Frodo bounded up the stepstool next to the high bed and launched himself into Faramir’s arms. Faramir held him in one arm, burying his nose in Frodo’s sweetly-scented curls. Feeling a surge of energy, he watched Ioreth slip from the room and then turned to Frodo.
“Here, love, Happy Yule,” he said, and placed the package in Frodo’s hands.
Laying his gift to Faramir to one side, Frodo eagerly pulled the ribbon from the parcel. He gasped as he laid open the wrapping to reveal a journal, thick creamy parchment pages bound in embossed hand-tooled leather. “Faramir, I’ve never seen such a beautiful book,” he exclaimed, running his fingers over the elaborately decorated binding.
“I know you haven’t had time to write as much as you like since we came to Ithilien,” said Faramir. “And if you are to be the chronicler of our new history, I wanted you to have something worthy of the subject.”
Touched, Frodo leaned over and kissed Faramir warmly, refusing to let him pull back when Faramir tried to hold him off with a warning, but clinging all the more tightly.
“Now, open yours!” Frodo urged, bouncing excitedly on the bed.
Pulling the paper off the scroll, Faramir cautiously unrolled the vellum document. Under his hands appeared a large map of Ithilien, drawn with great care and detail, including all the new settlements they had established. The script was beautifully detailed, almost elven in style, and the work had obviously involved extensive time and labour.
“Frodo, is this your own work?” Faramir cried out. At Frodo’s modest nod, Faramir said, “This is a most exquisite piece of art. It must have taken you forever!”
Frodo flushed becomingly and shook his head.
Faramir could not get enough of looking at the cunningly etched mountains and rivers. He noticed that Hennuth Annun remained unnamed. In its place was merely a suggestion of a spring, as they had agreed to keep the secrecy of the caves intact.
Frodo nestled up under Faramir’s arm. “In the spring, could we return to the caves, just the two of us? I could imagine no more romantic place to spend time.”
Surprised, Faramir looked down at him. “Do you not have bad memories of that place? After all, it was there I held you prisoner, there I was tempted to take the Ring.”
“No, because you did not take the Ring. My memory is of moonlight over the Forbidden Pool and the place I saw you become the leader you are today.”
Tiring, Faramir placed a kiss on the top of Frodo’s head and slid the two of them down to lie quietly together. As he slipped into a doze, Faramir thought drowsily of the two of them working together, he himself providing material for Frodo’s map while Frodo kept a record of the new civilization they were establishing for the good of all.
~end~
