Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, mores the pity (except Marin).
The King's Braid
Chapter Two
Two weeks passed. The anniversary of the destruction of the Ring was fast approaching. Although the celebrations had more or less been continuous ever since the great event itself, the city of Minas Tirith was preparing to mark the day in style. An air of excitement hung in the air. Everyone from the lowliest errand boy right up to the King was affected by it.
Aragorn smiled as he stood looking out of his study window. He could see a group of children in the sixth level of the city from his vantage-point. The party was the next day, and the children were hanging brightly coloured streamers everywhere they could reach. The whole city was awash with colour, and alive with sounds of laughter and hurrying feet.
Aragorn's reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. He turned away from the window, frowning. He was expecting Boromir back from an inspection of the stables any minute, but the Steward wouldn't knock at the door of his own study. "Come," he said. The door opened, and Marin entered. "You have news?" Aragorn asked, seeing look on his councillor's face.
"I do, My Lord," replied Marin gravely. "It concerns the matter we have spoken of several times in the past few weeks. Your Majesty, the disturbances amongst the population of the city are increasing. There is no open violence as yet, but only last night three fires were set in different areas of the city. One almost killed a family, but they were saved by the city guard. No one has yet claimed responsibility for them, but it is believed that they were caused by the same people who have been speaking out against you."
Aragorn was horrified. "How many of these people are there?" he asked.
"Only a small number, we believe," said Marin. "And we also believe that they are confined to the city. However, we fear that they may have allies outside of Gondor. Several people have left the city over the past few weeks saying that they were taking messages or goods to other parts of the kingdom, but they have not returned. It is feared that they have in fact gone to Harad, and are in league with the Southrons."
Aragorn cursed silently, and then turned to Marin. "Clearly this situation cannot continue," he said. "We are on the eve of the first anniversary of our greatest triumph, and I will not let the celebration be spoiled, nor the people of my city live in fear for their lives."
"Your Majesty must be seen to be combating the problem," said Marin. "These disturbances are not invisible to your people. You must reassure them."
Aragorn thought for a moment. "I will address the city tomorrow, during the festivities," he said. "I will reassure my people, and at the same time let those who speak out against the King know that such treason will not be tolerated. Meanwhile, I shall tell Boromir of this matter. This problem concerns him, and as Steward I would have him investigate discreetly to see what he can find out about these people who oppose me." However, when he looked up at Marin, he perceived that his senior councillor wore an uncomfortable expression.
"There is something more, of which I have not yet said anything, My Lord," said Marin. "It concerns the Lord Boromir. Rumours of threats made against him have also reached me over the past few days. They are not made outright," he added hastily. "But your relationship with the Steward is common knowledge. It would be foolish to make threats directly against the King, and so harming the Lord Boromir is seen as the best way to show you that your opposers are serious. And it is well known that these people also see Boromir as betraying the memory of his father by so strongly supporting you."
"And putting him in charge of an investigation would only increase the animosity towards him," finished Aragorn. He sighed. "You are right, Marin," he said. "Very well. I am putting you in charge of the investigation. You may go, but please keep me informed of any further developments."
Marin bowed and withdrew. Aragorn resumed his position by the window, but the children in the street below no longer cheered him. He knew he should be thinking about how to address the city on the morrow, but his mind was fully occupied with the quandary he now found himself in – whether to tell Boromir of the threats made against him. On the one hand, he had a right to know. However, Aragorn knew that telling him would just accentuate Boromir's already unnecessary feelings of guilt about the whole situation. He would then demand to lead the investigation, wanting to protect Aragorn but putting himself in danger. And Aragorn knew he would never allow that. Boromir meant everything to him.
It was growing dark in the room by the time Aragorn had made his choice. He would have to tell Boromir about the fires and the threat to the people of the city – doubtless the Steward already knew about them anyway – but he would not tell him about the threats against himself. Aragorn could not bear the thought of something happening to him. Guilt at keeping such a secret from Boromir gnawed at his insides, but Aragorn thrust it aside. He had made his decision.