A Face in the Crowd: Faramir

Chapter Fifteen - Out of Control

"Your father led his armies bravely, and in time, although with many losses, the enemy was defeated."

"And my father?"

"Survived, and is well. I have seen him."

"He agreed to meet with you?" Legolas was shocked that Thranduil had either ventured out of his realm or had allowed another in.

"We met in the southern woods, now called the Golden Wood of the East, for the Hill of Sorcery is destroyed. The woods to the north, your father's lands, he has renamed The Wood of Green Leaves."

"Green leaves?"

Celeborn smiled.

"Father renamed his land after me?" Now Legolas was truly dumbfounded.

"One day you may rule it, and he is reminding all of that fact," Celeborn replied. "Including you, I imagine."

The younger elf's face grew grave.

"Of course," Celeborn went on with a smile, "it could also be because he loves you, and is proud of you."

"Of course," Legolas said quietly as Celeborn retreated back to his wife.

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"I'm not wearing it."

Keren was sullen, and beginning to panic.

"Well what else do you have that's suitable?" asked Palen, knowing the answer would be nothing.

"I am not. Wearing. It."

Palen sighed.

"Do you want to go?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to go in your shift?"

"No."

"Then you're stuck."

"Palen." Keren reached the end of her tether. "You know why I can't wear it, you know he will be there, you know it'll remind him of - "

"It's just a dress, Keren," Palen said. "He won't remember what you were wearing, it was months ago now."

But Keren knew that he would, for she would never forget the way he had looked at her the first time he laid eyes on her - the look of surprise and wonder on his face when he saw her in the forest green gown that had once been her mother's. She had believed she was fulfilling her prophecy, and for a few wonderful days it appeared to have worked. Still, sometimes, in the quiet of the night, she clung on to the old belief, and a tiny voice rose up in her now, despite all the heartache and pain.

Wear it again, let him remember, let him see, perhaps it will wake him up to the truth. Then he can leave her and remember he's supposed to be with you. It's been foretold, Keren, foretold. Trust the prophecy.

"No," Keren said to herself in the mirror, for the prophecy had lied, and led her to nothing but sorrow and regret over the time she had wasted on her juvenile fantasies.

"Well then, don't go." Palen had assumed her younger sister was talking to her. "Don't go. Sit here and be bored. Or sit here and agonise over what you might be missing. Either way you're not going to have fun."

Keren knew that she either had to turn up to the royal wedding feast in her work clothes, or wear the fated gown that she now associated with total disaster. Or she could do as Palen said, and spend a miserable evening alone. She did not want to seem ungrateful – she and Palen were the only healers, other than Ioreth and the warden, who had been invited. But she really did not think she could face Faramir in the same guise that she had thought would win his heart. How would he react? With amusement, disdain, pity, or anger? Or worse – would he really have forgotten it? Would it mean nothing? She sighed and looked down on it as it lay innocently on her bed. It was so beautiful, and she knew Palen was jealous that it did not fit her. And it did look well on her, setting off the different tones of brown in her hair, and the paleness of her skin.