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Faramir swung wide the heavy doors with his own hands and preceded Aragorn into the vast room. There before them was the Steward’s Seat, and above it, the throne of the king.
“It has waited a thousand years for you, my liege,” Faramir said. “It has been tended well, and only one person has sat upon it to my knowledge.” He smiled slightly. “I do believe my father allowed Peregrin that honor; I am certain that it was amusing to Father, and Peregrin would have been of course unaware of the dozen or so laws he was breaking.”
“My young knight will not receive punishment from my hand,” Aragorn assured him. He walked forward, and touched the massive chair. “I deem that this seat would fit all four hobbits.” He smiled. “Perhaps I will let the People see them thus; I wish to do them every honor.”
“Then a new Age will truly have begun,” Faramir laughed. His heart felt light. “I will leave you for a time. Call if you have need of me.” He bowed deeply, then gazed with respect and love into the eyes of his king. “And may I be the first to say... welcome home.”
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