Author: Earmire/Nol CoAuthors
2004 Award Category: Races: Men: Post-War of the Ring - First Place
Story Type: Other Fiction ✧ Length: unknown
Rating: PG ✧ Reason for Rating: N/A
Summary: Over swordplay, dreams and academics, Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, makes a new friend.
Review scores are not available for 2004.
Reviewed by: Larian Elensar ✧ Score: N/A
Oh! What an interesting perspective. I guess Faramir could really see Eldarion's side of things. It must have been difficult to be Aragorn's oldest son. Glad that Faramir could help him through it. Well done.
Reviewed by: Dwimordene ✧ Score: N/A
I liked that Faramir finally got to transmit his own particular wisdom, which we so often quote and which Nol does as well in this fic: that it isn't the sword for its sharpness, nor the warrior for his glory, but only that which they defend that is to be loved. I liked, too, that Eldarion has his share of wanderlust-it seems only right, and that in a way, allowing Eldarion to follow it does keep him close to Aragorn, whom he loves enough to learn the lesson that Faramir has taught.
Reviewed by: Elanor ✧ Score: N/A
Up to now this is for me one of the best Forth Age stories. It has a series beautiful scenes and good language. I like very much the rendering of the relationship between wise and fatherly Faramir and strange Part-Elven Eldarion who has to get acquainted with his Gondorian birth land and heritage. Passages I liked most: Elboron's reaction to Eldarion's refusal to fight: It was rude, nay, downright wrong, that a misunderstood child be thought ill of for having the courage not to fight. Yes, for that was true courage. That was nobility. That was truth. Faramir's remembrances of joyous hours in the library: He remembered those days of joyous discovery, of dizzy pride and burning shame as he read through triumph upon triumph, followed by folly upon folly, recorded carefully in those bright, brittle pages. The sword-dance: But one could not watch this - this virtual ceremony of grace and speed and liken it to anything else, much as a flash of lightning could not be adequately described to one who had never seen it. Faramir's visions of sea-faring Eldarion. On deck stood a man, tall as any elven-king, his dark hair flowing down his back like a river of shadow. His eyes were bright with wisdom, and his face was as beautiful as one of the Eldar, and as he came forth, clad in black and silver, Faramir smiled, for the light seemed to come from within the man himself. He was one with it.