Author : under-bitter-rain
Rating : PG-13
Authors Notes : This has not been thoroughly checked and forgive me for any
blatant mistakes bookwise.
Disclaimer : All names, places belong to JRR Tolkien/New Line Cinema
respectively, except original characters.
---
" And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do
Would you sell your story to rolling stone
Would you take the children away
And leave me alone
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone
Would you send me packing
Or would you take me home. "
It was so Faramir found her, crouched next to an ancient Oak, staring motionlessly into the water. Ithilien bloomed around them, encasing them in sunlight and foliage, and that of darkness lifted, of pureness and peace. Her delicate face was streaked with tears, framed by her golden tassels and the jewel that kept the unruly curls at bay was what he addressed, unable to concentrate upon anything else.
"Eowyn?"
She flinched, drawing back into herself. Slowly, her eyes were lifted and he was met with her face, sad and weary.
"What is wrong?" The bridge between them was frozen and gelid, for Faramir felt nothing of the love that had blossomed between them so early ago, even though he yearned to caress the tears from her cheeks, and to hold and comfort her. But he dared not, dared not intrude the wall she had built around her emotions.
She looked back to the water. "Why do you ask, there is nothing wrong." When she lifted her face again, the tears were gone, and she attempted to dry her eyes without making obvious what she was doing.
"You have been crying," Faramir said softly. He knelt down and brushed a hand across her shoulder.
"Not long has passed since darkness was lifted off this land, I am mourning that which was."
"If you may hurt me enough to lie to me, I will not stop you, but do not lie to yourself." There was something duly ripping in his heart, wrenching tears to his eyes which he fought to control.
Eowyn was silent for a long time. Finally she spoke. "Yesterday there was news from Gondor. Arwen Evenstar has given birth to Lord Aragorn's first child. I wish to ask your permission to ride out and visit them, to congratulate them and bring gifts from Ithilien." Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Faramir swallowed and fought to keep his voice rigid and steady. "O - Ofcourse you may do that. I shall ask that a horse be saddled for you tomorrow morning at sunrise."
Eowyn gave a nod and stood. Faramir followed suit and was met with her brilliant, blue eyes. She was watching him precausiously. He lifted a hand and met her cold cheek, soft and smooth underneath his touch. It was her eyes that had captured him, and he had never been able to forget them, even when the world seemed to come falling in - there was always her eyes, watching him, seeking him amongst the crowd.
She flinched again and concentrated on his fingers. Faramir once more felt like an intruder, like she would start screaming or run away at any moment. There had been times he had wondered, what was it that kept her by his side. And now, more then ever, he needed to know that she still felt something for him, that love bound them.
"Tomorrow, at sunrise." She repeated quietly and drew away, starting back up the path. The wind blew across the empty space that still held her presence, fading and dull. Faramir was left staring into nothing.
It had been 2 days since she had left. The cold grip upon his heart never seemed to lift, and even his faithful servants and friends began to worry about the Lord of Ithilien. Faramir spent hours and hours in his bedchamber, sitting at the window, staring in silence. He barely ate and slept, and responded to only few. There were talks of illness, and madness, but nothing that was even near the truth. Fear.
What if she did not return? How would he live without her by his side at night and before his eyes at day. How would he live without seeing her smile grace her lips, frail and gentle. What if she were to - What if she was -
In love with somebody else.
Faramir drew his head into his hands and waited. The swirling darkness brought no answer, no solution. He lifted his head. Before him on the table, glistening in the evening light was his dagger. Cool and bare it lay in perfect motionless silence, waiting for it's master. He had killed many enemies with it, and what if now, he were to -
He reached for the weapon. No one to stray his hand, to weep for his life. His father would not care, his brother - himself had fallen victim to weakness, and his wife, sought another. His friends and allies heeded not his grief. And why, why was he to carry on? For whom.
Unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door.
Faramir ran a hand down the steel blade and drew a deep breath. "Leave me alone, go away."
"Lord Faramir? There is a message for you, from the Lady Eowyn."
Faramir paused. Eowyn. "Come in."
A girl of about 20 quitely entered the room. Her long, golden hair was tied back in a braid and her simple, brown frock reminded the King of Eowyn, when he first met her, so long ago. He put the dagger down and turned to her.
"Speak."
The girl bowed shortly. She had high cheekbones and darling green eyes. A perfect picture.
"The Lady Eowyn says that she made it safely to Gondor and that the babe is a girl. She says she will spend another few days in leave."
Faramir was silent.
The girl bowed once more and averted her eyes. She had heard the rumors going around and felt uncomfortable meeting the King's gaze. She could almost feel his grey eyes studying her, wandering her body.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Amara, my Lord."
"I have not seen you before."
"I am one of the guard's daughters, my father sent me with the message because the bearer's horse was lame and he needed to tend to it."
Faramir closed his eyes for a mere secound. The sight of Eowyn's lovely face flitted before him, lit with a smile and for some reason, all he could picture was her with a child upon her arms. A child. They had never discussed children: he had never felt it was right to push the matter and Eowyn said nothing. Maybe that was it. maybe she was distant because she yearned for a babe of her own.
Or maybe she was in love with somebody else.
Amara was still waiting to be dismissed. Faramir studied her for a moment. "Would you bring me some water, Amara?"
The girl obediently drew to the bed and lifted a crystal jug from the bedside table, filling it's partnering mug with rosewater. Faramir watched her carefully make her way across the room and whence she stopped before him, did not drop their locked gazes. She handed him the mug.
"Thankyou, Amara." He took a short drink and careful not to take long enough for her to draw away stood up. His hands found their way to her face, stroking, gently, carefully, as if she were a delicate butterfly that would dissolve underneath his touch. She flinched, but seemed unable to move, never breaking their gaze and with a hint of childish wonder in her eyes. He savoured her skin. If he closed his eyes it was Eowyn before him, tender and sweet and full of love and honor.
Honor. He was certainly acting dishonorably, he thought, leaning in to kiss the young girl. Her lips tasted of cherry and honey, and took him completely by surprise - it had been so long since he had kissed anyone other then his wife.
So be it.
"Lord Faramir, I do not think -"
He kissed her again. "Then do not."
"But what about-"
He was drawing his lips over her chin now, her neck, his mind racing ahead at a million miles per hour.
"Do not worry."
"But - "
"Hush."
When he awoke, the girl was gone. It was morning and golden sunlight streamed in and etched sunbeams upon the floor. Faramir watched the shadows for some time play across his room before finally heaving himself up. There was a certain element of guilt that swarmed within him, but something else had awoken as well. It was almost as if he was even with Eowyn now, and yet, he loved her no less then before. Ofcourse, Aragorn was not one she would ever have, but he saw it within her eyes more and more with each passing day - she did not feel fulfilled. And now, now, he had loved another and they could return to being happy again.
He dressed and left his bedchamber. In the joining room the table had been set for breakfast - but Faramir did not feel at all hungry. It was a few good minutes before he reached the stables - but to him, everything was taking too long and was unnecessary.
A stablehand hurried up. "Yes, Lord Faramir?"
"Have Borman saddled and ready and waiting outside the stable," he ordered.
The stablehand gave a nod and darted back inside. Within moments a tall umber stallion was led out and stopped infront of Faramir. He mounted, took up the reins and heeded the horse around sharply - a certain element of haste had also awoken within him, that he should need to hurry and complete his task as soon as possible.
The sun was sending deep hues of gold and xanthous across the stone perimeters of Gondor - lighting them up to seem ethereal, something out of a storybook. It seemed that any which broke this aurora were strange and outcast, for the folk of the land heeded not the early hour. The streets were deserted and bare - but were it not for the cloaked figure upon horseback, moving silently across the cobbled paths. It was so that two days after he set out, Faramir had reached his destination, and now, now there were mere moments left until he would reach the main dwelling of King Elessar - the royal fortress was already in view, bound by it's many guards. Faramir involuntarily shuddered - much had changed since his father had lived there, and he did not feel at all welcome. There was something that suggested the memories that he had kept inside for so long were of no longer importance - the courtyard, where he and Boromir used to play when they were little was barely recognizable, the stables had been rebuilt altogether - everything, everything seemed to have a whole new feel to it.
Faramir halted his horse and dismounted. He was tired, hungry and wished only for sleep - but there was no time for it. A stablehand hurried up, bowed shortly and took Borman's reins. Faramir turned to him.
"I need to find someone here," he started.
The stablehand paused. "Who, may I ask sir?"
"Lady Eowyn of Ithilien -"
"I think the Lady is a royal guest here - she'll be getting ready for breakfast with Lord Elessar and Lady Arwen."
"Thankyou," Faramir nodded curtly. That was all he needed to know.
The Great Hall was empty - but not very different. Faramir was momentarily held motionless in awe as he let his eyes sweep the grand dwelling. There was something stirring inside him - as if he were waiting for Boromir to come in and welcome him back, or even his father to appear in the doorway.
But nothing of the sort happened. Instead, he heard voices coming through the ajoining room - the dining room if he were not mistaken - voices that he recognized all too well.
He paused a moment longer and then started toward the doorway. He was greeted with a huge table, set for breakfast with all sorts of foods imaginable, but it was not so the wonderful hospitality he noticed first - but Aragorn, Arwen and Eowyn. All three looked up from their dishes as he entered and the same surprise was clear in their eyes.
Aragorn looked completely the part of King. He was well groomed and clad in a silken tunic of green. His eyes were clear and proud, and his gaze even and steady. He had not changed much - rather, grown in his own way. He was sat at the head of the table - next was Arwen, her lovely Elven features highlighted with unmistakable Royal jewels and soft robes of silk, and a previously void motherly glow was in her eyes. Eowyn was sat opposite her - and she was still the same, but were it not for the sadness that had been lifted from her face.
"Faramir! What a pleasant surprise," Arwen said. "Come, join us, and tell of what brings you to Gondor."
Faramir had never broken eye contact with Aragorn until this moment: he had found himself trying to evaluate him, to desperately find that which Eowyn found so irresistible. But now he averted his gaze and made his way to the table, bowing curtly and positioning himself in a chair next to his wife. Eowyn was still staring at him with pure, astonished shock. He glanced at her shortly and then finally spoke.
"I am sorry, Lord Elessar, to intrude like I have, but I come from the need to desperately talk to my wife."
"You are always welcome, Faramir," Aragorn replied. "But would it not been easier to have sent a message?"
"I'm afraid that wasn't really an option." Once more, he glanced at Eowyn.
Aragorn was silent, and he looked from one to the other.
"I offer my congratulations to you, Lord Elessar, and to you, Lady Arwen, and wish the babe well."
This seemed to catch Aragorn completely by surprise - in the strange circle of events that had proceeded that morning, he had not assumed Faramir would tend that subject, and certainly with not so much familiarity.
"Thankyou."
---
" And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight
And if I open my heart to you
And show you my weak side
What would you do
Would you sell your story to rolling stone
Would you take the children away
And leave me alone
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone
Would you send me packing
Or would you take me home. "
It was so Faramir found her, crouched next to an ancient Oak, staring motionlessly into the water. Ithilien bloomed around them, encasing them in sunlight and foliage, and that of darkness lifted, of pureness and peace. Her delicate face was streaked with tears, framed by her golden tassels and the jewel that kept the unruly curls at bay was what he addressed, unable to concentrate upon anything else.
"Eowyn?"
She flinched, drawing back into herself. Slowly, her eyes were lifted and he was met with her face, sad and weary.
"What is wrong?" The bridge between them was frozen and gelid, for Faramir felt nothing of the love that had blossomed between them so early ago, even though he yearned to caress the tears from her cheeks, and to hold and comfort her. But he dared not, dared not intrude the wall she had built around her emotions.
She looked back to the water. "Why do you ask, there is nothing wrong." When she lifted her face again, the tears were gone, and she attempted to dry her eyes without making obvious what she was doing.
"You have been crying," Faramir said softly. He knelt down and brushed a hand across her shoulder.
"Not long has passed since darkness was lifted off this land, I am mourning that which was."
"If you may hurt me enough to lie to me, I will not stop you, but do not lie to yourself." There was something duly ripping in his heart, wrenching tears to his eyes which he fought to control.
Eowyn was silent for a long time. Finally she spoke. "Yesterday there was news from Gondor. Arwen Evenstar has given birth to Lord Aragorn's first child. I wish to ask your permission to ride out and visit them, to congratulate them and bring gifts from Ithilien." Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Faramir swallowed and fought to keep his voice rigid and steady. "O - Ofcourse you may do that. I shall ask that a horse be saddled for you tomorrow morning at sunrise."
Eowyn gave a nod and stood. Faramir followed suit and was met with her brilliant, blue eyes. She was watching him precausiously. He lifted a hand and met her cold cheek, soft and smooth underneath his touch. It was her eyes that had captured him, and he had never been able to forget them, even when the world seemed to come falling in - there was always her eyes, watching him, seeking him amongst the crowd.
She flinched again and concentrated on his fingers. Faramir once more felt like an intruder, like she would start screaming or run away at any moment. There had been times he had wondered, what was it that kept her by his side. And now, more then ever, he needed to know that she still felt something for him, that love bound them.
"Tomorrow, at sunrise." She repeated quietly and drew away, starting back up the path. The wind blew across the empty space that still held her presence, fading and dull. Faramir was left staring into nothing.
It had been 2 days since she had left. The cold grip upon his heart never seemed to lift, and even his faithful servants and friends began to worry about the Lord of Ithilien. Faramir spent hours and hours in his bedchamber, sitting at the window, staring in silence. He barely ate and slept, and responded to only few. There were talks of illness, and madness, but nothing that was even near the truth. Fear.
What if she did not return? How would he live without her by his side at night and before his eyes at day. How would he live without seeing her smile grace her lips, frail and gentle. What if she were to - What if she was -
In love with somebody else.
Faramir drew his head into his hands and waited. The swirling darkness brought no answer, no solution. He lifted his head. Before him on the table, glistening in the evening light was his dagger. Cool and bare it lay in perfect motionless silence, waiting for it's master. He had killed many enemies with it, and what if now, he were to -
He reached for the weapon. No one to stray his hand, to weep for his life. His father would not care, his brother - himself had fallen victim to weakness, and his wife, sought another. His friends and allies heeded not his grief. And why, why was he to carry on? For whom.
Unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door.
Faramir ran a hand down the steel blade and drew a deep breath. "Leave me alone, go away."
"Lord Faramir? There is a message for you, from the Lady Eowyn."
Faramir paused. Eowyn. "Come in."
A girl of about 20 quitely entered the room. Her long, golden hair was tied back in a braid and her simple, brown frock reminded the King of Eowyn, when he first met her, so long ago. He put the dagger down and turned to her.
"Speak."
The girl bowed shortly. She had high cheekbones and darling green eyes. A perfect picture.
"The Lady Eowyn says that she made it safely to Gondor and that the babe is a girl. She says she will spend another few days in leave."
Faramir was silent.
The girl bowed once more and averted her eyes. She had heard the rumors going around and felt uncomfortable meeting the King's gaze. She could almost feel his grey eyes studying her, wandering her body.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Amara, my Lord."
"I have not seen you before."
"I am one of the guard's daughters, my father sent me with the message because the bearer's horse was lame and he needed to tend to it."
Faramir closed his eyes for a mere secound. The sight of Eowyn's lovely face flitted before him, lit with a smile and for some reason, all he could picture was her with a child upon her arms. A child. They had never discussed children: he had never felt it was right to push the matter and Eowyn said nothing. Maybe that was it. maybe she was distant because she yearned for a babe of her own.
Or maybe she was in love with somebody else.
Amara was still waiting to be dismissed. Faramir studied her for a moment. "Would you bring me some water, Amara?"
The girl obediently drew to the bed and lifted a crystal jug from the bedside table, filling it's partnering mug with rosewater. Faramir watched her carefully make her way across the room and whence she stopped before him, did not drop their locked gazes. She handed him the mug.
"Thankyou, Amara." He took a short drink and careful not to take long enough for her to draw away stood up. His hands found their way to her face, stroking, gently, carefully, as if she were a delicate butterfly that would dissolve underneath his touch. She flinched, but seemed unable to move, never breaking their gaze and with a hint of childish wonder in her eyes. He savoured her skin. If he closed his eyes it was Eowyn before him, tender and sweet and full of love and honor.
Honor. He was certainly acting dishonorably, he thought, leaning in to kiss the young girl. Her lips tasted of cherry and honey, and took him completely by surprise - it had been so long since he had kissed anyone other then his wife.
So be it.
"Lord Faramir, I do not think -"
He kissed her again. "Then do not."
"But what about-"
He was drawing his lips over her chin now, her neck, his mind racing ahead at a million miles per hour.
"Do not worry."
"But - "
"Hush."
When he awoke, the girl was gone. It was morning and golden sunlight streamed in and etched sunbeams upon the floor. Faramir watched the shadows for some time play across his room before finally heaving himself up. There was a certain element of guilt that swarmed within him, but something else had awoken as well. It was almost as if he was even with Eowyn now, and yet, he loved her no less then before. Ofcourse, Aragorn was not one she would ever have, but he saw it within her eyes more and more with each passing day - she did not feel fulfilled. And now, now, he had loved another and they could return to being happy again.
He dressed and left his bedchamber. In the joining room the table had been set for breakfast - but Faramir did not feel at all hungry. It was a few good minutes before he reached the stables - but to him, everything was taking too long and was unnecessary.
A stablehand hurried up. "Yes, Lord Faramir?"
"Have Borman saddled and ready and waiting outside the stable," he ordered.
The stablehand gave a nod and darted back inside. Within moments a tall umber stallion was led out and stopped infront of Faramir. He mounted, took up the reins and heeded the horse around sharply - a certain element of haste had also awoken within him, that he should need to hurry and complete his task as soon as possible.
The sun was sending deep hues of gold and xanthous across the stone perimeters of Gondor - lighting them up to seem ethereal, something out of a storybook. It seemed that any which broke this aurora were strange and outcast, for the folk of the land heeded not the early hour. The streets were deserted and bare - but were it not for the cloaked figure upon horseback, moving silently across the cobbled paths. It was so that two days after he set out, Faramir had reached his destination, and now, now there were mere moments left until he would reach the main dwelling of King Elessar - the royal fortress was already in view, bound by it's many guards. Faramir involuntarily shuddered - much had changed since his father had lived there, and he did not feel at all welcome. There was something that suggested the memories that he had kept inside for so long were of no longer importance - the courtyard, where he and Boromir used to play when they were little was barely recognizable, the stables had been rebuilt altogether - everything, everything seemed to have a whole new feel to it.
Faramir halted his horse and dismounted. He was tired, hungry and wished only for sleep - but there was no time for it. A stablehand hurried up, bowed shortly and took Borman's reins. Faramir turned to him.
"I need to find someone here," he started.
The stablehand paused. "Who, may I ask sir?"
"Lady Eowyn of Ithilien -"
"I think the Lady is a royal guest here - she'll be getting ready for breakfast with Lord Elessar and Lady Arwen."
"Thankyou," Faramir nodded curtly. That was all he needed to know.
The Great Hall was empty - but not very different. Faramir was momentarily held motionless in awe as he let his eyes sweep the grand dwelling. There was something stirring inside him - as if he were waiting for Boromir to come in and welcome him back, or even his father to appear in the doorway.
But nothing of the sort happened. Instead, he heard voices coming through the ajoining room - the dining room if he were not mistaken - voices that he recognized all too well.
He paused a moment longer and then started toward the doorway. He was greeted with a huge table, set for breakfast with all sorts of foods imaginable, but it was not so the wonderful hospitality he noticed first - but Aragorn, Arwen and Eowyn. All three looked up from their dishes as he entered and the same surprise was clear in their eyes.
Aragorn looked completely the part of King. He was well groomed and clad in a silken tunic of green. His eyes were clear and proud, and his gaze even and steady. He had not changed much - rather, grown in his own way. He was sat at the head of the table - next was Arwen, her lovely Elven features highlighted with unmistakable Royal jewels and soft robes of silk, and a previously void motherly glow was in her eyes. Eowyn was sat opposite her - and she was still the same, but were it not for the sadness that had been lifted from her face.
"Faramir! What a pleasant surprise," Arwen said. "Come, join us, and tell of what brings you to Gondor."
Faramir had never broken eye contact with Aragorn until this moment: he had found himself trying to evaluate him, to desperately find that which Eowyn found so irresistible. But now he averted his gaze and made his way to the table, bowing curtly and positioning himself in a chair next to his wife. Eowyn was still staring at him with pure, astonished shock. He glanced at her shortly and then finally spoke.
"I am sorry, Lord Elessar, to intrude like I have, but I come from the need to desperately talk to my wife."
"You are always welcome, Faramir," Aragorn replied. "But would it not been easier to have sent a message?"
"I'm afraid that wasn't really an option." Once more, he glanced at Eowyn.
Aragorn was silent, and he looked from one to the other.
"I offer my congratulations to you, Lord Elessar, and to you, Lady Arwen, and wish the babe well."
This seemed to catch Aragorn completely by surprise - in the strange circle of events that had proceeded that morning, he had not assumed Faramir would tend that subject, and certainly with not so much familiarity.
"Thankyou."
