A/N this is my first attempt at a LOTR fanfic so please be nice :) people who know me well might recognise where a bit of the inspiration came from. Thought and flashbacks are in italics.


Fear For You

A heavy downpour beat against the rough timbres of the stables of Emyn Arnen, chilling the air until the breath of the servants hurrying to and fro across the courtyard appeared like quick puffs of smoke. The frigid air had not yet penetrated the warm drowsy light of the neat stable and the building's charges lazily shifted their weight from side to side and mouthed at the sweet pieces of hay hanging in nets from the low rafters. Inside one stall a beautiful young woman sat leaning against the smooth, oiled wood of the closed door. This stall's other occupant regarded her almost with concern and pawed at the ground, whickering gently to her mistress.

"Oh Windfola I fear I have lost him!" she wept, burying her face in her long lily-white hands as a fresh wave of stricken sobs tore through her. Her frantic mind took her back to that fateful day, merely one week ago when her beloved Faramir had been summoned to lead a band of rangers against a group of orcs, which had burnt and pillaged several farms and two small villages.

She flew down the main staircase into the entrance hall of her new home, her white dress fluttering like dove wings behind her. She didn't care if it was eavesdropping, the messenger should have been more careful with the volume of his voice. She also didn't care if her behaviour now was inappropriate for a lady of Gondor, there was no way she was going to let her Faramir go without a fight.

"NO!" she shrieked, uncaring of the shocked and disdainful look she was receiving from the messenger from Minas Tirith who was most likely from a very high-born Gondorian family and thought her outburst ridiculous. Indeed her Faramir even looked a little uncomfortable. She threw herself at her lords feet, not bothering to mask her fear.

"My Lord I implore you, please don't leave me here alone so soon after you brought me to this place! Is there no one who can go in your stead?"she pleaded, her grey eyes shining with as yet unshed tears. Faramir glanced towards the messenger and subtly signalled for him to leave.

"Eowyn, please you must learn to control yourself in front of people," he sighed, refusing to look her in the eye,

"Why? I never felt appearances mattered that much to you,"

"As the princess of Ithilien, appearances ought to matter to you!" He barked suddenly, anger flaring up before he could control it. Her eyes widened and she fell away from him. She staggered to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster but nothing could hide the hurt in her storm coloured eyes. Immediately his heart softened and he reached out to pull his wife into an embrace but she stepped away from him, turning away from his attempt at comfort. His arms fell limply to his sides and silence reined for several moments.

"Please... Do not leave me so soon..."

"Eowyn..."

"I cannot live without you by my side. The shadows are threatening to consume me even from the fear of losing you.'

"I have no choice my love, I am bound to obey the wishes of the king."

"But what about my wishes?"

"Whatever happened to the Eowyn who came to me in the Houses of Healing begging to be released to go back into battle although still gravely wounded?"

"I had nothing left to live for then." She said softly, almost to herself.

"Please do not make this even more difficult for me..."

"Difficult?" She let out a wild laugh, "You care nothing for me! You stopped caring as soon as you bedded me-" she was cut off by the back of his hand striking her across her cheek.

"Say what you will about me but never say I do not care for you. Never." He spat vehemently, "I sincerely hope your outlook has improved by the time I return." And with that he turned and strode out towards the stables. She was stunned to silence but the tears ran freely down her now red-blotched cheeks.

This memory caused her body to be wracked by fresh sobs. How could she have let him go in such a way? Even if he survived the fool's errand of a mission, why would he feel any desire to return to her after the way she treated him? Looking back now she could see exactly how idiotic and childish she had been, he had always shown her nothing but love and care throughout their time together! She struggled to her feet, using her patient steed for support. Seven days had passed since he had left; he ought to have returned three days ago. She took a shuddering breath and stumbled out of the stall. Immediately the world started to spin and she clutched at a nearby post. She was too slow and the stone paving rushed up to meet her as she tumbled to the ground. A horse neighed in alarm. The world went dark.

Her head pounded and her throat was dry. She groaned in discomfort and regretted it as a wave of pain spiked through her entire body. She forced her eyelids open. The world slowly came back into focus but she was not in the warm stable block anymore, she was in the entrance hall of her home but the hearth was cold and empty.

"He will not come to you"

She sat up, her head whipping around to find the source of the whispering voice. An eerie chuckle echoed around her and her nose was filled with the stench of burning flesh.

"I am the White Lady of Ithilien. Sister to the King of Rohan, Wife to the Steward of Gondor and friend to the King. And I demand you tell me who or what you are and explain what you mean by this!" Her voice rang out clearly throughout the hall and a gale screamed through her, though she would not be moved. A murky image floated before her eyes. To her horror it morphed into a hideously accurate image of her husband, grotesquely wounded and aflame, his eyes wide and rolling in agony, his mouth agape in a silent scream. Then suddenly a notched orc blade sliced across his chest and he fell limp. She squeezed her eyes tight shut but the image was forged into her mind. An agonizing shriek tore from her lips and she curled into a tiny ball, trying to crush the picture from her mind.

"Eowyn!" No! Not his dying voice as well! She covered her ears and sobbed grief-stricken. The unearthly laugh rippled around her once more.

"Eowyn!" She whimpered in pain, completely exhausted. A pressure bore down on her and her vision became hazy and dark. Thank Beda, she must be dying also! An expression of grim determination came over her face. Whatever death could hold would be no match to the pain of living without her beloved Faramir. At this thought, the pressure lifted slightly and her vision lightened considerably, gradually she felt less weighed down and the light grew too bright for her to bear.

"Eowyn! My love please come back to me!"

She frowned in irritation. Was not death supposed to be peaceful? She opened one eye a fraction in annoyance and the sight that welcomed her was most unexpected. For she was once more in the cheerfully bright warm stable although now she was being held by her husband, terror evident on his handsome face.

"Faramir...?" she breathed, scarcely daring to hope this was not an illusion. His face split into a watery grin and he held her tighter.

"What happened to you my love? When was the last time you took any sustenance?"

"I... do not rightly know my Lord..." Her brow furrowed trying to remember. He sighed and scooped her up from the dusty stone and tenderly carried her inside to their bed chamber.

Firstly, he forced her to consume a hearty broth, which improved her strength no end, secondly he questioned her as to what had happened during the week he was absent. It transpired she had not eaten anything since he left and only drank rarely. Though deep down her tale of what she had seen after she had collapsed forced him to see the real cause was the shadow that still permeated her from the battle of the Pellenor Fields.

"My Lady, why did you allow yourself to fall into such a state?"

"I feared for you, I feared after my outburst whether you lived or died you would not return to me," she shivered and a slight tremble entered her soft voice and she buried her golden head in his chest. He sighed, holder her tighter as he planted a light kiss in her corn silk-like hair.

"Forgive me my love, I should not have abandoned you in such a way!"

"No my lord, you did your duty. Forgive me for saying you do not care for me!"

"My beloved Eowyn there is nothing to forgive. I am as much to blame for refusing to see your point of view." He tenderly kissed her as if to assuage her worries, "I will speak with the king and try to change to a less practical role so to speak. No longer will I take joy in danger and bloodshed. My place is here with you."

Eowyn smiled slightly at this.

"My Lord that suits me perfectly."

Fin


Please R+R :)