Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ Among Our Own ( Chapter 16 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Queen-of-Blades138 
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 06.21.2008 | Updated On: 12.18.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 263 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 06.21.2008 | Updated On: 12.18.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.1K | Visits: 263 | Status: Work In Progress
chapter 16 - among our own
Augra felt it as soon as she entered Lady Eowyn's chambers; that stink
of dark magic. She was here as midwife, not seer, and could not let that
miasma of evil distract her from the task at hand. Eowyn was very pale,
and the blood loss evident on the ruined clothing and bedding was proof
of a dire situation.
She lay sweating and panting weakly on the bed, strands of her blond hair
plastered to her head. A palace serving woman was applying cold cloths
to her forehead and wrists. Her hips had been elevated in an attempt to
staunch the blood flow.
Augra curtsied."I am a healer, sent by the King, my Lady. I have your
husband's permission to tend to you."
The distressed Eowyn grasped Augra's hand. "I thank you," she gasped,"but
I might be beyond any help. I have had a vision of evil, and it cannot
bode well that I began to bleed so soon after." Augra patted her hand. "Let
me examine you, my Lady. I have seen hundreds of women in this travail, and
the result is usually good for both mother and babe."
Augra gently removed the sheets covering Eowyn's abdomen. She kept her
face neutral so as not to alarm the suffering princess. Clearly defined
on the pale skin of her lower belly was a livid purple bruise in the
outline of a hand. It was so clear, it seemed burned or tattooed onto her,
right above her womb. The healer palpated her abdomen. The baby was in the
wrong position for birth. It would have to be turned before it could be
born, or both would probably die. Not an uncommon circumstance; Augra
could change the baby's position in utero. She had done it many times
before. But it would involve significant manipulation of the woman's womb,
and with the recent bleeding, it would be particularly painful. The stress alone
might weaken her enough to kill her. And Augra needed no skills in witchcraft
to know that ominous mark was injurious to the Lady of Minas Ithil.
Augra made her decision quickly. She covered Eowyn, and turned to one of
the many handmaids waiting to make themselves useful. "Where is Lord
Faramir?"
"In the adjacent chamber, Lady Augra, with the King."
She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the trial ahead.
"I must consult with them both. I will prepare a sleeping draught for
the Lady. See that she drinks ALL of it. She must be asleep for what must
be done next."
Augra washed her hands, and pulled down the sleeves of her dress. She then
splashed a little cold water on her face. She needed to be clear and sharp
for what lay ahead. Not just the tricky surgery she intended; but the
malice in the air and the unwelcome knowledge she had just acquired. Pain
always weakens the barriers of the mind, and poor Eowyn's agony had
allowed memories to rush from her like blood from her wound. What she had
seen could be interpreted several ways, but the strength of the vision
seemed undeniable.
What did Aragorn, the Harad, and Theodred Castimir have in common that
wove their images so closely in Eowyn's mind?
--------------------------------------------
Eowyn thrashed in the throes of her delirium. The pain was very bad, but
she had borne as much before. Her previous two pregnancies had culminated
in long and exhausting labor, but she had not experienced this hemorraging
before.
Had she dreamed him, the dark man? If so, why? She had never seen him
before. She had looked in the mirror while putting the finishing touches
to her costume, and he was there behind her. Smiling. If not for the fact
that a strange man was in her rooms at all, the occurance would not have
been particularly alarming. He had a courtly presence and seemed not
unkind.
"My Lady," he said, bowing over her hand that somehow found it's way to
his. He pressed it to his lips. He was tall and arrogantly handsome;
quite exotic in foreign robes of midnight blue and gold. His broad smile
was brilliant, his eyes downcast as he bowed to her.
"Sir, these are the rooms of the Lord Faramir of Minas Ithil. You are in
our personal chambers."
And then Eowyn saw his eyes. Panicked, she rose hurriedly from her chair,
awkward with the weight of her pregnancy, and backed to the nearest wall,
her eyes wide, her voice lost.
His eyes were black from lid to lid. His smiled changed from that of
flattering courtier to the grin of the hunting wolf.
"I am sorry to inconvenience you my Lady, but I need to send a message to
your King." He closed the distance between them, until he stood but inches
from her. She was frozen, and could neither scream nor run. He extended
his hand and lay it on her lower belly. The touch was rather light, but
intimate, as if he were her lover or husband and wanted to share the
experience of the new life within her. He put his lips to her ear.
"Does Aragorn know that he has a son?"
"Who are you?" she asked in a whisper.
He withdrew his hand, and stepped backwards. He seemed to grow much
smaller, as if he retreated a quarter mile with each step, but was still somehow
in her dressing chamber. A faint voice replied,"One who knows your secret".
And he was gone.
She rubbed the spot on her abdomen that he had touched. She had overturned
her vanity chair in her flight from the phantom stranger. Eowyn took a few
tentative steps into the room. All seemed so normal that she began to
question if he indeed had been here at all. She bent to pick up the small
chair - and the world swam away from her as she fell to the floor,
unconscious.
Augra felt it as soon as she entered Lady Eowyn's chambers; that stink
of dark magic. She was here as midwife, not seer, and could not let that
miasma of evil distract her from the task at hand. Eowyn was very pale,
and the blood loss evident on the ruined clothing and bedding was proof
of a dire situation.
She lay sweating and panting weakly on the bed, strands of her blond hair
plastered to her head. A palace serving woman was applying cold cloths
to her forehead and wrists. Her hips had been elevated in an attempt to
staunch the blood flow.
Augra curtsied."I am a healer, sent by the King, my Lady. I have your
husband's permission to tend to you."
The distressed Eowyn grasped Augra's hand. "I thank you," she gasped,"but
I might be beyond any help. I have had a vision of evil, and it cannot
bode well that I began to bleed so soon after." Augra patted her hand. "Let
me examine you, my Lady. I have seen hundreds of women in this travail, and
the result is usually good for both mother and babe."
Augra gently removed the sheets covering Eowyn's abdomen. She kept her
face neutral so as not to alarm the suffering princess. Clearly defined
on the pale skin of her lower belly was a livid purple bruise in the
outline of a hand. It was so clear, it seemed burned or tattooed onto her,
right above her womb. The healer palpated her abdomen. The baby was in the
wrong position for birth. It would have to be turned before it could be
born, or both would probably die. Not an uncommon circumstance; Augra
could change the baby's position in utero. She had done it many times
before. But it would involve significant manipulation of the woman's womb,
and with the recent bleeding, it would be particularly painful. The stress alone
might weaken her enough to kill her. And Augra needed no skills in witchcraft
to know that ominous mark was injurious to the Lady of Minas Ithil.
Augra made her decision quickly. She covered Eowyn, and turned to one of
the many handmaids waiting to make themselves useful. "Where is Lord
Faramir?"
"In the adjacent chamber, Lady Augra, with the King."
She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the trial ahead.
"I must consult with them both. I will prepare a sleeping draught for
the Lady. See that she drinks ALL of it. She must be asleep for what must
be done next."
Augra washed her hands, and pulled down the sleeves of her dress. She then
splashed a little cold water on her face. She needed to be clear and sharp
for what lay ahead. Not just the tricky surgery she intended; but the
malice in the air and the unwelcome knowledge she had just acquired. Pain
always weakens the barriers of the mind, and poor Eowyn's agony had
allowed memories to rush from her like blood from her wound. What she had
seen could be interpreted several ways, but the strength of the vision
seemed undeniable.
What did Aragorn, the Harad, and Theodred Castimir have in common that
wove their images so closely in Eowyn's mind?
--------------------------------------------
Eowyn thrashed in the throes of her delirium. The pain was very bad, but
she had borne as much before. Her previous two pregnancies had culminated
in long and exhausting labor, but she had not experienced this hemorraging
before.
Had she dreamed him, the dark man? If so, why? She had never seen him
before. She had looked in the mirror while putting the finishing touches
to her costume, and he was there behind her. Smiling. If not for the fact
that a strange man was in her rooms at all, the occurance would not have
been particularly alarming. He had a courtly presence and seemed not
unkind.
"My Lady," he said, bowing over her hand that somehow found it's way to
his. He pressed it to his lips. He was tall and arrogantly handsome;
quite exotic in foreign robes of midnight blue and gold. His broad smile
was brilliant, his eyes downcast as he bowed to her.
"Sir, these are the rooms of the Lord Faramir of Minas Ithil. You are in
our personal chambers."
And then Eowyn saw his eyes. Panicked, she rose hurriedly from her chair,
awkward with the weight of her pregnancy, and backed to the nearest wall,
her eyes wide, her voice lost.
His eyes were black from lid to lid. His smiled changed from that of
flattering courtier to the grin of the hunting wolf.
"I am sorry to inconvenience you my Lady, but I need to send a message to
your King." He closed the distance between them, until he stood but inches
from her. She was frozen, and could neither scream nor run. He extended
his hand and lay it on her lower belly. The touch was rather light, but
intimate, as if he were her lover or husband and wanted to share the
experience of the new life within her. He put his lips to her ear.
"Does Aragorn know that he has a son?"
"Who are you?" she asked in a whisper.
He withdrew his hand, and stepped backwards. He seemed to grow much
smaller, as if he retreated a quarter mile with each step, but was still somehow
in her dressing chamber. A faint voice replied,"One who knows your secret".
And he was gone.
She rubbed the spot on her abdomen that he had touched. She had overturned
her vanity chair in her flight from the phantom stranger. Eowyn took a few
tentative steps into the room. All seemed so normal that she began to
question if he indeed had been here at all. She bent to pick up the small
chair - and the world swam away from her as she fell to the floor,
unconscious.