Sorry for the late update, but have been busy working.

Have redone Ch 1, replaced Ch 2 with a brand new chapter, and apologize for Ch 3. It is bad, and will, in all probability, stay bad. Mea culpa. You might want to reread Ch 2, so this chapter will make sense.

A special Hannon le to all my reviewers.

An extra special hannon le to Eleanor of Aquitania for her assistance.

A very special thank you to my archivist, my sister. Thanks, Bon!

Ch 4

As Aragorn scooped the coins into the bags, he had one more question. “What does this Râsual look like?”

Huldán shrugged his shoulders, saying, “He always came to me hooded and cloaked. I could never see his face.”

Aragorn nodded, expecting nothing less. He realized Râsual was clever enough to hide his face. The name was, most probably, also false. He knew it would not be an easy task to find someone hiding behind a false identity.

The Gondorian King made his way to his study. He entered it and stood for a few minutes, then made his way to the desk in front of the windows. He realized he was still carrying the bag of coins and threw the bag on the desk.

Sitting in the chair, he stared at the bag, but not really seeing it. He closed his eyes, trying to blot out the memory of Faramir, bleeding, falling to the floor. He again saw the Steward, lying on the bed in the Houses of Healing, unconscious.

He did not hear the door open nor did he hear the soft footsteps as they approached him. A hand on his shoulder made him look up. Arwen stood there, lovely as always.

“Meleth nin, you must rest. You will do Faramir no good if you are exhausted. I had the kitchen send something.” As she was speaking, she brushed the hair off Aragorn’s forehead and tucked it behind his ears. She could see the exhaustion on his face and in his eyes.

Sighing, he acquiesced, rising from the chair and letting Arwen guide him to their chambers. Once there, he bathed his face and hands.

He told Arwen, “I have sent for Éowyn, Éomer, Lothíriel as well as Prince Imrahil. Faramir mentioned earlier they were visiting Emyn Arnen, so they should arrive by this evening.”

“Everything is in readiness. Their apartments are ready, and the kitchen will be ready to serve a hot meal when they arrive,” stated Arwen. She asked Aragorn, “Will Faramir recover?” She loved the gentle steward, as did everyone who knew him, and it saddened her that he would be so injured.

Aragorn sighed, and then said, “I certainly hope so. He has been grievously injured. I fear infection of the wound. The warden will send word if he worsens.” Aragorn toyed with a piece of apple, then set it down.

Arwen stood and walked to the balcony. Aragorn joined her. He took her in his arms, holding her tightly, taking comfort from her presence.

Arwen was taking comfort being in her husband’s arms. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She let her tears fall, knowing her beloved was there for her.