Sam was tending to large cauldrons outside the Halflings’ pavilion when they arrived. Nearby, two soldiers were preparing roasted meats following Sam’s instructions.
“How good to see you again, Sam,” Faramir said as he approached the busy cook.
Sam looked up and a bright smile lit up his face. “Captain Faramir!” He ran to Faramir and hugged him. “We do meet again, will wonder never cease?”
“I feel the same way, Sam.” He knelt and returned the embrace. “Wonder upon wonder.”
Sam turned to greet Aragorn and Éowyn. “You must be Lady Éowyn of Rohan. Samwise Gamgee at your service, lady.”
Éowyn gave him a courtesy, which made him blush. “Aye, Master Samwise, Éowyn daughter of Éomund I am, who is honoured to meet you.”
At that moment the pavilion flap opened and Pippin appeared in his livery of the Tower Guard.
“Lord Faramir!” he cried, rushing forward to give him a fierce embrace. “Finally I get to see you again! And on your feet and with a lady! When Merry told me you were wooing, I told him it could not be, you almost died and in mourning and must be busy preparing the City for another siege. But it seems you are even more capable than I thought!”
Faramir laughed and knelt to embrace Pippin. “It is good to see you again, Pippin, and unquenchable as ever. I heard of your deeds in the battle; you have done Gondor proud.”
Pippin turned to Éowyn and bowed. “Peregrin Took at your service, fair Lady Éowyn. Merry is right, you are very beautiful!”
Éowyn laughed in delight.
“O!” Pippin jumped. “Where are my manners!” Then he bowed low to Faramir. “My Lord Steward, pardon me. In my joy of seeing you, I forgot the proper manner to address my lord.”
Taken aback, Faramir said, “You indeed forget your manners, guard of Gondor. For our lord is here and you instead bowed to me.” He glanced at Aragorn uncomfortably.
Pippin stared at him, his mouth opened in surprise. Then he looked worriedly at Aragorn.
But Aragorn smiled and pat Pippin’s back. “Old Strider I am to them.” His eyes met Faramir’s. Worry not, I am not that kind of man. He placed his hand on Faramir’s back and led them to one of the long tables set between the pavilions.
“Sit where you wish, there is no arranged seating,” Aragorn said. He himself took a seat near the centre of the table. Pippin promptly sat next to him, and gestured for Faramir to sit at his other side. Éowyn took the seat across Faramir.
Lights were hung on poles set up around the tables. Wine, fruits, cheese and dried meats were already placed at the tables. Sweet aromas wafted from Sam’s cauldrons and roasted meats. Faramir could hear the sound of viols, lutes, harps and singing voices from somewhere in the encampment.
Not long after, Mithrandir arrived with Frodo and Merry. Frodo was smiling but he looked pale. Faramir went to him and gave him a deep bow. “Beyond hope we meet again, Frodo.” They embraced and both wept.
Frodo and Mithrandir sat at the centre of the table, next to Aragorn, while Merry sat next to Éowyn. He grinned widely at Faramir. “You two surpassed my expectation! I did not think you two would have managed without me prodding you along. But really, kissing in full view of the City? Even I could not have arranged that.”
Mithrandir chuckled. “Did I not say, Faramir, you were needed for other things than war?”
Éowyn’s cheeks turned red as she smiled happily. Faramir thought she looked so beautiful and he wished he could kiss her then and there.
Then people started to arrive in throngs, as it was past the twelfth hour and supper would start soon. Legolas and Gimli came, and to Faramir’s joy, they sat next to him.
Éomer arrived with Éothain and some riders of Rohan. They sat next to Éowyn and Merry. Éomer kissed his sister’s cheeks, nodded at Faramir and grinned. He looked mighty pleased that Faramir did not sit next to Éowyn.
The sons of Elrond and the Dúnedain of the North came next, and Aragorn introduced Faramir to them.
Imrahil came with his lady, sons and daughter, followed by Angbor of Lamedon with his lady and sons.
Faramir noticed that the lords and ladies of Gondor seemed rather unsure when they saw him and Aragorn together. He could imagine their consternation. Whom should they bow to first? They had addressed Aragorn as King in the encampment, but was it wise to do so in Faramir’s presence, before the crowning?
“Pippin,” he whispered, “I have a task for you. Stand at the end of the table and advise the incoming people that they bow to the King first.”
Finally everyone was seated and they began the meal. Sam’s cooking was indeed remarkable. “Sam is a good cook even for Hobbits’ standard,” Pippin chirped. It was the sort of cooking which made people think fondly of hearth and home and family, Faramir thought. His eyes caught Éowyn’s and for some moment they looked and smiled at each other, thinking of the home that they will build together.
A pleasant voice, almost melodious, pulled him out of his thoughts. “Lord Faramir,” said the fair Elf next to him, “I have had the pleasure of staying in Ithilien for few weeks, and I have felt completely at home there. It preserves its wholesome air, even though it was so close to the Enemy’s claws.”
Faramir’s heart swelled with pride and joy. “We Men are moved by Ithilien’s beauty, Lord Legolas,” he replied, “but I am heartened to know that even one of the Elder race enjoys his stay in Ithilien.”
“The land and the climate seem suitable for vineyards, have you ever considered that? And we can create a garden there, one that many people would come to see and enjoy.”
Faramir looked at him with polite curiosity. “Aye, Ithilien should once again be the garden of Gondor. But you said we, Lord Legolas. Are you implying that you wish to take part in that labour?”
Legolas sipped his wine. “If I and some of my people wish to dwell in Ithilien, would you mind that, Lord Faramir?”
Elves, dwelling in Ithilien! Even in his wildest dream, Faramir had never imagined that. Would wonder never cease?
“Would I mind? Could anything be more wonderful than having Elves dwell side by side with Men again?”
Then his thoughts returned to the present, to the momentous occasion they were going to celebrate tomorrow.
“You are very considerate to speak to me about Ithilien, lord. But surely it is the King’s consent you should seek, not mine?”
Legolas inclined his head. “But Aragorn told me you are the one I should speak to about Ithilien. And, may we call each other by name?”
Faramir wondered if Legolas had misunderstood the King, or what the King could possibly mean by referring the Elf to him.
“I am honoured, Legolas. I will speak with the King on this matter. If he indeed seeks my opinion, I would tell him I would be overjoyed to have you and your people in Ithilien.”
Legolas raised his cup. “To fair Ithilien,” he said.
“To fair Ithilien,” Faramir replied, raising his cup, “and to friendship with the fair folk who will grace the land with their presence.”
“Whatever you said to Faramir must be interesting indeed, Legolas,” Éomer said from across the table. “It managed to keep his eyes off his lady long enough for me to finish my second plate.”
Faramir returned the grin. “I thank you for reminding me, Éomer. With your blessing, I will again fix my eyes on your fair sister for the rest of the evening.”
Éomer laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender.
Faramir enjoyed himself that evening, more than he thought he would. As he had expected, the King did not put on airs, and everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy being in the presence of the King.
After the meal, they lingered for songs and tales. The Halflings contributed many songs from their land. Pippin’s song in praise of hot bath was particularly well received. Faramir, who had endured many weary nights after battle, agreed wholeheartedly that hot water (or water hot, as Pippin put it) was a noble thing.
As they listened to the merry songs, Aragorn moved to the chair next to Faramir.
“What is this I heard about you vacating your house?” He spoke in a low voice, that only he and Faramir heard.
“Inaccurate report, Sire. I dwell still in my house.”
“For one more night? And then to leave tomorrow, as the Steward’s banner is lowered down?”
Faramir chuckled. “That would be very poetic, would it not? Alas, packing my things took longer than expected. I will need more time, two weeks perhaps.”
“Need I say that I do not wish you to leave the Tower?”
“I know you are too generous to wish it, Sire. But do you not agree that it is necessary?”
Aragorn looked at him closely. Then he said, “Do not move yet, let us speak of this tomorrow.”
Faramir nodded, and they both returned their attention to Pippin and Merry who had by then climbed on the table and danced.
Later that evening, as people began to leave the tables and returned to their tents, Aragorn said to Faramir. “I am glad you came, Lord Faramir.”
“I am grateful that you invited me, my lord,” he said. Perhaps emboldened by the friendly air in the encampment, he spoke again, “You call many men of Gondor and Rohan by name. Would you not do the same with me?”
Aragorn smiled. “I thought you would never ask, Faramir. And you must have observed that my friends and kin call me by name. Would you not do the same?”
Faramir hesitated for a moment, but then he answered, “I am honoured, Aragorn.”
Then he bowed and said, “I will see you tomorrow, my lord.”
Aragorn laughed merrily. When Faramir addressed him as his lord, it carried more tenderness than when most people called him by name.
He clapped Faramir’s shoulder. “Till tomorrow, Lord Steward.”
...