Houses of healing, Minas Tirith
Sitting down in front of the desk, Faramir looks out of the window. The sun shines in his eyes blinding him. He is forced to squeeze them shut. The heath hitting his face is a welcome delight despite the cold wind accompanying it. The heath warms his face up steadily. He knows how much work is still before him before he can take time to relax. Among the work is the need to make plans for the time until the host returns. It will be the only way to ensure everything gets done and nothing is forgotten. He does not want to disappoint father.
Sighing, he turns his eyes back to the desk. Dark wood greets his eyes. Papers lie in a neat stack on the left side. A bottle of ink stands in the right corner behind a feather. Taking a sheet into his hands, his fingers scrub over it allowing him to feel all the paper's imperfections. Putting it down in front of him, he scrubs his hand over it to even it out.
"Where to start?"
Silence follows. No one answers his question. He smiles wryly. Did he honestly expect an answer? He is alone in the room so who could answer. However, it is obvious what he should be focusing on; the preparations which have to be started within the next two days. But which are they exactly; the preparations for the feast or the repairs to the city's defenses.
Faramir bites his lips. There are a lot of preparations to make for the feast. The servants will be unable to finish them if they do not start anytime soon. In fact, he should start them right now. Just as this thought crosses his mind another works its way to the front. The preparations for the feast will have no purpose if there is no way to defend the city. He groans. Both of them need to be started by tomorrow. No matter what, they cannot be started anytime later. So how to solve this?
It is not easy. He is not sure if he should start them at the same time. However, he suspects it might be the best way to solve the problem. Thinking about it, he grimaces. If he does this, master Neston will most likely haunt him in a few days. All with the claim he is overdoing it even if he is only giving orders. Is there a middle way? His eyes widen. Some aspects of the feast and the defense have to be started right away but not everything. If he plans it accordingly, some things can be started later.
Pulling the lid of the ink pot, he puts it down before picking up the feather. It glides smoothly through his fingers even though he can feel small feathers alongside it. Dipping the feather in the ink, he makes a line in the middle of the paper. At the top of the paper on the right side of the line, he writes 'defense' and on the left side 'feast'. Beneath each, he makes a list of tasks to be executed with an open space in front of it. Once he has listed everything, he gives each action a number based on how soon he feels they should be started. A few times, he has to go back because he finds something more important than the earlier task. Thirty minutes later, he puts the feather down stretching his arms and back. His arms pop with the stretch. Once done, he looks at the list.
"Finally. Now all that is left to do is make the plan to be delivered to lord Húrin."
Again no one responds to his words. He smiles wryly out of the window. Father would not have been pleased where he to be caught talking to himself. It has always been deemed as something frivolous. But then father is not here to berate him. Best make use of the opportunity he has while it lasts. Shaking his head, he focuses back on the list before him.
For the next thirty minutes, Faramir spends his time perfecting the plan. Once he is done, he looks over his plan. A few questions come to his mind when he just reads it. Questions, Lord Húrin will surely ask himself. A door opening forces his head up. His head turns towards the door. His secretary, Tegeldir, walks calmly into the room while balancing a stack of papers in his arms. Noticing his eyes on him, Tegeldir bows with the stack in his hands. He winces when the stack nearly topples.
"Good morning, my lord. Did you have a good night's sleep?"
"As well as can be expected. Ever since the host left, I have worried about this plan of theirs to attack Morannen."
"Mhh. Well, that is not a concern only you have if the rumors are right. But truthfully, I cannot aid you with that."
"Alright, what is the stack you are holding?"
"Oh, nothing important. Just some scrolls detailing past coronations. Lord Húrin was pretty insistent I bring them to you."
"And why would he think I needed those scrolls?"
Well, if he is being honest, he has a few ideas as to why. And as they are only ideas, he wants to make sure he is not making imagining things. Lord Húrin could have another reason for having them delivered. Even if he cannot figure out those reasons. He looks Tegeldir carefully over. Tegeldir fidgets with his feet for a moment while still balancing the stack before moving forward. Tegeldir puts the stack on the desk. Raising an eyebrow, Tegeldir smiles nervously and looks away.
"I do not know for certain. Lord Húrin did not explain his reasons to me. Is there anything I can do for you, my lord?"
"Yes, could you inform me when lord Húrin wants to meet with me?"
"Not for a few days yet, I am afraid. Lord Húrin did mention wanting to meet with you and the remaining captains at the same time. He did express a request for you to give him instructions to carry out before then."
"Ah, yes the preparations and repairs. I did already make a plan for those. If you could take it to lord Húrin? I am afraid I am confined to the houses for the remainder of this week."
"I will do so, my lord. Is there anything else?"
"No, not at this time."
He hands his plan over to Tegeldir who bows before walking towards the door without saying another word. Following him with his eyes, he sees the tension in Tegeldir's shoulders. He frowns. What is going on? Tegeldir didn't say anything was wrong. So, he must be unaware of his tension or be outright ignoring it. Well whatever it is, he'll be looking into it. Reaching the door, Tegeldir turns around meeting his eyes. Tegeldir smiles uncomfortably for a moment before bowing and leaving the room.
Turning his head around he looks out of the window, his eyes turning towards the garden. Has the host encountered any problems yet or has their journey been uneventful? He hopes it has been uneventful even though his experience tells him otherwise. Mordor has had a strong grip on Ithilien in the past. They will refuse to give any leeway to protect Morannen. Any groups traveling through Ithilien will be met with attacks and ambushes.
Sighing, he stands up walking towards the bed. It is best if he rests for a while. Master Neston will appreciate this and hopefully, it will allow him to leave the houses earlier than the time they agreed on. Besides, his worries will not decrease if he stays awake for much longer, he will only stress himself needlessly.
Looking out of the window, Faramir watches the men working on the field. The men are dragging carcasses across the field and burning them in large piles. Glittering catcheshis eyes forcing him to close them for a moment. So, the men are collecting the weapons. Now, the matter remaining is figuring out if they are turned over to the officers. A knock on the door resounds through his room.
"Enter!"
The door screeches open as he turns around. Inside the doorway, lord Húrin stands there resting his hand on the door. He smiles mentioning for Lord Húrin to come inside. It makes no sense to him for Lord Húrin to be so hesitant. Walking back towards his bed, he sits down. Lord Húrin walks quietly towards the desk. He turns the chair around before sitting down. Lord Húrin looks him over for a moment before speaking up.
"Lord Faramir, I received the plan you made from Tegeldir. It is decent but in need of a few changes."
"Is that so? Why have you not made those changes already when you found them?"
"As it is your plan, I prefer not to make changes without taking your opinion in mind."
Faramir shakes his head. He has no idea what lord Húrin is trying to accomplish. Carefully hidden flattery does not suit him. Not that flattery suits him in general. Lord Húrin never does something like this. So why now? Despite his confusion, he has to smile wryly. Lord Húrin smiles back at him.
"Well, in that case, let us talk about those changes you had in mind."
"Of course, my lord. If you look at these two points then you can see they should be switched."
Lord Húrin holds the list in front of him while pointing at two actions. He looks them over before looking back to Lord Húrin with a tilted eyebrow. Lord Húrin immediately falls into an explanation. And so for the next thirty minutes, they discuss all things lord Húrin wants to change. He makes sure he understands the reasons behind the requests. Of those reasons, only one he dismisses due to it too insignificant to justify the change. In the end, his plan has been changed in a way they are both pleased with the changes. Before leaving, Lord Húrin promises to ensure his plan is executed as planned.
Closing his eyes, he leans back until his head rests against the wall. Heat builts on the left side of his face, warming it up. It is a stark contrast to the cold, he feels on the right side of his face. Despite this, his mind keeps flowing back to his father and the work left before him. He clenches his fist. His arms tremble from the strain. Forcing his arms to be still, he hisses at the sting coming from his shoulder.
Opening his eyes moments later, he stands up, stretches as much as he can, and walks out of the room. Following the hallway, he makes his way towards the garden. Maybe a quiet walk in the garden will stem the storm brewing in his mind. Brewing with the changes lord Húrin insisted on and he, at times, reluctantly agreed on. People walk past him and their voices reach his ears. The words are not understandable. Something, he does not react to. Their faces are obscured by the light of the sun.
Reaching the garden, he takes a deep breath smelling the fresh scent of grass and herbs. He feels goosebumps appearing over his body when the wind strikes him. Smiling, he steps into the garden while his mind wanders back to the discussion. Back to Lord Húrin's words. He can hear the words as clearly as if they are being spoken right now. Most of Lord Húrin's reasons were understandable. Nevertheless, he thought it best to stick to the plan he had made. He wanted to ensure he would have enough spare time in case something went wrong. A worry lord Húrin did clearly not share.
Walking through the garden, he makes his way towards the parapet. Looking up, he is greeted by a dark sky. Stepping up onto the parapet, he looks over the Pelennor fields. This time, he can see things more clearly than when he was in his room. A few pyres are built in the distance. They look like small triangles except for the flickering of a fire. Men are scouring the fields looking tiny. He recognizes them from the bright coloring of their armor. Glittering reaches his eyes from time to time. He smiles amused. So the plundering has started. Everything the enemy has left behind and is still useful will be gathered by them. A scraping throat sounds behind him pulling him from his musing.
Turning around, he tilts his head with a frown. Master Neston stands next to a beautiful woman. The woman has waving blond hair and is dressed in a pure white dress. Her right arm is held in a sling. Fluttering grows stronger in his stomach over time. He does not know where this came from. It is so loud he nearly blushes and wants to cross his arms over his stomach. Moving his left arm behind his back, he clenches his fist hoping this will still the feelings.
"Master Neston, my lady, I assume you are here for me. How can I be of assistance?"
"My lord, I would like to kindly request to be given another room. I feel my current room to be stifling."
He looks the lady in her eyes. So far, she has not given him a name. Something, he would have expected to receive. But no matter, he will have to determine what to do with her request. And where best to start than questioning master Neston.
"And what have you done about it, master Neston?"
"I have not done anything, my lord. I find the request peculiar and believe the decision should be made by you. For now, princess Éowyn resides among her people here in the west wing."
"Ah, of course. My lady, would you care for a walk? We can discuss your request in-depth then."
"I would appreciate that."
He holds out his arm for her to take. A hesitant smile graces her face. The fluttering in his stomach had lessened only to now increase once more. Heat crawls over his face. He hopes no one has noticed. Princess Éowyn steps up to the parapet and places his arm in his elbow. Any indication she saw anything is absent from her face. Placing his hand over hers, he walks along the parapet.
"May I ask you something, my lady?"
"Of course, my lord. What would you like to know?"
He looks at her while princess Éowyn's eyes focus on Mordor. He frowns. Is that the reason for her request? Dread fills him by only thinking about it. Shaking his head, he decides to clear another matter up first. He cannot believe the Rohirrim would have allowed a woman to fight alongside the army. She has fought alongside the army, he is certain of it. Her arm makes it clear enough.
"How did you receive your injury?"
"It was during my fight with one of the Nazgul."
"Really? I have never heard of anyone surviving a direct battle with the Nazgul. You must be truly lucky. Could you perhaps tell me how you came to travel with the army? Did king Theoden approve of it?"
"Oh no, my uncle did not approve of it. In fact, he had ordered me to return to Edoras to rule in his stead. It was not something I agreed with as I did not want to be left without knowing how my family would be fairing during this desperate time. As a result, I hid my identity and traveled along with the army without his knowledge."
"That was very brave of you to do."
"Do not mock me, my lord."
"I did not mock you, my lady. It was very brave of you to go against your family's wishes."
"Mhh, if you say so."
"You do not believe me?"
"No, I do not. Could we please turn back to the matter we have to discuss?"
Princess Éowyn stares at his eyes while she lifts her chin. He bites his lips to keep from smiling. He is certain she would have crossed her arms had she been able to do so. Shaking his head, he smiles reassuringly at her.
"As you wish, my lady. Could you tell me what the real reason is for your request to change your room? I assume given your status you were given a private room, am I right?"
"Yes, I was indeed. Unfortunately, I find my view quite unsatisfying."
"Oh, is that so. What view do you currently have? And what kind of view would you like to have in your new room?"
"Oh, my view mostly contains farmland and mountains. I have seen enough of those at home and would like a change in scenery. If it would be possible I would like my view to be directed towards Mordor. I find I worry a lot about my brother."
"Understandable. I find myself worried about my father too. I can understand your wish to look towards Mordor in that regard. However, doing so will do nothing good for your own mind. At the same time, I have to admit it will allow you to get an idea of what is going on. And if worst comes to worst, you will know about it quickly."
"Indeed. My thoughts exactly."
Faramir smiles. It is good to know they share the same feelings. His stomach has settled a bit during their conversation for which he is grateful. Just then an idea comes to his mind; maybe, he can ask her to join him for breakfast tomorrow. He has come to enjoy her company after this short time together. And it will allow both of them to confide in someone about their concerns. Well, for as far as either is comfortable.
"My lady, I assure you I will ensure you get a room with a suitable view. I do however have to tell you that it worries me you wish to look towards Mordor."
"You do not need to worry about it, my lord. It is simply to keep an eye on my brother for as much as I can. But still thank you for granting me my request."
"It was my pleasure, my lady. Would I be able to convince you to join me for breakfast tomorrow?"
"Breakfast, my lord? May I ask for the reason?"
"You may ask. I find myself missing company during breakfast time and would like to gain the pleasure of your company. By sharing our breakfast we can keep each other company."
"I would like that."
"So I will see you for breakfast tomorrow?"
"You will if I know the time and place where we will eat our breakfast."
He takes her hand and kisses the back of her hand. A blush comes over princess Éowyn's face at the same time as her smile brightens. He smiles reassuringly. Princess Éowyn pulls her hand out of his hand and holds it in front of her chest. The smile never leaves her face.
"Thank you, my lord, for your offer. If you would excuse me I would like to rest for a moment."
"Of course. I hope you can find the rest you seek. I would not want you to tire yourself too much."
Princess Èowyn nods and turns around. Again the smile remains on her face. He escorts her out of the garden back into the houses. Once he has done so, he bows and watches her leave. Turning around, he walks back into the garden resuming his walk.
Walking past a flowerbed a short while later, he takes a deep breath. The fresh scent of herbs hits his nose. Tension runs off his back. His shoulders relax, lessening the pain coming from his injured shoulder. He closes his eyes and smiles. A cramp shoots through his legs. His eyes shoot open and he hisses. He kneels massaging his legs for a moment while looking around. In a corner, he finds a bench and smiles. This is just what he needs.
Walking towards the bench, he passes a few healers weeding the flower beds and gathering herbs. No one notices him as he walks past them. Footsteps sound behind him at a steady pace. He turns his head to the side to avoid raising suspicion. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees two guards following him. He frowns. Where did they come from? And how long have they been following him? He has not noticed them at all.
Shaking his head, he keeps walking while at the same time keeping an eye out on those guards. They follow him for a while before turning a corner. He walks on without hearing any sounds of footsteps behind him. He smiles. With them gone from his mind, it turns back towards princess Éowyn. He cannot truly understand her desire to watch the east. It only makes sense in regards to worrying about family. But it can be done from the garden or other places. One does not need a room to be able to do so. So why should she need it? He cannot understand her desire. All it will do is sour one's mood far too quickly for anyone's liking. It will only give birth to many dark thoughts. As such, it is better to have a room with a view of something else.
Another thought crosses his mind as he considers it; will there be people who share her desire? He shakes his head. He cannot imagine anyone who would share it. Everyone would want to look at something more hopeful. Especially after the siege. The future has looked bleak for a long time. Any hope which exists will be tightly clung to. All to not lose hope and give into despair.
While thinking about this, he looks up at the bright sky. It was a surprising revelation to him that princess Éowyn joined the army secretly. He has heard of the shieldmaidens of the north but to ever meet one. He never expected he would. Besides, he doubts princess Éowyn actually is a shieldmaiden. What he felt from her was being someone with a need to prove herself. Whether this is perceived or true, he does not know. But all in all, it was an intriguing conversation.
But her joining the army was not the only thing which intrigued him; her temperament was. She acted like a typical lady to him but at the same time, he felt she was someone with a strong mind and will. She never came off as meek as some of the ladies he has met in court. Princess Éowyn knows what she wants and will fight for it. He smiles calmly at this thought, confident in his assessment.
He grips his stomach when the fluttering returns in all earnest. Alongside the fluttering, stinging appears and grows steadily. He clenches his arms tightly over his stomach and bites his lips. What are these strange sensations? It cannot be love, can it? He shakes his head confident it must be something else. But just as this thought crosses his mind, he realizes he was right in calling it love. Or at least, they are the beginning signs of love he feels. He shakes his head again. It makes no sense. He should not be feeling this just yet. He does not know princess Éowyn well enough for such feelings to surface. It should have taken a lot more time.
All of it is highly confusing. He wonders if he has mistaken his feelings. Or mistaken something else. These thoughts leave only one possibility open; he has to do all he can to get to know princess Éowyn better. Only this way, he will be able to determine if his feelings are true. And the best time to get to know her is during their shared breakfast. Tomorrow, he will begin with this. And hopefully, he can make their shared breakfast a daily event. That way, he can determine the origin of his feelings with the most certainty.
A few days later, Faramir walks towards the healers' training room. A room, he did not know existed and was shown yesterday. In this room, he will meet the captains who remained behind and the few officials present. Together, they need to determine if his plan is progressing sufficiently.
Looking out of a window, he sees the sun has nearly risen to its peak in the sky. His eyes widen slightly. If he does not hurry right now he will be too late for the meeting. Quickening his steps, he hurries towards the room. He passes people but pays them no mind. Not even when they address him. He refuses to be distracted.
Within moments, he arrives in the hallway where the room can be found. In the distance, Lord Húrin and a captain are making their way to the room. His lips quirk up in a short-term smile. So, he will not be the last person to arrive. His smile widens remembering one of father's lessons; the steward is never late. Everyone arrives too early. He shakes his head; he should have known not to hurry. No one would have been truly bothered had he arrived late.
"My lord Faramir, may I introduce you to captain Mendear of the first level. Captain Mendear is the only captain who currently is physically fit to do his duty and present in the city. All other captains are either here in the houses or have accompanied the army."
Only now does he notice he has stopped walking while Lord Húrin and captain Mendear have walked up to him. Captain Mendear looks at him with a shy smile. The captain has long dark hair. The hair is held out of his face by being pulled from his forehead towards the back. He is dressed like the guards but without his armor. Nodding, he smiles back to the captain.
"It is good to meet you captain Mendear."
"It is an honor, my lord."
Captain Mendear bows to him. Faramir smiles amused, aware captain Mendear is being too formal. As such, he focuses on Lord Húrin and tilts his head. Lord Húrin smiles sheepishly and shrugs. He frowns wondering what this is about. It has to do with captain Mendear's actions of that he is certain. Before he can break his mind over it, he decides to focus on something else which is on his mind.
"Lord Húrin, is our meeting just between the three of us?"
"No, my lord. Some of the captains who are nearly ready to return to their duties will be present. Just like the Rohirrim captains who have remained behind to guard the prisoners we took after the siege."
Faramir nods. It is just like he expected. It would have been strange for only three people to be present during this meeting. His plan relies on a lot more people. This assurance is actually the reason for him asking. On another note, captain Mendear looks quite young. He would not want to burden an inexperienced captain with everything if aid would be available.
The door creaks open and he looks up. Lord Húrin and captain Mendear walk into the room. Captain Mendear turns his head back and frowns. He smiles calmly and follows them into the room after a moment of waiting. Inside, nearly all chairs along a rectangular table are occupied by either Gondorians or Rohirrim. Most of the Gondorians are either covered in bandages or have scrapes visible. At his entrance, everyone stands up and bows. He nods to them while mentioning with his hands for everyone to sit down. At the same time, he moves towards his chair.
Reaching his chair, he sits down and looks everyone in their eyes. All the men stare at him. The silence stretches through the room as the wind can be heard blowing through a window. Outside the building, the rustling of trees is clearly auditable. He goes over everyone waiting for someone to speak up. The silence grows to an unbearable level forcing him to break it.
"How far have the repairs progressed so far?"
"They are progressing steadily, my lord. However, there is a lot of work to do and insufficient men available so it goes slowly."
"Thank you, captain Mendear. Do any of you have any idea how the progress can be increased?"
"I have taken all the steps possible to increase the speed. But maybe my fellow captains have some ideas I did not think of."
Captain Mendear moves his eyes over the assembled captains. Faramir follows his direction. Some captains exchange looks while others look contemplating. Whispering breaks out in the room and he leans back into the chair. He deems it better to let the captains discuss whatever they want for a moment. It might give him the best answers. It takes a while before one of the captains speaks up.
"I believe captain Mendear has done all he can. My lieutenant tells me there have been men dragged in from the fields to assist."
"That is true, Lord Faramir. Some of my men have gone to assist in the repairs. Even though I have a dire need for them on the field."
"So, you have assigned some of your men, captain …"
"My name is Erkenbrand, lord Faramir. I am a marshall of Rohan. Éomer cyning has placed me in charge of all Rohirrim who remained behind. We have been unofficially placed in charge of handling the prisoners."
"That is good to know. I am glad someone from Rohan looks after the Rohirrim. You know their needs better than we do."
Marshall Erkenbrand gives him a small smile. A few captains sigh in relief. It is obvious why; they do not want to be in charge of the prisoners. If the Rohirrim want to be, remains to be seen. His eyes fall on lord Húrin while he remains locked in his thoughts. Lord Húrin smiles before speaking up.
"That is true, my lord. Just as with Marshall Erkenbrand and the Rohirrim, the same will count for the northern lord."
"What northern lord, Lord Húrin?"
"Oh, the northern lord who resides here in the houses. He was wounded during the battle. With him are a few injured northern Dúnedain who are unable to travel."
"Mhhh, what do you know about him?"
"Not much, my lord. I know he and the northern chieftain are close. However, what the nature of their relationship is, I do not know. Also, I have been informed he shares a room with the other Dúnedain."
"My lord, if I may?"
"Yes, captain Erkenbrand? What do you know about this northern lord?"
"I believe this northern lord is called Halbarad, am I right?"
Marshall Erkenbrand looks at Lord Húrin. A look is shared between them. He smiles at their interaction, grateful for Marshall Erkenbrand's checking. It would not do to receive information about a lord who is not in the houses. Lord Húrin nods after a moment.
"You are right."
"Lord Halbarad is the cousin of Lord Aragorn, the chieftain of the northern Dúnedain, as well as his steward. Or so I believe because he was called as such a few times in our presence."
"You are saying, Marshall Erkenbrand, that he is a nobleman?"
"It would seem so for as much as one can be a nobleman in the north. However, I cannot be certain. There were no titles used by them in our presence. They always used names or ranks but nothing else."
Faramir turns his eyes to lord Húrin raising an eyebrow. He would like to have lord Húrin's opinion even though he safely assumes lord Halbarad is a nobleman. This knowledge gives him entirely new problems. No nobleman should be residing anywhere but the noble wing. Lord Húrin looks at him with an emotionless face.
"I agree with Marshall Erkenbrand. If he is the cousin of the northern chieftain as well as his steward then I safely assume he is a nobleman. Just like I know you do. Of course, we cannot be completely certain."
"Thank you, lord Húrin. You were right I made the same assumption. Lord Halbarad's care is something I will have to discuss with master Neston. Captain Erkenbrand, is there anything else you know about him?"
"Not much, I know he has a son who went with the host. They have talked about his wife a few times but that is it."
"Did the men ever discuss his duties?"
"My lord, excuse my impertinence but did we not come here to discuss the state of affairs in the city?"
Faramir turns towards captain Mendear and keeps his face impassive. At the same time, he wants to scratch the back of his head. Captain Mendear looks at him with a guilty expression even though he is right. They did meet here to discuss his plan. And now, they have strayed away from that topic. He wants to know more about lord Halbarad but will have to investigate at a later time. And one way to do that is to request captain Erkenbrand to stay behind for a moment after the meeting.
"Yes, we did indeed. Thank you for reminding me, captain. Where were we before we strayed from the topic?"
"We were discussing the progress."
"Ah, yes. The progress. It is going slow but at the same time as quickly as is possible with the means available to you, am I right?"
Captain Mendear nods. He turns his eyes towards lord Húrin who tilts his head. A frown appears on his face. Faramir stares lord Húrin in the eyes struggling to keep his own frown from showing. He hopes this will prompt lord Húrin to explain his confusion. It takes a moment before lord Húrin finally speaks up.
"Well, it is not as if we do not have other options to increase the progress. We can assign the remaining tasks to the men who are present here. Even if some are still confined to the Houses, they can work with their officers to get everything started."
He nods in agreement. During the following hour, lord Húrin and he determine who is best able to handle which task with the captains. It is slow progress in the beginning as some outright disagree with them. In the end, everyone has tasks assigned to them and a time is agreed on for the next meeting.