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Journeys in High Places
by Illwynd
Notes: Many thanks to Cressida, Lilan, roh_wyn, and the Inklettes for their advice
and support.
33
For Gondorians, mountains loomed large. Dark and fearsome mountains to the
east, the majestic heights of the White Mountains in the north, and many smaller peaks
scattered across the land so that nearly anywhere one stood in Gondor, mountains teased
the edges of the horizon. Mountains loomed large in the tales told to children; rumors of
Meneltarma still standing from the sea above Atalantë, or a ghost of a legend of the tall
peak Taniquetil in Valinor. The mountains of Gondor were strong, deep-rooted and fair.
To live in their shadow was to have joy at the sight.
But mountains, however lovely to look upon, are not the kindest of companions…
T.A. 3006
Minas Tirith
Arrayed around the table sat half a dozen men, and all eyes were focused
on the old Ranger Captain who stood at its head. Even in the garb of city folk, he
had a strange, weather-beaten quality to his appearance. It suited his task; he
spoke at length of the season of training and instruction before these men, all of
whom had been named by Lord Denethor as Captains of exceeding quality,
capable of leading a Company of Rangers.
Faramir listened attentively as the man described what they would be
taught; the tactics used by the Ranger companies and the skills of secrecy in the
wilderness. Faramir already had studied as much of these as he could; accounts
of old skirmishes that detailed Ranger methods were abundant in the libraries of
Minas Tirith, and he had read them voraciously. Just as much enthusiasm had he
put into his practice with the bow, principal weapon of the Rangers. He wasn’t
sure when the idea of gaining a Captaincy of the Rangers had come to him, but as
soon as it had he had known for certain that it was there that his skills could be
put to their best use. Denethor had given his grudging acceptance when Faramir