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A Literary Friendship  by songspinner

A Literary Friendship

By Songspinner

***

A small hand suddenly closed the book Faramir was reading, and he just managed to get the bookmark in place. Glancing, startled, down over the leather cover, he saw a rather tiny maiden with unmistakable hobbit features. Mind searching, he wasn’t sure for a moment, and then he took in the golden hair that he would recognize anywhere. “Elanor?”

A sweet answering smile confirmed what he’d thought. “My lord Faramir. My, it has been quite a while since we’ve met here.” The hobbit maiden bobbed a curtsey, and nodded toward the book now on the table. There was a wobbly pile of volumes next to it that threatened to topple at the slightest provocation. “But some things have not changed a great deal.”

Faramir laughed merrily. “Nay, they have not, Elanor. I still find myself lost in books far past a proper time for meals. And I assume that our lovely Queen sent you to find me? I heard that you were arriving to be her handmaiden.”

“Aye, my lord. She asked for me.”

“Please call me Faramir, as you used to. The Queen made up her mind long ago to do that, I think. And Sam let you go, then?”

With a giggle, Elanor managed to perch on a low bench next to the table. “Sam-dad wasn’t too keen on the idea, but Uncle Pippin did a lot of arguing him into letting me, and so did Mama.”

Rolling his eyes, the Steward shook his head fondly. “Well, Peregrin Took can talk most of us into just about anything, as your family well knows.” He stood and walked to the window. “I wish he could have come this time, but I know the Shire keeps him rather busy for such a long journey. I am sorry, though, that I wasn’t there at the gates to greet you.” He fell silent for a long moment, gazing at her. “You’ve grown so, Elanor.”

Blushing a bit, she glanced down at her furry feet. “Still hobbit-sized, however. But I missed Minas Tirith, even if I love the Shire. I missed you and the King and Queen, everyone else. There must be some Took hidden in our family tree because I have that same yearning sometimes…the one that Uncle Frodo had. To go wander far from home.”

Elanor rose with a rustle of skirts and walked over to the window ledge. “My sisters and brothers hear me say things about my dreams, the ones I used to have even when I was practically still a faunt…and they just say ‘Sometimes you say the oddest things, Ellie’. Hobbits aren’t likely to understand such things, Faramir.”

“Well, perhaps, Elanor,” Faramir said softly, “But some of us will ever be set apart by our dreams.”

Elanor cocked her head to the side and looked up at him, her golden curls framing her face. “I remember the first time I met you…it was in here. I came in here to hide from Uncle Gimli in a game of hide-and-go-seek.”

“Ah, yes. And you were so small then that you managed to hide under my chair before you realized that I was sitting on it.” With a sigh, Faramir sat down on the bench beside her. “You were quite silent until that storm set the winds howling outside the tower.”

“I still don’t like storms, actually.” Elanor admitted. “And this place is fairly well high up in the air compared to a good, solid smial.” She slid one hand into his larger one. “You picked me up and walked around this library, showing me the books and things until I felt safe again. I can still remember you telling me tales about you and your brother. It seemed odd to me that men and their brothers were no different than young hobbits.”

“Certainly in behavior…” Faramir agreed with his young friend, and brushed dark hair away from his eyes. “Perhaps that is why he understood Merry and Pippin so well. I think I can even remember the tales I told. Stories about visiting uncle Imrahil and his family at Dol Amroth.”

“I was ever begging you for tales of the sea, was I not?” The hobbit lass sighed. “I was thrilled to find someone here who loved books as much as I. And you told me of how you’d gathered sand from the shore and put it in that glass bottle up there on the shelf, so you’d remember it every time you saw it.”

Gazing across the room at the muted glitter on the shelf, Faramir nodded. “So I did, and so I do. There are many memories in this library, and I suppose it’s why I still come here.”

“I assumed that,” Elanor mentioned with a grin. “And that’s why I guessed you’d still come here when you didn’t want to be around the Court. Are all the books still here?”

Chuckling at the look of undisguised bliss on her upturned face, Faramir answered her with delight. “Yes. This place is my own, and the King seems to have instructed that it should be left as such. And I seem to remember that some of these books gave you nightmares. Your mother felt angry enough to lecture the Steward of Gondor one day after you looked at a book full of pictures of the War, of Uruk-Hai…a particularly well-drawn illustration, I believe.”

“It was a story about heroes, thank you very much! There was just the one tale of a hero fighting one of those Orcs, and it just gave me nightmares that night.” The young hobbit protested, but not very seriously. “And I think Mama even scolded the King once.”

“Now that,” Faramir admitted, “would not surprise me in the least. Elanor, is there anything you would like to borrow while you are here? I know that most do not come up here, knowing it to be my little sanctuary, but I would love to share it with someone of like mind.”

“Oh!” Elanor’s blue eyes widened with happiness. “Thank you! I should like that very much. I learnt some Elvish from Legolas when he visited, but there aren’t any books in his tongue in the Shire except for one or two that belonged to Uncle Frodo.”

At the wistful shadow on such a sweet face, Faramir sighed. “ I miss him, too. He came here once or twice, you know, when he stayed here.”

“I had a dream about him once…Frodo, that is.” Elanor murmured softly. “He was sitting in a sunbeam, under a great oak tree, and he was reading a book. I knew it was Frodo, and not just from what Sam-dad tells me of him. He had such a look of peace just then, reading something.”

Tugging his young friend close to his side, Faramir smiled. “That does sound very much like Frodo. I’m glad it was that sort of dream, then. And I know he’d be proud that you’re here in Gondor. Handmaiden to the queen, no less…”

“There’s an awful lot to learn, Faramir.” Elanor said with a tone of despair. “Do you really think I can be what the Queen wishes me to be? How can I help such a lady?”

“Being yourself, dear one.” Faramir answered her. “She’s surrounded by flattery and courtiers all the long days, and you’ll be a breath of fresh air. Hobbits are not the usual, and she and I, as well as many others, will cherish having you here.” Rising from the bench, he gently pulled her to her feet. “I believe that we should search for a particular book and then shall I escort the newest of the Queen’s handmaidens to the gardens? Her majesty is usually there this time of day. I seem to recall that she has a love of Elvish verse, and few here can read such things.”

“Oh, do you think so? May I borrow something?”

“Certainly, Elanor. I think…” He wandered over to a well-laden bookcase and pulled down a slim volume. “This one should do quite nicely.” Faramir handed the young hobbit the book, and watched her hug it carefully to herself. “Don’t worry…you can come back in here any time you wish.”

“Thank you again, my lord…I mean, Faramir. I do think I shall like it here.” And for a few moments, only the side of softly turned pages filled the sunlit tower.





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