Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ Eowyn's salvation/Arwen's torment ( Chapter 18 )
[ 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: 07.03.2008 | Updated On: 12.18.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 283 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.03.2008 | Updated On: 12.18.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 283 | Status: Work In Progress
chapter 18 - Eowyn's salvation/Arwen's torment
It was close to dawn when an exhausted but relieved Faramir arrived at
his sons' rooms. Expecting them to be in bed and asleep, he quietly opened
the door.
Eradan and Thorondir were indeed asleep, but on the floor next to a gently
snoring Gimli. There were toy soldiers and orcs, tiny wooden horses,
miniature oliphaunts, and a great quantity of empty plates scattered about.
Apparently, after the battle, the victors celebrated with a mighty feast.
Theodred Castimir had been dozing in a chair, cradling a small furry
bundle. The puff of fur uncurled, and blinked at him. The small puppy
seemed angry at being surprised by the newcomer, and leapt off the chair,
yapping and scrambling around Faramir's feet.
Most of the sleepers awoke slowly, the puppy ruining the tranquility of
their slumber. And the carpeting.
Seeing Faramir, Theodred bolted upright.
"Is mother alright?!" he asked, his young face drawn with concern.
Faramir smiled wearily. "She is well, and so is your sister."
"Sister?!" all the boys and Gimli said in unison. Faramir turned his
attention to the dwarf. "Aragorn said you had come. As I hope you
understand, my wife's health distracted me from all else. I thank you
for entertaining my sons during my absence."
Gimli stretched and yawned.
"These little rogues were driving the women crazy! They are boys...they
don't want mollycoddling - they want to roughhouse! Luckily, to keep them
occupied, I was able to guide them through a recreation of the battle at
Helm's Deep..."
"Where Uncle Eomer came to the rescue of Great Uncle Theoden, King!!" the
two younger boys chimed in.
"Can we see her, father? I was so worried..." Theodred Castimir could not
join in the levity yet; the stress of the last few hours would not be
dismissed so quickly.
Faramir held out his arms, and Theodred ran to him, followed quickly by
his younger siblings. "Your mother is still weak, and will need to rest
a bit first. Get some sleep. This afternoon, she should be strong enough
to give you all a kiss. But do you want to see your sister? I warn
you though," he said with a broader smile, "she looks like a pink prune
now."
"Uh, a girl...they're no fun!" said Eradan.
"This one might surprise you. Remember, your mother was a girl once. And
she killed the Witch King of Angmar!"
"Well, if she can do stuff like that, I guess she won't be too bad." said
Thorondir, grudgingly.
"I'd like to see her now, father." said Theodred. Faramir tousled the
boy's dark hair. "Very well. Let's take a look at your sister. And I'll
find someone to clean this room. And by the way, who's the other
new addition to the family?"
"He's ours...Gimli gave him to us! His name is Tobias. His mother is
one of the guard dogs at the stables. Can we keep him?"
Faramir feigned deep thought over the matter until the chorus of pleas
reached a crescendo. "Very well...but we'll have to tell your mother in
a few days when she's better!"
-----------------------------------------------------------
Aragorn trod wearily up the stairs to the royal chambers. It had been two
days since he'd had any real sleep. Though he did not remember his actions
of the previous night, the depth of his exhaustion told him that sufficient
sleep had not been part of the night's schedule.
Old Wenrick blinked at him as he approached, cleared his throat and gave
his liege a shaky salute. This was an honorary post for the old soldier,
and Aragorn never really expected him to stay awake during his entire
watch. He usually spread himself across the door, however, so that
an intruder would have to kill the old man to gain access. Not expecting
such rude company, his skills were adequate to act as valet, doorman, and
occasionally, messenger. Provided the message was not time sensitive.
"All's well, my Lord. How is the Lady Eowyn?" he asked.
He clapped the guardsman on the shoulder. "She is well, thanks to some
remarkable skills by that woman Augra. Should any need healing that seem
beyond the capabilities of most, she is the one to call upon. Have you seen
the Lady Arwen? Has she had any visitors?"
"No and no, my Lord. All has been quiet."
Aragorn sighed. "That is good. I am worn and would sleep away the morning.
Admit no one till noon, or until my Lady is up and about."
With a crisper salute (now that he was fully awake), Wenrick resumed his
post.
Aragorn entered the sitting room quietly, so as not to wake Arwen, who should
still be slumbering if Augra's potion worked as she predicted. She was,
although not as peacefully as he would wish. She had kicked her coverings to
the floor during her sleep, and tendrils of her black hair clung to her
forehead and neck, damp with perspiration. Her face wore an expression of
exhaustion and sorrow, even in slumber. Aragorn knelt by her side,
contemplating her countenance.
As he did so, he noticed a shining thread on the dark blue and silver carpeting.
It was a single, pale blond hair. Aragorn could have brought it into his chambers
unwittingly, on his hands or clothing. Eowyn had long, blond hair. He examined the
hair more closely. Eowyn's hair was more golden, and possessed a waving pattern.
This was longer, utterly devoid of curl and almost silvery. He could think of no one
on the serving staff with long, white-blond, completely straight hair.
He held the mystery strand in one hand, kneeling, thinking. Arwen muttered in
her sleep. Hastily, he tucked the strand away.
'After some rest, I will ponder this again,' he thought.
He removed his clothing, and prepared to go to bed next to his wife, clad
only in a pair of loose, thin trousers. Aragorn lay next to Arwen, and draped
one arm around her waist, nuzzling the back of her neck. He always loved the
smell of her, a fresh scent that reminded him of flowing water and newly cut
grass.
As the weight of his arm touched her side she began to tremble, and move her
arms as if fending off a foe. Suddenly she cried,"No, NO, stay away from
me, don't hurt me...!" Her eyes flew open and she screamed,"Stop!! Stay away!
o, gods, HELP ME...!"
Arwen leapt from the bed and backed into a corner of the room. Her eyes were
wild, and she breathed in ragged, gasping sobs.
Astounded and dismayed, Aragorn, too, left the bed and approached her with
arms outstretched. "Beloved, what is it? What is distressing you so?"
She raised her arms as if to sheild herself from a blow.
"Arwen, it is me! Aragorn! Your husband..." as he closed the distance between
them, she ran like a hunted thing to another corner of the room, away from
him.
"Am I awake or asleep? Are you...HE?"
Aragorn moved quickly to seize her. She beat against him desperately, and
scratched his arms, trying to free herself. In a few moments, weary, she seemed
to come to her senses. She flung her arms around his neck, crying piteously.
"Oh, my love, I am losing my reason! Please forgive me!" she sobbed against
his chest.
Aragorn valiantly but miserably clung to her, let her terror spend itself
against him, and held her as her hysteria ended.
'By all that is holy, what evil is plaguing my wife?'
_____________________________________________________________________
It was close to dawn when an exhausted but relieved Faramir arrived at
his sons' rooms. Expecting them to be in bed and asleep, he quietly opened
the door.
Eradan and Thorondir were indeed asleep, but on the floor next to a gently
snoring Gimli. There were toy soldiers and orcs, tiny wooden horses,
miniature oliphaunts, and a great quantity of empty plates scattered about.
Apparently, after the battle, the victors celebrated with a mighty feast.
Theodred Castimir had been dozing in a chair, cradling a small furry
bundle. The puff of fur uncurled, and blinked at him. The small puppy
seemed angry at being surprised by the newcomer, and leapt off the chair,
yapping and scrambling around Faramir's feet.
Most of the sleepers awoke slowly, the puppy ruining the tranquility of
their slumber. And the carpeting.
Seeing Faramir, Theodred bolted upright.
"Is mother alright?!" he asked, his young face drawn with concern.
Faramir smiled wearily. "She is well, and so is your sister."
"Sister?!" all the boys and Gimli said in unison. Faramir turned his
attention to the dwarf. "Aragorn said you had come. As I hope you
understand, my wife's health distracted me from all else. I thank you
for entertaining my sons during my absence."
Gimli stretched and yawned.
"These little rogues were driving the women crazy! They are boys...they
don't want mollycoddling - they want to roughhouse! Luckily, to keep them
occupied, I was able to guide them through a recreation of the battle at
Helm's Deep..."
"Where Uncle Eomer came to the rescue of Great Uncle Theoden, King!!" the
two younger boys chimed in.
"Can we see her, father? I was so worried..." Theodred Castimir could not
join in the levity yet; the stress of the last few hours would not be
dismissed so quickly.
Faramir held out his arms, and Theodred ran to him, followed quickly by
his younger siblings. "Your mother is still weak, and will need to rest
a bit first. Get some sleep. This afternoon, she should be strong enough
to give you all a kiss. But do you want to see your sister? I warn
you though," he said with a broader smile, "she looks like a pink prune
now."
"Uh, a girl...they're no fun!" said Eradan.
"This one might surprise you. Remember, your mother was a girl once. And
she killed the Witch King of Angmar!"
"Well, if she can do stuff like that, I guess she won't be too bad." said
Thorondir, grudgingly.
"I'd like to see her now, father." said Theodred. Faramir tousled the
boy's dark hair. "Very well. Let's take a look at your sister. And I'll
find someone to clean this room. And by the way, who's the other
new addition to the family?"
"He's ours...Gimli gave him to us! His name is Tobias. His mother is
one of the guard dogs at the stables. Can we keep him?"
Faramir feigned deep thought over the matter until the chorus of pleas
reached a crescendo. "Very well...but we'll have to tell your mother in
a few days when she's better!"
-----------------------------------------------------------
Aragorn trod wearily up the stairs to the royal chambers. It had been two
days since he'd had any real sleep. Though he did not remember his actions
of the previous night, the depth of his exhaustion told him that sufficient
sleep had not been part of the night's schedule.
Old Wenrick blinked at him as he approached, cleared his throat and gave
his liege a shaky salute. This was an honorary post for the old soldier,
and Aragorn never really expected him to stay awake during his entire
watch. He usually spread himself across the door, however, so that
an intruder would have to kill the old man to gain access. Not expecting
such rude company, his skills were adequate to act as valet, doorman, and
occasionally, messenger. Provided the message was not time sensitive.
"All's well, my Lord. How is the Lady Eowyn?" he asked.
He clapped the guardsman on the shoulder. "She is well, thanks to some
remarkable skills by that woman Augra. Should any need healing that seem
beyond the capabilities of most, she is the one to call upon. Have you seen
the Lady Arwen? Has she had any visitors?"
"No and no, my Lord. All has been quiet."
Aragorn sighed. "That is good. I am worn and would sleep away the morning.
Admit no one till noon, or until my Lady is up and about."
With a crisper salute (now that he was fully awake), Wenrick resumed his
post.
Aragorn entered the sitting room quietly, so as not to wake Arwen, who should
still be slumbering if Augra's potion worked as she predicted. She was,
although not as peacefully as he would wish. She had kicked her coverings to
the floor during her sleep, and tendrils of her black hair clung to her
forehead and neck, damp with perspiration. Her face wore an expression of
exhaustion and sorrow, even in slumber. Aragorn knelt by her side,
contemplating her countenance.
As he did so, he noticed a shining thread on the dark blue and silver carpeting.
It was a single, pale blond hair. Aragorn could have brought it into his chambers
unwittingly, on his hands or clothing. Eowyn had long, blond hair. He examined the
hair more closely. Eowyn's hair was more golden, and possessed a waving pattern.
This was longer, utterly devoid of curl and almost silvery. He could think of no one
on the serving staff with long, white-blond, completely straight hair.
He held the mystery strand in one hand, kneeling, thinking. Arwen muttered in
her sleep. Hastily, he tucked the strand away.
'After some rest, I will ponder this again,' he thought.
He removed his clothing, and prepared to go to bed next to his wife, clad
only in a pair of loose, thin trousers. Aragorn lay next to Arwen, and draped
one arm around her waist, nuzzling the back of her neck. He always loved the
smell of her, a fresh scent that reminded him of flowing water and newly cut
grass.
As the weight of his arm touched her side she began to tremble, and move her
arms as if fending off a foe. Suddenly she cried,"No, NO, stay away from
me, don't hurt me...!" Her eyes flew open and she screamed,"Stop!! Stay away!
o, gods, HELP ME...!"
Arwen leapt from the bed and backed into a corner of the room. Her eyes were
wild, and she breathed in ragged, gasping sobs.
Astounded and dismayed, Aragorn, too, left the bed and approached her with
arms outstretched. "Beloved, what is it? What is distressing you so?"
She raised her arms as if to sheild herself from a blow.
"Arwen, it is me! Aragorn! Your husband..." as he closed the distance between
them, she ran like a hunted thing to another corner of the room, away from
him.
"Am I awake or asleep? Are you...HE?"
Aragorn moved quickly to seize her. She beat against him desperately, and
scratched his arms, trying to free herself. In a few moments, weary, she seemed
to come to her senses. She flung her arms around his neck, crying piteously.
"Oh, my love, I am losing my reason! Please forgive me!" she sobbed against
his chest.
Aragorn valiantly but miserably clung to her, let her terror spend itself
against him, and held her as her hysteria ended.
'By all that is holy, what evil is plaguing my wife?'
_____________________________________________________________________