3. The Library
“Pippin, come away from there before you make *more* of a mess,” sighed Merry.
“Don’t you order me about, Meriadoc. You are speaking to a knight of the City.” Pippin turned to Frodo, who was turning over one parchment after another. “You need a title, Frodo. Too bad you haven’t done much to earn one.”
“You’re right, Pip,” said Frodo with a smile. “Too bad Sam and I were so busy hiking and camping and making a nuisance of ourselves in Mordor that we didn’t get to be of much service.”
Faramir shook his head in amusement. He was growing accustomed to the light, teasing manner of the hobbits. “It is indeed regretful that you have performed no service for the City, Frodo,” he chuckled. “Else you, too, might be as honored as our esteemed Peregrin.” He sighed, growing more serious. “Are you certain you do not wish it?”
“Oh no,” groaned Frodo. “Not that again. Please, no more titles, honors, or threats of knighthood.” His eyes lit up suddenly. “You should knight Sam, Faramir! I suspect there is a lass back home who would----”
“Mr. Frodo,” Sam said, “I’ve already had enough ceremonies to last me a lifetime.”
“Sir Samwise,” said Pippin, coming forward and bowing to Sam. “I give you my cousin Meriadoc as your loyal esquire.”
“Please, Sir Samwise,” Merry fell to his knees before Sam. “Throw my cousin Peregrin into the dungeons until he shows me more respect!” He turned to Faramir. “You do have dungeons, do you not?”
“Do you, Captain Faramir?” asked Sam hopefully.
“I do not know that word, Sam,” said Faramir, “although it does not sound like a kindly place. I doubt King Elessar would permit my ‘throwing’ any of you anywhere, unless it is over my knee. And I shudder to think what Mithrandir might do to me. He is strangely fond of the lot of you.” Jesting in such a manner was beginning to come much more easily to him the longer these Halflings were about. So much so, he had begun to fear speaking thus at the wrong time, in front of the wrong people.
“This is hopeless.” Frodo was busy looking through a pile of scrolls. “We’ll never find it, Faramir, we should have asked Gandalf where he---- oh.” Suddenly Frodo’s smile disappeared as he stared at something in front of him.
Without a word, Sam, Pippin, and Merry grouped themselves around him, Faramir standing just behind them. Frodo gently ran his finger over the words on the scroll. Isildur’s words. The evil lettering from the Ring. There it was.
“This is it,” Frodo whispered. “Isildur was holding the Ring in his hand when he wrote this. I can almost feel…… it’s as if he’s still………” He looked around. “I need to sit down.” Sam immediately steered Frodo into a nearby chair.
“Isildur’s Bane,” murmured Faramir. Abruptly he pushed the scroll away and knelt next to Frodo. “Do not let the ancient ones haunt you, Frodo.” He motioned to the scroll. “That is all that is left of the Ring, and here it shall remain. Be at peace. There is nothing here that can harm you.”
Frodo took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you, Faramir. I believe you are right.”
Faramir rose to his feet. “Come, my friends, let us leave here. It is way past lunchtime, I believe.”
Pippin looked up at the Man with a smile. “I think you’re turning into a hobbit, Faramir. You’re even starting to sound like one!”
Faramir frowned. He *was* certainly jesting and eating more than usual. If these two Halflings could grow so tall, why couldn’t a Man……… “Peregrin, don’t joke about----”
“Check his feet, Pip,” Merry grinned. “There could be all sorts of fur under those big boots!”
“Meriadoc, I’m not finding this very amus----”
“Don’t worry, Faramir,” said Frodo comfortingly. “Éowyn will still love you. She likes all of us a lot, I can tell.”
Faramir gave a deep sigh. “I must consult with the King. If Minas Tirith is without a proper ‘dungeon’ one will be built by morning. I will see to it.”
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.