Chapter Five: Aranee's Task

Aranee didn't realize that she was screaming until someone was shaking her awake, jostling her shoulders violently and calling her name. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Faramir before her. Her breathing was rapid and her heart felt like it was going to fly out of her chest.

"'Nee, you were dreaming, it's alright." He pulled her up into his arms and she thankfully wrapped herself around him. She did not feel like crying for she didn't exactly recall the dream and yet instinctively she knew it was the same as it always had been. The brown-haired, violet-blue-eyed boy was still there, wandering around in the ethereal forest. She had begun to deduce in the last month or so that she was meant to help him somehow. But she still didn't know how to do that yet, or why. She would cry out in frustration in her dream and this would continue into her reality. This was not the first time she had woken screaming, but it was the first time Faramir had been there when she opened her eyes.

She clung to her friend, glad for the warmth of his body through the thin shift tunic he must've thrown over his head when he'd heard her. "I just can't figure it out, Faramir." She voiced her concerns for the boy to him on a previous night and between the two of them they could not come up with a solution. "He looks lost and angry and upset at the same time. I don't know what he wants. Every time I speak to him it's as if he does not know how to respond. Oh and his eyes, those eyes that haunt me are so familiar. I just don't know where I could have seen them before."

"You have seen many eyes in your life, 'Nee, you cannot be expected to remember every single pair."

"It's more than just my having seen them before. I know them! It's someone…" she searched through the short list of people she was close to and with a sharp intake of breath she realized. "Aragorn…"

"Are they his eyes?" Faramir asked, holding her still as she began to shake all over again.

"No," she looked up at him, "no they're not his. They're his son's."

"His son?!" Faramir gasped. "His son has not yet been born. Arwen has not been able to bear children since…"

A tear slid from Aranee's eye and she tipped her head back to try and hold them back. "I know. How many miscarriages?"

Faramir shook his head, "I will not let you torture yourself by telling you."

"How many, Faramir!" She in turn grabbed his shoulders, squeezing his upper arms in the effort to make him tell, though it was not needed. He would never keep something like this from her. "You will not keep this from me while I have to power to fix it if I can. How many?"

"Two."

She blinked in despair. "That boy in my dreams…he is Aragorn's son. The only way this is going to be resolved is if I help him come to reality."

She pushed away from him and shoving the sheets back, got up abruptly. She paced the room a few times, Faramir watching her and shaking his head. He woke upon hearing her harsh moans but had sprung from his bed when she began screaming. Now watching her pace and bite her bottom lip she looked both adorable and slightly crazy.

"Can you do anything about it right now?" Faramir asked.

"No, I don't think so," she admitted.

"Why are you pacing then? You cannot worry about it right now."

She paused and looked at him. "I suppose. I need to find out what to do though. I need to think about this."

Faramir stood, took her shoulders in his hands and pulled her close. "I know. And you will. But this is a lot to absorb."

"Faramir," she nuzzled into his shoulder, "he's trapped. That little boy, my brother's son, is trapped and I need to find out how to save him."

"You know so little about this. I think you need to talk to someone who knows more about this world than you do."

"The only person who would know more about this is…Ninia."

"We leave for the festival in Minas Tirith in a few weeks. That is where the White Witch is…will you come with us?"

She had been asked a number of times. First by Éomer and then by Éowyn, and each time she had told them she'd think about it.

When Éomer had asked it was out on the hills. They'd walked out hand-in-hand in a perfectly peaceable silence. It was a few weeks after Aranee had decided to get involved with the King of Rohan. It was amazing how comfortable she felt with him. It was almost as comfortable as being around Faramir only there was another level of intimacy with Éomer that she enjoyed immensely. They laughed and teased and when they paused at the top of a knoll, they embraced. Yet when he brought up the Anniversary Festival she froze. Being in the capital which had always been her home was a startling thought now. She was used to being so calm and having no itinerary here. Minas Tirith would bring back so many responsibilities and obligations and people who she cared about and couldn't bear to let down a second time. It made her feel tense again.

She told him she would think about it. He didn't pressure her, which was sweet, but she could tell he expected a lot more from her.

Knowing these people who had become so close to her, and Faramir, would be leaving for the festival however, leaving her here alone, made the decision a little easier. Knowing Ninia was in Gondor miles away from here and that she was the only woman who could help her, the answer came to her. She would have to go. She couldn't stay buried in Edoras forever and her life truly was in Minas Tirith. Or at least it had been before Éomer. She frowned as she felt the horrible pressure again, knowing that being with Éomer meant taking his actions, thoughts and feelings into account before she made any decision. That was the choice one made when they enter into a relationship with someone such as Éomer.

"Éomer is going," she pulled away from Faramir again. His comforting arms had become restrictive. "Faramir, how could I have let this happen?"

"Éomer is a good man, 'Nee, you shouldn't worry about choosing wrong when it comes to him. He is a king."

"Being a king does not mean anything to me, Faramir!" her voice raised an octave when she spoke. "He is a man, and he is wonderful, but being with him means doing things by his standards because he is a king. I am not free to be myself when I am with him. Not anywhere but here at least. Sometimes not even here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't you see it? I have this task before me, things I need to fix. But if Éomer expects me to be with him, act a certain way because he is a king, I cannot comply. I never was good at obeying people; you know that better than most. I would live the remainder of my days here if I knew that I was free to be my own person with Éomer. But I can't."

He looked at her with sad eyes. "How do you know that? Aranee, people will always be looking to you for answers; they will always expect something of you, no matter where you go or who you are with. You cannot escape that."

"Oh but how I wish I could." Her arms flailed around her, sending the swirls of nightgown fabric up and down. She was so animated and somewhere Faramir found hope that his old Aranee was coming back to life. She was passionate about something at last. No more inactivity and mild indifference. This was something she desperately needed to do. "I need to talk to Éomer."

She started to make her way to the door. "'Nee!" Faramir cried out and sprung to stop her. "You're in your nightgown. Isn't that somewhat inappropriate to wander the halls so scantily clad?"

She gave him a look of frustration rather than relief that he'd reminded her of the fact. She didn't care however, for she retraced her steps to find her robe. She slipped into it deftly and then flew from the room again. He would have followed except he too was only wearing thin undergarments. Instead he made his way back to his room.

He was almost there when Éowyn's door swung open. Seeing her bed head, hair ruffled and eyes slightly squinted from just waking his heart skipped a beat. It was a sight unlike he had ever seen and something he longed to see again and again.

"Faramir?" she said sleepily. She registered her attire then after giving him the once over. She hid half behind her door and it made her blush. "I heard someone yelling. Was it Aranee? Her nightmares?"

He nodded his head, "Aye, I comforted her however. She had this revelation as well. She's run off to confront Éomer about it presently."

"It is not yet sun-up. Does she require his attention at once?"

He stepped to her door, dropping his face to hers. "She is single-minded unlike I have seen in a long time. Passionate and wild, she couldn't be stopped, so I let her flee. You can ask her yourself when it is a more suitable hour. Go back to sleep, my love." He brushed his lips to hers and then to her forehead.

She shook her head in agreement. "Of course. Are you returning to sleep as well?"

"I doubt I'll be able to. I am awake now, and my mind is running wild with thoughts." His smirk told her that it was not just about Aranee, but also of her. "Sleep well, Éowyn."

She shut the door behind her and when he returned to his room all was silent once more.

Aranee knocked once, twice, three times on Éomer's door before slipping inside. They were quiet knocks as to not wake the entire household, though loud enough to rouse the king from his slumber. It was not a kind awakening however, for in his right hand was a long dagger, the blade glinting off what little dawn light peaked through the curtains at the window. "It's me," Aranee called out, not afraid of the dagger.

"Aranee? Is something wrong?" He knew at this early hour something had to be wrong for her to come to his chamber. It was not something she had done before.

"I…I need to speak with you."

"Was it the nightmare?" he shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and lit a candle on the bedside table, depositing the dagger there as well. The bed sheets had fallen to his waist to reveal a bare chest that made Aranee pause a moment. She had seen many a male bare chest in her time as Healer, though most were bloody and torn open. His was neither bloody, nor torn open, and made feelings long since forgotten stir once more inside her. Éomer was a very attractive man. She took a deep breath as she came towards him.

"No. I mean yes, it was the nightmare, but that's not what I have come to discuss."

"Did you wake screaming again?" She had come to stand at the edge of his bed. He reached out with one hand to clasp hers and draw her to him.

"I did. Faramir shook me awake."

Faramir, thought the king. He was so close to Aranee that sometimes the jealousy was unbearable. Yet at the moment he felt thanks towards the Captain, for waking Aranee from something as terrible as the nightmare that she had described to him again and again. Something had to be done about it.

"What is it then, if not the dream?" he asked.

"The festival…when we return to Minas Tirith—"

"We?" he interrupted. "So you've decided then."

"Please don't say anything yet," she said, and at that Éomer could see how difficult this was for her. "When we return, what is my role…with you?"

He was taken aback. "I had not thought about it. I did not think you would want this to be public knowledge as of yet. I know you are a private person, Aranee, and I respect that privacy. I want you to do what feels comfortable to you."

She released the breath she had been holding since asking the question. He understood. She threw her arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

He patted her hair and held her equally close. "You are an independent woman, Aranee. Your strength is returning to you and I would never dream of forcing your hand at anything. When we are in Minas Tirith you will be the Lady of the Mountain again. I will be the King of Rohan. We need not even see each other privately if that is your wish." His voice saddened at the words and Aranee knew how disheartening it was for him to say them. "My only desire is for you to be happy."

"I am happy, Éomer. I am endlessly happy with you." She looked into his eyes in the candlelight then and couldn't help but smile. "I know what I must do now."

"Do?" he frowned.

"The nightmares, they are a clue to my path. I know what my task is now. I cannot be all that you require of a queen," she said, lowering her gaze, embarrassed to say it. It was not a subject either of them had broached before. "Not yet."

"You need not be queen, Aranee," he comforted, smiling and lifting her chin so she would look at him. "I am not in need of someone who would take that role. I seek companionship and trust and understanding. I merely request all that we have now stays the same."

"It...I do not think it can be the same Éomer. Every day I feel stronger, not only for myself but also for you. I'm falling for you Éomer and I want your help with this task."

"I will do whatever you require of me. I am your humble servant," he bowed at the waist very low, almost placing his head in her lap. She entwined her fingers in his hair, feeling the silky smoothness.

"You could never be a servant, My Lord," she said when he rose again. "Not when I desire an equal."

Their lips met in a rush and then bodies pressed tightly to one another. They tumbled to the far side of the bed together, Aranee under Éomer's muscled figure, the sheet creating a barrier between them. The sleeve of her robe and nightgown had fallen, bearing her naked shoulder. It was intimate and sensual and unlike anything Éomer had ever seen. This woman was so attractive to him.

"Are you going to make me stop?" he asked, his voice quivering a bit as he stroked the lines of her skin from her neck to shoulder, not resisting the temptation there.

"Am I right to say you have lain with other women before?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"I have," he said quietly. "It has never meant so much to me before however, to know that this is everything you want. I will stop if you ask me."

"Éomer, I am no maid," she said, confident in her tone. "I have lain with men, some for love and some for pleasure. But, it has been a long time and I have never felt closer to another man than I do with you. As long as you will not renege on your previous statements by continuing on this course, I will not ask you to stop. I want this to happen as much as you."

His lips fell on hers again without a moment's hesitation. He was intrigued and captivated and she didn't think she had ever felt such understanding with another human being. Soon the sheet and clothes were both removed and nothing was a barrier any longer. Aranee dropped her final defense and trusted Éomer entirely. It continued well into the early hours of the morning and when finally they had exhausted each other with lust and pleasure they lay together, bodies pressed against one another again, sheets covering to their waists. Aranee nuzzled into Éomer's shoulder as he held her close.

She was tired and satisfied. "Éomer?"

"Hmm?"

"When we travel to Minas Tirith, I will reside in the castle. I will not retire to my room above the city. I want to be near you."

"I would like that," was all he could say, taking the moment to enjoy the feel of her body against his and inhale the sweet fragrance of her tussled hair.

"And when it is time to return, when my task is complete, I will take all my belongings and bring them to Edoras," she continued, her fingers stroking over his dark chest hairs.

"You mean to live here permanently?" he asked, taken of guard, but happily surprised.

"Not as a guest of the king, mind, I would live by my own means. But yes, this life suits me and I can provide services to your people as easily as those of Minas Tirith. My trade is transferable to any location."

Hearing her speak of her work once again lifted a weight from Éomer's chest and the joy spilled from his heart. At last a purpose had been rediscovered, and Aranee was finally healing. "This task you speak of? Will it require much effort on your part?"

"Oh aye," she replied, though he could hear the smile in her voice, "but there are those in Minas Tirith who can help, and I will not fail this time." She yawned and wiggled, sleep overtaking her. "I will not fail him this time."

"Him?" he asked, confused, however she did not reply. She had fallen fast asleep and with her warm body against his, he had little time to wonder, for he too fell asleep in mere moments. Contentment slid over the sleeping couple as they slept the pre-dawn hours away, together.