An Unlikely Heritage

The odd sensation wasn’t completely foreign to Faramir Took, he had felt it before. There had been other times, times when his father caught and held his gaze. The world seemed to . . . not quite fade, but to look as though he was underwater with his eyes opened. Faramir’s ears felt that way too, as though sounds around him were suddenly muffled; except for his father’s voice.

“You want asparagus for luncheon today.”

That was what he heard his father’s voice say and suddenly that sounded wonderful to Faramir, despite the fact that asparagus was one of the few things he would not eat.

“I think I . . . I . . . want . . .” Something in the lad halted his words. This wasn’t right. His mind was slowly shifting away from the strange pull it was feeling to agree with his father, but the gentle urging was strong. “I . . . want . . .”

Then it was gone.

His father had closed his eyes and the feeling faded from Faramir’s head.

“Now you know what you do to your sister.” Pippin said softly. Faramir opened his mouth to deny it but his father continued. “No use in saying you haven’t, Son. I know better. I’ve stood by and watched you do it.”

Faramir blinked a few times as his chin dropped towards his chest. He had indeed performed his trick on his sister, and on Theodoc and a few other cousins as well. It had been a curiosity to himself the first couple of times it had happened, but later it was great fun to have the others say or do things he told them to do. He had even managed to avoid or lessen a few punishments that his mother would have dealt him, but not often nor lately as he had begun to feel it was disrespectful to do to his Mum. It had never worked on his Da. Just now, it hadn’t been pleasant nor fun having it done to him.

“Why didn’t Beryl just do it to me sometime?” the lad, his head still lowered, softly asked his father. “Why didn’t Theo?”

“Because they can’t. They haven’t the Faerie blood in them.”

Faramir’s head jerked up so fast his neck popped, his eyes were wide, his mouth hung open.

“ ‘Don’t look a Faerie in the eyes, You know not what you’ll see’,” Pippin quoted, holding up the battered copy of “How Faeries Behave”, waggling it back and forth as he did so. “That’s nearly the only bit of truth in this mess of superstitious nonsense. The ‘we’ll see no more of thee’ being the other as a good many of those whom the Faeries led away either didn’t return or returned besotted with the wonders they had seen.”

Faramir had thought his head felt oddly before. It was in total upheaval now. The taunts of his cousins and friends were dancing about with lines from the poem, weaving in and out with his Da’s voice saying, “They haven’t the Faerie blood in them.”

Faerie blood?

Pippin watched his son intently. He could nearly see the thoughts rushing about in the lad’s mind. Faramir began thinking aloud.

“ ‘They haven’t the Faerie blood in them.’ Father just said that. But, said that way it makes it sound as though there are some as do have Faerie blood in them. And Da said that because I asked why Beryl has never done my trick back on me, nor has Theo, nor the cousins here at the Hall who were teasing me. But they were teasing me that Tooks have Faerie blood in them. If Da says that ‘They haven’t the Faerie blood in them.’ as though there are those who do have it then they were right. They were right! Then Tooks are terrible, awful, danger . . .”

“Stop, Faramir!” Pippin gently moved his son off of his lap. He sat the lad on the floor in front of the open wardrobe then took hold of him by the shoulders, the book that started all this still in his hand. He looked squarely into Faramir’s teary green eyes, but this time no stars danced and the feel of the world about him didn’t change to the lad. He only saw his father’s kind but worried green eyes. “You were doing well, fine logic, till right there at that last. Tooks are not ‘terrible, awful, dangerous’ beings any more than Faeries are. They aren’t and we aren’t.” Pippin paused and his head tipped slightly to one side. “Well, most of them aren’t and most of us aren’t, there have been a few . . .”

The room was quiet a moment as Pippin remembered some of his Took family history, including Lalia the Fat . . . eh, Great. No, all Tooks weren’t the best of hobbits. He shook himself a bit to chase off the thoughts and come back to the matter at hand. Like his son’s, Pippin’s mind easily flitted off its topic. He shook the book again.

“As I also said, most of this poem is nonsense. Lies. Superstition. Gobblety Gook.”

Faramir blinked. “I’ve . . . I’ve got . . . Faerie blood?”

“Yes,” His Da said softly as he set the book down. “That part of things is true as well. A long time ago, I’m not even sure how long but it was a long time ago, a hobbit lad married a faerie lass.”

“But if it was that long ago, Da, how can it . . . I mean, why do I . . .”

“How is it that there is still enough of her blood in us to cause some of us to be a bit faerie-ish?”

“Yes.”

Pippin’s eyes held a soft and distant look, his voice was nearly a whisper. “It was her gift to us. It was allowed that some of her descendants would carry her traits.”

“Allowed? By whom, Da?”

“She did not say. Only that there would be some of us in every generation of Tooks, born to the name of Took, not those who are Took by marriage nor those of a different clan or family but with Took blood in them. It is only for some of us that are born to her family. We would have her knowing of things. We would have her eyes.”

“ ‘She did not say?’” Faramir’s voice was an astonished whisper, stars began twinkling in his eyes. “You . . . you make it sound like you’ve talked to her, Da. That’s . . . impossible.”

The scent of autumn began to tickle the hobbit’s noses.

“Like Elf-kind.” the elder Took muttered. “They are like the Elves. They don’t die. Faeries don’t die. She gifted us. Blessed us. Secret. It’s a secret. The others . . .”

The small bedroom in Brandy Hall slowly faded into woods in the waning of the year. A voice, like flutes or small chimes, spoke.

“The others do not understand, my Tookling Jewel, but my children do if they seek the knowledge.”

Green fireworks filled in her eyes. Breezes blew through her golden-red hair and stirred the leaves at her feet. Cullassisul’s smile brought his own smile to Faramir’s face.

“Come, child of my child, and know who you are.”