~~~~

The Sun shone brightly in the distance and brought warmth to the lands of Gondor, such that even the Lady Éowyn could feel and take comfort in. She walked the gardens still, alone now that the Lord Faramir had quit the Houses to turn the City anew for the King’s coming. And of the people that dwelt within its walls she alone was troubled and her eyes were downcast. What lightness of heart and ease of mind had come to her in the days past were gone now, and although the shadow had departed she thought to see it round her still, in a wearied present and the dim days of an uncertain future.

No man or woman here could see her for that which she was; they would speak in wonder of her deeds in battle, praise her for her valour and ever thank her for vanquishing the Nazgûl King, yet they only grasped half truths. For in their eyes she saw that she received the glory she had once desired, but found no understanding. To them she was a thing of wonder, the wild shieldmaiden hailing from the North to bring hope to their City in their hour of need, and not a woman alive and breathing, except when they sought to bring her to health. And she knew the subtle stares they gave here she would also find among her people, more so because she was their own and had come to them in lies and duty forsworn. For this, she had not left to join her brother in Cormallen, although she knew it pained him greatly, for many a messenger had he sent to bid her come. Yet in these Houses she remained to hide, wishing to lie unseen, unjudged, and knowing still that all here judged her, even for such a thing as walking the gardens in thought and not rejoicing with the rest.

And as she sat to lean upon the tree she saw as her own here she thought there was only one other to know of aught but celebration in these times joyous for all, and that was the Lord Faramir; for, she knew, he was bound to plan it. And then a thought unbidden came to her, that he would not lay blame or judgement, for never had she seen disapproval in his eyes, not even when she spoke to him in voice cold and words harsh. Before him, she only now saw, she could speak her mind and hide no more; or could have done so, for she had kept herself away from him, and distant; and he was gone now, and took with him the chance of open speech and plain words. And she was sorry for it.

~~~~

The sound around him overwhelmed. Loud enough to reach the Valar it was, he deemed, and perhaps deafen them as well; it engulfed and smothered, and he revelled in it. For every cheer and clang of glass and burst of laugh once more brought to him proof of victory and hope fulfilled. And, better still, the knowledge that the work of these long years had seen its end at last; the Lord Aragorn could rest.

Yet, in an instant, that thought fell silent with the laughter beside him, as his true fate came before his eyes: a new burden was set upon him that day, along with the crown upon his head, and its weight had now come to his mind once more. For he was ruler of Gondor and Arnor both, the greatest lands of Middle-earth, and the legacy of Númenor they bore he was bound to awaken. But his kingdom was half in ashes, half in shadow, and till his final breath was spent he was to bring it into light and glory, and leave it well governed for his heirs, if he should be granted the wonder and joy to have them. And he understood then that his truest work was only then beginning.

For as the War had ended the world was made weary in its wake. He knew the Men of Middle-earth could not withstand another – already their spirit had been spread too thin; live through it they could, yet their chance of rebirth as a great race would die with the fall of the last strike. This was a time of peace, and had to be so, for the sake of their future, for all that had been lost, misused, and suffered.

And as he looked into the faces and hearts of those around him a thought came plain to him – they could not fight again. The war had left them emptied and drained, although they hid it well, indeed, even from their own eyes. They were weakened. And while their enemies of old would claim to wish for peace and fellowship, too had they been freed from a master they had feared; would they not think to prove themselves by waging war in their own name? Would they not strike if they knew their old foes’ weakness? Perhaps they might not win – they surely would not – but they would care naught of rising from the ashes of battle once more if their foes were spent; and they would leave deep bleeding rents of mistrust, wounds that would not heal.

For the good of all, he knew that such a fate needed hindering; and it could only be so if their enemy had no thoughts of striking anew. He saw before him in a fancy the Men of Middle-earth, all strong, unbreakable, and, most of all, united, while Haradrim and Easterling emissaries dwelt within the City in the coming days to make peace; he saw them bear witness that Gondor and Rohan were sister-countries which could not be undone. And then he also thought to hear soft, shadowed whispers, spoken by those who could see naught of the brotherhood between them, forged in War and hardship, hope and fear. The whispers of those who had once fallen to despair, and had seen truth and wisdom in the twisted visions of their Lords, which brought their lands apart. And all things whispered, he knew, were ever heard by those who sought them.

And the ones to come from darkened lands would search, would strive to find them, in shadow and scorn and drunken nights; this split he could not allow, but neither could he alter by will alone, for an agreement between kings was not enough to bind two countries. Their people had to come together, so that for all the days to come, even if he or Éomer should fall, when men of Gondor and of Rohan would meet they would see themselves as brethren and embrace.

And while that would come to pass as days and time went by, the present moment had greater need of it, as their enemies watched and settled upon the next battle. Yet he knew the two lands could not be bound so easily, for their people were different as much as they were alike, both in spirit and in shape. While Rohirrim were of the sun and day, the Men of Gondor were of the stars and night; and this he saw plain as he gazed upon his new Steward and the Lady Éowyn, seated next to each other as custom and their stations bade. And, as he watched, he thought them to be the very images of their people, who for their qualities had great love for them. And he could see that what they were and stood for had to join, for the countries to bind; and their joining had to be known and spread to the four winds so that their people understood it could and should be so.

And in an instant his sight shifted, and he no longer saw beyond them, but them, as living Men, who thought and felt; and who, if they were wed, would be the proof their people needed to trust and love each other, as their lord and lady had. Yet did he have the right to bring this upon them? For he knew that should he ask, should Éomer ask once he understood his thoughts, they would agree to it; for the good of their countries, for their duty, they would bend to their Lords' will.

And he wondered then if asking this of them would bring their lives to ruin or give them ease and a future filled with light, and his thoughts strayed upon them both. Éowyn he knew, and thought to understand; she was as fiery as her people, yet had made her manners turn to ice in the corners of the Golden Hall in hiding from the shadow dwelling there. And she was strong, and wise beyond her years, and had seen what no other woman had ever or ever would see, to be, perhaps, the only one to truly understand the horrors of war, and rightly soothe them. But Faramir was less known to him; for he had no time to learn of Boromir’s brother save for the praise his men had given him, in wishing for his presence in the charge for the Black Gate and praying for his health upon the battle’s end, and the glimmer of his mind as Aragorn battled to wake him from the sleep of the Black Breath. By this, undaunted, stood even the healing of the City, reborn from its ashes in mere weeks by the work of one man still fighting his own wounds. And for this, although he did not know his thoughts, still he could feel what manner of man he was – strong and wise. A good man; he could be no other to win to his side the love and respect of the City while he was away, and that of all his men when he was with them.

And Aragorn also had hope that the two would soothe each other’s ails, many, heavy and dark as they were. It would indeed be the coming together of night and day, he thought, for they would bring what the other had not, even in their fears; for he would be plagued by fire and sound and scream of Nazgûl beast, while she by ice and silence. His choice would be well made with them.

And whatever doubts he still had were eased when, at one jest the hobbits made, they both smiled their first true smile that night; and as they turned towards the other, the smile may not have grown, but neither did it fade.

~~~~

Lord Faramir had once more woken in the early hours, as had been his habit of the last weeks in seeing to the hasty rebuilding of the City. This day at last he drew his breath in ease, for the King had been well welcomed; yet now the man who had only the day before named him his Steward already summoned him for counsel. And as he entered the chambers of his liege he saw him not bearing the emblems of his office and clad in glory, but donning a tunic simple and black, no crown upon his brow. Yet the worry and cares he had thought to read upon his face were there.

“Good morrow my King,” he said, and bowed his head.

“My Lord Steward,” he answered, “good morrow,” and gave an inclination of his head. This done, the King fell silent, and watched the man before him for a time, his look searching and thoughtful.

“My Lord?”

“I would speak with you plainly, Faramir,” the King said.

“Of course, my Lord.”

“There is much that needs doing, both in Gondor and Arnor, to rebuild that which once was. What war can tear asunder in one year cannot be mane anew in thrice that time, and these lands have seen too many years of war and shadow. The task at hand is difficult enough without endless meetings of council drowned in formal address which would amount to nothing in the end.” At this he stopped and searched his Steward’s face. And seeming to find there something to his liking he went on: “What I mean to say, Faramir, is that I would not wish to be treated so formally by my main advisor.”

“How would you have me address you, my Lord?” he asked, uncertain how to take the words he had heard, and wary.

“When alone, as we are now, my very name would do,” he said, and smiled at his Steward’s expression. “I would rather be counselled by a friend, and by someone who can tell me plainly if I am wrong in any one of my decisions; by someone who can deny me. That cannot be done if we are hindered by formality.”

And then some moments passed and there was understanding between them as Faramir smiled and said: “I cannot yet address you by name, for it is you whom I have waited for from my earliest years, and read about in all the legends we have of this land; your coming is still new to me, and like to something of a dream. But I shall try to see the man behind the King. ”

Then Aragorn straightened and looked as if a burden was taken from his shoulders. But little time passed, and his face darkened once more; and he walked to the window to say: “There is something else I must speak with you of.”

“My Lord?”

“How do you think the kingdoms of Middle-earth are faring?” he asked, and turned to face the other man.

“The War has taken much of them both. There are many things to rebuild. In time it would be done so, I am certain.”

“Do you think we can suffer another?”

“I cannot say,” Faramir answered, and his brow was knit with worry. “I would like to believe that we are mighty still, but... our numbers are too small and our strength too little for another Great War.” Then he raised his head and said: “Why do you ask, my Lord? Have there been signs of such a future?”

“Till now, none have come. But our old enemies will enter our gates this very day. Should they think us weak...”

“You think that they would strike… With none to lead them? ‘Tis true, if all are here, alliances can be forged; if the chance presents itself, a leader can be found... Still, could our future be so bleak? To fight another war so soon?”

“These are my thoughts as well; to even think of battle when the war of our age has barely ended seems folly, even warmongering perhaps; but we must prepare for the worst.”

“My Lord,” Faramir said, his eyes saddened of a sudden, “we have little to prepare with. Too many good men have perished; too much of what was once has been lost. In this hour, we have naught but the image of strength and the glory of the victor to shield us. Indeed, they can offer little true protection.”

“Aye; yet they have for many years. To that end, I believe that we must have all of Middle-earth that is here present see that Gondor and Rohan are bound as countries and as peoples. And that together we would stand fast before any danger.”

“Is it not so already?” Faramir asked, and the King nodded at his words.

“Aye, but there are some who have forgotten it, among our own as well; they must be reminded. And the bound must be one too strong to break.”

“You think of a renewal of the oath of Eorl.”

“There shall be that as well. But oaths can be broken, words forgotten; and actions speak louder than both. Faramir...“ he began, and walked towards the man, ”there is no manner I can say this but plain. It is but a thought in my mind, no command, nay, not even a wish of mine… Faramir... I would have the two countries united by a marriage bond.” And here he paused and seemed to draw his breath. “I would have you wed the Lady Éowyn.”

Then Faramir would have drawn back, much startled for these words; but in the end he kept his poise, and his face showed little else than his surprise, though there were many feelings vying in his heart.

“I would not ask this of you…” the King spoke once more, his voice all deep and soft.

‘And yet you do’, Faramir thought, then turned his gaze at the King’s feet, where his allegiance lay. And as he listened to his words anew, all clear in memory and thought, he found that they were true, from worries shared to friendship given. Then with his eyes turned downwards still he thought in bitter reason of what this match would bring his lands, then of the lady, and what it meant to ask this of her. For with the threat standing true before him, he knew that she would do this and agree, just as he would.

And as he looked upon his King once more he knew that he was truly Envinyatar, the Renewer, bringing new order to the world and Age, and to his life and hers.

“What does her brother, the King, say?” he asked, “And what of the lady?”

“I have yet to speak with them of this, but would rather hear your thoughts first.”

Then Faramir nodded long and slow and said:

“My Lord… you say that I should question you…” he began; but then he paused, finding no words to voice his thoughts that he could approve of.

“I did,” said Aragorn, “and would ever hear your thoughts, should you chose to share them with me. Now more than ever.”

“Then, my Lord, I mean no disrespect,” said Faramir, “but would not such an alliance seem stronger still were the lady to become a Queen?”

And saying this he thought of the Lady of Rohan once more, and how he knew that her affections had been once bestowed upon the man before him; how they perhaps were bestowed still. And how this other choice might seem to her the better, and easier to make.

“Aye, it would,” the answer came, “and you are right in that. Yet such a thing cannot be done.” And from the words of his King the Lord Steward descried some tangled feelings better hid than all that he had read from him before, yet clearer somehow; they were of sadness and regret, of hope, and doubt, and joy, and some reigned in relief that covered all – relief for what, he could not say.

“I am betrothed, my Steward,” Aragorn went on, “and have been so for many years, and more days than you have drawn your breath. And now I wait for her, and for some sign that she would come; to both our joy and to her doom.”  And his last words were whispered, as if not meant for others. Yet Faramir took notice, and started anew for the depth of the man’s feelings, and the clarity they welled in.

“Forgive me,” the King said then, and seemed to withdraw from his thoughts, “I would not speak more of this now, nay, not before some manner of sign is given so that I know that so it shall be.”

“Aye, my Lord, I understand,” Faramir said, “How long, then, may I take before I give you my answer?”

“As long as you might need; but keep in mind that the Riders would have to leave for home after a time.”

“You will have my answer before then,” he said, and left the King’s chambers at his sign. And he had many thoughts as he walked the levels of the City, and wondered whether he could indeed agree, and thus forfeit his life in quite another fashion. And yet, what of his life? The last of his years had been battered by doubt and shadow, and until the dreadful hour when he had stood upon the wall to witness all change shape before him he had nigh abandoned hope for life and any thought of future. Yet death had not come to him in these last months, although circle him it had, taking away all that was held dear to him; and though life had begun again, his own felt emptied now, and barren. Many paths lay out before him, if only he would take a step, and one of them was forged in steel and iron, and was not of his making.

And as he paced he thought once more of his Lord’s words, and so too of some arguments of old. A union sought to strengthen his lands and not his heart and life was not so foreign to him, for as second son to the Steward of Gondor such could have been his fate if need of it had come in years past. Yet it had not. And neither had love found him, even as his men grew their families before his eyes. And now that their lands were safe and his worries had passed he did not think to ever love, as wearied a heart as his own seemed. Too much had he lost, and gained too little, and he felt no wish to soar to the sky and burn, but rest, and live in peace. Yet he saw now that could not be, for one more duty lay upon him, to carry on his line for the sake of his City. At one point he would have to wed. And if the reason was the same – his duty only – why not do so when the most good could be drawn from it? And if he were to choose a lady, why not choose one who had seen as he and lost as he? One whose own scars he could give help to mend, whom he could take away and offer haven, if she so wished it.

Aye, he would wed the Lady Éowyn, if she chose to be bonded to him, for her sake and his country’s. Yet he would not place such a crooked scale upon her by speaking his agreement now. The first choice, he decided, would be hers, and so too the final one. And he would show her both her futures raw and plain, whether or not she wished to see them, and however it might pain him to speak of them so.

And so it was that his steps brought him once more to the Houses of Healing, and to the gardens where the White Lady walked still. And he saw her silent and withdrawn, as she had been the night before when the joy around them had seemed to wash over her and leave no mark; and the weight of what he would say to her hung the heavier upon his heart.

“Good morrow, my lady”, he said as he came near.

“Good morrow, my lord”, she answered, and turned her head to look upon him; and he could see her weariness, and that she was unwell at heart, but said naught of it.

“Lady, there is aught I must speak with you,” said Faramir. “I come from counsel with the King, and what we spoke of ties both to you and I. He fears, and I agree, that both our lands are weakened by the War, and so, in peril of a new attack; one that we might not withstand. As it is, we have naught but victory to keep us safe.” And here his voice fell silent, and he looked long upon her and wished that she would understand his meaning.

“What has your King decided?” Éowyn asked, her voice as cold as the blood which flowed within her at his pause.

“He has decided naught, but thinks that to avoid this threat our countries must be bound by threads stronger than an oath of old. My lady,” he began once more after a time, and his words were slow in coming, “this bond would be a wedding; we would be wed,” he said, then turned his eyes from her to leave her to her silence. And he would have stood beside her speaking no more of this, for his lips would not form his words and his ears would not hear them. But to this faltering and to the burning in his chest he paid no heed, and so went on to say:

“My lady, I know the difficulty of such news, and too the difficulty of such choice. I would you allow me to ease it a little; know that whatever answer you may give shall be my own as well, and, for my part, you need not feel worry or guilt.” Again he paused and sought his words, for there were little ways to voice his thoughts without giving offence; and too because his throat was dry, as were his lips, and speaking was a burden. “During the war my end could well have come in any moment, and so, to bind myself, my heart, to any lady-… I am not so bound, in heart or mind, and no one is so bound to me; should you agree to this there would be none to suffer.”

And he expected words from her, of righteous anger and reproach, but she was silent still; and in her heart Faramir could read naught but some great weariness, of what he could not say. And from the look upon her face she seemed to think not of these things but to be lost in some strange sight before her, one that he could not fathom. And he made ready for the awkwardness to come, and, as he turned her to look into his eyes, he spoke:

“Would you have my plain words?”

“I would,” she answered; and in his earnest gaze she took some comfort, and opened herself to listen. 

“I cannot make your choice for you, nor would I do so; but I can bring it to your eyes in reason, and unfold all it would entail. To bind yourself with me would mean to leave behind your country and your people, and all that you have ever known, to live in Gondor – or Ithilien, should the King grant my retreat there. These lands no doubt have other ways, and the beginning would be difficult. But the people are as good and worthy as your own, and they would love you, for I cannot see it differently. To leave Rohan would mean to leave behind your memories of childhood, the graves of all your kin; your brother. But also the dark reminders of the Golden Hall, and the remembered dread that might come to you in every brick and beam that you would see.”

At this he paused once more, weary of speaking; but seeing her intent upon his words he went on in a lowered voice to say:

“To leave Rohan would be to wed someone not of your choosing; to stay would, perhaps, mean the same, as you are a daughter of kings, and your choices are not your own. You could both find and lose a chance for love whether in Rohan or in Gondor. In your country your future is not yet set, not yet decided; here it will be so, for a fashion, and though your answer would be yours, the drive for it would not.”

And as he spoke she took his words to mind, and saw the truth in them. And she was thankful that he did not speak of greater things than her own fate. But as she listened she also saw her future in her mind – how she would have to yield to him, in mind and body, and much like to his people she would have to live. And then she saw herself a creature bound by her lord’s will, and the will of his City, for she would have to change to please them all, and the cage would be tightened about her. Gone would be her riding out alone outside the city walls, gone the way of the sword and her word and ear in matters of state; and as a lady of the court, she would look upon their King and Queen and crumble within in the shame of feelings past. Yet, for her country, for the lives of those who would perish in another war, and for their kin, she would agree; already she had failed her people, leaving them to the winds as she fled to do battle with her enemies and with herself. She could not once again deny her duty; there was no other choice.

And so she looked upon her husband to be, and with her face so hidden as to match his own, she said: “I will wed with you, my lord. You may give my answer to your King.”

Then with a nod Faramir left, for he had felt her need to stand alone once more; and as she looked upon the City where she would have to dwell in times to come Éowyn’s eyes were filled with tears for the lands and the people and the little freedom she would leave behind; but, as they often did, the tears dried before they fell.

~~~~

The glad days had gone by one after the other, with no change either in the weather or in the heart of the many gathered within Minas Tirith to celebrate release from shadow; but for the few whose fates would be forever changed with their passing they grew dreary and undesired. Each coming hour seemed heavier that the last for the Lady Éowyn, while Lord Faramir’s time was spent in planning and meetings of parley, so that his mind could be turned from what its passing meant. And in their waiting they saw little of the other, as if they tried to cling to their last moments apart; yet they still kept each other in their thoughts, as one does a threat which cannot be avoided.

And at last the day came when Beregond was brought before the King to hear his judgement, and many hearts were lifted when he received pardon and was bound to the protection of his Captain and Lord, for whom he had forfeited his very life; and many joyous calls came with the next ruling, which gave Faramir the lands of Ithilien so that he may build a princedom there, and dwell in Emyn Arnen with his own.

And at the end Aragorn and Éomer greeted each other and embraced, and spoke of their own kinship and of that of their realms, and all who were there took heed to their words and, agreeing with them, were glad. Then when they parted but a little the King of Rohan turned to the people and spoke:

“For many years our peoples have been blessed with the friendship between them, since the time that Eorl came forth from the North to these lands; and as the oath that he took has stood the test of the ages so too it will not fail from this day forth. And on this happy day shall the Mark and Gondor be bound with a new bond, for, lo, the Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien asks that the Lady Éowyn of Rohan be his wife, and she grants it in full heart; and they shall plight their troth before you all.” And saying this he brought forth his sister and set her hand in that of the Steward, as he stood by his King’s side; and as the crowds let out their cheers they could not see the stern gazes of the betroths nor the trembling in Éomer’s hand.

Then when the evening came and the Lord and future Lady of Ithilien were seated together in great honour they could at last speak to the other, the first of their talks since parting in the gardens. And their words were silent and soft, for they were watched by many whose eyes were filled with glee for them, as none else but the two Kings knew of their agreement.

“My lady, we do not seem a merry pair,” said Faramir, and his eyes glinted with wry humour; for he saw no other way to make lighter these moments, and for that he had great need; and not unlike his own heart did he think the Lady Éowyn’s to be.

“’Tis true, my lord,” she answered, but looked not upon him,” for there is little cause for merriment.”

To that he said no more, and what happy spirits he had brought unto his words paled with the sting of hers. But looking round the great hall in which they dined he read expectation and eagerness in the faces of the guests, more so than was between himself and her. His heart fell heavy from the lightness of tone around him, and so he fell in to the comfort of his duty; and he thought with worry how they would appear to those who watched their every move.

“Lady,” he spoke once more, “it is the night of our betrothal. Our hearts should be filled with joy, yet many hours have passed and there has been nary a smile upon our lips. All we have done will be in vain lest we appear glad for this day.”

“And would you trust me or my words in our days together should I deceive all with my smile this night?” she asked then, and her eyes shone with disdain where they held his face; and he felt them pierce his heart, and would have tuned away from the truth they bore of what she had surrendered. But he held her gaze, and for the first time wished to melt the ice which dwelt within her, not for her sake but for his own.

And then he leaned toward her, his face grave, and whispered “My apologies... Once more I ask for your forgiveness, my lady; yet I would ask more of you, that you give this night, and our days to come, an honest chance – as you would have, should your wedding had been arranged by your brother and not the Lord of another realm.” And some part of him would have had him name his King for what he had once been to her – the man she had thought to love; but such a thing was cruel and witless, and would have pained her, and he wished no pain to ail her from that moment forth. So with a soft look in his eyes he spoke once more to her: “My lady, if you shall find it in your heart to smile tonight I will have it be for joy, not duty; and here do I promise to ease your search for it.”

And though she doubted much his words and gave no answer to them, still she graced the hall with her smile that night, whether from the stories that the hobbits told when her betrothed brought her to join them, or from his own, towards the end. And when the morning came she no longer looked upon him with contempt, but found in him once more the man from the Houses of Healing whom she had spoken of her life to, and who had brought her worries ease. Then as they parted and she watched him leave, the light of the rising sun about him, she bade at last farewell to shadow and felt the warmth upon her skin, from need for life and weariness of darkness, if for nothing else.

~~~~ 

~~~~ 

Author's Notes:

I have the horrible feeling that the state of mind, thoughts and reactions of the characters are OOC. That and the fact that Aragorn's worries of a possible coming war are unfounded, and therefore the entire story has no point. I tried to write these scenes as logically as possible - the only problem is that I wrote them some months ago, and now I'm not entirely certain of them (I'm a little worried, actually). And since my opinion on them isn't exactly objective, I'd be very grateful if you reviewed and told me what you think. Thanks!