Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ The Sisterhood ( Chapter 28 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter -29 The Sisterhood


After the Rai had retired to the rooms provided for him in the palace, Aragorn sought Faramir
to tell him of his conversation with the Harad Lord. They availed themselves of the small chamber
near the the throne room. It was now late afternoon, and slanting sunlight illumed the volumes
on the floor to ceiling shelves and the scant furniture, including a modest desk littered with
Aragorn's unopened correspondence.

Legolas, Gimli, and Pippin were cautioned not to mention their imminent departure. Although Aragorn
felt no overt deception from Dathik-Nessa,the entire episode concerned him. Not only the information
regarding this new and seemingly powerful foe, but the timing of the Rai's visit. He did not want
his new - found 'friend' to know that the King was leaving his stronghold within hours of his own
departure, just in case some ambush awaited them on the road, the seated monarch without issue with
only a score of men, but a city and a Queen without their King, with the Harad warrior women within
these very walls.

Aragorn sank heavily into his chair, while Faramir strode to the window and peered towards the
street, as if the answers to their dilemma would soon come to the palace door.


"Can we trust him, my leige? After all, that is his countryman. His show of concern could be part
of some elaborate ruse, some plot to mislead us-although I cannot see how his presence here, alone
but for a few women with spears, could serve a sinister cause. We certainly will be even more
vigilant, and try to prepare ourselves for any attack launched against us. How would that aid this
Hasdral?"

Faramir's thoughts echoed his own concerns.

"I have asked myself these same questions, Faramir, and still have no answers that satisfy -
except for the one given by Dathik-Nessa himself...he speaks the truth. Both Gondor and Haradrima,
it seems, must guard against this new foe."


Faramir rubbed his chin in irritation. "From what you have told me, this Harad wizard sounds much
like the visitor who frightened my Eowyn. Who else could it be?"

Faramir pounded his fist on the windowsill.


"If I could get my hands on this Hasdral...I have not had a moments peace since hearing a stranger
touched my beloved - and here, in the best defended stronghold the Men of the West have in this
land! How could this happen!"

Aragorn said nothing. He watched Faramir's jaw muscles clench. Although generally even tempered,
even affable, Faramir's devotion to Eowyn brought a savage quality to his character at the thought
of her coming to harm. His flare of rage reminded him of the consequences of the discovery Theodred
Castimir's true father.

Aragorn dreaded facing his friend and Regent should all become known to him. Although the boy was
conceived before he and Eowyn were wed, even before they had met, the decade old secret would seem
a base betrayal. Blood might have to be spilled, probably on both sides, for the sake of the lady's
honor. His friendship with Faramir would be at an end, with the council and the city divided in
their loyalties, and the Realm's stability again in question...


The King had been pondering the complement of their planned sortie, and had come to a decision.
Even before Eowyn's revelation, the matter of succession until (hope still persisted) Arwen
conceived, needed to be settled.

"Faramir...my friend...you cannot accompany me on this mission."


Faramir suddenly turned from the window and regarded Aragorn with surprise and confusion.


"Why, my Lord? Have I displeased you in some fashion?"


Aragorn allowed himself a small smile.


"Have you? Let me think. You have been my good friend and loyal vassal, and have the love and
respect of all of our people. I must be the one to lead this mission; I AM the better tracker.
It would be irresponsible to take us both into danger. I need you here, providing leadership in my
absence and protecting my Queen. Also, Faramir..." and here Aragorn allowed a certain bitterness to
creep into his voice, "the matter of succession to the throne of Gondor will not wait until I have
an heir. You have sons;that makes your line secure if harm should befall me. I will have the scribes
produce the necessary decrees. YOU, Faramir, are my heir; and after you, your sons. If I do not have a
child with Arwen, the old Steward line of Gondor will again take up the mantle of ruling Minas
Tirith. But this time it will be as it's rightful, titled monarch."


Faramir took two halting steps towards Aragorn, and then dropped to one knee.


"Please, my liege! I am overwhelmed! I beg you not to command me to leave your side..."


Aragorn raised one hand. "Enough, Faramir! It will be as I have said. To do otherwise would be
unfair to the Realm, your Lady, and the line of Isildur."


As much as Aragorn hated any deceit, this course of events would put right several aspects of his
scattered life in the event of his untimely death. Faramir, the beloved son of this city, whom all
knew before Isildur's heir returned, would inherit the title of King. Aragorn's own son would be
next in line for the throne after Faramir, which was only fitting. And the Lady Eowyn, mother of
Aragorn's son, would become the Queen of Minas Tirith. In truth, since Arwen had given him no child,
the title was rightfully hers.

"Rise, Lord of Minas Ithil. Lead in my absence, be King if I perish, and be content."

Aragorn raised himself from the chair wearily. "The lack of an heir is my responsibility, Faramir.
I love an Elf. Her kind bear seldom. This period of childnessness that is causing such concern is
due to my choice as Queen. She blames herself; but of course, she does all she can. We are at wit's
end, my friend. I am grateful to have you to rely on in this matter. Please...you will render the
greatest service to us all by accepting!"

Faramir by now had risen, and stood awkwardly in the middle of the study.

"You have never spoken to me before of the lack of family, Aragorn. I am uncomfortable with the
thought that your misfortune has brought me into the line of succession. All I can say, my lord,
is that I hope this matter will never come to pass."

Aragorn gave a short bark of a laugh.

"I am not looking forward to dying soon, or childless, so take heart! But these things must be done
in an orderly fashion, and the time has come for the people to know their possible future."


Faramir let loose a sigh of frustration and rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture of weariness.

"Today has been a day of revelations, my lord. And do not mistake me...I know of no greater honor
than that you have just bestowed upon me. Yet, in all honor to your command to rule in your absence,
I wish I could ride with you, Aragorn. I NEED to throttle this villian with my own hands, or run him
through with my own sword. I have not had a peaceful moment since I learned of his existence. Also,
Eowyn hides some other aspect of this wizards' visit from me. I have not pressed her, but she is
careful not to speak of the matter. At all. She feigns forgetfulness, but I feel that more happened
than she will speak of. She is still very afraid..."

Faramir cleared his throat, aware that he had allowed his concern for his wife to overshadow his
counsel to the King.

"But here is another matter, my lord. I wonder why my Eowyn was the first target of this wizard.
Perhaps it was because she was most vulnerable. It was probably her advanced pregnancy that made
his interference in our lives so overt; but my lord, have a care! If it is his plan to distress us
by threatening what we hold most dear, not only as lords of this land, but as husbands, as men...
then I can only think that the greatest peril we now face is a threat to your Lady!"

By the gods, he had been blind! That awful night, this 'Koutoulas', how he had hurt Arwen...her
subsequent fear of him...perhaps a more sinister presence had been between them. Arwen seemed
shocked by the violence of that spirit that she herself had called upon him. Perhaps it was this
wizard, attacking them from within, and he had not the wit to perceive it before...

"You are quite right, Faramir. It is a plan of attack that has cast doubt upon our ability
to protect our very homes. But with all of the Servants of the Secret Fire and the Elves gone,
what magic have we? We are virtually defenseless against this type of assault..."
------------------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------
Augra found no solace in drink. After the first hearty swig of the kings' mead, she began to
develop a headache.

It had always been her policy to refrain from ministering to the nobility. No good ever came of a
commoner's involvement in the affairs of the mighty.

And yet, here she was,
between the King of Minas Tirith and his barren Queen, whom it appears he had brutalized,
although not by his own will;

between the King and the Lady of Minas Ithil, who had borne him a son in secret;

between the lady Eowyn and her beloved husband, the Regent of the Realm, ruler in the King's absence
or if some misfortune should befall the King;

between the fertile Lady from Rohan and childless Elven Queen;

between Aragorn and his trusted friend and vassal, Faramir...

Augra moaned, her head throbbing. The tally of complications was not complete.

The Harad wizard lay his spore thickly upon the King, the Queen, and Lady Eowyn. And upon that
Elven man, who also had a scent of his own magic. In Augra's mind, he was bound to the Queen in a
most resolute and disturbing way. She could fairly smell the sexual hunger, the powerful desire he
had for Arwen; yet he was the fabled Legolas, as close as a brother to the King. Sinister mischief
was afoot; Augra knew what had already transpired was but a taste of what lay ahead.

She felt as if she was a feeble dam of rough and simple stones, meant to divert the flow of a small
stream, and now put in the path of a raging torrent. Too many of the participants in this drama
knew of her skills and knowledge; it was only a matter of time until one or the other sought her
out, to persuade her to reveal more facets of this unfolding and seemingly tragic story.

"I won't be here. That's it. I'll go away. I'll go to the north and wander among the towns. They
always need a healer. If I keep moving, they won't be able to find me for months. Maybe, by then,
this will have all come to a close without me."

you delude yourself, sister...

The voice was small and faint, as if a part of her own mind spoke to her in whispers. Augra was not
surprised. At cerain times, in her sanctum, the link with the Elder Sisters was clear and plain, and
they could converse with Augra as if a low-voiced, but annoyingly superior relative sat at her
elbow. Though there were several (or many) sisters (no one was sure how many of them there were on
the Isle though certainly more than one) they spoke with one voice.

She had not had to contact the Elder Sisters for many years. This unbidden communication indicated
the unusual nature of recent events.

Augra was in no mood to ponder why they were so chatty. Her concerns over these grave and intimate
matters of the nobility, and her unwanted involvement in them, was making her irritable.


"How do you know...?!" She muttered. "You don't know everything! I could do it!"

don't excite yourself. The voice, as Augra perceived it, was a smooth and cultured contralto.

you are in the path of this storm. you must prepare to ride it out. you cannot avert it, and you
cannot avoid it.

"Why?! Why can't I avoid it?!"

because the queen seeks you out even as we speak...

With a small yelp, Augra leapt to her feet. She scurried to fill a nearby sack with some dried
meat, and bread from her larder, and a skin she would fill with water from one of the city's
fountains before she left Minas Tirith.

it is futile; she has gifts. you cannot escape this meeting. she will ask for counsel; you must
give it.

"Oh, no...I'm already too deeply involved without presuming to give advice to a queen! I know it
will be bad, my sisters..."

we, too, have seen it; but it is the future of best hope; all other paths are without hope.

"But if she leaves the city... Legolas will have her. I feel his urgency. It is consuming him.
Strider will be inconsolable...and his wrath will be terrible.

greater disaster will come to the white city if she stays... do not despair. you are not alone.
others of the sisterhood have come to the city; they will help. and we will tell you what to do...