An Unexpected Fanfiction: The Hobbit & LOTR One Shots

Eavesdropping

Requested by wonderful skyfaei! Thanks so much and I hope you like!

Type: one-shot

Pairing: Faramir x female reader

Hope you like!

Faramir was deeply in love with his best friend- and not a soul but he knew. Or so he thought.

Léowell was his closest pal, his chief confidant, partner in crime since they were very little. His father, the steward of Gondor, had hired both mother and daughter as servants in his palace many years ago. Léowell was ten and Faramir eight at the time of their first meeting. She was carrying a small barrel of damp clothes to be hung in the drying room around the corner when Faramir came scampering up the stairs behind her and crashed directly into her side. They each fell over with yelps and the barrel crashed to the ground. He stumbled to his feet, apologizing as eloquently as an eight-year-old royal could, and offered her a hand up. She snubbed his offer of assistance and stood up on her own, asking stiffly where he was running to so quickly. He hesitated and she voiced her presumption of his being in trouble, which he reluctantly admitted was correct. A shout in a deep voice echoed up the stairwell, sounding rather peeved, and young Faramir tensed up, looking ready to flee again, but Léowell stopped him.

"Hide behind that huge table," she instructed, pointing to a highly-decorated oak table leaned against the wall. It was to be moved into the dining hall later in the day, but for then, it made a perfect hiding spot. The young steward's son shook his head and crossed his arms, but as she frowned at him and the footsteps up the stairs grew quicker and louder, he relented and dove into the shadows beneath the leaning table. He was not a moment too soon, his father turning about the stairwell just in time to see Léowell heft her barrel onto her hip and start again on her way. He stopped her and questioned if she had seen Faramir anywhere as of now. She nodded, her eyes wide and reverent, appealing to the steward's sense of power. The young girl exaggerated her appearance of innocence and replied calmly that the young boy had fled down the corridor just behind her with no greeting to her but a smile. Denethor II huffed with annoyance and speed-walked away from her, grumbling to himself as he went to pursue his son. The young Faramir crawled out from under the table with a wide smile, ready to thank Léowell, but she was already gone with her barrel of clothes. He scratched his head and hurried down the staircase, aiming to hide in the stables until suppertime. 

That evening, Léowell was one of the servers for supper, and they shared a subtle smile as she heaped strips of braised pork onto his plate. That evening, Faramir told his older brother Boromir all about the servant girl who had helped him escape their father's wrath earlier. The older son of the steward of Gondor was quite impressed and requested to his brother that if he should cross paths with this girl again, to bring her to him so he could meet her too. And so, a week later, Faramir managed to catch Léowell on her way to the market. It was a Sunday and she had no work for the day, other than to fetch capers and a basket of pickled carrots from the market. He bade her wait a moment and hurriedly tracked down Boromir, and so the three of them set off down the winding path from the palace to the bustling white city below. 

A strong friendship grew between the three and as the years passed, she grew into a lovely young lady and the brothers into handsome young men. One fine morning, the trio went on a stroll through the hills just outside of the city. As Léowell danced in the breeze, seeming without a care in the world, her scarf, a birthday gift from her mother a few days ago, fluttered around her shoulders. The grasses weaved beneath her feet and Boromir confided in his younger brother that he had grown some small affections for their beautiful childhood friend. Aged eighteen now, Faramir only nodded and accepted the information calmly, although inside his heart burned with annoyance and desire. From what his brother said, he only had what most called a 'crush' on Léowell, and Faramir desperately hoped Boromir's simple puppy love would fade soon; the younger steward's son had, in fact, fallen in love with her, and he knew his feelings were true and ever so much stronger than his brother's.