Chapter 20

He woke to the delicious sensation of warm breath ghosting across his cheek and the touch of soft kiss pressed against his lips.

“Mmmn…,” he whispered, his eyes still closed, “what a lovely way to start the morning.” He stretched out and pulled her into his arms, attacking her neck with soft kisses and making her giggle.

“I’m sure it would be an excellent way to start the morning but as it is long passed noon we will have to test that theory another day,” she teased, leaning back to observe his reaction.

He sat bolt upright and grimaced at the brightness of the sunshine filling the room.

“What…Why… you should have woken me!”

“The fall of Mount Doom wouldn’t have woken you, My Love. You needed to sleep and there are others who are looking after the affairs of State until you have bathed and dressed and eaten a proper hot meal!” The look on her face would brook no opposition and he settled back, sheepishly, against the pillows.

“You are getting very bossy,” he pouted.

“Ferris will have your bath ready in a moment and the kitchens are sending up all of your favourite dishes, so you have no excuses for not eating”.

“How is Aragorn?”

“Much better, though he will be confined to bed for a few days yet. The Warden had him carried up to the bathing chamber and he seemed to get a lot of relief from having his limbs exercised gently in the water. He is resting now but he would like to see you later.” Faramir, watching her, noticed a sudden sadness in her expression.

“What is it, My Love?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Corrin passed in the night!”

“I sat with him last evening and said my farewells though I don’t think he knew I was there. It seems like the end of an era, like the last link with my Father has been broken. He served the Stewards all his life and his final duty led us to Aragorn…we would not have found him without his help.”

“He was a good man, Faramir, and he was very fond of you. I’m sure your presence gave him comfort.”

An hour later Faramir entered the outer chamber of the Royal Apartments. He was greeted warmly and with much teasing by the Elf and the Dwarf.

“I have asked Aragorn to approve an additional title to my official duties,” smirked Legolas.

“And what might that be?” Faramir asked, knowing that whatever the answer it would be a joke at his expense.

“The Keeper of the Steward’s Bedchamber!” He wasn’t quite quick enough to dodge the cushion flying his way and it caught the Elf on the side of the head.

“That is the third time I have had to help carry you to bed, my friend, I should at least get recognition for my endeavours.” Faramir blushed and pulled Gimli aside, whispering to him. Gimli nodded.

“You are right, Legolas. I am eternally grateful for the sacrifices you make on my behalf.” Legolas was so busy watching Faramir blush that he didn’t notice Gimli move round behind him and he suddenly found himself caught, the Dwarf’s strong arms encircling his body, pinning his arms to his side.

“Gimli! Release me!”

“Peace, Legolas.” Faramir stalked closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let me thank you for you kind ministrations.” He landed wet noisy kisses on the Elf’s cheeks and the ruffled his hair.

“You were right, Gimli,” Faramir asserted, “he blushes very prettily” Faramir got just a glance of the red-faced Elf scrubbing his sleeve across his face and smoothing his braids as he entered the King’s chamber.

Faramir stopped just inside the door and saluted. Aragorn was resting with his eyes closed, Arwen sat at his side. A bright smile illuminated her tranquil features when she recognised the visitor and she rose swiftly to greet him.

“You look better my friend. A good night’s rest has brought back the sparkle to your eyes,” she said.

“It is relief, My Lady,” he said, returning her embrace. “Have you told Aragorn your news,” he whispered. She nodded.

“No whispering…it is bad enough when the Healer’s whisper over me like I’m a child!” The hoarsely worded complaint drew their attention back to the King who watched them with a smile. He raised his hand and beckoned Faramir to his side.

“How are you feeling, Sire?” Faramir clasped his hand and took a seat at the bed side.

“I will be better when they release me from this bed.”

“You have my sympathy, Aragorn. The healers are tyrants…once they have you in their grasp they are loath to let you go. But then you should know this…I seem to remember you ordering me to bed and plying me with foul potions often enough!”

“Take care, youngster or I will soon be after you again.” It was a good natured threat.

“So, how fares my Kingdom? I understand that when it came down to it you were not too keen to step into my boots.”

“Your boots and your crown are safe, Sire. I was more than happy to keep them for their rightful owner; they would have fitted me ill. But your Kingdom is as well as can be expected under the circumstances; the City is secure and the perpetrators of this latest outrage await the process of justice as do the ex-councillors. Unfortunately Lord Haralil is beyond our reach; he took his own life and left others to face the consequences.” The King nodded.

“And how fares my Steward?” The King turned the hand clasping his own and examined the palm and then turned his scrutiny to the face of his friend. Faramir blushed under the intense inspection but offered no comment. “I would hazard to say that you have survived intact, if somewhat ragged around the edges.”

“I have had better weeks, Sire. I would not wish to repeat this one.”

“I would second that, my friend!”

“I have had a lot of visitors and they have been eager to tell me what has been happening during my absence. They have all been effusive in their praise of your actions, of how you handled yourself and the situation. Words seem inadequate but I would have you know that I will be forever in your debt for your support for Arwen during these last few difficult days…she tells me that you pledged your service to  our son…”

“It was an honour, though I am glad that circumstances made that pledge unnecessary.”

“Not unnecessary, Faramir. The lot of a King’s son and heir is not an easy one and I am sure that as he grows he will value your support and encouragement, as I do.”

“Thank you. I value your confidence in me though I am not sure that my own experience has prepared me for the role of mentor…or father.”

“I do have confidence in you, little brother. You know not to repeat the mistakes your father made and you have friends to turn to and to guide you…you will not fail.”

They sat in silence for a while and thinking to leave the King to rest Faramir prepared to leave.

“My apologies, Faramir. I keep doing that, dozing off, it is most disconcerting.”

“I should leave you to rest.”

“Not yet, tell me first what needs your attention.” Faramir looked to Arwen to seek her approval to prolong the audience.

“With your permission, I think it is time to reopen the city and get things back to normal. King Éomer and Prince Imrahil have both announced their intention to leave for to their own cities tomorrow.” The King nodded and for the next half hour they discussed plans for the next few days.

“One more thing Faramir. I understand that Lord Beranin is ready to present his findings to the tribunal. I would like you to preside over the final stage of the process. I will leave you to address the issue of sentencing!”

“Would it not be better to wait until you are recovered, Sire. Surely a matter of this magnitude requires your personal attention.”

“No Faramir, it was your diligence and effort that exposed their wrongdoing and it is only right that you should decide their fate. I will not interfere with your decisions but I will be here if you need my advice.”

“Thank you…there is one other matter, Aragorn. Do you wish to hear the case against Lord Haralil’s accomplice?

“Are you happy to deal with it?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Then I will leave it in your capable hands.”

A few moments later the King slipped back into sleep and Faramir sat for a while watching the lines of pain and exhaustion bleed away to leave his friend in peaceful repose. He raised the King’s hand and pressed a kiss of blessing and thankfulness against the long, calloused fingers.

“Sleep well, my friend,” he whispered, “it is good to have you back with us.” He rubbed his fist across his own damp cheek as he quietly exited the chamber.

~~**~~

The first of many meetings was with the Guard Commander. Their discussions on defence and security matters took some time as did the organisation of details for the administration of the death sentence to the King’s assailant. With those matters finally settled the Steward moved on to other matters he wished to discuss with the Commander.

Meanwhile in an ante room two pale faced Soldiers awaited their own audience with the Steward. Both were attired in full dress uniform and neither relished the prospect of the upcoming interview.

“Don’t worry, Darin,” Tamir whispered, “I will make sure he understands that it was all my idea.” The younger man couldn’t bring himself to answer, his last interview with the Steward clearly and painfully etched into his memory.

 The Commander signalled for them to enter and they marched forward to stand to attention before their Commander–in-Chief.  They saluted and stood to attention. The silence lengthened.

“Tamir, step back.” The Steward ordered. Puzzled, the Adjutant obeyed.

“So Darin, we meet again! I have heard various reports of the events surrounding Tamir’s unauthorised absence from the Wardens care; I would now like to hear your version!”

“Sir, if I may…”

“No, you may not, Tamir. Be silent.” Darin glanced back anxiously but his face was turned back to the Steward’s scrutiny. He swallowed with difficulty and stuttered out his own version of the night’s events. Faramir listened in silence.

“Do you remember my words to you the last time we met?”

“Yes Sir, you told me to work hard and to put the past behind me and to make you proud of me, Sir.” Faramir nodded.

“It has already been decided that Tamir is to be banished to Ithilien! What would you say was an appropriate punishment for you…”

“I will accept the consequences of my actions, Sir,” he interrupted, standing tall and looking the Steward in the eye for the first time.

“As I was saying, what would be the appropriate punishment for one who stands by a comrade in time of trouble, who risks his future knowing that the consequences could be dire and who by his actions helped to return the King from certain death!” Faramir perched on the edge of the desk with his arms folded watching with a grin as enlightenment brightened the faces of the two soldiers.

“I am proud of you Darin, and while I may question the wisdom of your actions that night the results speak for themselves, though if Tamir had taken harm I could not have been so forgiving! Now I understand from your Commander that you can pen a reasonable hand and can work with figures, is that correct?”

“Yes Sir, My father made sure I had a good education even though he couldn’t afford to buy me a commission; he lost his fortune when our family’s lands in South Ithilien were abandoned to the enemy.”

“I see. I now have a problem in that I am without an Adjutant and as you seem to have a penchant for finding trouble without constant supervision, I think it wise to appoint you to the post so that I can keep an eye on you! I hope that wasn’t a snigger, Tamir!”

“No Sir.”

“What say you, Darin! Do you think we can work together?”

“I would be honoured, Sir.”

“Good, then that is settled. Tamir can instruct you in you duties and you can take up the position formally when I return from Dol Amroth.” The two younger men both saluted, identical grins brightening their faces as they took their leave.

“A moment Tamir!” The door clicked shut behind Darin.

“Are you recovered?”

“Yes, Sir. Thankfully I have a thick skull.”

“I’ve a good mind to bash it again. I will excuse your lack of judgement as a result of your concussion…you should not have gone yourself, put your health in jeopardy!”

“I tried to get word to you Sir, but the Healers kept dosing me with their potions…”

“I know. I am not angry with you, I was worried about you. I don’t have so many friends that I can afford to lose one…” The two men clasped arms briefly until Faramir broke the connection by cuffing Tamir affectionately around the ear. “Now get to work, you have a lot to teach young Darin if he is to maintain the high standards you have set.”

“Yes Sir, Thank you…I will miss you, Sir,” said the soldier before he took his leave.

“And I you,” the whispered reply followed him from the room.

~~**~~

At first light Faramir stood in attendance on a bleak area of wasteland outside the city wall. Lord Haralil’s sack covered corpse rested on the wooden platform as more faggots were placed around and over it. There were no mourners, just the Steward and the Guard Commander as witnesses and a small guard detail to keep away prying eyes. All watched in silence as Faramir touched a flame to the oil-soaked pyre, a silence that deepened as the flames consumed the earthly remains of the traitor.

“I want the ashes scattered,” he ordered. “There is to be no grave and no memorial; he forfeited the right to any such honour. I want all evidence of his presence eradicated from the city,” his expression as closed and forbidding as any had ever witnessed.

The other funeral rite of the morning was more dignified and reverent. An honour detail of the Tower Guard paid homage to a revered servant of the city. Lord Corrin’s coffin of gleaming oak was lowered into the waiting grave in a small secluded garden overlooking the river. It was a private ceremony with few to bear witness to his passing. Éowyn, Arwen and Faramir whispered their blessings and each dropped a rose onto the coffin as a silver trumpet sounded a last salute; the plaintive notes fading to silence as the grave was sealed.

~~**~~

After supper Faramir sought an audience with the King. He was pleased to find him sitting in an easy chair by the fire.

“You look better,” he exclaimed, taking the liberty of pouring two glasses of wine before taking a seat at his side. He handed the larger glass to the King and sipped at his own more modest glass.

“I understand you have had a busy day, Faramir. Tell me about it. I will go mad if they keep me cloistered in this room much longer!”

“I would council patience, Sire, if it were not for that fact that I know how difficult it is to be incapacitated. You are recovering quickly, another day or two and I am sure you will be freed from the Healer’s restrictions,” Faramir soothed, smiling at the King’s sour expression.

Faramir took pity on his friend and described his day, starting with the cremation and Lord Corrin’s funeral.

“My interview with Lady Haralil was not pleasant. I persuaded her that it would be in her interest to remove her household to her property in Belfelas as she had originally intended. She still proclaims her husbands innocence!”

“And what of the rest of her family?”

“All of Lord Haralil’s business and personal holdings have been forfeit but it would be unjust to reduce his son and daughter’s in law to poverty because of his actions. I have arranged for the family villa here in the city to be sold and the proceeds to be divided between the three of them. The widows’ will each continue to receive a pension and I believe that they have decided to return to their own families.”

“And the son, Earlic?”

“He has renounced his father’s title and has expressed a wish to remain in the city. With your permission I would like to offer him a position within your retinue, on a trial basis; he is familiar with the Archives and I think he would do well given a supportive environment. There are plenty of empty quarters within the palace until he is ready to establish his own household.” The King nodded his agreement.

“And what of the Tribunal!”

“It is finished, Sire. Lord Darlon was judged complicit in the worst of Lord Haralil’s corrupt dealings; his property and holdings are all forfeit to the city and he is banished from Gondor, to return would be to enact a sentence of death. The other Lords were adjudged guilty of lesser offences. They are to be prohibited from ever holding public office and all must pay reparations for their actions. I have also sentenced them to offering their services for three days each week to working for the poor and uneducated in the city; they all have skills and experience that they can pass on and in working for others they may seek to rehabilitate their honour. These sentences will be publicly announced tomorrow after the execution of Lord Haralil’s accomplice!” Aragorn smiled.

“Do you not approve, Sire?”

“I think your punishments very inventive, Faramir. I am glad you are on my side, you have more of your father in you than I thought!”

“Is that a compliment, Sire?” Faramir looked troubled.

“Of course it is a compliment. Though your father’s last actions as Steward were tainted by the Palantir it  does not negate the fact that for many years he was an effective and worthy Steward who ruled Gondor well through many difficult years. He was a good Steward, Faramir.”

Aragorn tried to hide a yawn behind his hand.

“I have tired you enough, Aragorn, would you like me to call your page?”

“No, thank you, Arwen will be back shortly but you go, I’m sure Éowyn will be glad of your company.”

“I will bid you goodnight then, Aragorn. Sleep well.”

~~**~~

The place of execution was outside the city wall. A wooden platform had been erected and the gallows stood starkly against the early morning shadows. A large crowd was gathered and the contingent of troops circled the platform to keep the audience at bay. On the Steward’s orders children were turned back at the city gates.

The condemned man was led forth; he staggered up the steps and two strong arms supported him until he regained his balance. He uttered no sound as the city crier read out the charges against him and confirmed his sentence. At a signal from the Steward the master-at-arms moved the prisoner forward and placed the noose around his neck and, supporting his pinioned arms, helped him up onto the stool that stood beneath the noose. With the prisoner in place the slack in the rope was taken up and the rope secured. Only then did the condemned man raise his eyes from the ground and seek out the Steward’s gaze; it was his last act of defiance as the stool was pulled away and his body jerked, his neck broken.

When the body was cut loose and death confirmed by the Warden a cart was pulled forward and the body was taken away for cremation. The strangely silent crowd parted to allow the guards to lead forward the convicted councillors. Again it was the crier who pronounced their crimes and their punishments. The crowd was more vocal in the face of the offenders’ public humiliation. It wasn’t long before someone in the crowd hurled a piece of rotten fruit and hit one of the ex-councillors on the shoulder. Aware that the mood of the crowd could quickly turn nasty, Faramir stepped forward and raised his hand for silence.

“Citizens of Gondor, today we draw a line under the difficulties and hardships caused by the actions of a handful of misguided and corrupt individuals. These men have been judged and found guilty and they will have to face the consequences of their actions for the rest of their days. They now have the opportunity to make up for their misdeeds and I would ask all our citizens to give them that opportunity.”

“This week we have lived through the nightmare of the King’s abduction. Those responsible for this heinous crime have paid for their actions and let no man or woman doubt that any action that threatens the security of the Kingdom or the life of our King will be met with the severest penalty.”

“The King has been restored to us and is recovering from his ordeal.  To celebrate our joy at his safe return, a week from today will be a public holiday, a day of feasting and thanksgiving to which all are invited.” This announcement was greeted by ringing cheers and Faramir used the distraction of the crowd as an opportunity for the guards to lead the convicted men away to safety.

~~**~~

The day of celebration was nearly over. The King and Queen had spent the day watching the festivities from a covered dais and had mingled with the crowds enjoying the free food and entertainment laid on for the occasion. Faramir and Éowyn had joined in the earlier festivities until necessity called them away.

“Is it time, Faramir?” the King asked, noticing that an escort of mounted troops had assembled near the gate.

“Yes, Sire, it is time.” Legolas urged his own mount forward leading the King and Queen’s horses. Tamir followed leading Faramir and Éowyn’s mounts. They all mounted and the procession made its way across the Pelennor to the quayside at the Harlond.

At the quayside Beregond drew an honour guard of Ithilien Rangers to attention. Grooms came forward to look after the horses as the Royal entourage dismounted. The King took the salute and inspected the Troops leaving Faramir to formally introduce Beregond to his newest Lieutenant.

“Teach him well, Beregond, he has a quick brain and a hard head. Try to keep him out of trouble!”

“I will do my best, Sir.” The two Rangers saluted their Captain-General and took their places.

Aboard the newly renamed Lady of Ithilien, in the privacy of the state-room Faramir and Éowyn said their farewells to their friends.

“Legolas, I leave you in charge of keeping the King safe, who knows what kind of bother he will get himself into while I am away!” Faramir joked.

“And who will keep you out of trouble, Faramir? Who will be your keeper?”

“I will,” said Éowyn, drawing him to her side, “for the next month I don’t intend to let him out of my sight.”

Arwen embraced each of them in turn, whispering her own blessings to them.

“Well, little brother, we have weathered some difficult storms together,” said Aragorn, holding Faramir’s face between his hands and resting their foreheads together. “Make the most of your time away and come back to us soon. Minas Tirith will not be the same without you.”

The Prince and Princess of Ithilien stood arm in arm on deck as the last rays of the sunset gilded the towers and turrets of the city with golden light. A bend in the river finally obscured their last view of the city.

“Happy, My Love?” asked Éowyn, caressing his cheek

She didn’t get a reply but was swept off her feet and carried into the privacy of their cabin, as the river bore them onwards into the future.

The End

A/N

Well, my story is at an end. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged and supported me over the last few months and have shared this journey with me.

Bless you.

Shireling. November 2004