Chapter Thirty-Six
By day, Emyn Arnen was even prettier than it had been at night. As she, Éowyn, Faramir, Cobryn, and the children explored the town, Gúthwyn was hard-pressed to stop gaping at her surroundings. With the natural exception of Lothlórien, she had never seen so many flowers or so much greenery. The dust from the roads seemed to check at the lawns bordering them, so that the air remained untainted and sweet. There were birds twittering about, serenading the newcomers. Éomund's daughter was becoming dangerously taken with the place.
Éowyn insisted on showing them each and every public building. The armory, the butchery, the tanner, the tailor—small, to be sure, with the shopkeepers most certainly well-acquainted with all of their customers, but far more impressive than anything that was to be found in Edoras. Gúthwyn found the constant reminder of how rustic Rohan was in comparison to other realms difficult to bear; she often turned her gaze to survey the exquisite foliage, which at the very least had nothing ill to say about her home.
Mercifully, the residential abodes were hardly more magnificent than those in Edoras. They were properly quaint, with only two or three rooms apiece. Gúthwyn could not help but smile when she saw happy families interacting in or around them: a husband and wife exchanging a chaste kiss just inside the door, children chasing each other in front of their houses, the occasional cluster of women sharing herbs and remedies. Yet she noticed that Éowyn did not quite have the same feelings as she: her sister's eyes darkened as she watched a group of toddlers playing tag, and an odd expression crossed her face.
Gúthwyn wondered at this, but with Cobryn and Faramir nearby she did not dare mention her troubling observations. Instead she let herself be shown the rest of Emyn Arnen, which she was forced to admit was nothing short of beautiful. It grieved her to concede in this regard, though she consoled herself by remembering that Borogor had not fallen here. His body lay to the north, lost to her forever in the dreadful forest where they had been ambushed. Perhaps in the same clearing. Maybe even beside the tree where he had taken her hands and shifted anxiously before her, where he had come so close to asking her to marry him…
She immediately scolded herself for her thoughts. The conversation she had had with Éowyn only a few hours before rose to the surface of her mind; she mulled it over for the hundredth time, carefully picking apart each sentence and dissecting every last word. Was it true that her fear of men was affecting her in ways she did not yet realize? Would Éowyn so boldly encourage her to find love if she knew about Borogor?
Yes.
The answer came to her with such definitive clarity that she did not, for an instant, doubt it. Her sister would have been sympathetic, certainly, but her outlook would remain the same. "He has been dead for almost ten years." Those words, spoken about Haldor, could easily have been about another: only a span of eight months separated the end Borogor had met from the Elf's. "A decade is too long to mourn the way you have," Gúthwyn could picture Éowyn saying, "to shy from affection as if guilty that you are somehow tarnishing his memory. If he loved you, he would want you to find someone."
Someone, yes—but who would that someone be, if Éomund's daughter dared to look?
"Sister!"
Gúthwyn jumped upon being addressed. "Yes?" she inquired, confused as she absorbed her surroundings. They appeared to have come to the edge of the town, though she could see a small path that led into the woods. "Did you say something?"
"I asked if you wanted to see where the Rangers practice," Éowyn repeated, glancing quizzically at her. "Are you feeling well?"
For Gúthwyn had suddenly paled, now desperate to come up with an excuse to avoid accepting her sister's offer. So far, she had yet to encounter any of the men from that horrible day in the forest; she did not think such luck would extend to a visit to the training grounds of Emyn Arnen. Panicked, she looked to Faramir. He would invent a reason to retire, surely. He had just as much at stake as she did.
Yet the Steward did not rise to the occasion. He merely stood there and watched her, waiting for a response like everyone else. To top it off, now Cobryn was frowning.
"O-Of course," Gúthwyn said shakily. There was nothing she could do. "I would love to."
Éowyn smiled, and stepped onto the trail that Gúthwyn had noticed. One by one, the others followed her. Haiweth was first, then Hammel, then Cobryn. Yet Faramir lingered, a sorry fact Éomund's youngest daughter did not realize until it was too late. It was clear from his expression that he wanted to talk to her.
Reluctantly, Gúthwyn slowed her pace so that soon the figures ahead were obscured by the trees and practically out of sight. Had she not had her own motives for speaking to Borogor's killer, she would have hurried to catch up with them. "What am I going to do if any of your Rangers recognize me?" she hissed, furious at Faramir for placing her in this bind. "Do you not think they will be the slightest bit curious as to why I am here—as your wife's kin, no less?"
Faramir held up a hand to silence her, else she would have continued ranting at him. "They already know," he informed her somberly. "I have warned them. There was no other choice."
Gúthwyn stopped short. "What do you mean, 'they already know'?" she demanded. "They know and now wonder how a woman with my ties to the House of Eorl came to be a slave for the Dark Lord? Or have you told them that sordid tale, as well?"
"They know only what I know: that Éowyn's sister is the same woman whose life I spared in the forests of Ithilien," was Faramir's quiet reply.
Gúthwyn snorted. "As if they did not question the bizarre coincidence," she retorted skeptically. "As if you did not provide them with a satisfactory explanation when one was requested!"
"I did not," Faramir said calmly, ignoring the disbelieving noise she made, "nor could I have. As a matter of fact, I have no idea how you were brought into slavery. I was just as shocked to see you in Minas Tirith as you were to see me—perhaps even moreso, because I alone of us have been unable to fill in the gaps of the other's life between our meetings. I heard, of course, that you traveled with my brother and the rest of the Fellowship; yet how did you get to Rivendell, when just a few months prior I had witnessed you running back to Mordor? It was deemed impossible to escape the Black Land, where the Eye was always watching. Did you succeed where no one else before you had, or did the Dark Lord himself release you?"
Gúthwyn unconsciously shuddered: his last guess was uncomfortably close. "I highly doubt that Éowyn told you nothing," she responded scathingly, ignoring his questions.
"Your sister does more to protect you than you are aware of," Faramir said. "She has not uttered a single word about your time in Mordor, though she suspects that I have detected something different about you. For my part, I have abstained from mentioning the issue—I can hardly tell her that I met you long before I was in the Houses of Healing with her. I have kept my word to you. Éowyn knows naught about Borogor."
"How noble of you," Gúthwyn sneered, the use of Borogor's name fueling a rage within her that had long lain dormant. It overcame the momentary rush of gratitude she had experienced towards Éowyn, who had not told her own husband about her sister's past. "Doubtless you are more concerned about the comforts of your marriage, and how Éowyn would feel if she discovered what you had done, than my wish for the matter to remain secret."
"I will not deny that I have often envisioned Éowyn's reaction, were I to tell her," Faramir answered, sighing. "I admit that my initial promise to you has been strengthened by fear of what she might say, should she learn that I have caused you pain unimaginable."
Gúthwyn swallowed, deflated. She had wanted him to deny the accusation so that she could spit his words back in his face. She had wanted an excuse to yell at him, to lash out, to mock. Now, she had nothing. "That is why we are not telling her," she muttered weakly.
Faramir opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes focused on something over Gúthwyn's shoulder and he was quiet. Éomund's youngest daughter turned to see Cobryn standing there, his eyebrows raised.
"Cobryn," she said in surprise, realizing too late how long she and Faramir had tarried. "Forgive us, we were… ah—"
"Examining the flowers?" Cobryn offered both helpfully and sardonically, pointing at the white blossoms that neither Gúthwyn nor Faramir had paid the remotest attention to.
"Yes," Gúthwyn confirmed resolutely. "The flowers."
Without another word she abandoned Borogor's killer, assuming her place at Cobryn's side. "Let us go," she said tightly. "I am sure Éowyn is wondering where we have gotten to."
"I take it you were not discussing the foliage," Cobryn muttered as they continued down the trail, lowering his voice so as to avoid being overheard by Faramir.
"It was nothing important," Gúthwyn insisted.
"It is remarkable how bad you are at lying," Cobryn replied lightly. "Quite amusing, really."
Gúthwyn shot him a look. "Fine," she growled. "Faramir has alerted the Rangers who were with him when we first met as to who I am, so that they will not ask questions in front of Éowyn. Happy?"
"I had been wondering how the two of you were going to cross that particular bridge," Cobryn said, choosing to ignore her less-than-kind tone. "Ah—here we are."
Gúthwyn grudgingly glanced up. Directly in front of her, the forest opened up to what seemed like another section of the vale in which the inhabitants of Emyn Arnen had made their residence. A wide space had been cleared for the Rangers to train; several of the men were there now, the air around them filled with shouts and clashing metal as they sparred each other. Gúthwyn knew that there would never be a time when all of the Rangers were there at once: some would have paperwork duties that needed to be attended to, others would have jobs requiring travel to different Gondorian provinces, and yet more had families they wanted to spend time with. Despite the certain absence of many, however, there were more soldiers now than she could count.
Éowyn and the children were waiting for her, equal looks of puzzlement on their faces. The White Lady had evidently decided not to inquire, fortunately, for all she said was, "I expect you will be here often, sister. Once the men have gotten over the shock of being defeated by a woman half their size and ten years younger, they will be most cordial to you."
"I hope so," Gúthwyn responded faintly, knowing that she had a couple of strikes against her already. For one, several of the Rangers had attacked her in an ambush almost a decade ago, and would remember that she had felled some of their friends; for another, a different group of warriors would recall how she had apparently lost all sense of reason during a duel with Faramir the last time they visited Edoras. She had barely restrained herself from slitting his throat, and it had shown in her expression.
To keep herself from scrutinizing the Rangers in search of familiar faces, she turned to her right where the clearing stretched on. Then she realized that the training grounds gave way to an archery range, where Legolas and his friends were currently drawing many an astonished stare from onlookers. Gúthwyn found that she, too, was watching as Legolas nocked an arrow and aimed. A sudden blush reddened her cheeks when she thought of how the last time she had seen him, he had been clad in naught but a towel.
Twang. The sound Legolas's bow made as it released the arrow startled her, and she jumped a little. The pinprick of ink marking the center of the target disappeared: the Elf's aim had been true. Gúthwyn swallowed as Legolas turned to say something to a friend, for suddenly the image of him practically naked was almost impossible to erase. She suspected she would never forget how mortifying the encounter had been, and she flushed even more as she gazed at him. His golden hair caught the light and shone, prompting her stomach to clench—yet she did not feel sick, surprisingly and mercifully.
Somewhere nearby Éowyn was going on about how often and long the Rangers trained, Hammel and Haiweth were curiously surveying the scene, Cobryn was staring at the warriors with an almost wistful expression on his face, and Faramir was already in conversation with some of the men. Gúthwyn made these observations and yet did not, for they were very dim and did not in any way capture her attention as much as the Elf before her had.
It struck her then that she had never seen Haldor give a smile that was not cruel, except for during that foolish month when she had been blinded by her infatuation with him. Legolas, however, was grinning and laughing with his companions. He was not trying to ensnare her in a trap; indeed, he seemed completely unaware of her presence. She felt doubt creep up on her. Was she wrong to always keep Legolas at arm's length, to cringe from him if he came too close? Was she blind again, but this time by hate and not love?
"Sister, what do you think?"
Gúthwyn started and looked at Éowyn, realizing that her opinion was wanted. "It is wonderful," she replied quickly, smiling. For the most part, she spoke the truth: despite the presence of the Rangers and the Elves, there was nothing at fault with the training grounds themselves.
Éowyn beamed. "I knew you would be happy," she said. "Ah, here comes Legolas!"
Sure enough, when Éomund's youngest daughter glanced over she saw that Legolas, Trelan, and Faelon had abandoned their targets and were setting out towards the visitors. Haiweth hastily mumbled something about wanting to watch the Rangers practice and backed away, almost bumping into one of the men in her hurry.
"How have the three of you fared today?" Éowyn cheerfully questioned the Elves.
"Abysmally," Faelon groused, staring ruefully at the bow he still carried.
"Speak for yourself," Trelan retorted, giving him a mock glare.
Legolas rolled his eyes at the two of them, and then addressed Gúthwyn. "How is your shoulder?"
Unconsciously, Gúthwyn's hand darted up to rest on her bandages. "It is doing better, thank you," she replied. "I expect it will make a full recovery."
"It might leave a scar," Trelan told her. "Faelon once shot me—"
"It was an accident!" Faelon protested, looking mortified.
"—and the mark still has yet to disappear, though it has been a thousand years since the incident," Trelan finished, purposefully raising his voice so that it drowned out Faelon's.
Éowyn was chuckling, though not unkindly. "Unfortunately, us mortals do not have as much time on our hands to heal. Mayhap Gúthwyn will not fare so poorly as you, Trelan."
"At least she did not get hit in the backside," Trelan grumbled.
Although Gúthwyn flushed, everyone else burst out into laughter. Even Faelon was seen cracking a smile.
Legolas tried to steer the conversation onto a more appropriate subject. "Did you sleep well?" he asked Éomund's youngest daughter.
"I did," Gúthwyn replied earnestly, knowing that Legolas remembered perfectly well how often nightmares had once plagued her rest. Now they were rare occasions, fleeting brushes with danger that had her bolting awake in terror before she was able to slip back into a dreamless state. "Sister, you do spoil me," she declared, turning to Éowyn. "Never have I lain on a mattress so soft!"
Éowyn waved her hand dismissively. "What we have cannot possibly compare to what Legolas has pampered Faramir and I with in the past. One veers dangerously close to lying in bed all day!"
"Our friend does like to show off," Trelan remarked with a smirk.
Legolas shoved him.
"You… you have stayed at the colony?" Gúthwyn questioned her older sister, confused. "I thought you only had dinner there once in awhile."
Éowyn shook her head. "Legolas has been most kind to let us spend the night on several occasions. It is, of course, possible to ride back after the meal, but in the dark and on a full stomach the journey is not at all comfortable."
"When Gúthwyn, Cobryn, and the children have settled in," Legolas said, speaking to Éowyn yet smiling at Gúthwyn, "I hope you will do me the honor of allowing me to host you for more than one evening."
"That sounds wonderful," Éowyn responded before Gúthwyn even had the chance to process the fact that such a visit would require daily interaction with Elves. "If Faramir's schedule permits… indeed, though it may not!" She glanced at her husband, who was deep in discussion with some of the Rangers and had drifted away from the group. "Sister, the two of us could make the trip together if Faramir is unable to. Legolas will do an admirable job of entertaining us, as he always does."
Gúthwyn wondered if Éowyn would be half as eager to accept Legolas's invitation if she knew that the prince of Eryn Lasgalen could have been Haldor's twin. The thought of mentioning this tidbit to her sister was sorely tempting, but she did not wish to make things uncomfortable when the White Lady was trying so hard to arrange activities that might interest her.
"I would not want to impose," Gúthwyn answered carefully, removing every hint of reticence from her expression.
"I have intruded upon your home far too often for you not to return the favor," Legolas assured her. "Yet even if I had not sojourned in Rohan for a countless number of weeks, I would never consider your presence a burden."
The sincerity with which he spoke caused Gúthwyn's cheeks to turn pink. "If you truly do not mind, then the pleasure would be mine," she said, surprising herself with her boldness.
"You have only to name the date," Legolas declared, grinning.
"Do let me be the one to break the news to Raniean," Trelan begged, a wicked light in his eyes. "I know he will be thrilled…"
Gúthwyn's gaze instinctively turned towards the haughty Elf. When she saw him shooting at his target with a particularly ferocious zeal, her insides curled in dislike. Elfwine had once stopped Raniean in the street and attempted to befriend him, but the Elf had reacted cruelly and the poor toddler had started crying. What disturbed Gúthwyn was how little remorse Raniean had seemed to feel for terrorizing a child; as far as she was aware, he had never apologized for the incident.
"Sister, we should head back," Éowyn said then, prompting Éomund's youngest daughter to look away from Raniean and raise her eyebrows quizzically. "I believe your escorts intend to leave soon."
Her words made the breath catch in Gúthwyn's throat. "Leave?" she repeated, stunned. "But they have only been here one night!" When Elfhelm, Gamling and the others departed, she would truly be sundered from Rohan and its people. Something tightened in her chest.
"They wish to return quickly," Éowyn explained, "for many of them have duties to Éomer—not to mention families to care for."
Gúthwyn swallowed, feelings of misery creeping up on her. "Then let us go," she agreed unhappily. "I-I should like to say farewell."
Taking their leave of Legolas, Trelan, and Faelon, Gúthwyn and her companions began the walk back. While they filed down the path, Faramir and Cobryn fell into a discussion about the Gondorian system of rule.
"You know much about our government," Faramir said in amazement, after Cobryn made several judicious comments concerning Gondorian affairs. "Yet until recently, you resided in Rohan!"
"I read, my lord," Cobryn replied with a smile. "I used to dwell in Minas Tirith, and though I no longer have a home there I remain interested in Gondorian society. Before relocating to Edoras, I was fortunate enough to secure some books on the matter—and, time permitting, I attended all of the public assemblies during King Elessar's first few months of rule."
"I remember that," Faramir responded, surveying Cobryn with respect. "I saw you there on many occasions."
Cobryn appeared immensely surprised—and gratified—to learn that the Steward of Gondor had recognized him in a crowd. Unseen by both men, Gúthwyn bristled. It was obvious that Cobryn held Faramir in high esteem; unlike her, he had no trouble interacting with Borogor's murderer. She wished she was able to resent him for it, but she enjoyed Cobryn's company too much and could not bring herself to acknowledge such bitterness.
Soon, they reached Éowyn and Faramir's residence. There, Gúthwyn's eyes were greeted with the painful sight of the Rohirric warriors preparing their horses for the road to Edoras. The men were efficient workers, and it would not be long before they were ready to set out from Emyn Arnen. Gúthwyn was to be left alone in Ithilien, isolated from her people and more homesick than ever.
Although her friends were almost done with their packing, Gúthwyn marched over to Elfhelm and asked, "Must you go now? You have only spent a night here!"
The Marshal's expression suggested that he knew all too well why the king's sister was so concerned about his departure, and there was pity in his gaze as he answered, "Mountains of paperwork await me at home, and I must visit Aldburg to assess operations in the East-mark. My presence is needed there as soon as possible."
Gúthwyn's shoulders slumped, realizing that she could not hope to persuade Elfhelm otherwise. "Will you tell my brother that I greatly miss him and Elfwine?" she asked in a small voice.
"Of course," Elfhelm promised. "Take care of yourself," he then bade her, suddenly stern. "Allow your shoulder to heal properly before you start using the training grounds."
Having already made plans to practice the next day, Gúthwyn was silent. The guilt must have shown on her face, for Elfhelm sighed in exasperation. "I mean it," he insisted. "You are doing yourself no favors by overexerting your body."
"Yes, my lord," Gúthwyn conceded, sardonically dutiful.
Rolling his eyes, Elfhelm replied, "I know you will not listen to me, so I have requested that your new healer keep an eye on you—and appeal directly to Éowyn, in the likely event that you prove too headstrong to follow reason."
"Elfhelm!" Gúthwyn exclaimed indignantly. "My shoulder is fine!"
"And I am a Hobbit," Elfhelm responded sarcastically.
Gúthwyn glared at him, and he stared evenly back at her; finally she gave up and flung her arms around him, surprising the Marshal with a tight embrace. "Thank you for putting up with me," she said, blinking away newly forming tears. "I am sorry I was so difficult with you."
"Éomer warned me in advance," Elfhelm assured her, patting her on the shoulder. As they pulled apart, he added, "I hope you find Ithilien to your liking. Try not to break too many of the Rangers' bones."
Gúthwyn managed a smile through her sadness. "Farewell, my friend," she whispered, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak.
The rest of her goodbyes were no easier. Parting with Gamling was as awkward as it was poignant, especially when she thanked him for keeping the truth behind the rumors of her impurity a secret. Hunwald actually grew misty-eyed when she swore to write to Merry and have the Hobbit recount his adventures with Treebeard and the Ents to the warrior; the sight made Gúthwyn hard-pressed to keep from sobbing right then and there.
Yet eventually she had spoken to all of the soldiers, and before she knew it she was standing next to Éowyn on the stairs and watching as her friends mounted their steeds. After several last thank-yous to Éowyn and Faramir, and cries of "Farewell, my lady!" to Gúthwyn, the men turned their horses around and rode away. A moment later they had disappeared into the forest, and Éomund's youngest daughter felt more lost and abandoned than ever.
"Come, sister, let us go inside," Éowyn suggested softly. Cobryn, Hammel, and Haiweth had already entered the dwelling; only Faramir was left, and he was pointedly looking away so as not to embarrass his wife's sister.
With a sigh, Gúthwyn allowed herself to be steered into her new home. As she crossed the threshold, a few tears slid down her cheeks and fell onto the floor. They glistened on the ground, mournful little testaments to her misery.
"You will like it here, baby sister, I promise," Éowyn murmured, noticing. It was a mark of her kindness that there was no hint of resentment in her voice.
Gúthwyn could not bring herself to say anything.
A/N: *sheepish* So, I've been majorly slacking on replying to some reviews for the last chapter - midterms and various papers are to blame for that, plus my starting another writing project. (Which, don't worry, knows its place and won't interfere with this one!) With that in mind, I'd like to respond to a few people who had questions/comments that I'd like to address. I'm so absent-minded that I might have already answered one or two of these, so bear with me. =)
Doll-Fin-Chick: I like the new name! Dolphins = awesome. In regards to POVs: I've actually never done a Hammel or Haiweth POV, nor am I planning on doing one this epilogue. This is mainly because I like to keep their thoughts as mysterious to the readers as they are to Gúthwyn. =P That said, I started writing a Haiweth POV that I'm going to put in the alternate epilogue, so keep your eye open for that (as well as Hammel's!). As for other characters, my decisions to include their POVs are usually spur-of-the-moment, so I never quite know when they're going to come up! However, I do anticipate writing POVs for Éowyn, Éomer, Lothíriel, and Legolas in the near future - possibly Elfwine, too, because who can resist a cutie like him. =P Oh, and yes, Legolas is quite a catch! ;)
kycatsfan: There will be an incredibly violent (in more ways than one) confrontation between Gúthwyn and Hammel in the future in which each will be shocked by the other's perspective... Unfortunately, that won't be for awhile. Haiweth, for the most part, will be safe from the resentment that's consuming her brother.
Andi-Scribbles: You're going to be very happy three chapters from now... =)
R. Equillith: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! I'm starting to return to the issues between Gúthwyn and the children, because both parties have some serious hang-ups that need to be addressed. =P
Liza: To be honest, whenever I go back and reread those first chapters of Alone, I don't know how anyone else gets through them. Major kudos to you! I always feel like I should go back and edit them, but the story's been going for almost seven years now and I get a kick out of seeing how much my writing's improved. I'm glad you stuck with it! In that far-off day in the future in which I finish these epilogues (which I'm beginning to think exists solely in my imagination =P), I do have some other writing projects lined up - but as of now, none of them are in the LOTR fandom. I'm going to need a major breather after The Rohan Pride Trilogy. XD
To every reader/reviewer: Thank you all so much for continuing to read and review with your amazing comments and incredibly generous praise. Seriously. I don't know how you guys are still with me, but I'm so glad you are. As corny as it sounds, every review I get - no matter how long or short - brightens my day so much. If there were a way to give all of you a million cookies of your choice, I totally would in a cocaine heartbeat. =D