Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I’ll put them back safely when I’m done.

Author’s Note: This is just a little more solemn then the others, but it fit. Enjoy!

Queen Arwen’s Gift

    Arwen, Queen of Gondor and Arnor, was sitting in her bright little parlor, sketching, when she heard a tiny knock at the door. She looked up, curious, for the knock had sounded as though the knocker was rather shy.

  “Come in,” she called, and the door opened.

  Faramir Took stood there, looking in at her shyly. Arwen smiled and beckoned him to come in. Merry and Pippin, and their families, had arrived in Minas Tirith just two days before, and she had not yet had time to become acquainted with Pippin’s young son. The lad looked much like his father, with his curly blond-brown hair and green eyes. He was holding a small, wrapped package tightly.

   “Hullo, Faramir,” Arwen said. “What are you up to this afternoon?”

   Faramir bowed shyly and held out the small package. “I brought you a present from the Shire. It’s not very good, or anything, but I didn’t think you had one, and thought that you might like it.”

   Arwen took the package and unwrapped it. Inside a wooden box was a small flute, unlike any that Arwen had seen before. It was made of smooth silver, and was highly polished, with a tiny design of stars around it.

   “It’s a whistle,” Faramir explained. “Frodo Gamgee made it, but it was my idea. I thought that you might like to have a hobbit instrument.”

  Arwen grinned at the little hobbit and reached out to hug him. “Thank you, Faramir! I love it. Would you like to stay for a bit?”

  Faramir nodded, beaming. “Do you knit? I can hold the yarn for you, like I do for my mamma.”

  Arwen handed him a box of drawing pencils. “I’m sketching, so you can hold these for me. Here, have a seat on that cushion.”

  Faramir never forgot that day in Arwen’s parlor. He had been very shy of Arwen, because she was so tall, and so beautiful. Still, he felt that she was a very kind lady. He knew with the simple intuition of a child that she was someone he could confide in.

   “Queen Arwen? Can I ask you a question?”

   “Certainly, Faramir. What is it?” Arwen asked.

   Faramir toyed with one of the pencils, gazing at his hands. “What should I do about bad dreams? I have them a lot, and they scare me, and I didn’t think that Elves have bad dreams, so I thought I’d ask you…” he trailed off, realizing that he was rambling.

   Arwen set down her drawing and regarded the hobbit thoughtfully. Now that she looked, she could sense the fear in him, the fear of the dark that lurked under the naturally sunny surface. He was a happy lad, she could tell that, but he was subject to night terrors. Arwen reached out her hands to him.

    “Do you know the star of Earendil, Faramir?” Arwen asked.

    Faramir nodded. “Yes, I can see it from my window at home.”

    Arwen nodded back. “That’s my grandfather, Faramir, whom I never met. He was put in the heavens by the Valar to be a guiding light to all of us. They say that he often casts down a rain of star-crystals, to those that he loves.”

   Faramir stared at her as she stood and crossed the parlor to a cabinet by the fireplace. Arwen reached into it and pulled out a small grey box, one with a star engraved on the lid. She opened this, and withdrew a small rock on a silver chain.

   “I have gathered many such star crystals, Faramir, and made them into necklaces. Anyone who wears them cannot be subjected to petty fears, such as bad dreams. Here, take this,” Arwen said, and knelt and set the necklace around the hobbits neck.

    Faramir raised the necklace and looked at the star-crystal. It was a small, round crystal set in a silver holder. He looked back up at Arwen.

   “Shouldn’t Eldarion have this, your highness?” he asked. “I mean, I love this, but really, one of your children should have it.”

   Arwen grinned at him. “Eldarion has one of his own, Faramir. This is for you.”

   Faramir looked back at his crystal. Suddenly, he felt much more brave about the approaching bedtime. He looked back up at Arwen and suddenly threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Thank you.”

   Arwen hugged him back. “You’re quite welcome, Faramir.”

   “May I go show my mamma, Queen Arwen? I think that she would like this.”

   Arwen nodded, and smiled as the hobbit skipped from the room, waving a cheery good bye over his shoulder. Let the others bewail the exuberance of hobbits, she thought. I think they are quite charming.