XX

Talk, they had all said. You must talk. An eloquent man struck dumb. Is that what they saw?

How wise they had been, my friends and my family, since for all my gift of speech and for all I had felt the weight of the silence press the life from me, I had not grasped until I spoke how it would release me. And there we stood, she and I, at the gates of the city, where we had both near died, and we made our decision to live again. And yet, as we picked a slow, unsteady way from the gates up through the city, it was enough simply to hold her close to me and to tell her what I had known and thought and felt since first we had walked together in the garden - but had never said enough - that I loved her.

And when we finally reached home, and crossed the threshold together, we were both crying again, but somehow she seemed to be transforming all my sorrow into joy, as she had always done, and I felt most acutely the agony that had been her absence. When at last she fell asleep in my embrace, with her cheek against my chest and her arms around me, I recalled that in the past she had always slept with her back to me, and I thought that I liked this new way better. And when I too finally slid into sleep, I dreamed that I was ten years old, and lying on the sand at Dol Amroth, singing and watching the waves lap against the shore, with the sun warming my back but not burning it. And I knew that I would never fear fire or water or memory again.

I woke not long after dawn and screwed open one eye. The world was very still and sunlight was falling upon my face. I clamped my eye shut again and two questions strayed across my drowsy mind - why I had not drawn the curtains before going to bed, and when it was that my son had become so heavy. A murmur beside me brought me to my senses. I had not drawn the curtains because this was not my house in Ithilien, but an undecorated room in my home in Minas Tirith. And the head that lay upon my chest was not my son's, but my wife's.

It was all I could do not to laugh out loud, my happiness was so great. But she was still sleeping deeply, and I did not want to wake her. So I lay and watched the sunlight move across the unpainted walls, and then looked out upon the trees in my garden, a breeze picking through the leaves. I felt her shiver slightly beside me and, stretching out very carefully, I reached for the sheet and drew it about us. And there we lay, she fast asleep, and I watched the sunlight fall on her golden hair and the pale skin of her shoulders, and I judged myself the luckiest man alive, and the most contented. And I hoped that she would stay with me, and I fell to thinking about what our life together might be like if she did.

I had no intention of taking her for granted; not again, and not when we had made such a glorious and unanticipated peace. Her presence beside me now I could not take as a promise that she would remain there forever. What I had written to her in that letter that languished in a drawer in another house - my desire for our family to be reunited, and to live together in Gondor as we had done once - all that remained the same. But now I wanted above all for her to be my wife again, completely; and I perceived that now that this could not simply mean a return to how we had once been. I had some thoughts on how we might be if we were to be together once more - but there was, I thought to myself, only one way to find out if these were acceptable to her. I would have to ask her.

Not that the opportunity presented itself immediately. She slept on through the morning and I dozed beneath her, glad to be near her, overjoyed that she was there again, but anxious that she might decide to depart once more. The day became hotter, but the sun disappeared. It was approaching noon and the sky was heavy and threatening when at last I felt her stretch beside me, her skin brushing exquisitely against mine. Then she raised her head, opened sleep-heavy eyes, and smiled up at me.

'Good morning,' I said softly.

'Good morning,' she replied. 'Have you been waiting for me to wake?'

'An old habit of mine. One I am not unwilling to acquire again.'

She dropped her head and kissed my side very gently, and I sighed at her touch. Then I slid down the bed until we lay face to face, very close, smiling at each other. A long strand of hair had fallen across her face, and I twisted it about my finger, like a golden ring.

'I have not yet been entirely honest with you,' she said at length.

I raised my eyes to the ceiling. 'How much more can we possibly have concealed from each other?' I asked.

'This is not, I hope, too devastating a piece of news,' she said. 'Simply that I did not come all the way from Edoras just to see the children. I wanted to see you too.'

I unravelled the hair from my finger. 'When you arrived,' I admitted, 'I had just finished writing a letter explaining to you the many virtues that would arise from our family being reunited.' I avoided, for the moment, the matter of her possible return to Gondor. It seemed a little soon yet.

The corners of her mouth turned up and her shoulders began to shake. 'And where is this letter now?' she laughed.

'At the back of a drawer in my desk in Emyn Arnen.'

'I am astonished we have progressed as far as we have,' she said, running her fingers along my jaw and drawing me in to kiss her.

'And I am awestruck,' I murmured, just before speaking became very difficult.

'You have barely changed,' I said a little later, rather indistinctly, I should imagine, since my head was below the sheet as I carried out my explorations. 'You are still so beautiful.'

'You have not changed at all,' she said, which I thought was rather chivalrous of her, since I knew that my face was more lined and my hair more grey. I pushed away the sheet and turned onto my back, and she began her own exploration, running the fingers of one hand up and down my left side. After a moment, her touch seemed to linger, and I looked up to see what she was doing - tracing the line of the scar left there by a spear. And then she put her hand upon the other bad scar, the one upon my left shoulder, and then she kissed it, and beneath her touch, it no longer seemed the most important thing about me.

'You understand,' I said softly, and she raised her head to look at me, 'that I shall never fight again?'

She nodded, and took my right hand, stroking the rough skin. 'I know.'

'And that leaves me in either Ithilien or Minas Tirith,' I continued, clasping her hand.

She nodded again, looking back at me most seriously.

'There is going to be war again very soon, Éowyn,' I told her. 'South of Rhûn. Which puts north Ithilien in a rather precarious position. Now,' I said, twisting onto my stomach and smiling at her dryly, 'As you can imagine, this is a matter of some concern to me.'

She raised an eyebrow to acknowledge that she could appreciate my anxiety.

'And I believe my worries would be greatly reduced, if I could go and take a look at the northern borders.'

She drew in a sharp breath. 'Is that wise?' she murmured.

'Oh, do not give up on me so quickly, Éowyn! Not you!' I said, and I kept my tone light, but the note of pleading was plain, and I grasped her hand even more tightly. 'I believe that I can do this,' I said, after a moment's hesitation, 'but I most certainly cannot do it by myself. Would you come with me?'

Her eyes widened.

'It is hardly the most luxurious trip you will ever go upon,' I said, with a low laugh, 'not that I think that that would trouble you much! But... I wish very much to be able to carry out as much of my duties as I can - and I do not think that I can do that without you.'

Her face was inscrutable, and a stab of panic went through me, that I had misjudged her mood, or her wishes, or that she might think I wanted her to accompany me simply to help me with my illness, which was not the case. I floundered for a moment, and the urge to stop speaking was very strong, but I resisted it, and pushed on.

'I am not asking you to come simply to hold my hand,' I said quietly, and holding her hand. 'I want you beside me, and in my counsels. I have no desire to be parted from you, Éowyn, but I do not want a nurse - I want my dearest friend. My ally. My true contemporary.'

It was the best I could do, and so I did stop speaking then, although more significant in this, perhaps, was the fact that she had started running her fingers through my hair, which I had always liked a great deal. It was distracting me somewhat from my train of thought.

'Is it something we might try, Éowyn?' I managed.

'It is among one of many things that we might try.'

In the mid-afternoon we heard the first crash of thunder. The air was very close, but we remained wrapped about each other. At the sound of the thunder she pressed a little closer to me, and put her feet against me. I winced - they were freezing. I had forgotten that about her.

'Perhaps we should think of leaving soon,' I said, with little real enthusiasm. Spots of rain were appearing on the window.

'I would stay here for the rest of my life...' she murmured, closing her eyes. 'I would stop time, and remain here with you forever.'

I smiled to hear this most uncharacteristic display of romanticism. 'But we do have two children waiting for us in Ithilien,' I pointed out. 'One of whom will not forgive me should I break my promise to him to return by this evening.'

She opened her eyes and glared at me. 'I wonder when it is that you became so pragmatic?'

'I should imagine around the time that you began spouting poetry.'

She narrowed her eyes, and I awaited her comeback.

'I wonder what hour it is,' she mused at last. 'The Queen, no doubt, will be wondering where I am.' She stretched her body out along mine. 'No matter. I think she knew I intended to seduce you.'

Serious contemplation of how that particular exchange might have been conducted was not something I wanted to engage in, nor was the thought of just how rapidly this news would travel around my family. If I did think too much about it, I might be forced to weep. So I laughed instead, and she smirked back at me.

We rode out to Ithilien an hour or so later. The rain was falling steadily and, not long after we crossed the river, it began to come down in sheets. By the time we reached Emyn Arnen we were both soaked. I was still very happy, and I do not think I am assuming too much to say that she was also. So much desired, and yet so unexpected. I did not know yet how well my gamble in taking her north with me would work, nor whether she would indeed agree to stay with me. But, for the moment, I was content to subdue my mind to my good fortune, and suffer being happier than I perhaps deserved.

***

A/N: Floor-sinking - I had them sitting in a walled garden eating stolen apples! How much more explicit do you lot want?!? g

Faramir's last line is lifted almost wholesale from Persuasion. Can't you tell? The good bit of prose. He also quotes Douglas Dunn at one point. You won't believe how coy Faramir's been each time we sat down to do this chapter. I knew the boy was evasive, but...

A little tired writing this one, but wanted to post it before it got late here. I have a busy few days up ahead. One more chapter left to go. Last chance for any requests! g

Altariel