AN: This is a spin off of Lost in Translation, by Sian 22, and was written with her permission. While it's not necessary to have read the original story for this one to make sense, it might make it more entertaining. Plus, it's a wonderful story, so I highly recommend it! The Elboron and Finduilas pictured here are also from her universe. Amerith is her OC, featured in Captains and Pawns, which is also very well worth reading!

April 9, year 4 of the Fourth Age

Even after nearly six years of marriage, the fact that her husband still left a cup of hot tea on her bedside table each morning never failed to make Éowyn smile. The scent of the herbs and the sight of gently curling steam had become one of her favorite ways to be woken.

As she wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the mug her smile grew into a grin. Settling back against the headboard she took a small sip and allowed the memory of the very different way her husband had awoken her last night to replay in her mind. She had to admit that was by far her favorite way to wake, but the tea would do for now.

When the tea had been drunk and she was dressed for the day, Éowyn made her way to her husband's study. She was not surprised to find him searching through one of the many piles of files that littered the room, clearly hunting for something in particular.

She shook her head gently as she watched, but her smile was fond. How Faramir could have such an organized and precise mind while being so disorganized and careless with his papers she would never understand. But she had come to accept that it was just how he was and would not change, no matter how often she offered to tidy this room for him.

After a few moments he glanced over to the door, and his smile was immediate and bright when he saw her there. Another sight that she looked forward to each morning. He crossed the room to her, and took her in his arms before kissing her warmly. "Good morning, wife."

Her eyes danced with laughter, and a hint of mischief. "Good morning, husband." The hand she had pressed to his back lingered on, then started to drift downward as she smiled serenely up at him.

With a laugh he reached around to capture the wandering hand in his before it could travel too far. "Love, you know the council will be meeting shortly." His hand lifted hers so he could press a kiss to her fingers. "And I must find my papers before I can go."

Blinking swiftly a few times as if shocked, she feigned innocence. "Why, my lord, surely you do think I would seek to distract the Steward of Gondor from his duties?" She had learned much about keeping her thoughts from showing on her face, but she could not hide the laughter in her eyes.

"I do think exactly that, my lady." He chuckled and pulled her close once more as he breathed across her ear. "Would that I could take you up on it instead of facing the council. But I will make it up to you tonight, min hoert."

Éowyn laughed, and reached up to kiss him warmly, but briefly. "See that you do, meleth nin."

With a final squeeze of his hand, she turned and left the room, and he returned to his search.

He found the papers quickly enough, and flipped through them to ensure that all pages he would need, or might have the slightest chance of needing, were included. Once satisfied that he would be prepared for any turn the debates might take, he tapped them on the edge of the desk to get them into a rough stack, then walked briskly towards the door. He had wanted to meet with his Uncle briefly before the meeting, and if he hurried…

The sight by the door to their apartments made him stop, and his heart leapt in his chest. His family was gathered there to see him off for the day. Elboron, his blond curls tousled from his pillow, stood next to his mother, leaning against her at first but then standing upright as his father came into view. Little Finduilas, still in her night clothes, was on her mother's hip, clinging like a burr. Until she saw her father. Then she gave a sleepy smile around the thumb in her mouth, and reached out both arms to him.

Unable to resist them, he put the papers down again and took Finduilas with both hands, tossing her up in the air as she loved him to do before settling her on his own hip, pressing a noisy kiss to her cheek as he did. Crouching down, he scooped Elboron up with his other arm, and pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek as well, and laughed at the face Elboron made. "Are you two going to be behave yourselves for your mother while I am gone?"

Finduilas nodded even as she burrowed closer to his shoulder, but Elboron just grinned. "If the yards are dry enough this afternoon, Mamma is going to take me riding!"

Faramir grinned back at his son, delighted by the boy's enthusiasm. In many ways Elboron was his mother's son, from his coloring to his love for horses, while Finduilas took after him. "Tomorrow, you will have to show me all that you have learned."

Elboron nodded enthusiastically, making Faramir chuckle. Looking over at Éowyn, he smiled, then leaned in to brush her lips with his. As expected, Elboron squirmed away from being squished between his parents, and Faramir relaxed his arm enough that the boy slid down to stand on the floor again. Éowyn took Finduilas onto her own hip as she stepped back and smiled up at her husband. "Enjoy your day, Faramir."

With a quiet snort of derision and a laugh he picked up his papers and opened the door. Turning to give them all one more smile he pulled it closed again, then sped on his way to the council chambers.

Hours later, the council droned on. It as ever thus, Faramir knew, but it seemed worse on a beautiful spring day. He appreciated that the king made a point to ensure that all the lords felt they'd had a chance to voice their opinions and be heard, but on a topic this cut and dried the bickering was enough to frustrate even the most patient of men.

The council had agreed to a reduction in taxes for the period of seven years after the war, to allow for regrowth and recovery. Those years were now over, the new taxes were to go into effect in one month's time, and still the lords wanted to debate and negotiate an agreement they had already signed their names to. Some felt that even now, after years of plentiful harvests, the increased taxes would be a burden to their people. Others felt that they were being signaled out unfairly and disproportionately.

Tensions were growing high, and when one of lords grew irate enough to stand, pounding a fist on the table to make his point, Faramir glanced to Elessar and received a small nod in reply.

At last!

Faramir rose to his feet, and in a voice that carried clearly through the room called for the council's attention. "My lords, and lady!" Amerith sent him a sunny smile as he waited for the muttering of the council members to subside, and lifted her goblet in a discrete toast to his taking charge.

"As you are all aware, this issue was decided long ago. After the war it was known that many of your lands had been destroyed by the Dark One. Many of your young men had been slain, crops had been burned, livestock slaughtered. All knew that we had to focus on the good of our people, to ensure that they survived the winter and were able to plant a new crop in the following spring."

He reached down to pick up the paper he had long ago pulled out and placed on the top of the stack before him, and lifted it to help make his point.

"On this page I have the terms that each of you agreed to in one of the first council meetings after the king's coronation. Each of you signed this resolution…"

It had taken this long for it to register that many of the lords had begun smiling, and more than a few chuckled aloud. Faramir looked about the table, brows lifted slightly in amazement. They lifted still higher when he saw that Amerith had lifted her hand as if to cover her expression, and even his Uncle grinned widely.

Imrahil lifted one finger and made a small circle with it.

Brow now creased into a frown, Faramir glanced at the paper in his hand then back to his uncle. Receiving an answering nod, Faramir flipped his wrist to look at the back of the page, the stared at what he saw.

There were ink marks on the back of the page! Looking more closely he could see It was a crude picture, in fact, showing ten or twelve figures, disproportionate, and formed of only triangles, ovals and circles. There was nothing to identify who the drawing was intended to depict, but it was obvious enough to him who the artist was.

Elboron had gotten into his office, and had found his papers. And a pen.

Emotions ran through him, from puzzlement to anger and finally to seeing the humor in the situation. With a quiet groan he turned to hand the paper to Elessar, so that his liege could understand what was happening. The king took one look at the crude artwork and roared with laughter, and the sound encouraged the laughter from the other lords to grow as well.

Faramir had to laugh himself, even as he felt a flush of embarrassment burning across his face and ears. Sinking into his chair he mad a show of pressing the fingers of one hand to his temple, even as he continued to chuckle.

Eventually, Elessar reached out and clapped a hand to Faramir's shoulder as he stood. "My lords, my lady, it seems that this might be an opportune time for us to take a short recess before we return to the issue at hand. Shall we meet again in say one candlemark?"

All quickly agreed to the idea and stood gratefully. Most filed out into the courtyard to take advantage of the fresh air and warm sunshine.

As they passed by him on their way to the doors, Faramir was grateful that many in the room knew his son well, and that almost all had children of their own. One or two of the older members of the council seemed aghast to see an official document had been, in their minds, desecrated, but far more were more sympathetic and offered Faramir supportive smiles, or even reached out to pat his shoulder as they filed past.

He himself stayed in his seat for a while longer. The lords had been kind, but was still stunned that Elboron would do such a thing. Faramir and Éowyn had both been very clear with him that he was not to touch anything in Faramir's study, and this had been drilled into the boy from the time that he first learned to walk. Normally, Faramir was an indulgent father, but this time something would have to be done…

Suddenly a memory flashed into his mind of another time that he discovered someone had made marks on his official papers, and the memory immediately made him smile. Éowyn had found his notes the night before his first council meeting to follow their honeymoon, and had circled certain letters throughout the pages to spell out words in Rohirric. Suggestive words, as he learned when he carefully worked out the translations. The smile grew into a grin as he remembered how flustered it had made him, a husband of barely a month who had not yet adjusted to being married to a woman as untamable and unpredictable as a box of fireworks.

At the time he had felt he was the most fortunate man in the kingdom, and he still felt that way. The grin softened as he remembered just how that particular evening had played out, which in turn lead to remembering the night just past. Truly he was blessed to have such a passionate woman for his wife.

Amerith's inner laughter interrupted his thoughts. "I have told you before that you are indeed a lucky man!"

He slammed mental shields in place, but relaxed them some when he heard her laughing at the other end of the hall.

"Playing the voyeur, my lady? Surely that is beneath even a spider like you." But he was sure to temper the harsh words with humor.

Their eyes met across the room, and she gave him an exaggerated wink. "I am merely gathering ideas on how to keep my newest paramour entertained, darling."

Covering a laugh with a cough, Faramir reached for his cup of water and sipped. "Surely there is little left for you to learn, after so many favorites?" He flashed her a wicked grin. "And so many years?"

"Oh, cruel boy!" More laughter filled the hall, male this time. "I am learning that there are still many things that young pups such as you have never even dreamed of doing. Even if their wife is quite… creative."

An image came to his mind, of a man lounging back on silk covered pillows. It was but a flash, and Faramir saw little of the face, but was surprised to see that there was silver streaked through the man's raven hair. Definitely not one of her usual favorites!

Puzzled, trying to place the image that Amerith had shared and to understand why she'd shared it, for he knew there had to be a reason for it. He took another sip of water as he thought, and looked down the hall at her once more.

Then he noticed how close she stood to his uncle, her arm tucked cozily through his as she pressed against him to say something quiet into his ear. Their eyes met, they smiled at one another, and the pieces fell into place, making Faramir choke on the water he had just drunk.

Blessed Yavanna! Surely Amerith wasn't… Imrahil? He had teased them once, years before, about how they could rebuild the economy simply by shopping the markets together to indulge their well known love for fashion, but he had never considered that they might truly make a match of it.

Even as he coughed and tried recover from the shock Amerith's inner laughter tinkled into his thoughts once more. "How often must I tell you to paddle faster, darling?"