Entering the courtyard, father and son saw most of the funeral march prepared. Together they would process through the tunnel down to the sixth level to meet the funeral carriage of Éowyn and Findiel. Aragorn knew that this was going to be extremely difficult for Faramir, knowing that his wife and daughter were inside that box, but not being able to hold them ever again. Even Gandalf's words were little consolation against one's own sense of loss.
It was indeed a difficult moment for the Steward. The last time he had been in this situation he was only five years of age and it was his mother's body in a box. Faramir couldn't help but think that it was easier then because they were going to Fen Hollin and not to Edoras. Faramir had prepared himself, though, as much as he could for this. He still had his father and his son, and now there was also his brother's son, and even Boromir was only his brother by half, Belthil was still another blood connection. Though Faramir could never explain why, it meant something to him, it meant a lot to him.
Faramir held Elboron while Berethil got into the carriage. He was rather sorry that his son was wrapped up so snugly for the journey, he half expected Elboron's tiny hands to be buried in his hair by now. Faramir rethought his choice of expression in that though. He knew he would need to keep himself in check for at least the next couple weeks. He dearly hoped that this march would not be the march of nearly three weeks that was afforded Theoden. Much like his father, riding at his own pace was no problem for the former Ranger, but long, dour marches were excruciating, particularly when the march was on account of the death of one's wife and daughter. Faramir tried diligently to drive those thoughts from his mind and now he sincerely wished that his little son was able to reach his locks, if only for the distraction.
For Faramir, distraction came in the form of Erestor, who was still torn as to whether it would be better for him to accompany the funeral march or to remain in Minas Tirith. It was clear that Faramir needed as many friends as possible at the moment. Faramir assured Erestor that he would be all right and that he would feel much better knowing that his office was looked after while he was away, and also that the Queen was not left on her own while the King was away. All involved knew it was out of the question for Arwen to accompany a funeral march to Edoras in her condition.
Glorfindel, however, was going along. Walking up to Erestor and wrapping his arms around him from behind, Erestor turned quickly, a light of annoyance shining in his eyes - exactly the way Glorfindel had hoped to see. "Did i not warn you about that the last time? Perhaps my knife against your throat did not convince you that i do not like that, meleth?"
Glorfindel ignored him though and leaned in closer. "Coming along, are you? You seem to be dressed for a funeral... though, you always are," he teased.
"Perhaps that is because i am always contemplating kinslaying whenever you are around. Or perhaps it is simply because i choose not to blind others at any given moment," Erestor hissed back at his lover.
Glorfindel's kiss put an end to their potential argument though and Erestor softened and entreated of the Golden One, "Promise me that you will be gone no longer than is decent, whatever the mortal expectation is."
Glorfindel simply nodded.
"And do not go back to Imladris without me, even if it is a straight shot from Edoras up north along the Misty Mountains," Erestor said seriously before kissing the pout from his lover's lips.
The scene between Aragorn and Arwen was little different. He held her closely in his arms, his hands then straying to rest on her abdomen, over the hardly perceptible swell there. There was a light in Aragorn's eyes as he looked back up into Arwen's, both smiling the same smile. She leaned against him, gripping his shoulder slightly when she felt a kick, but she recovered and smiled all the brighter for Aragorn's concern.
"Is it is not early for that yet?" he asked in fear.
Arwen only shook her head. Elven pregnancies were not exactly like those of Mortal women. "I shall be glad when he is born though, then it will be your turn to do the carrying," she said with a slight smirk.
Aragorn's gaze filled with wonder. "He?" he asked softly.
"It is a mother's intuition," Arwen replied, "not necessarily my foresight."
Aragorn was pleased none the less and could not help but feel that this was a chance for him to experience what he had missed in Faramir's youth. Yet this child would never replace that nor be expected to. Aragorn's heart held room enough for all of them.
There was no parting for Éomer and Lothíriel, but they held fast to one another none the less. Éomer was in desperate need of her strength at the moment. His own strength was failing fast and even with Lothíriel there for him, he could not help feeling left alone.
At long last it came time to depart and giving Elboron over to Berethil's care, Faramir mounted and rode to the forefront with his father and brother-in-law. Faramir wondered if ever there would be a respite in the tests he seemed to face unceasingly in his life.
It had been a week since leaving Minas Tirith when those who were former Rangers began to grow weary of the extended pace. A week and they were only halfway to Edoras, if that. Ordinarily, Aragorn did not like to sleep in the tents which were constructed each evening. To him it felt too much like declaring one's self a target and he almost always felt safer sleeping under a tree. One could take the Ranger out of the wild, but never could one take the Ranger out of the King.
On this march, however, Aragorn did sleep in the pavilion constructed for him. There were only a few tents constructed, two of which bore the emblems of Rohan. There were two large pavilions, one flying the royal banner of Gondor, the other the royal banner of Rohan. Between them was a very small tent decorated in Rohan's colors, but flying the standards of both countries. Though Aragorn detested this set-up, which would speak very plainly to any potential enemy just who was housed where for the night, he did not protest. Nor did his sword leave his side, though.
Gondor's pavilion was large enough to sleep not only Aragorn, but Faramir and Gandalf as well. Berethil's own tent was set just to the side of their pavilion, but Faramir would not sleep without his son directly beside him.
Belthil, too, had been invited to join them, but he declined, preferring to assist the night watch when he could. Faramir understood immediately. Boromir was quite the same and often suffered insomnia, as Aragorn and Gandalf were also aware.
One night Aragorn found himself restless as well and decided to walk for a while instead of vainly remaining in bed. Apparently, he was not the only one. Belthil was on watch near Berethil's tent and Éomer seemed to be keeping his own personal watch at the small tent between the two great pavilions. Aragorn went to sit beside Éomer after lighting his pipe from the watch fire.
Éomer, however, was disconsolate. Aragorn spoke not at all, sympathizing with, even if he could not know, how his friend was feeling. Éomer has lost both his mother and father at a young age. More recently his dear cousin and uncle had both been victims of the War of the Ring. Now it was his sister and niece. The only blood relative Éomer had left was Elboron. Aragorn himself had never really felt the loss of his father and the only blood relative he ever knew other than his son was his mother.
Éomer refused the silent offer of Aragorn's pipe, but the scent of pipeweed did draw out another. Gandalf, too, emerged from Aragorn's tent and took up alongside the two Kings of Men. Taking out his own pipe, the White Wizard thought to offer it to Éomer, but guessed that Aragorn already had done. Gandalf saw clearly than any just what Éomer was trying so hard to endure. It was Gandalf's hushed question that broke the silence.
"For whom do you grieve, Éomer?" Gandalf asked. Aragorn looked quizzically at his old friend, but knew he was going somewhere with his question.
Éomer did not think there was anywhere to go and turned to glare at the wizard. "What mean you by that obtuse question, Greyhame?" Éomer said angrily. "You know as well as i do who lie in that tent inside a burial box."
"Of course i do, young Éomer, but again i ask you, for whom do you grieve?" Gandalf said. At that point Aragorn took a keen interest in stirring the watch fire with a stick, even if it was nowhere near dying out.
"I grieve for my sister and niece," Éomer spat, "for whom do you think i grieve?"
"I think you grieve for yourself," Gandalf said calmly.
"For myself?!" Éomer said, a little louder than necessary and probably waking the lighter sleepers in their company.
"That is what i said," Gandalf replied.
"And why do you think that, Gandalf Greyhame?"
"I believe i know it, Éomer. I have never grieved, not even for the passing of dear friends of mine. Rather, you should rejoice," Gandalf said with a conviction that Éomer could not comprehend.
"Rejoice?!" Éomer shouted, not bothering to contain his shock, nor caring who he had wakened when he considered that no amount of his shouting would ever waken his sister and niece.
Gandalf was not in the least surprised by Éomer's upset and still spoke calmly. "Éomer, my young friend, we may grieve for ourselves alone, but in truth it is selfish to do so. Those who have died and departed Arda should be given every honor for the lives they lived, but should not be grieved simply because their deeds here have come to an ending."
"Perhaps that is find for the Elves and Wizards and such beings high in favor with the gods, but for Men it is not so. For are not Elves reunited with their loved ones in the Undying Lands? Gandalf, you are wise, indeed, yet you do not know what it is to lose the ones you most love," Éomer said, no longer shouting but now in desperation.
"No, Éomer, i have seen many die, but not those i have loved most. But i myself do understand death. You may also speak to Lord Glorfindel," Gandalf said, pointing to a tree in the distance which seemed to glow as if a candle had been set in it's branches. We both have ventured beyond the veil and returned to tell the tale, but i have known the White Shores since the first of my being. I have known Lord Námo whose dwelling is Mandos, though i have already spoken overmuch of that and perhaps you should in fact ask Lord Glorfindel. What i mean to tell you, Éomer, is that it is those who have gone before who should weep for those of us still here. Not otherwise."
Éomer shook his head through the tears, unable, or perhaps rather more unwilling, to understand what Gandalf was trying to say and growing entirely frustrated. He did not want anyone's sympathies or explanations of death, he wanted his sister alive again. Éomer could have borne it, had Éowyn died in battle with the honor of such a death, but to die because of an enemy's poison, an enemy whom she had warmed to and who had gained her confidence, no less. And worst of all was that she was put into the line of danger by, as Éomer felt, his own sense of diplomacy over his sense of protectiveness. Éomer rose and left Gandalf, going back into his pavilion. He wanted no companionship that night.
Only then did Aragorn return to Gandalf's side and the two decided to return to Aragorn's tent where they continued to speak in hushed voices. Faramir had been woken by Éomer's shouts and lie awake, Aragorn and Gandalf both knew, but they had nothing to conceal from him and he would fall back into sleep soon enough. That was if Elboron did not decide to wake his father and insist on being taken to his nurse for feeding.
Aragorn's attention was focused on his sleeping grandson and thinking of his future as a Steward. He had been thinking about the son Arwen believed she would bear him and his future as well. He hoped they would grow up to be friends and wondered when or if they would be told of their relation.
Aragorn sat back wearily. "This is all so complicated, Gandalf. I never wanted the kingship and i still do not, yet i bear it as best i can only hoping that it is enough. My son loves his Stewardship even if it demanding on him and yet, if what Arwen says comes to be, i will have a second son who shall inherit my crown and all that goes along with it. I feel i have given my first son all he has wanted, and condemned my second. And yet can my second born ever know that Faramir is his elder brother or must this be concealed forever? I am likely not even entitled to any of this, the fair or the foul."
Gandalf looked intently at Aragorn, wondering where he had gotten that idea, even though he knew he was not the first to have it. "And what, of all you have seen and done, should ever make you think that you are not the rightful King of Gondor? Have you ever once before doubted, since the day of your 20th year, that you are the heir of Elendil?" Gandalf much preferred to call Aragorn Elendil's heir rather than Isildur's as it simply made Aragorn more comfortable to think of it that way.
Aragorn shook his head. "I have not doubted it, but there are those who do. And, if i have interpreted them correctly, and i likely have not for they make utterly no sense to me, accord to the laws of Gondor -"
Gandalf interrupted, though he nearly choked on a mis-inhaled puff. "Laws of Gondor, indeed! If the laws of Gondor were always followed to the letter, the Ring would have ended up in Denethor's hands and no one but Sauron himself would have ever gotten it loose, and i do not doubt that just that would have come to pass. Furthermore, i know that Denethor did doubt your right, but you can clearly see why. Boromir, in the end, did not doubt you, and Faramir never has."
Aragorn sighed. "I know that, but it seems that it will be difficult for me to prove anything to those who do doubt me. I know of what they speak. There was a time when one of the Chieftains did not have a male heir, only a daughter."
"By the Balrog's wings! And was Luthien any less an heir of Thingol?" Gandalf cried, trying to contain his voice.
"Of course not, but it is different for Elves, Gandalf. You know that. According to the laws of Gondor, that man's brother, or whatever nearest male blood relative, should have inherited the house, and i know as much that that did not happen and in Gondor's eyes the line was, legally speaking, broken then."
"And who is King of Gondor? A man, flesh and blood, or laws, parchment and fading ink?" Gandalf challenged. "Do not think you can back out of your crown so easily. Not whilst i still dwell upon this side of the Sea."
"I am not trying to Gandalf. I am only trying to figure out how i shall ever address that matter. I can not simply change the laws as i wish. Some i can and already have changed, but to simply change what i want because i want to is tyranny."
Gandalf's smile was reassuring to Aragorn though. "The people love you, Elessar. Is that not enough? So there are a few dissenters. That shall always be so, but they would be run out of the kingdom at the first mention that they disbelieve you. Have your own deeds not proved to you yourself who you are? Who, but the rightful heir of Elendil, could have ever summoned the army at Erech? Who, but the rightful heir of Elendil, could have stood before the Black Gate and drawn Sauron's gaze? Who, but the rightful heir of Elendil, could have brought back so many from the edge of death with the Athelas leaf? Who, but the rightful heir of Elendil, would Elrond have loved as his own son who was not so?"
"There were some i could not bring back, Gandalf," Aragorn said, shifting the subject as his gaze went toward the tent in which Éowyn and Findiel's casket lay.
Gandalf lay a hand to his friend's shoulder. "Aragorn, ever have you expected the impossible of yourself before you counted yourself worthy. You take uponyourself everyone else's troubles while your own go untended. I myself saw the vial of poison that was used. That mixture was one that even Elrond could not have cured them of, certainly not after several days."
"I feel as though i failed, Gandalf. Not only them, but Faramir and Éomer as well. I was not good enough this time, my best was not enough," Aragorn said dejectedly.
Faramir, hearing his father's misery, spoke up. "Father, do not take the fault upon yourself, please. You had done all that was in your power and you can not take blame for a power you do not possess. Nor can you be bitter for it. If anyone can bear blame, other than those who concocted and administered the poison, it is i. I should have stayed with them. I would have died for them."
"Faramir," Gandalf said sharply but compassionately, "neither you nor Aragorn can begin to bear any of this blame. I want you both to understand that well. If you all begin insisting on a share of the blame it will lead to worse troubles. Éomer is included in that, even though, perhaps later, but he will not hear me at this time. Those left behind must band together, there is yet much to be accomplished. The only thing that we have accomplished yet is clearing the path to begin our work."
"You speak as if you would stay to help us, Mithrandir," Faramir said, with the slightest touch of hope in his voice.
Gandalf shook his head. "I would, Faramir, i would. But i can not. I should rather have said your work. At times i wish it could be my work."
"Your work has been enough, Gandalf, and for it i shall ever thank you. Now, i think we can all agree, however, that sleep is in order more than debate," Aragorn said, deciding that that night was not one for discussion anymore, but that some manner of rest should be attempted.
Gandalf nodded, tapping out the remains from his pipe. "Remember this, Aragorn, any man who wants to be King should never be King. It is because you do not want to hold power that you must hold it. I second the motion for sleep."
The motion was passed by Faramir and sleep was taken by the three.
---
Wow... so sorry for the update delay. Except for that little one-shot i did, i ended up with a little case of writer's block and decided not to push it and just let it run its course. I'm back though, and hopefully, the length here will help make up for the time it took.
linda: No, the councilors are going to be staying behind, thankfully so too is Erestor and we all know that he doesn't put up with much in the way of aberration. There are some tensions to be dealt with in this funeral. Some seen here, some yet to come.
Elenhin: I'm thinking Aragorn wishes right about now that he was a good writer who could write himself out of his throne in such a way that no one gets hurt. He still doesn't like being King very much, but i think once he gets a new council things will get better for him.