AUTHOR'S NOTE

"Avoidance" began its life as movie verse with much respect paid to book canon. As it nears its conclusion, the story has grown into a personal merge of both book and film. Most importantly, the event that concludes this chapter is my creation alone. Please consider the particular incident "alternate universe" (AU). The chapter has not had a Beta review so my apologies for any typos and mispellings.

CHAPTER 21: A Pledge Made and a Wish Fullfilled

"The Ladies of the Court and Honored Guests are here to celebrate the upcoming birth of a child to the Princess and Prince of Ithilien!!"

Eowyn's hand lifted to her lips. A quick sense of panic gripped her. She rose slightly, but Queen Arwen put a hand on her shoulder and gently urged her to sit.

"It will be alright. Do not leave, " the elven queen's smooth voice advised. "This event has been long in the planning.

As she spoke, a vertible parade of noble Gondorian ladies and exotic female elves in flowing costumes entered, carrying beautifully decorated packages. The elven women sang in the Sindaran language--a tongue Eowyn barely knew--words of good luck and encouragement to the mother and good health and long life to the child. As they sang, there began a parade of all the women who had become her friends since her fateful arrival in Gondor with her father's army.

First was Gertrudis, Eowyn's great friend, who started out as her nurse and now was Eowyn's assistant in the Apothecary of the Houses of Healing. She was accompanied by Nellas and Nienor, who had tended Faramir during his sojourn at the Houses. Then entered Visme, the hairdresser in the Hamam. She courtesied at Eowyn's feet and left a huge jar of aromatic salts, of the type they used in the baths. Nurse Thera, who had been a mere assistant when Eowyn met her, gave Eowyn a box of sweets.Then came Beregond's wife Emerie, who spread a beautifully crocheted baby blanket across Eowyn's lap. The lovely Idris, Princess of Dol Amroth, and her daughter Lothiriel followed next. Arwen gestured for them to pull up chairs next to Eowyn, for they were her family.

"Did you have a hand at this?" Eowyn chided Lothiriel, who would soon become her sister-in-law.

"Who me?" the unflappable advocate shrugged. "I just got the invitation and dragged Mother here. I suggest you ask my beloved cousin, your husband."

"Aye, this party is his doing--his, Her Majesty's, and mine!" called out Dame Ioreth. The Chief Nurse, more a mother to Eowyn than anyone else in her life, and her daughters Nene and Gloredhel, had snuck in behind the Dol Amroth ladies . "And since you liked the clothes you borrowed from us so much, here you are, dearie, compliments of our family, enough large dresses and baby clothes to assist you through many pregnancies.

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After the rush of final renovation of his townhouse, Faramir collapsed exhausted on the huge new bed. His beloved new home in Minas Tirith was at last refurbished to the point where it was ready for daily habitation. Most of the furniture, some newly commissioned and some moved from Boromir's home, was in place on the polished tile floors. The holes in the walls were repaired; all rooms were now repainted.

Faramir had appropriated a few carpets from the Steward's House to cover the floor in the main room.He hoped that no one would miss the especially lovely carpet that was commissioned by his ancestor Turgon II to illustrate the oath of allegiance between Cirion and Eorl. As far as Faramir was concerned that lovely piece belonged to the Steward's family. The carpet commemorated a great moment in the history of Hurin's family. It had hung in the Stewards' bedroom for at least a hundred years. Now the carpet hung in the bedroom of the final Steward, the man who would marry one of Eorl's most heroic descendents.

Clad only in his undertunic and leggings, Faramir sprawled out on the enormous bed. The cabinet maker assured him that a bed of such dimensions was essential for a couple just beginning their family. "Children will prefer to sleep with their parents," the cabinet maker told Faramir. "You will appreciate a bed with enough room for the entire family." Faramir snorted as he looked about his surroundings. The bed was big enough to comfortably accommodate four adults and perhaps a young child or two. Would his family grow to be so big? He and Eowyn would get lost in such a thing.

"Achhh," Faramir groaned, his contemplation interrupted by the sound of ripping fabric. He leaned forward and rustled the tied-back bed curtains. His kitten Cirion climbed blissfully up the bed curtains, claws sunk firmly into the thick velvet fabric. Faramir pulled the animal off the curtain, lay back, and deposited Ciri on his chest. The cat was now returned from his temporary home in the White Tower to his very altered birthplace. Perhaps he misses Pippin and Beregond? Faramir thought. That would explain Ciri's rambunctiousness. Those two always played with the kitten enough to tire him out.

Faramir propped a pillow beneath his head. He watched Ciri prance along his chest and then plop down in a ball to to sleep unself-consciously in his armpit. Faramir could barely comprehend the events of the past few days. Amid all the preparations for the Coronation of the King, his own life as a private citizen had begun. Faramir's mind drifted back to the events two days ago, when he stood on the steps of the White Tower, anxiously awaiting the carriage that would bring his love to him.

How he had paced in front of the steps of the White Tower! He could not have felt more impatient. At last, the Steward's carriage entered the plaza at a steady pace. Beside it rode Peregrin, son of Palladin, bearing the white and silver standard of the Stewards. Fastened beneath his standard was the white horse on a green field banner of the Mark. Faramir remembered how the sight of the combined standards of Rohan and Gondor thrilled him and dampened his hands in their ceremonial black gloves with sweat.

When the carriage drew to a halt, Pippin swung down from his pony and assisted Eowyn as she stepped out of the carriage. The blue mantel of Finduilas draped over Eowyn's strong shoulders to protect her from the blustery wind that cooled the late April morning. Faramir sighed contentedly as he remembered how he could not restrain himself at the sight of her. He kissed her hand in greeting and then swiftly kissed her lips, perhaps a breech of proper behavior, but he didn't care. Then he removed Eowyn's sparkling cloak and handed it to one of the guardsmen. To Faramir's delight, Eowyn wore her shield maiden's garments and sword on this auspicious day.

In front of the Tower, Pippin handed Faramir a velvet maroon pouch. From it, Faramir withdrew the heavy gold necklace, from which descended three downward-facing, crescent-shaped pendants.* The gemstones carved into the large crescents glittered in the morning light. Eowyn gasped as Faramir put the necklace around her neck. "Where did you find it?" she asked. Her face beamed, and a small tear formed at the corner of her eye."

"One of our local jewelers makes Rohirric dowry necklaces. There is some demand for them, evidently," Faramir winked and placed his hand in the crook of her right arm to lead her into the Tower.

Now, as his eyes threatened to close, Faramir remembered how the Tower Guardsmen opened the door to the spotlessly clean main hall of the White Tower. And then, as they entered the Steward's official chambers, Faramir saw Imrahil, Prince of Ithilien, Faramir's aunt Idris, and their youngest children, Lothiriel and Amrothos. They had arrived by ship at eight o'clock the previous night. That eliminated the need for a fancy arrival parade in their honor--to Imrahil's evident displeasure and Faramir's vast relief. The Dol Amroth family stood at either side of the great desk where many Stewards, including Faramir, had toiled through their days' work. Hurin, Keeper of the Keys, sat in the Steward's chair. Standing slightly behind the Steward's chair was Beregond, who had proven himself a most loyal and affective assistant. Pippin took his place with the other Tower Guardsmen, who filed in to perform their formal duty of protecting the Steward and to serve as witnesses on this auspicious occasion.

Lothiriel stood opposite Beregond, at Hurin's elbow. She wore the sober brown robes of the legal assistant's office. Trust Imrahil to assure that his daughter was prepared to serve the law of Gondor in some fashion during the next few weeks.**

"You are gathered here on this happy occasion to witness the formal betrothal of these two people," Lothiriel had addressed the participants in a deep, formal voice. Then she spoke the words used by advocates and legal assistants on such an occasion since the foundation of Gondor:

"Eowyn, Eomund's daughter, and Faramir, son of Denethor, please step forward."

Faramir remembered how the small throng applauded as he took Eowyn's hand and led her up to the great desk.

Ah, what a day, Faramir sighed, remembering the events surrounding their betrothal. He turned on his side, gently moving Ciri to keep the kitten from being crushed. To celebrate the momentous occasion, Imrahil hastily rented out the entire dining hall of the Golden Cockerel, a better public house favored by those who worked in the Citadel. Faramir sat at Eowyn's side and held her hand beneath the table while Imrahil and Beregond gave the traditional speeches about the joys of married life.

Faramir caught Aunt Idris' wry smile while her husband spoke of all the wonderful duties a wife must do for her husband.

"She must lay out his clothes every day and ensure that his hair is groomed and his body clean," Imrahil looked pointedly at Eowyn.

"Enough, good husband," Idris finally scoffed. "You always pick your clothes and are very picky about them."

Faramir recalled his jest, "I think Imrahil wants you to do that for me, Eowyn, to make sure that I'm turned out in the fashion that he would approve of."

Did the celebrants laugh? Faraamir wondered. He tried to recall more specific incidents, but he rest of the banquet was a golden blur of happiness. He did remember the party's departure from the public house. He and Eowyn waited for everyone to leave. Then they snuck into a deserted alcove off the main hall to share a kiss. No more than a minute passed before Lothiriel found them and said calmly, "Oh there you are. Good job. Now you must come see us off." His cousin winked as she ushered them outside.

The party took carriages and horses down the circles of Minas Tirith to the city's havens on the Anduin. There Imrahil and Lothiriel departed for the Field of Cormallen. They would deliver the contract of engagement to Eomer king and bear the brunt of whatever his initial reaction would be. Few words were spoken by those who remained on the pier as the ship carrying Imrahil and Lothiriel left the harbor.

Alone in his bed, Faramir recalled the nervous twinge in his stomach as he watched Imrahil's flagship sail upriver. By this time Lothiriel would have read their engagement contract to Aragorn, still silent in his headquarters in Cormallen. Perhaps this important news would inspire the reticent king to contact them?

"We joked about wordless Aragorn at dinner last night," Faramir told Ciri as he picked up the cat and lifted him in the air. The little animal's claws spread out harmlessly while Faramir swooped him around like a bird in flight, and then finally set him back down on the bed. But we couldn't say much else, too many people around who shouldn't know of these things. Engaged though they might be, he and Eowyn could only meet at dinner time and for an hour or so afterwards. At all times, they were accompanied by friends and well wishers, congratulating he and Eowyn and teasing them about their future. The past two nights had been like that. In reality, Faramir's duties as Steward and Eowyn's training schedule in the Houses of Healing made it nearly impossible to spend much time alone together.

Tomorrow would be different, Faramir hoped as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow is the end of the week. They would go visit his aunt in the foothills of Lossarnach.

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The following morning, the Steward's carriage stopped at the Houses of Healing. Eowyn waited at the entrance, a carpet bag in her hands. How wonderful she looks, Faramir sighed as he leaned over driver Calem's shoulder. Her hair was tied off by a bow at the back of her head, accentuating her flushed cheekbones and dark blue eyes. He moved forward to help her into the carriage, but she bounded up the vehicle steps unassisted. When she sat down beside him, she seemed stiff and preoccupied.

Faramir reached to embrace her. Unfortunately, her bulky carpet bag wedged itself between their bodies. "What's in here?" Faramir groaned while Eowyn composed herself on the carriage bench. "A present for my aunt Haleth?"

Eowyn nodded. She avoided his gaze. Her fingers kneaded the thick cord handle of the carpet bag. "I brought a change of clothing, just in case we need to stay overnight," her voice sounded breathy and nervous as she set the bag on the floor. "Your aunt is expecting us, right?"

"Yesterday, I sent Dorlas off with a message for her. He hasn't come back yet." Faramir slid next to her and kissed her cheek. Her cool skin blushed where his lips touched it. She finally settled against him, but Faramir could tell she was uncomfortable. Her muscles felt tense and overwrought. Perhaps the prospect of meeting his father's older sister made her apprehensive.

"You'll like my aunt," he offered. "She's two years older than my father and looks far younger than he did at his death. She's past 90 and still rides every morning for a few hours. At least she did three months ago when I last saw her..." his voice trailed off when he felt Eowyn pull away and stare out the carriage window.

"It will be alright," he reassurred her. Was Eowyn as nervous as he was? Was he this nervous when they travelled to Mount Mindolluin? How different their lives had become in less than a month's time. This was only their second journey together, in quite different circumstances.

"First, let's stop for breakfast," he said as the carriage turned into a cul de sac. "I've something for you to see." The view beyond the driver's bench consisted of rows of graceful, two-story townhouses of freshly cleaned pink marble on either side of the unpretentious cobblestone pavement. Faramir's townhouse was indistinguishable from the other buildings, save for the Tower Guardsmen in full armor at the arched front door.

Faramir helped Eowyn out of the carriage and escorted her past the Guardsman. "Who lives here?" she asked while the Guardsman opened the door.

Greeting them in the archway, forelegs spread wide, Cirion stared up at them and blinked his gold eyes. The cat answered Eowyn's question with a plaintive and very loud meow. She picked up him up and held him to her breast. "You live here," Eowyn said, her lips grazing the top of Ciri's head. Her eyes lifted and caught Faramir's.

"This is the house where I found Ciri," Faramir explained. "It's his home, first and foremost. I've made it my home in Minas Tirith." Her face lit up as he put an arm across her shoulder and led her inside.

In the main room a table was spread with bread, fruits, and breakfast meats, nicely arranged for their consumption. They sat down on the bench beside the table and gazed at the food for a moment without speaking. Then Eowyn put the cat in her lap and reached for an orange.

Faramir poured cups of kavay from a steaming kettle. Eowyn split the orange in pieces. She teased Ciri by flipping an orange peel across his small feet. Then she tossed the peel onto the floor. The kitten bounded after it, rolling on his belly with the peel coiled around his legs.

"Do you like oranges?" she looked up abruptly. When he replied, Eowyn lifted her hand, brushed Faramir's mouth with an orange section, and then continued moving her hand past his mouth. He caught her wrist and directed the orange piece back to his mouth. He gulped down the fruit and then said, "A fine way to feed me."

Eowyn ate an orange section and then grinned shyly, "I'm not really hungry, though I will have some kavay. I've developed a taste for this odd beverage."

She was nervous, tentative, Faramir concluded as he watched her sip the brew.

Removing the steaming mug from her lips, Eowyn whispered, "We are alone for the first time since we snuck into the Apothecary."

He took a long sip of his own kavay, and then said, "The Apothecary, yes, but Dame Ioreth caught us. Now, however...you are not afraid, are you, lady? Your fingers tremble a little."

"This drink makes my heart beat faster," she explained, perhaps too quickly.

Kavay did warm the heart, Faramir thought. However, he had perceived Eowyn's unease since she climbed into the carriage with him. "I will not harm you," he said. "We can leave, if you prefer."

She examined a chunk of the newly baked bread, but did not eat it. "How long does it take by boat to get from here to the field where the armies are waiting?"

"Six hours or so depending on how swift the river current is," Faramir responded, surprised by her question. "The snow melt is great at this time of year. The oarsmen will have to fight against the current to get to the Cormallen. It's not that far away."

"Then my brother could have gotten the message from Prince Imrahil two days ago?"

"Yes. We could have had his response as early as yesterday evening. I've heard nothing yet."

"Perhaps a message will come from Eomer while we are away," she pointed out.

Faramir rested his hand gently at the top of her head and studied Eowyn's face, "If you prefer, we can take our journey another time, so that you can be here when Eomer's response comes. If it comes."

Her back straightened; she arched her neck and, characteristically stuck out her proud chin. "At the moment, I would prefer to see your home, especially if some day I will also live here. I am glad that we are finally alone."

Abundantly relieved, Faramir rose to his feet, "Come then, and see the rest of the townhouse." Eowyn stood. Somehow her good arm found its way round his neck, her bound arm wrapped gently along his back as she guided him into her arms. They kissed long and leisurely. Eowyn's body pressed against him, her muscles tight as a bow string, almost desperate in their longing. Or was it his own body being driven crazy by longing?

Faramir laughed and disengaged himself. "Perhaps we should stay here awhile longer then," he said. He went to the door and signaled to the guard to pack the food, save for the kavay, for their long carriage ride.

She stood alone in the room, like a statue that had suddenly started to glow. "Let's have the tour of the townhouse, shall we?" Faramir said, and rested his hand around Eowyn's waist. He took her about the main room, introducing her to the furniture and confessing his dreams for the room in the future. Next, he showed her the two recessed alcoves built into the walls, to serve as bowers for overnight guests. Then they went outside onto the patio and the bare patch of earth that extended to the walls.

"Here we can have an herb garden," Eowyn said, "with fresh herbs for our food every night."

"Speaking of food, come see this," Faramir gestured to the staircase at the end of the patio. He led her down the stairs to a long hallway. They walked in the first door, which opened onto a huge pantry. There were tables for preparing food, racks for drying and processing food, and a deep fireplace built into the wall. "We have this for cooking plus the bread oven outside."

"Will we have servants? And a cook?" Eowyn gulped.

"Whatever you wish. We have quarters for two servants down the hall. There isn't room for a huge household, but you will be the head of it," Faramir beamed and implusively spun her around.

"I never really learned how to cook," Eowyn blushed, wrapping her right arm around the brace that bolstered her left arm. "I can make a few things, but not very well. I confess that I am better at making medicines. I was raised in a household full of men who relied on our female servants to cook for us."

Faramir burst out laughing,"You grew up surrounded by warriors and not one of them would cook?"

"What's so funny about that?" Eowyn retorted.

"All rangers learn to cook as part of our basic training. We survive in the wild with few non-combatant personnel. All must do survelliance. All must do battle. All must share cooking responsibilities. I designed and organized this pantry especially for me to cook in. Nevertheless, I will share it with you and whatever cook you hire--as long as you agree to share my lamb grilled on sticks with onions, peppers, and tomatoes. It's a secret recipe we saw the Haradrim cook on more than one occasion."

"The food of the Haradrim has found its way into the Gondorian diet, I see," Eowyn said. She followed him back onto the patio and then into the main room again. Faramir sighed. He would take her upstairs, but what might she think? He was quite proud of the way the upstairs rooms turned out.

"Do not think me dishonorable, but I would like to show you the family's quarters," he spoke gently. Eowyn gave no indication that she was insulted or afraid by his suggestion. She stepped ahead of him and waited at the top of the stairs in a small hallway. Faramir led Eowyn through the
nearer door into a small bedroom.

"This bedroom could be used for your maid servants, though it could do well for children. The chest was my brother's. The bed is new." Eowyn looked about, checked the bed, and then went to the window, which looked out onto the street. She nodded her head but was otherwise silent. Then he gestured to the adjoining room.

"This is the master's bedroom," he said while they entered.

"It's lovely," Eowyn said softly. "It's so big, larger than any bedrooms in the Golden Hall, save the chambers of the King."

"I did not experience this myself, but I was told that an entire family of a Guild's man might live in the same room until the children were about eight years old. This is a Guild man's bed. It's for everyone."

"They must have happy lives," Eowyn's voice was scarcily above a whisper. She walked up to the bed, fingered the drawn curtains, and pressed her hand upon the mattress. "We do not sleep on such thick pads in the Mark. Does that explain the longer lives of the Gondorians?"

"More likely that explains why Mithrandir complained that the Gondorians had become soft. Most Numenoreans slept on thin pallets, or so ourhistory books tell us.

"Eowyn?"

"Yes?"

"Are you uncomfortable here?"

"I am hot. It is a little stuffy."

"I should have opened the windows this morning," Faramir apologized. He went to the windows and pushed them aside. The midmorning sun burned upon the patio below. "My mother's jewels are in this chest," he said. He stood for a moment, looking at his nascient garden and enjoying the feel of the cool wind on his face. Then he knelt down and opened the chest beneath the window. Inside were troves of smaller boxes and some loose strands of glittering gems. "Come take a look at these. Surely there are some items of great beauty and age here."

When Eowyn didn't respond, Faramir twisted about and then froze. Eowyn had loosed the laces of her soft cote, which now floated about her feet. She stood near the bed, proud and unashamed, in a simple chemise so sheer that it revealed the outlines of her breasts and her curving hips. Her beauty and glory astounded him, yet she was real, earthy, and terribly vulnerable. No hint of guile was on her face--just an open, honest look that no man needed farsight to read.

Like a dolt Faramir sat on the floor, amazed at this turn of events. Why had he feared she might think he meant to seduce her by bringing her to the bedrooms? Instead, in her innocent, tentative fashion, she revealed that her purpose was to seduce him.

"Are you sure you want this?" Faramir managed to pick himself off the floor. He walked very slowly towards Eowyn, locking her eyes with his gaze. "Do you not want to wait until our wedding? I hold you in honor, lady; I will not press you for sexual gifts."

"Ah, but I will press you," she returned his look, strong and clear. Her hands reached up to the laces on his tunic. "When will our wedding be? When my brother has brought order to all of Rohan and is finally free to hold celebrations? I have waited long enough. I can wait no longer."

A well-mannered Gondorian male would have reached down, picked up her dress, and covered her with it. He would have told her that their wedding could not be far off, and wouldn't she much prefer to be a virgin in her marriage bed?

He placed two fingers beneath her beloved cleft chin and turned her head up to him. "A life of war has beatened my sense of honor down to near nothing. But one thing I do remember from the days when I was an honorable soldier--never keep a lady waiting."

Faramir kissed Eowyn swiftly, a quick, chaste kiss. Then he slipped one hand around her back and the other beneath her hindquarters. She clutched him and squealed as he hoisted her onto the huge bed. "Wild woman!" he cried as her hands reached up to loose the lacings of his cote.

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"It's time for us to go in to the Queen's chamber," Faramir advised his liege over their second mug of ale.

Aragorn drained the last bits of his brew, "Isn't this a woman's tradition?" he asked. "Perhaps they want to have a few more minutes to tease Eowyn and shower advice over her head. The only part of such a party that might be of interest to a man is wagering on the sex of your child."

"She's having a boy," Faramir slammed his mug on the table and bowed slightly to the king.

"No doubt your farsight has told you thus," Aragorn said. He rose to his feet and tapped his Steward's shoulder briskly.

"My farsight and Ioreth's stories of the wise women of Gondor indicate a boy child," Faramir grumbled. "Now, my liege, for the part of the celebration that involves us. Do you remember all the verses?"

Aragorn's servants draped the thick royal robes over his shoulders and placed one of his lighter crowns on his head.

"Of course I remember all the verses," the king assured Faramir. "I am astonished how popular this lay has become. They sing it in all the lands north of Rohan. I have a new verse that Lord Elrond's son Elrohir has composed. And two new ones from the Shire, contributed by Merry Brandybuck himself, the eye witness. For myself, I have written a new verse in honor of this occasion."

"Then let us go in and entertain the ladies!"

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END NOTES

* Eowyn's elaborate Rohirric dowry necklace is actually based on the contemporary dowry necklaces worn by the fellahin, the peasants of Upper Egypt.

** To find out the exact contents of Faramir and Eowyn's contract of betrothal, see my story "Family Matters," also archived on Stories of Arda.

As far as Faramir's aunt is concerned, there is unending speculation on this subject. A discussion I read on the Brothers of Gondor web site mentioned that Tolkien had once thought to give Denethor II an older sister. Because this factoid is in the History of Middle Earth, it could hardly be considered canon. However, I liked the notion and gave Faramir an aunt on his father's side.