Chapter 13 ~ Night Watch
Belecthor pointed to the wall. "Up there," he said quietly. Morwen smiled her loving thanks and started up the stairs. She could see Eradan’s silhouette against the moonlit sky and her breath caught in her throat for a moment. Ever since their talk after arriving in Minas Tirith, Belecthor had been acquainting himself better with Eradan. He had gone everyday for two weeks to meet with him without Morwen’s finding out, a feat he was rather proud of. That evening he had asked her to take a walk with him, a walk which ended where Belecthor now stood, below her on the street.
She approached Eradan slowly. The guards were placed farther apart on the wall at night, thus increasing their privacy. No doubt Belecthor had known this, and it was the reason he had waited until Eradan was on night watch. It would be like him, Morwen thought happily.
She reached Eradan’s side without his hearing her; his gaze was fastened on the plain before him. She moved up beside him, her arm rubbing gently against his.
He gave a start and turned swiftly towards her, instinctively reaching out, his left hand grasping her arm as his right reached for his sword. When he discovered who it was, he relaxed and his grip lessened, but he did not release her arm. "Good evening, my Lady," he said softly. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," she said softly, gazing, enthralled, up at him. She could feel his warmth, he was so near her, a welcome feeling on the cold winter night. Their breath formed small clouds as they spoke before being whisked away by a chill breeze.
He released her arm and turned back toward the fields of Pelennor, avoiding her gaze. "You should be with your family on a night like this," he objected, although without force.
"Do you wish me to go?" she asked.
He turned toward her, looking deeply into her beautiful eyes, his own bright with longing, but shadowed with pain and doubt. "No," he answered truthfully.
"Then I shall stay," she said, pulling her fur lined cloak more closely about her.
Their eyes held steadily, searching, as their hearts reached tentatively out. They remained so for some time, unmindful of anything save each other, until Morwen reached gently out and caressed his cold face with her warm hand. He pressed his own gauntleted hand over her small bare one, enjoying her warmth. "You are so cold," she said gently.
"One can hardly help that on these long night watches," he answered softly.
"How long must you remain here?" she questioned.
"Until midnight, my Lady."
"That is not for several hours yet!" she exclaimed.
"I will be fine," he assured her gently, pushing a loose strand of ebon silk back from her face.
She took a small step nearer, sliding her hand up his arm as she did so, leaning slightly forward. His own hand eased its way slowly along her arm until it reached her shoulder, pulling her into his arms. She entered his embrace willingly, her breathing quick and erratic as was his own.
She savored the feeling of warmth and love she found in his arms, unmindful of the fact that he was in full armor which was chilled due to the weather. Nothing could dampen her spirit now.
She wrapped her own arms tightly about his neck. The raised flange of his steel collar cut into her arms, but she did not care. She lifted her face and their lips brushed lightly.
Morwen felt her heart skip a beat and her breath caught once more in her throat. She could feel Eradan’s muscles tense around her, pulling her ever closer to him.
~*~*~*~
Belecthor watched silently from his place at the top of the stairs. Had he caught his sister in that position without having sent her there himself, fists would have been flying at that moment. There was nothing he treasured more than his family. For the most part, his mother was his father’s responsibility, but he had the care of his sisters.
He watched in happy, heart-rending agony as Eradan claimed completely and forever the heart of Belecthor’s youngest sister. He was losing her. He had lost her. She was no longer only his own; he must now share not only Hirilian, but also Morwen, with another man. So far, he had no regrets. As long as both were happy, he could not wish to change life for them.
He smiled as Morwen pulled away from Eradan’s embrace, her hands gently caressing his face. Belecthor hated to intrude on their privacy, but he knew his father would have wanted it no other way. And he could also act as a sentry, he decided.
He sighed. It would be hard, giving her away, after clinging so tightly to her. The memory of their long talk, right before Eradan entered their lives, came back to him and he smiled wryly. The Powers certainly had a sense of humor. Now he needed wait only to find a place to dock, since Morwen had found someone to harbor at her side. He was content to wait.
He turned suddenly as the sound of approaching feet caught his ear. He whistled softly, a bird call that had been their secret code all through childhood. Morwen would understand.
~*~*~*~
Morwen smiled happily up at Eradan. The lingering shadow of doubt had swiftly left his eyes, the pain soon following, and she could see the longing slowly being satisfied. She knew only one thing. At last, Eradan was hers and nothing could ruin the moment.
A low whistle cut through her thoughts like a cold blade. It was Belecthor! What did he want? She recognized the bird call with a start. Eradan felt her jerk and looked quickly down at her.
"What is it?" he asked softly.
Morwen pulled quickly out of his embrace, taking a few steps away from him and turning to face the field. His hands fell to his sides and, feeling his sudden pain at having done something wrong, she spoke softly. "Do not fear, my love," she said, striving to sound casual, "you have done nothing to upset me. It is simply that Belecthor has warned me that someone is near."
As she spoke, Belecthor stepped between them, pushing Morwen a few feet farther down the wall. "Move over," he whispered. "I do not know who it was, but it does not really matter. I will have no ill rumors about you being spread throughout the city. Come now, move down more, I am still pressed up against Eradan and I must have more room."
They could all hear the sound of someone leading a horse as he passed just behind and a little below them on the street. Belecthor held his breath, listening for anything out of place, but the peasant passed without incident and he exhaled loudly. "Better," he said softly, "but I believe it is time we were leaving, dear sister."
Morwen sighed. "Just a little longer?"
"I am afraid not. I told father we would not remain out overlong. Of course, Mother has probably guessed where we are by now. Whether or not she has told Father, I do not know."
Morwen pushed him out of the way and embraced Eradan once more. "Good night," she whispered softly.
"Farewell, my Lady."
~*~*~*~
This chapter took a long time in the writing. I’ve been working on it ever since I began this story, and I struggled over it for a long time before getting it right. I hope you enjoyed it, despite the horrid ended.