Ithilien, FA 4 (1425 SR)

Faramir stood at the balcony of Ithilien House.  He loved this view; Edenithil, the new capital of Ithilien, spread before him.  Edenithil, a Sindarin phrase meaning the renewed moon, seemed an apt name for what they were asked to create in Ithilien under the King’s edict.  He surveyed the settlement, for that is what it was, for the moment.  The future and hard work would bring the rest.  The future, Faramir thought. On this day the future and the past collided.  It was Remembrance Day as declared by the King throughout the realms of the Reunited Gondor and Arnor, when the three Elven Ringbearers and Frodo sailed for the Undying Lands, with the hope of healing Frodo’s soul.  He had not been there to witness it those few years ago but Aragorn had told him the tale and after Aragorn decreed that the 29th of this month of September would be set aside to remember those who were no longer with us, either in the Undying Lands or having gone beyond the veil and were now with Eru Ilúvatar.  A shuddering sigh rattled through Faramir as he remembered all who had made the ultimate sacrifice, Damrod, his second in Henneth Annûn , and of course, Boromir.  During the war there was no time to mourn.  After the war there was still so much to do and Aragorn had much need of him that he barely had time for thought beyond the task for the day and the next and the next.  It was only after his marriage to Éowyn had he time for grief and Éowyn had helped him through it, though days like today were still difficult to bear.  

Éowyn entered the balcony and was about to tease her sometimes too serious husband, a favourite pastime of hers, when she heard the shuddering sigh escape.  “Oh, my love, it is hard this day, but we will travel through it, emotions come as they may.”  She said softly into the soft velvet back of his deep blue dressing gown as she gently hugged him and placed her cheek on his back.

Faramir, at her words, turned around in her arms and looked into her blue depths.  He stared into her eyes, ever amazed that she was his.  “Yes, we will.  With you at my side I can face anything.”  He bent to kiss her forehead and then her lips feeling her essence and her love enter his soul strengthening his resolve to face this day.

The ceremony of Remembrance was a new one devised from the heart to simply to remember those who were no longer with us and those who were still with us.  It was to show gratitude for the sacrifices they made and to help heal the wounds that they still carried.   Many of those who had chosen to honour the King’s Request and move to Ithilien had been much affected by the Ring War.  Many came to try and leave behind the pain and grief of a lost loved one or perhaps after injury seek a new way of living.  As such as this day was filled with emotion.  Éowyn and the women of the settlement had been preparing white ribbon flowers symbolic of the blooming flowers of the White Tree that grew in the courtyard of the Citadel in Minas Tirith for the better part of a month.  They were for all those who served or who were remembering one who made the sacrifice.  It was a communal sharing among the women.  They shared camaraderie and stories of loved one both happy and sad over the time spent and it also gave Éowyn an idea of who might be needing a little extra help over the coming winter whether that be emotional or physical without losing their dignity through having to ask.  It was something reminiscent of her weekly visits that she would pay to the Edoras citizenry when Theoden was King.  It was a labour of love that Éowyn was happy to lead though she felt sorry for whoever was to receive the white flowers made by her, for her homecrafting skills had still not seen much improvement over the years.

The commemoration began with all the families and friends gathered in the town square in front of Ithilien House.   Faramir and Éowyn stood on the steps leading up to the House.  Each family or group would climb the steps and receive a flower and Faramir would enquire of each celebrant, “Did you serve?  Who do you wish to honour?”  Each family would answer, and they would share a memory or two if they so choose. Éowyn would give the white flower and say “We will remember” or “Thank you for your service” if no memory was offered.  This year the names mentioned were being written down by the official scribe and those names were to be sent by Gimli to Erebor for the Dwarven craftsmen to create a memorial for the next year’s commemoration.  The Dwarven gift to Ithilien and its prince.

Stepping forward was a young couple.  The young woman held a newborn in her arms and a worried look on her face Éowyn noted.  Faramir greeted them warmly.  He looked in the young man’s eyes and knew immediately that his first question had already been answered.  He knew that haunted look that hid behind the man’s eyes.  “Did you serve?”

“Yes,” came the quiet answer as shame flashed in the young man’s eyes, Faramir noted with a flare of concern.  He looked quickly at Éowyn to see if she had noted as much.  She had. 

Faramir asked. “What is your name?”

Concern flashed in the young man’s eyes and then was quickly concealed, “Lornion, my lord.”

Éowyn handed the first white flower to Lornion, “Thank you for your service, Lornion.” He accepted the flower nodding, again shame colouring his face briefly.

“Thank you, My Lady.” 

Éowyn's forehead creased with concern.  She turned to the young wife, “And you are?”

“Gelneth, My Lady,” she spoke in just above a whisper, and dropped a small child-ladened curtsy.  

Éowyn smiled and tucked the flower within the folds of the newborn’s blanket. “How old?”

“Lainor will be six months next week,” she stated.

“He looks to be a fine, strapping lad,” Faramir replied cheerfully.

“He is, my lord,” Gelneth affirmed spiritedly.

“Have you just come to Ithilien?”  Faramir asked.

Again, Lornion was silent and Gelneth answered for them both. “Oh yes!  My Lord.  My brother came last year and so,” she paused and gave Éowyn a look of quiet supplication, “We came…to follow him and be with family.”

Éowyn smiled and looked at Gelneth with a speaking look.  “We are so pleased that you have come to Ithilien.  It is a place of new beginnings.”  Gelneth looked at her with eyes that said, “I pray you are right!”  Éowyn knew that look of quiet desperation; she had lived that life too many years.  “What say you to the idea that I should come and see the baby.  I would dearly love that!”

“Yes, My Lady.” she said hesitantly as she cast a furtive look at her husband who seemed to be somewhat coaxed out of his shell by Faramir, talking man to man.

“Leave where you are lodging with my scribe, and I will come by to arrange a time.”  Éowyn smiled as she saw a little of the desperation leave the young brown eyes.

“Yes, My Lady!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After all the flowers had been handed out and the stories told and more importantly listened to,  Faramir stood on the top step of the keep next to the small bonfire to be lit and called out to the gathered citizenry, “We gather here in the light of day to honor and to remember.  Today we honour and remember those who have left us, and we will feel sad because we have been deprived of their presence in our lives, but we must also have joy in our hearts because they sacrificed all so that the world they fought to protect would continue to be filled with joy and happiness.  Let this day be for remembering our departed, but also thanking those among us who are still here for the part they played that shall never be forgotten.”  He reached for the taper that just been lit by Eirik.  He held the taper to the kindling beneath the wood to form the bonfire.  “I light this fire knowing that the flame of life for my dear ones who have departed will never truly be extinguished.”  His voice caught just a little as he thought of his beloved brother and of his father, a man he had never truly understood.  He cleared his throat to speak strongly, “Come join in the sharing of the light of memory and the light of gratitude.  Speak their names if only in your hearts.”  He took his own candle and lit it and stepped above to allow the line to form.  Next Éowyn stepped forward with her candle and lit it.  Faramir heard the whispered words, “For you, my beloved Uncle, who shall live in my heart. I carry forth your light into the future you wanted so desperately for your people.”

After the commemoration people gathered in pubs and houses or whatever street parties had been arranged. As Faramir and Éowyn walked through the streets of Edenithil to visit friends they could see that people had set their candles in the windows to alight the night with remembrance.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning Éowyn wasted no time in visiting Gelneth at their lodgings a few doors past the newly built inn.  The lodgings were there for those who had just arrived and needed time to adjust to life anew in Edenithil.  In these lodgings they could get to know people and see how they could contribute to restoring Ithilien to its former glory.  Not all incoming families needed the lodgings, but Éowyn and Faramir designated these lodgings as a place where shelter and food and camaraderie were to be found for those who needed it.  And from the looks she had received from Gelneth, they were a family most definitely in need of help.  Éowyn crossed over the threshold of the main building and greeted Eliadis who was mistress of Records for the place, 

“Good morning, Eliadis!”

“Good morning, My Lady!”  The woman smiled as she set down her teacup.  “What can I do for you?”

“You have a Gelneth and Lornion staying here, recently in from Lossenarch?”

Eliadis’ eyes grew concerned, “Yes we do.”

“Eliadis, what is wrong?  What is the problem?” she asked, her suspicions of their distress confirmed by her words.

“Oh My Lady!  There is nothing wrong.” She emphasized the word “wrong.”  “They seem like good people.  Gelneth is a delight.  Lornion is quiet.  Words do not come easily.  Except at night.  He has nightmares…” She finished quietly.

Éowyn pursed her lips and sighed. She knew what troubled him, at least in part.  To have survived this long… “Can you tell what rooms they are in?”

“Yes, My Lady.  They are in room twelve.  Just down the hall and to your right.  You can help them, surely?  They seem like nice people.” 

Éowyn sighed, “I will do my best, Eliadis,” She picked up her basket filled with homey things and headed in the direction of room twelve.  It was clear that Gelneth knew there was a problem.  It was also clear that Lornion did not want to talk about it.  She must know more before she could render any kind of help.

She knocked gently, for fear that Lanior would be asleep.  Elboron had been a light sleeper and was a bit of a fusspot getting back to sleep.  The door opened a crack and Gelneth’s face appeared, “Oh my Lady!”  she opened the door wide to allow entrance.  “I wasn’t expecting you today!  The place is a bit of a state.  Lanior would not sleep last night and I have only just gotten him down.”  She said as she hastily removed her work apron.  “Would you like some tea?”

Éowyn hid a smile.  Gondorians loved their tea.  It was not something that had quite reached the Mark, though she meant to do something about that.  She was growing fond of the drink. “That would be lovely!  Black with a bit of honey if you have it.”  She looked around the room.  It was somewhat untidy, laundry unfolded and a few scattered items but with a newborn that was only to be expected.  She was lucky, she had help with the house.  Left to her own devices, she shuddered to think.  “I have brought you a few things.  Think of them as welcoming gifts.  She set the basket down on an uncluttered portion of the table amid morning dishes.  She started to take dishes to the sink. 

Gelneth was quick to object, “Oh My Lady!  You needn’t do that.” Referring to the dishes. “And we have been given so much already.”

“Pish!  What are friends for?”

Gelneth simply stared for a few seconds unused to the Quality in their little village in near Pelagir but she was sure they did not help with the dishes as a rule.  She began to warm to Éowyn.

Within minutes the table was clear.  Éowyn began unloading the basket, “I brought Lanior a little something.  And a little something for you as well.”

Gelneth burst into tears.  Éowyn immediately put down the loaf of bread she was holding and stepped over to hug the sobbing woman.  She allowed her to sob for a few moments.  “Shh!  Shh!  Whatever it is we can solve it together.  You are not alone.”  she guided her over to the table and proceeded to bring the two tea cups over to the table setting Gelneth’s in front of her and settling in herself with her own cup allowing the smooth sweet tea’s aroma to waft throughout the room.  “Now my dear, what is it?  What do you need to tell me?  I sense that Lornion is out.”

Gelneth sniffed and nodded as she took a tentative sip of the hot brew.  Sip taken she seemed a little more composed. “Oh, My Lady!”

Éowyn stopped her, “Just Éowyn.  Troubles are so much more quickly share between friends.”

Gelneth paused and then started again, “Éowyn.  We came here for a new start.  I thought it would do Lornion good.  But it hasn’t seemed to make a difference.  Ever since he left Pelagir and followed the king.”  She looked up alarmed that maybe she had insulted the King, “Not that I blame the King.  It needed to be done.  But my Lornion has not been the same since.  He was a carpenter and a shipbuilder by trade. Before…”

Éowyn sighed.  Taking a sip of the slowly cooling tea, she was reminded of her own troubles.  “The trouble is within not without.” she murmured.

“Pardon, my- Éowyn.  What was that?”

Éowyn shook her head, “He carries his memories wherever he goes.”  She looked the other woman in the eye, “The King would not be offended by what you just said.” She paused to gather her thoughts into some semblance of a way forward, “I think we need to start from the beginning.  The troubles started after he left with the King…” 

“Yes…He answered the King’s call.  He took part in the battle before the White City and thankfully took no injury.  Perhaps it would be better if he had.”

“Why do you say that?”

Gelneth replied, eyes filled with memory, “Because then whatever happened next is what changed him…” She paused, “And visits him even now…  But I cannot get him to talk about it.”

Éowyn chewed her lip pensively. Gently she asked, “Did he go to the Black Gate?”

“Yes” came the delayed response, “And no.  He did not complete the journey and this is where the shame will color his face and his heart, too, and he will simply stop talking as I am sure you probably noticed.”  She looked up from studying the rim of her teacup and into a depth of compassion in Éowyn’s eyes that she did not expect.  “He could not go; he retreated to Cair Andros with others that the King released from their obligation for the Black Gate.  It is a shame he has never been able to forget or forgive himself for.”

“He has nothing to be ashamed of,” Éowyn fervently stated.  Gelneth was shocked by the passion of those words and the slightly haunted look in her new friend’s eyes.  “A lesser man would have folded, but he is still here!  He is to be admired, not carry the wounds as a shame.”  Éowyn breathed deeply to calm her raging soul.  It was the Nazgul, of this she had no doubt.  They had dogged the army that traveled to the Black Gate and there were those among the army with little experience of such horrors.  Lornion had clearly been one of these.  “Did he ever seek healing in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith after the battles?”

Shaking her head, Gelneth replied, “No, he carried no injury.  After those of Lossenarch were discharged he came back home.”

“Not long after, the nightmares started?”

“How did you kn–” Gelneth looked shamefaced, “I’m sorry we have caused so much trouble…maybe we should just go back to Lossenarch.  It is our burden to carry.  I’m sorry!”

“NO!” Éowyn declared forcefully, “Lornion received this burden because of his service to Gondor and to the Light.  He needs healing and there is no shame in that. He is not alone.  And neither are you.” Éowyn’s voice softened, “I will speak with my husband.  We will help.” 

Gelneth burst into tears again.  She had felt so alone.  Éowyn hugged her, “He can return from this.  I know he can.”  

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn sat in his study pouring over reports as he waited for Faramir to appear for their weekly meeting.  He looked up at the opening of a door.  "Faramir, good! we can begin. I think with the Lebennin,"  Aragorn stated before looking up.

"Before all of that, there is a matter I wish to discuss." came a female voice that had grown close to his heart.  Aragorn looked up, "Éowyn!  So lovely it is to see you." He quickly stood up and closed the short gap between him and two people he held close to his heart.  He hugged both Faramir and Éowyn. "What is it, Éowyn.  What I can do.  Ask and it shall be done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Eliadis looked up from a treatise she was reading when she heard the jingling tack of many horses.  Her jaw dropped when she saw King Elessar enter with Lord and Lady Éowyn following after him.  She stumbled to her feet and dropped a small curtsy.

“Rise,” Aragorn stated quickly, “You are among friends.”

Eliadis rose, through her shoulders back, “What do you ask of me, my king?”

Aragorn inwardly sighed at the formality that seemed to follow him everywhere.  Life was so much simpler as a mere Ranger but he quickly pushed that thought aside.  “Can you do something for me?”

“Anything!  What is it that you require?”

“I need a small empty room and after that I want you bring the young couple Gelneth and Lornion to me in that small room.”

“At once!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lornion had been told that Gelneth needed him at home by a courier who had arrived from their lodgings.  Worry seized his heart, “not the baby,” he muttered to himself.  “And not Gelneth either,” he would not survive; they were his reason for living.  “Please let it not be what I am fearing.”  He kept saying.

He saw Eliadis at the front desk, “Where is my wife?”  He demanded more harshly than he had meant.  Eliadis simply smiled, “She is unharmed; she and the baby are well.  If you will follow me!”

They entered a room not far from their rooms and Lornion was immediately assaulted with memories, fond memories from his childhood.  A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. He looked and his eyes found his wife and his soul relaxed.  Next, he saw the king sitting on a wooden chair looking at him with such compassion in his eyes. “Lornion, son of Bastion, come forward to me, please.” A voice of supplication.  His feet responded before his brain had a chance to feel ashamed in his king’s presence.  He knelt before the King, head bowed.

Aragorn watched as the man came forward and knelt before him.  His heart ached for what the man endured these last years.  He placed both hands on the man’s shoulders, “Lornion, son of Bastion.  Look into my eyes.”  Lornion looked up reluctantly.  “I look into the eyes,” Aragorn continued, “of a man who I served with as we fought the darkness.  I look into eyes of a man who rode with me to what was certain death and yet did not flinch.”

“But my King!  I did not.  I was scared.  I did not do my duty.”

“You met with an unnatural horror that you could not have known in your life of peace before the war.  There was no shame in that.  You did as I asked.  You rode and cleared Cair Andros of the foulness that had besieged it.  You did your duty and need not be ashamed.  I call you brother because you answered my call to serve the light and received wounds in the service of it.”  Aragorn still holding Lornion’s gaze move his hands to the man’s head and placed a kiss on the man’s forehead, Aragorn thought, “Be healed, my brother!  Live no longer in shadow.”

He pulled back and looked again to pale blue eyes.  Aragorn stood, “Rise my brother!  I honour your pain and sacrifice.  It will always be a part of you.  We all have scars but our past only informs our lives; it does not shape it.  Look to the future, always look forward.”  

Lornion looked at Aragorn and for the first time in a very long time he felt the beginnings of hope.

~*~*~*~*~