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"And you would be shocked at the meals we were forced to eat!" Pippin waved his hand at the breakfest feast. "Gondor understands breakfasts. And second breakfasts."
“On that subject, I did find some questions I could not answer.” Faramir said slowly, not wishing to comment that the cooks only bothered cooking for the Hobbits these days as both himself and Aragorn preferred... lighter meals.
“Minis Tirith has collected lore on near everything imaginable, but nothing more than bare descriptions on Hobbits.”
“Oh?” Frodo’s head cocked, pale and drawn features lighting a bit in shared interest. Pippin used the distraction to steal his pastry, completely missing Merry stealing some of his sausages, while Sam glared at both and quickly replaced Frodo’s stolen food with a significantly larger pastry.
“What is that?” Frodo continued
“Well...” Faramir half paused, watching the continuing dance of stolen food, before deciding to follow Frodo’s lead and not acknowledge the unfolding drama and warring forks. “I understand that hobbits have large families...”
“Oh yes,” Frodo smiled softly, “when I stayed in Brandybuck Hall, I couldn’t count all of my cousins and aunts and uncles.”
“Not to mention third cousins twice removed on your father’s side and first cousins nephews on your mother’s.” Merry reminded.
Faramir noted with interest that he had ended up with all of the sausages. Which was a rather large pile of meat since the serving platy was suspiciously empty. Instinct had the man curling an arm protectively against his plate off food. A much smaller portion of food but still. Never get between a hungry Hobbit and a surplus of food.
“But you lived with your uncle?” Faramir asked carefully. “From listening, I understand it was just the two of you.”
Frodo’s cheek flushed, somewhere in between the suddenly well fed and healthy flush of cheeks and embarrassment, face falling. Just the tiniest bit uncomfortable while Merry looked amused and Pippin grinned.
“If that was an improper question, I apologize.” Faramir said quickly, “In Gondor most families will try for two children. Some will have more but that is more common if... there is a blessing of girl children.
“Oh no.” Pippin broke in, grin widening and eyes sparkling happily. “Baggins have always been of the smallest Hobbit families. Everyone still wonders why Frodo’s mum wed Drogo Baggins, when she always wanted many children. Second Auntie Hattie, says that Baggin’s are good for a boy but no more.”
“Peregrin Took!”
Pippin squawked, jumped, and tried glaring at both of his normally spoiling cousins, only to be glared down by superior disapproving looks, Samwise n the other hand was turning more red than he had ever thought possible in a mortal.
Frodo grabbed Faramir’s attention again with his continuing glare of disappointment. When Hobbits get offended it’s hard to surpass the sheer amount of malevolence in their glares.
If they ever looked at Faramir like that he might rethink preferring to have gone against Sauron.
“Did you mother teach you any manners!” Merry demanded, Pippin slid further down in his seat, guilty stuffing another sweet in his mouth.
Possibly to keep from saying anything else foolish.
“I apologize on my cousin’s behalf,” Frodo began stiffly. Still eyeing Pippin with soul sucking disappointment. “He is the baby of the family, and forgets that there are younger.”
“It is not uncommon here.” Faramir said slowly, attempting to ignore the slight blush heating over his cheeks, and gave Peregrin a soothing smile. “Boromir talked of many...friends, yet beget no children. I am not insulted by such talk.”
There was a long moment of silence. The kind that normally meant that his audience had gone back to Boromir before he noticed and finished speaking.
The Hobbits appeared blank. As if sheer shock had caused them to faint like the elves with open eyes. Merry and even Pippin in particular seemed particularly shocked, perhaps horrified, though at what Faramir could not guess.
“But-but Boromir was so-” Merry exchanged glances, part horrified and part wounded shock, with the other hobbits including Samwise. “He was a child! Who would have let him-”
“Ahh.” Faramir looked perplexed, he felt perplexed more than he could ever show, and still the Hobbits were staring as though he was the one saying strange things. “Boromir was an experienced warrior. With all that goes along-”
“Faramir!” Pippin gasped, sending his plate of sweets flying as he vaulted across the table to wrap his smaller body around the man’s in a tight hug.
One tight enough Faramir was ready to panic and the loss of breath.
Until Pippin backed off, staring him eye to large shocked eye, hands clasping Faramir’s cheeks in place.
“You haven’t had mated with anyone have you?”
Samwise choked. In his side view, Faramir saw a piece of unidentifiable food fly off, and Merry leaning around Frodo to bang on the gardener’s back. Frodo who looked more bloodless than when he had first seen the Hobbit after the Ring’s destruction, between them.
Faramir had flushed amidst the shocked Hobbits, unknowingly a deeper red than Sam had, and learned that avoiding eyesight was difficult when one’s face was between another’s hands. Small hands yes, but even with embarrassment thrumming through his veins, Faramir could never upset the childlike and happy Hobbit.
“I have had little opportunity.” Faramir’s flush creeped down and under his loose shirt. “With a partner of any gender or standing.”
Pippin crushed Faramir’s face to his chest, his squeal of joy causing dogs on lower sections of the city to howl in pain, jumping back up and racing down the table.
The top of the table, pausing only long enough to grab one of his thrown pastries. And even the other Hobbit’s appeared relieved. Though why Faramir was long past guessing.
“Did I?” Faramir began to ask, only to trail off as Frodo reached over to pat his hand. Something that required standing on his chair.
“Do not worry about it.” Frodo replied.
And as Faramir had never seen the Ring bearer look so lively and pleased he kept his thoughts, as confused as they were, to himself as the last three hobbit’s pushed away from the table and left, more sedately, after Pippin’s trail.
Leaving. With food still on their plates. Merry’s and Sam’s not the least to mention Pippin’s sweats scattered across the table.
~~~
“Lord Faramir?”
It took a moment for the young man to respond, lost in considering the trade agreements he was in charge of, when he did look up he flushed upon realizing it was his King addressing him.
He stood hurriedly, bowing low to attempt hiding his red cheeks, something he failed judging by the amused grey eyes and twitching lips. But in general amusing ones king instead of insulting them was always preferred.
“Yes my King?”
“Do you know much about Hobbits?”
“I have...” Faramir was sure that being suspicious of his own King was not illegal per say. “Started learning my King.”
“Please, Aragorn, when among friends.” The King used his softest smile, and still Faramir blushed. “Did you know, as the oldest of their family present, Frodo speaks on behalf of his family? He spoke to me earlier as a respectable Hobbit to the King of Gondor.”
“If this is about this morns fast-”
“No, tis through no fault of your own.” Aragorn waved away Faramir’s interjections and hopefully his flushing cheeks as well. “Frodo, in fact, put forth a request for adoption.”
Faramir’s face had gone blank, in the way some animals froze to avoid predators, or in this case to avoid information coming from a smugly smiling source.
“Of you.” Aragorn grinned widely. “He had several good arguments.”
The blank face was quickly giving way to confusion and perhaps, just the tiniest bit, of horror.
“I already agreed.”