Author's Note--If you want to get Faramir's POV on this particular time in his life, then I highly recommend you read The Fire Sermon, by Altariel, who was kind enough to let me mooch some ideas for this chapter. It's great stuff.
By the time Lorend and I reported to the Citadel the next morning, Faramir had been sworn in as Steward, with only Lord Hurin, the Marshal of the Riders and the Lady Eowyn in attendance. I own I was a bit hurt that I hadn't been invited, but I didn't tell him that. He was trying to learn the job of Steward in a time of crisis, with many matters to attend to and all seemingly of equal urgency, he was still not completely healed, and the continual reminders of his father's presence, in the form of much unfinished business, perpetually unnerved him.
We worked far into the night most days, and over time, a certain distribution of responsibility took place. Lorend, with his bad leg, was easier in the saddle than I was with my broken ribs, so he became Faramir's aide in the field and general errand boy, while I remained in the Steward's office, organizing scrolls and paperwork, taking down the names and business of petitioners, and occaisionally intimidating people who had the idea that their business was more important than it actually was, and access to the Steward imperative. Much to my surprise, and a bit to my dismay, people in the Citadel were somewhat frightened of me. My unusual hair, the scar on my face, and the fact that I talked to giant eagles all combined to make me an uncanny creature, and I could hardly countenance some of the stories that were circulating about me.
Lorend found it all hilarious, but Faramir, sensing my discomfort, made an effort to suppress the most outrageous rumors. Those days were something of a sweet torment for me, for I spent most of my waking hours in his company, more even than in Ithilien, for there I had shared him with two hundred Rangers, and now it was just the three of us. I had always been sensitive to his moods and wishes; here, I enjoyed a certain success anticipating his wants and needs, and received much approbation in return. The looks of surprised pleasure, the jokes, the friendly squeeze of my hand or shoulder--these I saved up in memory, against the day when he would return again to Eowyn. For he had no time for her now, was hard-pressed to do much more than send her the occaisional note. Lorend and I had been moved into rooms in the Citadel itself, down the hall but a little way from the one we'd stayed in with Mablung that memorable night, though we seldom saw our beds. We were too busy to be moving back and forth to the Houses of Healing, and in truth no longer needed to be there anyway. Any leechcraft we still required could be dealt with in a visit.
I did feel sorry for Eowyn, left behind in the House with naught but the hobbit Meriadoc for company. Merry was her friend, and a sweet soul, but I was sure that there were things she could not speak of to him. We had much in common, she and I, Faramir being not the least, but I could not imagine her unburdening herself to the ladies who assisted in the House. Indeed, she seemed to find them a necessary evil, even as I would have, to be tolerated but not cultivated. And Faramir, whether she loved him or not, was nothing if not a good conversationalist, who could talk knowledgeably about a broad range of topics. What she was doing to fill her days right now, I had no idea. But I suspected it wasn't needlework.
A week into Faramir's reign as Steward, he had a message he wanted delivered to the engineer overseeing the restoration of the Pelennor. The weather, which had been warmly sunny up to now, had turned grey, cold and windy, with the occaisional spit of rain. Lorend was unenthused about the errand, and I volunteered in his place.
"For I've not been out of this building for a week, and if I don't get some fresh air soon, some of those stories they're telling about me are going to start coming true!"
"You mean the ones where you eat babies, or feed them to eagles?" asked Lorend with relish. "Or the ones about you lurking in the deepest regions of the Citadel and drinking hapless victims' blood or the--
"That will be quite enough, Lieutenant." Faramir quelled him with a severe look, then gave me an apologetic one.
"I'm sorry, Heth, I hadn't even been thinking about it, but you're right, you have been rather penned up here. Take the errand, if you wish it--are your ribs sound enough to ride?"
"If I take it slow." I assured him. "Write your message." He did so, and sealed it with the silver ring that had been his father's, and I took it and bowed, and left. I was almost out the door when a thought hit me, and I returned to my room and grabbed a spare tabard, then to Lorend's room to borrow his cloak. At the courier stables, I had them saddle a second horse while I attended to my own, then I mounted mine and led the other out of the courtyard.
The Houses of Healing were within easy walking distance, and a short time later, I was tethering the two horses to a post in front of the door, and slipping inside. I knew where Eowyn's room was, and no one questioned my presence there--Lorend had delivered Faramir's messages to her often enough. A tired sounding "Enter" answered my knock on the door.
I stuck my head in and found the Lady of Rohan sitting by the fire and doing.....needlework?
"Somehow, I didn't picture you as the embroidery type," I said. Her look of sorrowful boredom changed to something resembling pleased surprise.
"Captain Hethlin! Bring you a message from the Steward? Excellent! I would much prefer that you deliver them. That other fellow he always sends ogles me so."
"Lorend? He's my lieutenant, so I give you permission to smite him. Repeatedly if necessary, and it probably will be." I came into the room and over to her, and looked down upon her handiwork.
"Nice bird."
She frowned down at it. "It's supposed to be a flower."
"Oh. Sorry." I looked at it more closely for a moment. "Yes, I think I can safely say that you're another one who'll never be allowed near Mablung's neck."
"I beg your pardon?" So I told her the tale of Mablung's neck, and certain comments Faramir had made about my sewing ability over the years, and she laughed and looked happier.
Eventually, she asked me my reason for being there.
"I've got to deliver a message down on the Pelennor, and I thought you might like to come with me. I've got two horses waiting outside."
"I rather doubt that a ride on the Pelennor on a day like this is part of the Warden's plan to hasten my recovery," she said bitterly.
"I wasn't planning on consulting the Warden," I replied, looking her straight in the eye. "Here." And I threw her the cloak and the tabard. Her blue eyes began to gleam. "If you want to come, get changed, and we'll do your hair up under the cloak." I didn't need to ask her twice. I stood with my back to her, watching the fire politely while she changed, and didn't turn till she asked, "Could you help me with this?" 'This' was her hair, which she couldn't braid with her injured arm, so I stood behind her, clumsily braided it, and tied it with a ribbon she provided..
"My goodness, there's an awful lot of it."
"Did you never wear your hair long?"
"Not after I joined the Rangers. Too much trouble. And I was trying to pass for a lad. Here, just let it hang down your back, and we'll hide it with the cloak. And keep your hood up. If people find out who you are, you'll be getting all sorts of attention you might not want. You're a great hero in the City."
"Will you get in trouble because of this?"
"Oh, most likely. But I've been a very good girl for a very long time. And I was so tired of being cooped up in the Citadel that all I could think of when I got out was that you'd been cooped up here even longer."
"That is very kind of you, Hethlin."
"Maybe it is. I'm certainly not acting in my own best interest here! I just get irritated with the way they treat you sometimes. I know how I'd feel if they treated me that way."
"Indeed. I am still puzzled as to why they do not. Treat you that way, I mean."
"Surely it's obvious. I'm no use to them as a broodmare, so if I'm killed in battle, 'tis no great loss. That, lady, is the price of the freedom you crave."
"Oh, Hethlin."
"Well, enough of that! Here, walk you beside me. We go out fast, and like we have urgent business." She did as I bade her, and we made it out the door without incident. She tipped her head up to the sky for a moment and sniffed the air, then looked at the horse somewhat critically.
"He's not much."
"Neither of them are. But I can't handle a feisty war stallion right now, and if you say that you can, with a half-healed broken arm and after sitting on your arse all this time, I'll call you a liar to your face." Her laugh rang out loudly on the quiet street, as she saw to her girth and stirrups.
"You must come with my brother and me when we return to Edoras! You would be very popular in Rohan."
"Are you saying I should have been born blonde?" I asked, swinging up into the saddle.
"I'm saying you're too honest and straightforward to be a good Gondorrim, and besides, our horses are better!"
"No argument there, milady--though the Prince of Dol Amroth has some nice beasts."
"Only because his family has been importing horses from us for generations," she replied smugly.
"Well, if I'm allowed, perhaps I will travel with you. I would dearly love to see your herds."
Eowyn finally mounted her horse, and we set off slowly through the streets. I gave her a running description of the restoration projects she saw going on around her, for after a week of intensive study, my knowledge of the City was far greater than it had been. She was obviously uncomfortably in the echoing stone avenues.
"This place is so much bigger than Edoras. There are so many people!"
"Before the War, fully a third of the City was uninhabited. I imagine that that will change soon, when the King returns. Before long, there won't be an empty window in the place." I realized after a moment that I had put my foot in my mouth. "Sorry about mentioning the King, my lady."
"Oh no, Hethlin, it's quite all right. You may talk as you please! I am so grateful to be out of those walls! But I must say, you are certainly an adaptable person! You've been a farmer's daughter, and a Ranger, and now you're a clerk. What will you be next?"
"A Ranger captain, hopefully! If not that, then maybe a King's courier. And after that, maybe eventually, a horse breeder."
"Hmmmmm. Well then, perhaps your kindness to me is in your own best interest after all!" I started to make an indignant denial, then looked at her, saw that she was grinning at me, and laughed myself.
"Perhaps it is!" We passed out of the Gate at this moment, and proceeded down the Causeway Road.
"If you want to go any faster, now's the time," I told Eowyn, "But keep to the Road to do it--there's all sorts of holes and things everywhere else." She nodded, and urged her horse into a canter. I matched her pace. Neither of us lasted very long, and by mutual agreement, we slowed to a walk once more. I looked about the section of the Road we were now on, and shivered.
"Is something the matter?" she inquired, a concerned look on her face.
"Oh, it....it's nothing...." I made a vague wave towards my cheek. "It's just that this is about the place where we made our last stand." She nodded understandingly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No....not really....I just....." I rode on a little way further before I turned to her.
"You have to understand that by the time we got up here, we'd been fighting with almost no rest for two days." She nodded again, as the words began to spill from me.
"We thought we were home free. I could see it in his eyes. It was the first time we'd been close together in the fight. He told me we'd charge them once more, maybe twice. Then all these orcs and Southrons came boiling up right out of nowhere, and we knew we were doomed. I saw his face change, and it made my blood run cold. To make matters worse, the Nazgul were on us as well." It was Eowyn's turn to shiver.
"We sent the foot on, to try to save as many as we could. He started fighting this Haradrim captain, and when he fell, I was desperate to keep him from being trampled, so I tried to engage the man and got trounced for my pains. I wasn't good enough to beat him in a fair fight, so I grabbed his arm and let him land a blow on me, hoping he wouldn't kill me, and that I would have enough strength to finish him. That's where my ribs got broken. And I managed to do it, but I don't remember anything much after that but standing over Faramir, and slashing at anything that came my way. And I was crying the whole time, I just couldn't stop. I kept crying even after Dol Amroth rescued us, and after I stopped crying, I shook for another hour after that. So I guess I wasn't very brave about it."
"I cried too," Eowyn reminisced softly. "He was so very tall, and so very horrible, I couldn't look at him." I made a soft sound of agreement .
"Do you know, I think if Merry hadn't been there, I wouldn't have been able to do it? And not because he stabbed him, either. I needed Merry's voice. If he had not called to me just then, I was so terrified and dismayed, I might have let the Dwimmerlaik kill me. But he needed my help, so I struck. And I think if I had not fainted, I too would have been crying and shaking for a long time."
"So are we cowards? Is it because we're women?" I noticed suddenly that we were sitting motionless in the middle of the Road, and set my horse to walking once more. Eowyn shook herself and followed suit.
"I don't know. My people don't sob when they slay, they sing."
"I've seen Rangers cry, but it's usually after a bad battle, not during. Although nothing we did in Ithilien was as bad as this." I turned my horse to the right, and left the road. "Since I don't have any answers, I might as well do what I've come to do. Be careful through here-watch for holes." We rode in silence for a long time after that, till I'd delivered my message and recieved a reply. It was not till we'd ridden past the spot on the way back to the City that Eowyn spoke again.
"You've spent much time with the Steward this last week. Will you not speak with him after all?"
"No, lady. For nothing has changed. My situation has not, nor light in his eyes when he speaks of you. Perhaps if his brother, Lord Boromir had lived and become the Steward, I might have spoken. For then he would not have been the sole hope of his house. But nothing has truly changed. What of you? How are you disposed towards him? I know that he was glad to see you when he was sworn in. It was good of you to come."
"I was surprised not to see you there."
"I was not invited. He commanded me to appear at the Citadel at a certain time, and by the time I did so, the deed was done."
"I'm sorry."
"He said later that it was not a happy occaision for him, so he felt he didn't need his friends there. He didn't stop to think that perhaps his friends would want to be there to support him, happy occaision or not."
"It was very upsetting to him. To take his father's ring, after where it had been."
"I hadn't even thought of that."
"In the end, he overcame his discomforture. But it was a bad moment, I think."
I gave her a sidelong look. "You know, he's really only a soldier because he has to be. You need to understand that about him. We talked once, back when we thought we were all doomed, and I asked him what he'd do if we won the war. The first thing he said was, 'I'd lay my sword down as soon as I could.' The second was that he'd catch up on his reading." Eowyn laughed.
"That does sound like him. I do miss our talks. He is a dear friend. And he knows so much about so many things."
"I know your people value valor in battle above all other things, and I don't mean this in a bad way, but I think that if you are a person who hates war, but your country needs you to be a commander, and you become a really good one in spite of how you feel, then you're braver than the fellow who likes a good fight."
"You might be right about that," she said thoughtfully. We were passing back through the Gate, and I asked her "Are you hungry? There's a tavern up on fifth that has pretty good stew. And decent beer, too."
She perked up immediately. "Beer, did you say? Oh, I should love to have some beer! They won't let me have it in the Houses."
"Well! No wonder you've been so wilted! By all means, let's go water the fair flower of Rohan with some beer!"
So I took her to the Red Dog, and we sat at a corner table in semi-darkness, she with her hood up-- "on account of an ear-ache" I told the tavern wench, which garnered Eowyn much sympathy--and we had the pretty good stew, and the decent beer. We talked some more. And I made the mistake of trying to match Eowyn drink for drink, and as a consequence was more than a little tipsy before we were through, while she seemed relatively unaffected.
"So--is this stuff mother's milk to you, or what?" I growled at her when she started giggling at my incapacity.
"Pretty much," she admitted. "I was stealing drinks when I was but a little girl. All the children did."
"Great." I uttered some of Mablung's favorite Rohirric curses, and her eyes widened.
"I did not know you spoke my tongue!"
I hiccuped. "Only the bad words. What did that mean anyway?" She told me with a straight face, though her lips were twitching, and I blanched.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to be quite that vile." She laughed.
"Actually, your accent is very good! But your head for beer is not! I think we'd better be going back. It's possible," and here her voice got very dry, "that I might be missed."
I looked out the window, and saw that dark had fallen. "Oh no! I think you're right!" Hurriedly, I paid our bill, and we went out and mounted up. Eowyn waited until I had mounted successfully first, and I glared at her.
"I'm not that bad off." She merely raised an eyebrow, and set off.
As we approached the Houses of Healing, we could hear a woman calling Eowyn's name in the garden, and there was a City Guard patrolling the street.
"Let me handle this." I hissed at Eowyn, and she nodded. Throwing back my cloak so he could see my insignia and livery, I hailed him.
"What's going on sergeant?" He wasn't one, of course, but he looked quite pleased to be mistaken as such.
"Captain, the Lady of Rohan seems to have wandered off. The Warden is frantic. If we can't find her soon, he'll have to explain to the Steward what happened." Eowyn and I looked at each other.
"He hasn't said anything to the Steward yet, has he?"
"No, Captain."
"Well, sergeant, I'm sure she hasn't wandered far. She's pretty feeble by all accounts." That earned me a sharp poke in my broken ribs. I coughed.
"I'll tell you what. I owe the Warden for his care of me when I was injured, so though my lieutenant and I are off duty, why don't we cover this street for you, so you can search a little farther out. More efficient, don't you think?"
"Why thank you, Captain, that's very kind of you."
"After all, we don't want to upset the Steward with this business, him so new to the job and all. Let's find her in a hurry, that's the ticket."
"Yes, Captain. And thank you!" He saluted, and set off for the next street. When I was sure he was gone, I turned to Eowyn.
"Your window's around the front here somewhere, isn't it?"
"Yes. Facing east, remember?"
"Well, which one is it?" The House was set on a high foundation, so she could not get into the window from the street on foot, but from horseback it was accessible.
"This one, I think......no, not this one. There--that one." She had ridden up close to the wall of the House and peered within the windows in question. "There's the dratted needlework, and my clothes. Have you a dagger with you?" I handed mine across to her, and watched approvingly as she jimmied the latch.
"One might almost think you'd done this sort of thing before." She turned to look back at me, and her teeth flashed whitely in a grin. The window swung open.
"Hold his head for me." I grabbed her horse's bridle, holding him still as possible as she ever so carefully stood up on the saddle and swung her leg over the sill. Unfortunately, she lost her balance upon landing, and fell back down into the room. I heard some of the same curses I'd uttered earlier repeated back at me.
"Are you all right?" I hissed.
"Yes, I'm fine," she growled in a low voice. Banged my arm a little, that's all. Get out of here! And thanks for everything!"
"You're welcome, lady." And I got myself out of there before I could be discovered.
In my somewhat inebriated condition, it took a little while to deal with the two horses, but I was careful and cautious and saw to them myself. I returned the cloak and tabard to my room (I'd give the cloak back to Lorend later), and finally went to Faramir's office to leave the message. I hoped it hadn't been anything particularly urgent. And I hoped that he wasn't there. I had always been a most obedient little soldier, so I was no good at dissembling.
Unfortunately, he was still there, with a mug of tea, the remains of what looked to be supper, and a pile of paperwork. I decided that brazening it out was the best course of action.
"Your message has been delivered, my lord. And here is the reply." He took it from me, laid it gently upon the desk, and began rubbing his steward's ring.
"And not before time. Well, you were right about one thing, Heth--you took it slow."
"Ah well, you know, with the ribs and all--to tell the truth, my lord, I just needed an afternoon off!" Perhaps admitting to a lesser crime would be the way to go.
"And took it, from the smell of things. How drunk are you exactly?"
"A little. Slightly. All right, more than a bit, maybe." He gave me his full attention, look-through-the-front-of-your-head-and-out-the-back, grey captain's stare.
"I expect this sort of thing from Lorend, or many of the other men. I don't expect it from you."
"I know exactly what it is my lord expects from me." The bitterness in that statement surprised us both, and I took a deep breath and endeavored to take better control of myself.
"Then I need reprimand you no further." He looked a little puzzled, and not uncompassionate. I could tell he thought this episode a reaction to the stresses of the war. And, in truth, it was.
"There is, however, the matter of why you needed to take two horses to fulfill your errand." At my surprised look, he said, "Do you think I do not care for my people? When you did not return, I was worried you'd fallen or became ill, so I sent down to the stable and they gave me your time of departure, and that you'd taken two horses. Isn't there something else you'd like to tell me, Hethlin?"
I sighed, and resolved to becom a better liar in the near future.
"I snuck the Lady Eowyn out of the Houses of Healing for a ride. She came with me while I delivered the message, and then we went to a tavern afterwards. It was dark before I snuck her back in."
He sighed, and rested his face in his hands for a moment. "What is this fascination with the act of abduction that seems to have come over the Company lately? I simply can't fathom it." Lifting his head, he said, "That was ill-done of you, Heth. The Lady is still ill, and the Warden must have been frantic."
"He was in no hurry to tell you about it, that's for sure," I snorted. "But as for Eowyn being ill, she's less hurt than I was, and you had no problem with sending me out today! She practically wept, she was so happy to see someone who wasn't those old biddies at the House! By the way, you need to tell Lorend to stop staring at her so much when he delivers your messages--she doesn't like it. Or let me take them for you."
"I don't see how I can trust you to deliver them."
"Look, she wasn't hurt! She had a good time! It would do her good to get out more! Take her riding, my lord--if you have to go about the City, take her with you. You want her company, and she just wants out of the prison you and the Warden have put her in."
"Prison! I think that's doing it up a little too strongly, Heth." He was twisting that dratted ring now--a sign I was coming to realize meant he was genuinely upset. "I don't see that it's your place to second guess the Warden in matters of his craft. If he says she's still ill, she's still ill. And she had better not have taken any harm from this escapade of yours! Or you will see that I treat you just as a man in all respects--including military discipline!"
I leaned over the desk, resting on my hands. "Then you'd best brig me now, for I am certainly drunk on duty! The Warden is going to keep her in cotton wool for as long as he can, for he's terrified Eomer will spit him with a spear if his sister's health is less than perfect. But she's all right, Captain. If she were one of your men, you'd have her back on light duty already."
"The Lady of Rohan is not one of my men!"
"You'd get a whole lot farther with her if you treated her as such!" We glared at each other for a moment, breathing hard. I let my head drop.
"Captain, think about it. She never had a mother, she never had any women raising her. She grew up around men of war, and tried to be like them from an early age. She is a warrior, not one of your court ladies." I raised it again, and looked at him pleadingly.
"If you treat her like a court lady, you speak to her in a language she doesn't understand. And if you don't speak plainly to her, you offend her. She thinks we Gondorrim are all mush-mouths--except of course, for me." He snorted at that, and I sighed wearily.
"But you are, of course, a great lord, and know your own business best. You hardly need me to tell you how to conduct yourself, or do your courting for you, and I have no intention of doing so--that's above and beyond the call of duty! I will say that, were I a man, I could have her betrothed to me in two weeks' time, for she is much like me, and I understand her. And I will further say that you have always been blind where women are concerned, unable to see what is clearly in front of you." I suddenly realized that I was on the verge of losing control completely, could feel tears glittering in my eyes. I could see his expression cycle through offense to concern, and knew that if I didn't want it reaching comprehension, I needed to leave. Right now. So I turned suddenly, and fled, pausing only long enough to call back, "I'll be in my rooms sleeping it off if you decide you need to arrest me, Lord!"
"Heth!" I heard him call, but I was already gone.
I went back to my room, threw myself upon my bed, and had a beery tear fest, till sleep started to overcome me, whereupon I pulled my boots off, dragged a blanket over myself, and started to drift off to sleep with no further ado. I was dozing finally when he came to the door, and knocked, and softly called my name. It woke me up, but I did nothing, merely lay awake in the dark with red, swollen eyes until he went away again.
By the time Lorend and I reported to the Citadel the next morning, Faramir had been sworn in as Steward, with only Lord Hurin, the Marshal of the Riders and the Lady Eowyn in attendance. I own I was a bit hurt that I hadn't been invited, but I didn't tell him that. He was trying to learn the job of Steward in a time of crisis, with many matters to attend to and all seemingly of equal urgency, he was still not completely healed, and the continual reminders of his father's presence, in the form of much unfinished business, perpetually unnerved him.
We worked far into the night most days, and over time, a certain distribution of responsibility took place. Lorend, with his bad leg, was easier in the saddle than I was with my broken ribs, so he became Faramir's aide in the field and general errand boy, while I remained in the Steward's office, organizing scrolls and paperwork, taking down the names and business of petitioners, and occaisionally intimidating people who had the idea that their business was more important than it actually was, and access to the Steward imperative. Much to my surprise, and a bit to my dismay, people in the Citadel were somewhat frightened of me. My unusual hair, the scar on my face, and the fact that I talked to giant eagles all combined to make me an uncanny creature, and I could hardly countenance some of the stories that were circulating about me.
Lorend found it all hilarious, but Faramir, sensing my discomfort, made an effort to suppress the most outrageous rumors. Those days were something of a sweet torment for me, for I spent most of my waking hours in his company, more even than in Ithilien, for there I had shared him with two hundred Rangers, and now it was just the three of us. I had always been sensitive to his moods and wishes; here, I enjoyed a certain success anticipating his wants and needs, and received much approbation in return. The looks of surprised pleasure, the jokes, the friendly squeeze of my hand or shoulder--these I saved up in memory, against the day when he would return again to Eowyn. For he had no time for her now, was hard-pressed to do much more than send her the occaisional note. Lorend and I had been moved into rooms in the Citadel itself, down the hall but a little way from the one we'd stayed in with Mablung that memorable night, though we seldom saw our beds. We were too busy to be moving back and forth to the Houses of Healing, and in truth no longer needed to be there anyway. Any leechcraft we still required could be dealt with in a visit.
I did feel sorry for Eowyn, left behind in the House with naught but the hobbit Meriadoc for company. Merry was her friend, and a sweet soul, but I was sure that there were things she could not speak of to him. We had much in common, she and I, Faramir being not the least, but I could not imagine her unburdening herself to the ladies who assisted in the House. Indeed, she seemed to find them a necessary evil, even as I would have, to be tolerated but not cultivated. And Faramir, whether she loved him or not, was nothing if not a good conversationalist, who could talk knowledgeably about a broad range of topics. What she was doing to fill her days right now, I had no idea. But I suspected it wasn't needlework.
A week into Faramir's reign as Steward, he had a message he wanted delivered to the engineer overseeing the restoration of the Pelennor. The weather, which had been warmly sunny up to now, had turned grey, cold and windy, with the occaisional spit of rain. Lorend was unenthused about the errand, and I volunteered in his place.
"For I've not been out of this building for a week, and if I don't get some fresh air soon, some of those stories they're telling about me are going to start coming true!"
"You mean the ones where you eat babies, or feed them to eagles?" asked Lorend with relish. "Or the ones about you lurking in the deepest regions of the Citadel and drinking hapless victims' blood or the--
"That will be quite enough, Lieutenant." Faramir quelled him with a severe look, then gave me an apologetic one.
"I'm sorry, Heth, I hadn't even been thinking about it, but you're right, you have been rather penned up here. Take the errand, if you wish it--are your ribs sound enough to ride?"
"If I take it slow." I assured him. "Write your message." He did so, and sealed it with the silver ring that had been his father's, and I took it and bowed, and left. I was almost out the door when a thought hit me, and I returned to my room and grabbed a spare tabard, then to Lorend's room to borrow his cloak. At the courier stables, I had them saddle a second horse while I attended to my own, then I mounted mine and led the other out of the courtyard.
The Houses of Healing were within easy walking distance, and a short time later, I was tethering the two horses to a post in front of the door, and slipping inside. I knew where Eowyn's room was, and no one questioned my presence there--Lorend had delivered Faramir's messages to her often enough. A tired sounding "Enter" answered my knock on the door.
I stuck my head in and found the Lady of Rohan sitting by the fire and doing.....needlework?
"Somehow, I didn't picture you as the embroidery type," I said. Her look of sorrowful boredom changed to something resembling pleased surprise.
"Captain Hethlin! Bring you a message from the Steward? Excellent! I would much prefer that you deliver them. That other fellow he always sends ogles me so."
"Lorend? He's my lieutenant, so I give you permission to smite him. Repeatedly if necessary, and it probably will be." I came into the room and over to her, and looked down upon her handiwork.
"Nice bird."
She frowned down at it. "It's supposed to be a flower."
"Oh. Sorry." I looked at it more closely for a moment. "Yes, I think I can safely say that you're another one who'll never be allowed near Mablung's neck."
"I beg your pardon?" So I told her the tale of Mablung's neck, and certain comments Faramir had made about my sewing ability over the years, and she laughed and looked happier.
Eventually, she asked me my reason for being there.
"I've got to deliver a message down on the Pelennor, and I thought you might like to come with me. I've got two horses waiting outside."
"I rather doubt that a ride on the Pelennor on a day like this is part of the Warden's plan to hasten my recovery," she said bitterly.
"I wasn't planning on consulting the Warden," I replied, looking her straight in the eye. "Here." And I threw her the cloak and the tabard. Her blue eyes began to gleam. "If you want to come, get changed, and we'll do your hair up under the cloak." I didn't need to ask her twice. I stood with my back to her, watching the fire politely while she changed, and didn't turn till she asked, "Could you help me with this?" 'This' was her hair, which she couldn't braid with her injured arm, so I stood behind her, clumsily braided it, and tied it with a ribbon she provided..
"My goodness, there's an awful lot of it."
"Did you never wear your hair long?"
"Not after I joined the Rangers. Too much trouble. And I was trying to pass for a lad. Here, just let it hang down your back, and we'll hide it with the cloak. And keep your hood up. If people find out who you are, you'll be getting all sorts of attention you might not want. You're a great hero in the City."
"Will you get in trouble because of this?"
"Oh, most likely. But I've been a very good girl for a very long time. And I was so tired of being cooped up in the Citadel that all I could think of when I got out was that you'd been cooped up here even longer."
"That is very kind of you, Hethlin."
"Maybe it is. I'm certainly not acting in my own best interest here! I just get irritated with the way they treat you sometimes. I know how I'd feel if they treated me that way."
"Indeed. I am still puzzled as to why they do not. Treat you that way, I mean."
"Surely it's obvious. I'm no use to them as a broodmare, so if I'm killed in battle, 'tis no great loss. That, lady, is the price of the freedom you crave."
"Oh, Hethlin."
"Well, enough of that! Here, walk you beside me. We go out fast, and like we have urgent business." She did as I bade her, and we made it out the door without incident. She tipped her head up to the sky for a moment and sniffed the air, then looked at the horse somewhat critically.
"He's not much."
"Neither of them are. But I can't handle a feisty war stallion right now, and if you say that you can, with a half-healed broken arm and after sitting on your arse all this time, I'll call you a liar to your face." Her laugh rang out loudly on the quiet street, as she saw to her girth and stirrups.
"You must come with my brother and me when we return to Edoras! You would be very popular in Rohan."
"Are you saying I should have been born blonde?" I asked, swinging up into the saddle.
"I'm saying you're too honest and straightforward to be a good Gondorrim, and besides, our horses are better!"
"No argument there, milady--though the Prince of Dol Amroth has some nice beasts."
"Only because his family has been importing horses from us for generations," she replied smugly.
"Well, if I'm allowed, perhaps I will travel with you. I would dearly love to see your herds."
Eowyn finally mounted her horse, and we set off slowly through the streets. I gave her a running description of the restoration projects she saw going on around her, for after a week of intensive study, my knowledge of the City was far greater than it had been. She was obviously uncomfortably in the echoing stone avenues.
"This place is so much bigger than Edoras. There are so many people!"
"Before the War, fully a third of the City was uninhabited. I imagine that that will change soon, when the King returns. Before long, there won't be an empty window in the place." I realized after a moment that I had put my foot in my mouth. "Sorry about mentioning the King, my lady."
"Oh no, Hethlin, it's quite all right. You may talk as you please! I am so grateful to be out of those walls! But I must say, you are certainly an adaptable person! You've been a farmer's daughter, and a Ranger, and now you're a clerk. What will you be next?"
"A Ranger captain, hopefully! If not that, then maybe a King's courier. And after that, maybe eventually, a horse breeder."
"Hmmmmm. Well then, perhaps your kindness to me is in your own best interest after all!" I started to make an indignant denial, then looked at her, saw that she was grinning at me, and laughed myself.
"Perhaps it is!" We passed out of the Gate at this moment, and proceeded down the Causeway Road.
"If you want to go any faster, now's the time," I told Eowyn, "But keep to the Road to do it--there's all sorts of holes and things everywhere else." She nodded, and urged her horse into a canter. I matched her pace. Neither of us lasted very long, and by mutual agreement, we slowed to a walk once more. I looked about the section of the Road we were now on, and shivered.
"Is something the matter?" she inquired, a concerned look on her face.
"Oh, it....it's nothing...." I made a vague wave towards my cheek. "It's just that this is about the place where we made our last stand." She nodded understandingly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No....not really....I just....." I rode on a little way further before I turned to her.
"You have to understand that by the time we got up here, we'd been fighting with almost no rest for two days." She nodded again, as the words began to spill from me.
"We thought we were home free. I could see it in his eyes. It was the first time we'd been close together in the fight. He told me we'd charge them once more, maybe twice. Then all these orcs and Southrons came boiling up right out of nowhere, and we knew we were doomed. I saw his face change, and it made my blood run cold. To make matters worse, the Nazgul were on us as well." It was Eowyn's turn to shiver.
"We sent the foot on, to try to save as many as we could. He started fighting this Haradrim captain, and when he fell, I was desperate to keep him from being trampled, so I tried to engage the man and got trounced for my pains. I wasn't good enough to beat him in a fair fight, so I grabbed his arm and let him land a blow on me, hoping he wouldn't kill me, and that I would have enough strength to finish him. That's where my ribs got broken. And I managed to do it, but I don't remember anything much after that but standing over Faramir, and slashing at anything that came my way. And I was crying the whole time, I just couldn't stop. I kept crying even after Dol Amroth rescued us, and after I stopped crying, I shook for another hour after that. So I guess I wasn't very brave about it."
"I cried too," Eowyn reminisced softly. "He was so very tall, and so very horrible, I couldn't look at him." I made a soft sound of agreement .
"Do you know, I think if Merry hadn't been there, I wouldn't have been able to do it? And not because he stabbed him, either. I needed Merry's voice. If he had not called to me just then, I was so terrified and dismayed, I might have let the Dwimmerlaik kill me. But he needed my help, so I struck. And I think if I had not fainted, I too would have been crying and shaking for a long time."
"So are we cowards? Is it because we're women?" I noticed suddenly that we were sitting motionless in the middle of the Road, and set my horse to walking once more. Eowyn shook herself and followed suit.
"I don't know. My people don't sob when they slay, they sing."
"I've seen Rangers cry, but it's usually after a bad battle, not during. Although nothing we did in Ithilien was as bad as this." I turned my horse to the right, and left the road. "Since I don't have any answers, I might as well do what I've come to do. Be careful through here-watch for holes." We rode in silence for a long time after that, till I'd delivered my message and recieved a reply. It was not till we'd ridden past the spot on the way back to the City that Eowyn spoke again.
"You've spent much time with the Steward this last week. Will you not speak with him after all?"
"No, lady. For nothing has changed. My situation has not, nor light in his eyes when he speaks of you. Perhaps if his brother, Lord Boromir had lived and become the Steward, I might have spoken. For then he would not have been the sole hope of his house. But nothing has truly changed. What of you? How are you disposed towards him? I know that he was glad to see you when he was sworn in. It was good of you to come."
"I was surprised not to see you there."
"I was not invited. He commanded me to appear at the Citadel at a certain time, and by the time I did so, the deed was done."
"I'm sorry."
"He said later that it was not a happy occaision for him, so he felt he didn't need his friends there. He didn't stop to think that perhaps his friends would want to be there to support him, happy occaision or not."
"It was very upsetting to him. To take his father's ring, after where it had been."
"I hadn't even thought of that."
"In the end, he overcame his discomforture. But it was a bad moment, I think."
I gave her a sidelong look. "You know, he's really only a soldier because he has to be. You need to understand that about him. We talked once, back when we thought we were all doomed, and I asked him what he'd do if we won the war. The first thing he said was, 'I'd lay my sword down as soon as I could.' The second was that he'd catch up on his reading." Eowyn laughed.
"That does sound like him. I do miss our talks. He is a dear friend. And he knows so much about so many things."
"I know your people value valor in battle above all other things, and I don't mean this in a bad way, but I think that if you are a person who hates war, but your country needs you to be a commander, and you become a really good one in spite of how you feel, then you're braver than the fellow who likes a good fight."
"You might be right about that," she said thoughtfully. We were passing back through the Gate, and I asked her "Are you hungry? There's a tavern up on fifth that has pretty good stew. And decent beer, too."
She perked up immediately. "Beer, did you say? Oh, I should love to have some beer! They won't let me have it in the Houses."
"Well! No wonder you've been so wilted! By all means, let's go water the fair flower of Rohan with some beer!"
So I took her to the Red Dog, and we sat at a corner table in semi-darkness, she with her hood up-- "on account of an ear-ache" I told the tavern wench, which garnered Eowyn much sympathy--and we had the pretty good stew, and the decent beer. We talked some more. And I made the mistake of trying to match Eowyn drink for drink, and as a consequence was more than a little tipsy before we were through, while she seemed relatively unaffected.
"So--is this stuff mother's milk to you, or what?" I growled at her when she started giggling at my incapacity.
"Pretty much," she admitted. "I was stealing drinks when I was but a little girl. All the children did."
"Great." I uttered some of Mablung's favorite Rohirric curses, and her eyes widened.
"I did not know you spoke my tongue!"
I hiccuped. "Only the bad words. What did that mean anyway?" She told me with a straight face, though her lips were twitching, and I blanched.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to be quite that vile." She laughed.
"Actually, your accent is very good! But your head for beer is not! I think we'd better be going back. It's possible," and here her voice got very dry, "that I might be missed."
I looked out the window, and saw that dark had fallen. "Oh no! I think you're right!" Hurriedly, I paid our bill, and we went out and mounted up. Eowyn waited until I had mounted successfully first, and I glared at her.
"I'm not that bad off." She merely raised an eyebrow, and set off.
As we approached the Houses of Healing, we could hear a woman calling Eowyn's name in the garden, and there was a City Guard patrolling the street.
"Let me handle this." I hissed at Eowyn, and she nodded. Throwing back my cloak so he could see my insignia and livery, I hailed him.
"What's going on sergeant?" He wasn't one, of course, but he looked quite pleased to be mistaken as such.
"Captain, the Lady of Rohan seems to have wandered off. The Warden is frantic. If we can't find her soon, he'll have to explain to the Steward what happened." Eowyn and I looked at each other.
"He hasn't said anything to the Steward yet, has he?"
"No, Captain."
"Well, sergeant, I'm sure she hasn't wandered far. She's pretty feeble by all accounts." That earned me a sharp poke in my broken ribs. I coughed.
"I'll tell you what. I owe the Warden for his care of me when I was injured, so though my lieutenant and I are off duty, why don't we cover this street for you, so you can search a little farther out. More efficient, don't you think?"
"Why thank you, Captain, that's very kind of you."
"After all, we don't want to upset the Steward with this business, him so new to the job and all. Let's find her in a hurry, that's the ticket."
"Yes, Captain. And thank you!" He saluted, and set off for the next street. When I was sure he was gone, I turned to Eowyn.
"Your window's around the front here somewhere, isn't it?"
"Yes. Facing east, remember?"
"Well, which one is it?" The House was set on a high foundation, so she could not get into the window from the street on foot, but from horseback it was accessible.
"This one, I think......no, not this one. There--that one." She had ridden up close to the wall of the House and peered within the windows in question. "There's the dratted needlework, and my clothes. Have you a dagger with you?" I handed mine across to her, and watched approvingly as she jimmied the latch.
"One might almost think you'd done this sort of thing before." She turned to look back at me, and her teeth flashed whitely in a grin. The window swung open.
"Hold his head for me." I grabbed her horse's bridle, holding him still as possible as she ever so carefully stood up on the saddle and swung her leg over the sill. Unfortunately, she lost her balance upon landing, and fell back down into the room. I heard some of the same curses I'd uttered earlier repeated back at me.
"Are you all right?" I hissed.
"Yes, I'm fine," she growled in a low voice. Banged my arm a little, that's all. Get out of here! And thanks for everything!"
"You're welcome, lady." And I got myself out of there before I could be discovered.
In my somewhat inebriated condition, it took a little while to deal with the two horses, but I was careful and cautious and saw to them myself. I returned the cloak and tabard to my room (I'd give the cloak back to Lorend later), and finally went to Faramir's office to leave the message. I hoped it hadn't been anything particularly urgent. And I hoped that he wasn't there. I had always been a most obedient little soldier, so I was no good at dissembling.
Unfortunately, he was still there, with a mug of tea, the remains of what looked to be supper, and a pile of paperwork. I decided that brazening it out was the best course of action.
"Your message has been delivered, my lord. And here is the reply." He took it from me, laid it gently upon the desk, and began rubbing his steward's ring.
"And not before time. Well, you were right about one thing, Heth--you took it slow."
"Ah well, you know, with the ribs and all--to tell the truth, my lord, I just needed an afternoon off!" Perhaps admitting to a lesser crime would be the way to go.
"And took it, from the smell of things. How drunk are you exactly?"
"A little. Slightly. All right, more than a bit, maybe." He gave me his full attention, look-through-the-front-of-your-head-and-out-the-back, grey captain's stare.
"I expect this sort of thing from Lorend, or many of the other men. I don't expect it from you."
"I know exactly what it is my lord expects from me." The bitterness in that statement surprised us both, and I took a deep breath and endeavored to take better control of myself.
"Then I need reprimand you no further." He looked a little puzzled, and not uncompassionate. I could tell he thought this episode a reaction to the stresses of the war. And, in truth, it was.
"There is, however, the matter of why you needed to take two horses to fulfill your errand." At my surprised look, he said, "Do you think I do not care for my people? When you did not return, I was worried you'd fallen or became ill, so I sent down to the stable and they gave me your time of departure, and that you'd taken two horses. Isn't there something else you'd like to tell me, Hethlin?"
I sighed, and resolved to becom a better liar in the near future.
"I snuck the Lady Eowyn out of the Houses of Healing for a ride. She came with me while I delivered the message, and then we went to a tavern afterwards. It was dark before I snuck her back in."
He sighed, and rested his face in his hands for a moment. "What is this fascination with the act of abduction that seems to have come over the Company lately? I simply can't fathom it." Lifting his head, he said, "That was ill-done of you, Heth. The Lady is still ill, and the Warden must have been frantic."
"He was in no hurry to tell you about it, that's for sure," I snorted. "But as for Eowyn being ill, she's less hurt than I was, and you had no problem with sending me out today! She practically wept, she was so happy to see someone who wasn't those old biddies at the House! By the way, you need to tell Lorend to stop staring at her so much when he delivers your messages--she doesn't like it. Or let me take them for you."
"I don't see how I can trust you to deliver them."
"Look, she wasn't hurt! She had a good time! It would do her good to get out more! Take her riding, my lord--if you have to go about the City, take her with you. You want her company, and she just wants out of the prison you and the Warden have put her in."
"Prison! I think that's doing it up a little too strongly, Heth." He was twisting that dratted ring now--a sign I was coming to realize meant he was genuinely upset. "I don't see that it's your place to second guess the Warden in matters of his craft. If he says she's still ill, she's still ill. And she had better not have taken any harm from this escapade of yours! Or you will see that I treat you just as a man in all respects--including military discipline!"
I leaned over the desk, resting on my hands. "Then you'd best brig me now, for I am certainly drunk on duty! The Warden is going to keep her in cotton wool for as long as he can, for he's terrified Eomer will spit him with a spear if his sister's health is less than perfect. But she's all right, Captain. If she were one of your men, you'd have her back on light duty already."
"The Lady of Rohan is not one of my men!"
"You'd get a whole lot farther with her if you treated her as such!" We glared at each other for a moment, breathing hard. I let my head drop.
"Captain, think about it. She never had a mother, she never had any women raising her. She grew up around men of war, and tried to be like them from an early age. She is a warrior, not one of your court ladies." I raised it again, and looked at him pleadingly.
"If you treat her like a court lady, you speak to her in a language she doesn't understand. And if you don't speak plainly to her, you offend her. She thinks we Gondorrim are all mush-mouths--except of course, for me." He snorted at that, and I sighed wearily.
"But you are, of course, a great lord, and know your own business best. You hardly need me to tell you how to conduct yourself, or do your courting for you, and I have no intention of doing so--that's above and beyond the call of duty! I will say that, were I a man, I could have her betrothed to me in two weeks' time, for she is much like me, and I understand her. And I will further say that you have always been blind where women are concerned, unable to see what is clearly in front of you." I suddenly realized that I was on the verge of losing control completely, could feel tears glittering in my eyes. I could see his expression cycle through offense to concern, and knew that if I didn't want it reaching comprehension, I needed to leave. Right now. So I turned suddenly, and fled, pausing only long enough to call back, "I'll be in my rooms sleeping it off if you decide you need to arrest me, Lord!"
"Heth!" I heard him call, but I was already gone.
I went back to my room, threw myself upon my bed, and had a beery tear fest, till sleep started to overcome me, whereupon I pulled my boots off, dragged a blanket over myself, and started to drift off to sleep with no further ado. I was dozing finally when he came to the door, and knocked, and softly called my name. It woke me up, but I did nothing, merely lay awake in the dark with red, swollen eyes until he went away again.