These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. This story was written purely for pleasure and not for profit.

The Gulf Widens

“Come then, I will take you to him, I fear that being injured has not improved his temper!” Aragorn supported Faramir by his good arm and led him down the corridor to Éomer’s room, hoping fervently that seeing Faramir’s obvious frailty would soften the King of Rohan.

"I can walk unaided, please let me be!" Faramir said.

Reluctantly, Aragorn released his Steward’s arm, trying to hide the hurt he felt at Faramir's very obvious rejection.

The Steward’s steps were slow and unsteady and he leaned heavily on a cane for support, continuing to refuse Aragorn’s proffered arm.

“How badly did I hurt Éomer?” Faramir enquired.

“Your sword caught him across the chest,” Aragorn replied, quickly elaborating when he saw the horror in Faramir’s eyes, “The wound touched no vital organ. It is healing well with no trace of infection. His worse injuries were sustained when he fell down the steps, which was not your fault.”

“I am so sorry,” Faramir sighed, breathing heavily with the effort of putting one foot before the other.

Éomer was sitting up in a chair. He hated lying abed and had insisted on rising and dressing a few days ago. He was still too weak to walk very far though, much to his chagrin.

His injuries were mending fast, mainly thanks to Aragorn using his healing abilities when they were first inflicted and the advantage of a robust constitution.

What troubled Éomer most, though, was the loss of sensation in his sword arm, which hung limply by his side. Neither Aragorn nor the other Healers knew what was causing the problem. They did not know either if he would ever be able to wield a sword or even ride a spirited horse again.

The King of Rohan continued to refuse Aragorn’s offers of Elven remedies. Having been brought up to associate powerful Elves with sorcery, he considered their lore too dangerous for men to meddle with.

His sister had assured him Elven treatments were quite safe. He had concurred that they probably were for women, as they did not have to worry about their virility as men did. Had he not seen with his own eyes the Lady of the Golden Wood and how her husband appeared in thrall to her? The fair Sorceress had almost caused him and Gimli to come to blows!

Many of Éomer’s men had now returned home, carrying messages to his Queen and his Marshals Elfhelm and Erkenbrand, informing them that they would have to govern in his place until he was fit to return. He feared that would not be for some time yet.

The King of Rohan refused to even consider travelling until he could sit on a horse. The prospect of a Horse Lord returning to his lands in a wagon was too great a humiliation to contemplate.

Éowyn was sitting on the chair opposite her brother, vainly trying to improve his mood by reading an account of the Greatest Battles of Gondor to him. He looked so bored; she wished she had tried to find one about horse breeding instead.

Together with Aragorn and the senior Healers, his sister was one of the few prepared to tolerate Éomer’s volatile moods, which had plagued him since his head injury. Both Healers and servants alike had been reduced almost to tears by his behaviour.

Éowyn could see only the brother who had defended her fiercely when they had first come to Edoras as two friendless orphans under the care of a kindly, yet often distracted royal Uncle and had continued as her protector ever since. The guilt gnawed at her relentlessly that her folly in writing that letter had brought both her husband and her brother so low. Éomer had always been so strong and vigorous, his skills both on horseback and with the sword and spear, easily surpassing those of all his peers. It almost broke her heart to see him struggling to lift his useless arm, which had once been so strong.

Aragorn knocked and entered the room, closely followed by Faramir.

Éomer flushed with rage at the sight of his bother in law.

“Why have you brought my attacker here, Aragorn?” he asked with biting anger. ”Does he think to finish me off now? As if he hasn’t done enough damage already by leaving me paralysed!”

“How dare you speak of my husband like that?” Éowyn snapped. She dropped the book and went to help support Faramir, who was now forced to accept her help. His legs grew unsteadier by the minute while his heart pounded, as if trying to burst from his damaged chest.

“Peace, Éomer!” Aragorn said in a warning tone.

“I wish to apologise to you for the hurts I have caused you,” Faramir said earnestly, trying unsuccessfully to kneel. “I swear, I meant only to defend myself and never intended you to suffer such injuries. I take full blame for them and freely accept judgement at your hands! I will apologise again in public.”

“No one is going to punish my Steward! He sought only to defend himself!” Aragorn interrupted in a tone so grim, that lesser men would have quailed.

“That is not all!” Éomer glowered, ignoring Aragorn’s rebuke, “You dishonoured my sister when you made her lie with another! You did not attempt to deny it before we fought!”

Faramir flushed scarlet. “There was no impropriety. The King was near death and very cold, for us both to hold him close seemed to be the only way to save him.”

Éomer turned to Aragorn.” It was you? You said nothing of this neither did Éowyn!”

It was Aragorn’s turn to blush. “I did not know, I was only dimly aware that someone held me that night, but thought it to be Faramir alone.”

“I would gladly do the same for an injured brother, but never would I be so base as to involve my wife and dishonour her thus!” Éomer snarled, “Whose idea was it to do such a thing? Did Éowyn choose freely?”

“I begged her to lie beside the King,” Faramir replied.

Aragorn and Éowyn looked at him in bewilderment. It seemed almost as if he wanted Éomer to think badly of him and made no sense.

“I freely consented and there was no dishonour as I have kept trying to tell you these past days,” Éowyn snapped. “I would not mention the King’s name before since I had no desire to embarrass him. Whatever do you think of me, brother?”

“That I made a mistake in letting you marry this man! He must have mistreated you or you would not have written to me in such distress! Obviously you are too afraid of him to tell me the truth!”

“Faramir is a good husband who loves me and has never ill treated me!” Éowyn said indignantly. “We had some misunderstandings to begin with, but he always treated me with respect. As for my honour, none questioned it before you, brother, now half of Gondor must think I have none!”

Holding on to the chair with his good arm, Éomer slowly rose to his feet. “ Lord Faramir, not only did you dishonour my sister, but you almost killed me and left Rohan without a King,” he said. “I can never pardon you for such deeds, attempting to kill a King is an offence punishable by death!”

It was Éowyn’s turn to look uncomfortable. Aragorn gave her his most compassionate smile.

“Because my misguided sister seems to love you and Aragorn is my friend, I will not demand your life,” Éomer continued, “But do not think that I can ever forgive you! I forbid you ever again to cross the borders of the Mark. I do not wish to see you ever again so long as I live! If my sister wishes to visit me, she must leave you behind. For my part, I refuse to return to Gondor, once I am well enough to leave, while it houses this miscreant! My curse be upon you!”

Faramir gave a cry and would have collapsed had not Aragorn and Éowyn supported him.

“Why was I ever born to be the cause such misery? This is all my fault!” he whispered, “King Éomer, I accept your judgement on me.”

“Éomer, remember it was you who started this fight and almost killed my Steward!” Aragorn remonstrated. “Faramir has said he is willing to make you a public apology and I expect the same of you!”

“Never! He almost killed me!” Éomer retorted. “Now leave me all you, am I not king? Must I call for my Guards?”

“Faramir has suffered a great deal too!” Éowyn remonstrated, “If he showed you his wounds, then maybe …”

”Please, no!” Faramir begged, looking very distressed.

“Get that good for nothing out of my sight before I have him thrown out!” Éomer raged.” I cannot use my sword arm because of him!”

Aragorn bit his tongue, for this was not the right moment to remind Éomer that he was the High King of Gondor with the ultimate authority here. Getting Faramir away from his angry brother in law had to be his first priority, as well as avoiding further distressing the heavily pregnant Éowyn and preventing Éomer from aggravating his wounds.

Together they made it through the door.

“Do you want to go and lie down again in my room?” Aragorn asked Faramir, who was pale and shaking visibly.

“No, I would go home if Éowyn still wants me there.”

“Of course, I do, my love!” Éowyn replied. “Do not worry about my brother, his anger will fade. He often speaks before he thinks and he is greatly distressed by his disability, for one such as he, it is a fate worse than death.”

“I am sorry if I was the cause of any shame to you, Éowyn, I cannot remember the events of that night which so distress your brother.” Aragorn said uncomfortably.

“There is nothing to remember. You were cold and in shock so Faramir and I kept you warm, that is all that happened.” Éowyn replied, “As for my brother, I have no desire to discuss the matter again with him! He seems to think I am no better than a whore!”

“I gravely wounded him. And I fear I did wrong you, Éowyn,” Faramir said miserably.

“I was forgiven for far worse conduct,” Éowyn replied, looking at Aragorn. ”If only I had never written that letter!”

“Peace my friends!” Aragorn said, trying to soothe them. “All that matters now is that Faramir gets well. Éomer’s judgement may well be clouded by the blow he took to this head. We can only wait and hope that he will soften in time.”

He summoned servants to carry Faramir to his apartments on a litter. Éowyn directed them to the martial bedchamber and then dismissed them.

The King helped Éowyn put her husband to bed. Faramir hardly said a word through the proceedings. He appeared to be in a state of shock and Aragorn mixed up a potion of hops and valerian to calm him and help him sleep.

“I am well.” Faramir insisted as they fussed round him. Eventually Aragorn left, albeit reluctantly, leaving a supply of all the herbs Faramir needed and hoping once alone with his wife, Faramir might start to recover. After all, she had not given the order to arrest him, which had led to his serious injuries.

“I am so sorry!” Faramir told Éowyn, “I understand if you wish to leave me and return to Rohan with your brother!”

“How could you say such a thing?” Éowyn replied, kissing him. She noted sadly how he flinched away from her “I will hear no more of such foolish thoughts! Much as I love my brother, I will not permit him to come between us.”

“I think it would be better if I slept in my dressing room, as I might disturb you here.” Faramir suggested.

“Indeed not, I need to be near you, so I can keep an eye on you,” Éowyn replied, “If you sleep in your dressing room, so do I!”

Faramir sighed and said no more, hoping that as it was a large bed, he would be far enough away from his wife so not to taint her with his shame.

Éowyn settled herself by her husband’s bedside and cried quietly once he fell asleep. She loved him dearly, yet she also loved her brother and did not wish to be estranged from him. To think that her own folly should have left her so torn between those she loved the most!

**

“You look distressed!” Arwen exclaimed, when Aragorn returned to their apartments.

“Faramir seems to hardly be able to bear the sight of me, Éomer refuses to forgive him and Éowyn is torn between them!” Aragorn sighed, “I just do not know what to do!”

“Go to bed!” Arwen ordered, noting with alarm how pale and haggard he had become. “You are exhausted and will be ill yourself if you do not take care!”

“I cannot, there is so much to do!” Aragorn protested, “ Faramir or Éomer might need me and I have documents to deal with and the Council…”

Arwen threw his nightshirt at him. “We have other Healers in this city and Imrahil can deal with everything else once he returns tomorrow. Get into bed now!” she ordered, “Or do you want Ioreth and I to undress you as she is coming to see me within the hour!”

Alarmed by her threat, and too weary to protest, Aragorn obediently retired to his dressing room to change while Arwen sent to the kitchens for some broth, which she sat spooning into her husband’s mouth once he was in bed.

He then fell asleep almost immediately .So great was his exhaustion that he slept for several days, only waking to eat and drink and answer nature’s calls.

Arwen spent most of those days lying or sitting beside him while she nursed Eldarion.

The Queen fretted over her husband’s condition. Prolonged healing sessions drained even her father, and Aragorn was a frail mortal, not of the Eldar. The King was also plagued by fearsome nightmares, which Arwen’s touch alone could soothe.

When he finally had slept his fill, he was, much to her relief, fully restored in body, but she could tell his soul was still deeply troubled.

**

As soon as Aragorn was up and dressed, he immediately sent a message asking if Faramir would like to see him. The servant brought back the reply that the Steward had no wish to trouble his lord.

Aragorn wept as his wife vainly tried to comfort him. “However am I to protect you and Eldarion as I could not even protect my Steward?” he sobbed, “I miss him so much! How he must hate me for having him arrested!”

“Give him time!” she counselled, ”The hurts will fade and he will seek you out again. I am certain he will for I know of the love he bears you.”

Aragorn tried to busy himself with matters of State and console himself with Arwen and Eldarion. Much as he adored them, his mind kept wandering back to the friend he missed so much and remembering all they had shared during the past years since Faramir was the first to hail him as King.

Éowyn came to visit, intending to tell Aragorn how worried she was about Faramir. He continued to shy away from her touch and hardly spoke to her. He was dragging himself out of bed each morning, only to shut himself in his study all day.

She had wanted to ask the King if he could tell her if Faramir’s wounds were healing, as he refused to let her see them. She assumed Aragorn was treating him when he saw his Steward on official business.

Éowyn was horrified when she saw just how exhausted and haggard Aragorn looked. He seemed almost to have aged overnight, which made her feel she could hardly burden him with her problems, as well as asking him to betray the confidence between Healer and patient. She confined the conversation to women’s’ matters such as how Arwen was recovering from the birth and her own pregnancy.

She avoided Aragorn after that. His obvious sorrow only emphasised her own guilt.

TBC

A/N The night referred to is described in Shadow and Thought, also on this site. Éowyn writes her letter in the same story.