Hope and Joy, and Faramir Once Again
The next few days passed peacefully. Arwen said nothing more to Eowyn about their conversation on the veranda, but it seemed to Eowyn that there had been some sort of decision made on her part. There had been no more tears, and often when Eowyn passed by the bedchamber and Aragorn was awake he and Arwen could be seen talking intently. Eowyn could see already how having her near had improved his spirits and aided his recovery, and the soft light in both of their eyes when they spoke to each other made her conscious of Faramir's absence all the more.
He had sent her a letter, written the first evening of his arrival and Arwen had carried it for him, although she had forgotten to give it to Eowyn until several hours after she had reached Ithilien. Only after she had seen Aragorn and been assured of his recovery had she remembered and handed it over to Eowyn with numerous apologies.
It had mostly let her know he had safely reached the city, given her a short description of the flood damage that matched what Elboron had told her and subtly apologized for not being with her. Eowyn couldn't help but hold the parchment with the familiar beloved handwriting against her breast.
He had promised to write every day, even if only a short note, but when it started raining again the day after Arwen's arrival, Eowyn knew there would be no letters any time soon. The blue-grey clouds pushed in so heavily they seemed likely to scrape their bellies against the tops of the trees and once the rain started it came down in sheets, the drops hitting so hard they bounced up again from the ground while a pale mist hovered around everything. Within a few hours the streams and small creeks that had been slowly draining the land were filled again and roaring out of their banks and Eowyn had stood dejectedly at the window in the sitting room, staring out at the gloom. Faramir would write, she knew, but no courier would be risked crossing the swollen creeks or the perilous bridge in Osgiliath. With a stifled sigh she straightened her shoulders as though preparing for battle. Only a small annoyance, she told herself. Soon a rider would appear with several letters, and after that, at some later time, Faramir himself would return home. She could wait.
Meanwhile, Mellanar meticulously cared for the king, dosing him with healing mixtures and gradually decreasing the sedatives as Aragorn regained his strength and was able to move about a little more freely. After three days, he gave his permission for the king to sit up for short periods of time. The sun, as though in celebration, put in an appearance for a moment. The healer also spent time fussing over Eowyn, much to her spoken annoyance and private delight.
She had been surprised at how much more rested and relaxed she felt after sleeping in her own bed a few nights and relinquishing her nursing duties to Arwen and privately determined to follow more of Mellanar's freely given advice as closely as possible. This had turned out to be more difficult than she had originally thought, however, as Mellanar was a great believer in frequent naps for expectant mothers, along with several meals a day and early bedtimes, and very much against long walks in the afternoon. Eowyn laughingly explained to the healer that she was following the same pattern she had with her previous five babies, and had never suffered ill effects. He grudging gave in on most things, allowing that "mayhap the women of Rohan are less delicate than those of Gondor." Still, his concern and care was something Eowyn enjoyed immensely, since having her pregnant and ready to deliver had become all too common for most of her household. Only Faramir had always treated her so carefully in her last few weeks and she found herself missing him immensely.
The rain eventually slowed and stopped and the promised rider had arrived on the fourth day after Faramir had left Ithilien, with several short notes and one long letter crammed into a leather pouch. The short notes had been penned in haste throughout the day or late at night, Eowyn could easily see from their abruptness, and the smudges across the pages. It seemed the flooding on the Pelennor had been extremely bad in several places and Faramir's and Eomer's time was being devoured by the planning and implementation of rescue operations, the restoration of farms and homesteads swept away by the turbulent waters and the distribution of relief supplies. The letter had been written just before the courier had departed Minas Tirith, questioning Eowyn about the king's health and full of concern for her own. She sent the man to the kitchen to eat before returning to the city. Knowing Faramir would be waiting for her answer, and fearing fresh flooding, she immediately began to write her answer.
She wrote on the veranda, enjoying the weak sunshine and watching the boys in the yard before her as they happily tormented a pair of large turtles that had been washed from their hole by the rushing stream. Eowyn considered them as they argued among themselves, smiling at their different personalities. While Theoden and Barahir would rather have studied the ungainly creatures in a scholarly fashion, Sam merely wanted to see how fast they could move and how far they could get in each of their unsuccessful escape attempts. Eomund had his knife out and was trying to hold onto one long enough to scratch his initial into the shell, and although Elboron had announced that he was not interested in the animals, Eowyn noticed he stayed close, supposedly to supervise the younger boys, and was often pointing out some interesting detail concerning the turtles to one or another of his brothers.
Eowyn filled the letter with news of home, hoping to relieve some of the stress that was evident even in Faramir's carefully chosen words, thinking the small details of everyday life would help take his mind from his duties at least for a while. She wrote about Aragorn's convalescence and her own good health, making every effort to set her husband's mind at ease. She was trying to describe the scene with the turtles before her when Nan suddenly appeared with a hot drink and a heavy shawl to wrap around her.
"Really, my lady, you should not even be out here in the chill air," she clucked reprovingly as she laid the warm material across Eowyn's shoulders. Eowyn took an appreciative sip of the warm, spiced cider and gazed up at her house matron.
"Did Mellanar send you out here with this?"
Nan looked shocked. "What? No, why would you think that?" Eowyn noticed her eyes shifted, however, as she protested, and laughed.
"I don't mind, Nan, honestly. It has been rather a nice change these last few days, after those before."
The house matron smiled down at her mistress. "You've been resting, like you should be, now that he's here to take care of the king, and in truth, the queen is the one who sent me out here." Eowyn nodded in appreciation, then frowned as the sun slid behind a dark cloud.
"You are right, it is too chilly out here," she said, gathering up her letter and calling to the boys to let the turtles go and come inside. There were groans but they trooped in behind her, leaving a trail of muddy footprints through the entryway that had Eowyn and Nan shaking their heads in despair. Hearing a chuckle, Eowyn looked up to see Arwen coming down the stairs.
"You'll be able to plant a garden IN the house before they're through," she said with a laugh. As she reached the bottom of the stairs she motioned the other women to her. "Aragorn says he will go mad if he has to stay in bed much longer, and Mellanar says he absolutely forbids him to move about yet." Her blue eyes looked just a trifle panicked, then took on a conspiratorial look. "I wondered, could the boys eat supper in our room tonight? Just for a little while, to keep him occupied?"
Nan said nothing but her face betrayed her thoughts. Eowyn could see her house matron weighing the idea of all five boys in the king's room with plates of hot food, cups, serving dishes. It was obviously a disaster in the making. Nan had opened her mouth to say as much when suddenly Eowyn had an idea and interrupted her.
"Field rations!"
Arwen and Nan looked at her as though she had lost her mind, so she quickly explained the meal she had delivered to the boys in the library a few days ago. A smile slowly spread across Arwen's face. "Perfect!" she said. "He can re-live his Ranger days." She and Nan went to the kitchen to make plans as Eowyn hurriedly finished her letter and sent the courier on his way.
That evening at the agreed upon hour a disciplined knock was sharply rapped on Aragorn's bedchamber door and each of the Steward's sons presented himself to the king in his own self-styled Ranger outfit, ranging from Elboron's elaborate leather tunic, a gift from Eomer for his twelfth birthday, to Sam's several sizes too big hand-me-down woolen cloak, dragging the floor behind him as he stumbled over an old scabbard of Faramir's, wrapped three times about his small waist. Each of the boys carried a traveling pack filled with his contribution to the feast that soon was laid out across a ragged cloth thrown across the foot of the bed, and the White Company's barracks had been raided in order to provide everyone with a small waterskin to carry across their shoulder.
Aragorn grinned with pleasure at the boys' clothing, and ate the plain food that was unpacked from the various leather sacks and pouches with good appetite. The younger boys heeded the threats their mother had whispered in the hallway and refrained from getting on the bed and jostling the king, while Elboron and Theoden, Eowyn was proud to see, discussed riding and archery practice politely with him.
It took just a little under an hour before Eowyn could tell that Aragorn was tiring, and she raised an eyebrow at Arwen, who had also noticed his attention had begun to fade. Quickly packing up the food, Eowyn had her sons make their farewells and sent them to finish their meal elsewhere. In a moment's generosity, she gave them permission to eat together in Elboron's room, such an unusual location that they all went without protest.
As she left the bedchamber she reached down to take Aragorn's hand and he smiled up at her. "I'm so glad you are feeling better," she said with a slight squeeze. "I told you there was hope, didn't I?" He squeezed her hand back and even though she could see the fatigue on his face she could see the returning strength, also. She smiled and followed the boys from the room.
After they all had gone the room seemed strangely quiet.
"They fill up the room," said Aragorn and Arwen smiled in agreement. She silently moved about gathering up the remnants of their meal, keeping watch on Aragorn as he relaxed beneath the coverlet and let his eyes slide shut. When she had finished, she pulled the curtains closed and blew out several of the candles that had been lighting the room. In the semi-darkness she curled up beside her husband and they lay quietly for a long time. Arwen was sure Aragorn had fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke into the shadowy room.
"What you said this morning, are you sure?" His uncertain voice held worry, fear, and something that sounded very much to Arwen like nervous excitement. She smiled and nodded, even though he could not see it, and pressed gently up against him.
"Yes." She moved slightly and drew his head down to rest on her shoulder and brushed a kiss on his cheek. "After having them all in here tonight, more than ever, I am sure. As soon as you are well." He nestled against her and was soon sleeping peacefully as she let her fingers play through his hair and hummed an ancient song, a song of love and hope.
Arwen looked up from her sewing and smiled as she watched Aragorn move his finger across the map that lay before him. "It is along this line of mountains…" He was seated in a lounge-chair on the veranda in the fading sunshine of early evening, surrounded by all of Faramir's sons.
"Legolas says it was filled with orcs." Elboron had edged closer to see the map and his voice was low, as if speaking of the foul creatures might cause them to unexpectedly appear.
"It was," affirmed Aragorn. "Thousands, it seemed." He raised his eyes from the worn parchment and met each of the five pairs that encircled him. "Your uncle Boromir killed several of them, and when we reached the bridge and they followed us, he blew a blast on the great horn he carried. The sound of it echoing halted even the Balrog for a moment." The king paused, suddenly carried back to that terrible day when the small group of travelers had been pursued through the smothering blackness of Moria.
"I've never even seen an orc," complained Eomund, his face clearly showing he felt cheated by this lack. Aragorn, pulled back from his memories, laughed and reached over the tousle his dark hair.
"You should be glad, Eomund." His face changed and he leaned back in the chair and gave each of them a measured look. "That is why we fought, your father, your uncles, and all the rest of us. So that you would never have to." His eyes grew distant as he stared at the woods below the house. "So our lands would be safe, and children could grow up in peace." Eomund made a sound of annoyance and seeing his words did not placate the boy Aragorn gave him a pat on the back. "Don't worry, there are still plenty of them, hidden in dark places. One day you can go orc hunting."
Arwen stood up. "Boys." Unconsciously she said the word like Eowyn. After only eight days in Ithilien she was already beginning to mimic their mother's voice whenever she spoke to them. "It will soon be time for dinner, go and wash up." Instantly they gathered up the map and went into the house. They might groan and argue with their mother occasionally, but not a word was raised against their queen. Arwen watched them go before turning to Aragorn.
"You tell a story like a lore master," she said admiringly. "I don't think they even gave a thought to their mother."
"Elboron did," answered Aragorn. "I saw him looking up at the window more than once." He swung his leg stiffly over the side of the lounge. "He knew this morning when you sent them off to the stables with Bergil."
"He's the oldest," reminded Arwen. "He's been through it before. I'm just glad Mellanar was here," she said with a look of relief. "It all happened so fast, and I think Nan would have had her hands full without him!"
Aragorn laughed. "But none of the boys seemed impressed."
His wife rolled her eyes. "Oh, boys, they aren't interested in babies. Once they knew Eowyn was all right, they lost interest. I'll let them visit for a moment after they eat. Maybe by then they will be more appreciative." She reached down and helped Aragorn up from the chair. He moved slowly, leaning his weight on her as he got to his feet. After he stood up he was still for a moment and she put her arms around his waist, worried he might be light-headed. This was only the third day Mellanar had permitted him to be up and walking for short periods of time and his first venture down the stairs and onto the veranda. "All right?"
Aragorn looked at her, his thoughts elsewhere. "What? Oh, yes." His eyes strayed back to the road leading up to the house. "I was hoping he'd be here by now." Arwen followed his gaze down the road and then moved to gauge the last sliver of the setting sun dipping below the horizon.
"He still has time, it won't be full dark for a while yet."
"You sent the messenger this morning, as soon as her labor started." Aragorn's voice sounded slightly irritable and his wife gave him a careful hug and laughed out loud. He looked down at her, perplexed and she tried to explain.
"For once you are the one sitting around waiting for someone to come home. It is really quite amusing." He frowned but then gave her as embarrassed look as he saw her point. Arwen turned toward the house to help him inside. "Be patient. The rider has to get there, give the news, preparations have to be made, then he has to ride back. He'll be here, if not tonight, tomorrow."
They had taken only a few steps when the sound of pounding hooves came to them through the dusk. Immediately both their heads turned to the direction of the noise and they saw Faramir's big bay horse emerge from the trees and charge across the meadow, its sweat-covered chest attesting to the haste of its rider.
"See," said Arwen complacently.
"It's a good thing Eomer gave him that horse," Aragorn observed quietly. "It's got the strength of a cave troll. He probably ran it all the way from Minas Tirith." He frowned. "Did he ride alone? Not even one guard with him?"
"They don't have Rohirric horses, he no doubt outran them," said Arwen. "They'll be here after dark." Aragorn gave a little chuckle of agreement.
They waited on the veranda until Faramir reined the horse to a slithering stop just at the bottom of the steps. He leaped down from the saddle and took the steps two at a time, rushing past them a few feet in the twilight before he realized who he had passed and skidded to a halt.
"My lord!" Faramir's face was a mixture of emotions; delight at seeing Aragorn up and about, concern for Eowyn, and uncertainty over whether or not he could politely pass up the king and queen and go see his wife. "You look well-"
The king shook his head and waved Faramir toward the door. "Stop. Don't waste your time here. Go see to your wife."
Without even answering Faramir immediately turned on his heel and continued his headlong rush up the stairs. Arwen and Aragorn smiled to each other as they followed much more slowly. They entered the house and were passing the sitting room when Arwen could feel Aragorn's body beginning to tense slightly. She immediately steered him toward a chair. "Sit down a minute. The steps will take some time." He only nodded jerkily, glad to have something solid to rest on. Arwen stepped back and considered. "I think I'll go get Mellanar to help get you upstairs."
"No!" Aragorn gritted his teeth. "Just let me rest a while." She quietly agreed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and letting him lean against her as he took several deep breaths and waited for his heart to stop pounding.
Meanwhile, when he reached the door of his and Eowyn's bedchamber, Faramir had forced himself to stop, not wanting to frighten or disturb her by bursting in like a madman. He took a deep breath, telling himself it was ridiculous for a man with five children already to be so nervous and excited about the sixth. It didn't help, however, and when he opened the door and saw Eowyn's wan face turn toward him from the bed he rushed across the room.
"Eowyn!" He leaned over and kissed her cheeks, her mouth, her forehead, as his hands stroked the thick blond braid hanging over her shoulder. She smiled up at him as Nan fussed over the cradle at the foot of the bed.
"Are you well?" he asked, stroking her face gently with his fingers. "Wasn't it too early? Is everything - are you truly all right?" She nodded.
"Everything, and everyone, is fine. I'm just tired." Her green eyes twinkled and she gave him a pleased grin. "We have broken your streak of boys at last, my love," she said, nodding behind him.
When he turned around Nan handed him a tiny bundle and Faramir's heart was instantly lost. Huge grey eyes peered up at him from under a head full of black fuzz as little pink lips puckered and pursed. "A girl?" he asked and Nan dipped her head in confirmation. Carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed Faramir held his daughter before him and gazed down at her.
"She's beautiful," he whispered. He unwrapped the blanket a bit and looked at her miniature feet and hands. Had the boys ever been this small? He was sure they had not. She was the tiniest thing he had ever seen. Her grey eyes regarded him soberly for a moment before they squeezed shut and she began to make soft mewling sounds.
"My lord?" Nan's voice interrupted his worshipful examination and he turned to her only to be cautiously offered another small parcel wrapped in blankets. Faramir looked at Nan and then at Eowyn, his face filling with confusion, then astonishment. Eowyn could hold back any longer and began giggling.
"Here," she said, taking the first bundle from him as Nan placed the second in his hands. Another set of grey eyes, but these ones set under blond brows already pulled together in a ferocious frown; this miniscule bottom lip sucked in and working furiously as the baby's face began to turn red and her own reedy cry rose to mingle with her sister's.
"Two?" Faramir said weakly.
Eowyn's laughter rang out. "Two. You have outdone yourself, Faramir."
Faramir's mouth hung open for a split second and Eowyn laughed again at the unusual sight of seeing her husband totally dumbfounded. Reaching back to collect the first little one from Eowyn, Faramir gathered both babies in his arms and held them close, looking back and forth between them. "They are so small," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss on the head of the blond, whose cries instantly quieted.
"They only had half the room," Nan said with a smile.
Faramir raised his eyes to look over the babies' heads at Eowyn. "Are you truly well? Are they well? Was it not worse because they were two?"
Eowyn shook her head. "They are perfect, just small, and Mellanar was here, he has birthed twins before. It was no worse than any of the others."
"They just came early," said Nan. "And in a rush." She and Eowyn laughed.
Faramir moved up on the bed and placed a baby in each of Eowyn's arms, then sat back and regarded the scene before him. She raised her eyes and they grinned at each other in idiotic delight.
"We only chose one girl's name, didn't we?" Faramir asked. "We'll need another, now." They had decided years ago to name a daughter Theodwyn after Eowyn's mother, but the succession of boys had never given them an opportunity. Now Eowyn looked down at her daughters and then back to her husband.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to name them something rather different."
He tilted his head at her, his grey eyes bright with curiosity. "What?"
"I'd like to name them Estel and Alasse." Eowyn watched Faramir's face, trying to gauge his reaction as he considered the names carefully.
"Estel and Alasse, Hope and Joy." Faramir nodded his head and smiled. "Perfect." He leaned down and kissed each of them, then Eowyn. "The king will be honored." A partially stifled yawn broke across Eowyn's face and Faramir gathered the babies up and gave them back to Nan, who placed them together in the cradle and then left the room to give them some time together.
Faramir turned and scooted up on the bed to put his arms around Eowyn and she leaned against him, her head resting on his chest. "I have missed you so," she said sleepily.
"And I, you," he answered in a soft voice, his hand smoothing back the hair that had escaped her braid. He kissed the top of her head and they sat motionless, Faramir watching the last of the evening light disappear through the window as Eowyn drowsed against him.
"I think Arwen was surprised." Eowyn's comment startled him; he had thought she was asleep.
"Why?" He looked down. Eowyn was still cuddled against him, her eyes closed even as she spoke.
"It was not as horrible as she thought it would be, I suppose." Eowyn's mouth quirked up on one side.
"Did she expect it to be horrible?"
"I think so." Quietly Eowyn told him what she had learned from the queen during the talk on the veranda several days ago. "My heart broke for both of them, Faramir."
Faramir was silent, trying to imagine his own feelings if Eowyn would have ever lost a child, or if he had had no children at all. He remembered the several times he had urged Aragorn to produce an heir for Gondor, advice he knew had also been freely given by Eomer and Imrahil on several different occasions. Aragorn had never responded with anything other than a polite smile and a few bland words. His silence became more understandable with Eowyn's words and Faramir felt a stab of guilt.
A soft tap sounded at the door and Eowyn sighed and shifted back against the pillow so that Faramir could move from the bed to open it. Aragorn and Arwen had finally made their way up the stairs and entered the room at a snail's pace. Faramir could see small beads of sweat on the king's forehead and that his weight was resting a little heavier on Arwen after the long climb.
"He insisted on seeing them again before he went back to bed," Arwen said with a note of indulgence in her voice.
Quickly Faramir lifted the babies from the cradle and carried them across the room. Aragorn smiled and brushed a finger that trembled slightly with fatigue across each tiny pink cheek. He looked up at Faramir and smiled, and now that he had heard Eowyn's story Faramir could see the faint shadow of longing in the eyes of his king.
"They are splendid, Faramir." He turned to Arwen and she nodded in agreement.
"Glorious. Perfect little flowers." She reached down for a tiny hand and smiled as miniature fingers gripped her own. "What will you call them, Finduilas and Theodwyn?"
"No," said Faramir, looking at his daughters. "We are calling them Estel and Alasse." He saw the surprise and pleasure on Aragorn's face. Arwen gave him a dazzling smile.
"Hope and Joy." She looked past him and met Eowyn's eyes. "How lovely."
"Who is who?" asked Aragorn, causing a moment of confusion as Faramir's eyes went from babies to Eowyn to babies again.
"The blond is Alasse," said Eowyn in a quiet voice that somehow still made the decision settled.
Aragorn cupped his hand around Estel's head, dwarfing her tiny features. "Estel," he said softly and then moved his hand to her sister. "Alasse." His eyes lifted and met Faramir's. "You are twice blessed, my lord Steward." He looked over at Eowyn. "My lady." As he turned to go Faramir could see the look of yearning that passed between him and Arwen and he felt a wave of compassion toward them.
After they had gone Faramir returned the babies to the cradle and divided the next hour between watching them and Eowyn nap. Soon Nan arrived bearing an elaborately arranged tray of food. Eowyn awoke famished and as she and Faramir ate they talked of all that had occurred in the week they had been apart. She elaborated on her talk with Arwen and told him of the boys' activities, while his descriptions of the flood damage and losses of homes and livestock made it easy to see how hectic his time had been at Minas Tirith. The faint beginning of a whimper from the cradle interrupted him and Eowyn moved her plate aside and held out her arms. "Give her to me."
"Which one?" He gave her a playful teasing look.
"Whoever is crying."
A moment later Estel was hungrily searching for her mother's nipple. When she had latched on and was suckling intently Eowyn held out her arm again. "Now Alasse."
"She's not awake," Faramir said, looking down at the sleeping baby in the cradle.
"Mellanar said to try to get them eating at the same time or I'll never have a moment's peace." Faramir handed the baby to Eowyn, who tried mightily to interest her in a meal, but the little grey eyes stayed shut and no amount of tickling her feet or cheeks could convince her it was time to eat. After a few minutes Eowyn shook her head in defeat and Faramir returned the baby to the cradle. "She'll be hungry as soon as this one is finished and sleeping," predicted Eowyn with a look of annoyance. Faramir smiled.
"Your time is going to be quite full for a while," he said. "Do you want a wet nurse?"
Eowyn gave him a look of horror. "Thank you, no. I am quite able to take care of my own children." Faramir looked at her affectionately; remember the shock among many of the nobles when Eowyn had insisted on nursing Elboron herself. In Rohan it was considered an honorable thing for a woman to nurse her own children, not a tedious job to be avoided if at all possible, as it was among so many of the upper class in Gondor. With each child born to her, Eowyn had ignored the whispers and proudly nursed, causing quite a stir and pleasing her husband immensely with her spirit.
"You may change your mind when you've gone two days with no sleep," he suggested, laughing at her snort of disbelief.
As expected, no sooner was Estel finished and settled back in the cradle than Alasse began her own demanding cry and when the nipple was offered this time she was eager to accept. For all her initial reluctance she ate faster than her sister and was returned to the cradle and sleeping soundly in a short time. Eowyn lay back and watched with a smile on her face as Faramir bent over the cradle, his eyes softly shining. When he looked up to find her watching him he smiled self-consciously and then moved up to give her a soft kiss on the lips. "You are beautiful, and wonderful, and brave, and I love you very much," he said. She smiled and kissed him back. "I love you, too."
Brisk knocking at the door was followed by its opening and Nan ushering in the boys to tell Eowyn good night. They were surprised and happy to see their father also there, his arrival much more exciting to them than that of their little sisters. Eowyn received a dutiful peck on the cheek from each of them and little girls a passing glance before they turned to Faramir, all of them wanting to tell him about their past week. He eventually ended up leaving the bedchamber and escorting them to their rooms while listening to each recounted adventure. It was nearly an hour before he returned to Eowyn and she had fallen asleep by that time. Giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek and peeking in on the sleeping infants in the cradle, he decided to see if Aragorn was awake and give him a report on the condition of the city and it's surrounding areas.
Arwen answered his knock with a welcoming smile. He began to explain his errand in a low voice, but seeing Aragorn lying in the bed apparently asleep Faramir changed his mind and turned to go.
"No, stay," said the king quietly. "Tell me how my kingdom fares, my lord Steward. I can listen with my eyes closed." He opened one eye and peered at Faramir. "Is it as bad as I suspect?"
Faramir sat down in a chair near the bed and leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. "The flooding in some areas was quite extensive. There were at least thirteen deaths, and we still have about 200 refugees in Minas Tirith. Most are there because their homes were swept away, or so badly damaged they are unlivable.
"Thirteen?" The king's face was distressed and both eyes opened and met Faramir's.
"I held a memorial service yesterday," he said quietly. "Two people are still missing."
"I should have been there," Aragorn said. He sat up in the bed and looked across the room at Arwen. "I need to get back." She came over and gently pushed him down again, pulling the blanket up around him.
"You are not moving until Mellanar says you can." Her quiet demeanor did not mask the firmness of her tone.
"Arwen!"
"You just walked back upstairs from the veranda and look how tired you were," she said. "You are not ready to travel back to the city yet." She laid a soothing hand along his cheek. "Soon, when you are ready. Until then Faramir can take care of things. He IS the Steward, I thought." She gave him a smile and Faramir hurriedly agreed.
"Everything is going well, Aragorn, there is no need to worry. I have Eomer to help me and we are managing. The people know you are injured, they understand." He sent Arwen a hopeful look as Aragorn considered his words.
What about the docks at Harlond?" Aragorn asked after a moment. "They were in already in disrepair last fall."
Faramir gave a sigh. "Over half were destroyed. The flooding was worst southeast of the city." He went on, giving details of the damaged areas, most of which he or Eomer had inspected personally in the last several days. "Once the weather turns, the farmers will need to get their crops in, they will not have time to do both planting and building. And the quays must be restored before first early harvest. I have started forming several companies made up of soldiers and volunteers from the city. As soon as we get some dry weather, they will begin rebuilding."
"When is Legolas due back?" Aragorn's voice sounded weary and Faramir saw Arwen glance down at him with concern on her face.
"He said in the spring, so I look for him any time." He stood up and moved toward the door. "I will leave you to rest, my lord."
Aragorn frowned and motioned him back. "Stay a while." He sat up in the bed once more, tensing his body and biting his lip to keep back a groan. Arwen sighed and gathered up the tray that held the dishes from their meal.
"I'll take these back to the kitchen," she said, giving him a small glare of disapproval as she left the room.
"She's going down there to get Mellanar to mix up some sleeping draught," groused Aragorn. He saw Faramir still standing uncertainly at the doorway. "Sit down," he said. "Please."
Faramir reluctantly sat back down. "Aragorn, perhaps you should try to get some sleep-"
"Hmmph!" The king grunted with disgust. "I'm tired of sleeping, Faramir. I'm tired of doing nothing." He gave his Steward a desperate look that was half serious. "Can't you help me escape?"
A smile broke across Faramir's face. "No, my lord. I fear the anger of both our wives far too much to risk such an adventure."
Aragorn smiled back despite his moodiness and nodded in understanding. He grudgingly leaned back against the pillows again, trying without success to stifle another groan. "Do you know your wife informed me several days ago I was spoiled?"
Faramir's face froze for a moment as he tried to decide if Aragorn was angered by Eowyn's comment. Seeing the edge of the king's mouth was turned up slightly he decided it was safe to smile. "She is always quite – um – willing to give her opinion, my lord. You know that."
"She was right," admitted Aragorn. "She said I was not used to being cared for, or resting, and she was right. It has been very unpleasant." He paused thoughtfully a moment. "For both me and those around me, perhaps," he said. He looked at Faramir. "And yet also very pleasant. Not the circumstances, certainly." His eyes flicked down to indicate the bandaged areas on his body. "But, these days here in your home with your family have been special ones, Faramir." He faltered a bit and ducked his head to intently stare at the coverlet. "Arwen and I rarely have had such a long period of time together with no responsibilities. It has been good, given us time to talk, and listen to each other. To just enjoy being alive and together." He looked at Faramir, as if worried his words were too personal.
Faramir nodded soberly. "Those times come all too seldom for most of us."
The king let his head rest against the pillow for a moment, thinking. Then he grinned at Faramir. "Your boys! Faramir, your sons are wonderful; you should be proud of them. They have given me much amusement this past week."
A glow of love lit up Faramir's grey eyes. "I'm glad, my lord. I am proud of them. All of them." Only someone who knew the Steward as well as Aragorn would have caught the slight stress on the word 'all'. Aragorn's eyes met Faramir's and though no words were spoken, a silent understanding passed between them for a moment and Aragorn knew to change the subject.
"Eowyn has been a great help and comfort," he said. "To me, and," again his eyes dropped to the coverlet as he became slightly self-conscious, "especially to Arwen. I know their talks have meant a great deal to her."
"Aragorn," Faramir shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Eowyn told me what Arwen said, about –" he had a sudden worry that Aragorn might not have approved of Arwen sharing such things with Eowyn and stumbled over his words. "About babies, your – her – the problems." He looked at the king apologetically. "All those times I spoke to you about having an heir, I didn't know – I thought –". He flushed and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry."
Aragorn pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly. "It is nothing for you to apologize for, Faramir. You did not know. I understood your concerns. I think now you understand mine a little better, and why I pressed you for the declaration." Faramir nodded.
"And I feel better knowing it is written down and in the House of Records," said Aragorn. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to go on, but then took the chance and continued speaking. "But perhaps it will be unnecessary. We have decided to try again, Arwen and I, when I am recovered." He tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice and looked at Faramir with hopeful, hesitant eyes. "Thanks to Eowyn."
Faramir met his gaze and held it. "I wish you success, my friend," he said fervently.
Aragorn bowed his head slightly, as if he were receiving a blessing. "Thank you," he said in a husky voice.
The door opened quietly behind them and they each quickly composed themselves. Arwen came in carrying a cup that had a by-now familiar smell and Aragorn gave Faramir a look of resignation. "I told you."
"Mellanar says this will help you feel better." Arwen handed it to her husband and stood there waiting for him to drink it. Aragorn looked at Faramir helplessly and his Steward laughed and got to his feet.
"Get some sleep, Aragorn. I speak from experience when I tell you it is best to follow the advice of the healer." With a gentle pat to the healing shoulder of the king, Faramir left the room and went to spend a few moments with his wife and new daughters before going to bed. In the morning, he would head back to Minas Tirith.
TO BE CONTINUED
NOTE: According to several on-line Elvish/English dictionaries and translations, Alasse is Elvish for Joy. And, of course, we know Estel is Hope, from Tolkien himself.
Thanks for Raksha for beta'ing AND suggesting that Arwen would consider the little girls "Glorious. Perfect little flowers." (A high compliment from the nature-loving Elves!)