New chapter! Known as 'In which the King-of-many-names tries to figure out what in Middle Earth is going on'.
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King Aragorn Elessar Telcontor, the Elfstone, Thorongil, Estel, whichever one you chose, was leaving the Tower of Ecthelion to retire for the evening. Unfortunately, fate had another plan.
Aragorn sighed in frustration as the door opened to reveal the door warden. "Whatever it is will have to wait until tomorrow, I am going home to my wife and son."
"Forgive me, my lord, but a messenger from Emyn Arnen has just arrived."
"Is it an emergency?" The King frowned, concerned.
The guard hesitated. "My lord, he says it is not, yet he seems greatly agitated and has ridden his horse hard."
Aragorn's frown deepened. "Send him in.
The messenger knelt before his king and handed him a letter bearing the seal of the Lady of Ithilien. "Your highness, a message from the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen."
"Thank you." Breaking the seal, Aragorn read:
To Elessar Envinyatar, King of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor
The Prince and Lady of Ithilien respectfully and humbly request the presence of His Highness the King at our city in the Land of the Moon. We wish the King to see the continuing, yet not fully complete, healing of the Jewel of the West, a healing that Envinyatar may be of mind to help with.
As always, sincerely your servants:
The Prince Faramir and Lady Éowyn
The letter left Aragorn confused. The handwriting must have been Éowyn's for he was familiar with Faramir's. This in itself wasn't confusing, but only Éowyn's signature appeared underneath the names and it was her seal as well. Then, the wording was vague and somewhat unusual. //It looks like they are asking for help with the healing of Ithilien, but why would she ask in such a way? And is Jewel of the West a new name for Ithilien, for I have never heard that before?//
Aragorn looked down from his throne to the Ithilien messenger who stood waiting before him. "Is all well in Emyn Arnen?"
The messenger grew grave. "I…do not know, my lord." He seemed unsure of what to say, but Aragorn nodded for him to continue. "The land is healing, we had a good harvest, and everyone is ready for winter. However," he paused, "However, a darkness seems to have fallen over the city. We do not know what or why, but everyone has felt an evil chill in the air that does not come from the weather. The Lady Éowyn, when she handed me the letter, seemed paler as well, and Captain Beregond seemed grim."
"And Steward Faramir?"
"He was not there."
Aragorn sat back in the throne. //Does Faramir even know Éowyn sent the message? And why would she call me Envinyatar 'Renewer', the least used of my names? "Healing of the Jewel of the West." Jewel of the West. Jewel.// When realization dawned on him, the King felt like hitting his head against a wall. Faramir was the 'jewel' she spoke of for '-mir' meant jewel in elvish. Éowyn was asking for his help as a healer because Faramir was probably sick. This actually troubled Aragorn for Éowyn was obviously keeping the illness from the people, and their own healers who were some of the best in the land seemed to be unable to help. Not to mention that the proud Lady was asking for help in the first place.
The king turned his attention back on the messenger. "Rest while you can. I will return with you to Emyn Arnen at first light tomorrow."
Dawn came soon and Aragorn bid farewell to his wife and baby son. Year-old Eldarion grabbed at his father's ear, a game he loved to play, always squealing in delight when the king wiggled his ears. Kissing Eldarion's small head, Aragorn looked at Arwen. "I wish you were coming, my love."
Arwen smiled as she bounced her squirming child on her hip. "I know, but if it is as you believe and Faramir is sick, then we cannot risk Eldarion getting whatever it is." She gently kissed him. "Fare well, love."
~*~
It took three days for Aragorn, his guard, and the messenger to reach the city of Emyn Arnen. As they rode through the streets up to the Steward's House, Aragorn couldn't help but think that the small city reminded him of Rivendell where he grew up. Nestled in the midst of the tall hills of the same name, surrounded by streams and waterfall, Emyn Arnen looked peaceful and beautiful against the rising sun. Aragorn knew that it would look even more elegant under the light of the stars and the moon. Yet even the beauty could not mask the dark feeling in the air around them, like some hidden evil was wrapping itself around their throats and trying to choke the life out of them.
Aragorn noticed how, though his guards and even he himself seemed tense, almost sickened to the core, the messenger and the people they passed appeared unaware, maybe used to the darkness. //Something is definitely wrong here, and I do not think it is just Faramir's sickness.//
After releasing the messenger to return to his home, Aragorn and his guards stabled their horses and walked up to the Steward's House. They entered into the foyer, empty except for a little boy, a child of one of the servants, who instantly bee-lined out of the room the moment he saw the royal standard carried by one of the guards. "This is a warm welcome," laughed the king, yet it concerned him nonetheless. He turned to the head of his guard. "Captain, spread your men out to find the Steward or his wife. I will search on my own." Used to his king's Ranger attitude, the Captain just nodded and obeyed. Dressed not in royal clothing, but plain attire, Aragorn headed to the one place where the people heard everything and knew all that went on in the House. The servant's quarters.
He was halfway there when the sound of a woman crying reached his ears. Silently entering the nearby room, a pantry, Aragorn found a younger woman sitting on a barrel and holding an empty jar. "Milady?" She didn't notice him. "Milady, are you alright?"
The woman looked up at him, thinking he was a fellow servant. "Of course I'm not a'right! The air's dark, the Lady's worried 'bout the Steward for 'e's not sleeping well, the King 'imself is coming anytime now, and …and we're out of pickles eggs!" She held the jar up and burst into a new set of tears.
Aragorn awkwardly patted her shoulder and handed her his handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully. "Do not worry, milady. The king is coming to see if he can help the Steward and deal with the darkness." He smiled reassuringly. "And the king does not like pickled eggs for breakfast so that does not matter either."
"Th…thank ye kindly." The woman tried to compose herself. "may I 'elp you?"
"Do you know where the Steward is?"
She nodded. "The only place 'e is nowadays. 'is study."
//His study? If he is sick, why is he working?// "Thank you milady. If you will excuse me, I will leave you to your preparations." With that Aragorn silently disappeared, leaving a somewhat bewildered woman and an embroidered handkerchief behind.
Aragorn heard Éowyn before he saw her. "Faramir, please open the door!" a pause. "You cannot go on like this!"
"Like what?" asked the king as he turned the corner to find her in front of the closed door of the Steward's study.
Éowyn turned sharply, surprised to see Aragorn there, though relief flooded her eyes. Her voice lowered form a yell to a respectable volume. "King Elessar, thank the Valar you are here. Will you please order Beregond to open this door, for Faramir is not listening to me." She glared at the door.
This confused Aragorn. "Will the Captain not obey your requests?"
"He would if he was able, but Faramir ordered him to keep the door shut." Éowyn pleaded at Aragorn with her eyes. "Please help us."
Though still confused, Aragorn knocked on the wooden door. "Captain Beregond this is Elessar, King of Gondor. Open the…" Beregond swung open the door so fast he almost smacked Aragorn in the face."…door. Thank you."
The relief on Beregond's face mirrored that on Éowyn's. "Elbereth bless you for coming, my lord. I pray you can knock some sense into Lord Faramir."
Stepping into the room, Aragorn could certainly see why they were worried. One thing he knew about Faramir that never had changed was his penchant for neatness. Faramir wasn't compulsive about it, but the king could always count on his Steward to be tidy and ordered. So walking into the usually clean study and seeing the mess of papers, books, quills, and melted candles that littered the floor and furniture, instantly alerted Aragorn that something was definitely wrong.
The king surveyed the study, his eyes settling on the hunched-over figure sitting at the desk. "Faramir?" The figure didn't seem to notice his presence, continuing to read the book he was bent over and muttering to himself. "Faramir!"
Startled, the Steward snapped his head up, wincing at the sudden movement. Faramir's eyes widened and he stood up quickly when he saw who had interrupted his solitude. "King Elessar! What're you doing here?"
Aragorn leveled him with a royal gaze, nothing the Steward's slurred speech and uncharacteristic bluntness. "I received an intriguing message from Ithilien. When I arrived I find that the land and the people I have entrusted you with have been neglected to an approaching darkness, and I find you closeted away in a room that looks like a Harad duststorm hit it."
"Éowyn is capable."
"Lady Éowyn is not the Steward. It is not her duty to rule Ithilien, it is yours."
The king's recrimination did not faze Faramir. "Mithrandir took on the duties of the Steward during the war."
Aragorn frowned, annoyed at Faramir's tone of voice, and spoke without thinking. "That is because your father was driven mad by the darkness he saw in the palantir!"
Faramir's eyes flashed. "And I am being driven mad by a nightmare, what is the difference?"
Aragorn realized that he had just hit a crucial point in the conversation. "What nightmare?"
But it was too late. Faramir clamed up, having not meant to mention his dream. "Forgive me, my lord, for speaking so. Your arrival surprised me. I'd better take my leave to freshen up before breakfast."
"Faramir…" Aragorn didn't have a chance to finish his sentence, the Steward having bowed and hastily left. //What in Varda's name is going on?//
Aragorn met Éowyn and Beregond outside the study The Captain of the White Guard was gritting his teeth from worry and anger at being so helpless. Éowyn seemed torn between doing the same and crying. She looked up at Aragorn. "You can see why we are worried. It is like he is not even himself anymore. I do not know what to do, he has not slept in four days, slept little before then, and he will not talk to me."
The king glanced at her, thoughtfully. "Perhaps the time for trying to talk is over." Beregond and Éowyn waited for him to elaborate, bust he just said, "I need to work on something for a little bit. I will meet you and Lord Faramir at breakfast." Aragorn started walking away, but stopped and turned back. "When I give you a signal, hold your breath." He smiled at their confusion as he left. The smile faded as he thought of what he was going to do. //But something has to be done. This can't continue.//
~*~
Faramir splashed his face with cold water from a basin. When he looked into the small mirror above the basin, he didn't even recognize himself. Four days without sleep had left him drawn and gaunt, looking a decade older, scruffy and unkempt. Sighing, Faramir turned and put on a clean tunic. Fresh clothes, a clean face, and trimmed hair made him more presentable, but nothing could hide his blood-shot eyes and tired features. His movements were heavy and his head pounded with a perpetual headache.
With a gloomy heart, Faramir recognized that this was killing him. Even if he did not break his neck on the stairs or set his study on fire with candles, his body could not handle much more deprivation of rest. Yet he did not dare sleep. The nightmare was becoming clearer, drawing him more deeply into the depths of an evil past.
That was why he had refused sleep altogether the last few days. The dream had felt so real that Faramir could feel the knife against his skin as it cut into his throat. When he had woken, he found himself clutching at his neck, the pain still lingering in his flesh. Faramir then decided not to sleep again until…well, he wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but he knew he wouldn't, no, couldn't sleep until then.
"Faramir?" He heard his name spoken hesitantly and turned to see that Éowyn had entered the bedroom. Guilt gnawed at him seeing his strong wife with uncertainty on her face, maybe even…fear? Fear of him? More likely fear for him.
The Steward slowly reached out his hand and lightly brushed her cheek. "I love you, Éowyn."
With those words, Éowyn's nerves relaxed and she moved closer to her husband. "I love you too, Faramir."
A small, but genuine, smile crossed Faramir's face and he pulled her into a gentle embrace. Neither said anything, afraid to start an argument, but they held each other tightly, perhaps a small step towards healing.
Yet outside in the woods of Ithilien, the darkness grew.
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OK, I am feeling very benevolent tonight so I'm going to put up the next chapter.