A/N: After the Random Naked Faramir Interlude (TM), the plot gets back on track as our 'visitor' from Arthedain shows up.
The Lady herself came to greet him; or at least, he was brought to greet her. Halbarad noted idly that her brother was not in sight; not like the children of Éomund to be separated. Or perhaps Éomer considered the sword at her side and the guards who flanked her enough to protect his sister. Particularly since Halbarad had been relieved of his weapons before being led to the encampment.
He frowned. Aragorn had been attempting to maintain neutrality in this war; the edicts King of Arthedain held weight in the rest of Arnor also. Valandur of Cardolan was old and without a direct heir and quite willing to let his distant cousin do the talking for him. His lands adjoined Gondor and he was even more willing, and quite happy, to have Aragorn's forces guarding the bounds of his territory. Belloth, the Queen of Rhudaur, favoured Rohan more than Gondor but cleaved to Aragorn in hope of arranging a marriage between them. The idea of having Belloth as queen of Arnor personally made Halbarad shudder a little, but Aragorn did need heirs at some point. He could only hope they took after their father.
Which left those in Aragorn's service (like Halbarad, for instance), busy with an impossible balancing act. Thankfully both Rohan and Gondor were too busy with each other (and in Gondor's case, the continuing skirmishes with the Corsairs), to bother with the realms of Arnor Broken. But war was taking its toll upon both sides, so when a messenger had reached the borders of Rhudaur, bearing news that the Rohirrim believed they had a way of convincing Denethor to agree to parley, then Belloth had jumped at the chance.
She'd also decided to 'let Aragorn the Wise' decide who got to go on this mission. Halbarad translated that as 'let one of your fools lose their head over this if it happens to be a trap'. Given the way that Éowyn Scyldcwen was smiling at him, he was beginning to wonder what exactly he had volunteered for. "My Lady." he said, bowing. "Will Lord Éomer be joining us?"
"My brother trusts me to handle things, I can assure you. Sit." It wasn't so much an offer as a command, and the wooden seat was bare and hard, but then again by the looks of things so was the one that Éowyn was sitting on. There was a carved wooden horse-head poking him in the back, and he wondered if the Rohirrim really did believe that hard-living made for better warriors. "Do you bear word from your King, then, man of Arnor?"
He brought out the message, sealed with the stamp of Fornost, on one side of it the crest of Amlaith First-King, and on the other Aragorn's own mark. "I am Halbarad of Arthedain. I would remind you, Lady of Rohan, that there is no Arnor anymore, and I can only speak for my King and the people of my own homeland."
She raised an eyebrow, examining the letter; all it said, Halbarad knew, was that he spoke for Arthedain and for its King. "To borrow one of my brother's more indelicate expressions: horseshit. I am not a fool nor entirely unaware of the situation in your lands. We both know that whatever Arthedain does, Cardolan and Rhudaur will follow as a foal its mother."
"Then shall I speak plainly?" he asked, and she nodded, apparently amused. "Aragorn has been trying to convince Denethor to meet with your uncle for years. What makes you think that you can do what my King has not?"
In response she turned to one of the guards by the entrance to the tent. "Bring him in." She turned back to Halbarad and smiled again, pleased. "He will come this time, because we will leave him no other option. I trust that we can count upon the King of Arnor – I'm sorry, the King of Arthedain, rather – to provide a suitably neutral location for the council, as well as providing a mediating force to make sure there are no further mishaps."
It would be very poor form, he reminded himself, to hit a woman, even one who was armed and would probably hit back. But the arrogance! He made a mental note to be well out of the way if Belloth and Éowyn ever ended up in the same room; the combined levels of misplaced pride would probably cause some kind of explosion. Before he could get a hold of his temper enough to make a comment that would not result in a diplomatic incident, the guards brought 'him' in, and his breath caught in his throat.
Faramir had often been a guest in Arthedain, more gentle than his father and often seeming just a little embarrassed at having to deliver messages containing yet another of Denethor's demands. Halbarad had never gotten to know him that well, but had rather liked him as it was; and he certainly recognised him, even when wearing an ill-fitting Rohirric uniform and slumped over with his hair loose and falling over his face. "What have you done!" he gasped. "This is your plan for convincing Denethor that he should strike a peace-bargain with you?"
"We have saved him." she stated, calmly. "His capture was not planned, Halbarad. He was a prisoner of war, and is better off than most would be under his circumstances. I can assure you, he is quite well, all things considering."
Halbarad moved off his chair and crouched down next to Faramir, brushing his hair back and wincing at the number of wounds he had acquired. Eyeing Éowyn suspiciously, he switched to Sindarin to talk to him, suspecting that she did not speak that tongue. "How have they treated you, son of Gondor? You can tell me. I am a friend."
Faramir looked up at him, about to speak, when Éowyn interrupted, scowling. "You will speak in Westron, or not at all. He will be returned to his father when his father comes to meet with us, and he will be returned intact; we are not barbarians. His wounds were inflicted in battle, nothing more."
"I would like to hear that in his words, not yours, my Lady. Forgive my rudeness," and his temper was definitely flaring up again, "but I only have your word that your word is trustworthy."
Éowyn glared at him for a moment more and then sat back down in her chair. "He may speak. Just not in Sindarin."
"My leg is the worst." Faramir murmured, so low that Halbarad didn't catch it at first, "A spear-wound. They have bound it and dressed it, though. And the food is terrible. Other than that, I am well enough." He turned to stare at Éowyn. "Your plan has a flaw. My father cares far more about his pride than about my fate."
"You are wrong, princeling. He will not abandon his youngest child." She smirked. "Especially as Halbarad here, or at least one of his kinsmen, shall be taking our message to Minas Tirith to be announced in a rather public fashion." She smirked. "And to make sure that he does not go back on his word, we will be insisting that Arthedain agree to defend us should Gondor attempt to invade again. Or indeed, to defend Gondor should we attack."
"Do you really think Aragorn will simply acquiesce to all your demands, m'Lady? You presume much."
"I presume that your King wishes to see the hostilities between our people and Gondor cease. Actions speak louder than words, Halbarad. If you do not want to attempt to bring Denethor to parley with us, then we will have no choice but to execute Faramir as a prisoner of war." Halbarad jumped at that threat, even delivered as it was in calm and even tones. "And war will continue, for Denethor will not bargain with us and we will not surrender. Our pride demands that."
He sighed, standing. "Then I will return to Fornost and explain the situation to my King. I can not promise you, though, that he will agree to all your demands." He shifted on his feet warily, looking down at the top of Faramir's head. "And if we are to convince Denethor that you do indeed hold his son captive, I will need to take back some sort of token."
Éowyn pursed her lips but retrieved for him a small dagger, mud on the handle and the scabbard but even from a distance obviously not a run-of-the-mill weapon. She threw it at him, and he caught it without thinking. "There." The scabbard was engraved with symbols of Gondor, the hilt inlaid with pearl among silver. The weapon of a prince, but a soldier's knife all the same.
"I'm surprised you trust me enough to let me have a weapon within the camp." The guards started to loom closer at that comment, but Éowyn waved them back, chuckling.
"I trust that you are sensible enough to know that trying anything within the camp would be as good as suicide." She shook her head. "No, you're not going to cause any trouble."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Faramir flinch just slightly at that comment, and wondered about it. "I will do what I can for you." he said in Sindarin, quickly changing back to Westron before Éowyn could say anything about it. "I thank you for this token, m'Lady. I will take my leave of you, and deliver your news to King Aragorn in all haste." He bowed low, grinning. She needed him too, after all. Someone had to take the news back to Arthedain.
"Just go." she snarled, and the guards escorted him out, a fuming Éowyn left behind. It occurred to him that that possibly hadn't been the smartest thing he'd ever done, but he would simply have to trust that the need to have Faramir intact and healthy would override her temper. He started to consider how he was going to present the edited version of events to Aragorn, as he saddled up Lagor, who seemed to be far happier with her accommodations than Faramir mostly likely was with his.
"You've got a nice horse. For a Westman." Halbarad turned slowly, seeing Éomer staring at him. "I'm not nearly as trusting as my sister. If you even think about attempting to betray us, I'll track you down and strangle you with your own entrails." That said, he turned and stalked back into the main camp, leaving Halbarad behind with his mouth open and his stomach lurching. Leading Lagor across to the makeshift camp-gate where the guards would hopefully return his sword and bow, he made a mental note to stop volunteering for things, no matter how nicely Aragorn asked.
A/N: Names – Lagor is simply 'swift' in Sindarin. Valandur of Cardolan takes his name from one of Arnor's Kings – Belloth, who is here because I decided I wanted a Ruling Queen in Arnor, has a name that means 'strong flower'. Scyldcwen, in Old English, means 'Shieldmaiden' – but 'cwen' can also mean 'queen', while 'scyld' can mean both 'shield' and 'sin'. Éomer calls Halbarad 'Westman' because Arnor is, or was, more or less due West of Rohan.