Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belongs to Tolkien's estate. I do own the Sea Hawk/Lady Eirien, and would like to be asked if you want to use her in a story. Evendim, however, has permanent permission to use any of my characters that she would like to in any story she wishes to write. Cerris, Ancir, and a few others belong to Evendim and you should ask her before you use them. Thanks, ED!
Author's note: This story takes place a few weeks after the events in The Sea Hawk, which is set in Evendim's wonderful AU. I recommend that you read her stories and then the Sea Hawk before you tackle this one. It'll save time and answer a lot of the most commonly asked questions, like how Boromir survived Amon Hen. LOL
Dedications: To Evendim, who created this wonderful AU where Boromir didn't get the short end of the stick and who has graciously allowed me to play in her playground. You go, girl! Love your stuff, always! And to my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to post even one chapter of any of my stories. Love you, babe, don't ever change. J
By Honor Betrayed
Chapter One: Revelations
Eirien took a deep breath before moving forward to address the King. She had only been in Minas Tirith a short time, having arrived with Boromir earlier in the week but the King of Gondor had finally agreed to hear her arguments for a place for her people. She would much rather have been at Boromir's side, but he was being kept in strict isolation because of the fever he had developed on the trip back from Cair Andros.
She knew that Thranduil had arrived and that the Haradrim healer was in charge of Boromir's care, but that didn't ease her concern. The fever had come on suddenly, and apparently there were others who had contracted the same thing. All were being isolated. But Boromir was her concern. How and when the dashing Captain-General of Gondor had stolen her heart, she wasn't sure, but he had and that was the end of it.
Two wonderful, fun-filled, action packed weeks in Cair Andros had sealed her fate. The man was inexhaustible. Her face colored when she took a mental count of who was ahead and realized he'd gotten the better of her more often than not. Of course, there was that time in the ice cave…
She forcibly drew her mind away from such speculations and moved forward to curtsey properly to His Majesty, Elessar Telcontar as he had styled himself and his house. She kept her eyes low and waited for a signal to rise.
"Lady Eirien, it is my pleasure to meet you," came the mellow voice and she looked up as he gestured for her to rise. His entire council was seated in the room as well and she felt a moment's pause. He certainly seemed to be acknowledging her demands.
"And I you, Your Highness," she purred back smoothly. Damn these political machinations that she was being forced to employ. She'd much rather be on the deck of a ship, plotting a course for anywhere as long as it wasn't here. But she was stuck with this. Her people had no one else to speak for them.
She gave a courteous nod to the Queen, who seemed frozen upon her throne, but managed to nod back politely. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, and Eirien fleetingly wished she would leave to follow it. Then she turned her attention back to the King and was waved to a seat.
She sat, absent-mindedly toying with the quite proper rose colored gown she had chosen for the occasion while the King conferred with the Haradrim healer who had arrived in a flurry. Thranduil had also arrived and the three were in earnest conversation.
It had to be something about Boromir, for the healer to be present. She strained her ears for some hint of the news, but was unable to get any clear indication of his progress from the whispered conversation. Then the healer backed away with a small nod of his head and turned to leave the chamber…
…and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes on Eirien, who in turn was staring at him with her eyes wide as saucers. His lips moved, but no sound came forth.
Eirien was stunned. He resembled her so completely! Their appearances were so similar it was impossible to believe they were not somehow related. But her father had been a woodcrafter here in Gondor, how could that be? She had her brother, the only family she could lay claim to. Who was this man?
Dalos pulled himself together with an effort. "Your pardon, my lady," he said softly. "You remind me of someone I lost, years ago." He made to move past her.
She rose and laid a hand lightly on his arm. "No pardon needed, sir," she responded. "How is Lord Boromir? I have been refused entrance, I'm told on your orders." Her face was kept carefully composed, but the hand on his arm began to exert pressure for him to remain. "Who are you?" she hissed.
"I am Dalos, lady, a simple healer given refuge in Eryn Lasgalen by his Highness Thranduil. I am no more or less than that."
Eirien forced herself to conceal her surprise. Andurs, her father, had mentioned that name to her, had told her she owed him allegiance. But the man he had described had been a king, not a healer. She gave a mental snort at her whimsy. Of course, healers could be kings and kings, healers. Just look at Elessar.
"Forgive me, sir, but the name is familiar. But I must be about my business with the King, will you not stay and speak with me when that is concluded? Boromir must be rallying, for you to have left his side."
"His fever has broken, but he will need weeks of rest to regain his strength. This fever is most debilitating." He nodded to Thranduil, who departed to return to his adopted son, his Edain, Boromir. Then he turned again to Eirien. "Since I also will have business with the King, I shall remain." He took a seat to her left.
Eirien nodded politely to him and faced the King and his Council once more. "Thank you for permitting me this audience, Your Highness, and for your gracious pardon of my previous occupation. No harm was ever meant to you or your people. I was merely trying to hold mine together until a place could be found for them."
"That is understood, Lady," was the smooth response. Elessar allowed his eyes to drift between the two and concealed his frown of concern. Dalos, too, had indicated he had people to resettle. How many pieces would he have to break his kingdom into? He could not displace his own people for theirs, it was certain. "I am ready to hear your terms, and begin negotiations."
She nodded and moved forward to address them all correctly. "My lords, I lead the remnants of the people of Eregion, long adrift on a sea of uncertainty. Our homeland is gone, destroyed utterly. We few are all that are left, and we have grown weary of the nomadic life we have been forced to lead. We wish to settle, and are in hopes that the kindness of the King of Gondor is not exaggerated."
Elessar considered carefully. "And how many are you asking us to accommodate?" he asked, his tone reasonable. Perhaps if there were only a handful, he could still aid Dalos, whom he owed more than he could repay for the saving of Boromir.
"We are not many. A few hundred, no more. Most of our people fled to the four winds, but these are my responsibility and I must do what is right for them. Many are farmers, which would enrich your harvests as well. Some are born sailors, who could be counted on to help police the Bay of Belfalas, though piracy in that area may dwindle quickly." She colored slightly at the reminder of her former occupation, and then realization struck. "Indeed, my men would be perfect for the job of policing your waters, my lord Imrahil." She gave him an apologetic nod. "After all, if you want to catch a pirate, who better to assist than another pirate?" She returned her gaze to Elessar. "What say you, my lords? Shall we be able to settle here, or shall I have them take ship again, to somewhere more to your liking?"
Elessar glanced around at his Council and nodded. "We will decide where would be best for your people, if they will swear allegiance to Gondor and no other, and if they will forsake their pirate ways. We will notify you when we have made our decision." He turned to Dalos, who had half-risen from his seat in consternation. "We are ready to hear your petition as well."
Dalos very carefully avoided looking at Eirien when he finally found his voice. "My lord, it seems my petition has already been made. The survivors of Eregion are my people, and I am their King." He drew aside his clothing to display the collar and its gleaming adamant. "Ost-in-Edhil may be destroyed, but my people endure. And we ask of you a place to rebuild our homes, a place we might call our own."