"My lady, I bid you please rise; lord Faramir is here to see you."
Saeorii tore herself from her warm dream and brought herself into her cold reality. She had been in Gondor for two months now and each day passed as the last one. She was woken by Maeve, bathed, ate and then spent the long winter days speaking with Maeve who had proved to be a wonderful companion. Then, every evening she was taken to the dining hall where, with bowed head, she would sit next to the silent king. That was all she ever saw of him for he rose before she woke and she went to bed before he came to their rooms, not that she minded. The little she saw of him each day was enough for her liking.
Maeve handed her robe to her as she stepped into her silk slippers before her feet touched the cold stone. She stretched and pulled it over her shoulders as she walked into the next room where she knew Faramir would be waiting. He was the only one who had welcomed her since her arrival. Her elven ears had often caught the foul whisperings of the councillors behind closed doors as she silently walked the halls, and the people had lost hope that she would return their great and honourable king to them.
"Good morning your majesty," he greeted bowing low.
He stood and felt his cheeks warm as he looked up and saw his queen in her nightgown, feeling as if he betrayed his Lady Eowyn with the feelings she stirred in him. He still could not understand how his king could remain blind to her no matter how great his loss.
"My queen, I am sorry." he stammered in embarrassment, hoping that elves could not truly read minds as some said. "I did not realize,"
"Good morning Lord Faramir," she greeted cheerfully, graciously dismissing his obvious embarrassment as she sat down in a chair next to the fire and motioned him to take the one opposite him. "Please, sit down."
"Of course. I came to tell you that the members of the foreign council have just arrived and there is to be a feast held in their honour this evening. The king requests your attendance."
"They must have fared better in the storm than we had feared," she replied politely.
"Yes, they did. They were able to find shelter among the trees of Fanghorn."
"That is good."
He watched for a moment as she undid the end of her braid. He longed again to see her deep blue eyes, but as she always did in his presence she would not look at him. He yearned to be able to teach her somehow that she did not need to fear him, but she was his queen and he knew that a friendship with her would be frowned upon. He hated all the ridiculous restrictions of his city and longed again to roam with the freedom that was his when he led the Rangers of Ithilien, but they would not ride again until spring. He watched as she drew further into her chair when he stood to leave; frightened by his sudden movement. He looked at Lady Maeve who had come to stand silently beside her.
She shook her head sadly at the young steward who looked at her with mournful eyes. He was such a kind man, she wished again as she had often in the past months that he were the ruler instead of King Elessar. She placed her hand on Saeorii's shoulder hoping somehow to give her the courage to look up and see that he meant her no harm but she would not.
"By you leave your majesty."
"Of course," Saeorii answered quickly, "and Lord Faramir." She heard his steps pause, "Thank you."
"Your welcome, my queen."
She did not move for a long time after he had left. She felt her involuntary fear of men fade as she listened to his steps echoing on the worn stones of the hallway. Maeve left her and returned a short time later carrying a tray with her breakfast.
"You must eat, young one," she spoke tenderly as she handed her a plate of dried fruits.
"Thank you."
"Lord Faramir is a good man." she said, obviously guessing her thoughts.
"I know. He has been very patient with me since I arrived; I only hope that I do not disappoint him this evening. This will be my first meeting of the foreign council and I do not wish to insult them, or make them think ill of Gondor because of me."
She looked up at the sound of Maeve's laughter.
"You are the least of our worries if we wish them to think well of Gondor. They will be enchanted by your beauty and grace, I'm sure."
She smiled although Maeve's words did little to reassure her of her own abilities.
Aragorn sat on the raised platform on which his chair and that of the queen had been raised. His guest's were entering the room in their proper order and he felt something he recognised as guilt stir in his heart as he caught sight of King Eomer and his sister Lady Eowyn. He had not seen them since before Arwen's death and he felt for the first time a small bit of embarrassment and shame at what he had become. They all remained seated as one of the guard's opened the door and the Queen of Gondor entered. He hated himself for his feelings embarrassment; they made him feel weak and so he replaced them with feelings of anger.
Eomer could not help but stare as the Queen stepped through the door. She was truly fairer than it was rumoured. Her head was bowed and slender hands were clasped in front of her as she turned and knelt before King Elessar. Her dress was garnet and trimmed with black, highlighting the design on her delicate crown. Her movements were timid and unsure as the king descended and it was then for the first time that he saw the dark look in the king's eyes.
Aragorn thrived on his feelings of anger, fuelling them with memories. Memories of Gandalf falling, Boromir's glazed eyes, Haldir's dead form in his arms. He remembered then Arwen and the fact that she had been taken from him. She had been taken and another had dared to take the place beside him that he had long ago given to her. With every step towards the queen he felt his anger grow until truly he trembled with rage. Her head was bowed as he descended the stairs, but her submissive stance only angered him more.
"How dare you!" he screamed, startling all those in the room into silence.
All their eyes were on him but he cared not as his hand reached out and sent her reeling against the stone walls. Instantly, Faramir was at her side and all the others seemed frozen as he stormed past her and out of the room.
Eowyn was the first to recover and felt her anger flare within her. She had heard that Aragorn had changed, but had never imagined that he could have changed so much from the great man who had come and rallied the hope of her people. She raced across the room towards the doors he had ran through and was quickly let pass by the young guards who recognised her.
"Which way did the king go?" she demanded of the guards.
The guards stayed silent but looked extremely uncomfortable under her piercing glare.
"Tell me where the king went or I shall have you hung myself!" she warned.
The guard only pointed to his left and watched in shock as she stormed quickly down the hall. She could not believe that he could stoop so low. Faramir had told her of the timid queen in his letters to her and she had looked forward to meeting her and getting to know her better. She spotted him in the hallway ahead of her.
"Stop!"
He kept going and she ran towards him. The shield maiden of Rohan would not be ignored. She grabbed his arm and forced her to face him. He glared at her coldly.
"You seem to forget to whom you speak, my lady," he said threateningly.
"It is no king," she returned.
"How dare you!" he cried and moved his hand as if to strike her.
"How dare I? Indeed you would regret it should you decide to strike me, you would find that I am not so tame as your queen. Why have you done this?"
Aragorn stood silent, but he was not ignoring her; he didn't have an answer. It had been like another had taken hold of him and hit the queen with his hand while he stood outside himself and watched. He felt now that there was nothing in life left for him but to run himself through with his own sword. When had the shadow taken hold of him? When had he become such a heartless creature?
"Do not dare tell me that it is in memory of the one you lost. Do not defile her name by claiming it is her loss that causes you to ignore your people and abuse your wife!" He could see Eowyn's anger, and knew that it was well deserved. "You shame the memory of your Lady Arwen, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You shame your people and you shame your own name which not long ago brought the only hope for the people of these lands, and now at its utterance they are disgusted or tremble in fear. Truly I do not know you, and I will not stay here, nor will I ever return while you sit upon the throne."
'Truly I do not know you.' Her words echoed through his mind as she turned and walked away from him and back towards the hall. He leaned against the cold wall in front of him and sighed.
"Nor do I, my lady," he whispered to her, "Nor do I."
Saeorii could not think. She had thought that staying here would end the blows. Truly, in comparison this one was not so bad, it was only one blow, but somehow it had shaken her to her very core. Faramir had carried her here when she fainted in fear and still now she shook so that she could not wipe away the blood from the deep cut that had been left by the renowned ring of Barahir. Maeve held a cool cloth to the side of her face and talked to her in a soft voice, trying to calm her.
She felt her tremors becoming less just as she heard the echoing footsteps of the one who had given new life to her old fears. She breathed deep and told herself that he would not hurt her with Maeve here, but she still could not stop a tiny whimper from escaping as the doors to the outer room were opened.
Aragorn slowly opened the door to his bedroom, unsure of what to expect. For some reason he half expected some wild beast to lunge at him and throw him to the ground. It had taken a long time to convince her lady, Maeve, to allow him to see her alone. In fact he was still unsure of why she had. He closed the door behind him quietly. She sat on the bed; the curtains along the side were pulled back. Even from where he stood he could see her shaking as if terribly cold and felt another stab of guilt knowing it was actually caused by fear of him. Slowly he walked over to her. The side of her face that was turned to him was already deeps shades of blue and purple. He winced inwardly as he noticed that his ring had cut her face as well. He stopped beside her watching as she visibly tried to calm herself.
He reached out, wishing only to wipe away one of her tears and she flinched quickly away. He bowed his head and did not try any further, but turned and walked towards the fire. 'You shame the memory of your Lady' He felt as if all the life were suddenly taken from him and he fell to the floor hard, but did not acknowledge the pain.
"Elbereth, forgive me!" He cried out in elvish, "Arwen, forgive me, please," he sobbed as he surrendered to his tears and for the first time since her death; he cried. "What have I done? What have I done?" he chanted in the fair tongue.
Saeorii sat motionless, listening to his cries for some time before she gathered the courage to peer around the curtain at the end of the bed. She saw him, broken on the floor, his body heaving with the force of his laments. She watched him for a moment before rising unsteadily to her feet. Cautiously she walked towards him as if she feared it was some trick and expected him at any moment to lunge at her, but he did not.
She knelt close to him and hesitantly reached out towards him and placed her hand on his back. He seemed unaware of her presence, but his sobs continued and tore at her heart despite her fear of him. In truth she did not fear this man who lay broken at her side and her heart longed to ease his pain.
She moved closer and slowly pulled him towards her. She lovingly cradled his head against her breasts, as a mother does her hurting child. She held him to her, stroking the side of his face tenderly with her small hand and letting her dress catch his tears. She slowly, began to rock back and forth as he continued to weep; oblivious it seemed, to her warm embrace. The sky cleared and the moon rose as she knelt there, letting the gentle breeze caress her, despite its chill. The stars gathered in her hair as it is said of elves and created a silver halo around her dark head as she rocked gently back and forth, back and forth, back and forth; cradling the broken king while the moon made its long journey across the star strewn vaults of heaven.
To be continued...
Thanks to my first reviewer, Luthien, and thanks for the advice Estel-Ara and hope that you will continue to read my story. I love to get reviews, hope to hear from you soon and will try to post soon!
