Fic for alexajohnson
Title: The Right Reason
For alexajohnson
By arahiril
Characters: Faramir, Pippin, Gandalf
Rating: G
Genre: General
Warnings: None whatever.
alexajohnson had requested: a movieverse Faramir/Pippin friendship fic, set before the Pyre of Denethor, to help explain why Pippin, who did not seem to have much of a relationship with Faramir, was so keen on saving him.
Very brief note: First of all, Hobbits are not my forte; but I tried to make the style more casual, both because it’s told from Pippin’s point of view, but also because Alexa had specifically requested movieverse. I went a little astray from that in some ways by trying to reconcile Tolkien’s and PJ’s somewhat disparate images of Faramir by creating the movie one in Pippin first, before he really gets to know Faramir, and the book version later - to imply that Pippin just took a little longer in the movie to become as attached and impressed by Faramir than he did in the book. I hope this comes through.
Pippin felt completely out of place while Faramir and Gandalf talked in hushed whispers in the Courtyard. He had not been very comfortable around Faramir, truth be told - somehow his eyes had pierced right through Pippin, as though he could read Pippin’s heart and know exactly what he had thought and said and done. And if he could - well then, Faramir would not likely be impressed by what he saw, Pippin thought. I’ve been nothing but trouble from the start, he sighed, and I’m responsible for his brother’s death! Every time he thought he could do nothing worse, he did. Gandalf had come back from the dead, though his miraculous revival and elevation did little to erase the guilt Pippin felt for his part in Gandalf’s death. And Boromir was not a Wizard who could come back to life. But his latest mistake with the palantír - he felt like such a fool! A fool of a Took, rather, he thought miserably.
Pippin turned his attention back to the conversation between Gandalf and Faramir, but soon he gave up trying to understand what they were saying. He had listened at first, as Faramir told of his encounter with Frodo, Sam, and Gollum, but once they had turned to discussing strategy and started talking about places and names he had never heard of, his mind had started to wander. He did not like what Faramir said about his interaction with Frodo, what with Faramir taking Frodo to Osgiliath, but he was glad that Faramir had released his cousin and the others. He and Merry had made Aragorn tell them about Boromir’s final moments, and learning about Boromir’s temptation and attempt to take the Ring had put his whole world into a new perspective. If even the mighty Boromir could falter, then Pippin feared that perhaps Frodo or Sam might falter too, despite their good intentions.
It was hard for him to understand the temptation to take the Ring, because it did not even speak to him in the same way that it seemed to speak to others. At least, he didn’t understand temptation until the palantír. He still didn’t know why he succumbed to its pull, and could only wonder if Boromir had felt the same way. Regardless, Pippin had finally learned by experience what Sauron and the Ring really were, what they were fighting - and what the odds of success were. He wished he didn’t know how hopeless it all was.
He stared grimly towards the East, at the ever-thickening clouds, and only when the background hum of voices had ceased did he pay attention to Gandalf and Faramir. The two were staring at each other, as though something important had been said and they were both pondering its implications. And once more I missed it, Pippin thought unhappily.
“Perhaps you ought to have spoken first with your father,” Gandalf said at last. “He will not take it well that you have spoken with me before him.”
Faramir gave a short laugh, but even Pippin could tell that it was not a happy one. “He takes nothing well, my old friend. Better for me to have spoken with you before he ordered me to tell you nothing. That would have placed me in a difficult position.”
Gandalf placed his hand on Faramir’s shoulder. “I always feared that someday you would be forced to make a choice between us. I never wanted that. I am sorry.”
“I have already made my decision by releasing Frodo and his companions. But I do not regret it - regardless of the consequences.”
Gandalf moved closer and cupped Faramir’s cheek with his other hand. “My dear boy, even Elendil himself could not fail to be impressed by you.”
Faramir chuckled at that. “But Denethor is no Elendil.”
“No. No, he most certainly is not,” Gandalf said, withdrawing slightly from Faramir, as though Denethor’s very name made Gandalf uncomfortable. Pippin still wondered at that, but had wisely chosen to say nothing of it last night. He had yet to reconcile the images of his brave warrior Boromir with those of his grief-stricken, resentful father and stern, worried brother to create a picture of Gondor’s ruling family that suited what he had imagined.
Pippin watched Faramir close the distance between Gandalf and touch the Wizard’s elbow with his hand, amazed at the Man’s boldness - for he had seen no one approach Gandalf in such a forward and familiar way, save perhaps Frodo and Aragorn.
“But he and Elendil are not so dissimilar. They both sought to do the right thing for their people. You do understand that, do you not? Mithrandir?”
Gandalf sighed. “Aye. His heart has ever been in the right place, even if his head has not.”
Faramir smiled wryly. “A Man could say the same of you, my friend, and not be far from the mark.”
Gandalf laughed fully at that, though Pippin could not understand why, since Faramir’s words sounded more like an insult than a joke. Still, he did not understand Gandalf even when he spoke openly about something - and he had learned that Gandalf often reacted strangely to certain people.
“I should go and report to the Steward,” Faramir said. “He will be anxious for news - even news as grave as that which I have to offer.”
Gandalf’s smile faded. “Indeed. Do you sup with your father tonight?”
“I doubt it.”
A look passed between Faramir and Gandalf then, which Pippin did not understand, but he did recognize the grief and regret in both their gazes. His curiosity was piqued now, and he wondered what history lay between Faramir and Gandalf, and how they became so close.
“Dine with us, then. There is still much I would discuss with you.”
“Thank you, I shall. Until later, then.” Faramir bowed to Gandalf, then turned to Pippin and said, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Peregrin,” and bowed to him as well. Pippin was too surprised to answer. He stood with Gandalf and watched Faramir approach the Citadel doors, then pause halfway up the stairs to the entrance and turn back to face them.
“I am still happy to see you, Mithrandir. Despite Boromir, despite everything - I am very pleased to see you again.”
And with that, Faramir turned away and walked into the Citadel. Pippin looked up at Gandalf, and was shocked to find Gandalf’s eyes bright with a combination of love, pride, and unshed tears. “Gandalf?” he asked tentatively, not knowing what to say or do when faced with such naked emotion in the Wizard.
“A truly remarkable Man,” Gandalf murmured, as though speaking to himself. The Wizard cleared his head with a shake, then looked down at Pippin. “Come, let us order a dinner for three to be sent to our room. I’m sure we can find a bite of food for you in the kitchens while we’re there.”
Gandalf wrapped one arm around Pippin’s shoulder and led him away to yet another door to the Citadel. As they walked, Pippin battled his curiosity, but found that he could not resist asking the question that plagued him. “Gandalf, how do you know Faramir so well?”
Gandalf smiled, as if he had known this question was imminent. “He was a pupil of mine. I have spent much time here, searching for information in the archives to aid in the battle against Sauron. I nurtured a potential in Faramir that Denethor ignored - the potential for brilliance as a scholar, not a warrior.”
“But Faramir is a soldier, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is - and a talented and skillful one at that. But that is not his true gift. Faramir is a born politician and administrator, if there ever was one - his love and knowledge of lore is unparalleled in Gondor, save perhaps for Denethor. He will do such good for Gondor, if he is ever allowed the chance.”
Pippin swallowed. “But - with Boromir gone, surely - won’t he be Steward after his father?”
Gandalf smiled sadly. “There is no telling what will come. None of us may live long enough to see that happen. And it is possible that there will be no Steward in Gondor, even if Sauron is defeated and all our wildest dreams come true.”
Suddenly Pippin recalled Gandalf’s warning: And say nothing of Aragorn either. At last he understood what Aragorn’s arrival in Gondor meant for Boromir, and for his family - possibly the end of their importance to Gondor, despite what they had done and could still do for their country. He thought for a moment, then asked, “What will happen to Faramir then?”
“I do not know.” Gandalf looked down at Pippin. “Come. We can at least aid Faramir by ensuring he has a good meal tonight. I doubt whether the Army has had enough rations for its soldiers of late.”
Pippin remained silent as they walked to the kitchens. He doubted Aragorn would ever be disrespectful to Boromir’s family, but he understood better the tension between the two Men of the Fellowship. He wondered how Faramir would react to the news that Aragorn was returning to Gondor as King.
--
Faramir knocked on the door to Pippin’s and Gandalf’s chambers a few hours later, and Gandalf admitted him. As dinner had not yet arrived, the trio sat at the table, sipping a light wine while Faramir and Gandalf talked of lighter matters, such as Faramir’s recent reading material and Gandalf’s opinion on some scholar’s work on some king that Pippin had never heard of. Still, the conversation was pleasant, and he was happy just to sit and listen to them talk - especially Faramir. He had been curious about him from the start, but also disinterested in him, because of Faramir’s relationship to Boromir. He wanted to know more about Boromir and his family, to learn more about the Man who had been so kind to him and Merry, and had defended them so valiantly. But any thought of Boromir was still very painful to him, and so he didn’t want to know or think about anything having to do with Boromir.
Yet as the conversation continued, he began to be interested in Faramir in his own right. Gandalf clearly had a great deal of affection for Faramir, and though Boromir did not often speak of his brother, he knew that the Man had loved him dearly. He was impressed by Faramir’s knowledge, but also by his manner. He was very considerate, and still managed to be somewhat lighthearted, despite the Darkness that surrounded them and the battle he had fought this morning.
Suddenly Faramir turned to him, and Pippin found himself sitting straighter in his chair. “Forgive us, Master Peregrin - we have been ignoring you.” Pippin opened his mouth to protest, but Faramir spoke first. “Nay, we have been somewhat impolite. But I hope you will forgive me - it is rare that I have the company of such an old friend, and there is much still to be shared between us. Yet I hear that you have news of your own.”
“I do?” Pippin asked, surprised, for he could not think of a single thing to share.
“Indeed. They tell me you have offered your service to my father. I wish to thank you - Gondor is indeed grateful to you.”
At first Pippin thought Faramir was mocking or patronizing him, but the Man seemed entirely sincere. Thinking suddenly of Treebeard, Pippin replied, “A new friend of mine has been telling me, ‘Don’t be hasty!’ very frequently, and I’m sorry I didn’t take his advice. I’m not sure I’m ready for such a task.”
“A hasty deed to be sure, but not a thoughtless one, I deem. If your heart tells you that you are ready for such a commitment, that is all that matters.”
With Faramir’s words, Pippin felt six feet tall. He had felt like a fool for acting so quickly in taking service with Denethor - even Gandalf seemed to think his offer more humorous than serious. But Faramir took his oath seriously, and respected him for it, like no one else had done before.
“Tell me, Master Peregrin -”
“Pippin, please. Everyone calls me Pippin.”
“Pippin, then - will you be eating with your unit tonight?”
Pippin’s eyes went with panic. “Should I be? How can I? I’m just a Hobbit.”
Faramir smiled. “Ah, but you’re a Guard of the Citadel now as well. My advice would be to eat at the barracks tonight, with your comrades-in-arms. They will appreciate the gesture and reciprocate with more warmth and acceptance on the morrow than you might otherwise find.”
“But I’m not officially a Guard yet. And they would all just stare at me anyway.”
“When you are different from others, you will always be treated as different until you make an effort to fit in, to show how much you have in common with others.”
Pippin frowned. “I think I’m a little too different.”
Faramir laughed, and Pippin had to smile in response. He was glad he had made Faramir laugh. He had always enjoyed putting smiles on others’ faces. It was for this reason he so relished his adventures with Merry, for they never failed to amuse those around them. And Faramir certainly needed some amusement to lighten his heavy burden.
“I was once in a position very similar to yours,” Faramir responded. “It is difficult for the son of the Steward to convince others that he is just another soldier. You may struggle to be accepted, but it is a cause worth fighting for, and the rewards are great.”
“And you believe they will accept me?”
“I am certain of it, if you try.”
Pippin thought for a moment. He was afraid of so many things - including being entirely on his own in a foreign land for the first time since the beginning of the Quest. But Faramir’s words had stirred his heart, and he refused to even consider the possibility that he was merely being dismissed so that Faramir and Gandalf could talk privately, believing Faramir to be a noble Man above such actions. No - Faramir believed in him; who was he to doubt that confidence?
He squared his shoulders. “I’ll be going, then.” He stood and executed a bow that even the graceful Legolas would approve of, and then strode confidently from the room.
--
Later that night, as he returned from his supper with the other soldiers, he could not have been happier that he had followed Faramir’s advice. True, the meal had been awkward at first; but eventually he had made the acquaintance of a Man named Beregond who had introduced Pippin to his friends, and the conversation had flowed from there. They listened with great interest to his tales of his home in the Shire and of his travels; he reciprocated by soaking in any and all stories about Boromir and Faramir. He learned much from this conversation, especially about Faramir - and about Denethor’s preference for Boromir, a preference that was beyond Pippin’s comprehension. How could Denethor not love such sons equally? True, they were very different, but each deserved love and respect in his own right, regardless of the fact that they were Denethor’s own children.
It was as Pippin pondered these things that he first heard the music wafting through the halls of the Citadel. The tune was lively, though he did not understand the words, and he was reminded of the old days in the Green Dragon, before any of them could have ever imagined the course that their lives would take. He thought it strange to hear music in the otherwise silent building, and so he followed his curiosity and the music to its source, surreptitiously peeking his head into an open door, only to be astounded by the sight of Faramir, playing a lute and singing. Faramir must have sensed someone watching him, for he lifted his head and stopped playing.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Pippin stammered, ashamed of having been caught eavesdropping so shamelessly. He quickly backed away, and turned to go, but Faramir’s voice stopped him.
“Nay, Pippin, stay! You startled me, but did no harm.” Faramir laid aside the lute and stood. “Would you care to sit down?”
“I-I couldn’t… I wouldn’t want to impose…” Pippin began, but Faramir interrupted him.
“You are not imposing. Truly, I could use some company, and would be honored by your presence, unless there is some other matter that calls for your attention.”
“No… I was just returning from dinner,” Pippin explained, as he sat down at Faramir’s bidding. “I want to thank you for your advice - I think my duties will seem less daunting, now that I have learned more about them from the others, and know that I can ask them for help if I need it.”
“That is wonderful news,” Faramir said, pulling up a chair opposite Pippin. “I am glad you are beginning to feel more at home with us.”
“Thank you,” Pippin replied. Now that he knew more of Faramir, he felt far more daunted by the Man’s presence than he had before, and so he struggled to think of some meaningful conversation, worthy of the time of such a son of Gondor. His eyes darted about the room looking for inspiration, and happened upon the lute that had been set aside at Pippin’s intrusion.
“Did Boromir like to listen to you play and sing?” As soon as he said it, he wished he had not, for the look of grief that passed over Faramir’s face was enough to make him yearn for some way to take back his words. But the damage was done, and he could only apologize for his words, which he did - profusely.
Faramir smiled sadly. “Nay, Pippin, there is no need to apologize. You merely asked a question, and I cannot fault you for that, for we share a curiosity that drives us to seek answers. My brother’s death grieves me deeply, but I prefer to remember him, rather than shut away his memory. In such memories some small comfort can be found.”
Pippin felt his own eyes fill with tears, and he and Faramir sat quietly for a few minutes, wrapped in silent remembrance of the fallen Boromir.
At last Faramir cleared his throat, and Pippin looked up at him. “To answer your question, yes - Boromir did enjoy listening to me, and singing with me too. I was playing a favorite of his when you walked in. ‘Tis called ‘The Gardener’s Daughter’ in your tongue, and it tells the tale of a drunken soldier who mistakes a garden statue for a fair maid,” he said with a grin. Pippin laughed at the absurdity of the tale, but also as a tonic for his grief - and he was sure Faramir did the same. “Would you like to hear it?” Faramir asked. “I promise to translate it faithfully, to ensure that you hear the tale in full and thus learn more thoroughly the benefits of sobriety.”
Pippin laughed again, more merrily this time. “Yes, please do - for that is a lesson I could definitely afford to learn better.”
They stayed in each other’s company long into the night, swapping songs and tales, both lighthearted and sorrowful. Pippin felt honored by Faramir’s spending time with him, but even more importantly, he was comfortable in Faramir’s presence. To Pippin, the main benefit of Faramir’s companionship was not in the knowledge that he was held in esteem by such an important personage, but in the joy of Faramir’s company. He also felt as though he was able to give something in return, to repay Faramir for his kindness with laughter and good stories and a listening ear.
And when, the next day, Denethor sent Faramir out on that fateful ride to Osgiliath, he wished he was free of his duty, that he was not serving Denethor. For now he had a desire to do greater deeds than merely repay Boromir’s sacrifice, as had been his original purpose in offering his fealty to the Lord of Gondor. He wanted to ride with Faramir to Osgiliath, to follow him into battle, even to certain death, for the sake of the Man who had become not merely an acquaintance or commanding officer to him, but rather a friend.
EPILOGUE
Two days after the siege and the pyre, Pippin sat in vigil over Faramir. The Man was sleeping peacefully now, his wounds - both from arrows and flames - carefully tended by Aragorn and the healers. Pippin knew he should be with Merry, but he wanted to spend some time with Faramir before visiting his cousin. He felt strange, almost treacherous, for choosing to spend time with someone other than Merry, especially when Merry needed him so much, but he could not find it in him to abandon Faramir either. He felt as though a new page had been turned over in his life in the brief time that he had known Faramir - that he was a completely different person than the one who had ridden to Gondor with Gandalf a mere few days ago. He thought at first that it was the pyre that had changed his whole world, but he quickly realized that this change had come long before Denethor had decided to send himself and his son to the Halls of Mandos.
He looked down at the Man before him. Gandalf is right, Pippin thought. You are remarkable. In the course of three short days, Pippin had learned so much from this Man of Gondor. Faramir treated him like no other person - Elf, Man, Hobbit, Wizard, or Dwarf - had ever treated him. Faramir respected him for himself - not as half of an inseparable team, not as a tiny Hobbit needing protection, not as some creature from legend or prophecy. In all his travels this past year, Faramir was the first person who made him feel as though he had something real to offer on his own. Now he understood why the people of Gondor loved Faramir so much, why he was so respected and admired for more than his military skills.
Pippin was drawn out of his thoughts by the Man himself, who stirred and opened his eyes, offering a weak smile when he recognized the Hobbit sitting at his side. “Pippin,” he said softly, “how fare you?”
Pippin smiled back, in admiration of this Man who once more showed interest in him. “Quite well, as a matter of fact, if a bit hungry,” he replied jokingly, encouraging a wider smile from the Man. “And yourself?”
“I am better, thank you.” Faramir paused for a moment. Pippin could tell that the Man was thinking, and so waited patiently - another new thing for him - until he was ready to speak. At last, Faramir said, “Pippin, I must thank you for saving me. You shall always have my deep gratitude.” Pippin blushed and looked away, but feeling Faramir’s gaze on him he felt compelled to meet Faramir’s eyes. He opened his mouth to say it was nothing, but Faramir began to speak again and so he immediately fell silent. “But I must ask you something, Pippin, for my heart craves an answer, just as yours did that night. Please, I must know - why did you save me?”
Pippin’s heart raced as he tried to think of an answer. There were so many reasons - his duty as a soldier of Gondor, his desire to repay Boromir in some way, his knowledge of Gandalf’s affection for Faramir, his own respect and admiration for Faramir - but there was only one reason, and it was selfish at that. He was almost ashamed of himself, but he could not bring himself to lie to Faramir.
He took a deep breath, looked straight into Faramir’s eyes, and responded, “Because you’re my friend.”
The look on Faramir’s face told him that he had said - and done - the right thing, for the right reason.
THE END
I just want to thank everyone who's worked so hard to make Round 2 of our exchange a success - I'm very grateful to all participants and readers, and look forward to working with all of you again soon!! :)
For alexajohnson
By arahiril
Characters: Faramir, Pippin, Gandalf
Rating: G
Genre: General
Warnings: None whatever.
alexajohnson had requested: a movieverse Faramir/Pippin friendship fic, set before the Pyre of Denethor, to help explain why Pippin, who did not seem to have much of a relationship with Faramir, was so keen on saving him.
Very brief note: First of all, Hobbits are not my forte; but I tried to make the style more casual, both because it’s told from Pippin’s point of view, but also because Alexa had specifically requested movieverse. I went a little astray from that in some ways by trying to reconcile Tolkien’s and PJ’s somewhat disparate images of Faramir by creating the movie one in Pippin first, before he really gets to know Faramir, and the book version later - to imply that Pippin just took a little longer in the movie to become as attached and impressed by Faramir than he did in the book. I hope this comes through.
Pippin felt completely out of place while Faramir and Gandalf talked in hushed whispers in the Courtyard. He had not been very comfortable around Faramir, truth be told - somehow his eyes had pierced right through Pippin, as though he could read Pippin’s heart and know exactly what he had thought and said and done. And if he could - well then, Faramir would not likely be impressed by what he saw, Pippin thought. I’ve been nothing but trouble from the start, he sighed, and I’m responsible for his brother’s death! Every time he thought he could do nothing worse, he did. Gandalf had come back from the dead, though his miraculous revival and elevation did little to erase the guilt Pippin felt for his part in Gandalf’s death. And Boromir was not a Wizard who could come back to life. But his latest mistake with the palantír - he felt like such a fool! A fool of a Took, rather, he thought miserably.
Pippin turned his attention back to the conversation between Gandalf and Faramir, but soon he gave up trying to understand what they were saying. He had listened at first, as Faramir told of his encounter with Frodo, Sam, and Gollum, but once they had turned to discussing strategy and started talking about places and names he had never heard of, his mind had started to wander. He did not like what Faramir said about his interaction with Frodo, what with Faramir taking Frodo to Osgiliath, but he was glad that Faramir had released his cousin and the others. He and Merry had made Aragorn tell them about Boromir’s final moments, and learning about Boromir’s temptation and attempt to take the Ring had put his whole world into a new perspective. If even the mighty Boromir could falter, then Pippin feared that perhaps Frodo or Sam might falter too, despite their good intentions.
It was hard for him to understand the temptation to take the Ring, because it did not even speak to him in the same way that it seemed to speak to others. At least, he didn’t understand temptation until the palantír. He still didn’t know why he succumbed to its pull, and could only wonder if Boromir had felt the same way. Regardless, Pippin had finally learned by experience what Sauron and the Ring really were, what they were fighting - and what the odds of success were. He wished he didn’t know how hopeless it all was.
He stared grimly towards the East, at the ever-thickening clouds, and only when the background hum of voices had ceased did he pay attention to Gandalf and Faramir. The two were staring at each other, as though something important had been said and they were both pondering its implications. And once more I missed it, Pippin thought unhappily.
“Perhaps you ought to have spoken first with your father,” Gandalf said at last. “He will not take it well that you have spoken with me before him.”
Faramir gave a short laugh, but even Pippin could tell that it was not a happy one. “He takes nothing well, my old friend. Better for me to have spoken with you before he ordered me to tell you nothing. That would have placed me in a difficult position.”
Gandalf placed his hand on Faramir’s shoulder. “I always feared that someday you would be forced to make a choice between us. I never wanted that. I am sorry.”
“I have already made my decision by releasing Frodo and his companions. But I do not regret it - regardless of the consequences.”
Gandalf moved closer and cupped Faramir’s cheek with his other hand. “My dear boy, even Elendil himself could not fail to be impressed by you.”
Faramir chuckled at that. “But Denethor is no Elendil.”
“No. No, he most certainly is not,” Gandalf said, withdrawing slightly from Faramir, as though Denethor’s very name made Gandalf uncomfortable. Pippin still wondered at that, but had wisely chosen to say nothing of it last night. He had yet to reconcile the images of his brave warrior Boromir with those of his grief-stricken, resentful father and stern, worried brother to create a picture of Gondor’s ruling family that suited what he had imagined.
Pippin watched Faramir close the distance between Gandalf and touch the Wizard’s elbow with his hand, amazed at the Man’s boldness - for he had seen no one approach Gandalf in such a forward and familiar way, save perhaps Frodo and Aragorn.
“But he and Elendil are not so dissimilar. They both sought to do the right thing for their people. You do understand that, do you not? Mithrandir?”
Gandalf sighed. “Aye. His heart has ever been in the right place, even if his head has not.”
Faramir smiled wryly. “A Man could say the same of you, my friend, and not be far from the mark.”
Gandalf laughed fully at that, though Pippin could not understand why, since Faramir’s words sounded more like an insult than a joke. Still, he did not understand Gandalf even when he spoke openly about something - and he had learned that Gandalf often reacted strangely to certain people.
“I should go and report to the Steward,” Faramir said. “He will be anxious for news - even news as grave as that which I have to offer.”
Gandalf’s smile faded. “Indeed. Do you sup with your father tonight?”
“I doubt it.”
A look passed between Faramir and Gandalf then, which Pippin did not understand, but he did recognize the grief and regret in both their gazes. His curiosity was piqued now, and he wondered what history lay between Faramir and Gandalf, and how they became so close.
“Dine with us, then. There is still much I would discuss with you.”
“Thank you, I shall. Until later, then.” Faramir bowed to Gandalf, then turned to Pippin and said, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Peregrin,” and bowed to him as well. Pippin was too surprised to answer. He stood with Gandalf and watched Faramir approach the Citadel doors, then pause halfway up the stairs to the entrance and turn back to face them.
“I am still happy to see you, Mithrandir. Despite Boromir, despite everything - I am very pleased to see you again.”
And with that, Faramir turned away and walked into the Citadel. Pippin looked up at Gandalf, and was shocked to find Gandalf’s eyes bright with a combination of love, pride, and unshed tears. “Gandalf?” he asked tentatively, not knowing what to say or do when faced with such naked emotion in the Wizard.
“A truly remarkable Man,” Gandalf murmured, as though speaking to himself. The Wizard cleared his head with a shake, then looked down at Pippin. “Come, let us order a dinner for three to be sent to our room. I’m sure we can find a bite of food for you in the kitchens while we’re there.”
Gandalf wrapped one arm around Pippin’s shoulder and led him away to yet another door to the Citadel. As they walked, Pippin battled his curiosity, but found that he could not resist asking the question that plagued him. “Gandalf, how do you know Faramir so well?”
Gandalf smiled, as if he had known this question was imminent. “He was a pupil of mine. I have spent much time here, searching for information in the archives to aid in the battle against Sauron. I nurtured a potential in Faramir that Denethor ignored - the potential for brilliance as a scholar, not a warrior.”
“But Faramir is a soldier, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is - and a talented and skillful one at that. But that is not his true gift. Faramir is a born politician and administrator, if there ever was one - his love and knowledge of lore is unparalleled in Gondor, save perhaps for Denethor. He will do such good for Gondor, if he is ever allowed the chance.”
Pippin swallowed. “But - with Boromir gone, surely - won’t he be Steward after his father?”
Gandalf smiled sadly. “There is no telling what will come. None of us may live long enough to see that happen. And it is possible that there will be no Steward in Gondor, even if Sauron is defeated and all our wildest dreams come true.”
Suddenly Pippin recalled Gandalf’s warning: And say nothing of Aragorn either. At last he understood what Aragorn’s arrival in Gondor meant for Boromir, and for his family - possibly the end of their importance to Gondor, despite what they had done and could still do for their country. He thought for a moment, then asked, “What will happen to Faramir then?”
“I do not know.” Gandalf looked down at Pippin. “Come. We can at least aid Faramir by ensuring he has a good meal tonight. I doubt whether the Army has had enough rations for its soldiers of late.”
Pippin remained silent as they walked to the kitchens. He doubted Aragorn would ever be disrespectful to Boromir’s family, but he understood better the tension between the two Men of the Fellowship. He wondered how Faramir would react to the news that Aragorn was returning to Gondor as King.
--
Faramir knocked on the door to Pippin’s and Gandalf’s chambers a few hours later, and Gandalf admitted him. As dinner had not yet arrived, the trio sat at the table, sipping a light wine while Faramir and Gandalf talked of lighter matters, such as Faramir’s recent reading material and Gandalf’s opinion on some scholar’s work on some king that Pippin had never heard of. Still, the conversation was pleasant, and he was happy just to sit and listen to them talk - especially Faramir. He had been curious about him from the start, but also disinterested in him, because of Faramir’s relationship to Boromir. He wanted to know more about Boromir and his family, to learn more about the Man who had been so kind to him and Merry, and had defended them so valiantly. But any thought of Boromir was still very painful to him, and so he didn’t want to know or think about anything having to do with Boromir.
Yet as the conversation continued, he began to be interested in Faramir in his own right. Gandalf clearly had a great deal of affection for Faramir, and though Boromir did not often speak of his brother, he knew that the Man had loved him dearly. He was impressed by Faramir’s knowledge, but also by his manner. He was very considerate, and still managed to be somewhat lighthearted, despite the Darkness that surrounded them and the battle he had fought this morning.
Suddenly Faramir turned to him, and Pippin found himself sitting straighter in his chair. “Forgive us, Master Peregrin - we have been ignoring you.” Pippin opened his mouth to protest, but Faramir spoke first. “Nay, we have been somewhat impolite. But I hope you will forgive me - it is rare that I have the company of such an old friend, and there is much still to be shared between us. Yet I hear that you have news of your own.”
“I do?” Pippin asked, surprised, for he could not think of a single thing to share.
“Indeed. They tell me you have offered your service to my father. I wish to thank you - Gondor is indeed grateful to you.”
At first Pippin thought Faramir was mocking or patronizing him, but the Man seemed entirely sincere. Thinking suddenly of Treebeard, Pippin replied, “A new friend of mine has been telling me, ‘Don’t be hasty!’ very frequently, and I’m sorry I didn’t take his advice. I’m not sure I’m ready for such a task.”
“A hasty deed to be sure, but not a thoughtless one, I deem. If your heart tells you that you are ready for such a commitment, that is all that matters.”
With Faramir’s words, Pippin felt six feet tall. He had felt like a fool for acting so quickly in taking service with Denethor - even Gandalf seemed to think his offer more humorous than serious. But Faramir took his oath seriously, and respected him for it, like no one else had done before.
“Tell me, Master Peregrin -”
“Pippin, please. Everyone calls me Pippin.”
“Pippin, then - will you be eating with your unit tonight?”
Pippin’s eyes went with panic. “Should I be? How can I? I’m just a Hobbit.”
Faramir smiled. “Ah, but you’re a Guard of the Citadel now as well. My advice would be to eat at the barracks tonight, with your comrades-in-arms. They will appreciate the gesture and reciprocate with more warmth and acceptance on the morrow than you might otherwise find.”
“But I’m not officially a Guard yet. And they would all just stare at me anyway.”
“When you are different from others, you will always be treated as different until you make an effort to fit in, to show how much you have in common with others.”
Pippin frowned. “I think I’m a little too different.”
Faramir laughed, and Pippin had to smile in response. He was glad he had made Faramir laugh. He had always enjoyed putting smiles on others’ faces. It was for this reason he so relished his adventures with Merry, for they never failed to amuse those around them. And Faramir certainly needed some amusement to lighten his heavy burden.
“I was once in a position very similar to yours,” Faramir responded. “It is difficult for the son of the Steward to convince others that he is just another soldier. You may struggle to be accepted, but it is a cause worth fighting for, and the rewards are great.”
“And you believe they will accept me?”
“I am certain of it, if you try.”
Pippin thought for a moment. He was afraid of so many things - including being entirely on his own in a foreign land for the first time since the beginning of the Quest. But Faramir’s words had stirred his heart, and he refused to even consider the possibility that he was merely being dismissed so that Faramir and Gandalf could talk privately, believing Faramir to be a noble Man above such actions. No - Faramir believed in him; who was he to doubt that confidence?
He squared his shoulders. “I’ll be going, then.” He stood and executed a bow that even the graceful Legolas would approve of, and then strode confidently from the room.
--
Later that night, as he returned from his supper with the other soldiers, he could not have been happier that he had followed Faramir’s advice. True, the meal had been awkward at first; but eventually he had made the acquaintance of a Man named Beregond who had introduced Pippin to his friends, and the conversation had flowed from there. They listened with great interest to his tales of his home in the Shire and of his travels; he reciprocated by soaking in any and all stories about Boromir and Faramir. He learned much from this conversation, especially about Faramir - and about Denethor’s preference for Boromir, a preference that was beyond Pippin’s comprehension. How could Denethor not love such sons equally? True, they were very different, but each deserved love and respect in his own right, regardless of the fact that they were Denethor’s own children.
It was as Pippin pondered these things that he first heard the music wafting through the halls of the Citadel. The tune was lively, though he did not understand the words, and he was reminded of the old days in the Green Dragon, before any of them could have ever imagined the course that their lives would take. He thought it strange to hear music in the otherwise silent building, and so he followed his curiosity and the music to its source, surreptitiously peeking his head into an open door, only to be astounded by the sight of Faramir, playing a lute and singing. Faramir must have sensed someone watching him, for he lifted his head and stopped playing.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Pippin stammered, ashamed of having been caught eavesdropping so shamelessly. He quickly backed away, and turned to go, but Faramir’s voice stopped him.
“Nay, Pippin, stay! You startled me, but did no harm.” Faramir laid aside the lute and stood. “Would you care to sit down?”
“I-I couldn’t… I wouldn’t want to impose…” Pippin began, but Faramir interrupted him.
“You are not imposing. Truly, I could use some company, and would be honored by your presence, unless there is some other matter that calls for your attention.”
“No… I was just returning from dinner,” Pippin explained, as he sat down at Faramir’s bidding. “I want to thank you for your advice - I think my duties will seem less daunting, now that I have learned more about them from the others, and know that I can ask them for help if I need it.”
“That is wonderful news,” Faramir said, pulling up a chair opposite Pippin. “I am glad you are beginning to feel more at home with us.”
“Thank you,” Pippin replied. Now that he knew more of Faramir, he felt far more daunted by the Man’s presence than he had before, and so he struggled to think of some meaningful conversation, worthy of the time of such a son of Gondor. His eyes darted about the room looking for inspiration, and happened upon the lute that had been set aside at Pippin’s intrusion.
“Did Boromir like to listen to you play and sing?” As soon as he said it, he wished he had not, for the look of grief that passed over Faramir’s face was enough to make him yearn for some way to take back his words. But the damage was done, and he could only apologize for his words, which he did - profusely.
Faramir smiled sadly. “Nay, Pippin, there is no need to apologize. You merely asked a question, and I cannot fault you for that, for we share a curiosity that drives us to seek answers. My brother’s death grieves me deeply, but I prefer to remember him, rather than shut away his memory. In such memories some small comfort can be found.”
Pippin felt his own eyes fill with tears, and he and Faramir sat quietly for a few minutes, wrapped in silent remembrance of the fallen Boromir.
At last Faramir cleared his throat, and Pippin looked up at him. “To answer your question, yes - Boromir did enjoy listening to me, and singing with me too. I was playing a favorite of his when you walked in. ‘Tis called ‘The Gardener’s Daughter’ in your tongue, and it tells the tale of a drunken soldier who mistakes a garden statue for a fair maid,” he said with a grin. Pippin laughed at the absurdity of the tale, but also as a tonic for his grief - and he was sure Faramir did the same. “Would you like to hear it?” Faramir asked. “I promise to translate it faithfully, to ensure that you hear the tale in full and thus learn more thoroughly the benefits of sobriety.”
Pippin laughed again, more merrily this time. “Yes, please do - for that is a lesson I could definitely afford to learn better.”
They stayed in each other’s company long into the night, swapping songs and tales, both lighthearted and sorrowful. Pippin felt honored by Faramir’s spending time with him, but even more importantly, he was comfortable in Faramir’s presence. To Pippin, the main benefit of Faramir’s companionship was not in the knowledge that he was held in esteem by such an important personage, but in the joy of Faramir’s company. He also felt as though he was able to give something in return, to repay Faramir for his kindness with laughter and good stories and a listening ear.
And when, the next day, Denethor sent Faramir out on that fateful ride to Osgiliath, he wished he was free of his duty, that he was not serving Denethor. For now he had a desire to do greater deeds than merely repay Boromir’s sacrifice, as had been his original purpose in offering his fealty to the Lord of Gondor. He wanted to ride with Faramir to Osgiliath, to follow him into battle, even to certain death, for the sake of the Man who had become not merely an acquaintance or commanding officer to him, but rather a friend.
EPILOGUE
Two days after the siege and the pyre, Pippin sat in vigil over Faramir. The Man was sleeping peacefully now, his wounds - both from arrows and flames - carefully tended by Aragorn and the healers. Pippin knew he should be with Merry, but he wanted to spend some time with Faramir before visiting his cousin. He felt strange, almost treacherous, for choosing to spend time with someone other than Merry, especially when Merry needed him so much, but he could not find it in him to abandon Faramir either. He felt as though a new page had been turned over in his life in the brief time that he had known Faramir - that he was a completely different person than the one who had ridden to Gondor with Gandalf a mere few days ago. He thought at first that it was the pyre that had changed his whole world, but he quickly realized that this change had come long before Denethor had decided to send himself and his son to the Halls of Mandos.
He looked down at the Man before him. Gandalf is right, Pippin thought. You are remarkable. In the course of three short days, Pippin had learned so much from this Man of Gondor. Faramir treated him like no other person - Elf, Man, Hobbit, Wizard, or Dwarf - had ever treated him. Faramir respected him for himself - not as half of an inseparable team, not as a tiny Hobbit needing protection, not as some creature from legend or prophecy. In all his travels this past year, Faramir was the first person who made him feel as though he had something real to offer on his own. Now he understood why the people of Gondor loved Faramir so much, why he was so respected and admired for more than his military skills.
Pippin was drawn out of his thoughts by the Man himself, who stirred and opened his eyes, offering a weak smile when he recognized the Hobbit sitting at his side. “Pippin,” he said softly, “how fare you?”
Pippin smiled back, in admiration of this Man who once more showed interest in him. “Quite well, as a matter of fact, if a bit hungry,” he replied jokingly, encouraging a wider smile from the Man. “And yourself?”
“I am better, thank you.” Faramir paused for a moment. Pippin could tell that the Man was thinking, and so waited patiently - another new thing for him - until he was ready to speak. At last, Faramir said, “Pippin, I must thank you for saving me. You shall always have my deep gratitude.” Pippin blushed and looked away, but feeling Faramir’s gaze on him he felt compelled to meet Faramir’s eyes. He opened his mouth to say it was nothing, but Faramir began to speak again and so he immediately fell silent. “But I must ask you something, Pippin, for my heart craves an answer, just as yours did that night. Please, I must know - why did you save me?”
Pippin’s heart raced as he tried to think of an answer. There were so many reasons - his duty as a soldier of Gondor, his desire to repay Boromir in some way, his knowledge of Gandalf’s affection for Faramir, his own respect and admiration for Faramir - but there was only one reason, and it was selfish at that. He was almost ashamed of himself, but he could not bring himself to lie to Faramir.
He took a deep breath, looked straight into Faramir’s eyes, and responded, “Because you’re my friend.”
The look on Faramir’s face told him that he had said - and done - the right thing, for the right reason.
THE END
I just want to thank everyone who's worked so hard to make Round 2 of our exchange a success - I'm very grateful to all participants and readers, and look forward to working with all of you again soon!! :)