Chapter Seven: Past, Present, Future
Sitting atop her horse on the crest just before the vast Fields of Pelennor gave Éowyn terrible flashbacks of the previous year listening to her uncle shout words of honor and valor to the thousands of men gathered to take back Middle Earth from the darkness. She'd sat clutching Merry to her, telling him to be brave, telling herself the same as she faced the hoards of Orcs and Uruk-hai soldiers. She felt a strange tremor course through her at the memory of battle and slaying of the Witch King of Angmar. She flexed her right hand, bringing it to her middle with her left. The wounds had healed but the phantom sensation still haunted her from time to time. She rubbed her hands together and then thought of another sensation; that of the ring on the ring finger of her left hand hidden beneath her riding gloves. She smiled and glanced to her right where the rest of her party also sat on their horses.
Behind them trailed horses and wagons carrying belongings and goods to be sold and dispersed during the festivities. Faramir controlled his restless horse. The horse knew he was nearly home. Éowyn smiled at him, taking the reins of her own horse and pressed her heels into his flanks. She shot off towards the White City hearing Faramir's cry of surprise behind her. Soon the beating of hooves sounded all around her as her brother, Aranee, Faramir and their armed guard chased after her.
The feeling of riding she imagined was akin to flying, and in this moment, knowing a future with Faramir would likely play out in the streets and halls of Minas Tirith, there was no greater feeling than that of flying home.
The gates were open and she slowed considerably but continued up the tiers of the city, followed closely by the others. She reached the top first, and out of breath and exhilarated she dismounted and collapsed in laughter on the green lawns surrounding the Citadel. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, allowing her senses to adjust.
She heard the crunch of horse hooves and then boots on gravel and finally a shadow blocked the bright sun from overtop of her. She opened her eyes to see Faramir smiling down at her. He held out his hand to help her rise, which she took immediately. He drew her to him and planted a quick and passionate kiss on her lips before whispering, "Mmm, home." She couldn't quite tell if he meant being back at Minas Tirith or in her arms. She didn't spend too much time pondering it though. It simply did not matter.
Looking to the Citadel Éowyn continued smiling as she saw the three men striding towards them. Or rather an elf, a dwarf, and a King striding towards them, for neither was merely a man.
While at that moment Éowyn would have liked nothing more than to stay with Faramir, her eyes immediately started searching for Aranee. She found her, but not where she should have been. Instead of with Éomer, Aranee had slipped away to the peak that overlooked the city. Her eyes connected with Faramir, briefly nodding her head in that direction and then she detached from his side to go to Aranee.
Faramir understood immediately and while he too would have gone to his friend, his duty remained in first greeting his king and seeing to the horses and their possessions.
Éowyn walked up behind Aranee slowly, not wanting to startle the woman. "Is it odd to be home?" she asked.
Aranee turned her head, her profile then visible to Éowyn. Her face was not grief-stricken as Éowyn had anticipated, but instead full of happiness and joy. She brushed her hands over the white marble stone. "It's been a long time. I've been to many corners of this earth Éowyn, over my many decades, but I'd never before left without knowing when I would return home. I told you that my stay at Edoras would not be a long visit but the simple truth was I really didn't feel I'd be well enough to return to this place for quite some time. This is sooner, more welcome and sweeter then I imagined."
"You are glad to be back." It wasn't a question.
She turned fully towards Éowyn. "I am. Glad to be back and glad to have a purpose once more." She had gone to Éowyn soon after her realization with Éomer. She knew she owed an apology for her actions with Éomer, even if he was King and needed no explanation for his actions. Aranee wanted to give her friend that simple courtesy and rebuild whatever trust had been lost. After the apology had been accepted Aranee proceeded to explain what she'd discovered and what she needed to do next. Éowyn had been supportive and had also seen the plain dangers as Éomer had. "It's going to be alright," Aranee had told her.
They walked back towards the Citadel together. The others were waiting for them, watching them as they approached. Aragorn inclined his head towards the two of them. "My ladies, welcome back to the Capital. I trust your journey was smooth." The ladies knew that his greeting was merely a nicety and the knowledge had already been given by the men. This was just public kingly manner that had to be upheld.
"It was," agreed Éowyn. She gave Aranee a twinkling look before moving to take Faramir's arm.
"How was your visit in Rohan, Milady?" Aragorn asked Aranee.
"It was peaceful, my lord. Exactly what the Healer ordered." She had a small urge to call him 'brother', but she restrained herself.
She looked at both Gimli to Aragorn's right and Legolas to his left. Her gaze lingered more on the elf. He was tall and lean and his piercing blue eyes were just as she remembered. She smiled warmly in his direction, knowing that there still lay unresolved feelings for both parties. She had hoped that her connection with Éomer would disintegrate those on her part, and yet she still felt some pull towards Legolas. She was tied to Éomer however, and so when he appeared beside her she immediately took his offered arm. She noticed Legolas's narrowed gaze at this but promptly ignored it. She looked at Éomer who smiled and placed his free hand over hers on his arm.
"You are weary," Aragorn commented. "You must rest until the meal time. I will have refreshments brought to you and your trunks delivered as soon as they arrive."
"Many thanks," Éomer started towards the Keep. "We appreciate the hospitality."
"And we appreciate the company, Éomer," Aragorn said, keeping his pace with the Horse King. "It has been some time since we dined together, since peace was the topic of conversation among friends. It will be most welcome. As are you."
"I won't be long," Aranee told Éomer, kissing him on the forehead. She had gone back to his chambers with him, shrugged out of her riding clothes and into a gown of forest green behind a screen in the corner of the room. She then decided she needed to venture up the mountain. Her home was calling to her. Éomer kissed the back of her hand in response but said nothing. His silent understanding was a blessing. Aranee considered herself very lucky.
She traced the halls to Faramir's room in a peaceable silence, sliding her hand across the marble walls, delighting in the feeling of being back in the White City. She arrived at Faramir's chamber, knocked and waited. She did not know if Éowyn had accompanied him back to his room as she had Éomer's. The door opened to reveal only Faramir, alone and stripped to casual clothing.
"Since when did you knock?" he asked as she passed.
"Since you became betrothed," she retorted with a wink. "Soon this room will be abandoned and you will both have a shared suite in the Keep. My best friend will have grown up and our childhood will really be over."
"Did you really consider yourself that much a child when I was born?" he asked, sitting down in a chair by his desk. They rarely discussed the age gap that separated them because it often led to a twinge of sadness for Aranee. She had been alone a long time before Faramir was born and she did not like remembering those years. Her mother had died and left her quite without anyone to guide her in the world. She stumbled as she traveled, an experience that would have gone smoother had she someone close to her to journey with. She did see some beautiful things and some terrible things too. But nothing was more majestic than the day she'd returned back to the White City and been told her old friend had given birth to a second son. Aranee had been blessed with an audience and took on the unofficial role of guardian, for she knew Finduilas, a dear friend to Aranee and her mother, would not live to see him into manhood.
"A babe," she replied honestly, "a babe who had yet to see the wonders of the world." She stood before him and cupped his bearded cheek. "I knew very little of this world until you came into it, Faramir. And I never really took pleasure in what the world had to offer until you showed me all there was worth seeing."
"Four decades and very little until the day I was born? I find that hard to believe."
"Believe it or not, it's the truth. You may be my best friend, dear one, but not very long ago I considered you my child. I am ever so glad to see the man you are, and the woman you have found to replace me."
At those words he rose and took her up in an embrace. "You can never be replaced, 'Nee. Not if I live to be a three hundred years old. You will always have a special place in my heart."
She hugged him in return. Faramir who yearned for knowledge, who was compassionate and loyal, trustworthy and duty-bound no matter the open favour his older brother received from their father. He became a great man, and Aranee hoped that it was in no small part due to her own friendship with him. Having a woman in a young boy's life makes all the difference.
"I came to climb the mountain," she told him then, ending their moment. They were precious and thankfully with Faramir, not rare, and so there was no need to drag it out. She knew she was loved by him if by no one else. "My things…"
"I understand. You took little with you on your stay in Rohan. Go, I'll still be here when you return."
She smiled and turned to the secret door that led to her mountain. She began the ascent and relished in the familiar feel of stone beneath her feet. As much as she enjoyed and marveled at the woodwork craftsmanship of the people of Rohan, it could not quite compare to the rock caverns of her home.
Her thoughts turned to Éomer then, a man who was King in his own right, her lover and a dear friend. There was a future with him, she could feel it. But being with him would mean being away from Minas Tirith. She would have to make Edoras her new home if she meant to stay with him. She was connected to him, that fact was unshakeable to her now. But this had been her home for a very long time. She knew she'd told Éomer that life in Edoras would suit her, but that was before she realized how much she'd needed the solitude of the tunnels and the quiet of the rocks of the mountain. She would no longer be the Lady of the Mountain. How was she to give that up?
The meal was served and while Arwen was in attendance, Aranee could instinctively feel a change in her very aura. She looked down at her hands hidden in her lap at the moment. At the same time she could sense Arwen's discomfort, Aranee's hands crackled and sparked with tainted energy, stolen energy. This was not the energy to give the body strength, if so Aranee would have used it long ago to give herself strength. No, this was energy for the soul, a power source that gave purpose and brought the body to a spiritual state of wellness. Aranee felt guilty at unknowingly stealing such raw power from someone who was so dear to her own flesh and blood. Aragorn sat beside his Elven queen, partaking in the merriment of the feast but Aranee saw his thoughts were never far from the woman beside him. With a light touch of the hand on hers or a quick reassuring glance with a small smile, Aranee saw his concern as plainly as she saw and felt the energy residing within her.
Her journey up the mountain had revealed many things to her, including an answer to the task she needed to undertake. The trip up and back was a good length and plenty of time to contemplate all the things that had been burdening her. Perhaps that was why in Edoras it had taken longer to heal, constantly surrounded with voices not her own. While it had given her many gifts, it had taken away the solitude she was familiar with.
Beside her now sat the very man responsible for those gifts. Éomer was jovial and laughing, delighting in the food and company. Aranee was obliged to engage in some conversation as well, though she could feel people tip-toeing around her, knowing how delicate she had been when she departed for Edoras. She felt no such delicacy now, but they did not know this, nor was she willing to share it. She sat back and watched, taking in the energy of the room, preparing herself for what was to come.
When the night was drawing to a close she felt tired but wonderful. She rose before the others, whispering to Éomer, who smiled and nodded, and then bidding good eve to Aragorn and those who remained. She walked slowly, wearily, to the room she was to share with Éomer. It was strange but she quite liked knowing she would not sleep alone. It was the one place where solitude was not welcome or required.
Footsteps behind her alerted her to the fact she had been followed. They were light and surefooted steps. Legolas.
"Master Elf," she said, coming to a pause in the corridor, turning to face him.
"My Lady of the Mountain," he inclined his head.
The formality was stifling. "Have you been well, Legolas?" she asked. "You look well, but then even ailing from injury you never looked any different."
He smiled. "I have been well, thank you for asking. You seem much yourself again."
She nodded. They continued to walk, taking the path towards her room. "I would not miss this festival, though I was not completely sure of my attending until a few weeks ago."
"Your mind was changed?" He did not pry or question what exactly changed her mind.
"It was, happily." Her thoughts turned to the last days she'd spent in Minas Tirith and how much she'd relied on Legolas's strength. Her mood turned somber. "I am forever grateful to you Legolas, for your continued belief in me. For all your help when I could not get by on my own."
"Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on and a helping hand to assist them from time to time." His response was so generic and stoic she almost believed his feelings had dissipated over the last several months. But the undertones of the conversation told her something else.
They arrived at the door to her shared chambers and as a woman of several decades she felt no shame in announcing that they'd arrived. As an elf of equal to greater age he had the propensity to act as if he did not notice this was her usual quarters or those of the King of Rohan. He said nothing and his face gave away nothing.
"Good night, Legolas," she said as she opened the door.
"Sleep well…Aranee," he bowed and turned up the hall.
She watched him go, knowing he would feel her gaze. He turned the corner and disappeared. She was shutting the door when Éomer emerged from the same corner, glancing at the Elf as he passed.
Something about the way Legolas acted around Aranee irked Éomer in a much different way than Faramir's presence always had. The way Aranee acted was just as irksome. His thoughts drifted to the first night he'd spent with her, her saying she'd lain with other men. He knew secrets were a woman's prerogative, but he would not have that secret staying hidden. He wanted to know her previous encounters and if it would still burden her feelings, hindering her from being totally his.
He entered the room and found her sitting on balcony railing, tipping over precariously, looking and seeing all that she could. His heart softened as he closed the door and went to her.
"It is a lot closer to the ground here than what I am accustomed to," her voice drifted back as he stepped closer. Her head swiveled and he could see a light in her eyes that spoke volumes to how much she had healed in only the past few weeks at his side. He moved behind her, allowing her back to rest on his chest as he brushed his hands up and down her arms gently. "I never really noticed how high and removed I was before. I had never lived anywhere else."
"Nowhere?" Éomer was more curious about her past now that he knew how much of it there was. "You must have traveled, Aranee."
"I did, you're right. I lived in the city until I was almost thirty though, first with my mother and then mourning my loss when she died. At Ninia's urgings I went with a group of Healers who were making a pilgrimage to the Grey Havens with the understanding that the elves were beginning to leave Middle Earth for Valinor. My mother had long been a friend of the elves, living in Rivendell when my brother was very young. Ninia knew this and knew being so close to the elves in the Grey Havens would either help or hinder my healing. As it turned out, it helped greatly."
"How much younger than your brother are you?" Éomer asked, trying to do the sums in his head but not coming to a logical conclusion.
"A little over a year," Aranee replied, thinking of the times she spent away from her mother. "Aragorn was taken to Elrond of Rivendell shortly after my father's passing, a year after I was born. He was given the name Estel and fostered under the close protection of Elrond. My mother has several journals and diaries that held Elrond's accounts of Aragorn's childhood. I know my mother went to Rivendell many times while Aragorn was still a child. I was left to my own devices, looked after by nursemaids, though when I was grown I went with my mother. I was never introduced to Aragorn though; she would always go separately from me. While I have been to Rivendell many times, while with my mother it was often when Aragorn was not there. I suppose she planned it that way. And for a brief time I lived in Eriador with her, those last years of her life. She spoke of Aragorn often."
"You have never spoken so well of him," Éomer observed.
"I have never been more compelled to call him my brother than I am here and now. I can only hope that when I tell of what I did to his wife, he will forgive my actions because I did what I did unknowingly."
"Blood forgives blood," Éomer commented, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
"Not always," she replied, her thoughts turning to Denethor and his persistent cold manner towards Faramir after Boromir died. Faramir so resembled his mother and was likely the very reason her strength waned after he was born. Denethor was much older than his wife and while he was reserved and quiet, it was evident he loved her very much. Knowing his son was the reason she lost such strength, Aranee doubted he forgave Faramir even at his demise.
Aranee sighed, not wanting to continue thinking of such morose things. Death and dying were the opposites of positive energies she needed to focus on. She and Éomer remained silent for some minutes, enjoying the views of the Fields and the lack of fiery lava that once emitted from beyond the Mountains of Shadow in the lands of Mordor. It was calm and peaceful and pleasant to simply sit in each other's arms with no immediate pending threats on their lives.
"Aranee?" Éomer's tone was slightly guarded and caught her attention instantly.
"What is it?"
"I have to ask. The elf, Legolas…did you…?" his sentence faltered. He didn't want to continue and accuse her of something of which he was not certain.
Aranee understood right away and turned in his arms to reply. "No Éomer, I have never been attached to Legolas as I have with you. It's true we did have encounters, but this was before." Éomer withdrew, his fists clenching and brow furrowed in frustration. He'd been afraid of this. "There have been times when I needed to rely on someone else's unshakeable strength. Most of the time it was Faramir, though when I saw him falling for your sister I could no longer impose that. We are friends but I will not jeopardize his relationships by asking him for something he is not willing to give. Legolas stood by me, holding my hand, wrapping me in his arms and reassuring me everything would be fine when I would much rather have hidden away in my mountain."
"Does he know about Aragorn?" he asked.
She shook her head, "Not to my knowledge. If he does, he did not hear it from me. The only people who know by my tongue are you and Éowyn."
He nodded, satisfied with her answer. "And tonight, did he talk to you?"
"He did, and I thanked him for his belief in me, no more and no less. He knows this is not my usual room; he knows I am with you. He could see it earlier in front of the Citadel when I took your arm. He has feelings but I do not reciprocate."
"Do I have your word?"
Aranee frowned. Jealousy did not become Éomer. "No," she said. "I have your trust on this matter. That is all that you require." The conversation was closed. She was right, she gave Éomer full disclosure on the subject but in no way was she giving her word to something that was pointless. She had bigger things to worry about. She loved Éomer but she did not answer to him no matter their connection with one another. He was not her King.
She stood and walked back into the room. Untying the strings of her gown she let it slip to the floor, knowing full well Éomer was watching her every move. "Come to bed now." She wanted to leave him with no doubt of her feelings towards him and words obviously were not enough tonight. Éomer followed.