Chapter 10 - Untangling

The King sighed, deeply troubled, but he forced his face to remain neutral as the young woman entered. He had dreaded this audience, but Aragorn had learned nothing in his life if not to face fear full on.

The Lady Eowyn walked slowly towards him and curtsied. He signalled for her to rise and take a seat. He regarded her for a long moment. Her hair was not brushed, her face streaked with tears and her eyes red-rimmed, but still she held herself with great dignity and control.

“Are the children cared for, my lady?” he asked.

For the first time she looked up, and their eyes met. He could see the desperation so very close to the surface, but he could also see the iron will that held it so firmly in check. She was indeed still the courageous shieldmaiden, he remembered.

She nodded. Her voice was calm with no trace of emotion as she said, “I have left them in the outer chambers with Pippin and Merry. They enjoy each other’s company very much.”

Aragorn nodded. “Can we get you anything?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I am fine.” But the sudden quiver in her voice betrayed that she was anything but.

He waited for a few seconds as she found her composure once more.

“I wish to discuss the events of yesterday with you if you feel able to do so. There is much that I do not understand.”

She nodded again, bit her lip and looked away.

“My lady, we are all friends here as you know. We have spoken long of yesterday’s events, and I have learned much, but there is still more I have to know before I can make a decision on how to proceed.”

She was looking down now her shoulders shaking slightly. Aragorn reached forward to her and taking her hands he pulled her close to him.

“Let it out, my lady,” he whispered in her ear. “There is no shame in tears when they come from the heart.”

She sniffed and pulled away from him. “Thank you, my lord,” she responded, but her voice was stronger now. “But tears will not help me or mine now.”

“Indeed, but they may ease your broken heart, my lady.”

Her eyes lifted to his and implored him. “Please, my lord, let us not dwell on my heart, for I fear I will be overcome. Let us talk of what we can do and what must be.”

He nodded understanding her need to focus on practicalities. It was the only way he could see a way through this horrifically tangled web that stretched out before him.

He cleared his throat wondering were to begin. “I need you to tell me what happened over the winter, for even before the incident yesterday, we had all perceived a change in Faramir.”

And so Eowyn told them all that had happened over the winter months; her husband’s disappearance, the change in his behaviour, his sudden debilitating illnesses, the false explanations of the treaty with the Harad (at which she felt her colour rise) and lastly his inability to function the previous morning.

They sat and listened. Gimli on the chair nearest the fire would grunt at intervals. Eomer, her brother, at the other side of the table would shake his head and avoid her eyes and Legolas who moved to sit beside her, resting a comforting hand chastely on her shoulder and enveloping her in the wide safety of his unblinking gaze. Next to the King, Arwen sat her face unreadable as she listened intently.

“I think he was trying to tell me yesterday morning.” Eowyn finished. “And yet I would not listen. I was too full and proud about his part in the ceremony. I told him it was his duty to go, but now I remember the look in his eye....”

She stopped shaking her head.

“Lady Eowyn,” said the Queen. “Whatever the reasons and explanations for this, I can assure you that the fault is not yours. You did only what you thought was right.”

“If he was trying to tell you something, I do not believe he fully understood its import himself, for if he had he would not have been swayed by your words, Eowyn,” Legolas said.

“Indeed not,” agreed the King.

He stood up and moved to the window. It was only then that Eowyn noted his arm in the sling.

She gasped. “Sire, I am so sorry. I sit here drowning in my own self pity and forget who truly suffered yesterday. What must you think of me? How is your wound?”

Aragorn smiled sadly. “I will mend soon enough. It is the wound to my Kingdom which we must seek to heal now.”

He looked out of the window. “I remember the look on Faramir’s face,” he mused. “I looked into his eyes, and it was not my Steward who looked back at me.”

“What do you mean?” said Eowyn.

The King turned back to her. “Both my wife and Legolas have sensed a malevolent presence in the City for the last few days. Two nights ago Legolas saw your husband walking with a hooded man in the gardens.”

“Faramir’s demeanour was very strange,” Legolas said. “And there was an evil scent on the air.”

“Think you that Faramir is involved in some kind of plot?” Eowyn asked, her eyes shining brightly now.

“There is more,” the King continued, “that your story has now confirmed. I remember well the day Faramir left Minas Tirith last winter. He was civil and patient with me, but I knew he longed to be away. He felt guilty that he had overstayed here and that his duty to me had forced him to break a promise he made to you, Eowyn. I did not want him to leave, although I perceived his urgency because there was the smell of snow in the air. Still he would not be swayed and left that very afternoon. Within three hours of him leaving, the first snow storm of the winter turned the Pelennor Fields white, and I felt a strange worry that my much-loved Steward would come to harm.”

Eowyn stared at him. “I remember that storm, too,” she said. “It was a whole two weeks before Faramir came home. Where was he?”

The King sat down again. “He would not say?”

Eowyn shook her head. “Beregond and I asked and asked, for we knew he had been out alone in the woods for longer than he said. He would not answer. He became distressed and angry, frustrated even when we asked, and so because we had him home and safe, we stopped asking him. Looking back on it now, I do not think Faramir knew where he had been.”

“But still,” mused the King, “it appears that the answer is the key to solving this riddle. I wonder if he would be able to tell me.”

“There is more, Sire,” Eomer’s voice boomed out. “This morning before I came here, I stopped at the prison.”

“Did you see him?” Eowyn asked, her heart leaping.

“No, I did not, for when I got there I did not trust myself,” Eomer confessed as he flexed his hands. His eyes looked away guiltily from his sister’s entreating stare. “But I checked with the Captain there that everything fared well. The Captain told me there is another in the prison connected to the Lord Steward.”

The King sat forward with interest.

“A man was arrested yesterday trying to pawn Faramir’s sword. He had earlier sold a cloak of Faramir’s to the same pawn broker.”

“Faramir lost both his cloak and his sword in the woods,” Eowyn gasped.

Aragorn stood up. “I think the answers we seek will be found in the prison. I will go and talk with this man.”

“My Lord,” Eowyn began.

He moved to her and took both her hands in his. “I know what you would ask, my lady, and it breaks my heart to refuse. But I say to you wait just a short time, and I will return your husband to you, for I know that such a reunion should not take place in the city goal.”

Arwen moved forward too. “Come, my sister,” she said softly. “Let us play the dutiful mothers and watch over our children while the men save the day.”

Eowyn opened her mouth to argue but a sudden vision of her husband pale and defeated in a prison cell stopped her. She suddenly felt very tired and welcomed the supporting arms of the Queen.

She nodded. “Give him my love, Sire,” was all she could say.

The King smiled reassuringly at her. “Of course,” he replied.