81. A Wedding in Ithilien
Southern Ithilien is a lot like Tuscany or the Provence. Soft green hills, dark green cypress trees, a true blue sky – it looks like a painting by van Gogh come alive.
The new white villa of the Prince of Ithilien and his lovely lady is situated on the south-western slopes of the Emyn Arnen. You have a magnificent view from their terraces – to the southwest you can see the Anduin glittering in the sunlight and behind the Anduin the lush green fields of Lossarnach and the Lebennin beckon and to the south there is Southern Ithilien, with its orchards of almond and olive trees, and its fields of sunflowers.
The dark shadows of the Ephel Dúath seem far away, almost insubstantial.
"The gardens will need a few years yet to become really beautiful," Legolas was saying apologetically, gesturing to scrawny bushes and thin young trees. Gimli had been in charge of the buildings, Legolas had been responsible for the shaping of the gardens. If I didn't know better (but do I?) I would have been inclined to say that the architects of those beautiful English landscaped gardens and parks must have had an elf or two to advise them. Even though the gardens of Faramir's villa had only been planted this spring, you could see a hint of what they would look like in a few years' time.
"This is amazing," Éowyn said simply and smiled at her husband. Faramir positively glowed at this praise. But Éowyn was right. It was amazing. The white villa looked as if it had been there forever, on that soft green hill above the Anduin and the green fields of Ithilien.
Legolas had found the perfect place for the new palace. The mansion of the Prince of Ithilien had been built on the shoulder of the slopes of Emyn Arnen, it had a beautiful view and there were enough trees already there to frame the villa in a way that the gardens did not look too barren even during their first season of growth. There was also enough room for high white walls and turrets as defences against any marauding orcs or other evil creatures – be they robbers, corsairs or soldiers from Harad.
Sadly times were still too dangerous to simply build a villa, shape a garden and leave it at that. Security would remain the number one priority for some time to come yet. There was non building or trading to be done without thinking about security first. Therefore it had not been the view that had been the deciding factor in choosing this spot as a building site. It had been the fact that you could anyone approaching for some miles on every side. It could also be easily secured with walls and small towers. And with the new wooden bridge across the Anduin there was a quick escape route. The bridge could be collapsed easily, too, leaving any foes on the far side of the Anduin with no way to cross save at Osgiliath. And Osgiliath is about the best defended city of Gondor. The people of Gondor have taken the three attacks on their legendary city of stars as a personal insult.
Éowyn appreciated the safety features just as much as Faramir's personal reasons for choosing this place for their home. He had wanted to give his beloved the wide and free spaces she was used to from her home. He wanted her to feel at home in Gondor and not like a caged bird.
In a city with the Mindolluin a blue shadow to the west, the Ephel Dúath looming darkly to the east and the green hills of the Emyn Arnen to the east, it would have been difficult for someone like Éowyn not to feel slightly claustrophobic. Here, not even thirty miles to the south of Osgiliath, the mountains were opening out towards southern Gondor. It was a soft southern country, not at all like Rohan with its wild and lonely plains between the high peaks of the Misty Mountains and the white glaciers of the Ered Nimrais. But it was a wide and open country nevertheless.
Looking at Éowyn, smiling and relaxed in Faramir's arms, I knew she would be happy here. Especially since Faramir had been smart enough to make household security Éowyn's responsibility. I think he thought that would make their home as safe as can be, but keep Éowyn away from real mischief. I thought that was a pretty clever move. But on the other hand, Éowyn was a very clever woman.
"I can see even today how beautiful the gardens will be in a few years," I offered and smiled at Legolas. "You have a different theme for every terrace, haven't you? So it will not be one garden, but many different gardens when it is finished?"
Legolas' eyes lit up. "Exactly! In the end you will be able to pass from terrace to terrace and discover something new and beautiful on each level."
"I think you will have many visitors just to see the gardens," I commented. Legolas smiled happily. I shook my head lightly, feeling a little bemused. I had not known how much the elf had longed for an opportunity such as this. Somehow I had only seen Legolas the warrior, Legolas the hunter and Legolas the ambassador from Erin Lasgalen. I had not known that Legolas the gardener even existed. "You will have to get Sam to come and visit," I told Merry and Pippin.
It was early in the afternoon of the twenty-fourth of May. Somehow the hobbits had managed to arrive on the twenty-second. Apparently they had changed horses as often as possible and ridden as if pursued by a hoard of winged nazgûl. Anyway, after dinner on the 22nd, the doors of the living room of the royal apartments had opened to admit two dishevelled, gleeful hobbits.
Merry looked at the various levels of the gardens. Although he was not a gardener by heart, as a hobbit he had an eye for growing things. "Yes, Sam would love this place," he said. "But for the foreseeable future no one and nothing will get him out of the Shire and away from his Rosie." Pippin snorted with laughter. "They look exactly like you two," Pippin said and pointed his finger at Éowyn and Faramir. "Gooey-eyed and completely gone on one another. It's a wonder they manage to leave their bed every morning." Faramir looked a little taken aback at the hobbit's pertness, but Éowyn only chuckled and tightened her hold on Faramir's hand.
I was glad that Arwen was not present. She had gone to bed after lunch to put up her feet for a bit. With the pregnancy she needed more sleep than usual. Had she been here, I would have been surrounded by married bliss to the point of choking. "Yes, they look rather relaxed, don't they?" I said and raised an eyebrow at the couple admiring the view from their terrace. Éowyn only grinned at me. "Patience, Lothy. Your time will come. In a little over three months." She paused, a thoroughly evil grin spreading across her face. "That is, if my dear brother is up to it." Faramir blushed prettily at that – turning my attempt of glaring at Éowyn into a rather unhinged giggle. A giggle that turned into a gasp as Éomer came around the corner, accompanied by Gimli.
Éomer's dark gaze lingered on me. Heat rose up inside of me. It was almost like a caress. I swallowed heavily, my heartbeat quickening. Three months! How was I supposed to survive that?
Pippin looked from Éomer to me and back again, sniggering. Merry grinned broadly. As did Éowyn, Faramir and Aragorn – who was the only one who had the grace to turn away and hide that grin. Only Legolas kept a straight face. I absolutely live for entertaining my friends.
But Éomer quickly walked towards me and took my hand firmly into his; drawing me against him much in the same manner as Faramir had taken hold of his wife. Thank God that Míri stayed with Arwen and that Elaine was with Sorcha and Solas, playing with some dwarvish building blocks. Míri and Elaine would make even Éomer behave.
"This property is amazing," Éomer said. "It doesn't look it, but I think it's easier to defend than most mountain keeps." "And it has an excellent escape route," Éowyn added. The non-existing escape routes were the big problem of the Rohirric mountain keeps. Gimli squared his shoulders, grinning smugly. Legolas smiled indulgently down at his friend. In a way the building of Faramir's mansion had been a competition between those unusual friends. Faramir couldn't have gotten a better deal with a dwarf and an elf set on outdoing one another in the building and devising of mansion and gardens.
The villa was already decked out festively for the feast tomorrow. There were garlands of flowers and leaves, long tables covered with white linen, torches set around the terraces, lanterns suspended from the trees and the kitchens were working non-stop in the preparation of all kinds of Gondorian and Rohirric delicacies necessary to celebrate the union of the Steward of Gondor with the royal family of Rohan.
It would be the party of the year in Gondor.
Faramir was the darling boy of high society in Gondor. Everyone would be here tomorrow. To see the couple. I would have thought that Aragorn and Arwen would be the couple in Gondor. But strangely enough, they were not. Perhaps they were simply too far above even the Gondorian high society – Elendil's heir and Elrond's daughter. Not even the most exalted lords and ladies could identify with this king and this queen. But Faramir everyone knew and loved. He was the hero of his people. And Éowyn was already a legend.
I relaxed against Éomer's warmth behind me. If I was allowed to stay this close to Éomer throughout the feast, I thought I could perhaps really enjoy myself. But even with Míriël and Elaine hounding me about the proper behaviour for young noble women of Gondor – as long as I could even look at Éomer from the distance, I would be happy. Looking into his dark eyes, hearing his dark voice, smelling the spicy fragrance that clung to his body made me realize just how much I had missed him. Looking at him, just plain looking at him was heaven.
So I was actually looking forward to the feast no matter what would happen. And it would be interesting enough even discounting Éomer, I had to admit. I would get a really close look at the Gondorian high society. I had met some of the lords and ladies who would be there already, and by now I knew the names of the Gondorian provinces and their lords and ladies by heart. It would be interesting to see them, all in one place. To watch how nobility worked in real life.
Because Faramir had insisted on a "modest" affair, only the overlords of each fiefdom of Gondor would be present – and several special guests, relatives or personages of political importance. There would be even some people present who were simply friends of Faramir and Éowyn, and not important at all.
I went over the list in my mind.
Gondor has twelve provinces. Andrast, Lefnui, Pinnath Gelin, Anfalas, Morthond, Lamedon, Dol Amroth, Tolfalas, Lebennin, Lossarnach, Ithilien and Anórien. Among them Ithilien, Anórien and Dol Amroth are the most important provinces. Ithilien and Anórien were historically the fiefdoms of the sons of Elendil, Isildur and Anárion, but during the rule of the stewards, Dol Amroth grew in importance.
Therefore the following lords and ladies would be present tomorrow:
Prince Imrahil and Lady Míriël, of course.
Húrin of the Keyes who was the Duke of Anórien and his lovely lady, Morenna, along with their daughter, Morwen.
Lord Forvomir of Lossarnach, the oldest son of Forlong the Fat. Forlong had died in the war.
Lord Pinnar of Lebennin and Lady Clauren.
Lord Angbor of Lamedon.
Lord Dorlas of Tarnost and his son Dervorin.
Lady Míriël's ladies-in-waiting, the ladies Lalaith, Eiriën and Lasbelin. I frowned. The ladies-in-waiting of the queen would be there, too, but I couldn't really keep them straight yet. There were seven of them, including Lady Míriël. However, they would be in attendance. Lord Angbor was looking for a wife – his lady had died in childbed last summer. And Dervorin was not married yet, either.
Then there were the parents of Lady Elaine, the Lady Iûlieth Ivriniel and the Lord Cristion.
Lord Lorin of Tolfalas.
The sad Lord Duinhir of Morthond who had lost both of his sons in the war.
Lord Golasgil of Anfalas.
Lord Hirtith of Pinnath Galen, the son of Lord Sirloin the Fair who had been killed in the war, too.
Duke Herion of South Gondor, of course. There was not way to keep politics completely out of this.
Lord Hall car of Lefnui – he was the son of Halberd the Dúnadan who had died in the war. Aragorn had enfeoffed the provinces of Lefnui and Andrast to Dúnedain from the North since their original lords had refused to aid Minas Tirith during the war. Galion was now Lord of Andrast, Hallacar Lord of Lefnui.
The King and Queen, of course, first and foremost.
Éomer. And some dignitaries from Rohan, namely Erkenbrand, the third marshal of the Mark and Lord Eutharich along with his daughter, Eugilin who was in need of a husband.
Legolas and Gimli.
Elladan and Elrohir.
Merry and Pippin.
Some friends from Faramir's company who had survived the slaughter at Osgiliath last year.
The captain of Faramir's guard, Beregond. His son, Bergil. Lord Imrahil's squire, Gawin. Éomer's squire, Frohwein. Erkenbrand's squire, Aelfriv. Númendil, as Éomer's page.
Well, there would be certainly enough people around to make for a lively party.
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Éomer's voice was soft, and very close to my ear. I shivered against him. How about we skip the party tomorrow and hide in one of Gimli's cute towers? "I just thought about who will be here tomorrow." I smiled up at Éomer. "I have learned the names of the provinces of Gondor and their ruling lords by heart." Éomer grinned at me. "Has the winter been really that long and boring?"
I tried to keep my face straight. "Pure agony. By now I read and write tengwar and the Cirth quite fluently."
It was Éowyn who made a face at that. "What a headache! You have to really love my brother if you are willing to undergo such trials for his sake."
I smiled at Éomer. A deep and silent smile. I felt him inhale deeply. Did my presence affect him in the same way as it affected me?
"Now that we have seen the wonders of Faramir's villa, how about some tea and tírithel?" Aragorn suggested. "And perhaps a game of cards? What do you say, Legolas, Gimli? Are you willing to raise the stakes?"
Gimli's dark eyes glinted mischievously. Pip's eyes sparkled. "What's the game?"
"A wicked version of poker that is said to have been introduced by the corsairs of Umbar." Faramir replied. "I would not advise you to try it. Especially not if Aragorn is playing. I think Legolas has lost a year's income already."
We retired to the – living room? drawing room? saloon? – anyway, a comfortable room with a large fire place (white marble), a long table suitable for card games with many players, easy chairs arranged around small tables set with chess boards and other games. There were high glass windows and a large chandelier suspended from the ceiling so that even at night the room would be lit bright enough to continue playing and talking at leisure.
The feast started before noon.
A group of musicians and jugglers simply started playing. The house guests were served sparkling white wine with a syrup of dark red berries. Sort of like Kir Royal á la Ithilien.
The other guests arrived almost at the same time. Most of them were staying in Minas Tirith. They must have set out in the middle of the night to be here at noon. But here they were, richly attired ladies and lords, in brocades and silks and velvet. Drenched in perfume. But the fragrance of horse sweat clung to the men nevertheless, and there was a powder of road dust adorned some of the women. But they came. One and all. For Faramir and Éowyn.
As unobtrusively as possible I tried to stay close to Éomer. Míriël was busy with watching Númendil on his first day as an adult - which unfortunately meant that she was watching me, too. Númendil acted today the first time as Éomer's page. And wasn't he sweet! Dressed in the livery of Rohan, he looked like a miniature Rider and he trailed Éomer like a little puppy. Míriël's gaze trailed Númendil – followed Éomer – found me – and she promptly frowned.
She nodded quickly to Elaine, and the Lady Elaine was at my side at once, leading my away from Éomer to introduce me to the various lords and ladies.
I don't think Éomer even noticed, cornered as he was by the lords of Gondor intent on discussing the situation of Harad and Khand and Nurn with the King of Rohan. This feast was the perfect opportunity to feel the ground for the upcoming spring council.
I gave the pretty lady Morenna a wan smile and successfully ignored the idle chatter of the young ladies Eugilin and Morwen. With politics and threats of war, would we ever have time for one another? My gaze drifted across the room towards Éomer. The King of Rohan was at the centre of a group of men involved in some heated debate. Númendil was standing patiently at his elbow, offering a goblet of white wine. For a moment Éomer's eyes met mine. For a dizzying second I knew exactly what he was thinking. Riding fast and far, only the two of us, our bodies pressed against each other…
Then he turned his back to me, forcing his attention on the grave monologue delivered by Duke Herion of Harondor.
I groaned and turned around myself. Just in time to notice a really strange expression on the face of the Lady Elaine. A cold, calculating expression. I frowned, but then the moment was gone and Elaine smiled at me charmingly. "Don't worry. The three months until your wedding will pass quickly." She told me, her voice warm with compassion. I nodded.
I still did not understand why the influential lady and powerful healer wanted to come with me to Edoras. I don't like things I don't understand. And with all that politicking, I find that I am getting very suspicious of people doing things for no apparent reason.
"If you will excuse me, Elaine, I think I will go and look for Éowyn." I smiled at Elaine, who inclined her head graciously. It was appropriate for me to spend time with Éowyn. It was not appropriate to spend my day clinging to Éomer.
Éowyn and Faramir were seated comfortably at one of the long tables on one of the terraces. It was a beautiful day, warm and golden, the air was filled with the promise of summer and the fragrance of roasts and sauces and other delicacies. The Steward of Gondor had for once extricated himself from any and all political debates. He had laid his right arm around his wife and was feeding her a salad of herring with a sauce of dill and yellow mustard. Around them their closest friends were gathered. Arwen was there, her plate heaped with food. She did not look left or right, but kept eating with single-minded concentration, watched by her bemused brothers. Beregond, the captain of Faramir's guard was there. Beregond had saved Faramir's life when his father had tried to kill himself and his son last year. To my surprise Helmichis was there, too. He was not at the table, but stood with his back to one of the white columns surrounding the terrace. Beregond was talking to him and there was the by now familiar slow smile on the broad face of my bodyguard.
Legolas and Gimli were comparing dishes with the hobbits. Between them there were about ten plates with different foods on the table. Erkenbrand and his squire Aelfriv were there, too, sitting with a lord whose features were vaguely familiar. Oh, yes, I recalled. That was Golasgil of Anfalas, and he looked familiar because he was distantly related to Prince Imrahil. But his hair was not quite as fair as the stunning white blond tresses of my adoptive father.
"Come and sit, Lothy!" Éowyn called out to me. "You have to try this food. It's delicious!"
Éowyn beckoned one of the servants over to us. "Please, would you get the Lady Lothíriel an assortment of these aestithen." The servant bowed and hurried away.
Éowyn gave me a brilliant smile. "I have the feeling I can eat all day today."
Faramir nuzzled her neck. "No, you won't dear heart. There will be dancing tonight. And I have plans…" He trailed off suggestively. I rolled my eyes.
"Where have you left my brother?" Éowyn asked, apparently noticing for the first time that I was sitting on the bench on my own. I grimaced. Now I knew what "completely gone on one another" really meant. A complete inability to take in the surroundings.
"He is discussing the spring council with a number of Gondorian lords if I am not mistaken." In a low voice I continued. "I think Aragorn put him up to it."
Then I sighed and took up the spoon as a plate filled to the brim with various antipasti was placed in front of me. "Anyway, Míriël and Elaine decided that it was not appropriate for me to stay with Éomer – not that he would have noticed… so I came here, searching for some company, food and fresh air."
"It seems you have found what you were looking for," Pippin said with an impudent grin. "Try those aubergines with garlic. I bet Éomer will love that."
I raised my eyebrows, trying to glare at the hobbit. But I did eat the aubergines – which were swimming in olive oil and were ripe with garlic and a touch of cumin.
It turned out that it was easy to spend a day eating in the company of friends – especially with a pregnant elven woman with an appetite of three and two ever hungry hobbits among them. Legolas was a connoisseur of fine wines and very willing to aid me in the appreciation of the served beverages.
Suddenly the torches around the terraces and the lanterns in the trees were lit against the falling twilight and I wondered where the day had gone.
I had spent at least nine hours eating, drinking and talking with my friends.
Now it was time for some entertainment. Faramir disentangled himself from his wife, taking his leave with a prolonged and passionate kiss.
I could not suppress a longing sigh. Where the hell had Éomer gone off to?
Suddenly he was there. In a graceful fluid motion he slid onto the bench next to me. I gasped with the touch of his thigh and arm against me. I felt more than hear and answering intake of breath on his part.
From across the table the sound of Pippin sniggering drifted to my ears. I simply closed my eyes and rested my head against Éomer's shoulder. To hell with propriety!
"Your highness, my queen, my king, your highness, my ladies and lords of Gondor and Rohan. My friends from near and far. Above all, my beloved wife!" Faramir stood at the centre of the free area at the far end of the terrace. His face was soft in the light of the torches and candles. Behind him singers, musicians and various artists were waiting for their cues.
Faramir smiled at Éowyn and continued. His clear voice was warm with happiness. "I am happy and grateful that we are gathered here today to celebrate my union in marriage with the most wonderful woman of all of Arda: Éowyn of Rohan, and now Lady of Ithilien. I would like to ask all of you to lay at rest now all discussions of politics and economics. You have had sufficient opportunity for debate and discussion all day, and you will have ample time for it next week at the spring council in Minas Tirith. Tonight I would ask you to celebrate with me and my beautiful wife. Let us sing and dance and enjoy ourselves. This is our day of paradise. Leave all troubles and sorrows behind you and be glad! I want you to remember this day, because today, life is good."
He raised his goblet to the assembled. "Today, life is good!"
Suddenly there was a painful lump in my throat. I remembered when I had heard those words before. It had been two years ago when I had watched the extended edition of the movie "The Two Towers". Boromir had said that in the movie. For a moment I felt tears burning in my eyes. And I wondered if the shimmer in Faramir's eyes meant that Boromir had said those words once in real life, too.
Around me everyone lifted their glasses, mugs and goblets in answer. I felt my hand shaking slightly as I followed suit. "Today, life is good!"
"And now let there be songs, and dances and entertainment until the night is over – and of course, as much food as you can eat and as much wine as you can drink!" Faramir nodded at the hobbits and at Legolas.
A cheer swept around the terraces and the gardens and the house at large.
The musicians struck up a merry dance, and soon the empty space on the terrace was filled with swirling couples.
Today, life is good…
"Meet me on the other side of the house? Close to the turret?" Éomer whispered into my ear, his voice husky. A shiver ran down my back.
I nodded silently, my heart pounding.
"You go first."
I forced a smile and climbed out of the bench. My knees felt wobbly with desire. I had spent most of the day planning how I could manage a moment alone with my beloved. A moment for kisses and some words meant only for his ears.
First I went for the toilet. The first real toilet I had ever seen in all of Gondor. Yes, I admit it. Gimli asked me. I gave him a description. But he had seen what they did in Caras Galadhon before that. So he could have come up with it on his own.
I left the villa through the front doors.
The drive way was lit with torches, and the windows were bright with candle light. There was no one to be seen. The great gates were shut. In the turrets to the sides of the gates lights flickered. Even tonight guards were on duty.
I looked around me, making sure that I was alone.
Then I swiftly walked to the far corner of the front gardens. Here the shadows were dark and shifting. It was cool and the din of many voices was muffled by the walls of the villa.
I inhaled deeply the soft sweet air of night. It was good to get away from the crowd. It was better still to know that in a moment Éomer would be here with me.
Suddenly I heard a strange noise.
My heart was in my mouth at once, beating so hard that I thought my chest would burst.
The noise seemed to come from the other side of the wall.
It was a scrabbling, clinking noise. Not loud. A scratching. A growl. Claws against a white wall.
The shadows seemed to deepen around me.A scream was suddenly lodged in my throat.
There it was again.
It sounded like claws scratching against stone. But this time they seemed to be farther up the wall.
Was that an evil-voiced whisper? A growl of a deadly command?
Run away, Lothíriel. Or simply scream.
But I was frozen with panic. Unable to move. Unable to scream. Unable to think.
A shadow moved at the edge of the wall that did not belong to this soft night of summer...
A/N: I know I am evil... and I am away for the weekend. ;-)