The Married Life - 3
by [M]ad[C]at and Heri
A week later...
It's a weekend, and the couple has invited Aragorn and Arwen to their home. Before the guests arrive, the
Eowyn tries her best to make the house presentable. Faramir is still in bed.
Eowyn: (Vacuming the floor) Faramir? Faramir are you up yet?
No response.
Eowyn: FAZ YOU LAZY GIT, GET UP AND TAKE A BATH! ARAGORN'S COMING!
Faramir finally wakes up.
Faramir: (Groggily) Wha, wha..? Oh, hi. Is breakfast ready?
Eowyn growls in frustration.
Eowyn: We arranged to have a barbecue, so we didn't have any breakfast, remember?
Faramir: *Yawn* Oh.. okays. (Goes back to sleep)
Eowyn starts walking toward the bed, attempting to drag her husband to the bathroom, but before she reaches Faramir, he
suddenly wakes up.
Faramir: Oh, yeah. Bathroom, here I come.
~*~
Mid-day. Faramir and Eowyn are both showered and dressed acceptably, and are watching the palantir while
waiting for Aragorn and Arwen. The doorbell rings.
Faramir: (Jumping up) It must be them!
He opens the door and sees Aragorn and Arwen holding bags filled with food. The two couples greet each other
enthusiastically and the hosts bring the food to the kitchen. While the women prepare them, the men go outside
for a chat.
Faramir: So, boss! How are ya?
Aragorn: (Covering head with his hands) Faramir, do me a favor and don't call me 'boss' when
we're outside the government building, 'K?
Faramir: Okie-day.
Aragorn: (Stares at Faramir) What?
Faramir: I said 'Okie-day', why?
Aragorn: Nothing... (Changes subject) So! Anything to do around here?
Faramir: Well, there's the palantir.. but there's nothing interesting on. Did you see the
Middle-earth Dwarf Tossing championships last week? 10,000 yards, man! Woot!
Aragorn: (Waves it away) That's nothing. I saw a 15,000 one two months ago.
Shoulda seen that one.
Faramir: There is?!
Aragorn: Yep. And I got a 18,000er in the Gondor Game Master. Record throw, that is.
Faramir: You lie! I got a 16,000 myself after a thousand tries.
Aragorn: I did. Course, you gotta be a king to do these sorts of stuff...
Faramir: Nope, sorry, not buying it. Anything can happen. I'll make a 18,500er right here,
right now. What d'you say?
Aragorn: (Lazily) Bring it on.
Faramir runs off to get his Game Master.
An hour later, the men can be seen riveted in front of the palantir, jabbing at their controllers as if their lives
depended on it.
Faramir: Come on... come on...
Aragorn: No, using that stroke isn't good enough. Also gives your player strain in the muscles.
Try the two-handed approach.
Faramir: Yeah yeah, I'm working on it.
Eowyn steps out of the kitchen with Arwen and calls out to the boys, while Arwen carries the food to the barbecue pit.
Eowyn: Boys, lunch!
Faramir: Wait a while, dear, I'm going to get that one straight...
Eowyn sighs and begins to walk to the main plug, trying to turn it off.
Faramir: All right, it's getting there... GO, GO, GO! YESS... HERE IT COMES...
15,000! 16,000! 18,000! 19... NO!!
Faramir looks in disbelief at Eowyn, who succeeded in pulling the plug out. She tosses it on the sofa and
goes out to the backyard.
Eowyn: Better catch up, or no food for you.
Aragorn begins moving off to the barbecue.
Aragorn: (Patting Faramir's shoulders) Better luck next time. Maybe when you've
perfected that move, you could come over to my place and show me.
Aragorn leaves. Faramir stares dazedly at the now-blank palantir for a few seconds. Finally, he
gets up.
Faramir: Oh well... maybe next time. Gosh, I'm all hungry after the excitement.
He goes out to see if there's anything edible.
Chapter 1|
Chapter 2|
Current|
Chapter 4|
Chapter 5|
Chapter 6|
Chapter 7|
Chapter 8