Chapter 8- Revelation of Loss
I have been out of the houses for seven days, and I have yet to rest. After the ring was destroyed in Mordor, I was declared healed, and I took up the mantel of my office. I am the last ruling steward, and my time in office will be concerned mainly with preparing the White City for the return of the King. My life has become absorbed in my work, and I haven't rested in days. It is a small price to pay, though, to see Gondor returned to its place of honor.
I was studying the rituals of coronation when a messenger from the archives interrupted me. I had sent my own errand boy down earlier to inquire about the location of the crown. My father had kept it hidden during his entire rule because he felt that the true King's lineage would have to proven many times before he had the right to rule. By hiding the crown he felt that this process would be made even harder. Unfortunately, my father's stubbornness was costing me a lot of annoyance once again.
A young page entered into my offices, and I could tell he felt out of place. He kept his eyes on the floor, looking up cautiously every now and then, unsure of how to behave.
"Well my young friend", I asked straightening in my chair, trying not to chuckle at his uneasiness, "what news is there from the archives?"
"We beg your pardon, ss-sir," he gulped, gaining up his courage, "but the Archive Masters haven't been able to find any records concerning the keeping of the crown."
Well, once again the search had turned up empty, and I was about to dismiss the boy, but something told me not to. There was something in his eyes that told me there was large worry upon his mind. "Thank you, my lad for bringing this news all the ways from the hall." I smiled hoping to come his nerves. "Is there anything else I can do for you before you return?"
"Well, actually Lord Steward, their is." He still couldn't look up at me, but continued to trace the pattern of the rug with his foot. "It is common knowledge in the land that the true King, Elfstone they call him, is to return to the throne in days. This rumor has made all of us at the Halls extremely excited, and all the old Masters searching for the lineage records and all. Yet, there is one in Gondor who seems to be caught still in the days of worry and bleakness."
"As you well know Milord, the Houses of Healing are located directly above the Halls, and everyday when I leave for midday meal, I look up and see the saddest sight. The beautiful maiden, the one that slain the Nazgul King, she is pale as frost. It seems to me that everyone else in Minas Tirith is rejoicing, but she remains downcast."
"It also doesn't make sense to me, or any of the other apprentices, that she of all people isn't rejoicing. She is one of the few people that have met the King, so she should be rejoicing even more than most; for she knows what honors lies ahead for the city. May wish to enquire of her about him, but her sadness keeps us away."
The boy's words had worried me, but his last statement caught me by surprise.
"You say the Lady has met the future King?"
" 'Ay, Lord. It is spoken about town that he stayed at the hall of her former King during the War."
"Well thank you for sharing your concern lad, I will see what is troubling the Lady. You may go," I excused him, with a half hearted smile upon my face, one that I hoped masked my worry.
It makes perfect sense that the Lady would have met the Lord Aragorn. He had come to Gondor from the North, so he would obviously have stayed in Rohan. He was probably even present at the battle of Helm's Deep. Yet, why would she have mentioned this to me?
All these thoughts were flying around in my head when I remembered the words Eowyn had spoken to me on our last day at the wall:
"Desire is one subject that is best forgotten. You hope for something so much that you blur the lines of reality, and don't see that what you want isn't perfect. You are only saddened by your loss in the end."
Eowyn had grown up amongst the men of Rohan, knowing only how they treated her, like family. Then, a stranger appeared, he treated her differently, and she had fallen. She has since realized that what she felt wasn't loss, but such a heavy revelation still hurts the soul. Now the reminder of the pain was returning, and she was returning to her foreign state.
I don't know why Eowyn refrained from telling me about her pain, but I can't blame her. I also understand what it means to lose what you thought was love. I know the pain all to well.
Indeed, it is not something to be delt with alone.
---- A/N: Sorry I have taken so long to update this. But I thank you for being so patient in the process, and to all those who keep reviewing.
Grpyhix: Thanks for reviewing as much as you do. Unfortunately "Mirrors" is extremely A/U, and I have a very different vision than most.
Siberia: Yes the language is modern, but I choose to make it this way. I have read your story, as well as many others of the E/F fanfic. You are good at writing that way, and I'm good at writing this way. It's the way I choose to write.
Once again, thanks to you all... and the story will probably be updated sooner than you think. -Malta
I have been out of the houses for seven days, and I have yet to rest. After the ring was destroyed in Mordor, I was declared healed, and I took up the mantel of my office. I am the last ruling steward, and my time in office will be concerned mainly with preparing the White City for the return of the King. My life has become absorbed in my work, and I haven't rested in days. It is a small price to pay, though, to see Gondor returned to its place of honor.
I was studying the rituals of coronation when a messenger from the archives interrupted me. I had sent my own errand boy down earlier to inquire about the location of the crown. My father had kept it hidden during his entire rule because he felt that the true King's lineage would have to proven many times before he had the right to rule. By hiding the crown he felt that this process would be made even harder. Unfortunately, my father's stubbornness was costing me a lot of annoyance once again.
A young page entered into my offices, and I could tell he felt out of place. He kept his eyes on the floor, looking up cautiously every now and then, unsure of how to behave.
"Well my young friend", I asked straightening in my chair, trying not to chuckle at his uneasiness, "what news is there from the archives?"
"We beg your pardon, ss-sir," he gulped, gaining up his courage, "but the Archive Masters haven't been able to find any records concerning the keeping of the crown."
Well, once again the search had turned up empty, and I was about to dismiss the boy, but something told me not to. There was something in his eyes that told me there was large worry upon his mind. "Thank you, my lad for bringing this news all the ways from the hall." I smiled hoping to come his nerves. "Is there anything else I can do for you before you return?"
"Well, actually Lord Steward, their is." He still couldn't look up at me, but continued to trace the pattern of the rug with his foot. "It is common knowledge in the land that the true King, Elfstone they call him, is to return to the throne in days. This rumor has made all of us at the Halls extremely excited, and all the old Masters searching for the lineage records and all. Yet, there is one in Gondor who seems to be caught still in the days of worry and bleakness."
"As you well know Milord, the Houses of Healing are located directly above the Halls, and everyday when I leave for midday meal, I look up and see the saddest sight. The beautiful maiden, the one that slain the Nazgul King, she is pale as frost. It seems to me that everyone else in Minas Tirith is rejoicing, but she remains downcast."
"It also doesn't make sense to me, or any of the other apprentices, that she of all people isn't rejoicing. She is one of the few people that have met the King, so she should be rejoicing even more than most; for she knows what honors lies ahead for the city. May wish to enquire of her about him, but her sadness keeps us away."
The boy's words had worried me, but his last statement caught me by surprise.
"You say the Lady has met the future King?"
" 'Ay, Lord. It is spoken about town that he stayed at the hall of her former King during the War."
"Well thank you for sharing your concern lad, I will see what is troubling the Lady. You may go," I excused him, with a half hearted smile upon my face, one that I hoped masked my worry.
It makes perfect sense that the Lady would have met the Lord Aragorn. He had come to Gondor from the North, so he would obviously have stayed in Rohan. He was probably even present at the battle of Helm's Deep. Yet, why would she have mentioned this to me?
All these thoughts were flying around in my head when I remembered the words Eowyn had spoken to me on our last day at the wall:
"Desire is one subject that is best forgotten. You hope for something so much that you blur the lines of reality, and don't see that what you want isn't perfect. You are only saddened by your loss in the end."
Eowyn had grown up amongst the men of Rohan, knowing only how they treated her, like family. Then, a stranger appeared, he treated her differently, and she had fallen. She has since realized that what she felt wasn't loss, but such a heavy revelation still hurts the soul. Now the reminder of the pain was returning, and she was returning to her foreign state.
I don't know why Eowyn refrained from telling me about her pain, but I can't blame her. I also understand what it means to lose what you thought was love. I know the pain all to well.
Indeed, it is not something to be delt with alone.
---- A/N: Sorry I have taken so long to update this. But I thank you for being so patient in the process, and to all those who keep reviewing.
Grpyhix: Thanks for reviewing as much as you do. Unfortunately "Mirrors" is extremely A/U, and I have a very different vision than most.
Siberia: Yes the language is modern, but I choose to make it this way. I have read your story, as well as many others of the E/F fanfic. You are good at writing that way, and I'm good at writing this way. It's the way I choose to write.
Once again, thanks to you all... and the story will probably be updated sooner than you think. -Malta