| Subject: To the throne room |
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Eomer and Faramir
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Date Posted: 09:59:15 07/23/02 Tue
"Faramir, please come in," Eomer indicated with his hand for his brother-in-law to sit down.
"It has been far too long. I am so glad our paths have crossed once again, though I regret that I shall not be in Minas Tirith for long. Lothiriel is again with child and I wish her to be resting for the next few months, preferably in her own home."
Faramir settled himself down on one of the rather over stuffed chairs. He hated this room. Dull and dark- with memories that lurched out at him from time to time. It always happened around now. Tomorrow was Boromirs birthday. He’d always get agitated, angry and emotional around it. Only Eowyn knew how he felt about it- when he was with her everything melted away, like all his other cares.
She was beautiful. Her long blonde hair, now delicately braided fell about her shoulders, glowing as if it had caught the final moments of sunset. Her eyes sparkled like two diamonds set in the smoothest jet, and when he looked into them, they went on forever. He was so proud of her, everything she did, he was so proud that she was his wife. She, Eowyn, had chosen to spend her life with him, Faramir. He’d always been the younger son, second best, subsequently likely to get the second best girl. But that was wrong. She was seconded to no other woman in the world.
Right at that moment came a quick rapping knock on the door, startling the king and steward alike.
"Who is it and may they enter slightly more quietly?" the ruffled king spoke.
Again it was the nervous long-haired youth. In his hand there was a piece of parchment, folded over with a golden seal.
"A..a..a message from his M..m..majesty King Elessar." The valet stuttered practically flinging the note at Eomer, who slit it open.
The King requires the prescence of all officials living in or visiting the city and residing within his state rooms at this time. They are to be present in the throne room in the castle centre before sunset today.
Eomer read the note carefully before passing it to Faramir who shook his head bewildered.
“I overheard something about a meeting in the throne room on my way here. I don’t have any idea what it’s about though. I told you Aragorn was missing and I can’t think who can have called it if I didn’t”
For a second time the king spoke to the nervous boy.
"Valet; please would you be so kind as to fetch a nanny or healer to care for Elfwine this evening. I must go and wake my wife. Then we shall depart for the throne room with the Steward and Stewardess. You may go."
Eomer had never seen anyone look so relieved in his entire life and the valet hurtled himself through the doorway. Before he could go and get her, Lothiriel came out of the bedroom, in a clean dress with her hair brushed carefully into place. She smiled gently and offered her hand towards Eowyn.
"I am so glad you're here. I don't think I could stand being stuck in Minas Tirith without another woman to talk with." Lothiriel's voice was quiet and calming, washing over Eomer. He couldn't help grinning stupidly to himself, before a small smirk from Eowyn caused him to blush slightly and look away.
"Shouldn't we be going now?" Eomer wanted to get to the throne room as soon as possible, so as not to catch Aragorn in a bad mood.
The four of them set off along the many curving passageways, talking cheerily about the last time they had met. Eomer was pleased to see that Eowyn and Lothiriel were getting on well, and felt content enough to talk about more important subjects with Faramir, such as the king's current status.
"Arwen left him?"
"I don't know for certain although rumours tell he is bedding a young servant girl. I wish someone could get him to see what he is doing, not only to himself - but all of his peers and citizens as well." Faramir sighed, "But I doubt a single soul in the city could knock some sense into him."
"'Tis a great shame indeed. I believed it to be true love, or love enough for Arwen to give up her immortality. Elves do not give into their hearts easily as a whole." Eomer shook his golden head grieviously. It felt so unlike Aragorn to do such a thing.
Soon they came to the very centre of Minas Tirith and a large wooden door. The king reached forward and held it open as Lothiriel, his sister and Faramir walked in. As he turned to follow them, a shocking sight met his eyes.
There, nearly on the throne itself, grew a tree. A huge tree that strangled itself hundreds of times over, curving through it's own branches and oozing a thick, dark liquid.
A sturdy mallorn tree had sprouted from the ancient throne, a sickly soft scent covered the room.
The fragrant flowers mixed with the reeking stench of blood.
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