Thanks to Dwimordene, for allowing me to borrow her poet. Though the twins do not figure into this chapter particularly, I am dedicating it to Sir Alex Black and Cheshire, another pair of twins who have been faithful readers.
Still much troubled in my mind, I went next door to the Prince's chamber that evening when he returned from dinner, that I might be sure he required nothing before he retired. Though I had come to realize that he was not comfortable with me serving him in the more personal capacity that was normal for an esquire--for instance, he would not allow me to help him dress or bathe-- he had no problem sending my two good legs off on errands to fetch things that he needed.
I found him sitting in one of the intricately carved wooden chairs by his table upon which stood a lamp and a tankard of ale, reading a book. His jerkin had been set aside in the summer heat, and he wore a clean shirt open at the throat and rolled up at the sleeves. His legs were propped upon a low footstool and crossed at the ankle, and he looked very comfortable.
He smiled gently when I knocked and stuck my head in the door.
"Ah, Hethlin, come to wish me a good night?"
"I thought I would see if you needed anything before you retired, my lord."
"I was wondering if you would come to see me this evening. I'm glad you did. Why don't you refill my tankard, and get one for yourself? The pitcher is on the side table over there." I stepped into the room, found the pitcher of ale where he had said it was, and filled an extra tankard I'd found there with it. He indicated a chair I could pull up next to his, and I did so, and seated myself, looking curiously at the book, for I knew the tally of what he'd brought with him by heart, and there had been no books in it. He followed my glance, and smiled.
"It appears that Eomer's grandfather Thengel and I share similar literary tastes. Thengel or Eomer's grandmother Morwen of Lossarnach. Did you know we are kin from afar, Eomer and Eowyn and I?" Surprised, I shook my head. He closed the book and set it gently on the table. "Well, we are. Morwen's people were originally from Belfalas. It is a more distant connection than yours with the King, but it exists nonetheless."
"Oh. I had no idea." I took a sip of the ale, and pondered that for a moment. It was unlikely that the Prince would appreciate hearing anything other than praise about a young woman who was about to become related to him twice over. Staring rather blindly into the fireplace, where logs were laid but no fire kindled, I could feel the weight of the Prince's regard.
"Hethlin," he asked quietly, "is something troubling you?" I swigged down a big gulp of the ale.
"Nay, my lord. What was it you were reading?" He leaned a little further back in his chair, and steepled his fingers.
"Poetry. Love poetry, if you must know the truth of it."
"Really? I wouldn't have thought you interested in such things, from what you told me before." He smiled.
"About being past all that?" I nodded. "I can still appreciate poetry, Hethlin. You might enjoy this yourself, given your Northern background. Silvariel of Arnor. I have this same book at home in Dol Amroth. My wife enjoyed it." He gave me a sideways, twinkling look. "I would imagine Elrohir can quote you whole passages." I made a little snorting noise, and began to turn pink. He chuckled, then sobered again, and leaned forward earnestly.
"Seriously, Hethlin, something is bothering you. I noticed your absence at dinner. Will you not tell me what it is? I may be able to help you, and surely you know that it will not go any further." I gave him a pointed look.
"It won't go any further if I make you swear not to tell anyone, you mean. Otherwise, you will talk to someone if you deem it advisable." He winced.
"I suppose I do deserve that. Though I thought we had come to an understanding about the picnic. Very well, then--I promise I will not speak to anyone else about what you tell me here tonight. Will that suffice?" I nodded, took another swallow of ale, and after a moment's hesitation, began.
"Did you know that Eowyn had been left in charge of things here, and that she rode to Minas Tirith anyway?" He nodded, comprehension dawning in his face.
"Yes, I did. Aragorn and I spoke of it at length upon one occasion. But you did not, I take it. Did you just discover this today?"
"Aye. We had ridden out together to look at the horses, and I asked her why some of the people here seemed unhappy with her. She told me, and I ......I don't think I answered in the way she hoped I would. I think I was supposed to say I understood, and not judge her, since I am her friend, and that is not what happened. We didn't fight, exactly, but she knows I am disappointed in her, and it's made things a bit.....cold between us."
"Ah, I see." Imrahil's expression grew thoughtful. "What exactly is it you want to ask me?" I leaned forward, elbows on knees, and sipped my drink again.
"'Tis said you are the most honorable man in Gondor. What do you think about what she did?" He sat back again.
"Hmmmmmm. Well, the first thing I will say to you is that you have been a soldier long enough to know that you always have the option of disobeying an order. You always have the option with the understanding that, if you do so, you had better have a very good reason--such as being privy to information the officer who issued the order did not possess. Or you had better produce such a favorable outcome that there can be no argument you did the right thing. Because otherwise, your career, and possibly your life, will be over. You can end up a hero, or reviled and despised--there is no middle ground."
"Is that what you think she did? Produced a favorable outcome?"
"Well, there was the prophecy about the Witch-King, the one that said that it would take a woman to kill him. While I have no doubt that had you been on your feet, you could have dealt with him yourself," I snorted at this and he smiled, "the fact of the matter is that you were not. There are those who would argue that she was a tool of destiny, and had no choice but to act as she did. I prefer to think that we are responsible for our own choices, and destiny has no place in such things, but I could be wrong." He took a deep drink from his own tankard, and continued.
"Did she win the day by killing the Witch King? I personally do not think so. Mithrandir turned him back from the Gate, and Aragorn was the one who turned the tide of the battle itself by arriving with the coastal levies. But she did help--there is no doubt the forces of Mordor might have been more steadfast had he not perished. From fear of him, if nothing else. And by her hand, a great evil was ended, that had endured through two ages of the world. So yes, I am reluctantly forced to conclude that the outcome was favorable enough that she cannot be faulted her disobedience." I sighed quietly.
"I see. Thank you, sir." I made to rise, and he gestured that I sit once more.
"I am not saying that I condone what she did, Hethlin, by any means. She was given a position of great responsibility, and she deserted her post."
"She said she got everyone safely to Dunharrow, and left a good commander in charge. She said that as the King had left her in full command, she had the right to ask another to rule Dunharrow while she rode forth." Imrahil's eyebrow cocked.
"That is a valid argument. And by that same argument, the man she'd left could have put someone in charge, and he someone else, and so forth and so on, till the second assistant stable boy was governing Rohan." His voice grew tart of a sudden. "The Lady Eowyn is royal, and she knows all too well that royalty can seldom serve its own wishes, or at least that it should not. The luxury in which we live is paid for by service to our people, above and beyond our own desires." He sipped his ale once more, and his fingers played over the tankard's surface almost absently.
"On the other hand, Eowyn had in truth endured much anguish and torment of the mind in her uncle's house. That Theoden's infirmity was a product of Saruman's sorcery, and no fault of his own is quite possible--however, once he had been cured, the King still seemed oblivious to her plight. And Eomer was not much better--though he knew that Grima Wormtongue had been stalking her for years, he nonetheless charged Aragorn with being the source of her despair." The Prince shook his head and sighed.
"I now believe that Eowyn's passion for Aragorn was nothing more than a misplaced expression of her desire to escape. And I can understand her anger and desperation when the very men who had failed for most of her life to protect her suddenly decided to do so just when the opportunity to do great deeds presented itself. The first thing you will learn as a commander, Hethlin, is to never give an order you know will not be obeyed. Had Theoden or Eomer truly been listening to her, they would have known that she would be forsworn ere they left Edoras." I sat back in my own chair and frowned.
"So what you're saying is, she had a good reason for doing what she did."
"No, what I am saying is that she thought she did."
"What should I do now?"
"I will not tell you what you should do. I will tell you what you can do--you can decide not to associate with someone who has besmirched her honor in such a way, tell Faramir that you think his bride is unworthy--"
"--She said she told Faramir, and he said it didn't matter!" I broke in, hotly. The look of sudden comprehension returned to the Prince's face.
"Ah, I think we come to the heart of the matter now. How did you feel when she told you that?"
"I was angry, at her and at Faramir as well. How dare he say it didn't matter? He used to be so particular about such things! I can tell you that he certainly would not have been so gentle with me, had I done such a thing!"
"No, he would not have," the Prince replied promptly, "But then, he would have judged you as a soldier, and Eowyn he judged as the woman he loves. You have gone to a great deal of trouble to convince Faramir, myself and the King that you wish to be judged as a soldier. Is that not the case any longer? I am not saying it is wrong of you to change your mind, but if you have done so, I wish you would tell me before I invest a great deal of effort in training you at Dol Amroth." I stared at him for a moment in confusion. He set his tankard on the table, leaned forward and took my hands in his.
"Let me see if I can help you with this much, at least. The real problem here is that you and Eowyn both want what the other has. You want Faramir to love you as a woman and wife, and she still, I think, desires respect as a warrior from men. Neither of you will ever get all that you desire--Faramir is ever only going to be your friend, and Eowyn, though she has won renown, will never command men in the field. And I am sure that one day you will, no matter what the King said about Ithilien." I looked at him, startled, and he smiled and nodded.
"Eowyn is already coming to realize this and to make her peace with it. I would be very surprised if she picks up a sword for any purpose other than exercise ever again. If you can do the same, I think you can work past your differences and become good friends. You have too many interests in common, and I am not speaking only of Faramir." I couldn't help but smile a little at that.
"You said you would tell me what I could do, not what I should do," I reminded him.
"That is true. And as I said earlier, you could shun her as a deserter or oathbreaker, or whatever you would like to call her. Or," and here he smiled rather sadly at me, "you could bear in mind that almost everybody makes at least one very bad decision for what they feel are good reasons during the course of their lifetime. And that the day could come when Hethlin of Anorien might do just that, and be thankful that her friends do not judge her harshly. You could continue to be friends with Eowyn, in a place where I fear she will not have many friends."
"That is going to be difficult. I like her, but I think she did the wrong thing."
"The right thing to do is usually the most difficult," the Prince observed. I sighed.
"So my father always said."
"Obviously a man of wisdom and discernment," Imrahil declared. I twitched a small smile at him, then furrowed my brow, which made the Eagle mark twinge a tiny bit..
"But I am disappointed in her. And in Faramir. I've never been disappointed in him before. I don't like the way it feels." To my surprise, the Prince actually chuckled, which was hardly the reaction I had expected.
"Hethlin, you know I love my nephew like a son. He is a good man, and it is even fair to say he is a great man. But he is not a perfect man. When I first met you, he was your Captain, your hero, your idol. You are growing up now, and perhaps beginning at last to see him a little more clearly. And that is not a bad thing."
"It may not be a bad thing, but it's certainly a sad one," I said--then slowly, after a moment's hard thought--"I would wish, I think.....for someone who would treat me as you said your wife treated you. About her making you a better person. To be held to account for what I did, and made to mend it, if possible. Not to be patted upon the head and told, 'There, there, dear, it doesn't matter.' I would want to marry a man who would expect great things of me." With a start, I suddenly realized that for the first time, I had spoken of the possibility of marrying a man other than Faramir. The Prince's eyes glinted in the light of the lamp.
"You have high standards, Hethlin. I hope that you find such a man one day." A tremor ran through the hands holding mine, and I looked at him with concern, but he spoke calmly enough.
"'Tis nothing. Fear not. Merely an indication that it is past my bedtime. You saw what happened the other night--when I've reached my limit, I start to shake. Embarrassing, but useful in a way. The only good thing about it is that it is taking me longer each day to reach this point."
"I am sorry, my lord," I said apologetically. "I should not have kept you up, dithering about my troubles." He smiled wryly.
"I can only think of one occasion when I have seen you do something that could be called dithering, Hethlin. But if you are truly feeling the need to apologize, then help me with my boots. I can manage the rest." So I pulled his boots, then moved quickly to the bed to turn the coverlet back and plump the pillows like a good esquire. He stood up, braced himself on the chair for a moment, then started for the bed. Halfway there, he stumbled, but I had almost expected that, so I was able to turn and catch him, and with an arm about his waist, help him to the bed. When I had seated him, I knelt to unbutton his breeches at the knees so I could roll his stockings down. His voice sounded tersely above my head.
"Hethlin, I told you I could manage this." I could feel the trembling in his legs as I removed the stockings.
"With all due respect, my lord, I don't think you can. Would you like me to help you with your breeches?"
"Absolutely not! Lord Elrond will be in presently--I'll get him to help, if it becomes necessary." I looked up at him quizzically.
"You are aware, sir, aren't you, that I've already seen......everything you have to offer?"
"I don't know when you could have!" the Prince protested. "I was always very careful to have Elladan and Elrohir bathe and care for me at such times. Even when I was very sick." He drew his legs up hurriedly, if a bit shakily, tucked them under the covers, and settled back against his pillows. I stood and smiled and pulled up the coverlet.
"My lord prince, that last night in Fangorn, when you were so sick and coughing up blood, and then had that fit, and passed out afterwards--we all of us stripped you to the skin to clean you up. We were not worried about the proprieties, we were trying to save your life, and make you comfortable. It was at that time I first saw you unclothed. And I helped Lord Elrond undress you the other night." Imrahil groaned, and I chuckled.
"It's quite all right, sir--I fought with the Rangers for four years, remember? And though Faramir and the others were careful, there were times when I saw....things...by accident. I'm not the sort who's going to faint if I walk around a tree at the wrong moment and spy someone's.....lance." The Prince covered his eyes with a shaking hand, and I noticed that his color had deepened perceptibly.
"Hethlin, I don't think I want to have this conversation just now."
"I'm sorry sir, but you might want to think about it some time soon. I am your esquire, sworn to you. Don't you have several personal esquires?"
"Yes, Hethlin."
"And don't they take turns caring for you? From what I saw amongst the Rohirrim, King Eomer's do."
"Yes. When I am at home, or at Minas Tirith, or in the field, there is a rotation among them of the various duties I require," the Prince admitted with a sigh, lowering his hand from his face and surrendering to my desire to converse.
"And isn't one of those duties to attend you in the bedchamber?"
"Yes, it is."
"Well, what are you going to do about that? You won't let me serve you in a personal way. Am I to be given different duties from the other esquires entirely? Or am I to skip that part when it's my turn, and have someone else do double duty? Is that fair to them?"
"No, it's not entirely fair, but it would not be appropriate for you to provide such services for me," said the Prince, his face still a little flushed against the stark white of the pillow. "There are other things you can do when it would be your turn. I think the other esquires will understand."
"And I think it's a little late to be worrying about appearances, my lord. For over a month now, I have been the only esquire traveling with you. Do you not think the other esquires will believe I've been taking care of all of your needs during this time?" He stared at me, startled realization upon his face.
"Valar, Hethlin, I had not even considered that! You were right to bring this to my attention--I will think upon what might be best to do." I nodded, and moved to the door, and despite the fact that I was still upset over the day's events, an imp of mischief danced in my mind suddenly.
"Of course, I will abide by whatever you decide, my lord. Though I am concerned about one more thing."
"And that is?" asked the Prince, drawing the coverlet higher. I smiled sweetly.
"You have a reputation as a man who speaks the truth. That reputation is going to be harmed if you continue to talk about how you no longer feel the stirrings of passion--in the face of evidence to the contrary."
"HETHLIN!" he exclaimed in horror. I slipped through the door that connected our two rooms as swiftly as possible, chuckling as I went.
It had seemed extremely clever at the time. But by the time I was in my room, it no longer seemed quite so humorous, and as I moved towards the fireplace to light the lamp, I was berating myself for my impertinence. After all, the Prince had never been aught but courteous and kind to me.
There was a tall shadow in my darkened room, that turned to the door as it opened in a movement graceful as falling water, showing the silvery glint of grey eyes in a pale face.
"As you have a proper room with proper walls, and a proper bed, I thought you might not mind some company this evening, Snowsteel," Elrohir purred.
"With only a door between us and the Prince?" I said. "I'm not sure I could, Elrohir." He simply smiled, and waved his finger in the air.
"I can make it so that he will not hear a thing," he assured me. "I will tell him Father sent me tonight, as he did Arwen the other evening."
"That's the other thing," I protested, "Your father is going to be up here any moment to look in on him."
"Well, there you have it--Father will no doubt take care of the matter. We have only to wait." No sooner had he spoken thus, when there came a murmur of voices from the other room. We could hear them rise and fall for a short time, then silence fell. A knock sounded on the door between my room and the Prince's. I jumped.
"Who is it?"
"Lady Hethlin, are you well? We did not see you at dinner tonight." It was indeed Elrohir's father. I blanched.
"I am well, Lord Elrond. It was not my intention to worry you." It was not my intention to bring myself to his attention at all. "I was not much in the mood for company this evening, that is all." There was a moment's silence, and I saw Elrohir frown slightly.
"You seem to have overcome your aversion to company, since my son is with you now," came the voice dryly through the door. I winced.
"Aye, my lord, he is."
"The Prince is asleep, and should rest peacefully until the morning--if that is of concern to you." Blushing with embarrassment and annoyance, even though he could not see me, I strove to keep my voice level and polite.
"It is, my lord, and I thank you once again for your care of him." Another moment's silence.
"Very well then. Good evening to you, Lady Hethlin. Elrohir."
"Good night, Father," said Elrohir, speaking for the first time in a very neutral tone of voice. There was a sound of receding movement behind the door, then silence. He turned to me, and I felt the touch of his mind on mine. "What has happened today? I can feel that you are upset, and not just about my father. Are you well?" I opened my mouth to tell him what happened, then decided to save some time.
"Look for yourself." He reviewed my memories of the events of the afternoon, and gave me a sympathetic look.
"I am sorry that you are at odds with Eowyn. I know her friendship means much to you."
"You do not care for her. You never pass up a chance to speak ill of her to me."
"It is true that she is a bit too nervous and erratic for my taste. But I know that you care for her, and I will endeavor to think and speak better of her in the future for your sake. Though she has angered me with her actions this day. When one asks for the truth, one had better be prepared to accept it." Then his mind brushed over my conversation with the Prince, as I blushed furiously. He grinned and laughed liltingly when he was done.
Oh, but you were a bad, wicked girl, Snowsteel!" he said gleefully. "I am so pleased and proud! I have corrupted you at last, it seems!"
"The poor Prince!" I groaned. "He did not deserve that from me. I owe him service and respect!"
"Have you ever considered that he might appreciate it if you were not so quite respectful?" Elrohir asked with that wicked gleam in his eyes. "As you said, the evidence was there." I gave him an offended look.
"He is my liege lord!"
"Perhaps he would like to be your love lord?" Elrohir suggested. I snorted.
"Oh, stop that!" Elrohir's expression became suddenly, satirically hopeful..
"Are you perchance still feeling wicked, Snowsteel? Because I would be glad to have you help me with my breeches. I too am a truthful person, and I tell you now, I definitely feel the stirrings of passion--look, I have the evidence right here......."
I stopped his mouth with my own, feeling that to be the quickest and most effective method of dealing with the situation.
The next morning I went to see the Prince, intending to apologize. I tried to time my visit so that he was already dressed, and was in fact successful in that, and found him eating breakfast at the little table in his room. I bowed ever so respectfully, and he gave me a brief nod of acknowledgment before addressing himself to his eggs once more. He looked weary, as if he had not slept well, and was in one of his more severe humors. Despite that, I decided that nothing would be gained by putting things off, and I cleared my throat.
"My lord, I came to apologize for last night. My remark was impertinent, and impolite, and crude. I was brought up better than that, truly I was. It will not happen again." He cocked an eyebrow at me, as his knife cut the eggs into neat, bite-sized pieces.
"That is good to know, Hethlin. I realize that what we have been through of late has created an air of brotherhood and familiarity, but that really was a little too personal." I nodded, my face flushing with shame.
"I know that sir, and I am very sorry." Imrahil nodded, forked up a piece of egg, chewed it reflectively for a moment, then swallowed.
"Here is how we will do things in the future," he declared calmly. "You will never mention my......evidence...as you called it, again, and in turn, I will never speak of that morning on the way to Lothlorien, when the Lady Eowyn absolutely soaked your shirt. A rather chilly morning, now that I think upon it." I had to stop for a moment, to try to figure out what exactly he was talking about, and when the meaning finally sank in, my face reddened from the pink it already was, to rose, and finally to dark, dark red.
"Very well, sir," I stammered, and he gave me one of his bland looks.
"Good. Will there be anything else?" When I shook my head, the bland look vanished, and the Prince suddenly smiled in a way I'd never seen him smile before; head slightly tilted, a wicked twinkle to his eyes, and a roguish cant to his mouth. In that one moment, he looked every bit as wicked as Elrohir, as young as his nephew and in truth, rather piratical. The next, he was his usual royally civil self again. Staring at him dumbfounded, I almost missed the little, customary, dismissive wave of his hand.
"Go get your breakfast, child," he said with an air of long-suffering patience. I did as I was told.
Still much troubled in my mind, I went next door to the Prince's chamber that evening when he returned from dinner, that I might be sure he required nothing before he retired. Though I had come to realize that he was not comfortable with me serving him in the more personal capacity that was normal for an esquire--for instance, he would not allow me to help him dress or bathe-- he had no problem sending my two good legs off on errands to fetch things that he needed.
I found him sitting in one of the intricately carved wooden chairs by his table upon which stood a lamp and a tankard of ale, reading a book. His jerkin had been set aside in the summer heat, and he wore a clean shirt open at the throat and rolled up at the sleeves. His legs were propped upon a low footstool and crossed at the ankle, and he looked very comfortable.
He smiled gently when I knocked and stuck my head in the door.
"Ah, Hethlin, come to wish me a good night?"
"I thought I would see if you needed anything before you retired, my lord."
"I was wondering if you would come to see me this evening. I'm glad you did. Why don't you refill my tankard, and get one for yourself? The pitcher is on the side table over there." I stepped into the room, found the pitcher of ale where he had said it was, and filled an extra tankard I'd found there with it. He indicated a chair I could pull up next to his, and I did so, and seated myself, looking curiously at the book, for I knew the tally of what he'd brought with him by heart, and there had been no books in it. He followed my glance, and smiled.
"It appears that Eomer's grandfather Thengel and I share similar literary tastes. Thengel or Eomer's grandmother Morwen of Lossarnach. Did you know we are kin from afar, Eomer and Eowyn and I?" Surprised, I shook my head. He closed the book and set it gently on the table. "Well, we are. Morwen's people were originally from Belfalas. It is a more distant connection than yours with the King, but it exists nonetheless."
"Oh. I had no idea." I took a sip of the ale, and pondered that for a moment. It was unlikely that the Prince would appreciate hearing anything other than praise about a young woman who was about to become related to him twice over. Staring rather blindly into the fireplace, where logs were laid but no fire kindled, I could feel the weight of the Prince's regard.
"Hethlin," he asked quietly, "is something troubling you?" I swigged down a big gulp of the ale.
"Nay, my lord. What was it you were reading?" He leaned a little further back in his chair, and steepled his fingers.
"Poetry. Love poetry, if you must know the truth of it."
"Really? I wouldn't have thought you interested in such things, from what you told me before." He smiled.
"About being past all that?" I nodded. "I can still appreciate poetry, Hethlin. You might enjoy this yourself, given your Northern background. Silvariel of Arnor. I have this same book at home in Dol Amroth. My wife enjoyed it." He gave me a sideways, twinkling look. "I would imagine Elrohir can quote you whole passages." I made a little snorting noise, and began to turn pink. He chuckled, then sobered again, and leaned forward earnestly.
"Seriously, Hethlin, something is bothering you. I noticed your absence at dinner. Will you not tell me what it is? I may be able to help you, and surely you know that it will not go any further." I gave him a pointed look.
"It won't go any further if I make you swear not to tell anyone, you mean. Otherwise, you will talk to someone if you deem it advisable." He winced.
"I suppose I do deserve that. Though I thought we had come to an understanding about the picnic. Very well, then--I promise I will not speak to anyone else about what you tell me here tonight. Will that suffice?" I nodded, took another swallow of ale, and after a moment's hesitation, began.
"Did you know that Eowyn had been left in charge of things here, and that she rode to Minas Tirith anyway?" He nodded, comprehension dawning in his face.
"Yes, I did. Aragorn and I spoke of it at length upon one occasion. But you did not, I take it. Did you just discover this today?"
"Aye. We had ridden out together to look at the horses, and I asked her why some of the people here seemed unhappy with her. She told me, and I ......I don't think I answered in the way she hoped I would. I think I was supposed to say I understood, and not judge her, since I am her friend, and that is not what happened. We didn't fight, exactly, but she knows I am disappointed in her, and it's made things a bit.....cold between us."
"Ah, I see." Imrahil's expression grew thoughtful. "What exactly is it you want to ask me?" I leaned forward, elbows on knees, and sipped my drink again.
"'Tis said you are the most honorable man in Gondor. What do you think about what she did?" He sat back again.
"Hmmmmmm. Well, the first thing I will say to you is that you have been a soldier long enough to know that you always have the option of disobeying an order. You always have the option with the understanding that, if you do so, you had better have a very good reason--such as being privy to information the officer who issued the order did not possess. Or you had better produce such a favorable outcome that there can be no argument you did the right thing. Because otherwise, your career, and possibly your life, will be over. You can end up a hero, or reviled and despised--there is no middle ground."
"Is that what you think she did? Produced a favorable outcome?"
"Well, there was the prophecy about the Witch-King, the one that said that it would take a woman to kill him. While I have no doubt that had you been on your feet, you could have dealt with him yourself," I snorted at this and he smiled, "the fact of the matter is that you were not. There are those who would argue that she was a tool of destiny, and had no choice but to act as she did. I prefer to think that we are responsible for our own choices, and destiny has no place in such things, but I could be wrong." He took a deep drink from his own tankard, and continued.
"Did she win the day by killing the Witch King? I personally do not think so. Mithrandir turned him back from the Gate, and Aragorn was the one who turned the tide of the battle itself by arriving with the coastal levies. But she did help--there is no doubt the forces of Mordor might have been more steadfast had he not perished. From fear of him, if nothing else. And by her hand, a great evil was ended, that had endured through two ages of the world. So yes, I am reluctantly forced to conclude that the outcome was favorable enough that she cannot be faulted her disobedience." I sighed quietly.
"I see. Thank you, sir." I made to rise, and he gestured that I sit once more.
"I am not saying that I condone what she did, Hethlin, by any means. She was given a position of great responsibility, and she deserted her post."
"She said she got everyone safely to Dunharrow, and left a good commander in charge. She said that as the King had left her in full command, she had the right to ask another to rule Dunharrow while she rode forth." Imrahil's eyebrow cocked.
"That is a valid argument. And by that same argument, the man she'd left could have put someone in charge, and he someone else, and so forth and so on, till the second assistant stable boy was governing Rohan." His voice grew tart of a sudden. "The Lady Eowyn is royal, and she knows all too well that royalty can seldom serve its own wishes, or at least that it should not. The luxury in which we live is paid for by service to our people, above and beyond our own desires." He sipped his ale once more, and his fingers played over the tankard's surface almost absently.
"On the other hand, Eowyn had in truth endured much anguish and torment of the mind in her uncle's house. That Theoden's infirmity was a product of Saruman's sorcery, and no fault of his own is quite possible--however, once he had been cured, the King still seemed oblivious to her plight. And Eomer was not much better--though he knew that Grima Wormtongue had been stalking her for years, he nonetheless charged Aragorn with being the source of her despair." The Prince shook his head and sighed.
"I now believe that Eowyn's passion for Aragorn was nothing more than a misplaced expression of her desire to escape. And I can understand her anger and desperation when the very men who had failed for most of her life to protect her suddenly decided to do so just when the opportunity to do great deeds presented itself. The first thing you will learn as a commander, Hethlin, is to never give an order you know will not be obeyed. Had Theoden or Eomer truly been listening to her, they would have known that she would be forsworn ere they left Edoras." I sat back in my own chair and frowned.
"So what you're saying is, she had a good reason for doing what she did."
"No, what I am saying is that she thought she did."
"What should I do now?"
"I will not tell you what you should do. I will tell you what you can do--you can decide not to associate with someone who has besmirched her honor in such a way, tell Faramir that you think his bride is unworthy--"
"--She said she told Faramir, and he said it didn't matter!" I broke in, hotly. The look of sudden comprehension returned to the Prince's face.
"Ah, I think we come to the heart of the matter now. How did you feel when she told you that?"
"I was angry, at her and at Faramir as well. How dare he say it didn't matter? He used to be so particular about such things! I can tell you that he certainly would not have been so gentle with me, had I done such a thing!"
"No, he would not have," the Prince replied promptly, "But then, he would have judged you as a soldier, and Eowyn he judged as the woman he loves. You have gone to a great deal of trouble to convince Faramir, myself and the King that you wish to be judged as a soldier. Is that not the case any longer? I am not saying it is wrong of you to change your mind, but if you have done so, I wish you would tell me before I invest a great deal of effort in training you at Dol Amroth." I stared at him for a moment in confusion. He set his tankard on the table, leaned forward and took my hands in his.
"Let me see if I can help you with this much, at least. The real problem here is that you and Eowyn both want what the other has. You want Faramir to love you as a woman and wife, and she still, I think, desires respect as a warrior from men. Neither of you will ever get all that you desire--Faramir is ever only going to be your friend, and Eowyn, though she has won renown, will never command men in the field. And I am sure that one day you will, no matter what the King said about Ithilien." I looked at him, startled, and he smiled and nodded.
"Eowyn is already coming to realize this and to make her peace with it. I would be very surprised if she picks up a sword for any purpose other than exercise ever again. If you can do the same, I think you can work past your differences and become good friends. You have too many interests in common, and I am not speaking only of Faramir." I couldn't help but smile a little at that.
"You said you would tell me what I could do, not what I should do," I reminded him.
"That is true. And as I said earlier, you could shun her as a deserter or oathbreaker, or whatever you would like to call her. Or," and here he smiled rather sadly at me, "you could bear in mind that almost everybody makes at least one very bad decision for what they feel are good reasons during the course of their lifetime. And that the day could come when Hethlin of Anorien might do just that, and be thankful that her friends do not judge her harshly. You could continue to be friends with Eowyn, in a place where I fear she will not have many friends."
"That is going to be difficult. I like her, but I think she did the wrong thing."
"The right thing to do is usually the most difficult," the Prince observed. I sighed.
"So my father always said."
"Obviously a man of wisdom and discernment," Imrahil declared. I twitched a small smile at him, then furrowed my brow, which made the Eagle mark twinge a tiny bit..
"But I am disappointed in her. And in Faramir. I've never been disappointed in him before. I don't like the way it feels." To my surprise, the Prince actually chuckled, which was hardly the reaction I had expected.
"Hethlin, you know I love my nephew like a son. He is a good man, and it is even fair to say he is a great man. But he is not a perfect man. When I first met you, he was your Captain, your hero, your idol. You are growing up now, and perhaps beginning at last to see him a little more clearly. And that is not a bad thing."
"It may not be a bad thing, but it's certainly a sad one," I said--then slowly, after a moment's hard thought--"I would wish, I think.....for someone who would treat me as you said your wife treated you. About her making you a better person. To be held to account for what I did, and made to mend it, if possible. Not to be patted upon the head and told, 'There, there, dear, it doesn't matter.' I would want to marry a man who would expect great things of me." With a start, I suddenly realized that for the first time, I had spoken of the possibility of marrying a man other than Faramir. The Prince's eyes glinted in the light of the lamp.
"You have high standards, Hethlin. I hope that you find such a man one day." A tremor ran through the hands holding mine, and I looked at him with concern, but he spoke calmly enough.
"'Tis nothing. Fear not. Merely an indication that it is past my bedtime. You saw what happened the other night--when I've reached my limit, I start to shake. Embarrassing, but useful in a way. The only good thing about it is that it is taking me longer each day to reach this point."
"I am sorry, my lord," I said apologetically. "I should not have kept you up, dithering about my troubles." He smiled wryly.
"I can only think of one occasion when I have seen you do something that could be called dithering, Hethlin. But if you are truly feeling the need to apologize, then help me with my boots. I can manage the rest." So I pulled his boots, then moved quickly to the bed to turn the coverlet back and plump the pillows like a good esquire. He stood up, braced himself on the chair for a moment, then started for the bed. Halfway there, he stumbled, but I had almost expected that, so I was able to turn and catch him, and with an arm about his waist, help him to the bed. When I had seated him, I knelt to unbutton his breeches at the knees so I could roll his stockings down. His voice sounded tersely above my head.
"Hethlin, I told you I could manage this." I could feel the trembling in his legs as I removed the stockings.
"With all due respect, my lord, I don't think you can. Would you like me to help you with your breeches?"
"Absolutely not! Lord Elrond will be in presently--I'll get him to help, if it becomes necessary." I looked up at him quizzically.
"You are aware, sir, aren't you, that I've already seen......everything you have to offer?"
"I don't know when you could have!" the Prince protested. "I was always very careful to have Elladan and Elrohir bathe and care for me at such times. Even when I was very sick." He drew his legs up hurriedly, if a bit shakily, tucked them under the covers, and settled back against his pillows. I stood and smiled and pulled up the coverlet.
"My lord prince, that last night in Fangorn, when you were so sick and coughing up blood, and then had that fit, and passed out afterwards--we all of us stripped you to the skin to clean you up. We were not worried about the proprieties, we were trying to save your life, and make you comfortable. It was at that time I first saw you unclothed. And I helped Lord Elrond undress you the other night." Imrahil groaned, and I chuckled.
"It's quite all right, sir--I fought with the Rangers for four years, remember? And though Faramir and the others were careful, there were times when I saw....things...by accident. I'm not the sort who's going to faint if I walk around a tree at the wrong moment and spy someone's.....lance." The Prince covered his eyes with a shaking hand, and I noticed that his color had deepened perceptibly.
"Hethlin, I don't think I want to have this conversation just now."
"I'm sorry sir, but you might want to think about it some time soon. I am your esquire, sworn to you. Don't you have several personal esquires?"
"Yes, Hethlin."
"And don't they take turns caring for you? From what I saw amongst the Rohirrim, King Eomer's do."
"Yes. When I am at home, or at Minas Tirith, or in the field, there is a rotation among them of the various duties I require," the Prince admitted with a sigh, lowering his hand from his face and surrendering to my desire to converse.
"And isn't one of those duties to attend you in the bedchamber?"
"Yes, it is."
"Well, what are you going to do about that? You won't let me serve you in a personal way. Am I to be given different duties from the other esquires entirely? Or am I to skip that part when it's my turn, and have someone else do double duty? Is that fair to them?"
"No, it's not entirely fair, but it would not be appropriate for you to provide such services for me," said the Prince, his face still a little flushed against the stark white of the pillow. "There are other things you can do when it would be your turn. I think the other esquires will understand."
"And I think it's a little late to be worrying about appearances, my lord. For over a month now, I have been the only esquire traveling with you. Do you not think the other esquires will believe I've been taking care of all of your needs during this time?" He stared at me, startled realization upon his face.
"Valar, Hethlin, I had not even considered that! You were right to bring this to my attention--I will think upon what might be best to do." I nodded, and moved to the door, and despite the fact that I was still upset over the day's events, an imp of mischief danced in my mind suddenly.
"Of course, I will abide by whatever you decide, my lord. Though I am concerned about one more thing."
"And that is?" asked the Prince, drawing the coverlet higher. I smiled sweetly.
"You have a reputation as a man who speaks the truth. That reputation is going to be harmed if you continue to talk about how you no longer feel the stirrings of passion--in the face of evidence to the contrary."
"HETHLIN!" he exclaimed in horror. I slipped through the door that connected our two rooms as swiftly as possible, chuckling as I went.
It had seemed extremely clever at the time. But by the time I was in my room, it no longer seemed quite so humorous, and as I moved towards the fireplace to light the lamp, I was berating myself for my impertinence. After all, the Prince had never been aught but courteous and kind to me.
There was a tall shadow in my darkened room, that turned to the door as it opened in a movement graceful as falling water, showing the silvery glint of grey eyes in a pale face.
"As you have a proper room with proper walls, and a proper bed, I thought you might not mind some company this evening, Snowsteel," Elrohir purred.
"With only a door between us and the Prince?" I said. "I'm not sure I could, Elrohir." He simply smiled, and waved his finger in the air.
"I can make it so that he will not hear a thing," he assured me. "I will tell him Father sent me tonight, as he did Arwen the other evening."
"That's the other thing," I protested, "Your father is going to be up here any moment to look in on him."
"Well, there you have it--Father will no doubt take care of the matter. We have only to wait." No sooner had he spoken thus, when there came a murmur of voices from the other room. We could hear them rise and fall for a short time, then silence fell. A knock sounded on the door between my room and the Prince's. I jumped.
"Who is it?"
"Lady Hethlin, are you well? We did not see you at dinner tonight." It was indeed Elrohir's father. I blanched.
"I am well, Lord Elrond. It was not my intention to worry you." It was not my intention to bring myself to his attention at all. "I was not much in the mood for company this evening, that is all." There was a moment's silence, and I saw Elrohir frown slightly.
"You seem to have overcome your aversion to company, since my son is with you now," came the voice dryly through the door. I winced.
"Aye, my lord, he is."
"The Prince is asleep, and should rest peacefully until the morning--if that is of concern to you." Blushing with embarrassment and annoyance, even though he could not see me, I strove to keep my voice level and polite.
"It is, my lord, and I thank you once again for your care of him." Another moment's silence.
"Very well then. Good evening to you, Lady Hethlin. Elrohir."
"Good night, Father," said Elrohir, speaking for the first time in a very neutral tone of voice. There was a sound of receding movement behind the door, then silence. He turned to me, and I felt the touch of his mind on mine. "What has happened today? I can feel that you are upset, and not just about my father. Are you well?" I opened my mouth to tell him what happened, then decided to save some time.
"Look for yourself." He reviewed my memories of the events of the afternoon, and gave me a sympathetic look.
"I am sorry that you are at odds with Eowyn. I know her friendship means much to you."
"You do not care for her. You never pass up a chance to speak ill of her to me."
"It is true that she is a bit too nervous and erratic for my taste. But I know that you care for her, and I will endeavor to think and speak better of her in the future for your sake. Though she has angered me with her actions this day. When one asks for the truth, one had better be prepared to accept it." Then his mind brushed over my conversation with the Prince, as I blushed furiously. He grinned and laughed liltingly when he was done.
Oh, but you were a bad, wicked girl, Snowsteel!" he said gleefully. "I am so pleased and proud! I have corrupted you at last, it seems!"
"The poor Prince!" I groaned. "He did not deserve that from me. I owe him service and respect!"
"Have you ever considered that he might appreciate it if you were not so quite respectful?" Elrohir asked with that wicked gleam in his eyes. "As you said, the evidence was there." I gave him an offended look.
"He is my liege lord!"
"Perhaps he would like to be your love lord?" Elrohir suggested. I snorted.
"Oh, stop that!" Elrohir's expression became suddenly, satirically hopeful..
"Are you perchance still feeling wicked, Snowsteel? Because I would be glad to have you help me with my breeches. I too am a truthful person, and I tell you now, I definitely feel the stirrings of passion--look, I have the evidence right here......."
I stopped his mouth with my own, feeling that to be the quickest and most effective method of dealing with the situation.
The next morning I went to see the Prince, intending to apologize. I tried to time my visit so that he was already dressed, and was in fact successful in that, and found him eating breakfast at the little table in his room. I bowed ever so respectfully, and he gave me a brief nod of acknowledgment before addressing himself to his eggs once more. He looked weary, as if he had not slept well, and was in one of his more severe humors. Despite that, I decided that nothing would be gained by putting things off, and I cleared my throat.
"My lord, I came to apologize for last night. My remark was impertinent, and impolite, and crude. I was brought up better than that, truly I was. It will not happen again." He cocked an eyebrow at me, as his knife cut the eggs into neat, bite-sized pieces.
"That is good to know, Hethlin. I realize that what we have been through of late has created an air of brotherhood and familiarity, but that really was a little too personal." I nodded, my face flushing with shame.
"I know that sir, and I am very sorry." Imrahil nodded, forked up a piece of egg, chewed it reflectively for a moment, then swallowed.
"Here is how we will do things in the future," he declared calmly. "You will never mention my......evidence...as you called it, again, and in turn, I will never speak of that morning on the way to Lothlorien, when the Lady Eowyn absolutely soaked your shirt. A rather chilly morning, now that I think upon it." I had to stop for a moment, to try to figure out what exactly he was talking about, and when the meaning finally sank in, my face reddened from the pink it already was, to rose, and finally to dark, dark red.
"Very well, sir," I stammered, and he gave me one of his bland looks.
"Good. Will there be anything else?" When I shook my head, the bland look vanished, and the Prince suddenly smiled in a way I'd never seen him smile before; head slightly tilted, a wicked twinkle to his eyes, and a roguish cant to his mouth. In that one moment, he looked every bit as wicked as Elrohir, as young as his nephew and in truth, rather piratical. The next, he was his usual royally civil self again. Staring at him dumbfounded, I almost missed the little, customary, dismissive wave of his hand.
"Go get your breakfast, child," he said with an air of long-suffering patience. I did as I was told.