For drinkupmehearties

[shieldofrohan]

The door to Jack's cell opens just before dawn. Éowyn stands there, dressed for riding - breeches under her gown, her hair braided back close to her scalp - and looks at him for a moment, hand on hip, before beckoning for his things to be brought. His sword will be given back to him: his gun will not. She knows, after all, that if it comes to a fight with swords, she is a more than equal match for him, but her experiences in the Capitol have let her know just how dangerous a gun can be in the wrong hands.

Outside, the horses are waiting. She has chosen a mare for him, docile and easy to ride, with a high saddle that should be easy to stay in. Even with their experience in the Arena, she's loath to trust his riding. There's a big difference between staying in the saddle for an hour or so with adrenaline pumping through your veins, and staying in the saddle for the long day's ride that lies ahead of them.

Her own horse, of course, gives her no such worries. The grey stallion has borne her well since the Pelennor Fields, and she's more comfortable in his saddle than she could ever be with both feet on the ground. As they head out into the courtyard, he raises his head and whickers at her, making her smile.

Faramir stands beside the horses, though he is not dressed for travel. As she approaches, he goes to meet her, ignoring Jack for the moment as he ducks his head to kiss her. "You are sure of this?"

"I am sure," she answers, with a fond smile, and leans up to kiss him in return. "Do not linger here too long, love. Emyn Arnen is not nearly so fair without you in it."

He laughs, low in his throat, and traces his fingertips over her cheek. "How can it be made fairer by my presence, when you are already there to illuminate it?" Straightening up with a kiss to her forehead, he smiles. "I will be a few days, no more. Travel well, my lady. And for my sake, if you should see an enemy, ride away, and not towards them."

Éowyn smiles, shaking her head, and pulls away. "Jack, do you need help mounting, or can you manage?"

Comments

it has an l-plate hanging from the back clearly

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn nods, vaulting into the saddle. "Go well," she tells Faramir, guiding her horse around so she can lean in to kiss his forehead. "And do not work too hard. Do you hear me?"

He smiles, taking her hand for a moment. "I hear you," he says, kissing her knuckles, and pulls away. "Ride well, both of you. And good fortune to you, Captain. I doubt not that we shall meet again ere long."

right below the huge CAUTION sign

[drinkupmehearties]

Jack shifts in his saddle, a touch fidgety as he waits, then gives a nod when Faramir speaks to him. "As I'm sure. Thanks very much."

While he's not in any way keen to travel further away from the sea or his ship — provided the Pearl wasn't already back out on the water in the hands of another captain — Jack is eager to leave. He's spent longer in jail cells, months even, but that didn't temper the restless agitation that came with captivity.

He straightens a little in his seat, sweeping his hand out. "By your leave, my lady. Lead the way."

[shieldofrohan]

If Éowyn is honest with herself, it's a little gratifying to have him address her as my lady, rather than Éowyn or luv. It's a reassuring reminder that this is not Panem, and things are not as they were between them. She gives him a little smile, nodding, and nudges her horse into a walk.

Only the two of them are riding: that may be a sign that they put some faith in Jack, or only that they put a great deal of it in Éowyn. She brings her horse around, heading out of the courtyard and down the cobbled street, and turns to wave goodbye to Faramir as they leave.

She doesn't speak for a while, not until they have walked the horses down through the seven levels of the city - past stalls and stores, through a throng of citizens who smile and wave or bow to Éowyn - and out through the front gates, onto the Pelennor Fields. Even then, it's a couple of minutes before she turns to look at him. "This is where it happened," she tells him, conversationally. "The great battle I told you of."

[drinkupmehearties]

Jack nudges the heels of his boots to the horse's side, urging the mare to follow along beside Eowyn. He's at ease in the silence as they navigate down the streets, using the time to quietly survey the city unfolding around them.

He's marveling a little, in part, at the sights. But it'd be a lie to say that he wasn't also studying the circuits and alleyways of the city, memorizing the path back to where they were. The thought has already crossed his mind to sneak off, circle back, see if he could figure out a way to free his crew and take it from there. But there are too many eyes on them as they pass, and soon enough they're out of the gates and the possibility passes.

"Ah. The one with the Witch-King," He answers as their horses trot along, his eyes roaming the fields that stretch out around them. It's an absurd feeling, he muses, to think of the conversation they'd had in the Arena, to think that he hadn't ever expected to find himself in this place. He's not quite homesick, as there wasn't much back home that Jack desired besides the Pearl. But it's a strange thought nonetheless.

"The adoration that lot was throwing your way is well-deserved, judgin' by that song."

[shieldofrohan]

She smiles a little, shrugging her good shoulder. "Perhaps," she says, a little dryly, "but I fear that on my own account, I should not be half so beloved. Faramir is dearer to his people's hearts than ever I could be." For a moment, she rides on in silence, worrying thoughtfully at her lip. At last, in a lower and more serious tone: "You see, having met him, why I could not wish to hurt him? He is a good man. I thought... I thought I could face him with the truth, and have him understand. But when I am... when I could have told him of what passed between us, all I could think was that he has not earned such treachery."

[drinkupmehearties]

He falls into the same silence with her, listening to the horse's hooves steadily strike the ground. When she speaks Jack doesn't meet her gaze, choosing instead to continue looking out over the fields as if there's something immensely interesting out in the grass.

"Aye, he's a good man. There's no doubt in that." Made of better stuff than himself, at any rate. That wasn't hard to tell after meeting the man.

Eventually Jack drags his gaze over to her, his expression level. "There ain't a good reason for him to know the truth an' put him through that hurt." Particularly when his freedom and life might be tied to Faramir's ignorance on the matter. A beat passes and Jack presses his lips together, then continues, "It weren't nothing more than a diversion from all the madness we went through. It didn't mean anything. And so there'd be no use in telling him about it."

[shieldofrohan]

She wants to believe that. She wants to let that guide her, to trust that ignorance is bliss and that he will never find out. Maybe Jack is even right, and this fear of discovery which has plagued her since Jack's appearance is only another artefact of her guilt.

But she knows Faramir, and she knows that he values truth highly, perhaps the most highly. It's hard to reconcile that with lying to him, even lying by omission. There's nobody in the world she's less willing to keep things from.

"It meant nothing," she agrees at last, and sighs, looking ahead to the mountains in the distance. "In Panem, it meant nothing. When I was returned, it meant nothing. But with you here..." She shrugs, not looking at him. "I cannot say."

[drinkupmehearties]

He's unable to read her face as she looks away from him, and for a few moments Jack says nothing in return. He's never stayed long enough to deal with the inevitable fallout in situations like this; it's always been easier to vanish when things got tough, to pack up, sail away, and never deal with consequences or whatever else was left in the wake.

It made life much simpler.

Jack idly scratches a finger against the scruff on his chin, an absent-minded motion. "It's no different with me here." He's about to leave it at that, then pauses and ventures, "Is it?"

[shieldofrohan]

"I don't know." There's a tension in her tone, and in the line of her shoulders. She sighs again, leaning forwards to run her fingers through her horse's mane. It's reassuring, a reminder that she really is here, really is home. "Having you here makes it... harder to forget. Makes me wonder whether I ought to be trying."

It takes a lot of effort, and a lot of guts, to say. Éowyn can ride out against an army with barely a qualm, but something like this - such an admission of weakness, of feeling - is ten thousand times more difficult. Bad enough that she has to feel such things, without saying them aloud. But he asked, and she feels she owes him that much of an answer.

"It's naught to do with you," she says at last, slowly. "It's that place. You bring it back."

[drinkupmehearties]

His fingers tangle further into the reins at her response, gaze finally torn away from her and fixed on the steady bounce of the mare's neck as his horse ambles forward.

Jack nearly mirrors the sentiment, to admit that maybe it's been hard for him to forget too, lips parted to answer -- because gods it's been hard not to think of her since his return from Panem, even moreso now that they weren't worlds apart and she's physically here -- but she continues on and Jack quiets. Naught to do with him. Of course. Foolish of him to think.

"Aye. Hard not to be reminded of the vile place." He straightens in the saddle, looking ahead. "Mayhaps that'll fade in time."

[shieldofrohan]

"Perhaps," she agrees soberly, looking out at the horizon and taking a deep breath. "And perhaps not. Some things never do." An easy thing to think, out here, where the memory of older battles is always fresh. Maybe Panem is embedded in her now as deeply as the memory of the Witch-King, or the scream of horses and stench of blood.

Maybe they will fade in time, too.

She shakes the thought off, sighing. "In any case, it is past. And when the King is satisfied that you will harry his shores no more, I do not doubt that I and this land will return to the past for you, as well." There's a certain pang to that thought, one which is uncomfortable to admit to herself. For all their differences, and for all that she's trying to deny it, Jack was a close friend for a time when she needed it (and more than a friend, though that she's more enthusiastic to forget about), and it's oddly reassuring to have him here. To have someone else here who knows where they were, and what they went through.

[drinkupmehearties]

His thumb unwittingly brushes over the brand that mars the skin above his right wrist, tracing the raised letter that'll stay with him to his grave, then a few moments later his hand drops away. "Suppose I could grant that." Jack was exceedingly good at looking more to the future than the past, at moving on without dwelling or languishing. But, he knew, there were things that have left their marks on him in the process. No matter his efforts to pretend otherwise.

"But aye. Past is past." A beat passes, and Jack offers her a sidelong glance. "I would think, for all that, were I bringing such tormenting memories back, that you'd have been more keen to leave me to fate." There's a question in there; she had good reasons to leave him to waste away in that jail cell in Minas Tirith.

[shieldofrohan]

She doesn't acknowledge the question directly. Not for a moment, anyway. She just shrugs, and rides on in silence for a little way.

"The penalty," she says at last, suddenly, "is death. Your fate would have been death, had they decided that you were at fault. We are a land still recovering from war, Jack, and one which can ill-afford leniency against enemies who would do us harm." She turns her head, looking back at him, and shrugs one shoulder. "I was angry at you. I hated you, a little. But still, I owe you more than that, for you were a friend to me in need and that is no small matter."

[drinkupmehearties]

His lips part a little, a small hint of gold visible.  "By and large, that's most often the cost of the trade.  'A merry life and a short one', as they like to say."  Whatever the case was, Jack knew the heavy price that might be paid once the cannons of his ship went off.  He'd made his peace with that knowledge long ago.

Nonetheless, Jack dips his head in a short nod.  "But all the same, I've much to thank you for, then."  He allows a few moments to pass, taking in the scenery sprawled around them, seemingly hesitating.  "And much the same, your friendship in that place was no small matter to me either."  There'd been few people in Panem that Jack would've cared to keep from harm; she'd been one of them.

[shieldofrohan]

"Yet not a large enough matter to place me above their whims," she says tartly, and immediately shakes her head, irritated at herself. "My apologies. I ought not to have said that." Even if it is true. "I am glad that I meant something to you. No matter what may have come between us." There's still something a little stiff in her tone, but she does her best to ameliorate it with a smile and a change of subject. "A strange thought strikes me: that you have seen more of Gondor's seas than I. I have visited the coast but once."

[drinkupmehearties]

"It is beautiful." He doesn't expand on the subject, tone somewhat impassive. Instead, Jack settles his gaze back on her; she might be intent on throwing out that barb then changing the subject, but he's not content to let the remark go unacknowledged.

"On that matter, what would you have had me do, Eowyn? Throw meself at the Peacekeepers? Kill us both in the process?"

[shieldofrohan]

She's quiet for a moment. Then she turns in her saddle, fixing him with a long, hard look.

"Yes," she says at last, flatly. "Or at the very least, refuse them. Not capitulate, not crawl to them as your masters because they hold the sword above you. Better to die than to live that way, to give them all the power over you that they desired. And what good did it do you, for all that? We are in the same place now, you and I, and what availed your surrender? A few more days' life, a few more privileges granted that they might threaten to take from you?"

[drinkupmehearties]

His eyes narrow in return, mouth set in a hard line. "I think you forget that the lot o' them already had all the power over us, within Arenas and without, so what exactly would I have been giving up? A barren cell to stare out of, a gun shoved in me face anytime I took a breath or happened to glance the wrong way? Heavier shackles slapped about my wrists? I'd say it's better to live with a fair opportunity to change a situation, than die a foolish and useless death locked away in a cage." She's hit a sore spot with this, clearly.

"Tell me, what benefit did your imprisonment grant you, besides a puffed up chest and a reason to look down your nose at others?"

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn bristles at that, the more so because of his phrasing. As if she would have chosen to live in a cage, to be locked away from sun and sky and freedom, if she had seen any choice in it! Her anger shows in her voice, suddenly a great deal colder. "You speak of changing a situation, as if it were ever what was in your mind. As if you were serving some nobler cause than saving your own skin, as if you gave any thought to the plight of others in the choice you made. Do not do me the disservice of lying to me, Jack."

[drinkupmehearties]

He leans back into his saddle and tugs on the mare's reins, causing her to turn towards Eowyn's horse and slow her stride to a near halt. With this done, Jack levels a look at Eowyn.

"You're right on that. It was me own circumstances that I intended to change, not any one else's. You'll realize that I made no claim of any noble intentions in my choice." His expression is hard, stiff, and it's a tension that winds itself all the way to his shoulders. Of course, his first and foremost thought had been to find a way to save himself and come out on top; yet it's a lie to say that he hadn't mulled over ways to help the few people he'd cared about there. But he's not about to say that.

"I fail to see what I would've gained by putting myself in the same situation as you."

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn reins in her own horse, glaring at him full-force. "Of course you do. To see that would require honour, nobility. At the very least, pride. But you count such things lightly, do you not? Why account for duty or right, when you could wax fat on selfish cowardice?" She tilts her chin, looking down her nose at him. "Ought I to welcome that in you? To set aside doubt, and embrace that one I counted as a friend has all the nobility and humanity of the Capitol who kept us enslaved? Well, I cannot. I will not. Such forgiving nature is not in me."

[drinkupmehearties]

Jack scowls back at her, upper lip curled -- it looks like, for a moment, that he's about to retort in kind with the same vitriol. But then, ultimately, his mouth pulls in a cheerless smile. "Aye, truly, just the same as those that'd murder their own children and blood and lock chains on those that've never done them wrong. I've not a spit of humanity in me." His words are dry in tone, expression even.

"Don't strain yourself with the burden of forgivin', great noble lady. You've no reason to go against your nature, and I've no reason to go against mine, so don't waste the time. Doin' right has never done me much good anyhow." He ignores the mare shifting beneath him, and spreads out his hands. "Now, shall you tell me more about how despicable and loathsome and wretched I am? I've heard it all before, but I do always enjoy hearing more."

[shieldofrohan]

Her face hardens still further, and for a moment she looks as though she may spit at him, bring out more bile. Only for a moment. Then she looks away, and it is as though a veil passes across her face. "You're showing daylight at your seat," is all she says, her voice cool. "Relax your thighs, or you'll be more blister than man by the time we reach Ithilien." And she shifts in the saddle, nudging with her heels; as her horse starts forwards into a brisk trot, then a canter, she whistles sharply between her teeth so that Jack's mare knows to follow suit (whatever Jack himself might have to say about it).

Truth be told, she's sorry. Not forgiving, but sorry. He has a point - she was wrong to compare him to the Capitol, wrong to put him on anything like that level. Wrong, maybe, to expect anything else of him. But to admit that even to herself is a battle, and she won't even try to say it aloud. It would only come out wrong, and sour the air between them even more. Better to let it lie, let the hurt settle a while and see what comes of it. Better to let the wind in her hair and the sound of hoofbeats drown out the gall of guilt.

[drinkupmehearties]

Jack keeps his eyes locked with hers for those first few moments, openly inviting her to continue condemning and insulting him. When she instead turns away, the stony look gradually washes away into a tight frown and the pirate clenches his jaw. She won't see it now, but beneath the simmering indignation in his eyes there's a bitter hint of hurt; that she'd chosen to cut him down directly after he'd admitted he'd cared for her -- that she'd meant something to him back in Panem -- stung more than Jack cared to think about. And top to it off, he had let emotion get the better of him.

He settles back into his saddle at her suggestion, relaxing into a more comfortable position just as the mare bounces forward into a trot. His expression fades to something more neutral, impassive, and Jack stays silent as the mare follows behind Eowyn's horse.

[shieldofrohan]

They ride in silence for a long, long time - long enough for the landscape to change around them, for grassy plains to give way to farms and villages as they crest the hill - before Éowyn speaks. "There's bread and cheese in one of the saddlebags. Call out when you want to stop for lunch."

There's another long moment of silence, and then she sighs, looking back at him, and says rather stiffly, "I know why you did it. Why others did, too. For all anger may rob me of reason, I do, but..." And she looks away again, her face set. "I will not apologise. Not again."