Part II
Faramir was pacing. He glanced over his shoulder every few minutes expecting the worst - and finding nothing. The King had not done a thing in the last two weeks. Had not uttered a sound. Even the spies Faramir had assigned to the Halls could come up with no new information on what Aragorn had planned for his Steward's wedding.
Faramir pulled at the large, ornate collar, once again shrugging his shoulders to make himself more comfortable. Then, another thought occurred to him. Perhaps this was the King's retribution: keeping Faramir a nervous wreck expecting something that would not happen.
Faramir sighed heavily and glanced at himself in the mirror. At least he was dressed. That was more than he could say for his King's appearance this close to his own wedding. He tugged at the collar of his tunic again in an attempt to keep it from choking him.
"If you pull at it one more time, I'm going to tie your hands to your sides." Aragorn strode into the room, resplendent in the rich colors of his house. The thin circlet adorning his head did little more than indicate his station. He wanted this to be Faramir's day, with no more pomp for the King than was absolutely necessary.
He glanced quickly at an amused Imrahil, who, the King noted, released a long held breath of relief. The Lord of Dol Amroth, too, had been expecting the King to exact his revenge. Imrahil had to admit, with a silent chuckle, he would not have blamed the King for getting back at his nephew.
A knock on the door startled Faramir so much he nearly knocked over a nearby table, on which sat a lovely bouquet of fragrant flowers. Aragorn grinned and watched with amusement as Faramir strode over to another small table and grasped one of the mugs of ale that had been left for the three men. He took a long swig, glanced up at the King and then took another. Perhaps the nervousness would fade the more intoxicated he got.
"Peace, my friend," Aragorn dropped a comforting hand on Faramir's shoulder. "It will be over soon."
Faramir wasn't sure if he should be worried or relieved by those words as he sloshed the ale around the mug and marveled at its taste. It was a bit – different than the ale to which he was normally accustomed.
Imrahil and Faramir glanced around nervously as a guard rushed through the doors without knocking and moved straight to Aragorn's side, whispering into his ear. The shocked look on Aragorn's face caused the two men concern but Aragorn excused himself and walked out too quickly for them to intervene.
A few moments later, the King returned, his expression grim. "It appears Eowyn has changed her mind."
The two men turned and stared at the King as Aragorn continued. "I have the guard looking for her, but, it may delay the ceremony a bit."
"She's WHAT?!" Faramir dropped the mug of ale he was holding and stared agape at his King.
Aragorn stepped out of the way of the falling mug as its contents spilled all over the floor, soaking the rug. "Well, thankfully you didn't spill it all over yourself. It would be most disconcerting to have to find you additional clothing befitting a wedding. Since these were custom-made for you-" Aragorn trailed off, staring at his friend.
Faramir barely registered the spilled glass as Imrahil cocked his head and stared at Aragorn. Could this be true? Or was this Aragorn's long-awaited retribution? Imrahil couldn't tell. Aragorn's face was a mask of confusion mirrored by that of his nephew. Time would give the Lord of Dol Amroth all the answers he would need – provided Faramir didn't die of heart failure first.
"I can't believe she'd do this. This can't be happening." Faramir stalked back to the table and grabbed one of the other mugs, completely ignoring the spilled contents at his feet. His hands shook as he gripped it tightly and took another long swig. "Why? Does anyone know? Did she speak to anyone? Where were her attendants?"
Aragorn stared as Faramir continued to babble out his questions, leaving no room for either himself or Imrahil to respond. Aragorn noticed the odd look Imrahil was giving him and glanced quickly toward the Lord of Dol Amroth. With a quick wink, Aragorn assured Imrahil all was well.
Imrahil closed his eyes and stalked to the table where the last remaining mug sat untouched. He quickly removed it and took a long swig, and then another, drawing a worried look from Faramir and an amused one from Aragorn. Imrahil patted Faramir on the shoulder and walked toward the door, mug in hand. He was going to need it.
"She hasn't been alone all day. She couldn't have been. So many things to prepare. There would be attendants all over the place. We must find her! Someone must know!" Faramir was near hyperventilating now as he downed the remaining contents of the mug.
Aragorn clasped his friend on the shoulder. "I have the Citadel being searched. She can't have gone far."
Suddenly, Elladan strode into the room, the large double doors being pulled shut behind him by the citadel guards. "There is no sign of her." Elladan sighed as he neared his foster-brother. "Elrohir is still looking. I've informed Arwen that there will be a delay. She will inform the minister."
Faramir listened intently to the elf's words, heart sinking into his stomach with every passing second. He began to pace, looking for another mug of ale and frowning when he realized the mugs were empty.
Faramir barely registered Aragorn turning his back to him and clasping Elladan on the shoulder. "Thank you for your dedication to this matter."
Imrahil gripped the wall when he noticed Aragorn wink at his brother, verifying for the Prince of Dol Amroth the double-meaning of his King's words.
"I need to go find her!" Faramir rushed toward the door but was blocked by Aragorn turning and placing a restraining hand on his shoulder. "You can do no more than is already being done. Running frantically about the Citadel on your wedding day will be more cause for concern than Eowyn's mysterious disappearance. That- and- I don't need the people thinking my Steward has lost his wits – even though that is how it appears."
"And you would feel exactly the same were you in my position and Arwen changed her mind mere minutes before the ceremony!" Faramir shot back, hands shaking with frustration and nervousness, "And there would be nothing in Middle-Earth that could keep you locked in here while other's searched for her!" Faramir straightened and stared at the man that still held him from the door. "Now, stand aside!"
Aragorn didn't budge, simply raised an eyebrow at being spoken to in such a way. That small gesture was all that was needed before Faramir groaned and stepped away, muttering a very sincere apology to his King.
Suddenly, Elrohir strode through the doors and stopped next to his brother. He was smiling widely, which gave hope to the man not in on the cruel ruse. "All is well. We've found a replacement that should do quite well in Lady Eowyn's absence."
Faramir stared at the twins aghast. Imrahil took another long swig of Dwarven ale, hoping against all hope to be forgotten and left out of the jest.
"How could you say-" Faramir stopped. Something was not right here. Imrahil was standing far too close to the door for his comfort, and there was a highly amused look on Aragorn's face as he watched Elrohir deliver pre-arranged lines without a moments hesitation. With a jolt of disgust, Faramir realized he'd been had.
"You are going to pay for this Aragorn!"
Aragorn doubled over in laughter as Imrahil leaned against a nearby table and chuckled lightly to himself. The twins collapsed against each other in laughter as Faramir's heated gaze swept over them.
"Ahh, I do believe turnabout is fair play, my friend. Consider us even for the torment of my wedding day." Aragorn stepped over to the twins and clasped their shoulders. "Thank you for your assistance. It has worked quite well."
Faramir shook his head as a bell tolled, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He gulped and stared at the mug in his hand. He'd had a considerable amount of Dwarven ale and was beginning to feel the effects of it already. Leave it to Gimli to provide the ale for the wedding party. Perhaps he was in on Aragorn's jest. If he fell over at the alter, Aragorn, High King or no, was going to regret it.
Aragorn wiped the satisfied smirk off his face and walked over to Faramir to straighten his slightly rumpled clothing.
"Nervousness is common," Aragorn began with a smile. "I remember it quite well." He turned Faramir around so the man could look at himself in the floor length mirror. "You look quite presentable, Lord Faramir. Just remember," Aragorn cast another wide smile at Imrahil, "She will be more beautiful than you could ever hope to be."
Faramir stepped away and paced to the window, seeing the crowd gathered in the streets below, waiting for a mere glimpse of their newly married Steward. The sight didn't help his nerves. It made them worse. There were nearly as many people waiting outside the walls as there had been for Aragorn's wedding.
"You are well loved by this city, Lord Steward," Aragorn smiled warmly as he, too, glanced out the window and onto the streets and courtyard below. "This is your day. Enjoy it."
Faramir nodded slowly, glancing outside and the friends gathered to escort him to the ceremony. He took another swig of ale and gulped it down nervously.
"You're pathetic, Faramir."
"You're one to talk, Lord King!" Faramir whirled to face Aragorn, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You nearly paced a hole in the floor."
Aragorn chuckled as he heard a loud ringing. "Ah, the bell. I must go." He turned to Imrahil. "Be sure that he arrives on time, please. I do not wish to be called upon to entertain the crowd. They would not enjoy my jokes at Faramir's expense."
Faramir looked at Aragorn without bothering to mask the horror spreading across his features.
Aragorn laughed. "Yes, my friend. As your King and Liege Lord, I am bound to officiate the ceremony. You know this."
Faramir gulped. " I know. I must have conveniently forgotten." He'd hoped the ceremony would be officiated by the Gondorian minister. He hadn't even thought, thanks to Aragorn's promise of retribution, about the ceremony itself, just in getting to that point without being too terribly nervous.
"Everything that happens in the Hall of Kings will follow protocol." Aragorn assured the young Steward. "Once the ceremony ends," Aragorn shrugged, "What will be, will be."
"You wouldn't," Faramir muttered, eyes pleading with his King.
Aragorn stared at Faramir, horrified that his Steward would think he would sabotage the ceremony or the reception following. Aragorn straightened and stared smugly at Faramir. His Steward didn't need to know that he had no plans of the sort. Perhaps he would just let the man sweat it out for a while longer.
Aragorn turned on his heal, followed by the twins, and opened the door. Before stepping through it, he called over his shoulder to Faramir. "Don't be late."
Faramir stood rooted in place and did not move until Imrahil's hand on his arm brought him out of his terrified thoughts.
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A sharp knock startled the three women and they turned to look expectantly at entrance to the chamber. When Arwen called, 'Enter', the double doors opened and Eomer, resplendent in attire befitting the Rohirrim King, strode happily toward his sister.
Eowyn smiled as her brother bent to place a loving kiss to her cheek. He stared at his sister in complete wonder. Never had he seen her so radiant, so beautiful, dressed in the most elegant combination of Gondorian and Rohirrim silks and lace he had ever seen. Long strands of her golden hair was coifed atop her head with the rest falling in circlets around her face. "You are beautiful." He muttered in awe as Eowyn blushed. He brushed a callused hand across her cheek. "Faramir is a lucky man." He nodded respectfully to the Queen, who, as ever, radiated a beauty none could ever hope to match.
"That he is," Arwen smiled thoughtfully.
Eomer broke the silence that fell after a few moments. "The bells have tolled, are you ready?"
Eowyn took a deep breath and glanced quickly at Arwen and Lothíriel, who smiled widely in return. Arwen placed a gentle hand on her arm, "You are as ready as you can be. You look beautiful."
Eowyn smiled warmly, drawing a nervous breath. "I'm sure Faramir is far more nervous than I."
"If my husband has anything to do with it, yes, I'm sure he is squirming in his boots about now." Arwen chuckled. Despite her best attempts at prying the information from her secretive husband, Arwen had not been able to discover what 'revenge' Aragorn had planned for the torment that Faramir spearheaded on his own wedding day.
"You could get nothing out of Aragorn?" Eowyn flattened the folds of her gown, eyes pleading with Arwen in hopes that she had discovered some secret plan.
"Nothing." Arwen turned Eowyn to the mirror and began to smooth the lace on her gown. "And I was most persuasive…."
Arwen trailed off and smiled warmly at the memory. The lingering touch was foremost in her mind and she shuddered from the memory. She could only think that Aragorn could have nothing planned, because she had worked quite hard at getting her husband to reveal anything regarding this day.
Eowyn's eyes widened and she chuckled. "I don't think I want to know."
"I know that I do not wish to hear," Eomer chuckled and exchanged an understanding look with Imrahil's daughter, Lothíriel, who blushed and glanced at her feet.
Arwen noticed the look the two exchanged but was distracted by her husband rushing through the doors to check the status of the party. "All is well?" Aragorn stepped beside his wife and wrapped his arm around her waist. When he bent to press a lingering kiss to her lips, Lothíriel glanced quickly at Eomer and blushed again, averting her eyes.
When they didn't part quickly enough, Eomer interrupted as kindly as he could. "Ok, you two." Eomer clasped Aragorn on the shoulder to part the recently wed royal couple. "Yes, all is ready."
Aragorn's hand trailed down his wife's cheek, and they exchanged a smoldering look, as Eomer extended his hand to his sister. He turned to the King who he could see parted reluctantly from his radiant wife. "After you."
Aragorn extended his hand and Arwen laced her arm through his as they walked out the double doors toward the King's hall where the Steward of Ithilian and the Princess of Rohan would be wed.
Only time would tell if the King had any further retribution to deliver.
END – Or is it?
There will be an 'interlude' between Aragorn and Arwen that details her unsuccessful attempts at prying information her husband. Due to it's rating, it will not be able to be posted here. Instead it will be posted on my site but feel free to leave feedback for it here.
Greenleafed One: He knelt to thank and honor Elrond and the gift that he was placing in Aragorn's hands. He knelt to Arwen to show her and the assembled crowd that he loved and honored her above all else. And that he was not above her, even though he was her King.
TBC means To Be Continued.
mildred the fish – Sorry, no actual wedding for Eowyn and Faramir. I can't write them well enough, nor am I dedicated enough to telling their story. My favs are Aragorn & Arwen! :) I know the ceremony was nothing like it probably should have been, but I thought it worked well for what I had written.
Thanks for the reviews everyone!