A/N: This chapter has been GREATLY revised on Apr 19, 2004. Please re-read
it if you have read it before, and forgive my fickle writing.
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At some point during the morning, Arwen had ordered a bath drawn for me, and her handmaidens had helped me to scrub the grime from my face and body. The heat from it had relaxed me, and I must have fallen asleep there, because I awoke lying in the king and queen's bed, at first imagining that it was mine and Faramir's. With a sigh, I rose, finding myself dressed in a white, silken nightgown. There were a matching robe and slippers laid out for me as well, so I donned them and left the bedchamber in search of the queen.
One of the maids met me in the corridor and explained that Arwen had left the apartments for a short while in order to see the king off to the River Poros. She invited me to wait in the queen's sitting room, and I nodded my thanks and went there.
Stepping out onto a small balcony, I looked out over the Pelennor, seeing the army begin to emerge from the front gate, the king's banner fluttering in the breeze at the head of the column. I knew that Aragorn was at the head of that column, no better tracker, save for the Elves, in the realm. If Faramir was to be found, Aragorn was the man who could do it. I shivered suddenly and turned away from the sight, hugging myself tightly as I returned inside.
It was not long before Arwen returned, her fathomless blue eyes filled with compassion. "Éowyn," she smiled softly, "I thought you might sleep a while longer."
"I find sleep is something that I have been doing rather well without these past few days. Finally I can understand how my husband does it." I smiled despite myself.
"Is there aught more that I can do for you, friend?"
"Nay, Arwen, save for praying for Faramir's safe return." I turned back to the view of the Fields. The queen drew herself beside me, and together we watched the mounted soldiers stream from the city.
"I do that already with every breath, Éowyn," she finally murmured, taking my cold hand in her warm one. "Remain strong, my lady."
I nodded, and indicated that I was ready to depart her chambers for those of the steward. She nodded in understanding and summoned a maid to help me dress in one of the queen's own gowns. I thanked her and followed the woman to the dressing room. I was offered a choice between a pale green, velvet frock and a rose-colored, silken affair, but I did not much care which I wore, so the maid chose for me, and I left the apartments dressed in green, my hair hanging as usual in a simple braid down the middle of my back.
I departed the Citadel and went to the shuttered Steward's house. There were no guards posted at the entrance because we were not officially in residence, and I slipped undetected into the darkened interior, closing the huge door softly behind me. Without pause I went straight to Faramir's study and sank into the leather chair behind the desk. As always, his study was cluttered with books and parchments of indeterminable age, scattered throughout the room in small piles. I loved this room, because it was wholly his, and when first we were married, I would oft come here while Faramir was in council, and sit, letting the scent of the room wash over me, a scent that is thoroughly his, a mixture of old books, leather, ink, brandy and that wood-scented soap that he loves so much. It was almost as if he sat here with me in the darkness.
I slept in his chair that night. The next morning, I sent word to Emyn Arnen, commanding that all but a token guard remain at the house there, for I did not want any of our servants to be trapped if the Haradrim's forces should reach that far north. And then I went to the Houses of Healing to visit Damrod.
He lay in his bed, pale and still, Mablung sleeping in the chair beside him. I placed my hand upon Mablung's shoulder, waking him from his doze. He smiled up at me and started to stand, intending to give me the chair, but I pushed him back down.
"How fares he?" I whispered.
"I am told he will live, my lady, though it will be long before he draws his bow." I nodded, relieved. "How fare you, Lady Éowyn?"
"I am well, Mablung. I spoke with the king yesterday before he and his army departed for the River Poros." I chuckled mirthlessly. "He asked if I would accompany him."
"I am surprised that you did not." But he said naught else.
I shrugged. "I have had enough of battle to last me yet a little while. I fear I would be of little use to them since I think my worry for Faramir should impede my good judgment." I changed the subject. "If either you or Anborn requires somewhere to stay while you are here in the city, I have more than enough room in the Steward's house. For now, it is only Beregond, Einarfin and I there."
He bowed his head to me. "Thank you, my lady, but Anborn went with the king yesterday, and I spoke with the quartermaster and he will allow me to stay with Damrod until he is able to rise on his own."
I nodded. "The offer remains, should you change your mind." I bid him farewell and returned to the empty Steward's house to pray for my husband.
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It was quiet and dark, and above all it was cold. It was my shivering that had awakened me.
I could feel that I was propped up in a comfortable bed, and I knew from the weight of the covers over me that they were furs instead of blankets. They were soft against my bare chest, and I sighed softly as I relaxed into them. A cool hand rested briefly against my brow, and then I heard voices quietly speaking, though the words meant nothing to me. The furs were pulled back, and hands skimmed over my broken arm, which now was bound across my body, the bones obviously having been set while I was unconscious.
"Faramir?" The voice was calling my name, but despite my shivering, I was content to rest here. I did not respond to her. With another sigh, I slept.
Children's voices wakened me next. I slowly opened my eyes and observed that the door of the humble abode was standing wide open, bright sunlight streaming in across the dirt floor, a fresh breeze airing out the musty house. Obviously Almaria's two daughters were outside playing a game, and in their exuberance had forgotten to keep quiet.
They grew hush when their mother scolded them, and then she appeared in the doorway with a cup in her hand and walked to my bedside, a calculating expression upon her face. Somewhat alarmed as the previous events returned to my bedimmed consciousness, I attempted to sit up, but found that I could not, as my feet were bound to the footboard and my good arm was bound with bandages to the broken one across my chest. Wary, I waited for her to speak.
"Would you like more tea?" she asked me pleasantly.
"Nay, lady, I think I have had quite enough of your tea," I replied hoarsely, but emphatically.
Her smile faded. Setting the cup aside, she rested her hand on my cheek. "Your fever is down somewhat. How do you feel?"
Though I was confused by her, I felt quite unwell and told her so.
She nodded. "You have thrashed in fever for nigh three days, and I wondered if you should even live."
"You drugged me." Her face flushed somewhat at the accusation before she crossed the room and fetched some water, bringing it back to me. She began to lift it to my lips, but I said, "I will not drink that, Almaria."
"I did indeed add a little something extra to the willow bark tea, but it was more for my daughters' sakes than for yours. I did not want them to have to endure your screams as I arranged the bones in your arm into a more comfortable position. They have seen much too much pain in their short lives, and if I can spare them any more, I will." She sipped the water herself as if to prove that it was safe before she offered it again to me. My thirst needed refreshing, so reluctantly, I drank deeply, letting the cool liquid slip down my throat.
"If that is the case, then why am I bound?" I asked as I finished the water. I eyed her for a moment. She looked regretful, but then she shrugged, and her fingers briefly brushed over the Ring of the Steward upon my right hand.
"There are things that you have not told me, Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor." She said my name and title with such abject deliberateness that I realized that she now might pose a greater threat to me than even the River Poros had. "I assume you know what the Haradrim would give for such a prize as you, and I intend to use the reward to get my family out of this worthless hovel." She turned from me, looking through the doorway to where her girls were playing. "Men!" she lamented. "They go afield and leave the women to do the real work. And what are we to do when they do not return?" She wheeled around to face me again, and I nearly flinched at the fury in her eyes. "We keep working and hope for the best." Her eyes narrowed. "It is most fortunate that you arrived when you did, Lord Steward, most especially in your pitiful condition." She chuckled mirthlessly. "You Gondorian men are all the same. You see a pretty face, and the trust lights up your grey eyes. Your foolishness is laughable."
At this point, I was inclined to agree, though I said naught. The light in the room dimmed somewhat, and I glanced at the doorway, seeing the two girls staring at me with wide eyes. I glanced at them briefly before my gaze moved back to Almaria's face. "Think of your children, madam. Do you think it is appropriate for them to see you holding me as a captive?"
She shooed her girls back outside before turning back to me. "They are innocent and know nothing about that. You should be improved enough to be moved from here in a day or so."
"Whatever you think that the Haradrim might offer you, I am certain that I could offer you more. After all, I am the Steward of Gondor, and I have much wealth at my disposal. If you would only free me, I should send payment to you for your help as soon as I reach the city."
She glanced at my betrothal rings. "Your lady wife is fortunate that you were returned to her whole after the war. I have waited for two long years for my husband to return, though I do not think he comes anymore. But I thank the Valar every day that he left me with three strong, healthy children, though I fear that Madach will leave soon, perhaps also to join the army like his father did."
"With any luck, he will not feel compelled to go," I murmured.
"Perhaps, though everyone who lives between here and the River Harnen knows that war will continue in South Gondor until either Gondor or Harad decides to take the land for themselves and defend it properly against the other."
I nodded. "Gondor is willing to do that, though I know not if she has the resources at this time. The king expresses an interest in repopulating this land, though."
"Alas, I do not intend to wait to see who might win that war. We are starving here, and neither Gondor nor Harad seems to care." She leaned close to me, lowering her voice. "Fear not, Faramir. You shall not be killed. You shall be ransomed back to your people."
"Do you really believe that, Almaria? More likely I shall be tortured until I have revealed all of King Elessar's state secrets, and then my throat shall be slit, my body left in some back alley in a city somewhere in Near Harad." She seemed to not hear me, and I raised my voice angrily. "Do you understand? I have a wife waiting for me at home and a babe on the way! Do you think it apt that they should suffer like you do because your husband did not return from the War?"
She straightened and spoke as if I had spoke of naught. "Madach is fishing again, but when he returns, I shall make us some more soup from his catch."
I growled in frustration, slamming my head back against the pillows, closing my eyes. My thoughts had turned to Éowyn, and I hoped desperately that she had fared well on the way to Minas Tirith. It had been near a week since we had parted, her eyes wide with fright for me as I had compelled her to run. It had crossed my mind as I battled with my sword against the Southrons that she might have thought to return and fight by my side, but she had not. I knew that her presence would have merely distracted me from my purpose anyway. But now, I wished for her presence, or any friendly presence for that matter, because I knew that if this irrational woman handed me over to the Haradrim, I should never see another friendly face in what little life I had left.
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When Éowyn had come before me in my office, I was shocked to see how worn she had looked, though I said nothing to her, unwilling to risk her wrath. And when she told me that the Steward of Gondor had disappeared, I wholly understood her appearance. My heart fell at the telling of it, and later, when I heard the full story from my beloved's lips, I thought it unlikely that Faramir yet lived.
But my wife had directed me to look into my own heart, and I found that there remained hope, though small, that he might have escaped death yet again. The man seems to lead a charmed life, and though ill things befall him oft times, the love and respect that people feel for him manage to carry him through.
I had wondered at the Steward when he first came to me and proposed this short journey to the ranger outpost along the River Poros. Though he had framed his request in words that would make it appear that it was I who had originated the idea, I realized after our conversation that this was more of a challenge that he had issued to himself as he had not returned to the field since his retreat from Osgiliath. Never had I required it of him nor did I think he should go afield, for his work as the Steward of Gondor kept him occupied enough without my adding more to his agenda. But his argument was forceful though friendly, and so I allowed it, realizing that to keep a ranger locked within a city for too long is an ill thing. I asked him to observe the area near there for me as well, for I hoped that someday we might officially reclaim South Gondor as ours, and eventually repopulate it.
And now, Faramir was gone, though he had first managed to see that his wife was returned safely among his own men. As my army plodded southward toward Pelargir, my military advisors spoke to me of approaching this uprising in a diplomatic manner. I found, though, that I did not feel politically inclined this day. Eventually, I sent them away from me, keeping only my guard around me as I brooded about what my ministers termed 'The Harad Situation'.
It was plain that I had allowed this situation to ripen over the months since the end of the War, being more concerned with the inner workings of the White City, and the need to rebuild and rearm her as soon as possible. Parts of the outer kingdom had suffered neglect as a result. Even granting Faramir the title of Prince of Ithilien had not truly aided Gondor, for now the man's attention was stretched even thinner.
And I wondered at Éowyn. When I asked if she would join me to rescue her husband, she told me that she was unwilling to disobey him, as he had sent her from him. This was not the usual way of things. Éowyn was Rohirrim and not wont to submit herself to the will of others, not even her husband. I realized that there was more to this than my eyes could yet see, though Arwen said naught about it. I was certain that their marriage was yet a happy one. At least I assumed that it was, since the steward fair glows when anyone even mentions his wife's name in passing. Perhaps she was wroth with him for some reason and just hiding it well.
Two and a half days into our journey, we reached the port city of Pelargir, where I was received by the leaders of the city at the City Hall which overlooked the River Anduin, before spending the night in the Houses of Nobility, the bulk of my army camping just outside of the city walls on the east side of the city. I met briefly with the Steward of Pelargir, Holmar, who was a tall, austere man, as I was interested in his opinions of the Haradrim's latest exploits. He seemed unsurprised and yet unperturbed. I questioned him about his seeming heedlessness of a dangerous situation.
He shrugged. "We had assumed that the king had the Southrons well in hand since the War. Though we have heard of skirmishes along the Poros, Harad has not recently sent troops to attack our fair city."
"I like not your attitude, Lord Steward. Your city still belongs to Gondor, and as such, I expect to receive word from you of any trouble that befalls your troops inside or outside of Pelargir. I knew naught of these 'skirmishes' that you speak of, and so, I allowed the Steward of Gondor to travel to the Crossings of Poros, falsely thinking that he would be safe there. And now he has gone missing!"
He grimaced at the intensity of my tone, but bowed to me nonetheless. I explained that I wished for a third of his mounted guard, nearly three- hundred strong, to ride out with my army on the morrow under any commander of his choosing. He paled a bit, but did not dare to argue with me, for which I was almost disappointed, and I turned quickly and stalked to the Houses of Nobility, as angry as I can ever remember being in all of my eighty-nine years.
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In the dark that night, I felt someone silently approach my bedside, and briefly I wondered if Almaria had decided perhaps to slit my throat herself. But it was Madach who had drawn near, and he signaled for me to remain quiet as he took my right hand in his and deftly removed the Ring of the Stewards from my finger.
"What do you think you are doing?" I hissed at him, though I glanced toward where his mother lay, sleeping upon the floor. He scowled at me and again indicated that he wished me to remain quiet as he wrested the argent betrothal ring also from my right hand. The young villain was robbing me!
As he reached for my golden ring, I tried to pull away from him. Surprisingly, he rested his hand lightly on the back of mine, and whispered one word to me.
"Please."
To this day, I do not know why, but I silently allowed him to slip my gold betrothal ring from my left hand, the one that Éowyn had designed, had commissioned to be created by a skilled craftsman, and had presented to me on our wedding day. He slid all three rings into his pocket and patted it as if showing me that he would keep them safe before he padded away to lie back down next to his sisters.
I considered his actions for a short time, but I was feeling too wretched, and so I closed my eyes again and went back to sleep, wondering what the dawn might bring.
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My household staff arrived from Emyn Arnen in the evening three days after the message had been sent to them. Smartly, they had traveled lightly, carrying only that which could not be replaced easily, and so there had been horses laden with books and some small mementos, and all others were ridden by our people. I was most happy to note that Simbelmynë and Windfola had somehow found their way home from the ranger outpost and were among the herd.
I was most especially happy to see my maid Serni again, as she was often a great source of comfort to me in hard times. I hugged her when I saw her and even helped to unload some things from a few of the horses, before she drew me into Faramir's and my bedchamber where she had a bath being readied for me. I smiled at her thoughtfulness and sank into the steaming water, hoping that it might urge me into sleep.
But I remained awake, though I was glad that Serni kept my mind occupied with her endless chatter as she turned down the covers on the bed and laid out my nightdress. As I emerged from the bath, the subject at last turned to Faramir, though she brought him up quite by accident and seemed most embarrassed by her lapse. I forgave her with a wave of my hand as she dried my body and helped me into my gown.
"How have you been faring, my lady?" she asked, trying to judge my mood.
"Not well, I am afraid. I have not been sleeping well of late."
She nodded. "Well, I shall order up some tea from the kitchen, and we will relax you enough that you might sleep tonight, Lady Éowyn. Lay you down in yonder bed."
But I turned my face away from her so that she could not see my expression, though my emotions were more than ably communicated by my voice when I said, "Serni, I think I should scream just from looking upon that empty bed once more. I most certainly cannot bear to lie in it."
"But where have you been sleeping, my lady?"
"I have been sleeping nowhere! I have been sitting nights in my lord's study, attempting to take comfort in being surrounded by his things, since he is so far away. It is all I can find to do with myself at night."
Serni said, "Then perhaps you would take your tea in Lord Faramir's study?"
I smiled a little. She always knew the best way to try to content me. I left the bedchamber, going downstairs to the study, where Serni brought me tea with honey the way Faramir takes it and honey cakes to nibble on, though I did not feel much hungry. She asked if I needed aught else, but I dismissed her, for I did not feel comfortable sharing this space with any but my husband.
She nodded understandingly and left me alone with my memories. I took a sip of tea and picked up the small portrait of Finduilas that Faramir always keeps on his desk. She really had been quite beautiful, and I could see a lot of her youngest son in the features that stared at me from the ornate frame. And for a moment I mourned her, though I had never known her, because I thought it might have been nice to get to know her, someone who could tell me secrets from when my husband was a boy. But there was no one left in this city to talk to about those things. I was alone here.
Unable to bear it any longer, I picked up a quill and composed a brief letter to my husband's family in Dol Amroth, begging them to come with all haste. I hoped that Faramir's Uncle Imrahil would be able to offer comfort, and I knew that his family deserved to know what had befallen Faramir.
Uncle Imrahil,
I hope this letter finds you all well in Dol Amroth. Sadly,
that is not the case with your nephew. He took what should have been
a routine journey south to the River Poros, and after being attacked
by Haradrim troops, he has disappeared.
My wish is that you and your family might be able to come to me
here in Minas Tirith while I await his return. If you are unable to
come because of duty or aught else, please send word as soon as
possible.
I hope our family might grow closer during this difficult time.
Éowyn
I hopd that Faramir's uncle did not mind the forthright way that I wrote the bad news, and I prayed that he would journey to the White City with all haste, though I knew the distance was not a short one, easily a two-week-long ride at a leisurely pace. Perhaps, with good luck, Faramir would be here waiting for his family when they arrived. I certainly hoped so.
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At some point during the morning, Arwen had ordered a bath drawn for me, and her handmaidens had helped me to scrub the grime from my face and body. The heat from it had relaxed me, and I must have fallen asleep there, because I awoke lying in the king and queen's bed, at first imagining that it was mine and Faramir's. With a sigh, I rose, finding myself dressed in a white, silken nightgown. There were a matching robe and slippers laid out for me as well, so I donned them and left the bedchamber in search of the queen.
One of the maids met me in the corridor and explained that Arwen had left the apartments for a short while in order to see the king off to the River Poros. She invited me to wait in the queen's sitting room, and I nodded my thanks and went there.
Stepping out onto a small balcony, I looked out over the Pelennor, seeing the army begin to emerge from the front gate, the king's banner fluttering in the breeze at the head of the column. I knew that Aragorn was at the head of that column, no better tracker, save for the Elves, in the realm. If Faramir was to be found, Aragorn was the man who could do it. I shivered suddenly and turned away from the sight, hugging myself tightly as I returned inside.
It was not long before Arwen returned, her fathomless blue eyes filled with compassion. "Éowyn," she smiled softly, "I thought you might sleep a while longer."
"I find sleep is something that I have been doing rather well without these past few days. Finally I can understand how my husband does it." I smiled despite myself.
"Is there aught more that I can do for you, friend?"
"Nay, Arwen, save for praying for Faramir's safe return." I turned back to the view of the Fields. The queen drew herself beside me, and together we watched the mounted soldiers stream from the city.
"I do that already with every breath, Éowyn," she finally murmured, taking my cold hand in her warm one. "Remain strong, my lady."
I nodded, and indicated that I was ready to depart her chambers for those of the steward. She nodded in understanding and summoned a maid to help me dress in one of the queen's own gowns. I thanked her and followed the woman to the dressing room. I was offered a choice between a pale green, velvet frock and a rose-colored, silken affair, but I did not much care which I wore, so the maid chose for me, and I left the apartments dressed in green, my hair hanging as usual in a simple braid down the middle of my back.
I departed the Citadel and went to the shuttered Steward's house. There were no guards posted at the entrance because we were not officially in residence, and I slipped undetected into the darkened interior, closing the huge door softly behind me. Without pause I went straight to Faramir's study and sank into the leather chair behind the desk. As always, his study was cluttered with books and parchments of indeterminable age, scattered throughout the room in small piles. I loved this room, because it was wholly his, and when first we were married, I would oft come here while Faramir was in council, and sit, letting the scent of the room wash over me, a scent that is thoroughly his, a mixture of old books, leather, ink, brandy and that wood-scented soap that he loves so much. It was almost as if he sat here with me in the darkness.
I slept in his chair that night. The next morning, I sent word to Emyn Arnen, commanding that all but a token guard remain at the house there, for I did not want any of our servants to be trapped if the Haradrim's forces should reach that far north. And then I went to the Houses of Healing to visit Damrod.
He lay in his bed, pale and still, Mablung sleeping in the chair beside him. I placed my hand upon Mablung's shoulder, waking him from his doze. He smiled up at me and started to stand, intending to give me the chair, but I pushed him back down.
"How fares he?" I whispered.
"I am told he will live, my lady, though it will be long before he draws his bow." I nodded, relieved. "How fare you, Lady Éowyn?"
"I am well, Mablung. I spoke with the king yesterday before he and his army departed for the River Poros." I chuckled mirthlessly. "He asked if I would accompany him."
"I am surprised that you did not." But he said naught else.
I shrugged. "I have had enough of battle to last me yet a little while. I fear I would be of little use to them since I think my worry for Faramir should impede my good judgment." I changed the subject. "If either you or Anborn requires somewhere to stay while you are here in the city, I have more than enough room in the Steward's house. For now, it is only Beregond, Einarfin and I there."
He bowed his head to me. "Thank you, my lady, but Anborn went with the king yesterday, and I spoke with the quartermaster and he will allow me to stay with Damrod until he is able to rise on his own."
I nodded. "The offer remains, should you change your mind." I bid him farewell and returned to the empty Steward's house to pray for my husband.
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It was quiet and dark, and above all it was cold. It was my shivering that had awakened me.
I could feel that I was propped up in a comfortable bed, and I knew from the weight of the covers over me that they were furs instead of blankets. They were soft against my bare chest, and I sighed softly as I relaxed into them. A cool hand rested briefly against my brow, and then I heard voices quietly speaking, though the words meant nothing to me. The furs were pulled back, and hands skimmed over my broken arm, which now was bound across my body, the bones obviously having been set while I was unconscious.
"Faramir?" The voice was calling my name, but despite my shivering, I was content to rest here. I did not respond to her. With another sigh, I slept.
Children's voices wakened me next. I slowly opened my eyes and observed that the door of the humble abode was standing wide open, bright sunlight streaming in across the dirt floor, a fresh breeze airing out the musty house. Obviously Almaria's two daughters were outside playing a game, and in their exuberance had forgotten to keep quiet.
They grew hush when their mother scolded them, and then she appeared in the doorway with a cup in her hand and walked to my bedside, a calculating expression upon her face. Somewhat alarmed as the previous events returned to my bedimmed consciousness, I attempted to sit up, but found that I could not, as my feet were bound to the footboard and my good arm was bound with bandages to the broken one across my chest. Wary, I waited for her to speak.
"Would you like more tea?" she asked me pleasantly.
"Nay, lady, I think I have had quite enough of your tea," I replied hoarsely, but emphatically.
Her smile faded. Setting the cup aside, she rested her hand on my cheek. "Your fever is down somewhat. How do you feel?"
Though I was confused by her, I felt quite unwell and told her so.
She nodded. "You have thrashed in fever for nigh three days, and I wondered if you should even live."
"You drugged me." Her face flushed somewhat at the accusation before she crossed the room and fetched some water, bringing it back to me. She began to lift it to my lips, but I said, "I will not drink that, Almaria."
"I did indeed add a little something extra to the willow bark tea, but it was more for my daughters' sakes than for yours. I did not want them to have to endure your screams as I arranged the bones in your arm into a more comfortable position. They have seen much too much pain in their short lives, and if I can spare them any more, I will." She sipped the water herself as if to prove that it was safe before she offered it again to me. My thirst needed refreshing, so reluctantly, I drank deeply, letting the cool liquid slip down my throat.
"If that is the case, then why am I bound?" I asked as I finished the water. I eyed her for a moment. She looked regretful, but then she shrugged, and her fingers briefly brushed over the Ring of the Steward upon my right hand.
"There are things that you have not told me, Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor." She said my name and title with such abject deliberateness that I realized that she now might pose a greater threat to me than even the River Poros had. "I assume you know what the Haradrim would give for such a prize as you, and I intend to use the reward to get my family out of this worthless hovel." She turned from me, looking through the doorway to where her girls were playing. "Men!" she lamented. "They go afield and leave the women to do the real work. And what are we to do when they do not return?" She wheeled around to face me again, and I nearly flinched at the fury in her eyes. "We keep working and hope for the best." Her eyes narrowed. "It is most fortunate that you arrived when you did, Lord Steward, most especially in your pitiful condition." She chuckled mirthlessly. "You Gondorian men are all the same. You see a pretty face, and the trust lights up your grey eyes. Your foolishness is laughable."
At this point, I was inclined to agree, though I said naught. The light in the room dimmed somewhat, and I glanced at the doorway, seeing the two girls staring at me with wide eyes. I glanced at them briefly before my gaze moved back to Almaria's face. "Think of your children, madam. Do you think it is appropriate for them to see you holding me as a captive?"
She shooed her girls back outside before turning back to me. "They are innocent and know nothing about that. You should be improved enough to be moved from here in a day or so."
"Whatever you think that the Haradrim might offer you, I am certain that I could offer you more. After all, I am the Steward of Gondor, and I have much wealth at my disposal. If you would only free me, I should send payment to you for your help as soon as I reach the city."
She glanced at my betrothal rings. "Your lady wife is fortunate that you were returned to her whole after the war. I have waited for two long years for my husband to return, though I do not think he comes anymore. But I thank the Valar every day that he left me with three strong, healthy children, though I fear that Madach will leave soon, perhaps also to join the army like his father did."
"With any luck, he will not feel compelled to go," I murmured.
"Perhaps, though everyone who lives between here and the River Harnen knows that war will continue in South Gondor until either Gondor or Harad decides to take the land for themselves and defend it properly against the other."
I nodded. "Gondor is willing to do that, though I know not if she has the resources at this time. The king expresses an interest in repopulating this land, though."
"Alas, I do not intend to wait to see who might win that war. We are starving here, and neither Gondor nor Harad seems to care." She leaned close to me, lowering her voice. "Fear not, Faramir. You shall not be killed. You shall be ransomed back to your people."
"Do you really believe that, Almaria? More likely I shall be tortured until I have revealed all of King Elessar's state secrets, and then my throat shall be slit, my body left in some back alley in a city somewhere in Near Harad." She seemed to not hear me, and I raised my voice angrily. "Do you understand? I have a wife waiting for me at home and a babe on the way! Do you think it apt that they should suffer like you do because your husband did not return from the War?"
She straightened and spoke as if I had spoke of naught. "Madach is fishing again, but when he returns, I shall make us some more soup from his catch."
I growled in frustration, slamming my head back against the pillows, closing my eyes. My thoughts had turned to Éowyn, and I hoped desperately that she had fared well on the way to Minas Tirith. It had been near a week since we had parted, her eyes wide with fright for me as I had compelled her to run. It had crossed my mind as I battled with my sword against the Southrons that she might have thought to return and fight by my side, but she had not. I knew that her presence would have merely distracted me from my purpose anyway. But now, I wished for her presence, or any friendly presence for that matter, because I knew that if this irrational woman handed me over to the Haradrim, I should never see another friendly face in what little life I had left.
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When Éowyn had come before me in my office, I was shocked to see how worn she had looked, though I said nothing to her, unwilling to risk her wrath. And when she told me that the Steward of Gondor had disappeared, I wholly understood her appearance. My heart fell at the telling of it, and later, when I heard the full story from my beloved's lips, I thought it unlikely that Faramir yet lived.
But my wife had directed me to look into my own heart, and I found that there remained hope, though small, that he might have escaped death yet again. The man seems to lead a charmed life, and though ill things befall him oft times, the love and respect that people feel for him manage to carry him through.
I had wondered at the Steward when he first came to me and proposed this short journey to the ranger outpost along the River Poros. Though he had framed his request in words that would make it appear that it was I who had originated the idea, I realized after our conversation that this was more of a challenge that he had issued to himself as he had not returned to the field since his retreat from Osgiliath. Never had I required it of him nor did I think he should go afield, for his work as the Steward of Gondor kept him occupied enough without my adding more to his agenda. But his argument was forceful though friendly, and so I allowed it, realizing that to keep a ranger locked within a city for too long is an ill thing. I asked him to observe the area near there for me as well, for I hoped that someday we might officially reclaim South Gondor as ours, and eventually repopulate it.
And now, Faramir was gone, though he had first managed to see that his wife was returned safely among his own men. As my army plodded southward toward Pelargir, my military advisors spoke to me of approaching this uprising in a diplomatic manner. I found, though, that I did not feel politically inclined this day. Eventually, I sent them away from me, keeping only my guard around me as I brooded about what my ministers termed 'The Harad Situation'.
It was plain that I had allowed this situation to ripen over the months since the end of the War, being more concerned with the inner workings of the White City, and the need to rebuild and rearm her as soon as possible. Parts of the outer kingdom had suffered neglect as a result. Even granting Faramir the title of Prince of Ithilien had not truly aided Gondor, for now the man's attention was stretched even thinner.
And I wondered at Éowyn. When I asked if she would join me to rescue her husband, she told me that she was unwilling to disobey him, as he had sent her from him. This was not the usual way of things. Éowyn was Rohirrim and not wont to submit herself to the will of others, not even her husband. I realized that there was more to this than my eyes could yet see, though Arwen said naught about it. I was certain that their marriage was yet a happy one. At least I assumed that it was, since the steward fair glows when anyone even mentions his wife's name in passing. Perhaps she was wroth with him for some reason and just hiding it well.
Two and a half days into our journey, we reached the port city of Pelargir, where I was received by the leaders of the city at the City Hall which overlooked the River Anduin, before spending the night in the Houses of Nobility, the bulk of my army camping just outside of the city walls on the east side of the city. I met briefly with the Steward of Pelargir, Holmar, who was a tall, austere man, as I was interested in his opinions of the Haradrim's latest exploits. He seemed unsurprised and yet unperturbed. I questioned him about his seeming heedlessness of a dangerous situation.
He shrugged. "We had assumed that the king had the Southrons well in hand since the War. Though we have heard of skirmishes along the Poros, Harad has not recently sent troops to attack our fair city."
"I like not your attitude, Lord Steward. Your city still belongs to Gondor, and as such, I expect to receive word from you of any trouble that befalls your troops inside or outside of Pelargir. I knew naught of these 'skirmishes' that you speak of, and so, I allowed the Steward of Gondor to travel to the Crossings of Poros, falsely thinking that he would be safe there. And now he has gone missing!"
He grimaced at the intensity of my tone, but bowed to me nonetheless. I explained that I wished for a third of his mounted guard, nearly three- hundred strong, to ride out with my army on the morrow under any commander of his choosing. He paled a bit, but did not dare to argue with me, for which I was almost disappointed, and I turned quickly and stalked to the Houses of Nobility, as angry as I can ever remember being in all of my eighty-nine years.
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In the dark that night, I felt someone silently approach my bedside, and briefly I wondered if Almaria had decided perhaps to slit my throat herself. But it was Madach who had drawn near, and he signaled for me to remain quiet as he took my right hand in his and deftly removed the Ring of the Stewards from my finger.
"What do you think you are doing?" I hissed at him, though I glanced toward where his mother lay, sleeping upon the floor. He scowled at me and again indicated that he wished me to remain quiet as he wrested the argent betrothal ring also from my right hand. The young villain was robbing me!
As he reached for my golden ring, I tried to pull away from him. Surprisingly, he rested his hand lightly on the back of mine, and whispered one word to me.
"Please."
To this day, I do not know why, but I silently allowed him to slip my gold betrothal ring from my left hand, the one that Éowyn had designed, had commissioned to be created by a skilled craftsman, and had presented to me on our wedding day. He slid all three rings into his pocket and patted it as if showing me that he would keep them safe before he padded away to lie back down next to his sisters.
I considered his actions for a short time, but I was feeling too wretched, and so I closed my eyes again and went back to sleep, wondering what the dawn might bring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My household staff arrived from Emyn Arnen in the evening three days after the message had been sent to them. Smartly, they had traveled lightly, carrying only that which could not be replaced easily, and so there had been horses laden with books and some small mementos, and all others were ridden by our people. I was most happy to note that Simbelmynë and Windfola had somehow found their way home from the ranger outpost and were among the herd.
I was most especially happy to see my maid Serni again, as she was often a great source of comfort to me in hard times. I hugged her when I saw her and even helped to unload some things from a few of the horses, before she drew me into Faramir's and my bedchamber where she had a bath being readied for me. I smiled at her thoughtfulness and sank into the steaming water, hoping that it might urge me into sleep.
But I remained awake, though I was glad that Serni kept my mind occupied with her endless chatter as she turned down the covers on the bed and laid out my nightdress. As I emerged from the bath, the subject at last turned to Faramir, though she brought him up quite by accident and seemed most embarrassed by her lapse. I forgave her with a wave of my hand as she dried my body and helped me into my gown.
"How have you been faring, my lady?" she asked, trying to judge my mood.
"Not well, I am afraid. I have not been sleeping well of late."
She nodded. "Well, I shall order up some tea from the kitchen, and we will relax you enough that you might sleep tonight, Lady Éowyn. Lay you down in yonder bed."
But I turned my face away from her so that she could not see my expression, though my emotions were more than ably communicated by my voice when I said, "Serni, I think I should scream just from looking upon that empty bed once more. I most certainly cannot bear to lie in it."
"But where have you been sleeping, my lady?"
"I have been sleeping nowhere! I have been sitting nights in my lord's study, attempting to take comfort in being surrounded by his things, since he is so far away. It is all I can find to do with myself at night."
Serni said, "Then perhaps you would take your tea in Lord Faramir's study?"
I smiled a little. She always knew the best way to try to content me. I left the bedchamber, going downstairs to the study, where Serni brought me tea with honey the way Faramir takes it and honey cakes to nibble on, though I did not feel much hungry. She asked if I needed aught else, but I dismissed her, for I did not feel comfortable sharing this space with any but my husband.
She nodded understandingly and left me alone with my memories. I took a sip of tea and picked up the small portrait of Finduilas that Faramir always keeps on his desk. She really had been quite beautiful, and I could see a lot of her youngest son in the features that stared at me from the ornate frame. And for a moment I mourned her, though I had never known her, because I thought it might have been nice to get to know her, someone who could tell me secrets from when my husband was a boy. But there was no one left in this city to talk to about those things. I was alone here.
Unable to bear it any longer, I picked up a quill and composed a brief letter to my husband's family in Dol Amroth, begging them to come with all haste. I hoped that Faramir's Uncle Imrahil would be able to offer comfort, and I knew that his family deserved to know what had befallen Faramir.
Uncle Imrahil,
I hope this letter finds you all well in Dol Amroth. Sadly,
that is not the case with your nephew. He took what should have been
a routine journey south to the River Poros, and after being attacked
by Haradrim troops, he has disappeared.
My wish is that you and your family might be able to come to me
here in Minas Tirith while I await his return. If you are unable to
come because of duty or aught else, please send word as soon as
possible.
I hope our family might grow closer during this difficult time.
Éowyn
I hopd that Faramir's uncle did not mind the forthright way that I wrote the bad news, and I prayed that he would journey to the White City with all haste, though I knew the distance was not a short one, easily a two-week-long ride at a leisurely pace. Perhaps, with good luck, Faramir would be here waiting for his family when they arrived. I certainly hoped so.