GONDOR’S REJUVENATION

In a half-sleep daze, Eowyn rolled on her side and reached across the bed searching blindly for the familiar shape of her husband’s body. Finding nothing, she discovered she was alone in the bed.

 

Her eyes opened and with the full moonlight to guide her, she searched the large bedroom for her missing husband. She checked Faramir's side of the bed, attempting to learn how long he had been gone. Judging from the coolness of the sheets she determined he must have been up quite awhile.

 

She tossed the bed covers away and grabbed her robe as she hurried to the door. She knew exactly where she would find Faramir. Since being crowned Prince of Ithilien and establishing their home in Emyn Arnen, her husband's private study had become the place to discuss anything involving Ithilien. Lately, every citizen in the new fiefdom demanded Faramir's attention, no matter the hour.

 

Not that she blamed anyone who desired to live in Ithilien - it was simply breathtaking. Growing up in Rohan, Eowyn had heard tales of Ithilien's isolated beauty, but not until Faramir took her to see some of his favorite landmarks did she truly appreciate the land that would become her new home.

 

She loved Ithilien and Ithilien loved her. It seemed as if the land itself thrived under her care. Gardening had become second nature to her, surprising not only herself, but her husband and Legolas as well.

 

With Ithilien’s unmatched beauty and a well-respected and loved prince to govern it, the fiefdom was becoming the desired place to rebuild war-torn lives. Almost daily, Faramir was petitioned by friends or family members to relocate them to Ithilien. While Eowyn never heard him deny anyone passage to their land, problems surfaced with a growing and diverse population.

 

With the war over, many men faced the harsh reality that Gondor no longer needed their services. Having no means of support or any skills, angry inhabitants quickly turned on the new arrivals to Gondor. They blamed the dwarves and elves for taking jobs and lands way from those dismissed from the military.

 

Faramir and King Elessar quickly prevented the problem from escalating by brokering several secret trade deals with the powerful fiefdom lords. In return, the lords offered generous sections of farmland to the thousands of former soldiers and their families.

 

Both king and steward believed they had solved the problem. A large population had amalgamated into Gondorian society, and the fiefdom lords appeared patriotic by rewarding their countrymen who had served Gondor heroically.

 

The king quietly negotiated another deal with the homesteaders and farmers who had returned to the Pelennor Fields. In return for accepting the dwarves as temporary neighbors, they were given tax breaks.

 

Everything went back to normal, or what Gondorians considered normal, until the day Faramir announced he was granting a group of Mirkwood Elves permission to establish a new settlement in Ithilien. The decision was expected, knowing the growing friendship between Legolas and Faramir, but resentment grew when the Lord of Emyn Arnen expanded the settlement to reach the Crossing of Poros.

 

Many considered the decision a sacrilege, dishonoring the tomb of Folcred and Fastred at Haudh in Gwanur, until Legolas revealed that the elves desired to restore the place of honor to its former glory. Apologies were accepted, but once they were alone, Legolas revealed to the Ithilien prince and princess that he felt hatred from some who had only moments before begged his forgiveness. The Prince of Mirkwood predicted trouble in Ithilien's near future.

 

It did not take long for Legolas' premonition to bear fruit.

 

A week later, a fire destroyed several structures being built by the elves. A month later, a nearby dam was destroyed, flooding a different part of the new settlement. Nearby residents were questioned but no one had seen anything suspicious, and the lack of a suspect, or as Legolas firmly believed, suspects, quickly strained the fragile relationships between the residents and their elven neighbors.

 

Now with Faramir inside his study at such a late hour, Eowyn couldn't help but wonder if something else had happened at the elves’ settlement, and if so, were the elves threatening to retaliate?

 

As she approached the closed oak door, Eowyn could hear voices coming from inside the sealed room. One she recognized as belonging to her husband, but it was a second voice, one that was angry and unknown, that alarmed her. She started to reach for a dagger that was kept hidden under a potted plant until she detected Legolas' voice advising the stranger to calm down or face banishment.

 

With a heavy sigh of relief, Eowyn decided to make her presence known. She knocked on the door, calling her husband’s name.

 

The door opened quickly and her husband stood before her, concern deeply etched across his face. “Eowyn, are you ill? Should I send...”

 

“Be at ease, my husband. All is well,” she said, easing his fears. Since announcing her pregnancy two months ago, Faramir worried constantly about her safety and made sure she wanted for nothing. The house staff had been doubled to make certain her requests were met as quickly as possible.

 

Eowyn glanced at Legolas, smiled briefly at the elf that had become almost like a brother to her husband, and then turned her attention to the stranger.

 

"This is Galion, my father's personal butler," Legolas said, introducing the older elf to her. Galion bowed slightly in her direction as Legolas continued. "He brings news of another attack on our settlement."

 

"There are injuries," Galion replied bitterly, surprising everyone in the room. The elf was unlike any other Eowyn had met before. Galion appeared to have a chip on his shoulder, almost hostile towards those not born of elven blood. He turned to Legolas. "None were killed, but several are demanding retribution against those who attacked our settlement."

 

"Galion, I have my suspicions as to who is behind these acts, but without proof arresting them is impossible." Faramir pleaded with the hostile elf. “I need time to gather evidence and then I will bring these men to justice.”

 

"You have had three weeks, Prince of Men. I believe the reason you have yet to find a suspect is because you have no desire to find one," Galion replied vindictively. The elf turned his hostilities on the Prince of Mirkwood. "King Thranduil, your father, will not be pleased when he receives my message. While he gave consent for this settlement you desired, he never would have approved if he had known the danger you and our people face in Ithilien."

 

"You are quick to misjudge an entire race for the actions of a few, Galion. You have done this in the past. Need I remind you of the consequence then?" Legolas asked in an accusing tone.

 

Galion turned away, knowing the prince was referring to the incident that happened in Mirkwood many years ago. While drunk, several dwarves had escaped under his watch. He had foolishly believed dwarves were not intelligent enough to outsmart him.

 

The mistake caused the proud elf to be ridiculed for years, resulting in his developing a deep-rooted resentment towards non-elven races. Legolas did not need Galion’s bigotry now. Too much was at stake. He placed a gentle but firm hand on the butler’s shoulder. "You are my father's most loyal servant, but not even you will insult my friends. I value their loyalty as my father values yours. Have I made myself clear?"

 

Galion bowed in understanding. He turned to the two humans and in a humble voice apologized. "Forgive me. I reacted out of anger and fear. If, Lord Prince Faramir, you still desire my help, I offer my services to you to find these renegades."

 

"Apology accepted, Galion,” Faramir said, offering his hand to the elf. Galion clasped it and the tension in the large room quickly eased. "I would welcome your insight. Legolas tells me that you have the eyesight of an eagle. Perhaps with your gift we may capture those who have become a thorn in both our sides."

 

The elf nodded. "Prince Legolas exaggerates. I, however, accept your offer to help."

 

Eowyn folded her arms against her chest. "Now that you men..." the two elves glanced at her, either feigning or actually insulted by her choice of words. With a hearty laugh, she corrected herself. "Now that you males have decided to call a truce, I shall return to my bed." She turned to leave only to have her husband take her hand gently. Eowyn smiled, knowing what Faramir was thinking. "You need not accompany me to our room, my husband. However, I do request a favor."

 

"You have only to ask, my lady," he responded, squeezing her hand affectionately. “What is it that you need?”

 

"Should another incident occur and you are unexpectedly taken from my bed, please inform your wife." She reached up and caressed Faramir's cheek. "I found no joy in awakening to discover my beloved husband gone and with no knowledge of where he went."

 

"I did not wish to disturb you, Eowyn. You need your sleep, especially in your condition." No sooner had Faramir spoken the last word, he realized his mistake. Eowyn requested not to be treated differently because she was pregnant. If they were to have that discussion again, Eowyn would not hesitate letting others know her feelings as well. He wisely relented. "Very well, it will never happen again, my lady."

 

Legolas attempted to hide a smile, finding amusement at Faramir’s expense. Eowyn was determined to teach the witty elf a lesson as well. “Legolas, when I discovered you were the one who had disturbed my sleep, I expected you had found the elusive black emperor butterfly. I see you do not have it.”

 

The smile quickly faded from Legolas’ face. “Eowyn, you ask much. I have not had the time to visit Mirkwood, nor the chance….”

 

“Eowyn, careful. Legolas believes you are serious,” Faramir said, raising her hand to his lips. When their eyes met, he kissed her hand, and Eowyn felt her cheeks burning. How this man, raised in the harshness of war, could display such open affection and gentleness amazed her. He treated her with such tenderness that she often wondered if she were living a dream. If so, she hoped never to awaken from it.

 

“If you would excuse me,” she said, smiling at the two speechless elves as her husband escorted her from the room. If she permitted it, Faramir would have taken her back to their bedroom. “No, my husband,” she said, turning to face him. “You are prince of this realm. Our people’s needs come first.” With a quick embrace, Eowyn headed back down the hallway.

-----------------

Faramir waited until his wife had disappeared down the hall before he closed the door and returned to the business before him. Legolas had arrived an hour ago, but before the Prince of Mirkwood could announce the reason behind the unplanned visit, Galion arrived, disturbing everyone within earshot with accusations against the realm of men.

 

Legolas had tried unsuccessfully to lure the elder elf back to the settlement, and it wasn’t until the elven prince threatened Galion with banishment did the butler realize he was treading on dangerous ground.

 

Faramir desperately wanted to speak with Legolas in private, but Galion’s arrival made that impossible now. A plan to uncover the rebels was already in motion and he had only to await news from one of his most loyal officers to enact it.

 

A knock interrupted his thoughts. Believing Eowyn had returned, Faramir hurried to the door. Beregond stood in the threshold holding a piece of paper in his hand. "Enter Captain," he instructed, stepping aside to allow the officer in the room. "You have news?"

 

"Aye, my lord," Beregond answered, quickly giving Faramir the paper. "Damrod's messenger just arrived. As you instructed, I have delivered it with the most urgency."

 

Faramir read the message and then tossed it into the burning fireplace. "My thanks to you, Beregond. Provide the necessary supplies for the courier, and give him my thanks for a job well done.”

 

“As you ordered, my lord prince.” Beregond bowed and then started to leave.

 

“Captain Beregond,” Faramir called after the guard. Beregond turned and faced him, a look of seriousness on his face. He walked across the floor, meeting the loyal captain. “Send a message to the king. I have sanctioned more land for the elves.”

 

“Aye, my lord. I shall instruct a courier immediately.”

 

“After the courier has been sent, you may take a leave of two weeks,” Faramir said, smiling at the stunned captain. He had known Beregond’s younger brother had arrived a few days ago on a two-week leave in Ithilien. “Perhaps now you may enjoy your brother's visit. Six months is too long for two brothers to remain apart."

 

A smile quickly spread across the captain’s face. “Thank you, Prince Faramir. There is much about which Iorlas and I must reminisce."

 

As Beregond closed the door, Faramir walked to his desk, pulled out a map and beckoned the elves closer. He pointed to several locations surrounding the outskirts of the elven settlement. "Several of my seasoned rangers have posted small groups of men in these locations. If anyone moves into these areas, they will alert me of their whereabouts. We have set our trap, now we must wait for the prey to arrive."

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The Next Evening

 

Beregond stared across the River Anduin watching as night descended upon Minas Tirith. The tower of Ecthelion, now engulfed in moonlight, appeared as a white marble beacon, guiding those towards the white city.

 

Though he could only see two of the seven towers, he knew the nightly ritual of the lighting of the lamps had begun.

 

After he became captain of Faramir’s elite guard and moved to Ithilien, Beregond thought he would miss the activity of Minas Tirith. Upon his first night in the newly declared princedom, all doubts were dispelled and Beregond realized he had become part of history and the rebuilding of Ithilien.

 

Behind him several guards moved across the newly built courtyard that now connected the white house with other structures. The sounds of building were nonstop, even at this late hour. What was happening in Ithilien, especially Emyn Arnen, was miraculous.

 

A cool gentle breeze blew in from the river and Beregond glanced upwards and stared at the constellations. How things had changed in just a short time. Had he remained in Minas Tirith, he and his two sons would have spent much of the night stargazing. However the war had changed his sons’ priorities.

 

Bergil at one time had wanted to become an herbalist, but now had chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the White Company when he came of age. When the family moved to Ithilien, Borlas discovered the lure of the water. Beregond smiled to himself. His youngest would prefer to watch ships moving along the Anduin than eat.

 

“Enjoying the night?” he heard his brother ask. Beregond turned. Iorlas stood with a glass of wine in each hand. He offered him one while staring at their surroundings.

 

Beregond took the glass. “Now you understand the reason I moved to Ithilien.”

 

“I assumed it was your devotion to Prince Faramir,” Iorlas answered. He glanced across the river looking at the white city. After a long moment of silence, Iorlas said, “You cast a long shadow in the citadel, my brother. Many still speak of your bravery and courage against Lord Denethor’s madness.”

 

“I did what any loyal Guard of the Citadel would have done,” the elder brother said, recalling the last moments of the late steward’s life. “Lord Denethor was not himself. How it pained me to witness his descent into madness. If Faramir had perished in those flames, Gondor would have lost everything.”

 

At the mention of Faramir’s name, Iorlas’ demeanor changed. “Beregond, I know how well you respect Prince Faramir, but there are rumors…” he paused, glanced over his shoulder, and then lowered his voice. “Have you heard what happened during the last fiefdom council?”

 

“Last council was six months ago, my brother,” Beregond declared. “What troubles you over a council…”

 

“There were accusations leveled at Prince Faramir,” Iorlas answered. “Some accused him of being bewitched by the elves.”

 

“Who dares make such an outrageous statement?”

 

“Outrageous? Lord Denethor made such a statement. Thus the reason the captain-general was sent to Rivendell.”

 

“It’s a slanderous lie! Boromir made the decision, not the steward! The captain-general believed the journey to be long and dangerous; therefore, he demanded the task himself. As heir, Boromir claimed it was his right.” Beregond angrily paced the length of the balcony’s railing. “For as long as I can remember, Faramir’s courage has always been questioned. He was never judged on his own merits. How quickly they forget his bravery during the war.”

 

“None question his bravery, brother.”

 

“Then why should jealous idle gossip concern you?”

 

Iorlas sighed deeply. “Beregond, I will not hide my feelings. I do not like these strange beings living in Gondor and taking our lands.”

 

“Taking our lands?” Beregond asked, surprised at his brother’s absurd statement. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be angry. “These strange beings as you call them are the king’s friends and have offered their services to Gondor. We should be thankful for their generosity instead of finding fault.”

 

“Our lands are being seized. You have only to look at Ithilien to realize this. Only this morning, you said the prince wants to give more land to the elves. Why? Do they need another settlement so quickly?”

 

“Prince Legolas and the elves have been Ithilien’s salvation. If you were not so judgmental, you would realize how much they have accomplished here in such a short time. The same has been said of the dwarves working in Minas Tirith. None in Gondor could match their success in such a short time.”

 

“The dwarves and elves could take turns making the white tree grow in Mordor and it would not matter to some, especially to those who mistrust them. Many remain resentful over the decision to give away our lands to these creatures.” Iorlas then revealed what had taken place in council. “King Elessar abruptly ended the meeting because of the outrage.”

 

Beregond was stunned. Faramir had not told him. Then again, Beregond had not asked, and the prince was not the type to gossip. Iorlas, on the other hand, could never keep a secret. “What happened?”

 

“Remember, I mentioned someone had accused Prince Faramir of being bewitched by the elves?”

 

Beregond nodded, wanting to know the origin of the vicious rumor.

 

“Lord Golasgil said it. He accused Faramir of being under an elven spell. He also demanded every elf and dwarf expelled from Gondor. Had Lord Duinhir not held Prince Imrahil, the prince of Dol Amroth would have struck Lord Golasgil for the insult. King Elessar was so outraged that he threatened sanctions against anyone who insulted his friends, their people, or their families.”

 

“Golasgil insulted the elves! In the king’s presence!” Beregond asked, shocked that a powerful fiefdom lord who bravely fought in the war would speak such ignorance in public. Golasgil had known the king’s relationship with them. What was the man thinking? “Has Golasgil become a fool?”

 

“Fool or not, Golasgil’s opinion is shared by others,” Iorlas admitted. “When the dwarfs were given a parcel of the Pelennor Fields and the elves given Ithilien land, they believed the descendants of the rightful owners were slighted.”

 

“Another vicious rumor, Iorlas. The descendants of those who did not wish to return to Ithilien have been richly compensated. The dwarves are only temporary residents on the Pelennor Fields. Master Gimli desires to return to the Glimmering Caves once the work is completed in Minas Tirith. Those who live nearby know this.”

 

“Perhaps it is you, my brother, who has heard rumors. When I traveled to Ithilien, I overheard a conversation between two men. They were plotting to drive the dwarves and elves from our lands using any means possible.”

 

“They speak treason,” the former guard of the citadel declared.

 

“They believed they are being loyal to Gondor,” his brother countered.

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