Chapter Seven
Fo.A 2, April 17th
Ninel had known what would happen to her brother the moment he'd been taken in the gardens, but it did not lessen the blow when Faramir returned and announced her brother's death.
It had been over a week ago, and she had been locked up tight in her room since then, only coming out to eat and bathe, but little else.
She was overcome by a mixture of anger, hate, sorrow, and pain that beat her relentlessly. Some of it was directed towards the king because he was the one who had pronounced her brother's doom; even then, though, she knew that it had not been the king who had kidnapped her. It had not been his doing to let those filthy men touch her.
No, that had been Dalion and the members of the Black Tree. Damn them all! They were the reason Tachion was dead, and she would make them pay.
Ninel stood before the mirror in her room, gazing into her own eyes, haunted by the past. Her long brown hair hung loosely, falling over her shoulders and cascading down her back; he vibrant brown eyes, hallow and sad, stared back at her.
Innocence had been ripped from her.
The young girl's eyes became hard as mithril, her lips pressed into a thin, pale line; She would make sure the Black Tree never rose again.
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Tachion shifted his pack on his shoulders as he stood on the borders of Gondor and Rohan, his dark eyes scanning the horizon. He could barely make out where he knew Minas Tirith to be; where his former home was.
Turning his gaze away from the lands of his birth, he looked out on the rolling plains of Rohan, the tall grasses swaying in the gentle breeze. Tachion sniffed. He'd try and make it through Rohan quickly; explaining himself was not something he wanted to do if he could help it.
Tachion took one last longing look back. "Goodbye, Ninel," he whispered, "may your paths always be blessed."
With that, he turned his back. He would never see his homeland again.
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Fo.A 2, June 18th
Aragorn wasn't sure when the anxiety had started, just that it had taken over his thinking. He blamed it on the planning for the celebration in three days. Deep down, though, he knew the answer probably lay in the news that the healer had brought: Arwen might never be able to have children again.
The healer, Daron, emphasized that there was yet a chance that they could; she was an elf, and her body still healed in ways that mortals could not.
Aragorn stared blankly down at the plans for the Mid-Year celebration, shuffling through the papers without reading them.
A sudden surge of anger rose within him, and he brushed his desk clear with his arm, sending everything falling to the floor with a clash. He threw his glass and watched it shatter against the wall, then braced himself on his desk.
Why did it have to be his child? Had it been his fault? Did he do something to cause it?
The door to his study opened, and Aragorn looked up to see Faramir standing in the doorway, taking in present state of the office. Faramir met Aragorn's gaze. "Hard day?" he asked, forcing a smile.
"You could say that," Aragorn replied with some annoyance.
Faramir's smile dropped, his face more serious.
"Eowyn cannot have children," said Faramir, his voice distant.
Aragorn's head shot up. "What?!"
Faramir walked over, brushed aside some of the objects from Aragorn's desk, and sat down in a chair opposite him. He looked at Aragorn, eyes filled with sadness. "Eowyn cannot bere children," Faramir repeated, "apparently the fight with the Witch-King did more damage than we had previously thought."
"When did you find this out?" Aragorn asked, still stunned.
"Eowyn told me this morning," Faramir replied, his face emotionless.
Aragorn stared at him in silence, unsure of what to say. Both of them had experienced such similar things over the last few months, which had not escaped his notice, but he'd been wrestling with his own emotions that he'd forgotten the pain of others around him.
"How do we trust our wives again after they have kept such painful secrets from us?" Faramir pondered aloud.
His word shook Aragorn from his own thoughts. "I don't know," he said quietly, "but I don't believe it was out of ill intent that they did so." He paused as if something had just occurred to him. "Perhaps they didn't know how to handle the pain themselves, so they chose to not put it on those they cared about."
Faramir regarded his king, then nodded slowly, looking away. "You suggest I speak with my wife and find out, rather than sitting here in self-pity."
Aragorn gave half a smile. "I think we both need too."
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Faramir sat before Eowyn in the comfort of their home, holding her hands in his.
It was a modest house, not lavish or gaudy as some in Minas Tirith preferred to live. Then, Eowyn had not required nor wanted anything like that, and she took great care in making sure that it reflected who they were as nobles, and as people.
As Faramir looked around the room, he became more grateful for her in spite of his earlier feelings of mistrust.
They had talked for hours now, and Faramir's heart-felt at ease once more. Both of them had gone rounds at first, both frustrated and hurting; but they had connected at last.
"Are you alright?" asked Eowyn.
Faramir smiled. "I'm alright," he said warmly.
Eowyn returned his smile, her blue eyes shining. "Good, because I have been thinking about something for a while now, and I wanted to share it with you."
Faramir cocked a brow. "Oh?"
Eowyn took a breath, then started. "I know the news I shared with you this morning was new to you, but I have known it since the battle of Pellenor. I know now that I should not have kept it from you." She glanced up, meeting it misty grey eyes. "But I have come up with a solution to this problem."
Faramir's brow furrowed, and he made to speak, but she held up a finger, silencing him. "It wounds my pride, but-"
"Eowyn-" said Faramir, trying to interject, not liking where this was going.
"I think we should adopt Ninel," Eowyn continued. "She could be our daughter."
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Aragorn laid on his back in bed, Arwen's warm body nestled up against him. They had retired early that evening to be alone and to talk about everything they had been through in recent months before emotions and passions had swept them away.
Aragorn hadn't known that Arwen was still grieving their loss, or that she felt guilty about it. It broke his heart that he'd unwittingly left her to bere that alone.
Arwen stirred slightly, then settled back to sleep. He put his arm around her, holding her close; the thought of her on the floor covered in blood invading his mind.
He inadvertently shivered, and Arwen felt or sensed her Estel's distress. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "What is it, my love?" she whispered.
"Dark, unwanted thoughts," he whispered back, his face etched with worry.
Arwen sat up, covering herself with the silken sheets, lovingly running her fingers through his dark hair, then kissing him; it was slow and tender at first, later it became more passionate.
Worries dissolved, fears fled, and for the first time in months, there in the darkness of their chambers, they again felt whole and happy.
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Eowyn certainly has some surprises up her sleeves, sheesh. I wonder how Faramir is going to react to that!
And Tachion :( He never get's to see his homeland again.
Now, for those of you who remember, we're coming up on the Mid-Year celebration (I mistakenly called it midsummers eve earlier in the book, but the that wasn't right.) and you know what is coming. A certain mysterious letter and another certain someone returning to his home *dramatic music cues*
Hold on to your hats!
How have you been enjoying the story? I'd love feedback, even if it's just a short blurb. I enjoy hearing from you all :)
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