Chapter 9

It was so long since he had last been  here that to Faramir it felt like stepping back in time.

The circular room was at the very highest point in the Citadel; it provided a panoramic view to the very limits of the horizon in all directions. In the centre of the room set on a stone plinth stood an optical instrument of exquisite design. The room served a dual purpose, in daytime the telescope could be angled in any direction to give those watching a clear picture of happenings in the lands around the White City; giving a strategic advantage to the guardians of the City. In the night time, the wooden shutters of the roof could be moved back to allow the telescope to be angled to the night sky. It was here that Faramir and Boromir had learned to read the night sky at the elbow of a tutor and had spent many happy hours lost in the beauty of the celestial dance.

Arwen was enchanted; she had never felt so close to the stars. She was fascinated by the telescope but having examined it and seen its capabilities she was happy to leave the beautiful example of Dwarven craftwork and to settle upon cushions on the floor and gaze up into the star-sparkled night.

“Faramir, how did they ever get you away from this place?” she asked, noticing that, for the first time since Edoras, Faramir looked truly relaxed.

“We were only supposed to come here with the tutor, other times it was off-limits,” he explained. “Boromir found out where the old man kept the key and of a night-time when he had been ‘encouraged’ to have a glass or two of wine we would purloin the key and sneak up here with blankets and spend hours enjoying the solitude. The second time we were discovered we both received a beating and Father confiscated the key….after that we got rather good at picking the lock!”

“Faramir, I’m shocked,” teased Arwen “I always imagined you as a ‘good’ boy.”

“Yes, but you fail to take account of my brother’s influence, Lady. Boromir was never one to take no for an answer! And we did no harm…a little escapism was a welcome distraction at times.” Arwen sensed that this was touching too close to memories best left undisturbed and she changed the subject to one less likely to cause her companion introspection. They both watched as the small crescent moon edged its slow path across the night sky to finally disappear behind the rim of the mountain. Arwen was surprised when Faramir broke the silence.

“Tamir told you what happened at the caves!”

It was a statement rather than a question and not knowing how best to answer she merely nodded.

 “Don’t worry, I knew the story would come out and it has been obvious that no one wants to ask me about it! You must all think me weak.”

“I’m sorry; we all feared that it was too soon, that it would distress you to have to think about it.”

“Lady, I have had long to think about it! Hours of enforced idleness and long hours in the night when sleeplessness is a welcome relief from the horrors that plague my dreams.” Faramir got to his feet and stepped out onto the walled balcony that encircled the room. He leaned against the wall, resting his chin on his hand and gazing out into the velvet night. He sensed Arwen at his elbow.

“ I cannot waste any more time or energy on regrets or ‘what-ifs’; ‘if’ I had sent for help, ‘if’ the garrison had been properly supplied, ‘if’ I had not allowed Johean to risk his health by tending the sick, ‘if’ I had not fallen asleep on watch, ‘if’ I had not been too weak to prevent him falling…. No, Lady, I cannot risk thinking on what cannot be changed; that way risks madness! And madness is too close a companion to my kin to risk falling willingly into its clutches…let it find me out if it must, I will not go looking for it!

Arwen put a hand to his cheek and turned his face towards her. “Faramir, never imagine that we, that I, think you weak! You have faced burdens and trials to break the strongest spirit and yet each time you bounce back ready to face the next obstacle that fate throws in your path. You are strong, and brave and loyal and we love you for it.” She had to laugh at the look of disbelief that flickered across his expression before he schooled his features once more into their usual careful watchfulness.

“There is one who doesn’t share your feelings, Lady,” he said sadly. “I seem destined always to shame or disappoint him….”

“Ay, and I could bang your heads together for it…but I will not give up on you both; he wants your friendship, as you need his!”

*****

Aragorn and Legolas lay sprawled in easy chairs, enjoying the remnants of a second bottle of fine wine. Their day had been busy and tiring; a tour of inspection of the harbour and the Causeway Forts, checking the progress of repairs and the state of  the fortifications. The fire had burned down to a dim red glow as they bickered good-naturedly. They heard the approach of visitors long before the door opened; merry laughter echoed along the quiet corridors. Faramir escorted Arwen into the chamber, his hand tucked protectively at her elbow, both still giggling at some shared jest. The King got to his feet to welcome his wife.

“Well, Lord Faramir, I see you are not content to take up my wife’s  afternoons with your concerns, now you also abscond with her for half the night as well !” he swaggered slightly, the effects of the wine affecting his balance. His words were stern but his eyes smiling to soften the effect.

 Faramir had taken a step back at his approach, intimidated by the King’s inebriated proximity; memories of his father burst upon him like an icy deluge. He heard the words but missed the expression. He froze, all colour draining form his face to leave him rigid with mortification.

“Sire,…Lady, forgive me!....forgive….I meant to impropriety!” he shot a despairing look at Arwen. “Please excuse me, I meant to offence!” He saluted and turned to the door.

“Faramir, wait!” The Queen went to follow him but turned back as she reached the door.

 “You two wait right here!” she whispered fiercely, her face a mask of anger. “I have not finished with you!” She left the room and caught up with Faramir in the corridor. Ten minutes later she stalked back in to find King and Elf in bewildered silence.

“Have you any idea what you have just DONE?” she demanded. Legolas had only ever seen her this angry when dealing with a thoughtless prank of her older brothers and he knew better than to interrupt. Aragorn tried to rise but she pushed him back. “Sit Down,” she shouted, finally raising her voice.

“For weeks now I have been building up his trust, his confidence; finally getting him to open up to me enough to share his fears and worries. And with one stupid, thoughtless comment you have undone it all.” She paced up and down fixing them with a piercing stare that would have put Lord Elrond to shame.

“Have you any idea how close he is to breaking; he has been to the edge so often and each time you seem determined to push him over. Every time he is in your presence he leaves bowed and dejected. How much more do you think he can take? He barely sleeps at night for the horrors that stalk him and his day-time thoughts are filled with the fear that he will succumb to the madness that took his father and blighted the life of his mother and brother!”

“You have never bothered to get to know him,” she ranted. “You have no idea of the lengths and pains he goes to for your people. What do you know of this city, Estel, or of its people? How many orphans are there? How many widows? Who looks out for the people in need! He could tell you, he has been back only weeks and yet he knows more than you have learned in nearly a year!”

“He tries so hard to be what you want and you treat him no better than his father did!” With that she walked out and smiled to herself, quite pleased with her little tantrum.

Inside the chamber King and Elf sat side by side stunned into immobility.

 ****

Breakfast in the royal apartments was a quiet affair; a fragile truce had been affected between the Royal couple not helped by the lingering effects of the previous night’s wine. Arwen, Legolas and Gimli gathered near the hearth and the King sat at the table, playing listlessly with the food on his plate.

“Sire, Lord Faramir seeks an audience,” announced the squire.

Faramir nodded to the two well-briefed guards and the three of them entered; the guards taking post just inside the door. Faramir nodded a greeting to the Queen; she acknowledged his obeisance and engaged her attention back to the Elf and Dwarf.

“Sire, I seek your permission to address the Councillors at the end of tomorrows Council.” Faramir’s request was cold and formal.

“Do I take it you intend to take up your position formally, Faramir? Are you ready for that?”

“It is one of my intentions, Sire,” the tone almost sneering.

The King looked up sharply and noticed for the first time that the Steward seemed agitated, his eyes wild and restless, and his normal calmness of bearing and neatness of attire absent. He also noticed the presence of the guards. He felt the first stirrings of alarm; Arwen’s warnings about his mental state still ringing in his ears.

“Can you tell me what it is you wish to bring before the Council.” The King kept his voice and bearing calm.

“No Sire,” Faramir looked over his shoulder to the guards and back to the King, “Better that you don’t know!” he whispered, conspiratorially.

Aragorn, now alarmed, tried to attract the attention of the others in the room without alerting the Steward but their attention was held elsewhere and they didn’t notice the King’s agitation.

“Faramir is any thing wrong!”

Faramir walked around the table and stood at the King’s shoulder; he bent down and hissed in his ear.

 “Wrong! Everything is wrong…this experiment is not working. Gondor needs no King…It is time to set things right. Time for a return to the rule of the Steward’s. I had hoped to keep this quiet until the Council but if you give your word to go quietly I will see to it that you are escorted quietly and discreetly  over the border with all due honour, though I would have to keep the Queen here to ensure your cooperation…. I hope you don’t make it necessary for me to see you bundled out in gag and manacles; it would hardly be dignified.”  As he stood up he looked over and winked to the Queen.

“Now sire, if you will excuse me I have a coup to organise!” Faramir left, taking the guards with him and closing the door softly.

It took Aragorn a moment to process what had just happened.

“Aragorn what was that all about,” asked Gimli with innocent curiosity.

“Quickly, go after him Legolas, he has lost his reason. See he is confined to his room until I come with the Warden.” As the Elf disappeared the King turned into the room, shock and disbelief etched on his face. Arwen had her face buried in her hands and he could see her shoulders shaking. He went over to comfort her.

“Don’t worry, My love, we’ll look after him…he will get the best…..”

“Oh Estel, if you could only see your face!” Arwen had to sit down she was laughing so hard. Gimli was nearly chewing a cushion to control his mirth.

“What...What is going on?” Aragorn’s indignant questions were interrupted by the return of Legolas.

“A message from Lord Faramir, Sire.” Smirking, he held up a smoked fish impaled onto a stick.

“And what is the message?”

“Kippers”

“Kippers!”

“Yes, Sire, Kippers….I believe they are a famous delicacy in Dol Amroth….Herring, filleted and smoked.”

“I believe it means you have been gutted and strung up to dry, Estel!” said Arwen, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“You set me up” he pouted

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your touch Arwen, your brothers would be proud!” snickered Legolas.

“Traitor!” Aragorn muttered, but even he couldn’t keep his face straight. “Where is the cheeky young pup now?”

“He is off to the quay at the Harlond; Prince Imrahil’s vessel has been sighted, it should dock within the hour.”

“Well, you may tell my Steward that revenge will be swift and painful,” the King assured his companions with a glint in his eye.

TBC