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rohansonA morning of intellectual pursuits was a lot to ask of Théodred. Even as rumpled and mussed as the Helvetica was, it was still a place of studious reading and discussions. Even Faramir was ready for something a bit more down to earth. He directed Théodred from the back of the bike, holding on tightly with one hand and pointing out directions with the other, until they pulled up in front of The Malthouse. Faramir knew the ale here was excellent, food would be plentiful, and recalled the large open fires that took any chill right out of the air.
Théo was impressed with the place and took in the details as Faramir ordered ale for them both. A quick glance at the menu was all it took to decide on what he wanted to eat. Their morning at the bookshop had left him ravenous, and a “Big Bang” sounded perfect. It also meant he could make his friend blush with the wink he gave him as he ordered. Faramir was so very easy to fluster. They chose a table by one of the fires, and sitting there with his friend reminded Théo a little of home, and of the many questions he now had after his frank discussion with Mer. He sat back and nursed his ale for a moment, wondering how best to broach the subject.
“Faramir, when do you come from? There are a few years between the times Mer and I come from. The man I know back in Rohan is younger than the man I meet here. So … where do you fit?”
Théo had brought up an interesting question. Faramir had noted the oddity of travelling to this land, and how all seemed to come from their own unique place in life back home. Faramir was also acutely aware of upcoming events in many of his friend’s lives… and was sworn to his own oath of not being a pawn in the changing of life events. For all he knew, this might be part of Morgoth's plans. Change the future, change the outcome of the war.
Faramir was hesitant to ask too many questions of Théo about the times he was living in back home, for fear of a conversation accidentally drawing out too much knowledge. But, hedging away from the subject would only provoke more curiosity from his friend. He would need to learn how to think carefully about his words, and tread a fine line between honesty and truth-hiding. 'I am thirty and six years old, both here and back in Minas Tirith. I spend most of my time in Ithilien with the Rangers, on patrols, but I do come home at times. Most of my shifting in draws me from the city." Faramir smiled thinly, thinking that it would not be any surprise for Theo to hear a bit more. "Considering my proximity at home to my father, it is … always quite tempting to take a respite in Wellington, with friends, or with my brother."
Théo nodded, understanding why Faramir would want to shift to escape his father. Denethor was someone Théo hated for the way he treated Faramir, and thinking about the situation always made him feel protective of the younger man … although here and now, that age difference no longer existed. “36? That makes us the same age, my friend!” But Théo’s other questions were forgotten for a moment when he realised what Faramir had said. “Your brother? Boromir travels here now? It has been too long since I last saw him. Faramir, please give him my regards.”
Faramir grinned. "Yes, he has found his way back, after far too long a time away." He thought about the time he travels from, and where it is in that time that Boromir was off adventuring. It was difficult for Faramir to think upon these times, and his beloved brother’s eventual, horrible outcome. He would rather focus on the present while speaking with Theo, basking in the vibrancy and life his brother brings to this place, and how much Faramir finds comfort in that. He realized he was lost in thought and snapped back to the present, giving Theo a sheepish apologetic look. "I will indeed give Boromir your regards, and perhaps we might all take an evening together, soon. I am sure he would enjoy time in Wellington in the company of an old friend.”
“I would like that. It would be good for Éomer to meet him also. He had many questions about your brother the last time we met here. Boromir passed through Edoras on a quest and Éomer was curious about him.” Théo sat and sipped his ale for a moment, pondering on how to phrase a question of his own that he thought Faramir may be able to answer. “I think you have researched our history, our world, Faramir, as well as the history of this world, more than you will admit to me.” Théo smiled at his friend. “I know you well enough to know that if you have been coming here for years, your natural curiosity will have got the better of you. And I have a question I wish to ask you, about what is to come.”
A waitress brought two heavily laden plates and set them down with an expression that seemed to imply that she did not serve this meal often. When she caught her breath, she took the two friend's order for a full pitcher of ale to compliment their meals, and left muttering something under her breath about how the pretty bodies always eat like fools. Faramir popped a bite of bacon in his mouth, stalling for some time before replying. "Of course you may ask anything of me, my friend. If I can answer you, I shall do my best."
Théo nodded in thanks, delaying his question with a mouthful of venison sausage that he heartily approved of. He sated his hunger before continuing. “I know that my father will fall under Wormtongue’s control. Mer and I talked at length about what has happened between my time and his, and on my return after that conversation, I rode for Edoras hoping to be able to stop it before it started. I was too late. My father no longer hears my voice with any clarity and I fear for my people if I act impulsively.”
Théo took a long drink of ale, and sat back. “I know that in Mer’s time, it has become a struggle to survive against the dark forces, and that we fight the battle from within as well as without.” Théo could see his old friend was growing nervous under his gaze, and reached out to touch his hand in reassurance. “I do not wish to know the outcome of great battles, my friend, secrets that you cannot reveal to me, or even my own fate.” He glanced across at the fire and watched the flames as he asked. “Does he survive whatever is to come?” Théo looked back at Faramir, his eyes bright. “Does he live?”
Faramir was genuinely startled. He'd been under the assumption that Théo was in blissful ignorance about future events, simply because Faramir had remained tightlipped. But Faramir could not control what Éomer might say to Théo, and rightfully so. "Thank you for not pressing me to tell you more than my heart will allow me to say."
"But your heart asks a question I can answer. Éomer will survive, and will indeed live a long and prosperous life, to Rohan’s relief and benefit. Rest easy on that count." Faramir quickly took up his beer so as to have an excuse to clear the lump in his throat. So many others would not live to see the eventual victory, including his own brother, and the man he shared a meal with, right here, right now.
Théo nodded and sat for a moment, gazing down into his own ale before looking up at Faramir. “Thank you.” He smiled, his heart lightened, relief unravelling the knot that had sat in his stomach for days. “Karl once told me that Mer lived to be an old man, but it was flung at me with malice in the middle of a heated argument and I did not think he spoke the truth. I wanted to hear it from someone I trusted.” He did not miss Faramir’s reaction to the question, but did not press him for the reasons behind it. He had seen that look in his friend’s eyes before, and wondered at the burden of foreknowledge that Faramir carried with him and how he bore it. So he curbed his natural curiosity and dug into his food, giving Faramir a moment to his thoughts.
"Karl is a man to be trusted, if Dave's opinion of him is a true one." Faramir’s natural curiosity tempted him to ask what they had been fighting about that would lead to such a statement, but pushed the urge aside. A deeper conversation might simply lead back to his own thoughts, feelings... knowledge, and Faramir preferred to stay as far from such things as he could.
A waitress checked on them, and soon, in spite of the horrifically calorie-laden meal they'd just polished off, they were both presented with huge slabs of Mississippi Mud Cake. Faramir grinned sheepishly at Théo. "I suppose I am just a little hungry today."
Théo shrugged. “Karl and I have worked through our differences since that day.” He did not elaborate, as his word was his bond, and he had promised never to speak of what had happened between them. Although he wondered, as he did now and then, how Karl was faring. “I do not think we will ever call each other friend, but we have come to an understanding.”
His eyebrows rose at the size of the cake, but he had no objection to digging into it. He first asked the server to bring him coffee to go with it so he could enjoy two of his favourite indulgences of this world together. Théo took a mouthful and savoured it. “You have fine taste, my friend!” He saluted Faramir with his fork and attacked the cake with enthusiasm.
"I may have fine taste, but I try to reserve them for special meals with special friends! If I ate like this every day, I think I would be the size of a cave troll in no time." Faramir dug into his cake with equal relish, happy to hear that Théo seemed to have no more questions, and that he had managed to find some sort of peace with Karl. He was very curious about what may have transpired, but did not press his friend further. More conversation might bring up more questions from Théo, and Faramir worried about that. "After our dessert, perhaps we could take a long walk on the waterfront, or else our bellies may very well keep us captive here forever."
Théo nodded his agreement and took his time finishing, relishing the tastes of chocolate and coffee, thinking that Mer would enjoy the food served here also. When he was done, he stretched, looking up as Faramir pulled on his jacket. “I often think it is fortunate that Paris is healthy and strong. The thought of shifting into the body of someone who has let it go to seed is one I do not like to dwell on, so yes, a walk to help keep his middle from spreading is a fine idea.” Théo grinned at his friend, and pulled on his own jacket before they headed off for some much needed exercise.
Théo was impressed with the place and took in the details as Faramir ordered ale for them both. A quick glance at the menu was all it took to decide on what he wanted to eat. Their morning at the bookshop had left him ravenous, and a “Big Bang” sounded perfect. It also meant he could make his friend blush with the wink he gave him as he ordered. Faramir was so very easy to fluster. They chose a table by one of the fires, and sitting there with his friend reminded Théo a little of home, and of the many questions he now had after his frank discussion with Mer. He sat back and nursed his ale for a moment, wondering how best to broach the subject.
“Faramir, when do you come from? There are a few years between the times Mer and I come from. The man I know back in Rohan is younger than the man I meet here. So … where do you fit?”
Théo had brought up an interesting question. Faramir had noted the oddity of travelling to this land, and how all seemed to come from their own unique place in life back home. Faramir was also acutely aware of upcoming events in many of his friend’s lives… and was sworn to his own oath of not being a pawn in the changing of life events. For all he knew, this might be part of Morgoth's plans. Change the future, change the outcome of the war.
Faramir was hesitant to ask too many questions of Théo about the times he was living in back home, for fear of a conversation accidentally drawing out too much knowledge. But, hedging away from the subject would only provoke more curiosity from his friend. He would need to learn how to think carefully about his words, and tread a fine line between honesty and truth-hiding. 'I am thirty and six years old, both here and back in Minas Tirith. I spend most of my time in Ithilien with the Rangers, on patrols, but I do come home at times. Most of my shifting in draws me from the city." Faramir smiled thinly, thinking that it would not be any surprise for Theo to hear a bit more. "Considering my proximity at home to my father, it is … always quite tempting to take a respite in Wellington, with friends, or with my brother."
Théo nodded, understanding why Faramir would want to shift to escape his father. Denethor was someone Théo hated for the way he treated Faramir, and thinking about the situation always made him feel protective of the younger man … although here and now, that age difference no longer existed. “36? That makes us the same age, my friend!” But Théo’s other questions were forgotten for a moment when he realised what Faramir had said. “Your brother? Boromir travels here now? It has been too long since I last saw him. Faramir, please give him my regards.”
Faramir grinned. "Yes, he has found his way back, after far too long a time away." He thought about the time he travels from, and where it is in that time that Boromir was off adventuring. It was difficult for Faramir to think upon these times, and his beloved brother’s eventual, horrible outcome. He would rather focus on the present while speaking with Theo, basking in the vibrancy and life his brother brings to this place, and how much Faramir finds comfort in that. He realized he was lost in thought and snapped back to the present, giving Theo a sheepish apologetic look. "I will indeed give Boromir your regards, and perhaps we might all take an evening together, soon. I am sure he would enjoy time in Wellington in the company of an old friend.”
“I would like that. It would be good for Éomer to meet him also. He had many questions about your brother the last time we met here. Boromir passed through Edoras on a quest and Éomer was curious about him.” Théo sat and sipped his ale for a moment, pondering on how to phrase a question of his own that he thought Faramir may be able to answer. “I think you have researched our history, our world, Faramir, as well as the history of this world, more than you will admit to me.” Théo smiled at his friend. “I know you well enough to know that if you have been coming here for years, your natural curiosity will have got the better of you. And I have a question I wish to ask you, about what is to come.”
A waitress brought two heavily laden plates and set them down with an expression that seemed to imply that she did not serve this meal often. When she caught her breath, she took the two friend's order for a full pitcher of ale to compliment their meals, and left muttering something under her breath about how the pretty bodies always eat like fools. Faramir popped a bite of bacon in his mouth, stalling for some time before replying. "Of course you may ask anything of me, my friend. If I can answer you, I shall do my best."
Théo nodded in thanks, delaying his question with a mouthful of venison sausage that he heartily approved of. He sated his hunger before continuing. “I know that my father will fall under Wormtongue’s control. Mer and I talked at length about what has happened between my time and his, and on my return after that conversation, I rode for Edoras hoping to be able to stop it before it started. I was too late. My father no longer hears my voice with any clarity and I fear for my people if I act impulsively.”
Théo took a long drink of ale, and sat back. “I know that in Mer’s time, it has become a struggle to survive against the dark forces, and that we fight the battle from within as well as without.” Théo could see his old friend was growing nervous under his gaze, and reached out to touch his hand in reassurance. “I do not wish to know the outcome of great battles, my friend, secrets that you cannot reveal to me, or even my own fate.” He glanced across at the fire and watched the flames as he asked. “Does he survive whatever is to come?” Théo looked back at Faramir, his eyes bright. “Does he live?”
Faramir was genuinely startled. He'd been under the assumption that Théo was in blissful ignorance about future events, simply because Faramir had remained tightlipped. But Faramir could not control what Éomer might say to Théo, and rightfully so. "Thank you for not pressing me to tell you more than my heart will allow me to say."
"But your heart asks a question I can answer. Éomer will survive, and will indeed live a long and prosperous life, to Rohan’s relief and benefit. Rest easy on that count." Faramir quickly took up his beer so as to have an excuse to clear the lump in his throat. So many others would not live to see the eventual victory, including his own brother, and the man he shared a meal with, right here, right now.
Théo nodded and sat for a moment, gazing down into his own ale before looking up at Faramir. “Thank you.” He smiled, his heart lightened, relief unravelling the knot that had sat in his stomach for days. “Karl once told me that Mer lived to be an old man, but it was flung at me with malice in the middle of a heated argument and I did not think he spoke the truth. I wanted to hear it from someone I trusted.” He did not miss Faramir’s reaction to the question, but did not press him for the reasons behind it. He had seen that look in his friend’s eyes before, and wondered at the burden of foreknowledge that Faramir carried with him and how he bore it. So he curbed his natural curiosity and dug into his food, giving Faramir a moment to his thoughts.
"Karl is a man to be trusted, if Dave's opinion of him is a true one." Faramir’s natural curiosity tempted him to ask what they had been fighting about that would lead to such a statement, but pushed the urge aside. A deeper conversation might simply lead back to his own thoughts, feelings... knowledge, and Faramir preferred to stay as far from such things as he could.
A waitress checked on them, and soon, in spite of the horrifically calorie-laden meal they'd just polished off, they were both presented with huge slabs of Mississippi Mud Cake. Faramir grinned sheepishly at Théo. "I suppose I am just a little hungry today."
Théo shrugged. “Karl and I have worked through our differences since that day.” He did not elaborate, as his word was his bond, and he had promised never to speak of what had happened between them. Although he wondered, as he did now and then, how Karl was faring. “I do not think we will ever call each other friend, but we have come to an understanding.”
His eyebrows rose at the size of the cake, but he had no objection to digging into it. He first asked the server to bring him coffee to go with it so he could enjoy two of his favourite indulgences of this world together. Théo took a mouthful and savoured it. “You have fine taste, my friend!” He saluted Faramir with his fork and attacked the cake with enthusiasm.
"I may have fine taste, but I try to reserve them for special meals with special friends! If I ate like this every day, I think I would be the size of a cave troll in no time." Faramir dug into his cake with equal relish, happy to hear that Théo seemed to have no more questions, and that he had managed to find some sort of peace with Karl. He was very curious about what may have transpired, but did not press his friend further. More conversation might bring up more questions from Théo, and Faramir worried about that. "After our dessert, perhaps we could take a long walk on the waterfront, or else our bellies may very well keep us captive here forever."
Théo nodded his agreement and took his time finishing, relishing the tastes of chocolate and coffee, thinking that Mer would enjoy the food served here also. When he was done, he stretched, looking up as Faramir pulled on his jacket. “I often think it is fortunate that Paris is healthy and strong. The thought of shifting into the body of someone who has let it go to seed is one I do not like to dwell on, so yes, a walk to help keep his middle from spreading is a fine idea.” Théo grinned at his friend, and pulled on his own jacket before they headed off for some much needed exercise.
