Title: Mistletoes - Lords A’Leaping
Author: The Artful Dodger / dodger_sister
Fandom: Lord Of The Rings
Category: Drabble, Fluff, Humor, Holiday
Characters/Pairing: Faramir/Eowyn & Aragorn
Spoilers: For the end of ROTK, I suppose.
Summary: Faramir greets his king in a most festive way.
Word Count: 337 words.
Date Written: 12/10/14
Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. I wrote this fic, just for fun. It’s the holidays, don’t sue!
Feedback: Bring it. dodger_sister / TheArtofDodger@comcast.net
Author's Notes: Part of my Mistletoes ‘verse, all written as holiday gifts for my Flisties. The shortest of the fics, but one I found delightful to write. Idk if I’ve ever even written fic with Faramir in it before!
Dedication: For the lovely lindahoyland, who asked for Aragorn & Faramir, friendship. Merry Christmas, darling!
Aragorn was waiting in the doorway to receive his wife, before heading down to dinner, when Faramir entered the room from the other side, dressed in grey garments and his best blue coat.
“My lord,” Faramir said and bowed before him.
“Our ladies will be along shortly, I presume,” Aragorn said with a smile.
“I presume, as well,” Faramir told him, his own smile fully in place.
He approached the king then, eyes locked somewhere over Aragorn’s head. Aragorn was just about to ask him whatever was he looking at when Faramir sank to one knee and took the king’s hand in his own, pressing a light kiss there.
“Faramir,” Aragorn said impatiently and pulled his friend to his feet. “You do not have to flatter me so. Especially when we are in private and not under the public gaze.”
“Beg your pardon, my lord,” Faramir said, “but it was less about the kneeling and more about the kiss.”
Aragorn raised an eyebrow at his friend and confidante. Faramir just chuckled and pointed upwards to the mistletoe hanging in the doorway over the king’s head.
“It seems the Winter Solstice decorations have gone up this day,” Faramir informed his king.
“Well then,” Aragorn said and grabbed Faramir by the shoulders, spinning him around until the younger man was standing in the doorway himself. “We ought to do this properly.”
It was Faramir’s turn to raise an eyebrow, just as Aragorn stepped out of his line of sight and there, entering the room in her lovely yellow dress, as bright as the sun and the lady herself, was Eowyn.
“My lord,” she said and curtsied to Aragorn, who was not so subtly gesturing upwards over Faramir’s head. “My husband,” Eowyn said with a tease.
She stepped forward and pressed the slightest of kisses to Faramir’s lips, let him sigh into it as he was apt to do, before pulling back.
“I do love this season best of all,” she said and next to them, Aragorn laughed with amusement.