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In the morning of that day Aragorn spent most of his time behind closed doors with Eomer. RohanÂ’s councilmen, of whom the majority were older and astute men, were also present. The princes and Amandil were also there as representatives of Gondor. The group discussed various topics concerning the kingdoms of Rohan and Gondor, both present and future. The meeting was being held in a commodious room, which comfortably accommodated the fifteen men. They were seated around a lengthy, squared, oak table complete with matching high back chairs. Rays of sunlight streaked through the windows intermittently, signaling to the inhabitants the expiration of the hours as they dwindled by. They had commenced their discussions since early morning devoid of any interruption. Eomer had ensured that adequate food was provided for the meeting; hence a discreetly placed side table was laden with confectioneries, fruit platters, water and beverages for the sustenance of all. Currently Eomer sat at the head of the table. He began relaying to the group his recent tidings. His men had sent word informing him that there were no further sightings of orcs or renegade forces in his lands.

“This is quite strange,” Eomer said thoughtfully. “Even if they became sensible to the increased surveillance in these lands, they could not have suddenly vanished.” He arose from his chair, scraping the wooden floor as he pushed it back. From the side table, he plucked several grapes from a plentiful bunch displayed on a fruit platter.

Aragorn, who was seated on the right of Eomer’s position at the head of the table, rubbed his temples. A general hushed chatter distinguished the room as the men sought to explore a deeper meaning of Eomer’s tidings. Aragorn’s voice was suddenly heard over the mumblings of the others. “I think we should give them more credit than we are normally inclined to do. They are easily prone to disorientation but in the past they have proven cunning and meditative in plan of attacks.” He gazed over at Eomer who was still plucking grapes from the fruit platter. “Your men should continue to be vigilant. It might be that they lay in waiting until they deem it advantageous to reveal themselves.”

Eomer chewed on the grapes. “If that is the case my men will discover them in time. They know these fields intimately.” He returned to his seat rifling through some papers stacked before him. Maps were sprawled over most of the table surface. On some of them there were distinct marks targeting various points of interest. Earlier in the meeting, the others had borne witness to Aragorn and Eomer’s pledge of renewed alliance between their kingdoms. As Cirion had done with the Eorl of the Mark many years before, Aragorn re-outlined the territories in their kingdom that would be subjected to Eomer’s rule. The boundaries were clearly delineated on the maps sprawled on the table.

Eomer was about to comment on his plan to assign more guards to patrol a wider expanse of his lands when a knock resounded on the door. All eyes were directed to the double doors as a guard entered announcing the arrival of a couple alleging to be the parents of Eomund, EomerÂ’s temporary charge. For a moment Eomer thought of deferring his appointment with the couple until after his meeting had concluded. However, he reasoned that the meeting might span the course of the entire day and he would rather not keep the couple waiting. As it was, their anxiety was probably a trial of their fortitude right now, if indeed they were EomundÂ’s parents.

“Show them to the adjoining room, Malach,” Eomer commanded the guard. “Also, summon the Lady Eowyn to the room shortly.” The guard bowed to Eomer and exited the room.

“My apologies to you all,” he told the others seated around the table. He knew most had anticipated to conclude the meeting by mid-afternoon but with this interruption their plans were now altered. “I will send orders to have the midday meal promptly delivered to this room to avoid any further delay in our discussions. When I return we will resume our meeting.” Most of the men arose seeking the outer doors to stretch their limbs. The midday meal would most likely be readied within the hour but in the meantime they thought a little exercise would be a worthy cure for their lethargic state instigated from sitting all morning. Eomer turned to Aragorn who was talking with Amandil and the princes. They were debating the time of departure for Minas Tirith on the morrow. Outside the brilliant sunshine was now replaced by increasing rain clouds and they were concerned that if the inclement weather perpetuated it might hinder their tentative time of departure in the morning. “Will you join me, Aragorn?” Eomer asked.

Aragorn had intended to use the time to relax and converse with the other men who had known him before but as Thorongil. Since most of them were older, even than Theoden was, they recalled his deeds when he rode with the armies of Thengel, TheodenÂ’s father. However, he arose from his seat in answer to EomerÂ’s inquiry. They both quitted the room leaving behind the echo of their booted footsteps on the wooden floor. They halted before the oak double doors of the adjoining room. The guards pulled open the doors revealing a golden haired, medium built couple timidly standing in the center of the room. Both men entered the room. It was a smaller version of the meeting room. The rapidly darkening sky could be seen through two western windows. Eomer stepped forward greeting the couple. They bowed in reverence to his personage. He directed them to a long cushioned chair, which was nicely fitted up for comfort though still sturdy. The couple gratefully seated themselves. They had journeyed all night after receiving EomerÂ’s summon. At closer view they appeared weather worn and prematurely aged. Eomer and Aragorn readily concluded the state of their affairs in the terms of fortune. Their attire was clean and satisfyingly contrived but boasted nothing of a moderate income. Aragorn assumed that the woman was minimally skilled in the craft of sewing because under closer scrutiny their clothing appeared to be fashioned by the hand of an amateur. He had seen Arwen and the other elves work with a needle long enough to determine level of skill. His reflections ceased when he became sensible of the womanÂ’s inquiring eyes upon him but they quickly fell under the intensity of his gaze.

“You are Eomund’s parents?” asked Eomer searchingly. The couple nodded. Their expressions portrayed their apprehension of the current situation.

“Permit me to speak, my lord,” the man said humbly rising from his seat. Eomer acquiesced and the man introduced himself. “I am Eorland and this is my wife, Tiriel.” He turned to look down at her. She reached up her hand in reassurance. Eorland took it and clasped it between his own. “I know as parents we have failed our boy miserably,” he continued, his voice underscored with a tremor. “All his life we sought to keep him safe though in the end our efforts proved futile.” His voice broke and he paused to control his emotions. “Eomund is all we have. I cannot describe the surge of hope and joy we felt upon learning that he was safe here in Edoras under the hospitality of our king.” Tiriel nodded emotionally in agreement. “Our gratitude is great, my lord and king.” He bowed deeply before Eomer then reseated himself.

Tiriel rose. “My lord, had our fortune been otherwise we would not have found ourselves in our current predicament. For many years we have endured the hardships of poverty and only wished to improve upon our existence. When my husband secured employment with his former master we were elated even though we knew him to be a man of little honor and vile deeds. We thought only of the urgent relief of our dire condition. Since it was a requirement for Eorland to reside on the land of his new master, we both reasoned that as long as my son and I remained in the confines of our home, we would be relatively untouched by his malice.” Tiriel looked solemnly at her husband. “Initially Eorland encouraged me to take up abode with my sister who dwelt only a short distance from our home but I refused to be parted from him. I could not bear it even for my own safety and that of my child.” Her voice became bitter. “I curse the day those dreadful men entered our village. I had never seen such men before. Their behavior betrayed them to be men of mean understanding and little inhibition. I do not think there was a woman within our village that did not fear for her life and that of her offspring. I commanded Eomund to remain indoors for the duration of their stay in the village and he heeded my words.” She smiled at the memory. “He is an obedient and well mannered child. That day he was taken I had allowed him the opportunity to go meet his father at the hour we knew he normally walked home. I remembered how his little face alighted when I finally conceded to his pleas. He enjoyed greeting his father especially after he was absent all day.” Her hands clenched at her sides. Her eyes darted back and forth between Eomer to Aragorn. “Can you imagine my anguish and despair when I learned my only child had been heartlessly taken from me?” Her balled fists pounded her chest in emphasis. “I thought I would crumble under the burden of that knowledge.” An agonizing cry escaped her lips and Eorland arose to embrace her.

Eomer and Aragorn had remained silent throughout the couple’s speech. Their compassion for the couple was deeply stirred. Eomer was most affected by their information since he nurtured an abiding love for his people as any good king normally did. “My lord, I have since withdrawn my labor from such a man. The very thought of consuming the food provided by his hand revolts me. His actions demonstrated to me just how little he valued the life of my son. I also thought it best to remove myself from his premises after almost throttling him to death’s door. No doubt Morgoth himself would gladly welcome him.” He remembered his comrades had silently observed as he almost smothered the life of their master. He was gasping desperately under the fatal pressure of Eorland’s hands, which had been clenched steadfastly around his throat. Still, no one came to his aid. It was apparent that his comrades thought the preceding events had rendered him momentarily mentally unstable but he knew for himself he was master of all his wits. He had no doubt that the majority of men that was present during this altercation probably felt their master’s death would be a superb atonement for his past and equally disturbing sins.

“Only the Valar knows what stayed my hand for it was certainly not from any will of my own.” Eorland looked piercingly at Eomer. “That day I had just returned from an errand when I witnessed the nomads apprehending my son. It took several of them to subdue me after I attempted to liberate my son for my rage was great. The kicks in my stomach were as nothing compared to the contrariety of emotions I beheld in my son’s eyes: from the manifestation of hope to the resignation of despair. So young and innocent he was in many ways. I knew then that if I were ever fortunate to see him again, that innocence would be gone. I had failed him and I had failed my wife. Our bond of love has been sorely tested these past few weeks. Fortunately, although all else in our lives has been in disarray, I was able to secure new employment with a man who exemplifies honor in many ways. The Valar has surely blessed us with a second chance because now we can take Eomund to a new home and a better life.” They had a look of expectation in their eyes. It was clear that they longed to be reunited with their son who was at that moment in the caring hands of Rohan’s healer.

“You will have to remain here in Edoras for several days,” Eomer informed them. “Eomund has suffered a terrible ordeal for one so young. His strength has not yet fully recovered.” The doors creaked open and Eowyn entered the room. “Lodging will be provided for you for the duration of your stay in Edoras.” Eomer waved Eowyn forward. “My sister, the Lady Eowyn, will direct you to your son. We will speak further on this matter tomorrow.” The couple thanked Eomer and exited the hall with Eowyn.

Eomer turned to Aragorn after the others had left. “It has been long since I have heard tidings such as these.” He walked over to a table lined with an assortment of wines. He took a glass from a nearby shelf and poured himself a glass of wine. He sipped the wine savoring its soothing effect. He then turned to Aragorn dryly stating, “Perhaps we should add to our discussions the palliation of the plight of poverty in our lands.” He had not intended for his tone to be characterized by bitterness but it was inadvertently emanated in that way.

Aragorn was a slightly surprised by his acrimony. “True. These discussions are beneficial to both our kingdoms. But in the case of this couple, you need to be wary that your emotions do not adversely influence your judgment.” He looked directly at Eomer and said encouragingly, “You embody all the great qualities of a good king and your affection for your people is not the least.”

Eomer sank into a chair across from the long cushioned chair. He stared out at the skies, which threatened a torrential downpour. He sipped his wine slowly. “I now understand the weight of burden that I often saw in uncle Theoden’s bearing.” He turned to Aragorn who was now imitating Eomer’s disregard of consuming wine so early in the day. They were cognizant of the folly of their indulgence but ignored steadfastly any pangs of guilt they experienced. They both knew they needed clear minds for the continued discussions of affairs in their kingdoms but they heeded not their conscience. “I strive to be remembered as a great king to my people but I am a man of little patience.”

Aragorn patted him on his shoulder before taking a seat across from him. “I know all too well the feeling but you must learn patience or it will be your torment. Improvements will occur but not all in a short time.” Aragorn sank deeper into the chair. The vestiges of insufficient rest were gnawing at his will to remain alert. That evening he intended to retire at a decent hour to replenish his strength for the long journey home. He almost wished that the torrential downpour would continue into the morrow to delay their departure for another day but he knew he had been away from Minas Tirith long enough. Duty required his presence in the city he now hailed as home. Besides, Arwen and Melian had already made it implicitly clear that they were ready to return home. He looked slyly at Eomer then hinted to him a possible source of consolation. “You know, we differ only in that I have a partner to share in my burdens.”

Eomer laughed. “I agree. For now I have the kind support of Eowyn but she will be gone in a year. I cannot ask her to remain beyond that. She deserves to speedily embark on her new life.”

“Then perhaps you should open your eyes to the female population around you.”

Eomer chuckled. “Why is it you seemed agitated last night after dinner?” Aragorn chuckled. He clearly understood Eomer’s implication. “I can only assume that you had to relinquish that offensive habit of smoking pipe weed for the sake of your wife. Queen Evenstar has certainly lost little time in effecting changes.”

Aragorn smiled. “But I have gained more than you can possibly imagine, my friend,” he countered.

Eomer observed him carefully. “You speak with such sincerity that I can not doubt you. Perhaps one of these days I might be dignified by the love of a beautiful woman.” Aragorn nodded in agreement. After they had consumed the contents of their glasses, Eomer suggested that they return to the meeting room before the servants cleared the midday meal. Fortunately, the meal had been delayed and they were able to dine with the majority of the others. Finally, when all was satiated, the servants cleared the remnants of the meal away and the debate resumed behind closed doors from then until early evening.

As for the others, Eowyn spent most of the day attending to the daily duties of the kingdom. She had been in the middle of settling a dispute between two of the stable hands charged with the care of the royal stables when EomerÂ’s summons came. It was a welcomed relief for her to escape the triviality of their dispute. Apparently one of them had neglected to secure the door on the stall that housed one of EomerÂ’s esteemed horses allowing it to flee. Her first concern was to have them speedily retrieve the horse. For the moment she did not care to determine which stable hand was culpable. She knew that when Eomer was finally apprised of the details his wrath would be great and she would rather avoid that display. Before accompanying the guards to honor EomerÂ’s request, she issued orders to both stable hands to search for the horse enlisting a few other stable hands to assist them in the task. Already the skies signaled that a storm was brewing and she wanted the horse safely back in its stall before the rain showers began.

On her route to the room where she was summoned, she paused to speak with Faramir. According to him, he was stretching his legs after incessant hours of sitting in the discussions. The other men loitered the length of the corridor bowing in greeting when they realized her presence. She was dressed in a flowing green dress that accentuated her complexion and light figure. Her loose golden hair fell to her waist. Normally she reserved her gowns for dinnertime and special occasions, but Arwen and Melian had convinced her that a woman could be just as productive in a beautiful gown as long as it was comfortable and devoid of the usual unnecessary frills. She was still amused at the memory of their insistence. “Besides, I would think that you would like to inundate Faramir with many splendid visions of you for the journey home,” Melian had added. Eowyn had laughed at Melian’s assertion. She was no longer astonished by Melian’s candor. Arwen, who was always more reserved, had only smiled. Eowyn could not figure her out. To her it seemed that the Queen was happy but she was also touched by a strange melancholy. At times she would sit amongst them surrounded by lively spirits yet her eyes would appear distant unless Aragorn was in the room. Whenever he was present her happiness was visible. Melian had told her once that the love that Arwen shared with her kin was very great and her sorrow would be slow to diminish. Her attention was drawn back to the present by Faramir’s inquiry. He was asking her to join him for lunch. The admiration in his eyes was unconcealed. Eowyn consented though he informed her afterward that it would have to be brief. He was expected back in the chamber room when the assembly reconvened.

Eowyn parted with him promising to return shortly. She continued on to the adjoining room. Strange voices could be heard from within and she began to wonder the reason for EomerÂ’s summons. She had been so pre-occupied with the recovery of EomerÂ’s horse that she had neglected to ask. The guards pulled open the doors before her and she entered the room. Eomer and Aragorn were standing before a couple whose backs were turned to her. She walked forward at EomerÂ’s signal then was introduced to the couple. She was relieved that EomundÂ’s parents were finally here. The healer had told her that the boy was deeply troubled at nights. Now that his parents were here, she had an intuition that his recovery would progress more speedily. At any rate, Arwen, who had been his daily companion, was scheduled to depart the following day. Eowyn had briefly worried about the effect the cessation in her daily visits would render in the boyÂ’s recovery. As it was, she had loaned Arwen several books of adventure to entertain Eomund during her daily visits. Arwen had told her that it was the only instrument that was successful in inciting Eomund to speak. Now Eowyn reflected on the impeccable timing of his parents. She need not worry herself now with amusing him after Arwen departed on the morrow.

At Eomer’s request, she ushered the couple to Eomund’s room. As usual for that time of day, Arwen sat next to Eomund’s bed reading to him. Her accent sounded strange to the ears of all three newcomers. Her pronunciation of the Rohirric words was correct but the intonation was distinctly different. It was apparent on the faces of Eorland and Tiriel their astonishment at her graceful and stunning beauty. They had never before seen anyone like her. Indeed they were a people who thought of elves as something of legend. Arwen became conscious of their presence and halted her reading. She gently shook Eomund, who had been listening with his eyes closed. Although his strength increased with the expiration of each day, he was still considerably weak. His eyes fluttered open and Arwen softly said, “You have visitors.” She gestured toward the doorway where the couple stood unmoving. The woman held her hands to her mouth suppressing her gasp. Eomund appeared so emaciated to her that she wanted to cry. But that feeling was quickly smothered by the look of adoration she beheld in his eyes. He reached out his little hands to her and she rushed forward lifting him into her arms. She showered him with kisses through a steady flow of tears. His little hands clung to her neck as she crushed him to her. His father came forward kneeling beside the bed. He enclosed his family in a warm and protective hug.

Arwen had already removed to the doorway. She and Eowyn were about to quit the room when Tiriel’s beckon stayed their exit. “I could not let you leave without first thanking you for your kindness to my son in my absence. I will not forget it for as long as I live.” Arwen and Eowyn accepted her gratitude then quitted the room after waving goodbye to Eomund. They parted in their own direction after reconfirming their appointment before dinner to take Eowyn’s measurements. Eowyn strolled happily along to the meeting room. She had quickly ordered the preparation of the small dining room where she intended to take lunch with Faramir. He was obviously waiting for her because no sooner had she approached the meeting room he issued from it.

“My lady,” he said holding out his arm to Eowyn. She hooked her arm in his and guided him to dining room while all the way engaging him in a light banter. Surprisingly the expected waiting time for their meal was of a brief duration. Most of the meal was already laid out by the time they entered the dining room. The thud of the large raindrops on the windowpane lent its own tune to the quiet room.

“Could this be the deterrent I prayed for?” Faramir asked, jovially gesturing to the turbulent skies.

“Why, whatever could you mean, sir?” Eowyn answered, her eyes twinkling.

Faramir observed her closely. “Are you saying that my absence will not be felt most acutely by one I leave behind tomorrow?”

“Now, I always thought that Eomer was content solely with my companionship.” Eowyn was giggling by now.

“Okay then, have it your way, my lady. But I am not abashed to say that you will be sorely missed. I ask only for a strand of your golden hair to take with me when I leave tomorrow.”

The color on Eowyn’s cheeks deepened. “If that is your wish, then you shall have it,” she replied sincerely. Despite her light mood, the pain of her pending separation from him already plagued her. She had awoken that morning with the instant memory that it was his last day in Edoras. She almost regretted her decision to delay her nuptials for an entire year. The journey to Minas Tirith was lengthy and she had no desire to travel repeatedly between both kingdoms. She had also grown accustomed to the companionship of Arwen and Melian at dinnertime. It was nice to share discussions from a female perspective. But Faramir stirred the most of her solemnity. She treasured the days they had spent together and already missed their daily conversations. She pushed the food around her plate unconsciously. Her appetite was curbed.

“You are not famished, my lady?”

Eowyn smiled. “Apparently, I am not. But please, continue,” she told Faramir. “I believe you need a nourishing meal for the grueling hours ahead.”

Faramir nodded. Eowyn’s mention of the afternoon meeting reminded him of his restricted time. He concentrated on his meal while Eowyn left the room to quickly fetch a book of poetry that Arwen had given to her. It was written in Westron, the common speech throughout the lands. She read to Faramir while he ate. She knew he loved the written word and poetry most especially. When she finished, Faramir said to her, “Permit me my lady, to one day teach you the passionate expression of poetry.”

Eowyn feigned astonishment. “Is that your way of humbly declaring that I lack the necessary passion required to stir my audience during recital?” Eowyn was not offended. She knew he spoke the truth since poetry was hardly a favorite past time for her. It was Arwen who had encouraged her to open her mind to the beauty of that literary form. “Eowyn,” she had said, “poetry manipulates the strings of the heart. Sometimes it possesses such an incredible fire that often one wonders how he or she escaped being smoldered.”

Faramir smiled. “Well, will you allow me to demonstrate to you the variations in tones and expressions that usually justly characterize the feelings of the poet?”

“I know when there is room for improvement, my lord.” Eowyn reached over touching his hand. “It will be an honor to be tutored under your instruction.”

“Great,” said Faramir. He arose from the chair, placing his napkin on the polished table. “I fear our rendezvous ends here, my lady. Regrettably, it is time for me to return to my duty.”

“Then I will see you at dinnertime, my lord.” Faramir took her hand and gently kissed it. He hesitated at the door to look at her before quitting the room. Eowyn summoned the servants to the room to clear away the remnants of their meal. She lingered behind skimming through the book of poetry. She was thus occupied until the memory of Faramir’s request jolted her to her feet. With quick strides she headed for her chamber. She crossed the room passing a large canopied bed resplendent with white linen. She went immediately to a wooden chest located in a far corner of the room. She rummaged through it seeking the instrument she needed. She retrieved the scissors from the chest then walked over to the mirror. She held the scissors adeptly while trimming a lock of her hair from an area where it would be least noticeable. She withdrew a silk scarf from a drawer carefully wrapping the lock between it before placing it in a secure place. Later that evening she planned on presenting it to Faramir.

Dinner that evening was comparatively less spirited. The men looked and felt exhausted. Their discussions had concluded only an hour before dinnertime leaving only a limited time to refresh themselves for dinner. The rain was still fiercely pouring but the companions chose to ignore it. For all they knew, the morning might prove sunny.

Eomer raised his glass to his guests. “May your journey home be safe and swift,” he toasted. The others raised their glass to each other in fellowship.

All was already settled. Arwen had secured Eowyn’s measurements with the assistance of Eowyn’s waiting lady. The measurements were already secured in the depth of her trunks. Eowyn had also presented Faramir with the gift of the lock of hair she had trimmed earlier that day. He had been exceedingly pleased by her thoughtfulness. “I knew I was not the only one besotted by our mutual regard,” he had whispered endearingly. Eowyn loved that about him. He had no reserve with her. Currently he sat directly across from her. Often she felt his eyes probing her person as if trying to commit her image to memory. She was warmed by his adulation. “If only the hands of time would stop for us,” she thought to herself. Her reflections were interrupted by Aragorn’s voice. He was bidding all a good night pleading the need for rest. Arwen wished them a pleasant evening as well before quitting the room on Aragorn’s arm. Melian and Prince Imrahil remained behind conversing with Eomer.

Faramir suggested they take a walk along the sheltered area of the exterior of the Golden Hall. Eowyn acquiesced to his proposal hoping for some privacy. They excused themselves from the tiny gathering and issued into the corridor.

“We might get soaked, Faramir,” Eowyn tentatively said.

“I trust your guidance will spare us that unfortunate result,” Faramir replied.

“That I can do providing the torches have not been all extinguished by the strong winds.” They stepped out into the outer doors. The roof covered a reasonable expanse of the external corridors. They were able to stroll along them without being soaked although sprays from the wind blown rain slightly harassed them. “A fine night this is to embark on a leisurely stroll,” Eowyn humorously offered.

“Since we hold no control over the weather, we must make the best of what we are given,” Faramir said positively. “Besides, I do not need to see the stars to behold the beauty of one.” Eowyn smiled at his words of adoration. He slowly bent his head and gently kissed her. “I will miss your companionship, Eowyn. Are you sure you would not like to be married at an earlier date?”

Eowyn smiled. “It is certainly tempting to abandon the claims of duty, but I already gave Eomer my word. He is relying on my assistance and I have no desire to disappoint him.” Her arms were still wounded around Faramir’s neck.

He bent to kiss her once more. “I admire your constancy. Fortunately, I am a patient man. For now, let Eomer enjoy the claims on your time, but next year your time belongs to me.”

Eowyn smiled up at him. “I would not have it any other way, my lord.” He planted a firm kiss on her lips before resuming their stroll. The wind blown rain soon drove them back into the shelter of the hall. The others had already retired. Faramir was also exhausted. He escorted Eowyn to the hall where her room was situated then bid her a pleasant goodnight. Eowyn entered her room, leaning against the door once she was within. She reached up her hand to touch her lips. It was difficult for her to see him go but it was her choice. Hopefully the year would pass swiftly especially under the demands for her time.