As they walk, Faramir repeatedly looks at Éowyn. She has been frowning the entire time. But so far she has not yet spoken up. He does not feel the need to ask her. Not yet. However, he will not wait much longer. It is bothering her and has started to bother him. Also, he wants to ease whatever it is. After another, three turns, he finds it has lasted long enough.
"Éowyn, what is bothering you so much?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
"I do not mind."
"I do. I do not want to bother you with my problems."
"You will not bother me with them."
Éowyn lifts an eyebrow but does not react any further. He sighs internally before voicing the question which has been on his mind for a while now. It is time for it.
"Has it to do with what I told you?"
"Maybe. Why do you keep asking?"
"I keep asking as it has been bothering you. I only want to aid you."
"You do not have to. I do not want to bother you as I said before."
"And as I said before, I do not mind."
"You do not give up, do you?"
"No, not at all."
Éowyn laughs and shakes her head. He smiles, pleased he managed to ease her worry. If only for a bit because her face sours almost immediately. He waits for her to speak up. She needs to be willing because he will not force her to speak when she does not want to. Not that he will give up. When she sighs, he is certain she will speak up soon. If not immediately.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did the requirements change from what you told me before?"
"Did we not talk about it?"
Faramir frowns. He is certain they talked about it. Has she forgotten? Éowyn looks at him questionably.
"I thought you would not mind where I to speak about what is on my mind."
"I do not. I simply wonder why you ask it now."
"Because our time in silence allowed me to sort out my thoughts. It is what brought some confusion to my mind."
"You are confused about why it changed?"
"Yes, you said something about it earlier but it doesn't explain it fully to me."
His eyes widen. He suddenly understands what she means. And what escaped him until now.
"That is understandable. And not even unexpected."
"Why is it not unexpected to you?"
"As I only knew what I told the first time. I didn't know it well enough as I should have been expected to."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I knew the ancient law quite well enough but thought it was an obsolete law."
"Obsolete?"
"Yes, from the time of the ancient kings. Did I not tell you that? Well, that is the reason why I never studied them. They were never important enough for that."
"And what does it say?"
"The change I mentioned."
"So it is because of the law and nothing else?"
"Yes, what did you think?"
"I thought it was something recently. Not that it was something from a long time ago. And well …"
"It is not."
"No."
Silence falls between them. They walk on. Faramir's thoughts return to the change. He thinks about how he can best explain it to her. As he thinks about it his mind moves to the king. To what he has seen. It brings one thought to his mind which he voices quickly. And before he is aware of it.
"I wonder what the king is like."
"What do you mean?"
"I have only seen him from afar and do not clearly remember ever meeting him. I know I have; more than one person has told me so. But I do not know what to expect from him. Nor what he will be like."
"Why are you wondering about it now?"
Éowyn looks at him questionably. He shrugs. He has indeed been wondering about it before. He just has not spoken about it outside of his mind.
"Well, we will need to work with him. Father told me that the king will not cause us any problems. Nevertheless, I would like to know a bit more about what I can expect."
"That is understandable."
"You have met him, right?"
"Yes, I have. I believe I told you that before."
"Maybe, I remember something about it but I am afraid the details escape me at this moment. Would you mind telling me about him?"
"I can but before I do that tell me one thing; what have you seen of the future king? Or at least what you remember of him."
"I remember a man who looked just like a Númenorean. Or at least for as much as I could see from a distance. He felt powerful and blessed. That is the feeling I can remember. It is also the best way I can describe it. Kind also."
"Mhh, he does have the air like a noble around him. That is for sure. I know he has extensive knowledge of the healing arts. And that he is kind and just. He did not allow my uncle to be controlled by his emotions. Something I am grateful for even if I understand my uncle's emotions at that time. Oh, and he has also been a sellsword in the past or so I have heard."
"Truly?"
"Yes. I have heard people mentioning it. Do you know his name?
"No, I do not remember a name being used. Maybe a nickname but not a true name."
"Mhh, well his name is Aragorn. He knew my uncle or that is the impression I got. I also know he has another name which I was unable to figure out. Or I have forgotten. I am not sure. Maybe your father will know it."
"I think he does."
"Then you should ask him."
"Maybe."
"Is there anything else you remember?"
"He is a great warrior. What is it that you like to know?"
"I just like to get a read on him. I want to know what his reaction will be."
"To our plan to marry. Or what it will mean for your life."
"Both but mostly the first. I would be able to find a new meaning in life. Besides, I would not mind an easier life than I have now.
"I think we both want that, Faramir."
"I know."
He falls silent for a moment. His eyes move up to the front. They land on the brightly lit walls of the gardens. He breathes calmly as his eyes move over all the flowers he can see in front of himself. His mind is blank as he waits to determine what to say.
"What do you think lord Aragorn will do?"
"As for deciding. I am not sure, Éowyn. I am not sure."
"Well, what do you believe?"
"What I said before. But I hope he will allow us to marry. So what will we do then?"
"You do not know."
The tone in her voice is disbelieving. At the same time, she looks at him intensely. As if she is trying to figure out what he is thinking. Or trying to pressure him into something. He is not sure. He bites the inside of his cheek and feels his resolve crumbling.
"We will make the best of this situation. It is all we can do. As well as convincing lord Aragorn to permit us to marry once and if he will be crowned."
Éowyn nods as they turn around another corner. Their attention turns back to their walk through the garden. Nevertheless, he does not forget what they just talked about.
Denethor POV
Denethor steps into the Houses of Healing and looks around. Healers and assistants are moving around quickly but calmly and efficiently. The effects of the siege have calmed down. The normal level of activity has returned. He nods, glad to see this. Here, peace is returning. The peace from over a year ago. Which has been absent all this time. This is what he wants to see. As he sees this, he looks around for something else. Or more likely, someone else; Princess Éowyn.
He wants to meet her. He wants to know who this woman is who Faramir wants to marry. He wants to know what attracts Faramir to her. All he knows is what he has heard so far. She knows how to use weapons. She also knows how to lead a household. It is too little to satisfy his curiosity. He wants to make his judgment of her. He keeps his eyes ahead and ignores all the people who look at him. Their curiosity is clear to him. It is however at this time unimportant.
"My lord, how can I aid you? Do your wounds bother you?"
He turns to the side and immediately has his suspicion of who spoke to him confirmed.
"Master Neston, it is good to see you."
"Yes, it is but you did not answer my question yet, my lord."
"I am here for another matter than my wounds. But thank you for your concern, master Neston."
"So, they do not bother you? I am pleased to hear that. May I then ask why you are here?"
"Do you know where I can find Princess Éowyn?"
"I do. Why do you ask?"
Master Neston narrows his eyes. There is also something in his voice. It is almost like a concern. But for who? Certainly, not for himself. He crooks his head while wondering what caused it. As well as for who it is.
"I would like to meet with her to clear up a few things for myself."
"Mhh, I know she is not in her room. I suspect she is in the garden. If not then I would have to ask around."
"I will check in the garden then."
"Of course, my lord. I expect you in my office once you are done. Your wounds need attention even if they do not bother you. Or if you think you can ignore them."
He nods but says no more. All he does is walk away towards the garden. That is where he needs to be. He walks through the hallways with a single-minded focus. No one is allowed to disturb him. This he moves around anyone who even remotely hinders him. He fails to notice the concerned looks thrown his way.
Once he finally steps into the gardens, he first looks around. His eyes immediately land on the soldiers. They are moving around easily though some are still leaning on crutches. Some are working in the gardens under close oversight of the herb-masters, gardeners, and healers. As he looks over the working people, his eyes catch sight of a white dress. He looks this person over. The last time he saw Éowyn, she wore a white dress. Does she wear one now? As he looks at the person, someone pushes slightly into their side. The person turns towards them. They talk with the other person who tilts their head in his direction. It allows him to see his suspicion was the right one; it is indeed Princess Éowyn.
Éowyn stands up once their eyes meet. She dusts off her shirt with one arm. The other is held in a sling. He walks toward her while she does the same thing.
"Good afternoon, Your Highness."
"Good morning, my lord. You were looking for me? What can I do for you?"
"I would like to speak with you for a moment."
"Of course, …"
"Shall we go elsewhere so we can talk in private?"
"Yes, of course. If you would follow me. I know a place where we can talk."
"Then lead the way, Your Highness."
Princess Éowyn nods before turning around and walking away. He follows her while paying close attention to where she is taking him. So far, they are walking in the direction of a secluded section of the gardens. It means they can either stay here or go into the noble wing. It will not be too far from there. But he will have to see which is the right one. And only time will tell him.
Suddenly, Princess Éowyn turns a corner. He frowns but follows her. He did not expect her to take this turn. He does not even know where this one leads to. It's one he's never been to too often in the past. And all the people he has ever seen turning to this corner are the staff of the Houses. How does she even know about it? He keeps his eyes on their path as he memorizes what he sees. When princess Éowyn stops, he has to grind his feet into the ground to prevent himself from crashing into her. She immediately turns around.
"We can talk here in private. I have been told no one comes by here at this time of the day."
"Mhh, who told you that if I may ask?"
"One of the healers when I inquired her about a quiet place to relax."
He nods as he's satisfied with the answers. At least for now. Princess Éowyn stares at him as she taps her fingers on her arm.
"May I ask why you liked to talk to me?"
"I would like to know how you have experienced your stay in the Houses."
Princess Éowyn stares even more at him. A questionable look crosses her face. He keeps his face impassive while struggling to bite back a smile. She must know it. There is no other way.
"It has been decent. Especially after meeting Captain Faramir. Our breakfasts are a welcome break from everything."
"And you break your fast here?"
"Well, here in the garden of the Houses? Yes, we do. There is nowhere else where we at frost could break our fast. And ever since we could leave no one brought it up."
"If you like then you can break your fast in the Steward's House in the future."
"I will think about it."
"Good. What do you do during the day?"
"I spend most of my time either walking, resting, or aiding the healers."
"Aiding the healers?"
"Yes."
"May I ask why?"
"Because I want to help people. I want to do something different with my life than I did before. Especially after the war."
"The war? Now that you mention it, how did you experience it?"
"As a burden. Nothing more and nothing less."
"A burden?"
"Yes, my uncle expected too many things from me. Too many for the time and my frame of mind. In the end, I was not allowed to do what I wanted."
"And what did you want to do?"
"I wanted to fight with my people. Especially near the end when it all looked so bleak."
"May I ask what your uncle expected from you?"
"He wanted me to stay home and rule in his stead."
"Not an unreasonable request in my opinion."
"Really, not unreasonable? Why do you think it would matter if Mordor were to have succeeded? I wouldn't have been able to do much for them. Only lengthen the suffering of my people."
"You could have given them hope and guided them somewhere safe."
"And where would that safety have been found? Nowhere. Fighting with my people would have made the most impact. And I managed to kill a Nazgul. That accounts for something."
"A feat which no one has ever been able to do."
"Indeed. If you could excuse me, I feel I need to rest."
"Of course, Your Highness. I would not want to endanger your health."
Princess Éowyn does not say anything in response. She just turns around and leaves him be. He frowns. He must have upset her somehow. He does not know how. He shakes his head as he looks around. The trees whistle around him. Birds sing. He looks up and the sun stings his eyes through the treetops. He closes his eyes to stop the stinging. Then he takes a deep breath. He smells the fresh air around him. So much different from before and during the siege.
His mind moves back to the conversation he has had. His first question. It was an attempt to not arouse suspicion in her. He just wanted to learn as much as he could from her. An objective he succeeded in. Her answers gave him a good insight into her personality. It will allow him to determine how best to approach her. Nevertheless, as he realized earlier, he did upset her. It is not something he can be bothered with right now. Now, he will return to his room.
Citadel, Minas Tirith
As he leans back in his chair, Denethor looks at the desk in front of him. It is littered with papers, scrolls, and books. Mostly scrolls if he's being honest. He sighs. He can see the amount of work before him but can't seem to focus on it. At all. His mind moves constantly back to his meeting with princess Éowyn.
From it, he has gotten a good view of what princess Éowyn wants for her future. And how she looked at the future in the past. And he knows her character much better now. He smiles when he remembers the fire she was carefully hiding. Even though her distaste for him was not hidden at all. Her glances and grimaces were more than obvious. Something he ignored then. She must have heard about him from Faramir and is already protective of him. It is a good thing. Faramir has made a good choice.
One thing he does not like too much; her skills with weapons. It is unconventional but not unwelcome. She is skilled with it as she is credited with killing one of the Nazgul as well as their fell beast. Thus it might serve them well in the future. Especially if they are ever attacked somewhere.
One thing he is glad about; her disinterest in joining battles for the foreseeable future. She is more interested in the healing arts. Her words and presence in the garden point towards it. It is an acceptable choice for a noblewoman. As well as leading a household. She will have to do this after they are married. He will not oppose their plans to marry nor will Gil. He has always had a soft spot for lovers. He knows Gil will be the one to decide once he is crowned. He will not have much of a say in it regardless of the situation. Faramir will do what he can to marry her and will be looking into any way he can ensure it.
Minas Tirith
Lord Pedwegon POV
Pedwegon walks through the sixth level. He clenches his fists as he grinds his teeth. He just left his latest talk with some lords. He wanted their support. His allies and he do not want the Northerner to become their king. They want lord Denethor to reject the claim once it is made. Even though he seems to have acknowledged the Northerner as his king already. Lord Denethor can change his acknowledgment. There are many reasons he can use to justify it. But first, they need to convince him to take this path. And for that they need support. Something he has been trying desperately to find and gain. So far without success.
So far, he has talked with many lords. As well as some important men. None want to aid them publicly. If they agree with them, that is. Only one or two seemed to be slightly susceptible. One group was not even willing to go against their steward at all. Another group deems it unwise or impossible to convince him otherwise. He is not sure which one it was exactly. He sighs. He has to go to the next group he can find. Hopefully, he will have better luck with them. Not that he has much hope. Nevertheless, he refuses to give up.
He turns around a corner and sees his destination in the distance. The closer he gets, the more people he can see gathered there. And how much better he can identify them. It also allows him to see those he intends to speak with are present.
"My lords, good morning. May I have a moment of your time?"
"Lord Pedwegon. Of course, let us go inside then."
He nods and follows lord Bírion into the building. He does not pay much attention to where they are going. All which goes through his mind is how to convince him to join their effort. Thus his eyes are on the ground and he only looks up once they enter a room. A few other lords are already present. He smiles. This will make things even easier than he thought. And they listened to his request. Two good signs. He hopes.
"Well, lord Pedwegon. Why are you here?"
"I would godly explain that to you all."
"It has nothing to do with your other meeting, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I have heard several things."
"Like what? Share with us because I have also heard several things."
"Want to compare notes?"
Pedwegon balls his fists. His nails dig into his hands. He knows what they are doing; ridiculing him. He does not like it but considering their looks; any attempt to stop them will end up being all the more horrible for him. More than this at least. He hears them talking but does not listen to them. They have nothing important to share with him. All he wants is for them to stop. It is something he cannot do.
He sighs and looks at the ceiling. When do they stop? When? He shakes his head and begins to run through a few plans in his. Plans for how to convince them. As well as how to deal with actual opposition. This is not of importance to him. He frowns. Why does he keep coming back to it? It is not important so why? Is it bothering him so much? Well, obviously. Thankfully, after almost an hour for him, which is only about thirty minutes, in reality, they finally stop. He opens his mouth when the door slams open behind him. He turns around. Lead fills his shoes when he sees who it is. Just who he needed.
"Lord Pedwegon! Here to gather more souls for your futile quest, I see?"
"Only in your mind."
"Well, then my lord, explain why you are here. You have not done so yet."
"I am here because I have a request to make."
"A stupid request."
"Still, I am listening."
"Have you heard about a possible return of the king?"
"You mean the northern lord? I have heard about him. And I have seen him. In my mind, he is our rightful king."
"Rightful, he may be but he is not right for our land."
"So what? You are the one to judge that?"
"The house of Húrin has long served us. We do not need a king. I propose we convince lord Denethor to reject the claim."
"What claim? No claim has been made yet."
"I know that but it will be. Just wait for it. And then we need to convince him."
"Who are we? And again why?"
"Every lord who is present. And as for why, why not?"
"For a good many reasons, I can think of."
"Such as?"
"Many things, the king is a good leader. Prince Imrahil will support him. The people like him. What more reason do you want to have?"
"The people? Their opinion is not important. And as for prince Imrahil, he only does it because he has something to gain from it."
"Do you want the prince to oppose you? You know how bad that will be."
"That is something I can handle."
"I hope that you are right. For your benefit."
"I hope so too. But back to your reasons, Lord Pedwegon. Why oppose a claim?"
"Because he is an outsider who does not know our ways. Because the stewards have ruled just fine. We do not need this change."
"So you mainly oppose it because it means we face a change?"
Pedwegon hears something in the voice. It almost sounds disapproving. Or sarcastic. Whatever it is, this lord clearly will not support him. His eyes turn to the others who are present. Maybe they are open to supporting them.
"Well, that is also not good enough for me."
"Why is it not?"
"Because a change can do a lot of good for Gondor. We have not had much prosperity in the past centuries. This could bring back the fame and glory of the days of old."
"Ah, I have not thought of that. Not that I would have sided with Lord Pedwegon."
"So what did you think about it?"
"I was thinking more about the skills Lord Aragorn has shown as a leader and healer. Those make him more than qualified to be our king."
"Lord Aragorn? You mean the northerner?"
"No, one of the Valar. Of course, I mean our rightful king! What did you think?"
Everyone nods and snickers. Pedwegon grinds his teeth. One or more give him nasty looks. He will not get any support here. It is clear to him.
"Well, seeing as no one of you are considering what the best course of action is for our land, I will be taking my leave. I hope you will like how everything turns out. I do not want to tell you I told you so."
"Opposing it is the best course of action for our land, you mean? Only in your mind. We know what we are doing. You will not have to tell us this. And good luck finding support anywhere as no one will aid you. I can promise you that."
More murmuring breaks out in the room but he ignores it. He turns around and storms out of the room. He does not even look where he walks. He just has to get out of here. Those ignorant, stupid lords. Do they not see the danger of this northerner making his claim? Especially if it is accepted? He shakes his head. They do not see it. Why else would they be so supportive of the northerner? And so dismissive of him.
He slams a door behind him and finally looks at where he has walked toward. Multiple eyes look at him with intrigue. And surprise. He sees he has gotten back to his allies.
"So, you have had the same amount of success as we did. By which I mean, none at all."
"Indeed, everyone I spoke to refuses to support us. They seemed to support the claim of the northerner. Some were even quite hostile towards me."
"Idiots. Do they not see the danger involved with it?"
"I doubt it."
"Aye, they are either ignorant or blatantly ignoring it."
"True, so what will we do now? We do not have the support we need to succeed."
"Well, what can we do? We either have to continue as we are now or give up."
"Give up? Never!"
"I agree, we cannot give up. We just cannot. We have already put too much effort into it."
"I know nobody is happy. We just have to accept it. Work with what we have. And hope the small chance of success we have is enough."
"But it will be futile and we will be ridiculed for years to come. Never mind the gossip mongers. They will have a field day with it."
"Ready to give up then?"
"No, just dreading the future before us. I am not so confident with that small chance you mentioned."
"I say everyone is dreading it. So what options do we have now?"
"Now as in without support from others?"
"Yes."
"I say we need a backup plan."
"Of course we do. So what will it be?"