fandomtownies | Streets of Fandom

Entry tags:

@streets,
faramir

Streets of Fandom - Saturday morning

Faramir led his horse by its rein, the earth soil under his feet became harder and he glanced down to see the road was paved all of a sudden and the scent of the ocean filled the air. He quickly glanced back and Mithrandir gave him an encouraging nod. Boromir's look was much darker, his eyebrows drawn together as he frowned. Faramir could easily read his concern, but he forced a smile on his face. He would be fine.

He turned his gaze back to the island that stretched out in front of him. The buildings were strange and the castle that looked out over the small city was build in a fashion Faramir hadn't seen before. He tugged Baru along and they crossed the bridge. To the side, there stood several armoured wains and Faramir couldn't imagine what use they'd have in battle as the drivers would be locked up in them.

Drawing in a breath, he glanced back behind him once more, but his brother and Mithrandir had disappeared and he knew with a strange certainty that if he were to cross, he wouldn't reach Gondor.

"On we go then. To the castle," he murmured to Baru. He stayed on foot, one hand on the rein and the other resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

[Open, sure sure. He could use directions to the stables.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Scully was starting her marathon training, in running pants and tank top, taking it easy. So she was on her second circuit of the island, jogging along, when she saw the guy with the horse in town. And armor. Ah, right. New student day.

"Hello," she said, stopping for breath, and nodding to the newcomer. "Nice horse. Are you a new student?"

Faramir would soon learn that the question wasn't all the peculiar. For now however, it caught him off guard, nearly as much as her attire did.

He brought Baru to a stand still and gave the girl a shallow bow in greeting. "My Lady. It is my first time being here," he replied. "I thank you for the compliment. He is a horse of Rohan and there are no better horses to find in the whole of Middle-earth."

Faramir was quite fond of his horse.

"Middle-earth," Scully repeated, and gave him a little bow in return, even if it made her feel mildly silly. She smiled though, and offered her hand to the horse to sniff. Too bad she didn't have any treats along. "I don't think I've heard of Rohan before. Welcome to Fandom. I'm Dana Scully."

"Thank you," he replied, loosening his grip on the reins so Baru could sniff her hand. "I am Faramir, son of Denethor. Have you perhaps heard of Gondor?"

Scully stroked Baru's nose, and shook her head, watching him carefully. "I can't say that I have. But there's a great many people at the castle from places very far away; someone else from Gondor might be there, and I wouldn't know it. I've only been here since the beginning of summer." She smiled at Faramir, then hesitated. "Have you heard of America? Or Maryland?" Better to find out how far away he was from, though judging by the horse and armor... "And if it's not too forward, are you in the military of some kind?"

"I am," he replied with a nod. "I am a soldier of Gondor. I haven't heard of any of those places," he said. "Perhaps I know them by another name. What would they be called in Sindarin?"

Oh, dear. Another unfamiliar word; Scully was fairly sure he must be from another world by now. She temporized, "I don't speak Sindarin, so I'm not certain. And you seem very young to be a soldier, at least for my home. Although many of the students here are also military or former military. I don't know who else has a horse." Patting Baru's nose, Scully let go of him. "But there are stables behind the main castle. And I know some of the students work there, and take good care of the animals."

Not everyone spoke Elvish, so Faramir didn't think much of it and he nodded slowly.

"I am of age," he said. "In these times, we need all the men we can gather to protect our borders. As the son of the Steward, I can be no exception."

He frowned a little. "I would take care of Baru myself, but they'll allow me to stable him there?"

"Yes, they'll definitely allow it," Scully said, then tilted her head. "Come on, I'll show you the way there. I was almost done with my run anyway."

She turned, reaching out for Baru's mane again, and said, "Did your father send you here?"

"Thank you," he gently tugged the reins to have Baru follow. Not that the horse needed encouragement as he seemed to enjoy the attentions.

"He did. He thought it would be of use to me," he replied, keeping his tone even while his fingers tightened on the leather straps. "Though, no one in Gondor appears to know what this land is like."

Scully caught that, but didn't comment. "Hmm. Well, the country we're part of is a democratic republic..." Given the armor and mention of stewards, and calling her Lady, that might be a head's up Faramir needed. "Fandom itself is a fairly small island, but it has a great many shops and restaurants, as well as a beach and a harbor. The school is the biggest building, that castle there. There's a hundred or so students. Today's the welcoming picnic." She smiled over at him around Baru's nose. "Lots of food. And very large crowds."

"Then I shall not be the only one standing out?" he guessed with some amusement. He let himself process what she was telling him, getting slowly used to her manner of speech.

"What is a democratic republic?" he asked after an instant.

"No, and everyone will guess that you're new, too, since it's such a small school. Most people know each other by sight pretty well," Scully said, giving him another small smile.

"A republic is a form of government where laws and political and military actions are enacted through representatives in a group; a democratic republic is one where those representatives have been elected through popular vote, not appointed or inheriting their positions," Scully explained. "It's not true for all the students here, but a slight majority are from places like America that have similar governmental systems. Others are from monarchies, or more complex systems." She raised an eyebrow at him in query. "Does that make sense?"

"I understand what you are saying," he said slowly. "I have heard before of places where a leader is chosen, but those are in smaller communities. To do so for a kingdom," he shook his head.

There was a reason Gondor had been without King for almost a millennium.

"We have very complex communication systems," Scully told him, then paused. "Although the idea was established when we didn't, about 200 years ago. A congress would meet and hold the election... anyway." She looked a little rueful. "We elect, or re-elect, a leader every four years here. But the representatives can serve for much longer. It provides some continuity." She tilted her head. "You mentioned that your father was a Steward. I don't think I've heard of such a position in government, before. Is that like a prince, or a military leader?"

They were just going to geek out on leadership and laws forever, weren't they?

It was quite possible.

"The Steward is the King's foremost counsellor," he said. "In his absence, the Steward would take over his position and rule in his name, having as much power as the King does." Faramir paused for an instant. "The king would pick his Steward from the House of Húrin, but it has been many centuries now since Gondor has been without Kind and the Stewardship has become hereditary much like the Kingship is."

"Interesting. And no one's suggested that the Stewards become Kings?" Scully asked, fascinated. "So your father is the de facto ruler, unless someone challenges your family's right to do so?"

Edited 2010-08-28 22:59 (UTC)

"He is the leader," Faramir agreed. "It is a hard question to answer if you are unfamiliar with the history of my world. Our Kings descend from the Númenóreans. They were great men who were rewarded with long life. Only they would be suitable to take up the kingship now. While there is some blood from the Númenóreans in my house, we never descended from the royal line and we have mixed too often with Lesser Men. No one would accept the Steward as a true king and so we wait."

Part of this seemed clear to Scully; his family would have no popular support if they made a claim at the throne. Pointless if they had the rule under another title, anyway. The other part... "Lesser Men? And I don't think I've heard of Númenóreans," she said, very carefully trying to pronounce that as they turned onto the school grounds.

"Men who didn't fight against the evil that was besieging Middle-earth at that time," Faramir explained. "They didn't receive the gift of long age and didn't not travel to the island Númenór. That is how they got their name."

It was a good thing Faramir had spent so much time listening to Mithrandir.

Ooo, and now there could be medical geekery. It was a very good thing Faramir was so well-read.

"What do your people consider long age?" Scully paused, and added, "Never mind. You probably don't measure years the same way we do, much less lifespans... although just so you know, this island has a 365-day year, and four seasons." She paused. "I sound like a guidebook."

"There are 365 days in a year in the Steward's Reckoning," Faramir replied with a bit of a smile. "It is not a bad thing to sound like when your companion is in much need for information. "It is not unheard of that some of the Kinds of Númenór reigned for almost two centuries."

"So our calendars do match up... 200 years?" Scully stopped in the yard in front of the barn, boggling. "Good grief. Our people can live until they're in their eighties, or even nineties, but a century is considered rare." She shook her head, then started walking again, pondering. "For fighting this-- evil? And how old are you, Faramir?"

He looked like he could be anywhere from sixteen to twenty, but maybe he was in his forties?

"Not two hundred," he laughed and glanced around at their surroundings. The buildings were as unfamiliar here as they had been in the town. "I am sixteen, and I shall never be two hundred either. How old are you, Lady Dana Scully?"

Scully gave him an amused look, and said, "Dana's fine. Or Miss Scully, if you have to be formal." So odd. And half the oddness was just not being Agent Scully any more, and dealing with that. "I'll be sixteen in six months."

Yes, that meant she was fifteen. For very large values of fifteen.

He inclined his head towards her as he rubbed a hand down Baru's neck.

"Dana then," he agreed and nodded towards the barn. "These are the stables then?"

"Welcome to them. I don't know what the protocol is, but at a guess, any stall that doesn't have a horse in it probably isn't taken." She smiled, and gave Baru one last pat. "I'll leave you to get him settled in. I hope we talk again, after you've gotten used to the place yourself."

"It would be a pleasure," he said sincerely, giving her another bow. "Thank you for your guidance."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Streets of Fandom - Saturday morning

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject