Immortalitui // Faramir 🥀

Chapter Thirty-Three - News

Word Count: 1,256 words. 

Warnings: Short filler because I didn't want to clump it with the next chapter for plot reasons. 

"He is strong," Arathiel told Éoywn as she checked on Théodred's wounds. They were healing slowly, but the infection was taking over. No matter how many times she tried to use what Elven strength she had left, Arathiel could not stop the spread.

Her mind returned to Boromir, knowing that had she been strong enough, she could have saved him. If she had chosen her Elven nature long ago, none of this would have happened. It was her humanity that was seduced by Sauron and without her, his rise would not have been as devastating.

"There is a girl in the village," Éoywn began, brushing the stray hairs from the prince's head. "She has been asking after him and his health. He talked of her once, and I could have sworn that she was the only thing that mattered in all of Middle Earth."

Arathiel sighed, sitting back in her chair and resting her head on her hand. Her elbow touched the wall and the she-elf wanted only to press her skin against the cold stone of the room. The elf had not slept since her arrival in Rohan.

"That is what love does," she told the young woman. "It consumes you."

"Do you know love?" Éowyn asked, noting how Arathiel refused to meet her gaze.

"Love is meaningless," she tried, but knew that she was lying. "It is impractical."

The young woman did not miss the elf's tone. "You love one you cannot have then?"

It was clear that she would not let the conversation go and Arathiel shook her head, taking the small Gondorian pouch from her pocket. She brushed her thumb over the handmade seal.

"I denied him," she admitted. "I told him that I did not care and I sincerely hoped that he believed it... His brother explained that no such thing had occurred. Not yet at least."

"What use is there denying it?" Éowyn posed and Arathiel met her gaze. "Why not abandon your defences?"

The she-elf hesitated. "There is no future for us."

"But there is a present," she corrected, "and should we not all live in the present?"

A loud knock interrupted the two women and Éowyn opened it. A solider, clearly out of breath, stood with his hands behind his back.

"My lady," he greeted, then turning to Arathiel. She remained as she was. "My lady."

"What is it?" Éowyn rushed. "Has something happened?"

He nodded. "There is a Rider in the Hall," he explained. "One that was banished."

At the hope that it may be her returning brother, Éowyn rushed from the room. Arathiel stood slowly, approaching the man at the door.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Thenfric, my lady."

"You did not have to tell us of the Rider's arrival, Thenfric."

He glanced at the way that Éoywn had gone. "She has been worried for days and so..."

"You rushed to her the moment you heard?" Arathiel finished and he nodded.

He hesitated, swallowing and stepping aside so that it would be easier for the elf to leave. "I do not like to see her sad, my lady."

"I fear that there will be no amount of sadness in the coming days," Arathiel added, casting her eyes back to Théodred. "Care for the prince while I am gone."

He nodded firmly. "Of course, my lady."

ᵜᵜᵜᵜᵜ

"What is the meaning of this?" Arathiel questioned as she entered, noting the bloodied man on the ground. Beside him stood a soldier in identical armour, but they were certainly nothing alike.

"He must die!" Théoden screamed, pointing at him.

The soldier moved to attack again. "He will not!" Arathiel returned, catching the spear he held and holding firmly. "This man has done nothing wrong."

"He has entered the kingdom after his banishment," Grima attempted to argue.

The she-elf looked at him calmly. "Have you asked why he is here? Men of Rohan, especially its Riders are honourable and courageous but not reckless," – her words bit the air – "Perhaps you may listen to you subjects, Théoden, before you issue their death warrant."

When her eyes turned to the King, he was watching the elf with a sidewards glance. He was fading, and she could feel it.

"What is your business here Rider?" she asked as the soldier took a step back and the banished man stood.

"There are orcs," he warned, "at the borders. My Commander Éomer believes they may be priming to attack Rohan."

Arathiel sighed, casting a glance to Éowyn. Her hands by her mouth, she watched the room frightened. Her worry for both her brother and the kingdom were clear, Arathiel's less apparent. Her fear was large regardless.  

"There are no orcs surrounding us," Grima attempted, approaching quickly. "We would know about it."

"What would you know about orcs Wormtongue?" Arathiel asked. "I highly doubt you have ever fought one before."

"I have seen them – "

"We have all seen orcs," she cut him off, stepping away from the solider to approach the King's Hand. "We have not all killed them. Some have even... chose to join them."

His eyes faltered for a moment as he returned to the King's side. "We are not in need of help."

"I would like to hear the King say that," the she-elf continued, "not his council."

Leaning close, Grima began to whisper in Théoden's ear. The aged King straightened and if his eyes could become more glazed, they did.

"No help," he managed.

Knowing that it would be his answer, Arathiel faced the young Rider. "Take me to your camp, I shall survey and see what we can do to counter attack before they can reach the walls." He nodded feverently.

"You have no right to help them!" Grima told her. "They are not your people."

"I have the right to defend the innocent," Arathiel countered, "and I do not need your permission to do so. You, nor Théoden are my King."

Éowyn rushed to her side, grasping her hand. "You cannot leave. Théodred needs you."

Arathiel lowered her voice. "If the Orcs attack the city, there will be no Riders to help and the soldiers that remain are mediocre in their skill. I must stop them before they realise that. You must not let Grima near Théodred."

She nodded. "I shall try, but I cannot stop him if her persists."

"I find that if you hit him with something heavy, he may just change his mind." Arathiel attempted a smile and although Éowyn returned it, it did not reach her eyes.