CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Three and a half weeks later that Eldarion caught sight of the familiar white that was his beloved city. Elboron laughed as Eldarion kicked Suldal into a cantor, Díorn on his heels. Shaking his head, one of the rangers in the entourage raised the trumpet that slung at his hip and gave a short blast on the instrument. It was answered a moment later by the rampart trumpet of Minas Tirith.
"Open the Gates," yelled a guard as Eldarion and Díorn cantered towards them. It was then that he recognised exactly who was running towards them.
"It's the Prince!" he yelled. "Lord Eldarion is back!"
An excited mutter shot around the guard and before anyone could fully comprehend what was happening, people were streaming from houses, taverns and workshops and into the main market square. A few of the youngsters pushed their way to the front of the crowd vying with each other as to who was going to greet Eldarion first.
As the Gate opened and Eldarion came clattering into his city, a loud cheer went up from the crowd. Suldal and Díorn's mount came to a stand still as they were surrounded by people and their riders dismounted, both laughing at the impromptu welcome committee. As soon as they were stable, the two were immediately set upon by every child under the age of ten, each one demanding to be heard and all clamouring for the tale of their exploits in Rohan.
As Elboron, Rosruin and the rest of the warriors entered the square, a rendition of a military victory song began somewhere in the crowd. Soon the whole crowd was singing at the top of their voices and, as Elboron and Díorn lifted Eldarion on to their shoulders, thunderous cheers joined the noise.
Welcome home, gwador nîn thought Elboron. my brother
Faramir, Éowyn and a majority of the Council were waiting at the foot of the steps to the Citadel ready to greet Eldarion, a messenger having raced up to the seventh level to inform the Steward that Eldarion had returned.
As the troop arrived in the Courtyard of the Fountain, the horses were immediately taken from their riders by an awaiting host of stable hands while the warriors marched up to the awaiting nobles.
Formal bows (and courtesy in Éowyn's case) were exchanged before Eldarion and Elboron settled for the slightly more intimate greeting of clasping Faramir's hand and gripping the corresponding upper arm, while Éowyn received a kiss on the back of her hand. More affectionate gestures could be exchanged later when in private but for now formalities had to be observed.
"Welcome back to Minas Tirith, my Lords," said Faramir. "You must be tired after your travel. Would you prefer to eat or rest first?"
"Eat," replied four voices at one, earning the group a few reproving looks from some of the Council. Faramir simply shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips while Éowyn chuckled lightly.
"This way," said the Steward, extending a hand, indicating that the four should precede him.
Three hours later, Eldarion emerged from his bathing chamber feeling decidedly more human. He was convinced he had clogged the drain with the sweat and grime that had accumulated on his skin during the journey from Annúminas but at the moment couldn't bring himself to care.
Tossing his towel aside and pulling on the trouser section of his sleep suit, Eldarion flopped on to his bed, burying his head into his pillows and inhaled deeply. It really was good to be home.
A knock sounded on the door and Eldarion groaned. Rolling up into a sitting position he called out "Enter!"
The door opened and in waltzed a maiden on the court. Eldarion bit the inside of his bottom lip to prevent a groan escaping. The maiden was Rodwen, daughter of Cúnír and she had been trying to attract the romantic attention of Eldarion for the best part of two years. So far, the only attention she received from the Prince was formal and lukewarm at best.
"Lady Rodwen," greeted Eldarion as he pulled a sleeved tunic over his head. The last thing he needed was Rodwen's sympathetic comments about the newest additions to his collection of scars.
"Lord Eldarion, it is so good to have you safe again," said Rodwen sitting down on the foot of Eldarion's bed. Eldarion remained where he was at the head.
"My heart stopped when news was told of your fall."
If only it had stopped, thought Eldarion. Aloud he said; "I am glad to see you recovered. But other than in battle, I was completely safe."
"You must be glad to be home. The year you spent in the north must have been agonising, especially when combined with you wounds," said Rodwen, completely changing the subject. Eldarion blinked.
"Home is where the heart dwells and where the spirit can run free," said Eldarion. Rodwen, seemingly very impressed with Eldarion's answer, moved further up the bed and ran a finger up Eldarion's calf. Eldarion tucked his legs against his chest in response.
"My Lady, I would ask you to act in accordance with your station," he said, making his warning none to subtle.
"Can a lady not offer her Lord some comfort after the trauma he has so recently suffered?" simpered Rodwen.
"I have no need for the comfort you are offering," replied Eldarion standing and moving over to his window.
"None of us know what we need until we have it," said Rodwen.
"I can assure you Lady Rodwen, that fornication is the last thing I need," said Eldarion turning to face Rodwen. "Now, if you would please leave. I have been travelling for three weeks and would like to rest before even meal."
"You make it sound so callus when you call an act of devotion and love fornication," said Rodwen, getting to her feet and crossing to stand before Eldarion.
"It is not love you feel my Lady," said Eldarion, catching the hand that was making its way over the cusp of his shoulder and on to his cheek. "It is lust. Now please leave."
"Should you accept your feelings, you have but to call for me," said Rodwen before waltzing back out of the room.
Eldarion released a relieved sigh and crossing to the door, slid the bolt home. If Elboron or Díorn wished to see him before even meal, they would use the secret passage. Other than that, Eldarion was unavailable. Shrugging off his tunic, Eldarion flopped back on to his bed and quickly surrendered to sleep.
It is said that there is no rest for the wicked. The same seemed to be true of the Kings and Princes. No sooner had Eldarion received yet another, and more official, welcome back to Gondor than he was bombarded by petitions. A majority of the concerned the up coming harvest of winter wheat and barely. If treated badly, things could turn nasty very quickly. The farmers, being a community within a community, looked out for each other and if they found that one had received unfair treatment from the nobles, there was the strong possibility of protest either in the form of go-slows or with holding of crop surplus. Neither of these were particularly healthy for the Gondorian population at large so it was better to keep the farmers happy. However, thanks to Eldarion's and Faramir's superior negotiating skills, a majority of those who approached the council went away appeased even if they weren't entirely satisfied.
The next matter was of a slightly more personal matter for Eldarion, though if he had anything to do with it, the matter of his lack of marriage, or indeed interest in such a pursuit, would not be mentioned for at least another few years.
"You must see our position my Lord," said Arodon. "If you had died in battle last year, without leaving an heir to succeed you, it would have caused more than a few political problems."
"Might I remind you that I myself am only heir to Gondor. I am not yet her King and I will not be so for several more years," said Eldarion, leaning forward from his position on the steps to the Throne. "As for my lack of heir, my sister has an infant son. Before I left Annúminas, I spoke to her and her husband. I have their permission to name Arndír heir to my title and estate should I fall before my father without first siring an heir myself."
"The son of a Dúnedain wanderer?" sneered Carnir.
"I am the son of a Dúnedain wanderer," said Eldarion. "As is your King. Do not belittle the people of the North Carnir, they have a more claim to that chair you sit in than you do."
"Getting back to the matter in hand," said Pilimór before Carnir let his tongue engage before his brain. "Eldarion, why are you so objectionable to the idea of marriage? One such as yourself would have much to offer such a union."
"Because this is what many of the maidens will be looking to marry," said Eldarion tapping the official coronet on his head. It was certainly one of the things he had not missed when running around the north or when in battle. "Especially the maidens of this Court. Which reminds me, Cúnír can you please inform Rodwen, yet again, that I am not interested in her romantic advances and that she would be better to spend her energy on looking for someone who is."
Cúnír nodded while Carnir turned to Eldarion. "The Lady Rodwen is perfect material for the wife of a Prince," he said.
"No she isn't," replied Eldarion leaving it at that, namely to protect Cúnír from hearing derogatory remarks about his daughter.
"You spend too much time in the company of the Ithilien heir, who incidentally, should also be preparing for marriage," muttered Nírorn. Faramir chuckled but did not comment.
"Why not the Lady Lothrín of Dol Amroth?" said Thiad. Faramir's head shot up while Eldarion choked on the lemonade he had just swallowed.
"She's family!" exclaimed Eldarion, coughing to clear his windpipe. Lothrín was the youngest daughter of Prince Erchirion and was about a year younger than Faerveren. While she was a worthy candidate socially, and less likely to be interested in Eldarion's own status, she was also Faramir's cousin and because of Eldarion's surrogate status within in the Ithilien family, marrying her simply seemed wrong on an ideological level.
"To Lord Elboron perhaps, though not closely enough to forbid marriage, but to you she is only a casual acquaintance," replied Thiad.
"No!" stated Eldarion standing up. "If you are going to insist that I marry, it will be to someone other than the members of Elphir's family. The same applies to Díorn's nieces! If there is no other business to discuss, I am calling a halt to this session."
With more than a few mutters, the Council stood, gathered together their papers and departed at varying speeds of 'shuffle'. When the last person had left, Eldarion turned to Faramir with a pleading look on his face.
"Please forbid that marriage," he said. Faramir chuckled.
"It would be fruitless of them to try and gain Lothrín's approval to such an idea," he said as he sat beside Eldarion on the step. "Lothrín is already promised to a Sea Captain in her father's navy and by all accounts, the pair are very much in love. A proposal from the heir to Gondor will not sway her heart or take away Erchirion's favour."
Eldarion couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him at that news. "I take it this is a relatively new development?"
"I received the joyous tidings from a what seemed to be a very proud father three days ago. At the moment it is just within the family. A formal announcement will be made in due course but Erchirion never was one for keeping things to himself," said Faramir. Eldarion chuckled.
"Eldarion, why are you so resistant to the idea of marriage? Pilimór is right, you would bring so much to such a union. And don't give me the excuse that people would marry your crown rather than you," said Faramir turning serious.
"If I marry now, I will have no Queen," said Eldarion. "My father is still as virile as he was when he became King and does not appear to be thinking of abdicating. I do not age the same way the rest of my people do, particularly since my Elven blood is more concentrated. I will outlive the one I marry, and if I beget a son before I become King, what is to stop me out living him as well?"
"I understand your concerns Eldarion, but are you really going to put off such a special union because of that?"
Eldarion let out a frustrated sigh. "I will make a deal with you Faramir," he said. "If I meet some one who touches my heart and sets my soul aflame then yes, I will marry and come what may. But I will not be badgered into an arranged marriage, regardless of the benefits. Brides are not to be bargained as though they are goods for sale at a market stall. Am I understood?"
"Perfectly," smiled Faramir. "Now come, tell me, how are your family?"