To my dear friend Shirebound...
Thank you for your friendship, your encouragement of my writing and all the support and love you've sent my way over the years. May you have a wonderful year ahead of you filled w/the love of a very special puppy that's out there just waiting to meet you.
I don't think I've ever shared this story here, and even though there aren't any hobbits in it, it's a lovely bit of fluff that also has a dash of seriousness thrown in for good measure. :o)
A Very, Very, Very Happy Birthday to you my very dear friend and I hope you enjoy this!!!
(((((HUGS)))))
Comfort From A Friend
Rating ~ G
Setting ~ The Gardens of The Houses of Healing
Characters ~ Faramir, Aragorn and an OAC (Original Animal Character
Standard Disclaimer ~ They belong, with the exception of Mithriel, to Professor J.R.R Tolkien and the various rights holders. Not to me, but I certainly do have a lot of fun giving them new adventures.
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He had come to the gardens seeking solitude. The King returned, his father dead and he nearly so…Faramir’s mind was reeling. It was his first day out of his bed since the Lord Aragorn had brought him back from the very brink of the Black Breath. He knew affairs of state were waiting for him, the new Steward of Gondor, but they could bide their time a bit longer. Too much had happened in such a short matter of time and Faramir needed time to sort it out.
Sighing, he came to a secluded spot in the gardens of the Houses of Healing without really realizing it. Faramir had very faint memories of picnics here with his father, Boromir and their mother. He and Boromir had gifted the Gardens here with the bench to honour their Mother’s memory as soon as they were both of an age to do so together. Being so long in Ithilien serving with the Rangers the last few years, Faramir had not been able to come to the little clearing in many years.
If Faramir had not been so lost in his thoughts and memories, he would have given the bench a closer look before he sat.
“YEEEOOOWWWCCCCHHHH!!!!”
“MEEEERRRROOOWWWWW!!!!”
The new Steward of Gondor had ended up in an undignified heap on the ground in front of the bench. On the seat, and looking every inch the injured party she was, sat the cat of the Warden of the Houses. Mithriel was also giving Faramir a look that would have sent a Nazgul fleeing in the other direction.
“Mithri, forgive me please?” Faramir had managed to dust himself off and was now holding out his hand to the silver tabby “Come Mithri. I honestly did not see you there. You know I would never injure you intentionally.” The cat continued to glare at him, but after a few moments, decided to let Faramir into her good graces once more. With a decided air of superiority draped around her, Mithriel stepped closer to the offered fingers and began rubbing them.
Settling himself on the ground, Faramir moved his fingers up to Mithriel’s ears and began scratching them. He was rewarded with a loud and continuous purring for his efforts. For the first time since he awoke to Aragorn’s face above him a few days ago, a real smile appeared on the Gondorian’s face. “I believe this means all is forgiven then. I do regret sitting on you. I was preoccupied, but I still should have looked before sitting. Especially with a lady present.”
Mithriel gave a soft meow at that point. Whether it was in agreement with the Steward’s last statement, or the fact Faramir had stopped scratching her ears, he wasn’t quite sure. It really was a moot point though, as he began to softly stroke down her back much to Mithri’s delight.
“Yes, I remember how well you love this mellon nin. I also remember how much Boromir adored you. Many would laugh at the image of the mighty Boromir, slayer of Orcs and other forces of our Enemy, talking nonsense words to a cat.” Faramir started stroking underneath the tabby’s chin. “I wonder, do you know he will never return to cuddle with you on this bench? His kitten witten? Oh, we both knew full well you are the Warden’s cat, but we also knew you were ours as well. You know Mithri…”
Faramir suddenly stopped petting the cat as he realized exactly what he was doing. He had sought out the bench in this portion of the garden to be left alone. The last thing Faramir had needed was another sympathetic healer or member of the Court coming to him to let the new Steward know “they were there for him when he needed to talk about the events of the last few days.” Or so he thought.
Shaking his head, Faramir grinned up at the cat. Maybe it would be a good idea to “talk” with someone about the last few days. The fact that someone had four legs, fur and meowed didn’t matter to him. It was perfection in fact. An understanding audience and one that would not do anything other than stay by him and listen, it really was perfect.
Faramir leaned against the bench and began rubbing the top of Mithriel’s head. “You know something my furry friend, there has been much change the past few days. We have a King once again in Gondor Mithri and I can not wait to introduce you to him. You would like him I think. He also has the healing hands. If not for that, then…”
As Faramir began telling the silver tabby the tale, the subject of it stood at a discreet distance away. Aragorn had come looking for Faramir for two reasons : To check on the younger man’s arm injuries and to attempt the beginning of the healing process for Faramir’s emotional scars. Aragorn knew the longer the emotions of Faramir’s experiences during the last month stayed bottled inside of him, the damage of those wounds would be far more lasting.
Relieved to see his future Steward finally sharing everything with someone Faramir knew would never tell, Aragorn quietly left that portion of the Gardens. Seeing to his Steward’s arm injuries could wait until later. Besides, leaving now also gave Aragorn the perfect excuse to come back to the Houses later. When he did, the Ranger intended to do what was needed to be introduced to the only serving member of the Houses of Healing possessing four legs, fur and a tail.
The End
Elvish to English Translations
Mellon nin ~ My friend
Mithriel ~ Silver lady