If this is victory, then our hands are too small to hold it.
--Durin's folk, to Thráin

‘Men of Arthedain! you invoked the law of Númenor on behalf of the Lord Elessar, the law which proclaimed that the eldest surviving child of the King should be his successor. He claimed the throne of Gondor as the nearest descendant of the last of Ondoher’s children, his daughter Fíriel, and as last heir of the first King, Elendil the Tall. Yet who was Elendil? By what right did he claim overlordship over all the Dúnedain of Middle-earth?--by his right as the nearest in descent from Tar-Minyatur first of all our kings, through the eldest child of Tar-Elendil the fourth King, his daughter Silmariën. Why should you reject the heir of your own lords, when even we of Gondor, who denied the claim of Fíriel, have not?’

Faramir, Lord and Steward of Gondor, had never approved of disorderliness -- and if anything in the world could be described as disorderly, it was the tattered remains of Arnor. The Dúnedain of the North had been divided, leaderless, in the five years since Aragorn’s death, and the chaos of Arthedain had long been the greatest of Faramir’s concerns. They were as slow to accept change as their brothers in Gondor, and even more conservative. Sometimes he thought they still believed Sauron was still there, somewhere, about to unleash even more horrors on their scattered forces; they certainly acted as if it were the case, rather than small marauding bands easily managed.

‘How do we know this is not simply a Gondorian coup?’ said Belegorn, a distant cousin now, and de facto leader of the most conservative element among the Arnorians.

Lothíriel smiled and said mildly, ‘Forgive me if I misremember, kinsman, but it was never Gondor who attempted to seize sovereignty over all the Dúnedain.’

Halmir, Lord of Lossarnach, had not the Princess’s patience. ‘I will not mince words,” he declared. ‘We accept the claim of the heirs of Isildur under one condition, that the Steward is and will remain a man of Gondor. Should you attempt to install an Arnorian regent along with an Arnorian monarch --’

‘That is enough, Halmir,’ Faramir’s clear voice cut through. ‘My lord Belegorn, we of Gondor and Arnor share history, blood and kinship, we share two tongues. Yet we remain divided. If I permit this unnatural estrangement to persist without action on my part, I would not deserve a moment of peace for the rest of my life, however long that may be.’ He paused only the smallest of moments, feeling the weight of a dozen searching glances, looking for any sign of age and weariness, any enchroachment of the Gift. ‘I do not imagine myself an Anducal, but you cannot expect a child of five to rule, nor expect the people of Gondor to accept both a monarch and regent from without.’

Later that evening, he walked into the Steward’s chambers. His wife laughed merrily when she saw him. She was a woman who laughed a great deal; her birth name, Lalaith*, was more apt than the mother who had chosen it ever guessed.

‘My love, you are almost the same colour as your eyes. Have you forgotten to eat again?’

‘Of course I ate,” said Faramir, ‘I would not dare brave your wrath otherwise; no, I have been talking to Belegorn.’

‘Oh,’ she said, and walked over to rest her hand on his shoulders. ‘That certainly explains it.’

After this day, every inch of his six and a half foot frame ached. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, a gentle lassitude radiating out from where her fingers firmly kneaded the muscles.

There was a pause. ‘And -- what was decided?’

He clasped the hand on his shoulder, and sighed, leaning his head against her. ‘You were right to change your name, Lalwen*.’

---

*Linguistic note -- the Stewards before Mardil had Quenya names, those after (the Ruling Stewards) had Sindarin ones, until Faramir; the Kings of Arnor did the same when they became Kings only of Arthedain. Lalaith is Sindarin, Lalwen is Quenya.