The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate.no profit has been,nor will be made from this story.

Homecoming

As expected, two days later the guards returned to escort the King and his friends back to Minas Tirith.

Aragorn had still not decided what to do with the Hunting Lodge. He had known much suffering there, but also found friendship that he had been yearning for. He assured the servants that whatever was decided, they would be provided for.  Aragorn told the Housekeep to keep Elbeth indoors when they departed. He had no wish for the child to be distressed by the sight of her mother being bound, and fastened to a burly guard. Aragorn had ordered that she be taken to the asylum just outside the city, where she would be kept secured and cared for until she regained her sanity.

Still recovering from their injuries, Aragorn and Faramir travelled slowly and stopped frequently. If the Captain was surprised at the leisurely pace, he was too well disciplined to remark upon it. Hanna endured the journey with ill grace/ She ranted and screamed wild accusations, which grew ever more preposterous.

They were relieved when they reached their destination and she could be given over to the care of the Chief Warden of the Asylum. Aragorn instructed him to keep her under careful watch. He added her desired that she be well fed and housed and treated with kindness.

As Aragorn bade the Warden farewell and turned to depart, Hanna screamed at them, “I curse you, false King of Gondor! I curse you and your worthless Steward! May you know only pain and sorrow!”  Her mood then changed again and she laughed wildly as the doors shut behind her.

Faramir shuddered.

“Pay no heed to her ravings, the poor woman has lost her wits!” Aragorn told him reassuringly. “Let us hope that she will recover with proper care.”

***

By late afternoon, they came in sight of Minas Tirith. Faramir’s heart leapt to see it again. However many times he returned to the city of his birth, he always felt the same thrill on the first sight of the White Tower.

“As soon as we have rested, join me in your father’s old apartments and we shall treat our scars.” Aragorn told Faramir as they arrived in the Courtyard of the Fountain, where the White Tree was already covered with fresh green leaves.

Faramir hesitated slightly and then looked at the tree. The sturdy sapling, alive with new growth marked a new beginning. Faramir realised that he too, had the chance to heal the scars of his past. He smiled his acceptance to the King. “Yes, sire, I will await your summons.” Faramir said, reverting back to formality now they were in a public place.

Éowyn took her husbands arm and they prepared to go their separate ways.

“My Lord Steward!” Aragorn caught Faramir’s arm before he could go, “Thank you for everything!” He drew the younger man close and embraced him, before repeating the gesture with Éowyn, “I will see you again very soon, my friends.”

“It almost feels strange without him!”  Éowyn mused as they reached their own rooms voicing Faramir’s unspoken thoughts as well.

“I never thought I would hear you say that!” Faramir replied, “I am so glad everything is now well between us all.”

Éowyn's reply was to kiss him passionately. Faramir joyfully responded.

***

Arwen was eagerly awaiting her husband’s return. She watched him arrive from her window before hurrying down to greet him. She welcomed Aragorn home with a warm smile. Both were far too well controlled to show the true depth of their emotions in public.

Aragorn was delighted to see how well and happy Arwen appeared. A slight fullness of her figure proclaimed her impending motherhood to a keen observer such as her husband. He felt it served only to enhance her beauty.

“Are you well, my love?” Aragorn asked her as soon as they were in their private apartments. He kissed her warmly, before enfolding her in a close embrace.

“I have never felt better,” Arwen smiled at him happily. “I have such wonderful news to tell you too. My brothers and grandfather have decided against sailing yet. They are staying at Imladris! They are out riding at the moment, but should be back in time for dinner. Did you find what you sought while you were away?”

”Faramir and Éowyn are now my good friends,” Aragorn told her. “Our plans went awry when some ruffians attacked us, but it all served to bring us together in friendship.”

Arwen looked alarmed and studied him more closely. “Were you badly hurt, my beloved? You do look rather pale. And your poor hands! Whatever has happened to them?”

“I took a slight arrow wound, but I am fully recovered now. I also helped rescue a child from a fire, which is a long story.” Aragorn assured her. ”There is nothing to worry about. I just need to rest and bathe.” He intended to tell her the whole story one day, but not until after their child was born. Usually she could sense his thoughts, but being with child had blunted her ability to read his mind. He missed their mental closeness, but was glad now that he need not distress her while she carried his child. The loss of the ability to read thoughts was maybe nature’s way of protecting the unborn child by keeping the mother calm.  “I must change from these travel stained clothes!” Aragorn said, “I must reek as foul as in my days as a Ranger!”

He retired to his dressing room, leaving Arwen to summon a servant to bring light refreshments. He shed his travelling clothes, together with the thick bandaging that Éowyn had insisted he wear to protect his freshly healed wounds. They were sore from being chafed when he rode, but none had reopened, much to his relief.

Once Aragorn and Arwen seated together enjoying a light meal, she proceeded to tell him delightedly about her brothers’ plans for their future at Rivendell.  “We must go and visit them there,” she said. “We could invite Faramir and Éowyn too. I thought the hunting lodge was just the place for you to befriend them! I hope you all huddled together on one of those huge beds and talked well into the night by the fire!”

Although Aragorn was loth to tell her everything until after the baby was born, he wanted to confess immediately about Éowyn’s presence in the same bed to prevent any possible future misunderstanding. He flushed slightly. “Yes, we did spend our nights together,” he confided. “When I was wounded, Éowyn needed to stay close by me lest her healing skills were needed. Faramir was next to me while she slept the other side of him. How did you guess? I swear nothing improper took place.”

“You have no need to tell me that, beloved, I know you would never be unfaithful to me, “Arwen replied, tenderly kissing his lips. “My ladies have told me about the men’s traditions when on hunting trips. I assumed Éowyn, as a daughter of the Mark, would be untroubled. I was very much hoping Faramir would have the chance to hear you snoring. I knew he would not be so in awe of you afterwards!"

 “I do not snore! “ Aragorn protested.

“You do! But I still missed you beside me!” Arwen replied.

“I missed you too!” His lips met hers in a passionate kiss. They drew together in a close embrace. He flinched very slightly as his wounds were still tender.

“Your wound!” she exclaimed, tears filling her gentle eyes, “Let me see!”

He smiled at her reassuringly. Already prepared for this eventuality, he pulled his shirt aside just enough for her to see the almost healed arrow wound, while keeping the other scars covered.

“See, it is almost mended!” he reassured her, “Éowyn treated it most skilfully. It was worth being wounded, since it caused her to soften towards me, while Faramir lost his fear, when he saw that I am just a Man like he! Some ruffians, who bore a grudge against us from the war, attacked us. They were soon despatched, though. I thought when I had rested and eaten, to treat Faramir’s old battle scars together with my own with the Elven healing remedy.”

Aragorn held his breath as his Queen traced gentle fingers across the scar, hoping she would not investigate further. To his great relief, she seemed satisfied and allowed him to pull his shirt back in place.

“My silk shirt saved me from serious injury,” he explained, “We must see about equipping all our soldiers with silk shirts to protect them in battle.”

“A wise idea!” Arwen conceded and then to Aragorn’s bewilderment suddenly laughed.

“I was thinking about Faramir,” she explained, “I should love to see his face when you have the treatment for your scars together. He is so reserved and shy, quite unlike Elves!”

They ate their light meal, and then simply sat together, the King’s head resting on his lady’s shoulder. There had been times during the last weeks when Aragorn had feared he would never see her again in this life. He savoured her presence more than ever now. The restlessness that had plagued him had disappeared and he felt whole. He had not only his beloved wife, but would soon be a father too. Also, he now had good friends to experience the many different facets of human love with. Arwen had been right when she had told him that love was like a rainbow, which needed all the colours to complete it.

***

Faramir began to feel slightly apprehensive while he rested. He knew it was time he joined Aragorn. He very much wished now that he had asked the King what he planned to do to treat his scars.

Éowyn grabbed his hands and pulled up him from the couch where they had been resting, in a mock show of strength. “Go!” she ordered. “ Accept the King’s help. I know how much those scars pain you.”

“I would gladly be rid of them.” he replied. “But I have no idea what this treatment entails!”

“Some sort of salve, I would surmise.” she replied, “What else could it be? It probably stings somewhat, or smells unpleasant. Now go to him, before he thinks you have changed your mind.”

**

Aragorn was already waiting in the rooms, which had been occupied in the past by the Ruling Steward. He had ordered the huge sunken bath to be filled with hot water.

The King now used these rooms and he would sometimes sleep here when he craved solitude. It was customary for high-ranking couples, each to have their own apartments. Much as Aragorn loved his wife, there were times he needed to be alone, as did she.

The King’s wounds still pained him. Aragorn was not greatly looking forward to what was to come, especially Faramir’s reaction. He supposed he should have told him what the treatment entailed. He knew, though if he had done so, his Steward would most likely have firmly refused to be healed unless ordered. He would never have abused his authority to force him to be treated.

Aragorn had felt drawn to Faramir from their first meeting, seeing him as the son a man of his age might have hoped to be blessed with. He had hoped at first simply to be on cordial terms with the man whose rule he had succeeded, but had gradually grown to love the younger man as a father would a son. Aragorn yearned to see Faramir well and as happy in his new life as his lord.

Going to the chest in the bedroom, where he kept his healing supplies, Aragorn took out a jar of a brownish green power, which he sprinkled liberally into the bath water. While waiting for it to dissolve, he selected a jar of salve and placed it on the bedside table. At his request, the servants had brought large quantities of towels, some of which he spread over the bed. He then returned to the bathing chamber carrying two bathing robes, which he placed, folded, on the top of the steps. The bath was now ready. Still moving a little stiffly, he undressed and climbed into the tub, gritting his teeth against the stinging sensation he knew he would feel.

After a few moments, he heard footsteps, followed by a tentative knock on the door. “I am here Faramir, come in!” Aragorn called.

Faramir obeyed, feeling somewhat puzzled. He had expected the King to be waiting with a salve or a potion of some sort, not that he knew much about Elven healing techniques. He slowly entered the bathing chamber, and stood at the top of the steps, gaping with astonishment at the sight that greeted him.

TBC