Author's Note: The characters in this story come from the mind of JRR Tolkien. None of them are mine and I do not claim to own them.
Faramir Took lay quietly on the grassy green hill, enjoying the sun warming his face. The light breeze blew the sweet smell of honeysuckle toward him. It was midday, a little past, probably. Faramir's mother was most likely putting lunch on the table and boiling the water for the tea. He knew he should be getting back home, but he was just so comfortable. For some reason he felt safer among the flowers and birds, more at home than he felt cooped up in his burrow in his father's musty study. He loved hearing his father's stories of Fangorn Forest and Gondor, and other fantastical lands of which Faramir could hardly imagine. But lately, the Thain had been dictating letters and notes, while Faramir (who possessed the best penmanship of the two) madly scribbled the words onto the parchment. He found that his father was becoming more and more like a stiff old Took and less fun to be with.
Faramir pushed himself up and dusted off his filthy trousers. He had left his coat at home, he reminded himself in a moment of slight panic, so as not to dirty it. He took his time--almost an hour--walking back to the Great Smials, not fully aware of what punishment was to come. When he entered the dining hall, he found his parents had indeed sat down to luncheon. However, so had many other hobbits. In fact, Faramir would not have been surprised if the entire Took family was there.
His mother spotted him at once and beckoned to him. "Faramir, your head looks like a bird's nest!" Diamond scolded, pulling a variety of leaves, twigs, and seeds out of his strawberry-blond hair. "And where is your nice jacket? The one I just mended for you--I thought we agreed you were to wear it for today."
"I forgot, Mother," Faramir said. "What's happened?" He stared at the slightly grave faces of the other hobbits. "Has somebody died?"
"No," Diamond said, shaking her head. She knocked her husband with her fist.
"What?" he asked, looking up at her. "Now?"
"Pippin," she said forcefully.
"All right." The Thain stood up and repeatedly hit his empty mug to the point where Diamond thought her husband had surely made a dent. "If I could have your attention, please...my fellow Tooks." He waited for the various conversations to dissipate, and then continued, "I have called you all here today to announce a very special occasion in my son's future." Faramir narrowed his eyes, pondering on what his father could possibly be referring to. "As you all know, it is a long-standing tradition in our family to choose a bride for our sons. Faramir," Pippin put a hand on his son's shoulder and went on, "is our first and only son. We have talked to many of you, seeking advice about his future marriage and have finally come to a conclusion."
Faramir looked around the hall wildly. There were so many hobbit lasses to choose from--which would it be? Was this his punishment? Marriage? Suddenly he caught the eye of one of the girls: Violet Took, the daughter of an especially wealthy Took. Faramir had always been slightly frightened of her--she was just a bit too odd for him. And then she winked, and at that moment his father said, "I am happy to announce the engagement of Faramir and Violet Took."