A Face in the Crowd: Faramir

Chapter Thirteen - The King is Crowned

A/N: I forgot to say in the last chapter that of course there was a poem from Tolkien featured, which is obviously not my own work. Everything else was! The same goes for this one, some text that characters speak is taken from The Return of the King, and is the property of the Tolkien estate.

Keren awoke the next morning with more energy than she had felt for a long time. After the elf had gone she had found her way back to the healers' tent where she had slept undisturbed, and woken with a clear head and bright eyes, unlike Palen who was nursing the effect of too much ale the night before. She set to work with a new-found determination to not just survive, but flourish.

Thus the days passed at Cormallen. She did find her mind wandering to Faramir, particularly late at night, or when the days were quiet, but usually she had something to occupy her time. Every few days men returned to the camp after scouting the surrounds, and sometimes they were sorely wounded, for the enemy were not willing to leave without a fight. 

The girls did, however, have some free time, and this they spent in each others' company. Beregond and Dannor were often with them too, and Palen even visited their father every other day. Keren joined her when the mood took her.

Some of their happiest hours at Cormallen were spent in the company of the hobbits. Keren did not realise how much the youngest, Pippin, had befriended Beregond, and often the three of them would sit sharing funny tales and jokes. Merry would sometimes join them, and after some encouragement, the two others.

Keren did not know how to act around Frodo and Samwise – they were far quieter than their companions, although still quick to smile, and had as great an appetite for food and beer. They did not speak of their time in the Black Land, nor was she sure that she wanted to hear of it, but it was clear that they shared a strong bond after their trials.

Keren, Palen and Dannor would sit silently in awe as they shared tales of their adventures, and listened with quiet respect as they described their homeland.

The girls knew that their grandmother, who Keren had been named after, had been born in Bree. It was, they were amazed to discover, where the hobbits had met the King, although he had been in a different guise then.

When they asked the girls why the family had ended up so far to the south they could not answer, for their mother had never shared the tale. Listening to the story of the hobbits' journey, however, made them realise how far their ancestors must have travelled.

As the days passed into weeks, most evenings the small group of two girls, four hobbits and two men would meet. Keren always looked forward to her time with them, but as time went by she began to notice something that troubled her. Beregond, rather than becoming more joyful at the prospect of his return home, seemed on edge and anxious. Whenever mention was made of the city, or of Faramir – during which times Keren fought desperately hard to remain indifferent – he would grow grim and silent. Once even a flicker of fear passed over his face, and she longed to ask what troubled him.

She waited for a quiet moment as they were leaving the hobbits' tent one night, but he brushed off her question. She did not press the matter further, but continued to watch him.

Almost two weeks had passed when the last of the troops returned from Mordor. Their grim faces were proof of the dark forces that still lingered there. It was through these men that Keren witnessed the King's healing once more. As much as she could heal their physical wounds there was little she and her fellow healers could do to cure their low spirits as he could. Keren thought that he worked a kind of magic, and once she was even tempted to ask him if he could cure the pain in her heart. But the elf's words came back to her.