Chapter Six: Shadows and Clarity
In the practice ring of the armoury, Aragorn felt his strength at last return to him. Swinging blades and delivering blows to opponents, he no longer felt weak and useless. His sparring partner had returned as well. Legolas had ridden in a few weeks earlier with news of the Northern Rebellion troops that were amassing. Aragorn felt little concern however. In a few days time the Anniversary Festival would take place and the people would be able to rejoice after a year free of war and the threat of utter domination from a foreign and evil force. He could save the Northern Rebellion for another time; they were not going anywhere, not when the entirety of the Gondor Army was sitting in the barracks of Minas Tirith. They would not dare.
He parried and blocked Legolas's swift Elfish swords and as time passed they were well matched once again and Aragorn had Legolas backing into a corner.
At the end of their session he lifted a dagger from his belt and threw it across the ring where it embedded itself in a wooden column. "My fingers at last have some countenance of strength in them," he remarked.
"You are not a young man, dear friend," Legolas replied, "Yet I do see a new man within you. You have suffered several brushes with death before and yet this very nearly killed you and your Beloved. How does the queen fair?"
Aragorn frowned, "She does not fair quite as well as me. I am everyday afraid for her. It seems as though she has lost much of the Elven power she once used to possess. Is this due to the loss of our child and three others, or is it simply because she chose a mortal life? I cannot say, but I do know that some light has gone out. Something must be done."
"Have you spoken with the White Witch about the matter?" Legolas asked, placing his swords back into their sheaths. He walked with Aragorn out of the armory towards his chamber. Legolas would return his weapons to the safety of his room. They were too precious to him to leave anywhere else.
"I have," Aragorn said, clearly frustrated, "and yet all she can provide are more tonics and salves for something we cannot see. However I do not think they are working as they should. It could very well be because Arwen is no longer Elf and somewhere between that race and humanity."
"Ninia is old and wise, Aragorn, I am sure she has thought of this and taken it into consideration with her herbs and medicines."
"I would imagine so," Aragorn conceded. "There must be an alternative."
Legolas could not help his mind wandering to where it did. "The festival is in a few days. Any word from the King of Rohan?"
Aragorn's head snapped to look at his friend, following his exact train of thought. "They are expected."
"If the Lady of the Mountain saved you from the black abyss Aragorn, perhaps there is a chance she can help Arwen."
"She is how Arwen fell into this state, Legolas," Aragorn growled, suddenly upset at the idea of something else going wrong because of this woman. "People would think me foolish for taking such a risk again. In any case, when Aranee left she was not half the woman she was when we arrived in the city. She lost something that night."
"Aye, and she left to Edoras to try and regain some of that strength, just as you have regained with time and practice. You cannot know all that has transpired. She may be a new woman, she may know of a remedy."
Aragorn nodded, as it was a possibility. Then he turned to his friend, knowing his thoughts on the woman in question. "What of your feelings for the lady?"
Legolas turned his head away, not wanting to look directly at the man, and wanting to avoid the question he asked. "It has been almost ten months since she left, and when she did there was no doubt as to her feelings of gratitude, but there was no more than that."
"I did not ask for you to recount her feelings, Legolas," Aragorn came to a halt in the throne room. "I asked for your feelings."
"I am indifferent," the elf replied quickly. "I am also quite certain that in the time she has spent on the Riddermark, she cannot have avoided Éomer and his attentions. She is a remarkable woman. I simply hope she has found some semblance of peace, wherever and with whomever she chooses."
"So gallant for an elf to say," the king replied. "There was always something different about her, I must admit. I would have welcomed her friendship had it been an option. She seems to be a most intriguing and like-minded woman."
Legolas's mind flashed to the hidden diary in Aranee's trunk. It had been something he'd read not to discover information, but find it he had. It was hard to envision Aragorn as a young boy growing up, yet he was certain that Aranee and her brother were no more than a few years apart. He could not tell that anymore than mortals could guess his age. If so, then Aranee had to be somewhere nearing the age of eighty. The elf blood in their veins was deceiving. Hopefully any man that took up with Aranee would be able to accept that.
"Yes," he agreed, "I firmly believe a friendship would have grown out of clear mutual respect and regard for the other, had things not turned out as they did."
"Many things would have come to pass had things not transpired as they did, my friend." The king took a hand and placed it on the opposite shoulder of his friend briefly, a sign of their decades of friendship, holding the knowledge that fate and destiny brought many things into a life that humanity could never have guessed. Aragorn was king because of choices he'd made as a younger man, an acquaintance he'd made with a certain wizard, and his decision to love an Elven princess far and beyond him.
He nodded his head and returned to his rooms where he found Arwen neatly propped against a pile of pillows. He bent to kiss her forehead and she smiled weakly. Something had to be done to alter what fate had brought his beautiful queen.
Legolas turned from the throne room to trace the steps to his quarters. There his thoughts drifted to Aranee, her endless grace and light, snuffed out much as Arwen's had. Perhaps if she had recovered then Arwen's life was not lost to the shades of the castle. Aranee, like her brother, would bring life back to this city.
Éowyn smiled down at her left hand. There on the third finger rested the jewel encrusted ring that Faramir had presented to her, unabashed and full of hope and love. She always got a feeling like butterflies in her stomach whenever she looked at it, or when she saw Faramir across the room looking at her. It was easy to know that he was in love with her. She had seen betrothed couples before though it had been years since Rohan had experienced such a jovial union. Nothing of what she could remember as a child from the marriages at Edoras could be compared to what she felt for Faramir.
Who then could she compare it to? This was the question she was pondering as she walked down the corridor from her bed chamber towards the main dining hall. It was early still, a few hours after seeing Faramir and hearing of Aranee's epiphany. She made her way to her brother's door then, wanting to know if the talk with Aranee had gone well. She would have asked Aranee, however she was not in her room.
She knocked on the king's door and stood back, waiting for him to bid her entrée. He was not a late sleeper and so she had no doubts he was simply preparing for the day. There was a shuffling noise behind the door and interest piqued, leaned forward to see what she could hear through the solid door, which was not a lot.
The door burst open then. "Oh," she gasped, seeing Éomer standing there as if he had only just risen. "It is past dawn Éomer, were you still abed?"
He blinked a few times before nodding, "Yes, I was asleep. I had a fitful night and thought another few hours would not hurt. What is it sister?"
She regrouped her thoughts, "I was wondering if you had talked to Aranee? Faramir mentioned she came to speak with you this morning."
"Indeed, she spoke with me," he replied bluntly.
"Do you know where she went to? I would like to talk to her."
"Did you check her chamber?" he asked, looking back and forth frantically.
"Aye, I did. I did so before coming to you. Is everything alright Éomer? You are acting rather odd. And why will you not let me pass? It is most unbecoming to speak in the hall in this manner."
He looked devious and in a flash Éowyn got an idea in her head that she could not shake. Yes Éomer was enamored with Aranee, that much was clear, however he was still a man, and a king. "Are you not by yourself?" Éowyn asked, both ashamed of her brother and furious at him. "Éomer! You have company, how could you?"
She was working up quite a fuss in the corridor. While it was mainly empty there were several household staff moving about their business. Then a voice came from within, female and familiar. "Let her come in Éomer, stop this nonsense."
Éomer closed his eyes in defeat before stepping back and letting Éowyn enter. There sitting on the opposite side of the bed, shrugging her arms into her robe, was Aranee.
"Aranee!" Éowyn exclaimed in shock. "What is the meaning of this?"
The door shut behind her. From the look on Éomer's face, half embarrassment and half annoyance, Aranee could tell he hadn't a clue how to handle this situation. Granted this was not something she had come across herself, but she was not ashamed of her behaviour. "Éowyn, calm down, there is nothing here to alarm yourself."
"Nothing to…" Éowyn was flustered but quickly recovered. "Do you mean to tell me that this is not what it seems? For this seems grossly inappropriate Aranee, do you know what this could mean for you? For my brother? Have you any idea—"
"Alright!" Aranee countered, interrupting her friend. "I am in no mood to be lectured to, Éowyn. While you are my friend and Éomer's sister, I do not have to take this from you. I understand the ramifications of my actions; I am old enough to realize these things."
"Old enough?" Éowyn stammered.
"Yes, old enough. I am more than twice your age!" Aranee burst out, her eyes shut and her fists clenched at her sides. Her eyes popped open then when she realized what she'd said.
"More than twice her age?" Éomer came to stand beside his sister, staring open-mouthed at the woman who had just shared his bed.
Éowyn's eyes widened as understanding dawned. Aranee had just unwittingly given away a major clue to her lineage. It was also understood that any hopes of hiding what she'd just said were dashed to pieces when Éomer spoke from behind her. "What do you mean, 'more than twice her age'?"
Aranee almost collapsed on the spot, falling to a puddle on the floor. Instead she had the common sense to back up and sit down on the bed. One problem was solved, Éowyn was no longer angry at her for sleeping with Éomer. Another problem was created and now she had to tell Éomer her secret as well. The list of people who did not know Aragorn was her brother was getting shorter.
"I am…slightly older than I appear."
"What does that mean?" Éomer questioned, his brows furrowing together.
"Why do you not sit, brother?" Éowyn attempted but failed to capture his attention. She almost wanted to shrug to Aranee and motion that she was on her own, but she would not abandon her friend, not when it was she who had pushed Aranee to blurt out this delicate information.
"It means," Aranee continued, "that while Faramir and myself grew up together, it would be more fitting to say that I raised him. I was younger, true, though not by human standards."
"I do not understand," Éomer's frown intensified.
"I am one of the Númenóreans, one of the last descendents. I am close to eighty. When Faramir was born I was just passing forty."
"That is impossible, there are none from Númenór left, save Aragorn—" It was there that his words faltered and when looking at her and thinking of Aragorn he happened upon the answer. "You…are the king's sister?"
She nodded, "I am."
"And I just…we just…I think I have to sit down." He stumbled over his words and found his way to a chair by the fireside. Éowyn stood awkwardly, not knowing who to comfort. Clearly Aranee was upset at having to tell her secret, while Éomer was startled at the news of said secret. She did not have to speculate long for soon Éomer's attention was brought on her. "Éowyn, you knew about this, didn't you?" He did not raise his hand but she could feel the implied finger pointing at her.
"I did. I have known for some time. I did not realize the exact meaning of her age until today however. It is so hard to tell when she looks as old as you or I."
"I suppose," Éomer conceded. "Will you leave for a moment Éowyn; I would like to talk privately with Aranee."
She bowed her head, tried to give Aranee an encouraging smile but failed, and exited the room.
Aranee made her way from the bed to stand beside Éomer. Her robe, which she'd been holding closed whilst Éowyn was present, had fallen open again. Her nightgown was not see-through, however Éomer had already seen what was beneath it and he clenched his fists knowing the secrets she had been keeping from him at the time.
"Éomer," she implored, "this does not have to change anything between us."
"I should have known something was amiss when you mentioned lying with other men. Why could you not tell me this before, Aranee?"
"There was never a need or a time to do so. I did not think it would matter. He does not know. Does this change how you feel about me?" She held her breath, hoping that recent events had not made her much more the fool. She had just given herself to this man and now there was a chance he could reject her. She would have to prove to him that this was not an issue between them. "Éomer, I am not one for begging, or obeying. I am an independent woman, you said so yourself. Knowing what you do now, you can realize I have been on my own for decades. I was twenty years alone when Faramir was finally born, as my mother passed in my twentieth year, and then another several decades before we could share the bond we have today. I have waited eighty years to share something, a piece of myself, as I have with you. Why can you not see that? These last few months and the months leading to my leaving Minas Tirith have been the hardest I have ever faced, including the months our lands were warring against evil." She knelt down beside his chair and he followed her face intently, hanging on her every word. "I have never shared, never wanted to share, anything as much as I want to share these things with you. Please believe I would have told you in time in my own way. I did not want you to find out like this."
"You are the king's sister—"
"I am not!" Aranee protested. "Until such a time as he learns of this fact, I am not of royal blood, therefore I do not need to be treated thusly. If I could make you forget the last few moments I would, but Éomer," she shifted to directly in front of him, taking his hand in hers, "I would not take back the last hours with you. They were the best of my life."
It was at those words that he cupped her cheek gently and bent to kiss her. He still needed time to process her words, but he knew for certain that her feelings for him were stronger than what she'd boasted before. This was more real than anything he'd ever known and he didn't intend to let things hinder their relationship.
She kissed him in return, moving gracefully from the floor before him to sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands splayed wide over her back, hugging her close.
The kiss ended and she remained tight in his embrace. "You have much to tell," he said quietly.
She nodded. She was a very private person, it was in her upbringing and she didn't share with many people. Faramir alone knew the extent of her life for they had spent much time together in his youth and as he grew to manhood she knew he was someone whom she could trust. But if she wanted this, really wanted this magic with Éomer, then she would have to open up and this was easier said than done. She leaned back to look at him. "I'm not good at that, Éomer, so I need your patience, but I will tell you."
His hand brushed her cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Your strength returns more each day, Aranee. I have faith you will be true to your word."
He was very good to her and Aranee couldn't see that changing. Much had transpired in just a few hours and yet her connection to this man was seemingly infinite. He did not push, he did not pressure, and he was understanding and compassionate. Éomer was a great man. While this was not something she went looking for, knowing her fragility and low self-confidence after what happened with Aragorn, but she would not deny this bond with a great man who had the potential to make her a great woman. As she looked deep into his eyes she shocked herself when she saw the spark of his soul sparking and crackling. She made a small gasping noise but did not break his gaze. Then it dawned on her. "Of course."
"What?" he asked and their link broke.
Her smile spread though she said nothing. She rose quickly and turned towards the window. She drew the curtains back and let the morning sun shine through. In the light she looked down at her hands, touching her palms and turning them over to see the strength that lay in their grasp.
Éomer was confused and he came to stand beside her and watch as she looked at her hands. "Are you quite well?" he asked.
Aranee didn't stop smiling. "Yes." She could feel the energy pulsing through her veins and in a moment of brilliant clarity she raised both hands, palms out and pressed them against Éomer's chest. She did not physically push, but mentally let the newly found energy flow from her centre into Éomer. He felt it, his eyes popping and his body jolting. Aranee shook her head, "I don't know what happened. But I know what I have to do now. I know because of you."
"What was that?" he took her hands and held them close.
"Raw energy. Stolen and hidden deep inside me."
"Stolen?"
Her eyes turned solemn and contemplative. "Aragorn and Aranee. Unwittingly I drained Aranee of her Elvish energy in order to save Aragorn. I must have taken more than I needed and instead of the channel flowing back into her, the link was broken when…" Her expression turned sad at the memory.
"When what?"
She met his gaze and told him, "When the baby was ripped from her womb. I didn't return the energy because I never knew how. I didn't think I had the capability to connect with someone like that, in that way. Not until now."
"How do you give her back the energy without draining yourself or pushing her through a wall at the same time?" Éomer took her hands. "You nearly pushed me away with that little jolt. I can only imagine what the full force of this raw energy could do. Something was ripped when you unknowingly took it from Arwen, what if something is ripped from you in giving it back?"
Aranee had to give him credit. He saw the dangers in doing this far faster than she had. This was dangerous. How was she to know when it was time to give up in transferring the energy? Would she be able to stop herself just short of the limit, keeping herself intact while giving Arwen her life force back?
She looked up into Éomer's eyes, a withered look of uncertainty on her face. "I cannot know anything for certain," she told him. "But I have to try."
He pulled her closer, placing her hands back on his chest, embracing her tightly but gently. He wanted her to know he was there. He would always be there, no matter the consequences, no matter the secrets, no matter the dangers that came their way. "You are precious to me, Aranee. While I am still alive, no harm will come to you."
"You cannot protect me from myself," she murmured against his chest, nuzzling her head under his chin.
"No," he agreed as he kissed the top of her head, "but I can ground you to this world as nothing ever has before. You may have been with others but I do believe you have never been with someone like me."
The crackling of energy at her fingertips was just the beginning of her journey, but with those words from her lover and her friend, Aranee felt that she may make it after all.