Thank you to Oleanne and Kaisaan Greenleaf for reviewing. This chapter runs directly on from the previous one, no real time gap
Éowyn was nowhere to be found in the citadel so Arwen went down to the stables, the Sheildmaiden of Rohan loved her horses like children.
"Mas he, Asfaloth?" She stroked the grey's nose, he snorted and shook his head in a way that clearly said 'I don't know' .
Arwen laughed lightly as she fetched his tack, then stopped. Someone was crying quietly nearby, obviously trying not to be heard. Indeed if she had had mortal hearing Arwen thought she might not have heard the soft noises. Cautiously she set the saddle back onto its rack and crept along the row of stalls on tiptoe, peeping around the last one on the right-hand side. Éowyn lay curled up in the large pile of straw between her horse's front feet and the stone wall that was part of the stable.
"Éowyn?" Arwen stepped into the stall, slipping down the gap between the wooden partition and the tethered bay mare who stood guard over her mistress. The elf knelt down next to her new friend/companion, stretching out a hand to touch the woman's back. "Éowyn... what's wrong?"
Éowyn twisted in a nearly impossible move, pulling herself around and up into Arwen's chest, burying her head in the other's shoulder. "Child... g...gone" she whispered through the barely checked tears, before breaking down again.
Arwen held her tight, feeling the woman's fingers clutch her dress and the shoulder start to dampen. She couldn't comfort Éowyn, couldn't say anything useful.
Neither she nor Aragorn had given much thought to having children this early on, in spite (or perhaps because of) the vision she had seen. They both had an unspoken agreement that any child of theirs should be raised in peaceful, easy times. Times which, though on nearby horizons, had not yet arrived.
Faramir and Éowyn were completely different, and in a way Arwen could see why. Both had had relatively tough family times; Éowyn loosing both her well-loved parents within a year of each other, then seeing her uncle fall into a living death at the hands of Saruman and her cousin mortally wounded by Orcs. Faramir; his mother died when he was very young and Denethor hadn't wanted a second son, had always preferred Boromir... so for 36 of his years he had lived in his brother's shadow, even beyond Boromir's untimely death. They wanted to bring children up in a different way, to have a new start. And now this...
"Ni nûr achen" she spoke softly, slipping back into Sindarin, hoping that the rhythm of the words would sooth Éowyn. Slowly she began to rock back and forth, humming a song that had been old even when she was born. Eventually Éowyn stopped crying, at least she ran out of tears, and sat back on her heels
"I'm sorry Arwen..." she bowed her head, unbound hair tumbling down over her shoulders to hide her face.
"Éowyn..." Arwen used one finger to lift her friend's chin, as Aragorn had done to her when she'd come to his coronation. The White Lady of Rohan's eyes were still dark with grief, her face wan and sickly "You should be in bed, please go and rest"
Éowyn shook her head, starting to climb to her feet "He must not know. Faramir must never know"
Arwen was quicker, leaping up and grabbing the other woman's hands "Did you tell him you were with child?" Éowyn shook her head again, Arwen smiled slightly "Then I propose a plan; we both go back up to your home now, you shall go to bed and I will do needle work nearby until dinner-time. Then we both go to dinner with the men"
"I'd rather ride out" stated Éowyn, firmly non-committal to the plan.
"Absolutely not!" Arwen grew to her full elvish height with a healer's anger. "Éowyn daughter of Éomund, you will either come and rest willingly or I will use force to make you..."
The lady meekly allowed herself to be led back into the Citadel and put to bed.
For the following hours Arwen contented herself by embroidering the new Gondorian style dress that Aragorn had bought her with designs of Nightingales. It seemed a fitting design, the first name he'd ever called her had been Tinúviel. Besides, the little birds were so sweet and naturally modest that they deserved to be worked in the finest thread, onto the best cloth. Eventually the evening bell rang, signalling that it was time for dinners to be consumed. Arwen roused her friend and helped Éowyn to dress in one of the dresses she'd bought with her from Rohan.
"Ready?" the elleth watched her friend carefully, glad to see colour back in the Rohirric woman's cheeks
"As I ever won't be" Éowyn gave a wry smile "I'd better get it over with though."
The two women entered the dining chamber to find Aragorn, Elrond and Faramir already seated. Éowyn curtsied to the first two and sat down next to her husband.
"While we've been ploughing through council reports what have you been up to?" Aragorn was first to take an interest
Arwen gave Éowyn a quick look and answered cheerily "Sewing."
Aragorn held her gaze for a minute then turned back to Faramir, who had been gathering up the courage to speak. Elrond shot a concerned look over the table in Éowyn's direction, Arwen noticed she'd already lost all colour from her face and was picking at the food rather than eating...
Faramir stopped midway through his starting breath and looked to his wife, sensing something was amiss. He put a hand on her arm "Éowyn, are you alright?"
She looked at him, everyone saw the tears brimming in her eyes.
"I'm sorry Faramir." She leapt up from the table and dashed out of the room.
The steward half rose from his seat, glancing at Aragorn "May I...?"
Aragorn nodded "Go to her."
Faramir stood up properly and followed after his wife.
He found her at the end of one of the corridors, her forehead pressed against the cold glass of the window.
"Éowyn?" she didn't reply so Faramir stepped closer, gathering her into an embrace. "What was that about?"
She twisted in his arms, pressing closer against him as the tears poured down her cheeks "I'm sorry Faramir, I'm so sorry"
"What for love? You've done nothing wrong." he spoke gently, internally scared stiff about what might have happened.
Éowyn nodded her head "I have... I'm a murderer."
Faramir bent his neck to look down at her "Éowyn? What riddles are you talking?"
A small hiccupping sob was muffled in his jerkin, then she spoke "I was pregnant, I found out a few days ago and was going to tell you today..." she took a short gasping breath "When I woke up this morning the sheets were stained with blood..." she dissolved into hopeless tears, close on hysterical.
"Oh Éowyn..." Faramir gripped her tightly in his arms, nearly crushing her against him "Shhh, shhh now... it wasn't your fault, these things happen. No-one can stop them. Hush..." He began to rock back and forth on his feet, unknowingly behaving in exactly the same way as Arwen had that afternoon, save that they were both standing rather than on their knees. As his wife quietened in his embrace he made a snap decision. Cricking his neck to look behind him he spotted the silhouette of one of the Royal Pages at the other end of the corridor.
"Bergil"
The boy trotted up and Faramir remembered once more quite what a debt he owed to the lad's father
"Please inform their Majesties that I am taking my wife home and also convey my sincere apologies." Bergil nodded and scurried off. Faramir waited for a few minutes to make sure they wouldn't run in to anyone who had seen the page leave, then wrapped one arm around his wife's waist and led her through the castle back to their home.
"Bed for you." The first words from his lips when they walked in the door, and Éowyn was grateful for them. She knew she'd shamed him by behaving like that in front of the King and Lord Elrond. Shamed him, shamed herself and also shamed Rohan. She didn't deserve the care Arwen had given her that afternoon, and now she most definitely didn't deserve her husband's love. By being sent to bed she had time to think and rationally phrase something of an apology.
But by the time Faramir slipped through the connecting door of their two chambers she still hadn't managed it.
"I -"
"Hush" he sat down on the edge of her bed and stroked the hair back from her forehead "I bear you no ill will for anything... and tonight was understandable also."
Éowyn didn't realise she was crying until she felt his thumb running across her cheek, wiping the salty drops away. She stared up at her husband, grieving blue eyes meeting compassionate brown as his hand slid down under her chin to rest on her shoulder.
"Sleep, Éowyn; White Lady of Rohan. Sleep and be healed." gently Faramir bent, pressing a chaste kiss to his love's forehead. Her eyes closed slowly, her head tilting to rest on one cheek. Only then did he stand up, taking hold of the candle stick that stood at her bedside and blowing it out.
"Sweet dreams my love." whispered the Steward as he crept back to his own room.
Translations
Mas he, Asfaloth = Where is she, Asfaloth?
Ni nûr achen = I am sad for you
Reviews please...
