Getting Away from it All

Elessar Telcontar, the Renewer, the King of Gondor and Arnor, heaved a deep, blissful sigh as he stretched out on the rabbit-nibbled turf.  Stripped of his heavy robes, his fine undershirt open at the neck and sporting, in addition to delicate sprays of barely-visible embroidery, indications of grass stains, sweat and streaks of dirt, he looked almost like the Ranger of old.  His Queen thoughtfully added a scattering of scrunched-up dried leaves to his hair, and he opened one eye in protest, only to subside as she smiled at him.

‘I think you got the better of this deal,’ he informed his Steward.  ‘Is there any chance that you would consider exchanging Ithilien for the city of Minas Tirith?’

Faramir sprawled beside the water, basking in the hot sunshine.  ‘I doubt the nobility of Gondor could survive the displeasure of the Lady Wraith-slayer were she in command of the Citadel,’ he said idly, grunting rather inelegantly as a firm finger prodded the sensitive area just beneath his ribs.

‘The soft-bellied Lords of Gondor would benefit from a season or two labouring among their tenants,’ Éowyn pronounced.  ‘They would get a much better idea of the important things in life.  And, as for their wives …’ She sniffed disdainfully.  Despite her determined forbearance towards the different customs prevalent in her husband’s homeland, nothing had yet made her aware of any merit to the sharp-eyed, soft-bosomed, convention-clutching, poison-tongued, powdered and painted femininity of Gondor’s aristocratic ladies.

‘It is just as well they are afraid of you,’ her husband yawned.  ‘And that you are too noble and generous to rip apart those who are so clearly not worthy of your attention.’

Arwen’s musical laugh surprised him.  Somehow she was … so lissom, so elegant, so poised and beautiful, that he had, still, to remind himself that Aragorn also insisted that she was a competent archer, a scholar worthy of her parentage and – according to her brothers – a opponent quite capable enough with a knife to be worth avoiding when wrathful, who doubtless found the rank-obsessed, alliance-seeking women who surrounded her just as irritating company as did Éowyn.

‘Unfortunately,’ Faramir returned to his liege’s question, ‘you are the King – while I am merely your Steward.  Which means that I get to hold the border region and work to restore prosperity to the land, while you are obliged to sit on the throne and conciliate ambassadors.  So I am afraid, my lord King, I must reject your offer of the White City and, instead, endure many more days such as this.’

Aragorn harrumphed his displeasure, but his response lacked any genuine force.  It had taken less time than he had expected to convince Denethor’s son that he prized his friendship – and, once he had relaxed his caution, Faramir had proved to be every bit as good at providing support to his King as he had to his brother.  Not to mention that he concealed a wicked sense of humour that seemed to go right over the heads of the lords his wife so despised.  ‘If Ithilien is so dangerous,’ he mused, ‘what are we doing relaxing here in the open?  Are you trying to rid Gondor of its rightful ruler, by any chance?’

‘As if you did not know …’ Arwen leaned forward with a fluid ease that the others could only envy and kissed her husband’s brow, ‘that we are surrounded by the finest of the White Company – and that they are supported by your own Guard.’

‘I was trying to ignore that inconvenient fact.’  He reached up to caress her cheek.  ‘Even this illusion of freedom is better than none.’

‘It is a shame that it is nothing but an illusion,’ she agreed.  ‘It is hotter here than it ever is in Imladris – and I would love to spend the afternoon splashing in the water.’  She grinned roguishly.  ‘Only I am sure that my lord would object to my stripping to no more than my shift to swim under the eye of Ithilien’s finest warriors.’

‘There!’ Éowyn declared.  ‘I told you elves could not possibly be as … as ethereal and prissy as you wished me to believe they were!  Why should we not swim on a day as hot as this one?’

Faramir groaned and covered his eyes with one forearm.  ‘Thank you, my lady Queen,’ he said.  ‘You have destroyed my careful attempt at indoctrination with that one casual statement.  Éowyn sees no reason why we should not take advantage of the forest pools and puts my reluctance to strip off at the least provocation down to an adherence to one of Gondor’s least sensible customs.  Now you have informed her that elves have nothing against mixed bathing, I shall never be able to hold her back.’

‘It is not the bathing – it is the audience,’ Aragorn objected, rolling to support himself on his elbow. 

Arwen smiled.  ‘It is only the presence of the guards that would make it safe to do it in the first place,’ she pointed out.  ‘Were they not there, it would still be an act of insanity to loll among the trees of Ithilien unarmed and unwary.’  She smiled at him forgivingly. ‘But I will not bathe if you would prefer me not to do so.’

The look pinning Faramir was decidedly less co-operative and contained a definite challenge, but Gondor’s Steward refused to wither beneath it.  The King suppressed a laugh.  He had, at first, rather feared that Faramir, who was such a good-natured man, would be putty in the hands of the strong-willed Shieldmaiden, but he had discovered that Faramir’s calm concealed a remarkable power to absorb and deflect far more ferocious opposition than that aimed at him by the White Lady of Rohan.  The Steward, he had noticed, tended – very quietly and unobtrusively – to get his way with more than just his wife.

‘When we visit my uncle,’ Faramir promised easily, ‘you shall swim in the sea.  There is a small cove below the castle with an expanse of white sand, where my aunt would take my cousins to sport in the water. Boromir and I played there as children.’

Aragorn propped himself on one elbow and twisted his head to meet his wife’s shadowed eyes.  ‘The sea at Dol Amroth is not as it is in the north,’ he said.  ‘It spreads before you the colour of a bluebell wood in spring, and its breath caresses your cheek, soft as silk and warm as a lover’s hand, as it brings you scents of exotic places and promises of adventure.’

Her hand played with his hair, twisting the dark strands round her fingers to make rings.  He knew her too well – at times it disturbed her how easily this child of the Secondborn discerned fears buried deep within her.  The sullen grey of surging waves and the cry of gulls reminded her only too strongly of the harbour at Mithlond and the salt-water taste of her tears – and she did not want to think of who now dwelt on the other side of the sundering sea.  ‘My grandmother would tell me – on occasion,’ she told him, ‘of the pearl-like sand of Alqualondë and the white-capped waves.  Of the gleaming swan-ships and the dolphins that followed them and the silver fish that leapt from the water to send rainbows sprays into the air.’

Faramir unveiled his eyes.  ‘The fishing boats of Dol Amroth bear red sails,’ he said, ‘and the harbour is white with swans that gather on the blue water – but, there too, dolphins play out in the bay.’ 

For a moment, she wondered if he, too, could read her mind, but he smiled sadly, and she realised he was lost in memories of his own – of times gone by and loved ones lost.

‘Perhaps, one day, you will show me coast of Belfalas,’ she suggested as Aragorn linked his fingers with hers and squeezed gently.

The sharpness of the Steward’s glance suggested he was not as unaware of her difficulties with the sea as she would like.  ‘I would be honoured, my lady,’ he said politely.  ‘I have always had a great affection for my mother’s homeland and look forward to showing its beauties to you.’

Éowyn pressed her lips together.  At least half the time, it seemed, conversations took place in what seemed a language she had only part-learned, and she was left attempting to grasp meanings that were beyond her.  It was very irritating – she did not appreciate being made to feel a child kept on the edge of adult discussions.  Her husband moved his knee to nudge against her and her vexation eased.  She was, after all, very glad that she was not an ageless elf who had surrendered her family and her never-ending life to bind herself to a mortal – and neither would she change Faramir for any other man.  She smiled at him forgivingly.  It was not his fault that his friendship was sought by the great – their affection for him was perfectly understandable and only went to prove their good taste.   ‘I am looking forward to my first sight of the sea,’ she said.  ‘I find it hard to imagine anything that vast – the Anduin is broad enough for one accustomed to the Snowbourn.’

A slow smile spread across Aragorn’s face.  ‘I remember my first visit to Dol Amroth,’ he said.  ‘The sight of water that stretched as far as I could see – that made the land seem no more than the prow of a ship cutting into endlessly rocking ocean.  Had I not had company, I think I might have fallen to my knees and hugged the ground – in simple reassurance that it, at least, remained steady.’

Faramir refrained from laughter.  Deliberately imposing control over his reaction.  It made him curl his toes and press a hand against his sun-warmed belly, but he managed to curb his desire to snigger at the image of a sober-faced Dúnadan driven to assure himself of the solidity of the ground beneath his feet.  ‘How did you deal with my grandfather’s casual intrepidity on the water?’ he asked.  ‘Adrahil was never one to suffer easily those whose stomachs let them down when it came to sailing.’

‘Fortunately,’ Aragorn bragged, ‘the ocean intimidated me less once I was closer to it.  I proved a good sailor.’

‘Descendant of the Sea-Kings,’ Arwen observed.

‘I understand he won the approval of my grandfather, too,’ Éowyn said dryly.  ‘By flaunting his talents on horseback.’

Three pairs of eyes settled accusingly on the relaxed King.

‘What?’ he said defensively.  ‘It is not my fault that Adar and Glorfindel assured themselves that my education was … thorough.’

‘Or,’ said Arwen, tousling his hair further, ‘that my brothers did their best to teach you all they knew.’

‘It is a wonder to me that you survived childhood relatively unscarred, my lord – emulating older brothers, as I know too well, can be rather a dangerous occupation,’ Faramir observed.  ‘And Lord Elrond’s sons seem … alarmingly intrepid.’ 

‘It is a performance they put on,’ their sister declared.  ‘They like everyone to think that they lack a responsible thought between them – but they are, in truth, excellent guardians of the young, for they would protect them against all-comers whilst letting them learn their own lessons when they are ready to do so.’

‘While they know how to  play,’ Aragorn smiled.  ‘And I was in great need of someone with whom I could play.’  He raised a dark eyebrow at his wife.  ‘Is anyone within earshot?’ he asked. 

She tilted her head, allowing the sounds of water and wildfowl, whispering trees and the forest’s shy residents to fill her senses.  ‘No,’ she said.  ‘None who would pay any heed to our words.’

Faramir sat up, his expression alert.  ‘It was only to be expected,’ he apologised.  ‘Not everyone was going to be delighted by the King’s return.  Not once the initial excitement had worn off.’

‘I do not expect everyone to love me,’ Aragorn said mildly.  ‘But I will not tolerate the machinations of those who wish to remove me from my throne.  I would prefer to end this without bloodshed – there has been enough of that – but I will not hesitate to act if I think it necessary.’

Éowyn shrugged.  ‘Sometimes a show of force pays for itself,’ she said.  ‘Behead the serpent – and others will think twice.  Let them think you are weak and the vultures will gather.’

‘She has a point,’ Faramir agreed reluctantly.

‘Yet you cannot confront the …’ Arwen grinned, ‘soft-bellied Lords of Gondor on suspicion and the word of a few underlings.  Plots, like boils, must be brought to a head before they can be lanced.’

‘I … do not like it.’  Aragorn’s mouth twisted, as if he had bitten down on a bitter nut among the sweet.  His hand involuntarily sought hers.  ‘I would not put you in danger,’ he said intently.  ‘I promised Adar that I would do everything …’

‘You have.’  Arwen’s silver-grey eyes fixed on her husband compellingly.  ‘You are not responsible for every frailty of the world, my Estel.  And I would rather stand shoulder to shoulder with you than be shielded in a cage, no matter how beautifully wrought it might be.’

Éowyn twitched, the sudden movement drawing Faramir’s attention and he placed a hand on her knee without comment.    

‘There is nothing personal in Aníron’s opposition,’ the Steward commented as he watched a heron spread its wings to shade the water before it.  ‘He opposes everything on principle.  Even my father could not silence him fully – which is why he ended up exiled to his estates.  The one who concerns me more is Pathred.  He is a weasel of a man – he smiles too much to your face, but is always there to scoop whatever profit he can from others’ failures.  He will hide behind Aníron, if he can, and let him bear the blame – and, at worst, escape with no more than a fine, which he will recoup by upping his tenants’ rents.’

‘Your knowledge of these people is invaluable,’ Aragorn approved.  ‘They will come to wish they had revealed less of themselves to Denethor’s sharp-eyed son.’  He shook his head as he smiled at one he could not help but find delightfully precocious, for all the younger man’s experience of war and hardship.  ‘In fact, I doubt I would be king now if it were not for you, Faramir.  Birth is one thing – but that was not enough to smooth my path to the winged crown.’

‘Of course leading the Armies of the West to victory over Sauron did not help your cause at all,’ his Steward said dryly. 

‘Even that would not have bought me the White City had you chosen to stand against me.’

Faramir raised his eyebrows.  ‘Why would I do that?’ he asked with genuine bafflement.  ‘You had the right.’

‘If that were all it took,’ Aragorn pointed out, ‘we would not be having this conversation, for none would be scheming to rid Gondor of … how do they put it?  The jumped-up spectre of a buried past disinterred from the primitive north?’

‘They are nowhere near that polite,’ Éowyn grinned.

‘And do not forget perverted elf-lover,’ Arwen added.  ‘You would think they would know by now how good an elf’s hearing is.  But they are stupid as well as prejudiced.’

‘Now for that, I would not mind making them suffer,’ the King growled.

‘They are not too fond of me, either,’ Éowyn said with relish.  ‘Poor Faramir is condemned without trial for diluting his blood-lines with one of an inferior race.’

Faramir snorted.  ‘Though they think if safer not to patronise you to your face.’

‘I will have you know I have been following the example of the Queen and behaving like a perfect lady,’ his wife informed him haughtily.  ‘Although I cannot say for how much longer I will hide my irritation behind a smile.’

‘We had better sort all this out soon, then,’ the King told his Steward.  ‘I doubt the kingdom could withstand a seriously enraged Lady Wraith-slayer.  And Rohan would undoubtedly ride to her defence should we take her to task.’

‘Undoubtedly,’ Faramir agreed easily.  ‘My brother-by-marriage took me to one side before consigning his closest kin to my care and assured me, that although he had the deepest respect for you and was prepared to tolerate my presence in his life, any distress caused to his sister would be paid for in blood.  Mine, preferably, but he was willing to compromise on that if the need arose.’

‘You seem to take it very calmly.’ The King’s gravity was outstanding, but his amusement could be detected by the discerning.

‘I am hoping to convince him that any insult has been offered by others – and that I have done everything in my capabilities to avenge the White Lady of Rohan.’

The slap that Éowyn landed on his arm was definitely designed not to injure, but it did not stop the escape of a pitiful moan – which did not convince her in the slightest.  ‘So what are our plans?’ she demanded.

‘We give them rope,’ her husband said.  ‘And leave it to the conspirators to do the rest.  We have enough people in place to watch them – they will not be able to scratch their … heads without our knowing of it.  When the time is right, the trap will snap shut – and our plotters will be caught.  Until then …’ he lifted his head to hold his wife’s gaze, ‘we behave as if we knew nothing and were indeed the fools they think us.’

‘It goes against the grain,’ she admitted.

Faramir looped a strong arm round his Shieldmaiden and drew her down to rest her fair head on his chest.  ‘And will make it easier to catch them out,’ he said firmly.

The King and Queen exchanged a glance that detailed volumes to those who could read it.  ‘Legolas is watching,’ Arwen shrugged.  ‘And the remnants of Lord Húrin’s irregulars have been diverted to this cause.  I fail to see what else we can do.  At least, not before the schemes move from idle talk to action.’

Aragorn subsided, his sigh deflating him like a pricked bladder, his head coming to rest in his lady’s lap.  ‘I do not wish to waste this day on those who do their best to inflict themselves on my notice,’ he said.  ‘I spend too much time on them as it is – and here, in Ithilien, I wish to do my best to imagine, for a while, that I am the man I know.  The man I have been since I went out into the world.’

‘You are no longer that Estel,’ Arwen told him.  ‘You have not been that boy for a long time, and to pretend you are is to delude yourself.’  Her hands cupped his face and she bent to kiss him.  ‘So short a space of years,’ she said sadly, ‘and so much change.  So many dreams spent in seeking the realisation of this destiny – so much lost.’

‘And gained.’  Éowyn sounded content in a most … unShieldmaidenlike way.  She turned her head to place a kiss on Faramir’s wrist – the only part of him she could reach without the effort of moving.

‘Are there any fish in that lake?’ Arwen asked, after a while.  ‘Perhaps, if you were to catch some, we could light a fire and cook them – and remain here until after the stars open.’

Her husband stretched languorously.  ‘Temptress,’ he accused, showing little inclination to move.

‘Does my lord know how to catch fish without either line or net?’ Faramir asked doubtfully – ensuring that Aragorn would be unable to resist a show of his arduously-acquired competence.

Éowyn gazed after the suddenly-enthused men as they departed and then switched a dubious look at the Queen.

‘I am never quite sure whether Faramir is a genius at managing people – or simply interested in those round him.’  Arwen smiled and nodded at the Princess of Ithilien.  ‘Both, I think.  It is a gift.’

‘I will not have what we have won lost to those crawling things,’  Éowyn said fiercely, as a burst of laughter echoed across the water from two slick bodies half-hidden by the willow fronds that offered a shady haven to the lake’s fish.

‘Are you determined enough to play the bird with the injured wing?’ the Queen asked.  ‘Appear helpless in order to draw the predators in?’

‘I dread the appearance of weakness,’ the White Lady of Rohan admitted. 

‘But, this time, vulnerability would be no more than an act – an act that concealed your strength.’

‘I will play whatever part is asked of me,’ Éowyn promised. 

‘If rumour were to have it that one or both of us were carrying our lord’s heir … it would drive the bigots to act swiftly.’

A warm flush coloured Éowyn’s pale skin, deepening as Arwen’s eyebrows soared in instant comprehension.

‘It is too soon to be sure,’ the Shieldmaiden said awkwardly.  ‘I have not yet said anything to …’

‘May I?’  The Queen extended one hand tentatively and, at Éowyn’s nod, placed it gently over the other’s abdomen.  ‘A strong spirit,’ she said in delight.  ‘Tenacious – like his mother.’

Éowyn blinked as Arwen looked up, eyes filled with tears, but said nothing as the Queen sniffed – something only the half-elf could do elegantly. 

‘I have known so few little ones,’ Arwen confessed.  ‘Imladris – the Golden Wood –never in my lifetime have they been home to many elflings.  Elves have few young – and the progeny of unions between elves and men are fewer still.  Suppose I cannot …?  And, if I pass that test, how can I be sure that I will be a good mother to Estel’s children?’

The Rohirric woman shrugged.  ‘You just do it,’ she said helplessly.  ‘There is no point fretting over the matter.  You marry, you have children, you raise them as best you can and you let them go.’ 

‘I have had too long to brood over it all,’ the Queen sighed.  ‘Too long to take anything for granted – or expect it to be easy for us.’

Whoever would have thought, Éowyn marvelled, that Elessar’s perfect bride was subject to the uncertainties and insecurities that affected a normal woman?  Perhaps it would be possible – with more time to accustom herself to the idea – to become, as Faramir wished, real friends with one who had also left her home and kin to settle in the south with the man she loved. 

Arwen straightened and patted the Shieldmaiden’s wrist in a way that promised she would keep her secret, smiling at two now very wet men returning, abashed, without showing off strings of silver fish.  ‘Which of you two Rangers, then, proved more expert?’ she asked teasingly. 

‘I declare the contest void,’ Aragorn protested.  ‘Faramir knows the lie of the land – and the fish clearly recognised his authority over mine.  He pushed me into taking an inferior position – and I never recovered.’

‘Not once you had splashed into the water and the fish had all decided to seek a quieter place to rest,’ the Steward remarked.  ‘It is a good thing it is a warm day.’

‘Well!’ Éowyn huffed in protest.  ‘I see you both get to swim – whilst Arwen and I sit here and roast.’

Faramir pushed his damp hair back from his face to trail trickles of water over the back of his shirt.  ‘It is most unfair,’ he agreed.  ‘Next time Aragorn can attempt to better your fishing skills while I get to bask in the sun and idle the day away.  You have not even prepared a fire over which we could have toasted our catch.’

‘I am no Ranger to turn every rest into an opportunity to eat,’ she told him snootily.  ‘I will leave such matters to you!  And besides,’ she added, ‘I did not bring the wherewithal to start a fire.’

‘Shieldmaiden she might be,’ Aragorn lowered his voice in a pretence of confiding in Faramir, ‘but she lacks the skills to survive in the wild without an army round her.’

‘Just as well,’ Faramir murmured, offering his wife a teasing smirk.  ‘For the sake of the wild, at any event.’

‘You are behaving like children escaped from the schoolroom,’ Arwen reproved them. 

Aragorn heaved a great sigh.  ‘That is exactly how I feel,’ he said.  ‘One who knows just precisely how displeased his tutors will be on his return – so that he wants to draw out his truancy to its utmost extent.’

‘Ensuring he earns every smidgeon of his penalty,’ Faramir agreed.  ‘As well be hanged for a deer as a rabbit.’

‘Such stolen days have an enchantment about them,’ Arwen said reminiscently.  ‘Well worth the punishment they attract.’ 

‘I cannot believe you ever skipped your lessons.’  The Shieldmaiden was clearly incredulous.  ‘Or that you did anything that brought your parents’ wrath upon your head.’

‘You have no idea!’  Aragorn shook his head.  ‘I have it on the best authority that Arwen’s apparent innocence conceals a mind at least twice as devious as her brothers’.  And elven childhood is long enough for elflings to get into far more mischief than men have time to do.’

‘Since your authority on the subject is doubtless those very brothers, you might want to consider their information less than reliable.’  The Queen stuck her nose in the air in mock indignation.   

‘If they were my only sources …’ Aragorn leaned closer, his rat-tails of damp hair mingling with his wife’s smooth locks as he murmured in her ear.

‘Wait until I next see Glorfindel!’ she said reproachfully.  ‘I will have a few things to say to him!’

The shadows of the trees behind them began to stretch out across the water and the gold of the day began to deepen to warmer glow.  Some distance away a horse whinnied and another responded.  Birds stirred from their afternoon’s rest to engage in a final flurry of feeding before they returned to their shelters and left the woods to the night’s hunters.

‘We should go,’ Aragorn said.  ‘The guards have been very patient, but it will not be much longer before they become restless and start clearing their throats or reporting sightings of owls or some such dangers to remind us that they have homes to which to go and other duties than hanging around in the woods.’

‘And Ithilien is still less than safe once the sun is set,’ Faramir sighed.  ‘There is no point in tempting fate – not when we have, in easy reach, the safety of Emyn Arnen’s walls to shelter us.’

‘We can come back,’ the Queen said hopefully.

‘Our plans demand it,’ Éowyn nodded.  ‘Where else can we be sure of avoiding those who spy on us?’

Aragorn turned back to look at the water shivering in the evening breeze as he settled his surcoat and adjusted his swordbelt.  ‘It is as good an excuse as any,’ he agreed.  ‘And a way of staying sane in the face of great provocation.’

‘Whenever you need it, my lord, for whatever reason,’ Faramir promised, ‘Ithilien will be here.’

The former Ranger gathered himself, shrugging on the King to conceal the man beneath, readying himself to resume his responsibilities.  ‘My friend,’ he stressed, ‘I am counting on it.’