Disclaimer: Middle Earth and everyone in it is the product of Tolkien's imagination, not mine. I write fanfiction for fun, and I do not make any profit from it.
Faramir strode along the streets of Minas Tirith, following his beloved King Elessar. Suddenly, a loud, shrill scream pierced through the air.
Faramir looked up in terror and disbelief. Had the servants of the Enemy returned? He cowered to the ground in fear as the dark shape wheeled over the city, ever coming closer to his king.
"My liege!" The words rasped pitifully from Faramir's throat. "Nazgul!"
Suddenly he felt someone shaking his shoulders. "Faramir, wake up!"
With a start, he awoke to find Eowyn staring at him, curiosity and concern vying with the sleep in her eyes.
"Nazgul," he muttered, trying to shake off the influence of his nightmare.
"Nay, love, there is no danger. It was just a dream," she reassured him, entwining her own slender fingers through his.
"Are you certain?" Faramir asked suspiciously as another shriek came from the back room. "Then what was that?"
"Faramir, that's Elboron."
He groaned. "Again?" When Eowyn nodded, he started to raise himself from the bed. "You've already been up tending him twice tonight. You deserve some rest."
Eowyn's eyes were already drooping as Faramir brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead before hastening in the direction of his son's increasing cries.
He gently lifted the child from his bed and cradled him in his arms. "That's quite the scream you've got, my lad. Let's see if I can recall the song the King Elessar was singing earlier today. Perhaps it will soothe you."
He thought for a moment, then began softly,
"Her robe was blue as summer skies,
but grey as evening were her eyes;
her mantle sewn with lilies fair,
but dark as shadow was her hair."
Words in Italics are from the Lay of Luthien by J.R.R. Tolkien