Disclaimer: I own nothing! Everything belongs to Tolkien esate, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Rated: T for language/sickeningly sweet fluff. May change later...
A/N: My other stories are on hiatus, and I recently re-watched the movies, and...well, you know...
This story is NOT to be taken seriously, just me dancing around with wraith bunnies. It's also for any Faramir/Eowyn fans, so if you don't like, don't read.
All grammar/spelling/OOC mistakes are my own, because I have real life and little time to edit.
If you do like this, please feel free drop a review. It may be the only thing keeping me from going crazy...
EnJoy! |DJwind|
1
8:59 (20:59) AM
Sir Bilbo Baggins Memorable Hospital, Gondorton
Eowyn Otto limped through the ER doors, one hand holding onto her brother's arm in a death grip, the other hanging uselessly and crookedly at her side. Her face was unusually pale as she tried to breath deeply through the searing pain that racked her whole arm and side. Eomer, the older by four years, helped his sister to the nearest seat, then turned to talk to their approaching uncle, Theoden Rohirrim.
"They'll have her in soon," he answered Eomer's unspoken question. He glanced down at the withering, silently cursing woman, and shook his head in disbelief. "You've done it now, Eowyn," he said grimly, although his lips curled up in amusement. "I told you not to ride him yet."
"Shut, the fuck up," Eowyn hissed through growing fire in her body. She felt like she was going to successfully faint if painkillers weren't induced now.
A soft chuckle rippled through Eomer, even in a situation like this, Eowyn was annoyed that her brother's humor was still intact. If it wasn't for her arm, she would punch him to the floor.
"Miss. Otto?" A calm, deep voice spoke up from behind them. Everyone turned around, and Eomer helped his sister scramble up. She hissed through her barred teeth, but was glad that her face mostly remained expressionless as they faced the nurse. Surprisingly he was a man, tall and of slender build, he held himself up with the pose and pride of one with some military background. His long amber hair was pulled back in a neat pony-tail with a few smaller strands escaping, and in a bearded face cool and blank, sea-grey eyes looked out wise and sad. He smiled sympathetically at Eowyn, and motioned for her and Eomer to follow him down the hall.
"My name's Faramir," he introduced himself as he opened the door to the patient's room and urged them in, "I'll be your nurse for the duration of your stay."
"Thank you," Eomer nodded courtly to him in place of his "dying" sister who could barely stand, let alone speak to anyone.
"I'm going to check your blood pressure and such before Dr. Elessar comes in," Faramir informed them as he prepared to proceed. Eowyn glowered at him as he checked her blood pressure, but he was unswayed by her fierce glare—infect he seemed to be ignoring her, focusing on the task before him with great seriousness.
"I'll give you something to help with the pain," Faramir said as he finished filling a needle up and approached the patient.
Eowyn hissed at him—induced by the pain, but still a savage sound to hear. Eomer grimaced, and quickly and profusely apologized, "I'm sorry, sir, my sister hates needles about as much as she hates hospitals. If it wasn't for the fact that she fell off of our horse, it would've taken the whole Marine Corp to drag her hare."
Faramir smiled thinly, though his eyes twinkled with mirth. "I see," he simply said, taking up her uninjured arm and cleaning the spot he would "stab" her. "Don't worry," he assured them, "almost every single patient I've ever had despises needles." He quickly penetrated her arm; she flinched but wisely didn't hiss at him this time, and with all the other pain coursing through her, she barely noticed it anyway.
"So, I take it you were in the military," he said conversationally to Eomer as he pulled the needle out of Eowyn's arm and stepped back a safe distance.
Eomer nodded, "Six years active duty. Been livin' with my uncle and sis here ever since I got back."
Faramir picked up his clipboard and began to write down notes as he replied, "My brother and I also served, though he's still in."
"What branch?" Eomer curiously asked as the nurse finished his notes for the doctor.
"Marine's for him, Air Force for me," Faramir asked, gathering up his supplies and making a bee-line for the door, "My father wasn't very pleased."
"Bet not," replied Eomer. "I tried convicting Eowyn to go in, but she won't have it."
Faramir shrugged and said nothing in reply to that; he didn't what to share his personal option of military woman with this stranger at the moment. He opened the door, saying, "I'm getting Dr. Elessar. I'll be right back." And left them.
Doctor Aragorn Elessar ll, was the leading Doctor in the Bagging's Memorable Hospital, the only one in the small town of Gondorton; population no more than seven-thousand totaled. He was the epiphany of tall, dark and handsome, middle-aged and easy going with an out-of-date, but fashionable side-cut of dark hair. He strode in ahead of Faramir as if he was the king of the place, and greeted Eomer and Eowyn with a smile. He inspected Eowyn's wounded shoulder and side, then straightened and said.
"You've got a dislocated shoulder and two fracture ribs. We'll set the shoulder to right and wrap the ribs, then you're good to go—just no horse riding for six weeks." As he and Faramir approached Eowyn to set her shoulder, she glared at them and stated through clutched teeth.
"If you touch in the wrong way, I'll kick your balls to oblivion!" It was no idle threat, she still one hand in use.
"Eowyn!" Eomer scolded her in shook, and he tried convicting himself it was just the pain talking, but still…
Faramir momentarily hesitated, something akin to fear in his eyes, but Dr. Elessar simply laughed.
"No worries, Miss. Otto," he assured her, placing a hand on her dislocated shoulder, "We'll do no such thing. Besides, I have a girl wantin' for me at home, she'll massacre me for sure, her or her brothers, or Valar knows, her father! Faramir's too good of a guy to do anything like that either."
As the doctor talked, he straightened out Eowyn's shoulder until a satisfying pop was heard and the pain was suddenly and mostly gone.
"There," he said, "I'll have Faramir finish you up, and you're good to go. I'll proscribe some painkillers to help with the pain. No riding or any other serious physical activity for several weeks, and we'll see you back in two weeks."
He stood up and was gone before Eowyn could open her mouth to thank him. She sighed, and let Faramir finish wrapping her ribs. She didn't—couldn't—look at him, embarrassed and irritated by her earlier outburst, so she waited in cold silence as he secured her ribs and glanced up. Her eyes were too slow to pull back and refocus on the horse paintings that decorated the room, so they reluctantly made contact. A thick veil seemed to suddenly left from her vision, and she saw that he was indeed very handsome, although somber and strangely sad. She wondered what ailed him, a thought that also crossed his mind as he looked at her, pale and fair like a flower on the eve of spring. Her golden hair fell in gentle waves about her stooped pain-ridden shoulders, and her blue eyes shone out with quickly vanishing pain that had hung over for the last hour.
Eomer cleared his throat after an awkward moment or two. Faramir release his hold on her, his hands lingering on her ribs for several more seconds then was appropriate, and quickly scrambled to his feet, violently quenching the urge to blush. Eowyn looked away, color coming into her cheeks as her brother helped her up on her feet, and silently followed Faramir out of the room and back down the hall to where their uncle worriedly waited for them.
Faramir hurriedly handed the desk receptionist some papers and was about to return back down the hall when Eowyn stopped and spoke out, her voice clear and steady.
"Thank you,"
He smiled and bowed his head slightly, in a show of respect or humility Eowyn didn't know which. "You're welcome," he softly replied, his eyes shining out kindly—almost lovingly—at her, and she quickly averted his lingering gaze, feeling shivers of warmth run down her spin, but it wasn't due to the medicine earlier received. She was suddenly possessed with the acute sensation that this wasn't going to be the last time they met…
"I didn't know she was your type," Aragorn mused aloud as he strode alongside Faramir to their next appointment.
Faramir glanced from the clipboard in his hands, giving the doctor a confused, quizzical expression.
"It's no use in trying to insist otherwise," he said, "I know what I saw. You were falling for her!"
"Dr. Elessar, out of all due respects, but I have no idea what you're saying."
Aragorn chuckled, amused at his nurse's complete lack of understanding. In most regards, Faramir was a very brilliant man—he never would understand way he left the military medical corps to pursue a career in a small town hospital like this—but when it came to some things, woman mostly pre-say, Faramir was as dense as a doorbell. He supposed it was because he'd grown up with hardworking, though distance men all his life.
"Never mind," Aragorn waved Faramir off as they reached the room of their next patient. "I'm not going to encourage a patient-nurse relationship anyway."
"Thank you," Faramir said in his annoyingly courtesy way.
Though it would do you some good, Aragorn privately thought. It was a small town after-all.
...and that's the first chapter! Please tell me if you like it/what to read more!