Chapter Text
Éowyn was starting to get mightily annoyed.
The young (he looked young, even if he was not) elf was good looking, she would give him that, but even that could not be enough reasons as to why Éowyn should allow him to keep staring at her like a creepy shadow.
She had tried to ignore it at first, but the piercing icy blue gaze was unrelenting, and it had taken all her willpower to not spit on his face like she had done with that lowly creature, Wormtongue.
But she could not, for he was one of the queen’s companions, and a dear friend of the king, and it was unseemly of the Lady of Rohan to step that low to punish a crime she could not even prove.
She tried to leave his line of sight, but could still feel the weight of it. Elves and their damned heightened senses!
What did he want? A dance? A kiss? Whatever it was, he should just come forward and tell her. The worst she could do is to slap him, if she deemed his request inappropriate enough.
“What is it that has you troubled, my lady?”
She smiled a little, hearing her beloved voice from behind.
She did not turn around, and kept staring ahead. She didn't want to lock eyes with him.
Faramir’s fingers were laced between her own as he stepped forward so that they were eye to eye, and she huffed.
“Will you not tell me, so I can fix it? I'm ill at ease if you are so, Éowyn.”
Éowyn looked up finally, gazing at his stormy grey eyes and found some amusement there, but mostly concern.
She sighed and relented.
“One of the Queen’s companions, the elves of Rivendell, I mean, has been staring at me all through the feast. I tried to move, so that he would stop, but I can still feel his eyes on me. I'm not sure if we can do anything without offending the queen and Lord Elrond.”
Her hopeless tone made him frown, and before she could stop him, he raised his head not so subtly, searching for the elf in question.
It was not hard to find him, as there were not many elves in the great hall to begin with, and not many shared his colorings, except Queen Arwen’s grandfather, Lord Celeborn.
And the fact that he was still staring at he–no, them, didn't help it.
She frowned and followed the line of his gaze. Was he staring at Faramir now? What for?
The look in his eyes was not of hatred and the feeling of rivalry, like she had expected.
She blushed a little. Had she really thought one of the elves and one as handsome as him would look upon her that way?
Her embarrassment of her wild guesses was soon to be forgotten, when the hand holding hers let go, and Faramir began walking away.
Towards the king and the queen.
“Faramir! What are you planning?”
She hissed, but was ignored completely as her lover walked gracefully in between the crowd like it was a game, leaving her behind.
She cursed softly before following after him with more difficulty.
How is he so fast?
By the time she could find his mop of dark hair again, he was by Elessar’s side.
The king’s smile dropped and he frowned as Faramir whispered something in his ear.
Together, they gazed upon the pillar the elf had been leaning against all this time.
He was gone.
=====
Bilbo was having a very splendid evening, if anybody asked him.
Frodo and the lads were still somewhere in the great hall, celebrating, or to put it in better words, drinking the king's ale supply dry.
Not that Bilbo had anything against ale, quite the contrary. He found it delightfully refreshing after only drinking the wine provided at the table of Elrond.
Not to be taken as a slight against the elvish liquor, for Bilbo would have preferred to have that one at his disposal towards the end, as the lords and ladies of Minas Tirith talked his ears off, asking about his journey with the dwarves, and living all those years, being in the possession of the blasted ring.
Couldn't they all just wait for his book to be finished? Inconsiderate, the lot of them.
Here in his room, though, he didn't have to deal with any of them. Just smoking his pipe and gazing at the moon. It did look awfully nicer from this height, but he still preferred the eagle's back.
The soft knock on his door made him jump.
By his mother's silver spoons! Who was that? Couldn't he be left in peace?
“Good gracious! Who is it? Can't you leave this poor old hobbit alone?”
A familiar annoying chuckle could be heard from behind the door, and Bilbo's frown deepened.
“Well, come in then, your highness. I do wonder why you'd forsake your bride on the eve of your wedding, but I suppose someone as unmarried as me cannot be a marriage expert.”
The door was pushed open, revealing the king of Gondor in all his glory, bearing a fond and exasperated smile, followed by the couple he remembered young Peregrin and Meriadoc talking about; the Shieldmaiden of Rohan and the new Steward of Gondor, the younger brother of the poor fellow, Boromir.
Well, that was a strange meeting all right. What could they all possibly want from him?
The smile on Elessar’s face appeared to be forced now.
“I'm sorry to disturb your peace, old friend. But I fear this could not be delayed. Do not worry for Arwen, I should return to her shortly but first, tell me this. Have you seen your silver shadow at all this evening? I fear I must have a word with him.”
Bilbo's eyebrows raised to his hairline. Now, what was that all about? What had the lad done again?
“And why is that so, pray tell? Either way, I have to disappoint you. I haven't seen him since we broke our fast together this morning.”
Aragorn looked disappointed, and Bilbo noticed the otherwise calm looking Faramir frowning a little, and he spoke for the first time.
“I do not mean any disrespect, but does your friend make a habit of staring at maidens and making them uncomfortable?”
Bilbo's eyes widened, a strange smile on his lips.
“Quite the contrary. I don't think I have seen him look at a maiden twice, ever. But I have not known him for long, and he is by no means young.”
His eyes turned sad though, as he peered at the couple.
“What I do know is the reason for what he had done, but it is a long story, and I am too old to be kept up by you youngsters all night. What I can assure you of is he means no harm to you and your lady, or the love you bear for each other. Come back tomorrow for brunch. I will talk then, and you will understand. Now, if you please,” He looked at his now spoiled pipe in disappointment, before discarding it on the table “I wish to get some rest. You know the exit.”
The bewildered king and couple left wordlessly, closing the door behind themselves.
Bilbo could not go to sleep though, mind occupied with the thoughts of his promise and his shadow who had gotten himself into new trouble in a wedding of all places.
“Stupid boy…”
He muttered fondly, lying on his back on the soft mattress.
=====
True to his words, Bilbo was ready for Faramir and Éowyn when they arrived an hour before noon, a generous spread of sweet and savory dishes on the table. The grumpy hobbit was not quite as grumpy anymore, now that he had rested, and Éowyn found herself strangely endeared by this.
“Well come in! The tea would get cold. There's plenty of it too, for we need many refills if we want to get through all of my story.”
“Story?”
She couldn't help but exclaim loudly. What story could be behind the creepy stares of an elf?
She let go of Faramir's hand, sitting down on the chair opposite of Bilbo. Faramir took the seat next to her, just as confused.
Bilbo, as if reading her thoughts, gave her a sympathetic smile. Faramir poured them all a cup of tea while Bilbo stuffed his face with sausages at a quite dangerous speed. She was still amazed by how much a hobbit could eat.
He looked up finally, finding their gazes on himself. He sighed, but left the food alone, but not before giving a longing look at the poached eggs he had yet to touch.
“Yes, a story, and an interesting one at that. The lad… he… he did not mean to make you uncomfortable, and I'm sure he's very sorry, which is why he has been missing since last night. He will turn up in his own time, and apologize to you both, but I thought if you know why, you'd be more likely to forgive him.”
The couple shared a look and turned back to the old halfling.
“We will hear you.”
Bilbo nodded contentedly, and cleared his throat.
“Well, this all started back when the world was yet young, and elves were even more numerous than those of your race. Us hobbits were nowhere to be found, which is a pity. We have turned out to be awfully helpful in dealing with the evils of the world.”
He looked at them before continuing.
“Our story begins in the halls of Felagund, lord of the Caves…”