Chapter Text
“Is this illustration of a Southron genie more like what you’re looking for, Legolas?” asked Lord-the-Captain Dervorin, Aragorn’s assistant spymaster for Harad and Khand.
Legolas eagerly accepted the dusty tome Dervorin offered him.
As he scanned the page Dervorin had bookmarked, the adolescent elven prince smiled happily, “It’s perfect, Dev. Thank you."
"Look, Faramir," Legolas then enthused, "this drawing fits the description of the genie in the Haradric fairytale you translated for Grierr’s book. By which I mean that he looks both wonderful and terrible at the same time.”
Faramir glanced over from the picture of an oasis he’d been sketching. It was meant to aid Legolas in designing his final illustration for the Harad section of the ‘fairy tales from different kingdoms’ tome that they were jointly working on as an early Yuletide present for Gimli’s nephew Greirr. One of the few good things about Faramir’s father sticking him with ‘deputy Stewards’ was that he had more time for projects like this.
“Hmm, yes, I think that would work,” mused Faramir, “Except that, as I recall, you plan to paint your genie with amethyst skin. So that he stands out better from the blues of the sky and the water in the oasis.”
“Yes,” Legolas affirmed, “mine will be jewel-tone purple, and he will have a slightly friendlier mien. That will help me to make this genie my own creation. I don’t want to just copy the genie that . . .” Legolas paused to look at the author’s name on the spine of the book, and carefully sounded out, “Ahsan ibn Laraib drew.”
“He’s been dead for centuries. He wrote around the time of the Gondorian Kinslaying. So, I don’t think he’ll care. But suit yourself,” Faramir supplied.
Legolas stuck his tongue out playfully, “Thank you, oh wise elder brother. I will. How are you coming with the landscape?”
“See for yourself,” replied Faramir with good cheer. He passed over his sketchbook with his draft depiction of an oasis.
“This is excellent, Faramir,” exclaimed Legolas. “It looks cool and inviting even in black and white. I love the waterfall, and the rocks covered in flowering vines. It will make a suitable backdrop for our brave princess as she finds the genie who will help her save her father’s emirate.”
As Legolas returned the sketchbook, he asked, “Where did you find the inspiration for it? Most of the oases in Dervorin’s travelogues have seemed like pretty boring places. Nothing more than flat pools of water with a few palm trees.”
Dervorin bent his head over Faramir’s shoulder to take a peek, then snorted in amusement. “It’s the Oasis of Sweet Waters amid the Singing Sands," he explained to Legolas. "It's located in the desert between Near Harad and Far Harad. If it’s in any book of mine, I’ve never seen it." Dervorin ruffled Faramir's hair as he added proudly, "Our Faramir probably drew it from memory.”
“Oh,” realized Legolas, “when he was spyin . . . um, I mean . . .” he fumbled to a stop. He appeared both horrified and apologetic at what he’d almost given away by his slip of the tongue.
“Don’t worry,” soothed Faramir, “Dev knows all about Denethor letting me spy for Gondor in Harad. That’s where we first met, actually.”
“That’s where I had my agent save your life by interrupting that offended desert Chieftain’s assassination attempt on you, you mean,” Dervorin corrected, his tone half amused and half scolding.
“Yes, that is what I meant.”
“As I recall, that Chieftain’s actions were quite predictable," Dervorin lectured mildly, "as you had offended the fellow earlier that day by complimenting his mercy just before he blinded three men who’d trespassed on his camp. Thus making it impossible for him to do anything but feed them and let them go if he didn’t want to lose face in front of the other traders.”
“Right,” conceded Faramir, with an embarrassed smile.
“This one’s luck was running strong, that day,” Dervorin informed Legolas grandly while he tugged on a lock of Faramir’s half-braided back red-gold hair. “One of those trespassers was a beggar hoping for a meal. The second of them was my man, a northern ranger spying for us. The third was a young Haradric lord in disguise, wooing the Chieftain’s daughter. So, in short, none of them were anyone whose life was worth a Gondorian spy risking his life, and his cover identity, to save.”
“But,” Legolas objected, “if they were going to be blinded just for trespassing, then any good person should have wanted to save them.”
“Any good man should have,” Dervorin agreed wryly, “but not any sensible spy. Which made me almost discount all of the little things about our Faramir and his friend Kasim which, when taken all together, had hinted that ‘these are Gondorians, hoping to gain intelligence about Harad’s next serious attempt on the Ithilien border.’”
“Unfortunately, I made a mistake,” Faramir explained humbly. “Kasim and I had to make a quick departure from that oasis in order to avoid further assassination attempts. We’d been there posing as merchants. When we rode away, I accidentally left behind two satchels of trade goods. They contained far more in the way of spices and herbs from Gondor than I should have been able to afford. What with the level of wealth Kasim and I had portrayed ourselves as having, that is.”
“Short-term stupid, but, in the long-term, quite lucky for you,” Dervorin criticized fondly. “Although you only got to reap your long-term benefits because my Northern Rangers and I cleaned up your campsite before anyone else had a chance to see it. Then, whenever we saw you or any of your men in the future, we passed on whatever relevant information we’d collected during our own spying forays. In the name of Ranger solidarity, and all that.
“We had much cause to be grateful for our Northern Ranger spy friends,” Faramir agreed solemnly. Then he teased, “It was good of you to give away your existence by helping us, Dev. Amongst other things.”
“Haha, Nuisance,” retorted Dervorin. He added, “Well you should be grateful. Ethiron was less than pleased with me for that. Perhaps all the more so because Aragorn retroactively approved my play, with no qualms whatsoever on his part. Although even Ethiron allowed that it proved a worthwhile sacrifice, when you Southern Rangers used the intelligence we’d given you to help you hold your line on the Ithilien border until the Ring War was won.”
“Of course,” Dervorin continued as he turned back to Legolas, “I had no idea that Faramir was the Steward’s son, then. What man in his right mind would send a ruler’s son out as a spy?”
“A desperate man,” Faramir gravely countered. Also, a man who hadn’t particularly valued his second son. Boromir had never known about Faramir’s spying. If he’d found out about it, he would promptly have thrown a fit of such epic proportions that even Denethor would probably have given up on the idea.
“A shrewd man, who made a foolish decision,” Dervorin corrected. “Though it worked out for him and Gondor, as little as he deserved it. For you see Legolas, that third trespasser – the lord’s son in disguise?”
“Yes?” prompted Legolas, who loved adventure stories. Especially real-life ones.
“He turned out to be Lord Khay’ri, the son of the very influential royal Lord Kader.”
“Oh! Kader is the lord who inherited the emirate of Far Harad after the Battle at the Black Gate,” Legolas correctly identified.
“Well remembered,” Faramir praised his younger oath-brother. He waited for Legolas to lift his charcoal stick away from the genie he was adding to the drawing of a bargaining princess. Then Faramir nudged his shoulder and added, “You are going to make a very well-informed lord for your settlement of elves in my princedom.”
Legolas grinned shyly, “Well, I hope so. With most of my gardening and landscaping done for the autumn, I’ve had more time for the lessons that Gimli has arranged for him and I. There is a lot to learn about Ithilien and its long border with Harad.” Proudly, Legolas went on, “Gimli wants us both to be well-prepared. He is already turning into a fine regent. He says that his current work as the Lord of Aglarond, and his earlier duties as one of his King's administrators, is standing him in good stead. Even though he’d never expected to be the regent for an elven prince leading a ‘group of flighty elves!’”
Faramir laughed, “I can just hear him saying that. Although, he usually adds that it is your accomplishments that have made the whole thing possible. Both your heroism on the Quest, which earned you this reward from my Father and our Two Kingdoms, and your ability to speak with trees and help them heal. Without that rare gift, anyone making a home out of those particularly haunted woods would come to an unfortunate end.”
Legolas blushed, “I suppose so. You all say so, at the least. But it’s not so unusual, for us elves. To be able to do all of that, I mean.”
Faramir tilted his head as he replied, “Well, you would know better than I. But is it normal for an elf of only your seven decades to possess such mastery?”
“I . . . I really don’t know,” answered Legolas. He appeared taken aback, as if it had never occurred to him to even wonder if that might be an impressive accomplishment on his part.
At that point, the door to Dervorin’s sitting room opened to reveal Sir Herdestir. He was Faramir’s squire Herion’s older brother. Herdestir had ever been a friend to Boromir. He had willingly transferred that friendship and loyalty to Boromir’s younger brother. Then, when Faramir led the way, he’d been one of the first to swear himself to Aragorn as King. Now, he was the head of the taskforce searching for the refugees who had gone missing from the White City, mostly women and children. Those refugees included two orphans, fourteen year old Ramion and his six year old sister Langwen. They had become particular friends of Faramir and Legolas during the time the two princes had spent helping Arwen and her ladies entertain the widows and orphans of the city.
Faramir had no real problem with the appointment of Herdestir to this important position. Well, he had a few qualms about Herdestir recruiting some of the men he’d served with when he’d been a squire to Lord Tarsten as members of the taskforce. Tarsten of the Lebennin had been a council ally of Lord Morcocano of the Serni Vale. Morcocano’s past as a traitor to Gondor, a slaver, and a supplier of poisons to the murderous Archivist Belven had been revealed by Belven. Belven had been eager to share that information about Morcocano’s crimes in exchange for a more lenient sentence for himself, in the wake of his successful murder of the former chief archivist and his failed attempt on Faramir’s life.
Still, Aragorn himself, with his kingly gift for seeing the truth in men’s eyes, had interviewed everyone chosen for the taskforce. Faramir’s father had been satisfied with their virtue. So, Faramir had let the matter of Herdestir’s staffing rest. If Faramir began doubting Boromir’s friends or his father’s judgement, then he would drive himself mad for lack of being able to trust anyone. Even if there were a few men, like Sir Bregolon Calihmetarchil, the nephew and heir of the Lord of the Lefnui, who really rubbed Faramir the wrong way. Calihmetar was another council ally of Tarsten and, previously, Morcocano. Yes, both lords had seemed honestly horrified by their former ally’s treachery. Yes, good men such as Lords Sendar and Andasond, who Faramir did trust despite them also being frequent council opponents, had also allied with Morcocano on various issues.
In any case, that wasn’t Faramir’s biggest complaint about Herdestir and his task force. No, his biggest complaint was that Aragorn had deemed the probable foul fate of the refugees to be too unhappy a matter for Faramir to be directly involved in. The King had ordered the taskforce to bypass the Steward and report directly to him. Then Aragorn had proceeded to give Herdestir and all of his men stern instructions not to tell Faramir about their work. Fortunately, there was one man on the taskforce who still wanted to get Faramir’s take on what they should do next.
Which was why Faramir knew that Herdestir was not on his way to ride a routine patrol. Herdestir was actually planning to follow up on recent reports of bandit and pirate activity. Specifically, those reports which coincided with the disappearance of travelers. In other words, the missing refugee taskforce had become an anti-slavery taskforce. One which had only the faintest hopes of finding the missing refugees, such as Ramion and Langwen, still alive and healthy within the borders of Gondor.
As Herdestir entered the sitting room which led to the office Dervorin had been assigned in his titular position as the Junior Captain of the taskforce integrating the Northern Rangers into the new army of the Reunited Kingdoms, Herdestir's gaze immediately sought out Dervorin, who stood by the balcony doors. Herdestir’s eyes lit up with joy. As did Dervorin’s eyes, with welcome.
Then Herdestir noticed Faramir and Legolas on the settees by the table. He appeared disappointed not to find Dervorin alone, but only for a split second. Although that was long enough for Faramir to make note of it. That, along with the moony look in both of their eyes, confirmed a theory that Faramir had been developing about Dervorin and Herdestir.
Legolas had also noticed the fleeting glimpse of unhappiness on Herdestir’s face when he first noticed the two of them. This might be because Legolas, in Faramir's mind-healer Elladan's opinion, was, like Faramir, the product of an (at least) emotionally abusive upbringing. In Faramir's case, this was because of Denethor (in various ways). Also, during Boromir's not-infrequent absences, Elladan considered Faramir to have been a 'parentified child.'
Elladan and his twin and their father, Faramir's adoptive grandfather Elrond, considered Legolas' childhood to have been ‘bereft of parental nurturing.’ They also criticized Thranduil, and Legolas’ other caregivers, for their insistence that Legolas attain a degree of proficiency in the warrior arts which ‘had been unfair to demand of such a young elf.’
Elladan and Elrohir were of the opinion that both Faramir and Legolas had been taught to value themselves only for what they could do for their kingdoms, and not for their own selves alone. Given that Faramir and Legolas had had conversations wherein they confessed to one another a mutual feeling that they had 'outlived their usefulness' after the Ring War, Faramir thought that the twins were probably not wildly off mark with that opinion of theirs.
In any case, Elladan said that survivors of childhood abuse tended to be able to read people with exquisite accuracy. This was so because when those survivors were growing up, their well-being had depended upon their ability to do so.
Meanwhile, Legolas responded to Herdestir's fleeting betrayal of unhappiness by giving Faramir ‘a Look.' This interrupted Faramir's thoughts about their respective less-than-contented childhoods.
Faramir sighed internally. He reflected with affectionate exasperation that Legolas often gave him significant glances. His elven oath brother seemed to believe that their meanings should be obvious to Faramir. Sometimes they were, such as when they were both being mother-henned by their respective overprotective father figures. Or when they’d done something to get into trouble with those same fathers, and were trying to get themselves out of it. Or, at least, trying to minimize the consequences to their respective hides.
But, often - sometimes even during the second of those circumstances - Faramir could only guess at the meaning of whichever ‘Look’ Legolas was giving him at any given moment. This time, his best friend’s gaze seemed troubled. Perhaps Legolas was thinking about what might be happening to Ramion and Langwen. Or, perhaps this was an instance when Legolas was troubled because he felt like he’d hurt someone he cared about. Faramir mulled the matter over. He decided that this current ‘Look’ he was receiving from Legolas was most likely intended to convey worry over Ramion and Langwen.
Upon reaching that determination, Faramir ventured, “Hello, Herdestir. Legolas and I were wondering if you’d be willing to update us on the search for the missing refugees.”
This statement made Legolas favor Faramir with an irritated ‘Look.' From that Faramir gathered that he had guessed incorrectly.
As Herdestir exchanged his own set of exasperated ‘Looks’ with Dervorin, Faramir began to wrack his brains for any reason why Legolas might be under the impression that he had done something to hurt Herdestir.
“I’m sorry, my young friends,” Herdestir answered at length. “But I am afraid it is worth more than my life to share that information with you. That is, without first getting permission from Aragorn and Gimli.”
“You know, Herdestir,” Faramir pointed out, even though he didn’t expect this particular gambit to work, “your blood-brotherhood oath to Boromir can arguably be said to transfer to me. It preceded your oath to our new King.”
Dervorin groaned and tossed a scroll directly toward Faramir’s face. Herdestir shook his head, appearing a bit overwhelmed.
Faramir batted the scroll away from his person and his sketchpad as he continued, “The promise you gave my Father not to tell me anything about the work of your taskforce was a narrowly worded statement. Whereas a blood brotherhood oath is quite broad. No judge would convict you of having contravened your avowal to my father your King, simply for your sharing information which would relieve my mind of great distress.”
“Why Faramir Telcontar, aren’t you just Gondor’s premiere barracks room lawyer,” Dervorin teased. He followed this up with a slightly more serious, "Shame on you for putting Herdestir on the spot for such a long shot."
“No hard feelings Herdestir, it was worth a try,” Faramir half-apologized.
“No hard feelings,” agreed Herdestir. He seemed profoundly relieved that Faramir wasn’t seriously calling upon the blood brotherhood connection. Herdestir continued, “I don’t blame you for trying. If you were older, I’d want your help. Besides, if you don’t swing the stick, you’ll never catch the ball.”
This analogy referenced the Gondorian game of net ball, which the Arnorians referred to as ‘lacrosse.’ There was an upcoming informal lacrosse tournament between the young Arnorian rangers and the Gondorian squires. Legolas was playing on the opposite team to Faramir, for a change. He was an honorary northern ranger, and Faramir would have been a squire, if he weren’t the Steward and a prince. Well, and if Denethor hadn’t wanted Faramir out of sight, so he’d sent him to serve as a ranger lieutenant after his accelerated army graduation. Instead of appointing him to the safer position of knight's squire.
Dervorin offered to Faramir, “If you’ll give up on bothering poor Herdestir for information from his taskforce for, say, the next month or so, then we won’t even tell Aragorn that you asked.”
“Deal,” said Faramir, who didn’t want to face either disappointment or irritation from his father over such a small matter. Fortunately, the brainstorming time that he’d won by this gambit had given him another idea for what might have prompted Legolas’ ‘Look.’
Faramir theorized, “Herdestir, I think that we were worried that you might be upset with us.”
“Upset with the two of you? Whyever for?” queried the baffled Herdestir.
“For drawing Herion into fighting by our side during that melee duel, back during the Harvest Festival,” explained Faramir.
This must have been what the ‘Look’ was about, because Legolas wasn’t giving Faramir another irritated ‘Look’ on account of Faramir’s continuing obtuseness. Instead, Legolas now appeared both greatly worried and deeply apologetic as he awaited a reply from Herdestir.
“What?” gasped Herdestir, “Why, you poor lads, what possessed you to torment yourselves with worry over a silly thing like that? You should have come to me sooner. Of course I’m not angry with you, about that.”
“But, why not?” inquired the clearly confused Legolas, “You love your brother, and we got him arrested. Not to mention, Herion got into so much trouble with your Uncle Angbor!”
“I adore Herion, that much is true,” allowed Herdestir gently. “But I’m fond of all four of you. I also have trouble thinking badly of any of you for standing up for the honor of your friends and your parents. Besides, who hasn’t gotten into an unsanctioned duel or two?”
“Not you, apparently, my friend,” guessed Dervorin with a chuckle.
“Three duels, that I know of,” snitched Faramir merrily. “Herdestir was one of my brother’s crowd, after all.”
Herdestir laughed, “And that’s all you’ll ever know of, nosy boots. Well, at least from me.”
Faramir grinned, then turned to his friend, “See, Legolas, it’s like we told you. Dueling is a very winked at crime, here in Gondor. If it wasn’t for the Rose Fever relapse, we wouldn’t have been in as much trouble.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have been in as much trouble,” Legolas countered, “Gimli isn’t from Gondor.” Still, Legolas had a relieved smile on his face. Therefore, Faramir deemed this intervention to have been a credit to him, in his role as Legolas’ elder oath brother. Well, elder in relative age, as opposed to in years lived upon Arda.
Now, to be a good friend to Herdestir and Dervorin.
“Now that that’s settled,” began Faramir, “Legolas and I will give the two of you a few moments of privacy. Come, Legolas, let’s take our sketches and Dervorin’s books out onto the balcony.”
“What? Why?” wondered the bewildered Legolas.
Dervorin put a palm over his eyes and sighed as he said, “That’s really not necessary, Faramir.”
Meanwhile, Herdestir marveled, “How on Arda did you know, Faramir? We’ve been so careful to be discreet!”
“I wasn’t sure, until just now,” answered Faramir, while doing his best to hide his satisfaction at having made a successful deduction. “But you really should give him a private goodbye, Dev," Faramir advised solemnly. "Anything can happen, on a patrol to look for pirate slavers. Things can go from deadly dull to deadly dangerous in an instant.” Faramir had lost count, over time, of the friends he’d wished he’d said a better goodbye to, before they had left for their last patrol.
Dervorin’s gray-green hazel eyes softened, at that reminder.
Herdestir, meanwhile, was more stuck on the first part of what Faramir had said. He sounded as if he couldn't decide whether to be appalled or impressed as he remarked, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that, Faramir. That way I won’t have to report to your father how intimately acquainted you are with my itinerary.”
“Seconded, on that point,“ Dervorin concurred ruefully. Then he laughed and gestured towards his balcony, “Go on with you, Foxling. You and your partner in crime."
As Faramir closed the balcony door behind himself and Legolas, he prepared himself to answer the questions he expected to be forthcoming from his elven blood brother. At least one of which Faramir predicted that Legolas would promptly wish that he hadn't even asked!
The sight of someone kissing their sweetheart inevitably garnered a comical expression of disgusted dismay from Legolas. The same was true of even a vague allusion in a conversation to acts of passion between males and females.
Faramir didn’t expect that Legolas would be any more favorably disposed to hearing about the romance between Dervorin and Herdestir just because they were both males. Although Legolas might be surprised by the whole thing. After all, Faramir doubted that his elven oath-brother had been lucky enough to have someone like Boromir explain to him how some men preferred ‘spears to shields.’ Fortunately, Faramir had memorized Boromir’s comprehensive lecture regarding matters of romance and passion. It had been well received by Faramir’s peers at the army academy.
Consequently, Faramir was confident that he’d be able to answer any questions Legolas might have regarding what was going on in the room behind the balcony door. Although Faramir didn’t expect that he’d get very far into his explanation before Legolas would beg him to please stop talking.