Open

[wouldnottakeit]

Faramir will not go far into the woods. He was warned about them on his arrival, and, although he has no doubt in his own skills as a ranger, he arrived with no weapons and a wound that still is not entirely healed. So he forgoes any urge to examine them more closely for now and instead sits on a large rock near enough to the woods, but within easy

Comments

now that his typist is not failing...

[valiantfinwe]

Fingon is not good at living a quiet life. Restless, he's been pacing around the grounds at least once a day for weeks now, wishing he had something to do. Something productive. However, it also means he's more open to talking to new people, even if he is a little bit overbearing sometimes.

Coming back to the Mansion, he eyes Faramir's stack of books. "I hope you're not trying to read all of those at once," he says, in a tone that's almost wry. But not quite. He's a little too serious for that.

*coughs*

Re: now that his typist is not failing...

[wouldnottakeit]

Torn out of his reading, Faramir looks up. For the slightest moment he is visibly confused before he remembers where he is and that the elf in front of him did not spring directly from the book he is reading. "Not all at the same moment, my lord, but I do intend to read them all."

Re: now that his typist is not failing...

[valiantfinwe]

"As long as it's not at the same time," he observes, and examines Faramir a moment longer before inclining his head. "Good day, then, scholar."

Re: now that his typist is not failing...

[wouldnottakeit]

Seeing as Fingon met Boromir when he arrived (however briefly), he may notice the similarities between the two during his examination. At the very least it's noticeable that Faramir isn't your average Edain.

"The same to you, my lord."

[valiantfinwe]

He does notice, despite the fact that generally Fingon overlooks small differences. But they are pronounced enough here that his eyes sharpen a little, frowning slightly, considering him with slightly more interest. There is a vague similarity, but he can't quite place it yet.

"Are you new come?" He'd like to think he'd notice people that distinctive.

[wouldnottakeit]

"I arrived at this place but a few weeks back, and I fear I am new to its peoples and customs still." He rises from his seat and bows. " I am Faramir son of Denethor, the Lord and Steward of Gondor."

[valiantfinwe]

Fingon is trying to place that name, and eventually manages to, though it doesn't really explain the differences. Not to him, anyway. But he inclines his head slightly. "Findekano, High King of the Noldor." Lately. But we don't talk about that.

[wouldnottakeit]

Faramir bows again, more deeply this time. "It is an honor."