Eomer, Then Eowyn
"Faramir." A soft voice in his ear startled him awake and Faramir blinked and looked up to find Eowyn wrapped in a wooly robe and leaning over him. Sitting up in the chair he rubbed his hand across his face blearily and cleared his throat.
"I'm awake, what is it?"
She smiled. "Nothing, my love. It's early yet, barely dawn. I thought I would relieve you. Go lie down and I'll stay a while." She pushed the hair from his eyes with her fingers. "You cannot rest sleeping in a chair."
Faramir stretched a little and looked down at the king. Aragorn was sleeping peacefully, the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. Wordlessly he stood up and kissed Eowyn before heading for the door. He stopped after a few steps and turned back. "Wake him at sunrise."
"What?" She gave him a strange look as she arranged herself in the chair.
"Just for a minute, and make him talk."
"Why?"
"Because he was - last night we - he said -" He yawned enormously and shook his head in frustration, annoyed that his sleepiness left him unable to communicate his thoughts and his jaw suddenly tightened. "Please, just do it, Eowyn." He stumbled out of the room.
Eowyn's eyes grew large. He must be exhausted; both his grogginess and what was for him quite a flash of temper were not normal behavior for her husband. She wondered if he'd gotten any sleep at all last night and was doubly glad she had decided to come relieve him rather than go back to sleep herself. Seeing a piece of parchment lying on the table near the window she reached over and picked it up, quickly scanning down the page. When she had finished she glanced over at the bed, imagining the scene when the paper had been written and marveling at Aragorn's ability to have his wishes fulfilled even when lying weak and injured in bed. She knew Faramir would never refuse Aragorn anything outright, but she would have liked to hear the discussion that went on before they were through! Shaking her head she placed the parchment back on the table and settled into the chair.
When the first soft golden rays of sunshine filtered through the window Eowyn felt her heart leap for joy. A sunny day! Already she felt more encouraged and hopeful. Watching the warm light crawl across the floor she remembered Faramir's words and looked at Aragorn thoughtfully. She detested the idea of waking him when he seemed so peaceful, but Faramir had been adamant and who knew what they had talked about during the night. And he had said she need only wake him for a moment and then he could go back to sleep. She took his hand, noting happily that it was warm between hers.
"Aragorn…" she said softly, stroking her fingers across the back of his hand. "Aragorn, wake up."
She saw the dark eyebrows twitch slightly and then the king's eyelids slid open and sleepy grey eyes peered up at her.
"Wake up," she repeated. "It is dawn, and Faramir bid me awaken you."
Aragorn gave her a faint smile, his eyes half closed. "Tell the Captain I am awake, as ordered, and fighting." His eyes slipped shut and he faded back to sleep, leaving Eowyn completely mystified but reassured that she had done her job. She replaced his hand on the coverlet and sat back in the chair, crossing her hands across her belly as the child within twisted and pushed.
"Ooof," She gave a quiet groan. "Not much longer, little one, you are getting enormous." She patted her stomach. It had not been a hard pregnancy, but exceedingly tiring, and she would be relieved when she was finally delivered of this baby and her body was her own again.
The sun rose above the horizon and poured in through the window and she turned her chair slightly to bask in its warmth, her hands splayed across her stomach as she closed her eyes in delight at the feeling.
When Eomer came through the door an hour later he found his sister drowsing in the sun and the King of Gondor lying in bed watching her with a tight, distracted expression on his face. Aragorn made a small gesture to Eomer not to disturb her but she had heard his heavy tread on the floor and opened her eyes.
"My lord!" She looked at Aragorn with dismay. "Why didn't you tell me you were awake?"
"It has only been for a short time," he said quietly. Eowyn looked at him sharply.
"Are you in pain?" She suspected the dose of scutellaria Faramir appeared to have given him last night was wearing off.
Aragorn only gave her a tense one-sided smile, his breathing short and shallow. Eowyn rose and went to the nearby table where she had ingredients for another draught of the sedative waiting. As she prepared it she glared at Eomer, especially his feet. "And you! Why must you stomp around like a horse in summer, chasing flies?"
Eomer only shrugged; he had grown up with her and did not fear her temper one bit. He looked alarmed at Aragorn's suddenly white face, however, and watched with concern as Eowyn offered her medicine to him. "This will help, give it a few minutes." He drank it and then lay still as she fussed with the coverlet. She looked over at Eomer and narrowed her eyes. "Since you are awake, brother, and have made sure the rest of us are too, you can stay here and I will go get dressed and have something to eat." She pulled a clean gown from her closet and then started across the room.
"I am no nursemaid!" Eomer exclaimed. When he saw she was serious and heading for the door, he followed her. "I am in earnest, Eowyn," he said with a worried look, his voice kept low so that Aragorn would not hear. "I cannot stay here with him. What if something happens?"
She stopped at the doorway and turned back, stopping him from following her by pressing a hand against his chest. "Nothing will happen. Just sit with him until I get back. It will only be a few minutes." Seeing his uncertain look she groaned in exasperation. "Get in there." She pushed him gently back into the room before heading down the hall.
Eomer reluctantly retreated back to the bedside and collapsed into the chair. "She's bossy enough when she's not with child," he muttered. He glanced up, hoping Aragorn had not heard him, but although his eyes were still closed and his mouth was tight, it was crooked up at one corner. Heaving out a sigh Eomer looked around the room and saw the parchment Eowyn had placed back on the table. He picked it up and shot a look at Aragorn, who, hearing the rustle, opened his eyes and then raised one eyebrow in consent. Reading down through it Eomer's face grew thoughtful. When he looked up he made no comment, merely returned it to the table behind him and leaned back in the chair, rubbing his chin. "A wise precaution," he finally said, his eyes meeting Aragorn's. "Although I imagine it took some persuasion to get Faramir to actually write it down."
Aragorn gave him a weak nod. "More than you know."
Eomer snorted. "Believe me, I cannot say I know him well, even if he has been married to my sister all these years, but I do know how hard-headed he is." Eomer softened his voice. "I know he loves you, Aragorn, and it cannot have been easy for him to hear you speak of your death, especially when you are – well, I mean - when you nearly -" he floundered, his face reddening.
Aragorn paid him little heed, finally relaxing a little as he felt the pain begin to ease up and only mildly concerned that room had also begun to spin a little. He fixed a fuzzily thoughtful eye on Eomer. "I am certain I owe you my life," he said. "Thank you."
"Uh, you're welcome." Eomer shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. He did not want Aragorn thinking about that night or he might start asking about the others and Eomer wanted to keep the news of the three other men's deaths from him as long as possible. He tried to change the talk to other things.
"Can I give some advice, Aragorn?" He spoke hesitantly, knowing it seemed ridiculous for someone of his age and experience to be offering guidance to Gondor's king. Receiving only a slight grunt as an answer he continued. "As soon as you are better, get your lady wife with child, put some babies in the Citadel of Minas Tirith and you will not have to harass your Steward in the middle of the night." His voice was serious, even if there was the slight lilt of humor beneath it.
"Good counsel," murmured Aragorn hesitantly. "There are…it is not… we need…and time..." He seemed to realize his words were not making sense and gave up, frowning slightly as he struggled to keep his eyes open and on Eomer.
"Hah!" The King of Rohan gave derisive snort. "If you are waiting for the right time, it will not come. It is never a good time, haven't you watched Eowyn and Faramir with all of theirs?" He stretched out in the chair, lacing his hands behind his head. "Lothiriel and I have nearly given up trying to have a private talk, or a quiet meal. But," he suddenly sat up in the chair and looked Aragorn in the eye. "It is your duty to provide for Gondor, Aragorn, and part of that duty is to breed an heir." His face suddenly softened as he continued. "And, in truth, children bring richness to your life, an unexpected richness."
Aragorn made a small sound of agreement. It was taking too much energy to keep up with the conversation and he felt himself drifting again, felt the throbbing ache beginning to dull back as his head and limbs began to feel heavy and unwieldy, and this time he did not fight but let the weight pull him down into oblivion. He dozed off just before Eowyn returned from the kitchen.
When she entered the bedchamber she glared at her brother. "You didn't keep talking when he was trying to rest, did you?"
He had jumped to his feet as soon as she walked through the door and now he was quickly moving to leave the room. "No, I did not," he said. "We only talked a little while." He gave her a threatening frown, which since she had seen it from babyhood, had no effect whatsoever.
"Oh, go and take the boys for a ride," she said, placing the bowl she had carried up from the kitchen on the bedside table as Eomer beat a quick retreat down the hall. When he had gone she sat down on the bed and softly called the king's name. "Aragorn."
His eyes cracked open. "Are you hungry? Can you eat a little bit?" He looked at her hazily and she offered him a sympathetic smile. "I know it's hard, but try." He finally gave her a drowsy nod and moved a little as if to sit up but Eowyn restrained him and merely slipped another pillow behind his head. "No, just lie still. It is only some broth."
She filled the spoon and slipped it into his mouth. The broth was hot and rich and salty with tiny bits of meat in it and it tasted better than any meal he had ever had in his life. " 'S good," he mumbled and she gave a low laugh of pleasure. "It's only beef broth, my lord!" Her expression became serious. "It tastes good because your body needs the salt and the meat, to help build up more blood. Eat as much as you want."
He ate several spoonfuls, even half asleep, until it became impossible for him to keep his eyes open. Eowyn rearranged the pillows again and pulled the blanket up closer around him. He was sound asleep even before she finished, his dark hair spilling across the pillow as the sunshine warmed the room and gave it a golden glow. Pulling clean strips of cloth from a basket of supplies she had brought up that first night, she made a careful inspection of each of his wounds and put on fresh bandages. There were still large blotches of blood on them, and the deepest wound had again soaked through the dressing in a few places, but the gruesome injuries from two nights ago seemed to be clean and beginning to heal and Eowyn gave an inward sigh of relief.
Taking the bowl she walked down the hall toward the stairs, stopping a moment to peek into the guest room where Faramir had crawled into bed. He was also sleeping, but had barely made it to the bed, lying stretched across diagonally rather than straight, clutching a pillow close to him. She crept in and pulled a blanket over him crossways, trying to cover him as much as possible. He muttered slightly before rolling over and falling silent, and she reached out and gave him a gentle caress, resolving that he would sleep his fill today.
Returning to the kitchen she discovered Eomer had taken her at her word and gathered up the boys for a horseback ride. She found them eating breakfast and waiting excitedly as the cook finished packing lunches, all of them talking at once.
"Uncle says for me to bring my bow," Elboron's green eyes were glowing with excitement. "He says if we see any wargs I can kill one."
Eowyn's eyes flew to her brother in alarm and annoyance. "Oh, really?"
Eomer shook his head slightly at her and gave her a look that said she was worried for nothing. "We aren't going near the quarry, don't worry. I doubt if we see anything, but just in case, I'm taking my guards," he reassured her.
"Mother!" Barahir tugged at her skirt. "I don't have to ride the pony, do I? Can't you make Elboron let me ride with him?"
"I get to ride with Uncle." Sam's smug face looked up at her. "He says everyone else must ride themselves." He gave Barahir a look of triumph.
"Now, now." Eowyn sometimes felt overwhelmed when they all wanted her attention at once. She looked down at Sam. "It is nice that you get to ride with your uncle, but do not be so hateful about it or you can stay home." Sam's face fell as her gaze switched to Barahir. "No, I will not make Elboron carry you, you are old enough to ride yourself, and what is wrong with the pony?"
"He's mean." Barahir's brows wrinkled in a frown. "He bites me."
"He bites because when he does then you cry and leave him alone," said Theoden mildly as he pulled a slim leather belt around his waist, checking the small dagger than hung from it. "Make him mind you a few times and he'll stop biting. Right, Eomund?"
Eomund looked up from tucking his breeches into his boots. "Yes, he bit me a lot when I first started riding him." He shrugged. "He's not really bad tempered, just stubborn." He turned to his little brother. "Ride beside me, Barahir, and I'll show you how to discipline him."
The cook appeared and with a gesture of triumph handed a pair of bulging bundles to Eomer. "Enough there to feed an army, my lord."
The King of Rohan looked around him and raised an eyebrow at her. "That's what is here, haven't you noticed?" He ordered the boys to bid their mother goodbye and herded them out the door, then turned back to his sister. "I'll keep them busy for the day, you get some rest, and keep watch over Aragorn." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "And don't let Faramir go to Minas Tirith without me. We'll be back in the afternoon." He headed toward the stables with the boys on his heels, each one clamoring for his attention.
Eowyn watched them go and felt a great swell of love for her brother and his concern for her family. After they were out of sight she wandered out to the sitting room and then onto the veranda. The sun was already beginning to dry up the numerous puddles in the lawn and garden, although she could still hear the rush of the high water in the stream nearby. Eowyn looked up as the house matron came out of the house.
"A sunny day at last, my lady." The woman smiled in approval.
"Ah, Nan, it is lovely, isn't it?" Eowyn grinned back and stretched her arms toward the sky, feeling the warmth. A sudden strong kick inside her made her jump and rub her stomach tenderly. "This one is just about ready, I think."
Nan gave her a worried look. "You need to take care, my lady, and rest. You've been on your feet far too much these last few days, and you've not been sleeping like you should."
Eowyn sighed. "It cannot be helped." She looked around and went to settle down in one of the chairs nearby. "I'll sit here and enjoy the sunshine for a moment, Nan. Can you find someone to stay with the king, in case he should awaken and need something?"
Nan gave a vigorous nod. "Of course." She patted Eowyn's shoulder. "Just relax and enjoy yourself." She swept off into the house.
Eowyn did sit and rest for a while, but her naturally restless nature had her up and moving long before Nan thought was appropriate. She had taken care of the household duties, gone through the baby clothes thoroughly one last time and even taken a short nap, at Nan's insistence, before noon. At lunchtime she ate her own meal quickly, finding everything tasted marvelous, before taking a tray and heading upstairs to relieve the older laundress who had been entrusted to keep watch over Aragorn.
The woman bobbed to her feet instantly when Eowyn pushed the door open. "Milady."
Eowyn greeted her as she put the tray on the table. "Hello, Lareth." She looked down at the king. "How is he?"
"He's slept the whole time, milady." The woman's brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled warmly down at Aragorn.
"Good." Eowyn thanked her before sending her on her way and sitting down to gently wake Aragorn. "Aragorn, wake up. Time to eat something."
The king's eyes opened slowly and he looked at Eowyn with surprise. "Didn't I do that already?"
She chuckled. "That was hours ago, my lord." She gestured toward the tray on the table. "This time I have not only some broth, but some stewed apples as well." She had had the cook ransack the pantry for the last of the apples, remembering the king's fondness for the sweet dish.
Aragorn gave her a weak smile and looked at the tray. "I'm not really hungry," he said apologetically. Eowyn smiled in understanding.
"I suppose not," she said. "But you must eat, it will help you feel better in the end." She saw his eyes stray and glance out the window at the sunny day and she reached out and took his hand. "You will feel better, Aragorn, I promise. It will just take some time." She gave him a gentle pat on the arm and he sighed. Eowyn started stacking the pillows behind him to make a backrest, talking but without looking at him. She had found this to be a highly successful tactic with Faramir.
"You have been spoiled, Aragorn." She could see the curious look on his face but made no comment. "You have had long years without illness or injury, when so many others have not." She helped him slide up the mattress, mere inches, to lean against the pillows. Seeing the cold sweat break out on his forehead she waited a moment, letting him adjust to the new position and made a quick inspection of the bandage over the deep cut. It was slightly bloodied but not alarmingly so. "All right?" she asked, hearing his breath coming in short gasps. He gave a short nod, closing his eyes a moment and swallowing hard. When his breathing had steadied he opened his eyes and she took the bowl and dipped the spoon, holding it before him. He looked at her, slightly uncomfortable, only dimly remembering earlier when she had fed him the broth.
"I can feed myself, Eowyn."
Eowyn looked dubious but dutifully returned the spoon to the bowl and placed it on the coverlet before him.
Aragorn reached for the spoon only to find his hand trembling and unwilling to do what he told it to. It took three tries to get his fingers to wrap around the handle, and when he tried lifting it from the bowl it shook so badly the liquid it held spilled out onto the bedclothes. He found his head beginning to ache from the tension of concentrating and finally let the spoon fall back into the bowl and collapsed against the pillows, panting from the effort.
Eowyn gave him a gentle smile of commiseration as she picked up the bowl and returned it to the tray. "It's harder than it looks, when you are unwell, isn't it?" She saw him catch his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a groan and gave him a minute to compose himself before she continued. "You are going to have to rest and take things easy, and it will be hard for you."
He looked thoughtful; keeping his eyes fixed on the coverlet as she blotted up the spilled broth, straightened the blankets and then laid the tray across his lap. Eowyn waited until he raised his eyes to meet hers, but she was caught off guard by the dark shadow of despondency she saw in them when he did. He quickly looked away, but she recognized what she had seen there and swiftly took both of his hands in hers. "My lord, do not be afraid. You WILL get well. This is just a difficult time, right now."
"I hate to feel so – weak and helpless," he said with a self-deprecating twist of his mouth, still looking away from her. "So – " He stopped, embarrassed at the catch in his voice.
"So useless?" Eowyn squeezed his hands encouragingly. He made no answer, merely nodded. She smiled knowingly. "Ahh, Aragorn, don't you think I know what it is to lie abed, drained, exhausted, unable to care for myself?"
"Depending on others," he said in a low voice.
Eowyn kept silent and released his hands to rest on the bed, reaching down to fill the spoon and offer it to him. He opened his mouth and ate, his eyes watching her like those of the deer she saw sometimes in the garden, watchful, guarded. She continued spooning the broth into him, alternating with occasional bits of apple.
"You don't like that, depending on others, do you?" she said after a while.
He let his head and shoulders relax and leaned back against the pillows behind him. "It's difficult," he said slowly. "It does not come easily to me." He shook his head at her proffered spoon and lay still as if to rest from the double exertions of talking and eating. It was well past noon and the sun no longer poured in the window, although he could see how bright it was outside.
Eowyn was thoughtful for a moment and had to admit Aragorn was one of the most self-contained people she had ever known. It was such a part of his character that she had never questioned it, never stopped to think about the way he was always the one others turned to for help, not the other way around. She knew he wholly trusted and confided only in Arwen and a small circle of friends; Faramir and herself, Eomer, his foster brothers the Elvish twins, perhaps a few others, but even that seemed to be mostly in affairs of state and government; rarely personal matters. To be now at the mercy at his own physical limitations was something quite unfamiliar for him. She sat back a little and rubbed the small of her back, thinking.
"Well, surely you've been taken care of some time in life," she said, pursing her lips as she looked at him with an appraising glance. "When you were a child, perhaps?"
He seemed to consider her words a moment and his eyes grew distant and she saw the corners of his mouth turn up. "I suppose so. My mother cared for me…" His voice faded as he was caught up in some long ago memory.
Eowyn saw his face soften and felt the tiniest pang of jealousy. She, like Faramir, had only vague and hazy memories of her own mother, many of them tinged with sadness. "If you have happy memories of your mother, my lord, I envy you."
"She would lie down at night with me, when I was very small." Aragorn let his eyes slip closed so he could see the past better. "And she would sing." He whispered a few words of a song in Elvish "Tiro, El eria e mor, U estel." (Look, a star rises out of the darkness, there is hope) When he opened his eyes he looked uncomfortable. "That was what I was called then, long ago in Rivendell, Estel. It means hope." He was silent for a moment, lost in the past.
"I know." Eowyn, seeing the soft glow in his eyes, could not begrudge him his memories and she smiled. "There, you see, you have been taken care of before, and it was not so terrible, Estel." She said the name teasingly, seeking to break the melancholy that threatened to come over him and she succeeded. Aragorn gave a little laugh and nodded.
"You are right. It was rather nice, actually." This time he opened his mouth when she offered a spoonful of apples and soon he had finished both them and the broth. Eowyn returned the tray to the bedside table and rearranged the pillows for him to lie down again, then straightened the coverlet around his shoulders. As she stood up to go Aragorn caught her hand in his. She stopped and looked at him expectantly.
"Thank you," he said softly. She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. "Be patient, Estel, there is always hope. Let us take care of you, at least for a while." With another gentle squeeze she turned away and busied herself about the room, building up the fire and straightening the pitcher and cups on the table before she picked up the tray and started for the door. "I'll be back in a moment, try to-" her words faded when she saw Aragorn was already asleep again. She quietly left the room, leaving the door partly open.
Further down the hall she looked in on Faramir. The afternoon sun had warmed the room a great deal and he lay on the bed wrapped in the blanket she had covered him with earlier, his face flushed and his dark hair damp with sweat. Eowyn left the tray in the hall and tiptoed in, trying to pull the blanket off, but he had rolled over in his sleep and it was now twisted around him. After two or three gentle tugs she gave up and turned back to the door.
"What time is it?" Faramir's muffled voice came from the pillow.
Eowyn turned back and sat on the edge of the bed. Pulling the blanket away from his face she leaned down to kiss his sweaty cheek. "It's after noon. Do you want some lunch?"
"You should not have let me sleep so long." He sat up and yawned and stretched before memory rushed back and he snapped around to look at her. "How is he?"
"He's doing well," she said. "And I let you sleep because you were so tired." She took her hand and smoothed back the hair that had stuck to his forehead. "He's been awake a little, and has eaten. When I woke him at sunrise he said to tell 'the Captain' that he was fighting." Eowyn wrinkled her forehead at her husband. "I guess that means something to you?" Faramir looked thoughtful and then gave a little private grin but said nothing and Eowyn made a sound of disappointment. "Fine, you don't have to tell me." She stood up as he did the same, rolling his head to work the kinks out of his neck.
"Just a promise he made me last night," said Faramir. "I'll tell you about it on the way to the kitchen."
On their way down the stairs Eowyn called for Nan and sent her to stay with Aragorn so that she could sit and talk to Faramir as he ate. He told her of the previous night's events and she brought him up to date on the morning's happenings. Faramir looked at her over the edge of his cup, his eyes searching her face.
"Do you truly think he is going to be all right?" he asked her. Eowyn took a deep breath.
"I believe so." She glanced away for a moment, then looked back. "I have no experience with this kind of serious injury, and I will rest easier when you have sent a healer back from the city, or he is in the Houses of Healing. But, so far as I can see, the bleeding has slowed, nearly stopped, the wounds are not infected, he's eating," she shrugged. "It appears to me that he is mending."
Faramir let his eyes close a moment and covered them with his hand, then rubbed his temples with his fingers as his shoulders slumped with relief. Eowyn reached across the table and pulled his hand away from his face. Neither of them spoke as she laid her hand across his cheek but they each could read the relief in the other's eyes.
"I have to get to Minas Tirith." Faramir drank the last of his tea and stood up. "Surely the water has receded enough today."
"Eomer said wait for him," said Eowyn. "They should be back soon."
Faramir nodded. "I'll go get changed and pack my things again," he said. "Hopefully we can get there this time."
By the time Faramir was packed the riding party had returned, tired and grimy. Eowyn heard the thudding of hooves and she and Faramir went out to the back of the house to meet them, calling out greetings as the boys each tumbled from their horses and began to talk. Eowyn lowered herself to sit on a mounting block as she tried to listen to all five excited voices simultaneously.
Elboron had failed to find any wargs but he did present his mother with a brace of conies and grinned happily when she said to turn them over to the cook with instructions to prepare them for supper. Barahir showed her the set of pony teeth marks on the calf of his leg, and then demonstrated the whipping skills learned from Eomund with a small green branch. Eowyn noted that the pony did seem noticeably more docile that usual, standing before the stables with his head down. He had only fallen off once, Barahir informed her happily. Sam was passed down from before Eomer's saddle, sound asleep, and only woke long enough to cuddle up into his father's arms, Faramir absently stroking his cheek against the boy's soft blond hair as he listened to the others.
Eomund triumphantly pulled a small red and black striped snake from a small pouch on his saddle, explaining to his mother how lucky he had been to catch it, as Eowyn made her best effort not to recoil and even stroked the creature a bit. Theoden, always the quiet one, waited until his brothers had subsided before he came forward to show his parents his treasure. His grey eyes bright with anticipation, he slowly opened his fist to display a small white carving, a miniature horse no bigger than a walnut.
"Theo!" Eowyn bent over to examine the tiny figure more closely. "Where did you find such a lovely thing?"
"There was a mudslide, and it uncovered a house." He looked at his mother and she could see his excitement.
"It looks like an ancient sod hut," said Eomer, swinging down from his horse. "You would never have known it was there, I imagine you have ridden past it a hundred times, Faramir. We looked around, but found nothing else."
"I found the snake!" Eomund reminded his uncle, who smiled in agreement. "Yes, I forgot. Yes, you did."
Faramir squatted down beside Theoden, shifting Sam onto his shoulder and rubbed his fingers gently over the little horse. "It must be very old, Theo. It appears to be carved from the same white stone as Minas Tirith. Some special token perhaps, or a child's toy." His own grey eyes met his son's and Eowyn smiled at how much they were alike.
"Can we go back and look around some more, Father?" Theoden looked at his father questioningly. "You would like it, too."
"There's nothing there," said Eomer with an exasperated look. "Just broken crockery and bits of wood." He saw a look pass between Theoden and Faramir that spoke volumes about their interest in such things and rolled his eyes.
"Yes, we'll go back," said Faramir. "But not for a while yet, I must go to the city." He stood up and glanced at Eomer. "Has the water gone down enough? Can we get to Minas Tirith?"
Eomer nodded. "I believe so."
Faramir handed Sam to Elboron with instructions to put him to bed for a nap and then join his father at the White Company's barracks. As he started off to the stables to have his horse saddled he called his sons to him and could be heard giving instructions as to their behavior and his expectations in his absence. Eowyn watched him go with a smile and her happiness brought a smile of his own to her brother's face. "He's a good father," said Eomer, suddenly missing his own children. Eowyn leaned against him and sighed.
"Yes." She rubbed a sore spot across her stomach and Eomer frowned as he looked at her belly.
"Although he seems intent on producing his own company of sons."
His sister laughed. "I have some say in that too, you know, and we wanted every one of them. Anyway," she addressed her stomach now. "This one is a girl, aren't you?" Eomer shook his head at her.
"You said that the last three times, Eowyn." He laughed at her warning glare and shrugged his shoulders, then turned to follow Faramir and the boys to the stables.
"Aragorn." Aragorn drowsily opened his eyes to find Faramir standing beside the bed.
"Eomer and I are leaving for the city," said Faramir. "The sun has shone all day, the water should be down enough that we can get through." He moved to seat himself on the bed and looked at the king. "I will send the Queen to you, and a healer from the city."
Aragorn nodded and his eyes strayed to the table where the parchment Faramir had written out last night had been lying.
"I have it." Faramir knew what he was looking for. "I will have it filed in the Hall of Records upon my arrival."
Aragorn nodded with satisfaction and reached out his hand. Instantly Faramir took it and held it between his.
"I leave Gondor in your capable hands, my lord Steward." Faramir gave him a piercing look, trying to decide if Aragorn was purposely repeating the words he had used when he had awakened yesterday, but after close scrutiny decided he was not, and Faramir wondered for a minute just how much of that conversation Aragorn remembered. He bowed his head slightly.
"Yes, my lord," he said. "I will await your return to the city." Impulsively he bent and kissed Aragorn's hand. Aragorn slid his other hand up to clasp the back of Faramir's neck and rubbed gently, then placed it on the dark head like a benediction.
"You have my love, Faramir, my trust and my thanks," he said in a quiet voice. Faramir raised his head and their eyes met. "I will see you in Minas Tirith soon," Aragorn said, dropping his hands back to the bed as Faramir stood up.
Faramir waited outside the bedroom as Eomer said his goodbyes to Aragorn and soon the two of them were riding away, accompanied by Eomer's guards and members of Faramir's own White Company, as well as Elboron, who had been given permission to ride as far as Osgiliath with them. Eowyn waved goodbye from the veranda along with the younger boys, each of them seething with jealousy over Elboron's good fortune at being the eldest.
"It's not fair." Eomund's dark brows were one solid line above his eyes they were pulled down so tightly. "Elboron gets to do everything."
Eowyn laughed as she ushered them all into the house. "He's the oldest, your turn will come. Now, since you all were permitted to skip lessons this morning to go riding with your uncle, you may all spend a couple of hours before dinner working on your schoolwork." She was unswayed by the chorus of groans that rose up around her. "Go get your books, you may study in the sitting room. Quietly! Sam is sleeping!" The pounding of their feet eased slightly on the stairs.
Eowyn followed them up the stairs and entered her bedchamber. Aragorn was awake, watching the fire in the grate and looking thoughtful.
"How are you feeling, my lord?" She approached the bed and he gave her a smile, slightly weary, but sincere.
"Tired…dizzy… sore," he said.
"All normal, considering," she said. She prepared another cupful of healing herbs, slightly lessening the amount of the sedative she had been using. After she had given it to him, she stood by the bed, looking thoughtful. "Do you feel like reading? No…" She immediately rejected the idea as too demanding for both his strength and his alertness. "Or perhaps you would like someone to read aloud? I myself am not very talented at it, but Theoden is an excellent reader, he puts so much feeling into it."
Aragorn nodded, his face lighting up with interest. She asked if he had any special request and when he told her what he wanted she assured him a copy was in Faramir's library and disappeared down the hall. In a few minutes there was a hesitant knock at the door and Theoden entered, nervously clutching a book to him.
"Mother says I'm to read to you," he said from the doorway. Aragorn motioned him in with a slight tilt of his head. The boy crossed the room and carefully sat down in the chair beside the bed. His grey eyes flicked over to Aragorn and then back to the book. "This is one of my favorite stories," he said.
"Mine, too." Aragorn smiled, feeling pleasantly drowsy and comfortable.
Theoden gave him a smile back, the exact same slow, shy smile the king had seen on his Steward in unguarded moments, and began.
"The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.
TO BE CONTINUED
Notes:
Tiro, El eria e mor, U estel (Look a star rises out of the darkness, there is hope). (This is a completely invented song, made up of bits of songs on a lovely website with music and words in Elvish and English from songs used in the movies, called www.arwen-undomniel.com.)
Of course, the story Theoden is reading to Aragorn is the beginning of the song of Luthien, the elf maiden who loved a mortal, Beren. Aragorn sings it to the hobbits in the Fellowship of the Ring (the entire song in the book and a tiny part of it in the extended edition of the movie). In the appendix of the Lord of the Rings, it says that when Aragorn first met Arwen he was singing this song and thought for a moment she was Luthien come to life before his eyes, and that he loved her from that hour. It seemed to me that would be something he would find comforting when he was injured.
Again - Thanks to Raksha for excellent beta'ing and suggestions, and for long e-mailed discussions on the self-sufficiency of Aragorn!