Seven

If there is one thing I, Faramir son of the late Denethor II, have learned it is that if you do not want to be found then someone is definitely going to find you. Especially when you are stripped to the skin and wading in waist-deep water. That was my fate, and I should have seen it coming but I had been too deep in thought to even fathom that the plan would immediately go into effect and Eowyn would spontaneously ride out to find me. Of course she would.

I had just found the bottom of the spring and taken a seat in it; the water lightly grazed the bottom of my chin, and my palms came to rest slowly on two flat rocks; and I closed my eyes to let the warm sun grace my bare skin. It felt wonderful, but I had drifted off, and the sound of hooves beating the ground escaped my hearing until the horse Eowyn rode whistled shrilly, and my eyes snapped back open. The White Lady dismounted in one smooth motion.

"Faramir, I know you have had something to do with this, so do not deny it and tell me all of the truth!" she stormed over the edge of the spring and the wind swept by so quickly that her dress stuck to her left side and displayed the concave of her waist and the swell of her hip, and I could not help but notice, and in doing so forgot my current situation and stood abrupty.

"Something to do with what?"

Eowyn shrieked and quickly shot her head to the side and clamped her eyes shut, her cheeks flushing pink and her exquisite moonpale hands hiding her eyes. I looked down and felt heat pricked down my neck and my back in embarrassment.

"Oh."

"Faramir, you brute!"

"I…forgot, M'Lady!"

"Forgot you were naked?!"

"Well…yes!"

"Most men wear trousers when they swim!" she snapped, still averting her eyes. "Even Boromir does!"

I turned white with sudden jealously. "You have watched my brother swim in his trousers?!"

"No, I…" Eowyn glared at me without actually looking at me, an interesting feat, and then said with calm anger, "We need to talk."

I muttered an apology and I got down into the water, wading to the shore to grab my clothes. I shoved forward, but just as my luck would have it they were out of my reach by a foot or two. I strained my arm, but despite my efforts I could not snare my clothing with even my finger tips without showing the lady, once again, my lower regions.

"Eh…Eowyn, could you…?" I gestured helplessly to the clothing, and without turning around she gracelessly kicked my garnments at me with one of her white-shoed feet. I made sure she was not looking and as soon as I had climbed up out of the water I pulled my trousers on. I muttered something about the fact that it was safe for her to turn around, and she did, still looking embarrassed at what she had seen. It could not be anything compared to my humiliation! Never the less I pulled my tunic on in silence.

"I…as I was saying, Faramir," Eowyn cleared her throat, cheeks still pink and pale eyes blinking as if she had stared into the brightness of the sun – she did not entirely focus on me, as if worried my clothes would magically fall off. "The King has been arrested for this fire that everyone seems to think you started!"

I had never lied before this – well, I am sure I had as a child, to my mother or father after having broken a vase or a chair, claiming it was all my brother's fault, but aside from that I did not  - and to lie to Eowyn was something I never wanted to do. It was not wise, but I had to tell her the truth. "The King turned himself in, Lady," I said quietly, almost guiltily, and slung my outer garnments over my shoulder, impolitely walking past her. "And I did not start the fire."

Eowyn spun to face my back in anger. "Faramir, if you not then who? I…I want to believe you, but they say even you were in there today turning yourself in and the King turned himself in for you!"

"That is rubbish, would he do such a thing for me, with all of his burdens to deal with as it stands?"

"Aragorn would." she said, and her jaw was set firm, her eyes hard on me. "He would and you know it. Aragorn is good, and cares for his friends…and he holds you in such high esteem, you and your brother both." I felt a stab of hurt hit me, and quailed a bit. I knew Eowyn had once loved Aragorn, and though he was now married to an Elven princess, she probably still suffered from never having him. I shook my head and cleared my throat to ease the tightness.

"Eowyn, I…I did not start the fire." I told her, and came closer to her, letting the clothing over my left shoulder drop heavily to the ground behind me as I gripped her gently by the tops of her arms. "I would never do such a thing to my dear brother, you know this, and never would I do anything to let the King go to jail."

"Yet there he sits."

I swallowed. "Peregrin Took started the fire."

Eowyn's eyes widened, then narrowed, and she opened her mouth as if to say something and her eyes widened again. "Pippin Took? Dear, sweet Pippin Took, Meriadoc's cousin…?! He started the – he started the fire?!" I could not help but smile at my friend's reaction, but she did not appreciate it. "Faramir, you jest!"

"I do not." I assured her, lightly running my thumbs over the material of her dress sleeves as I spoke. "Aragorn knows this, and does not wish to forcefully arrest Pippin. He hopes that this little scheme will get Pippin to peacefully turn himself in."

Lady Eowyn stared at me for sometime, not believing me, and by the look in her eyes I could tell she wanted to and did not want to all at once. Finally she brought her slender hands up to her golden head and pushed her hair from her face. She laughed. "T-that is why is has turned himself in? I, well…I would not have gotten so angry at you, why is it you did not tell me before this?"

"We thought to keep it between the four of us – Boromir, Aragorn, myself and the guard." I looked over my shoulder absently to the green fields and the distant shapes of buildings and the city. The citadel and the White Tower could be seen from where we stood together, beneath the endless blue sky. I turned back to her. "But now that you know, you must also keep it a secrete until all is settled. Will you do that for me, my friend?"

Eowyn laughed breathlessly, and it sparkled in the amber of her eyes. "I feel so silly, yes, of course I will." Then she did something that I will never forget, and at that moment had made my heart pound mercilessly in the cage of my chest to be free: she cupped the back of my head in her palm, stood on the tips of her toes and kissed me, very lightly, on my brow. "For you." When she pulled away I stood there, my eyes wide and my jaw slack like an idiot that had just stumbled upon a treasure.

I could not speak, and I was breathless. Breathless, indeed, for I had no care to breathe. Breathing was stupid, simple, boring and paled in comparison to this wonderful feeling! Unfortunately, breathing is a necessity and if one forgets to breathe they promptly pass out. I only vaguely remember hitting the ground, and hearing a distant sweet voice.

"Faramir!"

--- --- ---

What happened after this, I will not tell, but it did involve me trying to convince Eowyn that the cold water had gotten to my head. To my surprise, she believed me. I am told, however, that while I walked and talked with my beloved, as we lead her horse back into the city, that someone else had heard of the King's arrest.

The queen.

Arwen Evenstar, a frail and strong, beautiful and mysterious, kind and loving elven princess, made her way proudly through the crowded streets of Minas Tirith with her silken cloak about her, wavering in the wind. Her usual maidens followed her, now and then smiling at her with that deep respect they all held – everyone knew the story of how Arwen had given up the immortal destiny of her people to seek a new destiny: giving her love to a mortal man.

I suppose in these past weeks, so I have been told, that Arwen had seemed unhappy, discontented and very quiet. Aragorn paid dearly for her vague discontenment emotionally, though he tried not to show it or bring such things into view of even his closest friends, we could see it in his eyes. He worried for the love of his wife.

Arwen pressed on silently, dark hair blazing behind her as a banner of rich silks and scarves with the wind. She made her way up the stone steps of the House of Justice, and her maidens held the doors open while the guards stood in surprise and bowed respectfully.

"My Queen Lady, it is an honor to see you," the captain guard said shakily, keeping his head bowed until the doors were closed and she had taken the cloak off. "I can only assume you have come to speak with the King Elessar, who sits in the jail cell in the back? Perhaps you will talk him out of this…?"

"I intend to remove him from this place, yes." she answered confidently, in a voice as soft as music and as gentle as a blanket on a sleeping child. Arwen smiled at him and took a seat delicately on one of the chairs near the captain's large wooden desk, folding her hands over her lap. "I will stay in his place."

The guard looked at her, deadpanned. His brows were so low they did not even bother to move up, and he looked at her not as a queen but as another one of these crazy people all strangely enthusiastic to volunteer responsibility for the decimation of the Steward's home. After a moment he loosened up, and came to his knees before her. "My Queen, my Lady Arwen…I do not know what has gotten into Minas Tirith. I do not. The Steward's quarters were burned into ash, and then an inn keeper admits to it. Then the Steward admits to it. Then his brother wishes to admit to it, and finally – the last straw, Madam Queen – the King admits to starting the fire." he stooped a bit to look into the depths of her midnight eyes. "Do you not see something wrong in this picture?"

"There is something wrong here." she said softly. "And until this wrong is righted, I will take my husband's place."

The guard's shoulders sagged in bewilderment (I knew how he felt!). "Very well then. Come with me, My Queen." The guard stood and politely extended a hand to escort her to the long hall, and then into the cell chambers where Aragorn sat on a bench at the very end of it, lacing his boots up. Aragorn looked up.

"Arwen, what are you doing here?" he asked her kindly, and stood to come to the bars. Aragorn gripped them in curled fists and leaned his forhead to them, smiling at his wife. "Have you come to keep me company, love?"

"She comes to replace you, my King." the guard said firmly, removing a large key from his leather-bound belt and jamming it into the lock. He opened the door and Aragorn stared at Arwen in disbelief. "You may leave…not as if we actually had the authority to hold you, because this entire situation is insane, but you may leave nonetheless." the guard looked at his kind, and then bowed his head. "Forgive my ranting, my King."

"May I speak with my wife?" Aragorn said to the guard, and he nodded, moving out of the hall. The King turned to the Queen and set his large hands on her shoulders gently. "Arwen, why have you come here? This is not the place for you! Go back to our home and enjoy the sun and the sky!" Aragorn kissed her brow, but Arwen covered his hands with her own.

"This is not the place for Gondor's king, either, my lord," she whispered. "Aragorn."

Aragorn's brows lifted slowly and slightly, and he moved his face back a bit from hers. "You have come here to replace me…for what reason? It is illogical!" then his voice lowered. "Are you so unhappy? Is this the meaning of your silence, and your downcast stares, and the whistfullness on your face?"

Arwen regarded him quietly. "You think I do not love you."

Aragorn exhaled softly, touching the side of her face with hesitant fingers. "I do not doubt, but…hope that you still hold that love you gave to me so many years ago, dearest Arwen." The queen took his hand once more, and replied,

"You think I do not love you, but you know that I will always love you." she brought his hands and clutched them tightly to her chest. "I will never be unhappy, or discontent when I share this life with you! I have accepted this fate, this doom of men, with open arms because I love you!" Arwen kissed Aragorn. "I love you, and that will never fade, dearest!"

Aragorn could not help but smile, could not leave the joy concleaed in his chest. "Then why…have you been so quiet lately, Arwen?"

Arwen smiled, her blue eyes shining in the reflection of his, and her dark hair spilling behind her back as a curtain. She reached up to kiss him once more, and then whispered, "I am with child."

Together the King and Queen exited the House of Justice, happy, excited, and most of all content. A felicitous glow lingered around them.

But the plan was foiled, and I was back to square one. When I saw Aragorn again, later that day, I found him in his long dining hall walking around the table and twirling his sword around in his hand expertly, a grin on his face and his eyes shining in a way I had only seen once before. I bowed respectfully, but when he walked toward me asked,

"Why are you not in jail, my King? Has Peregrin confessed?"

Aragorn did not answer my question. Instead he gripped my arms and said breathlessly, "She loves me!"

"I beg your pardon?"

He turned back to me after having turned away. "The stewards quarters have been burned to the ground and the culprit is running loose, but my wife loves me!" he grabbed for my elbows again and pulled me close, so close I felt like the guards might arrest me for assault on the King. "Arwen is with child, Faramir! With child!"

I laughed merrily, embracing my King back in all of his joy. "Congradulations!" I took his hand in both of mine and shook it roughly. "My King, how splendid! Who knows so far?"

"Only you, Arwen and myself." he said. "Faramir, this is a day I will never forget!" He laughed and hugged me again.

--- --- ---

Peregrin Took had business of his own to attend to. Once again I must apologize to the respective characters in this story should I leave anything out. This is only an account of what my friends have told me on how these events played out, and I do my best to relay it to you.

He paced before the steps of the guest house where Diamond and Rosie had been staying, hands shoved into the pockets of his blue jacket and his curly head looking to the porch. The wind stung his eyes when it hit the tears that pricked them, and he did not look up to meet it. Pippin summoned up his courage and brought his gaze to the door. Diamond was inside that building, probably still crying over what he had done to her at the banquet, or simpering over that soldier that kissed her.

The hobbit ran a sleeve across his eyes and shook his head, marching boldly up the steps and to the door. Pippin was glad Aragorn and Arwen had both left the House of Justice as free people, so he would not have to confess himself now – he had been preparing to go confess when he heard the news. He knocked on the door, and it cracked when a tall older woman with silver hair peered at him.

"Gradlyn, is Diamond here?"

"Aye, young Peregrin Took. Come inside – "

"Gradlyn, no, don't let him in here!" the voice was all too familiar, and the servant Gradlyn moved to the side as Diamond came to look through the crack in the large door. Her eyes sparked in anger when she saw him, but she asked diplomatically, "Why have you come?"

"To say…" Pippin mumbled, hoping tears would not surface again. "To say I-I'm sorry for my behavior. Please, Diamond, do not be angry with me anymore!"

"I don't hold anything against you, Pippin Took," she said, and her cheeks tinged pink as he spoke. "But I have told you I found another."

"A soldier?!" he spat, this time indignant and angry. "A simple soldier of the big people? They're clumsy and blundering and foolish! How could you choose a soldier over a Took?!"

"Because," she answered evenly. "This is no soldier. He is no blundering, clumsy fool. He is Gondor's Captain."

Pippin paled, and must have felt hollow, empty and betrayed by me. He swallowed, and confirmed, meekly, "Faramir?"

"Yes." she pulled back. "Faramir. Goodbye, Peregrin Took. I will see you when we leave." And Diamond of Long Cleeve shut the door, her pretty face unseen by Peregrin for the next two days. He stood there, hands in his pockets and his eyes on the planks of the porch. His mouth was dry, and he repeated my name slowly.

Though it had not been my fault, I still felt, somewhere deep down, that I had betrayed one of my dearest friends.