Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ A Secret Revealed ( Chapter 20 )
[ 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: 07.10.2008 | Updated On: 12.14.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 351 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.10.2008 | Updated On: 12.14.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 351 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter 20 - a secret revealed
Eowyn's suffering had left her exhausted, but it always amazed her how quickly the
travail of childbirth could be so soon forgotten when she viewed her new babe.
It was barely twenty hours since she had gone into labor prematurely, and that
strange but gifted healer had saved both their lives. She had been given a potion
for pain, which she expected to be considerable once the medicine wore off. The
procedure had been explained to her after she regained conciousness. Eowyn scarcely
believed it.
Her handmaids had tended to her as soon as she awoke. She had been bathed
and her hair brushed to a golden sheen. Eowyn now wore a gown of pale pink, the
slight color adding a rosy tint to her complexion. Although pale from the pain
and blood loss, she radiated an almost ethereal beauty. Faramir kissed her lightly
on the forehead, as he sat on a chair pulled close.
"Motherhood becomes you, Eowyn. You have never been more lovely."
She smiled and laughed lightly, "You say that because you love me."
Eowyn stroked his cheek with the back of her hand,
"I say that because it is true." He kissed her hand, then held it tightly. The strain
of the last few hours had left dark circles under his eyes, and a slightly gray pallor
to his complexion. "To see you and our daughter well and happy is all that I could have
hoped for, when just yesterday you seemed at death's door."
Faramir leaned forward and kissed her deeply. "I would have given all that I own
and all that I am to have you well. I am again the happiest man in all the Realm."
The new baby had suckled heartily, and was now asleep in the cradle adjacent to
Eowyn's bed.
"What will will name her, Faramir? Do you like 'Aranor'? I think that is the feminine
of Aragorn. Perhaps his mother's name? I do not know it, but let us inquire. I thought
we might honor our good lord, Aragorn. He could not have been more supportive and
hospitable if he had been my brother - or yours, my love. He has treated us like kin."
Faramir smiled indulgently. "I agree. As always, a wise and thoughtful decision. I like 'Aranor'.
I will ask Arwen his mother's name; Aragorn is likely to be too modest to allow it should we give
him warning. We will present him with the deed as done."
His countenance grew grim suddenly.
"You mentioned 'the dark man' when you first went into labor. What did you mean? Who was he?
Do you remember?"
Eowyn averted her eyes and smoothed the bedsheets over her abdomen.
"Did I? I cannot recall. It must have been some delusion brought on by my illness, my lord..."
Eowyn smiled tremulously. "I was in great distress. The mind cannot be relied upon in such
circumstances." She patted Faramir's hand reassuringly. "If I remembered what prompted me
to such utterances, I would tell you. Do not concern yourself, my husband."
He lay his hand over hers. "To compound my fears for your health, I worried than some intruder
had frightened you into labor. And the healer Augra told us about that strange mark upon you...
Well.. No matter. Tell me if you remember ought. But if not, I thank the gods and our King for
our good fortune in this matter, and that will be the end of it."
Faramir studied his wife's expressions during this exchange. He knew she did not speak truthfully,
but now was not the time to press the issue. She was still weak. However, he would be vigilant, and
obtain additional details from the woman Augra.
Something was amiss.
Eowyn steered the conversation to more homely concerns, and Faramir allowed her to think he
had put the issue aside.
Eowyn could not discuss the phantom's visit, for the dark man's disturbing question still haunted
her. Eowyn especially could not discuss the incident with her husband. The truth of this matter
would wound her beloved beyond measure, ruin the trust and friendship between themselves and
the King, and plunge two realms, Gondor and Rohan, into turmoil.
Theodred Castimir was not Faramir's child.
He was the son of Aragorn, and as of this moment, the sole claimant to the title of heir to the
throne of Gondor.
________________________________________________________________________ ____________
It had happened on the night of the battle at Helm's Deep.
Eowyn, far younger then, had been smitten by the exiled King of Gondor. Aragorn, however, had made
it plain that he loved another, but that she had gone from him.
Then he had been lost to them, carried off by one of the Wargs. the huge carnivorous beasts that
were also known as the wolves of Isengard. Eowyn grieved as if she had been widowed, and was numb
with sorrow at the thought of living without Aragorn. A blazing beacon of hope in her desolate life,
snuffed out before anything had even begun. The fact that all might die in a matter of hours was no
longer of any consequence to her.
Miraculously, Aragorn had come to the fortress; in shreds, battered from his fall and the wounds
of battle. It was a miracle he had survived - to then face almost certain death at the spear
and sword points of the tens of thousands of orcs sent to destroy all that remained of her people.
Eowyn wanted him more than she had wanted anything in her life. From the first moment her
eyes beheld him, he had filled her field of vision, her heart and her soul. If this was to be their
last night on this earth, she wanted to die with at least the memory of loving him. Although to
die the virgin shield maiden of Rohan had a brave and noble ring to it, it did not comfort the
heart, or satisfy this newly discovered ache that made all other considerations fade to
insignificance.
He was urged to rest, and have his wounds dressed; perhaps to have a hasty meal. The mood of
Rohan was grim, defeat and obliteration upon them all. Few, if any, thought they would survive
the night. Eowyn tended Aragorn's wounds, and waited upon him; her desperation spurring
her to foolish action.
She told herself, he would not LET himself care for her, as his heart was already with another.
She told herself that IF he could only be made to see her, past the blindness of his pain for that
other woman, he would realize that Eowyn yearned for him with passion enough for both of them.
Her fire would kindle an affection in him that, if they lived, would grow to be the love she sought.
All this she told herself, as she agonized over how to approach him. Time was short; if she
did not declare herself immediately, all might be ended before it had had a chance to begin.
Aragorn rested fitfully as he tried to gather his strength for the imminent battle. She had found
a small chamber for him, apart from the main hallways, to provide privacy and a measure of quiet.
She slipped into his room, and closed the door behind her. Eowyn lit no candle; she would
be braver in the dark.
"Who is there?" he asked, hoarse with exhaustion. He stood up from his cot, and Eowyn heard the
rasping of metal as if he grasped his sword. "I should be at the parapets. I am sure the forces of
Isengard will be upon us in a moment..."
Eowyn ran to him, and threw her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. "That they may
be, but I am here, now. Please hear me, Aragorn,.."
He grasped her shoulder. "Eowyn, whatever it is, it must wait. I must go. And you must see to your
people; there is no time..."
"I know there is no time! Aragorn...be with me now!"
He was silent for some few moments. "It is only these desperate hours that make you confuse
what you feel for me with love. Eowyn, you do not know me. We met scarcely five days ago..."
he spoke softly and gently, as to a child.
Eowyn continued to hold him tightly, although he had ceased grasping her shoulder and now
his arms were held away from his sides, as if he did not want even to touch her. "Five days!
I was sure in an hour that I loved you! Please do not send me away!" Her voice was edged with
hysteria. To have the love of her life so close, and not have as much of him as the time and
circumstance would allow was unbearable. She would go mad before she could be spitted upon
an orc's sword.
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He was startled. "It would shame you, and disrespect this
stronghold of your fathers to do as you ask, my lady. I have never led you to believe that
I looked upon you with desire..."
Eowyn was taken aback by this; the first taste of real rejection beginning to scald her.
"...because you know I love another! I have never taken a woman's body without giving my
heart...Eowyn, you know I do not love you." He said it casually, as if it was of little consequence.
Aragorn shrugged her off and opened the door slightly, to let in enough light for him to find his gear.
Steadfastly ignoring her, he splashed cold water on his face from a basin nearby, and belted his sword
around his waist. He turned towards the door.
"You seek to wound me, to dissuade me from my course. I stand fast!" Eowyn began to cry,
little choking sobs that digusted her, but she was unable to stop. She untied the lacings on
her gown, and wriggled out of it, then her shift, then her undergarments.
"I am leaving this room, Eowyn! Please, do not continue this. It will only bring grief to us
both..." Naked, Eowyn grasped his hand, and put it to her breast.
"If I cannot have your heart, I will have your body, or I will take my own life before the orcs
can! Or before you can wound me any further!" Her voice had risen to a panicked crescendo.
Aragorn hurriedly closed the door. "Peace, Lady! We will have strife enough for a hundred lifetimes
before dawn breaks! Why must we..." she sought and covered his mouth with her own, winding her
body around his like a strangling vine.
Perhaps he should have treated her roughly, shoved her away to show his lack of interest, perhaps even
disgust at this display. But he could not treat her so, this princess of Rohan who had declared herself
to him so boldly. Her pain and need were palpable. Some other man might be able to treat her so,
and with all righteousness. He could not.
He would try a different tactic.
Aragorn gently unwound her arms from his neck and shoulders.
"I have to get undressed lady, unless you know of another way this can be done..."
After he had done so, Aragorn lit a candle. Eowyn had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes
downcast, suddenly shy. God's knew, his hesitation had nothing to do with her attractiveness.
She was slender, and had skin that shone with a creamy pearlescence. Her golden hair fell
in waves around her shoulders. Her nose was small and acquiline, her mouth a pink rosebud.
She was a beauty.
"Look at me, Eowyn."
Aragorn stood, illumed by the candle's light. Even by Numenorean standards, he was no longer
young. His sunbrowed body had scores of scars, a half dozen of them representing near fatal
wounds. The black hairs on his chest already had a sprinkling of grey among them. His shoulder
length black hair was tangled and sour with sweat, dirt and some of his own blood. His shoulder
and ribs were bandaged, and there were already a dozen cuts and scrapes upon him that did
not need binding, but taken together, gave his body the look of a battlefield.
He allowed himself a rueful smile. 'This should do it..." he thought to himself.
"I am a ruin, my lady. I am honored by the offering of your maidenhead, but wouldn't it be best for
you to save yourself for your husband? Some brave fellow almost as young and beautiful as you? I know
that all looks bleak now, but your folk, and I beside them, will give our all to make sure there is a
tomorrow for Rohan. Do not despair."
Aragorn had meant these words to sound fatherly, and the shock of his weathered and battle scarred
body to repulse this gently raised young girl.
Eowyn looked upon him, her eyes, pale blue orbs, big as saucers, filling again with tears. She then
flung her herself upon him, and buried her face in his chest.
"I think you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen...."
It would take so very little to make this proud, fierce little creature happy. Arwen had gone to
where he could not follow. Destruction was the prediction for all at Helm's Deep. In spite of the
nobility he strove to maintain, he was still a man. Any man with the spectre of death looming
would want a last taste of some of the sweetness of this life before the end...
Eomer had been Eowyn's only confidant in this matter. He had visited her after she was wounded
on the fields of Pelennor, and she had told him everything. As she recovered in Gondor, she calculated
the days and knew she had missed her cycle. She knew that she was with child.
It was Eomer who advised her to accept Faramir's proposal, and to keep the matter secret. Good counsel,
or she would have declared herself pregnant with the King's bastard as he took his Elven sweetheart
to wife.
As royalty, Eowyn would have had a claim as the true Queen of Gondor as mother to the King's first and only
heir, but Aragorn would never have put Arwen aside for her. Eomer, as King of Rohan, could not have allowed
his sister to be so shamed before both nations should the true father of her first child become known.
He would have had to make Aragorn answer for so casual a treatment of his sister. Such a challenge would
have strained and probably broken the newly formed alliance between Gondor and Rohan.
Faramir's infatuation was fortuitous; they were wed within the month.
She would never have guessed that her heart's true mate was to be found in a marriage of convenience.
She had kept this secret hidden from the world, secure and completely happy in her new life, until a
phantom came to her bedroom and whispered it in her ear.
Eowyn's suffering had left her exhausted, but it always amazed her how quickly the
travail of childbirth could be so soon forgotten when she viewed her new babe.
It was barely twenty hours since she had gone into labor prematurely, and that
strange but gifted healer had saved both their lives. She had been given a potion
for pain, which she expected to be considerable once the medicine wore off. The
procedure had been explained to her after she regained conciousness. Eowyn scarcely
believed it.
Her handmaids had tended to her as soon as she awoke. She had been bathed
and her hair brushed to a golden sheen. Eowyn now wore a gown of pale pink, the
slight color adding a rosy tint to her complexion. Although pale from the pain
and blood loss, she radiated an almost ethereal beauty. Faramir kissed her lightly
on the forehead, as he sat on a chair pulled close.
"Motherhood becomes you, Eowyn. You have never been more lovely."
She smiled and laughed lightly, "You say that because you love me."
Eowyn stroked his cheek with the back of her hand,
"I say that because it is true." He kissed her hand, then held it tightly. The strain
of the last few hours had left dark circles under his eyes, and a slightly gray pallor
to his complexion. "To see you and our daughter well and happy is all that I could have
hoped for, when just yesterday you seemed at death's door."
Faramir leaned forward and kissed her deeply. "I would have given all that I own
and all that I am to have you well. I am again the happiest man in all the Realm."
The new baby had suckled heartily, and was now asleep in the cradle adjacent to
Eowyn's bed.
"What will will name her, Faramir? Do you like 'Aranor'? I think that is the feminine
of Aragorn. Perhaps his mother's name? I do not know it, but let us inquire. I thought
we might honor our good lord, Aragorn. He could not have been more supportive and
hospitable if he had been my brother - or yours, my love. He has treated us like kin."
Faramir smiled indulgently. "I agree. As always, a wise and thoughtful decision. I like 'Aranor'.
I will ask Arwen his mother's name; Aragorn is likely to be too modest to allow it should we give
him warning. We will present him with the deed as done."
His countenance grew grim suddenly.
"You mentioned 'the dark man' when you first went into labor. What did you mean? Who was he?
Do you remember?"
Eowyn averted her eyes and smoothed the bedsheets over her abdomen.
"Did I? I cannot recall. It must have been some delusion brought on by my illness, my lord..."
Eowyn smiled tremulously. "I was in great distress. The mind cannot be relied upon in such
circumstances." She patted Faramir's hand reassuringly. "If I remembered what prompted me
to such utterances, I would tell you. Do not concern yourself, my husband."
He lay his hand over hers. "To compound my fears for your health, I worried than some intruder
had frightened you into labor. And the healer Augra told us about that strange mark upon you...
Well.. No matter. Tell me if you remember ought. But if not, I thank the gods and our King for
our good fortune in this matter, and that will be the end of it."
Faramir studied his wife's expressions during this exchange. He knew she did not speak truthfully,
but now was not the time to press the issue. She was still weak. However, he would be vigilant, and
obtain additional details from the woman Augra.
Something was amiss.
Eowyn steered the conversation to more homely concerns, and Faramir allowed her to think he
had put the issue aside.
Eowyn could not discuss the phantom's visit, for the dark man's disturbing question still haunted
her. Eowyn especially could not discuss the incident with her husband. The truth of this matter
would wound her beloved beyond measure, ruin the trust and friendship between themselves and
the King, and plunge two realms, Gondor and Rohan, into turmoil.
Theodred Castimir was not Faramir's child.
He was the son of Aragorn, and as of this moment, the sole claimant to the title of heir to the
throne of Gondor.
________________________________________________________________________ ____________
It had happened on the night of the battle at Helm's Deep.
Eowyn, far younger then, had been smitten by the exiled King of Gondor. Aragorn, however, had made
it plain that he loved another, but that she had gone from him.
Then he had been lost to them, carried off by one of the Wargs. the huge carnivorous beasts that
were also known as the wolves of Isengard. Eowyn grieved as if she had been widowed, and was numb
with sorrow at the thought of living without Aragorn. A blazing beacon of hope in her desolate life,
snuffed out before anything had even begun. The fact that all might die in a matter of hours was no
longer of any consequence to her.
Miraculously, Aragorn had come to the fortress; in shreds, battered from his fall and the wounds
of battle. It was a miracle he had survived - to then face almost certain death at the spear
and sword points of the tens of thousands of orcs sent to destroy all that remained of her people.
Eowyn wanted him more than she had wanted anything in her life. From the first moment her
eyes beheld him, he had filled her field of vision, her heart and her soul. If this was to be their
last night on this earth, she wanted to die with at least the memory of loving him. Although to
die the virgin shield maiden of Rohan had a brave and noble ring to it, it did not comfort the
heart, or satisfy this newly discovered ache that made all other considerations fade to
insignificance.
He was urged to rest, and have his wounds dressed; perhaps to have a hasty meal. The mood of
Rohan was grim, defeat and obliteration upon them all. Few, if any, thought they would survive
the night. Eowyn tended Aragorn's wounds, and waited upon him; her desperation spurring
her to foolish action.
She told herself, he would not LET himself care for her, as his heart was already with another.
She told herself that IF he could only be made to see her, past the blindness of his pain for that
other woman, he would realize that Eowyn yearned for him with passion enough for both of them.
Her fire would kindle an affection in him that, if they lived, would grow to be the love she sought.
All this she told herself, as she agonized over how to approach him. Time was short; if she
did not declare herself immediately, all might be ended before it had had a chance to begin.
Aragorn rested fitfully as he tried to gather his strength for the imminent battle. She had found
a small chamber for him, apart from the main hallways, to provide privacy and a measure of quiet.
She slipped into his room, and closed the door behind her. Eowyn lit no candle; she would
be braver in the dark.
"Who is there?" he asked, hoarse with exhaustion. He stood up from his cot, and Eowyn heard the
rasping of metal as if he grasped his sword. "I should be at the parapets. I am sure the forces of
Isengard will be upon us in a moment..."
Eowyn ran to him, and threw her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. "That they may
be, but I am here, now. Please hear me, Aragorn,.."
He grasped her shoulder. "Eowyn, whatever it is, it must wait. I must go. And you must see to your
people; there is no time..."
"I know there is no time! Aragorn...be with me now!"
He was silent for some few moments. "It is only these desperate hours that make you confuse
what you feel for me with love. Eowyn, you do not know me. We met scarcely five days ago..."
he spoke softly and gently, as to a child.
Eowyn continued to hold him tightly, although he had ceased grasping her shoulder and now
his arms were held away from his sides, as if he did not want even to touch her. "Five days!
I was sure in an hour that I loved you! Please do not send me away!" Her voice was edged with
hysteria. To have the love of her life so close, and not have as much of him as the time and
circumstance would allow was unbearable. She would go mad before she could be spitted upon
an orc's sword.
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He was startled. "It would shame you, and disrespect this
stronghold of your fathers to do as you ask, my lady. I have never led you to believe that
I looked upon you with desire..."
Eowyn was taken aback by this; the first taste of real rejection beginning to scald her.
"...because you know I love another! I have never taken a woman's body without giving my
heart...Eowyn, you know I do not love you." He said it casually, as if it was of little consequence.
Aragorn shrugged her off and opened the door slightly, to let in enough light for him to find his gear.
Steadfastly ignoring her, he splashed cold water on his face from a basin nearby, and belted his sword
around his waist. He turned towards the door.
"You seek to wound me, to dissuade me from my course. I stand fast!" Eowyn began to cry,
little choking sobs that digusted her, but she was unable to stop. She untied the lacings on
her gown, and wriggled out of it, then her shift, then her undergarments.
"I am leaving this room, Eowyn! Please, do not continue this. It will only bring grief to us
both..." Naked, Eowyn grasped his hand, and put it to her breast.
"If I cannot have your heart, I will have your body, or I will take my own life before the orcs
can! Or before you can wound me any further!" Her voice had risen to a panicked crescendo.
Aragorn hurriedly closed the door. "Peace, Lady! We will have strife enough for a hundred lifetimes
before dawn breaks! Why must we..." she sought and covered his mouth with her own, winding her
body around his like a strangling vine.
Perhaps he should have treated her roughly, shoved her away to show his lack of interest, perhaps even
disgust at this display. But he could not treat her so, this princess of Rohan who had declared herself
to him so boldly. Her pain and need were palpable. Some other man might be able to treat her so,
and with all righteousness. He could not.
He would try a different tactic.
Aragorn gently unwound her arms from his neck and shoulders.
"I have to get undressed lady, unless you know of another way this can be done..."
After he had done so, Aragorn lit a candle. Eowyn had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes
downcast, suddenly shy. God's knew, his hesitation had nothing to do with her attractiveness.
She was slender, and had skin that shone with a creamy pearlescence. Her golden hair fell
in waves around her shoulders. Her nose was small and acquiline, her mouth a pink rosebud.
She was a beauty.
"Look at me, Eowyn."
Aragorn stood, illumed by the candle's light. Even by Numenorean standards, he was no longer
young. His sunbrowed body had scores of scars, a half dozen of them representing near fatal
wounds. The black hairs on his chest already had a sprinkling of grey among them. His shoulder
length black hair was tangled and sour with sweat, dirt and some of his own blood. His shoulder
and ribs were bandaged, and there were already a dozen cuts and scrapes upon him that did
not need binding, but taken together, gave his body the look of a battlefield.
He allowed himself a rueful smile. 'This should do it..." he thought to himself.
"I am a ruin, my lady. I am honored by the offering of your maidenhead, but wouldn't it be best for
you to save yourself for your husband? Some brave fellow almost as young and beautiful as you? I know
that all looks bleak now, but your folk, and I beside them, will give our all to make sure there is a
tomorrow for Rohan. Do not despair."
Aragorn had meant these words to sound fatherly, and the shock of his weathered and battle scarred
body to repulse this gently raised young girl.
Eowyn looked upon him, her eyes, pale blue orbs, big as saucers, filling again with tears. She then
flung her herself upon him, and buried her face in his chest.
"I think you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen...."
It would take so very little to make this proud, fierce little creature happy. Arwen had gone to
where he could not follow. Destruction was the prediction for all at Helm's Deep. In spite of the
nobility he strove to maintain, he was still a man. Any man with the spectre of death looming
would want a last taste of some of the sweetness of this life before the end...
Eomer had been Eowyn's only confidant in this matter. He had visited her after she was wounded
on the fields of Pelennor, and she had told him everything. As she recovered in Gondor, she calculated
the days and knew she had missed her cycle. She knew that she was with child.
It was Eomer who advised her to accept Faramir's proposal, and to keep the matter secret. Good counsel,
or she would have declared herself pregnant with the King's bastard as he took his Elven sweetheart
to wife.
As royalty, Eowyn would have had a claim as the true Queen of Gondor as mother to the King's first and only
heir, but Aragorn would never have put Arwen aside for her. Eomer, as King of Rohan, could not have allowed
his sister to be so shamed before both nations should the true father of her first child become known.
He would have had to make Aragorn answer for so casual a treatment of his sister. Such a challenge would
have strained and probably broken the newly formed alliance between Gondor and Rohan.
Faramir's infatuation was fortuitous; they were wed within the month.
She would never have guessed that her heart's true mate was to be found in a marriage of convenience.
She had kept this secret hidden from the world, secure and completely happy in her new life, until a
phantom came to her bedroom and whispered it in her ear.