Movieverse. AU.
This is my take on 'Faramir and Éowyn meet before the Houses of Healing'. Just trust me, it will be good.
This is also my first LOTR fic, and I haven't read the entire book yet, so if there are any mistakes, please tell me and I will correct them. Also, constructive criticism is welcome, as long as it is constructive and not just mean : -) Do you want me to cry?
Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own the Lord of the Rings. And as I am imagining all the characters from the movies, just to let you know that I don't own them either. (I wish that I did. Then the three films would consist of nothing but David Wenham running up and down singing "I'm So Pretty", brandishing a sword and being a tortured soul and stuff. 'Sigh' Cos you know, he is so pretty, in a very manly way. I'd probably have him kill off some orcs also, but marry me in the end, instead of Éowyn. Anywhoo…) Like I was saying, I don't own these, and I never will. I am just playing with them for a while and will put them away when I am finished with them (Maybe) I gain not profit from this work of fiction. (And that's just what it is, fiction. 'Sigh' Oh Faramir, why can't you be mine?)
I'm a little nuts in case you hadn't noticed. Anyone care to guess who my favourite character is? Come on, I know it's hard, but just guess.
No takers then? Ok, fine. On with the fic.
'Goes off in a huff'
First two chapters are uploaded simultaneously.
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Minas Tirith, 2995
The clash of swords echoed through the practice ring, as two figures battled high in the seventh circle. Boromir, older by five years, stood tall and proud, his long blonde locks tied back with a simple leather band. His opponent was his brother Faramir, five years his junior but showing great potential with a sword.
The two blades locked together, and the brother's eyes met over the steel. They broke apart, both breathing heavily, but both grinning.
"You have improved, Brother" seventeen year old Boromir told his twelve year old sibling. "Soon I shall have to watch my back."
Faramir grinned at the elder brother that he idolized.
"As if I would ever harm you Boro," he answered, still breathing heavily and leaning on his sword. "I fear I need to train some more if I am to best you one day."
"Do not rush yourself Faramir. You are young, and still have much to learn before you are as wonderful as I."
Faramir playfully punched his brother on the shoulder and straightened up.
"Are you ready to be bested, Brother?" he asked Boromir, his sword held at the ready.
Boromir laughed at the spirit that his young brother exhibited, and fell into a fighting stance.
"En garde."
The two fell into the familiar steps and sweeps as Boromir strove to teach Faramir about defense during a sword fight. Suddenly, Faramir stepped back out of range. A strange look came over his face, and he absentmindedly rubbed a hand over his heart. Boromir was instantly concerned.
"Did I injure you Brother?" he asked him. Though the blades they used to practice with were dull, they could still inflict injury.
"Peace Boromir, I am well." Faramir answered. "It is just, a strange feeling passed over me for a moment."
"What kind of feeling?" Boromir asked, curious. His brother sometimes had 'strange feelings' and they usually marked moments of importance somewhere in the land.
"I do not know," Faramir answered, his face wistful. "I just have a feeling in my heart that today is a day of great importance."
Faramir seemed to wake from his day dream, and shook his head as if to clear it.
"No doubt I am just being fanciful," Faramir told his brother, who was still regarding him curiously. "Shall we begin again?" he asked, raising his sword in a defensive position.
Boromir smiled and dismissed the moment as nothing but a result of his brother eating his lunch to fast. Again the sound of swords meeting filled the air.
Faramir, however, could not shake the feeling that somewhere in Middle Earth, something was happening that would impact him in the future.
Meanwhile….
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Edoras, 2995
(As I'm going with the movies, Théodred is young, roughly Éomer's age, instead of in his late thirties/early forties that I think he in the book)
Éomund paced the golden hall, his face pale and his breathing ragged. He closed his eyes in anguish as another pain-filled scream rent the air. His brother in law, Théoden, sat on his throne, his eyes fixed straight ahead, but his skin equally as pale. The both awaited news on their beloved Theodwyn. Éomund's wife and Théoden's sister, Theodwyn was beloved by both, and they felt every single twinge of pain with her as her labour progressed.
Theodwyn was birthing her second child, and though they had both wanted more children, Éomund began to curse the desire as it put his darling wife in pain. Éomund's son Éomer, a strapping lad of four, sat under the table with his cousin Théodred, playing with toy horses. Every now and then, the boys would look up at their respective fathers and note the worry on their faces. For ones so young, they were very perceptive of their fathers' moods.
Silence hung in the air, and Éomund and Théoden exchanged glances. Could this be it? A child's cry split the silence, as did the sound of running feet. A maidservant burst into the hall, and curtsied quickly to the Lord and her King.
"My Lord," she began, addressing Éomund, "The Lady Theodwyn. She had given birth to a girl, my lord. A beautiful, healthy girl. My Lady is fine also. She is healthy."
Éomund smiled joyfully and took off at a run for his wife's chamber, closely followed by the maidservant. Théoden smiled in relief at the news, and sat heavily down on his throne. His beloved sister was alright. He closed his eyes and thanked the Valar for that.
Excited whispering brought him out of his reverie, and he remembered the presence of the two little boys under the table.
"Éomer, Théodred, come forth," he called, and the two boys obeyed, clambering out from under the table and running to his side.
"Are you sure my Mama is alright?" Éomer asked the king, clambering up on to his lap. Théodred did the same, and soon the king of Rohan had two boys pinning him down.
"I am sure, my nephew" Théoden told him. "The midwife that attends your mother is the wisest in all of Rohan. I would not have it any other way. If she says your mother is alright, and your sister is healthy, then it is so."
Théoden noticed Éomer grimacing a little, and asked him what was wrong.
"A sister?" Éomer answered. "I would much rather have had a brother, one I could teach to ride and to fight."
Théoden smiled. Ah, the logic of children. He knew that his sister and brother-in-law didn't care what sex the child was, as long as the child was healthy. And it looked like they got their wish.
"My nephew," Théoden began, "just because she is a girl doesn't mean that you still can't teach her all those things. Why, there have been many warrior women in history."
"But girls aren't strong," Éomer argued.
"Some are not," Théoden agreed, "But it takes more than strength of body to be a good soldier. It requires strength of character, and a sense of compassion to be a true leader."
"Really Papa?" Théodred asked.
"Yes Théodred. Now, listen to me boys," Théoden said, addressing the two children in a serious tone. "Théodred, you are five, Éomer, you are four…"
"Almost five!" Éomer interrupted and Théoden chuckled.
"Indeed. You are almost five. Young men practically. Now, I want you to promise me that you will look after her. Keep her safe, and protect her. She is family. Do you understand?"
The two boys nodded solemnly.
"Good lads," Théoden said, ruffling their hair and holding them close.
In another room in the great hall, a father was holding his new-born daughter for the first time. Tears of joy slipped from his eyes as he beheld the wonder of his new child.
"She is so beautiful, so perfect," he breathed. He looked at his wife, love shining in his eyes.
"Are you sure you are alright, my love?" he asked her.
"Yes my Husband. I am a little tired and sore, but I shall heal. And now, we have a daughter. What do you think we should name her?"
"Éowyn" Éomund answered immediately, and his wife smiled at the mixture of their two names.
"Éowyn. I like it. Hello Éowyn," she whispered as her husband handed Theodwyn her daughter."
(If anyone feels that Éomer was too familiar with Théoden, the reason is that he is four years old. Children at that age are very affectionate to most people, especially family.)
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