fandomhighdorms | Stables - Saturday morning

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Stables - Saturday morning

Faramir had not attended the dance, but he had little regret as he had spent a pleasant evening in Maladicta's presence. Perhaps he was a little disappointed at the lack of dress or suit, but he was confident that he would get other opportunities to enjoy that particular view.

At least, if his father did not call him back to Gondor sooner. He was grooming Baru after his morning ride and considering how he would be spending the day. There were a pile of books waiting to be read, or he could find Maladicta, but then he did not wish her to grow tired of him.

"What say you?" he asked Baru who merely continued eating his apple.

[For one and one, because everyone's doing it, but the stables are open, of course.]

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After being unable to find his mother at the most obvious location, Beren moved onto where he might find his father. The library had been next on his list after this, but he'd managed to get lucky.

"Father?" he called from the doorway, staying outside just in case.

That was not a call that you heard much around the school. As far as Faramir had observed, there were few children on the island and there was no other person in the stables but him right now.

He patted Baru on the neck before he left the horse's box. "I fear that there is no one else here," Faramir replied. "Who are you looking for, boy?"

Oh sure, confuse the poor boy.

Beren frowned, glancing around to be certain it really was only him before darting in. "You smell like my father then," he replied cautiously.

That was a rather uncommon observation and Faramir blinked at the child.

"Perhaps I know him," he offered kindly, squatting down to be level with the boy. "What is his name? Is he a teacher here?"

"I do not believe so," Beren replied solemnly. "He is a prince and steward of Gondor."

It was the first time he had met anyone who knew of Gondor and if he did not know for certain that his brother was down in Osgiliath, he would have thought this a jest on his part.

"I happen to know the Steward of Gondor, and he has but two sons. Both much older than you," he told the boy gently. Prince, that was another matter. That title was not his father's or any of the house of Húrin to wear. "What is your name?"

"Beren." He sniffed again, almost certain this was his father.

Faramir could not help the smile. "That is a good strong name. It is a pleasure to meet you, Beren," he told the boy. "I bet that you are as brave as your namesake. How about we try to find your father?"

"If you would not mind," Beren said, reaching out to cling to Faramir's hand before that could even be finished.

Hey, he was lost and confused. It was allowed.

Which would be when someone in a cloak arrived in the stables. And shot them both a look.

"What," Maladicta said primly. "Is going on this weekend?"

"It appears young Beren here has lost his way," Faramir said, squeezing the boy's hand reassuringly. "I was about to help him find his father, the Steward of Gondor." He shot Maladicta a signification look.

"Beren, I would like you to meet Maladicta. She is my friend."

"He also lacks a heartbeat," Maladicta replied, moving closer with all the grace befitting a vampire from Discworld. Minus the horrible accent.

"But there are none such as you in Gondor," Faramir objected, studying the boy for a while longer. He had the boy's cold hands down to the cold outside, but even now a chill remained even if it was not quite the same as Maladicta's touch.

Beren frowned at her and then back at him. "I've found my parents now," he said quietly.

"...I loathe this island."

Faramir stared at the boy, attempting to process the words.

"I'm no steward," he objected. He was no prince either. Or a father, perhaps that was the part he should be objecting to.

Beren responded by clinging to his leg. As one does when confronted by this.

CLING LIKE THE WIND, BEREN.

"And I'm no mother," Maladicta snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. There might have even been a hiss in there as she forgot herself.

Yet the boy seemed to think differently and Faramir could not deny a child clinging to his leg. He reached out, stroking the boy's hair and leaned down to pick him up.

"It will be alright," he promised, even if he did not know how. He was tempted to ask the boy if he was certain, but that seemed a needless question.

Maladicta took a breath that she didn't need for anything more than show. "This would explain the surge in heartbeats in the dorms," she muttered. "Do you know how to care for a child?"

There was a panicked look at suggested he was not going to let her abandon him. "Not one like him," he said quietly, even if there was little chance for the boy not to hear.

...well, there was that.

"Boy." Maladicta, be kind. "What do you eat?"

Beren's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at his mother. "Coffee?" he said, his arms tightening around Faramir's neck.

Somehow Faramir's panic subsided, making way for amusement at the answer. "Perhaps we should have been able to guess that."

Maladicta narrowed her eyes one last time before giving the boy an awkward pat on the head. "Do you need some? I have a fresh pot in my room."

Children lacked self control, damn it. Best to keep him happy.

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