These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain.

Nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. : Bible, Luke 12:2...

For a moment, both men regarded the tub of steaming water. It was very different to what they were accustomed to in Minas Tirith, where their vast sunken baths would easily accommodate several people. Yet, compared with the basins of water they had used in the cave, it was sheer luxury.

"You should go first, Faramir," Aragorn said as soon as they were alone. He hoped that once Faramir undressed, he might have some answers to his Steward's puzzling behaviour.

"No, you must go first, sire." Faramir insisted.

"But the water will get cold while you are helping me!" Aragorn protested.

"And your wounds could easily become infected from my grime!" Faramir retorted, "As a healer you should know that! So come on, let me help you undress!"

"Very well," Aragorn sighed, resigning himself to his ordeal. " I wish I did not have to ask you to bathe me."

"You will soon be well enough to do it yourself, now that you have Eowyn and your lady to help you," Faramir soothed while he started to unlace Aragorn's tunic. He lifted it over his head, followed by his shirt.

The King was so frail that already he was starting to shiver, despite the warmth from the stove. Faramir wanted to get him in the warm water quickly but found himself struggling with Aragorn's bandages, which seemed to have stuck.

"Leave the bandages to soak off!" Aragorn told him, "That is what I do when bathing a wounded man."

"I know that you did the same for me and more only a few months ago." Faramir replied, removing the last of the King's clothing and tactfully averting his eyes, as he helped him into the bath, a somewhat difficult feat given Aragorn's long limbs. Only by drawing up his knees was he even able to sit down. "I only wish I had some healing powers like yours then I could ease your pain!" Faramir bit his lip as he spoke, all too aware that he had inflicted some of that agony.

"Do you really?" Aragorn would have said more, but concentrated on biting back his cries when the water stung his raw wounds, knowing that if he cried out, Eowyn would most likely come rushing in. He presumed Arwen was occupied with Eldarion as he could hear him crying.

Faramir picked up a washcloth and handed another to Aragorn. "If you are able to, maybe you would like to wash your um, delicate parts while I bathe your back and wash your hair," he said.

Aragorn nodded, grateful for his Steward's tact in trying to preserve some dignity for him. Faramir washed his hair, while the bandages soaked free and then unwound them. Some of the older wounds were revealed as partially healed but the one on his waist started to bleed afresh, as did those on his chest and arms.

"I told you, you should have bathed first!" Aragorn said ruefully regarding the fast reddening hue of the water.

"I have bathed in far worse," Faramir replied, remembering his days in the army when they would draw lots for who would have the first use of the bath, a small tub much like this one. During a lull in the fighting, it would be filled with heated water and concealed behind a makeshift screen. Often when it came to his turn, the water seemed grimier than a muddy puddle!

He gently bathed Aragorn's wounds as best he could, and then rubbed his back and legs more vigorously. Satisfied he had done the best he could, he lifted him out and wrapped him in a thick towel.

"I will get you dried and ready for Eowyn and your lady to tend your wounds, then come back and have my own bath." he said.

"You will be needed, so you had better bathe first," Aragorn insisted, flinching despite Faramir's best efforts not to aggravate his wounds. The white towel was now covered in scarlet blotches.

Faramir sighed inwardly, having hoped for a leisurely soak in private. However,he could hardly complain, his plight being nothing compared to the King's.

"Have no fear, I will stay for as long as you have need of me!" Faramir replied, gripping one of the cold hands. The other, where the fingers had been broken lay limp and useless. At least his wounds now appeared to have almost stopped bleeding. He swathed Aragorn in dry towels, feeling grateful that Eowyn had provided sufficient. He then settled him on a chair nearer the stove.

Turning his back on the King, he began to quickly undress, unaware that he was being scrutinized intently. He had just removed his tunic and shirt when Aragorn's voice startled him.

"Turn around, please, and come here!"

Somewhat alarmed, he hastened to do as he was bidden. "Do you feel unwell, my lord?" he enquired anxiously.

"Lift your arms!" Aragorn ordered, studying him intently with those piercing grey eyes of his.

Never had Faramir expected to feel embarrassed at his lack of scars, but he did so now. He shivered uncomfortably.

"I needed to see if you too had been put to torment, as that would have accounted for your conduct." The King sounded almost disappointed.

" No man raised his hand against me. I acted of my own free will," Faramir said quietly, unable to meet Aragorn's gaze. "I am sorry but I had no other choice."

"No choice but to continue to torment me, even when no others were present?"

"No, my lord." How could he ever explain that had he let the traitor's mask slip even for a moment, he did not know if he would have had the strength to don it again?

"You reminded me very much of your father," Aragorn said cryptically. "I never thought I would see his coldness and resentment in your eyes!"

"I am sorry," Faramir repeated. He was shivering uncontrollably now. He could make no excuses for his conduct, nor would he burden a sick man with his guilt and remorse. All that mattered now was to restore Aragorn to health and his rightful place.

"You had better have your bath," Aragorn said morosely. He stared fixedly at the floor and did not look up again until Faramir had finishedbathing and was almost dressed again.

The Steward was just pulling on his clean shirt when Eowyn's voice called, "How are you getting on?"

"We will be ready soon," he replied, picking up his tunic.

"I will lay out my healing supplies in the bedroom," she called back." Bereth has changed the bed linens and laid towels across the bed. Fortunately, I brought plenty with us."

"Can you keep Elbeth out of the way?" Faramir asked.

"She is still playing with the cats outside. I will tell her to go with Bereth to the barn. But don't be too long, we are waiting!"

"We are coming!" Fastening his tunic as he spoke, Faramir helped Aragorn up from the chair and they slowly made their way into the bedroom.

Arwen was already waiting by the side the bed when they came through the door and helped Faramir lay the King down with a pillow under his head. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood stained towels covering him.

The Steward then stood back a little while Arwen sat beside her husband and clasped his hand. The fire burned high in the grate, making the room comfortably warm.

"This will only distress you, vanimelda, " Aragorn told her gently, "You are not accustomed to the hurts of mortals and how slowly our wounds heal. It would be best if you stayed with our son."

Arwen shook her head. "Permit to stay with you, Estel, I need to know what ails you and I would help tend your wounds," she replied. "Eldarion and Elestelle are sleeping at present."

"Very well, you may stay for a while. Though I would not have you see me thus!" Aragorn replied with a catch in his voice.

"I am your wife for good or ill!" Arwen said staunchly, stroking his hair back from his face tenderly and suddenly noticing the missing clumps. "What happened to your hair, my love?"

"Hanna found it amusing to tear out clumps of my hair and beard," Aragorn replied bleakly.

"That is why we shaved before we came here," Faramir added."Hanna's cruelty gave the King too distinctive an appearance. He swallowed hard, remembering his first glimpse of him in the cellar.

Just then, Eowyn bustled in laden with bandages.

Faramir noticed the King give an involuntary shudder, though whether at the ordeal ahead or the prospect of the two women scrutinising his wounds, he was not certain.

"Well, let me see what I can do for you!" Eowyn said briskly but not unkindly. She would have pulled aside the towels without further preamble; but noticing Aragorn's look of abject misery, Faramir interrupted.

"Let me arrange the towels!" he volunteered.

She nodded and stood back, busying herself at the bedside table with her back to the King while Faramir wound one of the towels around his hips to preserve his modestyand casting the others to one side, exposing Aragorn's pitifully abused body to the gaze of the women. That this man, once so great and glorious, should be reduced to this, and at the hands of his own subjects, still made his stomach churn. Eowyn and Arwen, seeing his wounds for the first time, gave involuntary gasps of horror.

Arwen gazed in dismay at the harrowing sight of her husband's maimed and wasted frame, taking in everything from the wounds on his wrists and ankles, his swollen hands and feet to the brand on his shoulder and raw wounds on his chest, inner arms and belly. Bruises of various hues covered almost every inch of his body.

"Whatever did they do to you, Estel?" she whispered, her voice cracked with anguish.

"For every time I refused to sign a document authorising the marriage of our son and Elbeth, they took a patch of skin from me," Aragorn told her, his eyes full of sorrow at causing her such pain. Shaking, he fought against the urge to defensively cross his arms to hide his disfigured body, The brand stood out livid against his skin

Faramir stared at the floor unable to meet their eyes.

Aragorn steeled himself to look at his wife; afraid he would see revulsion in her usually loving eyes. She did not see him thus uncovered, even when he was healthy, as he always disrobed in the privacy of his dressing room. In the past, she had constantly reassured him that she was not disappointed by his lack of Elven perfection, yet how could such beauty endure such ugliness as now marred him?

TBC

A/N

A very big thank you all for all your much appreciated reviews and kind comments which have raised my total to an amazing 1,001! Quite an appropriate number as I am as fond of cliffhangers as Scheherazade!

I have replied to everyone who was logged in.