A/N: So as some of my loyal followers already know, I am working on my Master's degree in nursing and I have very little time to write. However, I did manage to dash off a new Teitho story and amazingly enough, it placed second.
The Bow
Rated: K
Summary: Barahir receives a special gift on the eve of his departure for Rohan.
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to JRR Tolkien. I'm just lucky enough to be allowed to play in his world.
Elboron sighed at he stared down at the polished wood in his hands. With reverent hands and gentle fingers, he traced the etchings still visible even after nigh twenty-five years. Tears welled in his eyes as his gaze followed the twining leaves and branches. He closed his eyes as he brought to mind the day his father had gifted him the weapon.
"But Ada, Prince Legolas gave you this bow," the young man protested. "Surely you still have need of it."
Faramir smiled at his son. "Nay, Elboron, it is fitting that this bow passes to you. Legolas crafted it with the purpose of defending our land and providing for our people. Today you take up the mantle of Captain of the Ithilien Rangers. This bow has served me well and now it shall serve you."
The newest Steward of Gondor rose and strode to the window of his home at Emyn Arnen. His grey eyes drifted to the training paddock and the figure of his son, riding with the ease of his grandmother's people. Barahir was to join the Eorlingas and his cousin's Éored at the end of the month and while his grandfather's bow was much too long to be used effectively from horseback, it was still a powerful weapon that would serve the young man well. Retrieving the quiver of arrows that accompanied the bow, he headed outside.
"Ada," Barahir called as he leapt gracefully from his mount. "What brings you here?"
"I have a present for you, my son." Elboron fell into step beside the young man that reminded him so much of his own mother. "You will join the armies of Rohan but I wish you to carry with you something of Gondor as well." He turned to face his son. "This bow belonged to your grandfather. It was crafted for him by Prince Legolas and he used it for many years. When I was appointed Captain of Ithilien's Rangers, Ada gave it to me, just as I now pass it on to you."
"Ada, I don't know what to say. Grandfather's bow? What if I am not worthy to bear it?" Barahir enquired softly. "I am not the archer that he was."
"Nor am I. But Prince Legolas reminded me of something when I voiced the same concern. He told me that it is not the bow that makes the archer, but the archer that makes the bow." Elboron favored his son with a knowing smile. "He understood my fears, as did my father. Do not fret over whether you are worthy of this bow. It is an heirloom of our house and it will serve you well."
Barahir took the offered weapon with obvious respect. "I shall endeavor to make you proud, Ada," he said firmly. "And all of Gondor too."
"I am already proud of you, my son and I am certain that your grandfather is as well."