here to rest and he hoped that Faramir would not be tempted to ride out hunting with the warriors.

Faramir inquired about his Rangers who had accompanied him and Glorfindel and Elrond took him out the warrior barracks where his men had been made welcome among the Elves. There was already some friendly jousting planned as the Elves were eager to try their skills against the Rangers, and vice versa. The five soldiers had quickly settled happily among their fellow warriors, and they were glad to see their Captain. Elrond noticed that all of them were older than Faramir, and although they were completely proper and respectful, there was an air familiarity as they talked to the Steward. Aragorn had been careful to pick only those he was assured who were most loyal to Faramir, and Elrond knew they had careful orders to make sure that Faramir recovered this winter.

His thought was confirmed when the oldest of the Rangers, Damrod, practically shooed the young man back to the main house. "We are fine as can be, Captain," he said a bit gruffly as he firmly escorted Faramir to the door of the barracks. "Stop worrying about the likes of us. Now get yourself back inside and get to following the king's orders; he'll have my hide if you take sick again." The Ranger fixed his gaze firmly on the Elf Lord. "I'm certain that Master Elrond knows what's best for you." Elrond understood the Man's unspoken words, and bowed slightly to the wise Human. Damrod had indicated that he trusted the Elf with his captain, but only if he felt that Faramir were being taken care of properly. Elrond had no intention of causing the old Ranger any doubt.

Faramir seemed a bit subdued as they returned to the main house and Elrond raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Your men care for you a great deal," he said, hoping to draw Faramir out of his quiet musings.

"And I for them," Faramir answered. He managed a small smile. "The king ensured that the most persistent of my would-be nannies accompanied me. They should be back in Gondor helping with the reconstruction instead of here with me."

Elrond guided Faramir into his study and gestured for the young man to take seat by the windows. "Why do you think that you are not worthy of their attention?" he asked directly.

Blue eyes seemed startled for a moment, - and then Faramir resumed his usual calm mask. "Because I am not," he said, his tone flat.

"Why?" Elrond persisted. He would not allow a change of topic until he was satisfied.

"They should be at home," Faramir repeated. "But they were kind enough to agree to baby-sit me." He looked apologetically at the Elf. "I mean no disrespect, Lord Elrond, but surly you all have better things to do than look after me."

One dark eyebrow rose as Elrond took a chair beside Faramir. This young one was going to be a challenge, indeed, he mussed. "Your men are very loyal to you, and they willing accompanied you here in hopes that you would find healing. You are usually quite observant, Faramir, except in matters where you are concerned. Estel, Arwen, and your Rangers care very much for you. Why is that so difficult to accept?"

Damn the persistent Elf, Faramir thought darkly as he accepted a cup of tea. "I am.was." he hesitated and shook his head. "I am just the second son; I never expected to be anything other than a Ranger, and certainly not the Steward."

Elrond nodded in understanding. He knew that Faramir had loved his brother deeply and the feelings had been returned. "Boromir was a good man, and if you wish, I would be glad to share with you tales of when he was here. He impressed many in Imladris during his stay." He smiled in a conspiracy manner. "He and Glorfindel jousted several times, and I suspect from Glorfindel's mood that he was defeated at least once by your brother." Faramir smiled and it lit up his face again.

"But," Elrond continued, "you are also a great man, my young prince, and it is time you begin to realize that. You have pushed yourself too hard while still recovering from your wounds in the War. For the good of your people, you must heal. You will not be able to help anyone if you continued to be ill."

Faramir looked faintly guilty at that observation, and Elrond knew he had found a key to getting Faramir to accept his healing. Faramir would do anything to help the king and the people of Gondor, even if it meant submitting to a healer. This tactic would work for now, but Elrond knew he had to eventually convince Faramir of his own worth.

Elrond suspected that much of Faramir's insecurity lay with Denethor, but he knew it was far too soon to broach that subject. The Elf truly had no desire to raise his name until it was necessary; he had never liked any of what he had heard of the late Steward. His opinion had moved even lower after learning about Denethor's final madness.

Faramir's words about his role in life concerned the Elf. The race of Men seldom allowed their children freedom to choose their own path. Elrond was a healer of great renown, but he had never blindly expected his sons to share his devotion to the healing arts. They were free to do as they chose.

Faramir would not have chosen to be a warrior, Elrond thought. He had become one only because of Gondor's need and the fact that he was a son of the Steward who expected his son to be mighty in battle. In one respect, they shared that in common; Elrond had had no love of being a warrior. His sword was needed in the time of war, but his healing abilities were more valuable than his fighting skills. Faramir could be the greatest healer in Middle Earth, and his father would not have allowed him to do anything other than fight.

They were both reluctant warriors, the Elf decided. Faramir's heart and soul belonged to a scholar. He was an accomplished Captain and his men were devoted to him, but his heart was not that of a fighter. Perhaps the men in his command sensed that, Elrond mused. They were protective of him and loyal because of his undisputed bravery and his determination to master the skills of war. He had mastered them, and become a warrior of undisputed skills, but it was not his destiny in life.

Elrond had put away his weapons after the Battle of the Last Alliance. Perhaps Faramir would be able to do the same now. It was time he was allowed to become who he wanted to be.

"Winter is a time for many things to heal," Elrond said aloud. "I am pleased to have you here, and I hope that in time I will win your confidence." The guilty look increased on the Human's face and Elrond smiled again. "That is a matter I may obtain only in due course. For now, will you accept my friendship and hospitality this winter?"

A slight smile graced the thin lines of Faramir's face. "I think I would like that, my Lord," he said softly. "Matters were.difficult. at times in Gondor." Elrond knew that Faramir referred to the memories of the War, and even older memories of a harsh parent.

"Then let us begin," Elrond said. "My daughter and foster son sent you here for rest and I am pleased to be your healer. But for me to carry out my duties as such, I should examine you."

He saw Faramir stiffen at the words. "That is hardly necessary, my Lord," the Man protested.

Elrond shook his head, his dark hair moving slightly on his shoulders. "It must be done," he said mildly. "I would be amiss in my duties as you healer if I do not. Will you trust me in this?"

There was a long pause, and Elrond knew that Faramir was evaluating him in some manner. He could only look at the suddenly hooded light eyes, and hope that he passed the test. A long pause, then Faramir nodded ever so slightly.

Elrond silently released a breath that he was not even aware that he had been holding. It mattered to him very much that Faramir trusted him, even beyond his healer's role. He wanted Faramir to trust him in every way. It was a puzzle why, but his heart knew it was true.

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