One (Wedding) Ring to Rule Them All

Chapter 26

              The morning of the wedding had dawned, and things were going about as well as could be expected, which meant that Minas Tirith had fallen into utter chaos. Aragorn had spent the first two hours locked in his room, frantically pacing back and forth and refusing to let anyone inside until Boromir had threatened to knock down the door. At first, Legolas slyly suggested Aragorn had simply drank too much the night before, but upon seeing the usually stern and composed man curled up on the bed and muttering about "Maybe she doesn't really want to marry me" they decided it was simply pre-wedding jitters.

"Of course she loves you," Legolas said easily. "She doesn't act this idiotic for anyone else."

"But how could she love someone like me?" Aragorn implored from beneath several pillows.

"I think you should be more concerned with the fact that she accepted your proposal of marriage," Faramir sighed, tugging the pillows free from Aragorn's grasp. "This is simply cold feet."

"I love her," Aragorn said brokenly, staring glumly out of the window.

"Good thing you're marrying her, then," Boromir said stoutly. "Come on. We have a long day ahead of us, and you look as if you haven't bathed in a week. At least clean up for your future bride."

Faramir watched bemusedly as Legolas practically wrestled Aragorn into a nearby bathtub, Boromir shouting threats about cutting off Aragorn's entire head of hair if he didn't get it washed. Faramir leaned back, grinning at his friends' antics. A wistful part of him wondered what it might be like if he ever had a wedding day. Would Boromir be knocking down his door? Would he have cold feet?

An unbidden vision of Eowyn dressed in white, a genuine smile beaming from her face, flashed across his consciousness. He cleared his throat, pulling his attention back to the moment and away from the distraction. It was a dream, nothing more – even if it was a very nice dream.

He wondered about her; ever since her uncle had come to rest and heal at Minas Tirith he felt uncertain if Eowyn actually fared any better. Certainly, he was relieved to have chased any notion of marriage from Wormtongue's mind, but she still wore that same haunted expression. He desperately wanted to find a way to bring some joy back to her, but he knew she would have to be ready to look for it in the first place. Faramir had his own troubles, wondering how he could possibly find a way to undermine his father's desperate clawing for power and control. After the wedding, he knew other eyes in the country would turn to Minas Tirith, wondering why Aragorn had not yet claimed his rightful ownership. And why should he not? After all, he was the rightful ruler and lord of these lands. Even if he was looking less than dignified at the moment while Legolas threatened him with a hairbrush.

"You seem deep in thought," Boromir rumbled, nudging Faramir in the ribs.

"We need to talk about Father's plans," Faramir sighed heavily. "I know today is a day of joy, and I do not mean to darken it. But the issue must be addressed sooner rather than later."

"I had my doubts at first," Boromir sighed, "but I can see he is slipping further into madness. I think it may fall upon our shoulders to draw him from his stewardship, and let Aragorn ascend."

Faramir laughed wryly. "And then I shall be free from all responsibilities of a lordling, I suppose."

Aragorn shot him a sharp glance from where he stood near a mirror, trying on his wedding jacket. "You know that I wish for both of you to stay by my side," he said gravely. "Especially in the transition period. I have never had any intention of unseating you from your home."