Tea Conspiracies by octopus_fool

[octopus_fool]

B2MeM Prompt, Card and Number: N44 – Hypericum (Card 25 - Botany)
Format: Short Story
Genre: Fix-it
Rating: General
Warnings: depression
Characters: Faramir, Ioreth, Denethor
Pairings: none
Creator’s Notes (optional): I decided to give Hypericum a different name in this, since neither "Hypericum" nor "St. John's wort" felt like they fit into middle-earth. The "windowed" in the name I gave it refers to the translucent dots in the leaves which are glands containing various oils.
Summary: When going to the kitchens for a nighttime snack, Faramir finds an unexpected intruder with surprising motives.

Also on AO3.

 

Faramir could have gone to the kitchen of the barracks, but those of the tower were simply closer and he was hungry after a long ride and unpleasant briefing with his father. He just wanted some bread and maybe a piece of cheese or dried meat before going to bed. And at this time of night, all the kitchen staff would be asleep or in the taverns, so he wouldn’t disturb anyone.

At least that was what Faramir expected. As soon as he opened the door to the kitchens, he saw the flickering light of a candle, quickly shielded by the hand of the person holding it as soon as the door clicked shut behind Faramir. Faramir put his hand on his sword and held the other hand with his own candle higher.

“Who is there?” He demanded.

There was a moment of rustling, then Ioreth stepped into the light. “It is me, Captain Faramir.”

Faramir relaxed a little when he saw the trusted healer, but was still cautious. “What are you doing here at this time of night?”

As he came closer, Faramir noticed the open box with his father’s tea on the counter. Ioreth shifted awkwardly at his question and Faramir could see that there was something in her pocket, most likely stuffed there in a hurry when he had entered.

“I’d like to see whatever you have in your pocket.”

Ioreth sighed and pulled out a small bag. Faramir peered inside and saw dried herbs and an occasional yellow petal.

“I promise, I’m not trying to poison him,” Ioreth murmured.

“Then I’m sure you won’t mind drinking a tea brewed from that yourself,” Faramir said. “And while you do so, you can explain exactly what you were doing.”

“Of course, Captain Faramir,” Ioreth agreed, clearly relieved that Faramir was giving her the chance to explain herself.

They rekindled the fire in the stove and set the kettle on to boil.

“They help against black moods, these windowed starflowers,” Ioreth explained as Faramir shook some of the herbs into a teapot. “I’ve suggested to Lord Denethor to take them, but he insists that he doesn’t have black moods.”

They were silent for a few moments, both thinking about the Steward. Faramir poured the water into the teapot and they watched the steam curl upwards in the candlelight.

“It should be his choice, really,” Ioreth murmured. “Believe me, I don’t make a habit of slipping people the medication they need. It’s just that… his black moods are getting worse.”

Faramir thought back to the briefing he had had with his father earlier and nodded slightly. Faramir was no healer, but his father had been prone to what Faramir suspected might have been black moods since as long as he could remember. Waiting for word from Boromir certainly wasn’t improving things.

“I’m just afraid that they might affect his ability to rule, that his judgement might be clouded if things continue this way. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least try. ”

“How long have you been slipping him this weed?” Faramir asked.

“This is the first time. I’ll switch out the tea with the windowed starflower against regular tea if he shows any adverse reactions, I promise. Not that there usually are any adverse effects, aside from a higher likelihood to get a sunburn. And with the clouds we have been getting lately, there is little risk of that,” Ioreth said, nodding towards the East darkly before taking a sip of the hot tea.

“Don’t let yourself be caught,” Faramir said. “Not all guards are as willing to listen to explanations as I am, and my father might see it as an attempt on his life.”

Ioreth nodded. “I am thankful that you are willing to listen to me, Captain Faramir. I will be more careful in the future when the tea needs to be restocked.”

As Ioreth finished her cup of tea and Faramir ate his slice of bread, they spoke of other things. Only when they were finished did Faramir return to the topic.

“Would you mind leaving me a sample of this windowed starflower?” Faramir asked.

Ioreth was happy to comply.

 

Despite going to bed rather later than he had planned, Faramir was up at sunrise the next morning. Although he was inclined to believe Ioreth, he wanted to be absolutely sure.

Faramir took the sample of the dried plant to a healer he knew had little to do with Ioreth and had him confirm the identity and usage of the plant.

Afterwards, Faramir went to Ioreth with a small scratch he had obtained on his way to the other healer when he had had to jump out of the way of a cart.

Ioreth quirked her eyebrows at Faramir’s visit but cleaned out the scratch.

“In case you wanted to ask, I’m well and hale,” she said when she sent him off.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Faramir said with a grin. “Please forgive me for wanting to be absolutely certain.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Ioreth replied. “We would be living in harsh times indeed if a son didn’t look out for his father and a captain for his lord.”

 

Faramir returned to Osgiliath the next day and didn’t return to Minas Tirith for several weeks. When he did, it was to attend the council his father had called in. Faramir could not say he was particularly looking forward to it. Bad news tended to accumulate at these councils and did nothing to improve Denethor’s moods.

To Faramir’s surprise, his father was far less grim than Faramir had expected. The news from various parts of Gondor was still worrying, but Denethor did not seem to grow gloomier and more despaired with each account. To everybody’s surprise, he even cracked a joke about Prince Imrahil’s love for cheap dried fish.

When the council ended, Faramir decided he would send Ioreth some jars of the good spices that had just arrived in the citadel.

“Faramir, wait a moment,” Denethor said to stop him from leaving with the others.

Faramir watched them leave, wondering if his father wanted to discuss a new strategy for defending the western part of Osgiliath.

Instead, Denethor placed a hand on Faramir’s shoulder. “Well done, fending off that newest orc attack on Osgiliath. I am, well, I just wanted to tell you that I am glad to have you.”

Comments

[shirebound]

Three cheers for Ioreth and her love for the royal family!

[octopus_fool]

She definitely deserves those cheers and more appreciation (because yay for female characters)! I'm glad you liked it!

[erulissedances]

Wow. That's some serious stuff! I wonder if we can slip some into the beverages of the Congress and Presidential kitchens. I think everyone could use mellowing out a bit these days.

Very nicely done!

- Erulisse (one L)

[octopus_fool]

Thank you! I probably vastly exaggerated its effects but even if it were that potent, I doubt some good antidepressants would be enough to fix things in real life politics. I wish though... ;)