Long years of living had not taught Aragorn how to soothe and reassure, to heal the pain that lingered in Eowyn's eyes and the insecurity that still tugged at Faramir's heart. Aragorn's healer hands were for the body alone, but there was not a day that went by that he wished emotional wounds would weep and bleed like physical ones, such that the poultices and bandage knots he knew would be of some use.
But he chased those thoughts away once more. There was little he could do now. As King he could not heal every Man he came across, no matter how much he wished to. More than he ever thought he would when he was a Ranger still, Aragorn trusted in the strength hidden in the hearts of Men.
"I hope your garden live up to your words, Faramir," a teasing tone wove itself into his words. "For now I am filled with anticipation for what I might see."
He paused before he nodding, "Arwen is well, aye. She could not leave Minas Tirith at the moment for the repairs to the White Tower is reaching its heights, and she wishes to oversee it."
Faramir could not help the bittersweet smile that rose to his lips then, at the mention of Minas Tirith and its White Tower - for while Ithilien was now his home the City of Kings would forever hold a place in his heart. "I am glad to hear it," he said lightly, "and I do not doubt that it will flourish well under the Queen's care." How he longed to see it once more, to govern its repairs as his father had, long ago - yet Faramir knew it was no longer his place, for his role as the Steward is naught while the King was on his throne.
He opened the door, then waited for Aragorn to go before him. The garden would live up to Aragorn's expectations, this he knew. Éowyn had given it much of her love and attention, and the garden had responded in kind. He was proud of his wife's work - proud enough to let the greatest of men see it for himself.
I MEAN IT /hides under the table
But he chased those thoughts away once more. There was little he could do now. As King he could not heal every Man he came across, no matter how much he wished to. More than he ever thought he would when he was a Ranger still, Aragorn trusted in the strength hidden in the hearts of Men.
"I hope your garden live up to your words, Faramir," a teasing tone wove itself into his words. "For now I am filled with anticipation for what I might see."
He paused before he nodding, "Arwen is well, aye. She could not leave Minas Tirith at the moment for the repairs to the White Tower is reaching its heights, and she wishes to oversee it."
YOUR ARAGORN IS A *DREAM* THERE I SAID IT
He opened the door, then waited for Aragorn to go before him. The garden would live up to Aragorn's expectations, this he knew. Éowyn had given it much of her love and attention, and the garden had responded in kind. He was proud of his wife's work - proud enough to let the greatest of men see it for himself.