The Household

The White Tower, 14 April 3019 T.A. 

 

Húrin and Meldis were again conferring.  This time, Erien the head cook joined them. 

“Is it true that there will be a king?” Erien asked.  Hearing her tone, one might think she was asking whether an exotic creature would take residence in the Citadel. 

Húrin nodded. “Lord Faramir has instructed me to prepare the crowning.” 

“He has asked me to prepare the King’s House,” Meldis said, “and to ready Mardil House for him.” 

“Mardil House!  Did the King ask Lord Faramir to leave his residence?” Erien exclaimed. “How could you and your Council allow that, Lord Húrin?” 

“What will happen to Lord Faramir when the King returns?”  Meldis added, before Húrin could answer.  “Will we have no Steward anymore?” 

“Gondor without the Steward?  Who has ever heard of such a thing?” Erien huffed. 

Húrin raised his hands.  “If you would give me a chance to speak, my good dames.  When the King comes, he may choose to abolish the office of the steward.  But Mistress Erien is right—even in the days of old, the kings had stewards. 

“As to the Steward’s residence, it is news to me that Lord Faramir intends to vacate it.  But I can imagine that Lord Faramir may think it unseemly to remain in the heart of the Citadel, once the King returns.” 

For many hundreds of years, the Stewards and their family had made their residence in the Tower of Ecthelion.  They occupied the levels above the council chamber, which was itself above the Hall of the Throne.   

The King’s House they had left empty, for they would not have anyone accused them of making themselves king.  And having the Lord of the City reside in the Citadel, rather than at their stately house on the Sixth Circle, made things easier for the Guards of the Citadel and the courtiers. 

“You have met the King, Lord Húrin, have you not?  Does he treat Lord Faramir well?  Poor boy, he has gone through so much, I would not see him suffer any more loss.”  Meldis looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment. 

“And seemly or unseemly, it is his house, where he has lived all his life,” added Erien. “Well, he lived in Mardil House when he was a babe, but that hardly counts.” 

“The King is a wise man,” said Húrin.  “And Lord Faramir has not said he is leaving his house, he simply asked Mistress Meldis to prepare his other house, for whatever purpose he may have in mind.” 

“Mardil House is a happy house, at least,” Meldis said, trying to console herself.  “Do you remember how happy our lord and lady were when they lived there, Erien?  Before the lord became the Steward.” 

Erien smiled wistfully.  “Those were their golden years.  Poor Lord Denethor.” 

“The Lord Steward also told me to form a household for the King,” added Meldis.  “He said tomorrow he would speak to us; I mean his household.  He encouraged us to serve the King, said that it would be a great honour.” 

Erien snorted. “As if! And let new, clueless servants take care of our lord? What is so good about this king?  Why does Lord Faramir have to do all this?” 

Húrin made a polite noise. “Be more careful, dear Cook, the King is our lord now, or will be soon.  And are you suggesting we let new, clueless servants serve the King instead?” 

“He will not know they are new,” said Erien. “Well, what I mean is that Lord Faramir needs familiar people with him.  He has lost all his family.” 

Meldis and Erien wiped their eyes.  They both had entered service as young girls near the end of Steward Ecthelion’s rule, and had cared for Boromir and Faramir from their birth. 

“He will soon start a family of his own,” Húrin said.  “Has it not occurred to you that he might prefer to have a fresh beginning with his lady at Mardil House?  As Mistress Meldis said, it is a happy house.  It is customary for the Heir of the Steward to begin their wedded life there.” 

He had clearly said the right thing, for the two matrons of the Steward’s household brightened up considerably. 

“O, how they kissed!” Erien placed her hands over her heart.  “Did you see it, Meldis?” 

“After listening to Ioreth for the third time, I feel as if I did.  Who would have thought our Lord Faramir could be so bold?” 

Húrin raised his eyebrows.  “Are you surprised? He is bold in battle.  There is no reason why he should be any different in courting.” 

“I will stay with Lord Faramir,” Erien said.  “That stuck-up Sador can be the King’s head cook.  He likes cooking for grand feasts and thinks my dishes are too homely.” 

Meldis laughed.  “Sador would be more than eager to move to the King’s House, or ‘move up’, he would say.”   

Húrin concluded their discussion.  “Let me know if you need help finding servants for the King’s House, Meldis.  The crowning is set for the first of May, we must move swiftly.” 

He drained his cup and rose.  “Good evening, Mistress Meldis, Mistress Erien.  I will see you tomorrow.  Lord Faramir has invited me to dine with him and Lady Éowyn.”  

With that they parted ways, each returning to their duties, caring for their lord in their own way. 

...