Hopes and Dreams

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, I have been astounded by its reception. I'm not entirely sure I am happy with this next chapter but I hope that's just cause I've been looking at it too long lol.

I also want to dedicate it to Forsterb as a thank you for reviewing every chapter so far. I hope you like it! :)

Chapter Twelve: Of Duty and Love

The dark haired ranger of Ithilien looked critically at his reflection; his sombre visage tainted with uncertainty and nervousness, his weakened body trembling against the feelings roiling through him. He scrubbed a hand wearily through his locks and down across his mouth, folding it into a frown. He shook his head with a snort.

"This day should not have been mine..." he mumbled uneasily, glancing at the silvery object clutched in his palm.

These are yours now...when you are ready...

He took a deep breath and steeled himself, fastening the Steward's keys onto his belt loop. He had work to do. Already Minas Tirith was alive with the burbling excitement of men awaiting the return of their king. Their salvation. Faramir could still feel the echo of relief mingled with elation as he recalled the revelation the Eagle's had brought to the city the previous afternoon. It had seemed like a dream, indeed it continued to – he felt sure that it always would.

Faramir smiled in disbelief, finally donned a black tunic emblazened with the symbols of Gondor, surveying himself once more, tying to ignore the images his memory conjured before him; the sneering distaste...you wish now that our places had been exchanged...yes, I wish that....

A ragged sigh escaped him and he turned on his heel and stepped out into the weak sunlight. It was early and the air was still cool, though Faramir hoped to find Eowyn, and Merry, up and in the gardens. He was not disappointed for their silhouttes were clear to him upon the walls watching the rising of the golden sun upon the smoke free horizon.

"And so a new life begins with the dawning of a new day..." he whispered to himself.

He watched his friends quietly for a time before ambling over to them to take up a seat at Eowyn's side.

"I can still scarcely believe the truth before my eyes..." she said softly. He nodded and follwed her gaze; the brooding clouds of Mordor were no more, green life could be seen bursting tenaciously through the scorched ground, rising up like a pheonix from the ashes on the Pelennor below them, the sunshine fuller, brighter, holding the promise of peace. After a moment Eowyn turned about so that her blue eyes were fastened instead upon Faramir's face. She took in his formal attire and read the anxiety in his troubled countenance, her calm content vanishing.

"You are leaving," she said abruptly. He nodded slowly and reluctantly at her as Merry watched their interchange with wide eyes.

"I am afraid that I must. There is much to be done to prepare for the king's return. I have been given leave from these houses under the condition that I do not tax myself overmuch."

"Thought you are not yet healed? Faramir..." Eowyn's face pinched in worry as she took in the near-concealed bandage beneath his starched collar.

He turned to her fully then, smiling kindly at her. "I am well enough Eowyn, though I am loathe to leave you."

The White Lady found that she could not reply and looked away with a blush, thoughts rushing through her head, her feelings in turmoil. Then why must you go? Do not leave me here alone...

"Because it is my duty," he responded, and Eowyn stiffened as she realised she had spoken aloud, her words ringing petulantly in her own ears. "I will return as often as I am able, and you will not be alone. Young Master Merriadoc wil be always at your side -unless I am much mistaken." Faramir continued, smiling at the curly headed hobbit as he nodded, agreeing emphatically.

"Yes I shall!"

"Forgive me Merry, I did not mean-"

"I know my Lady," Merry interrupted her apology, his eyes twinkling with understanding and mischief. He caught her shocked blush and hastily retreated to find breakfast to give his companions time alone.

"You shall always be in my thoughts, Eowyn, when I am not here to be by your side." Faramir said softly, once Merry had departed.

Eowyn trembled as Faramir's hand reached out to cup her cheek, turning her face towards his own. He caressed it lightly, reading the fear in her eyes, compassion softening his own as he mumbled softly to her, with a shake of his head, "Do you not trust me? I will return."

"I know. I am sorry. I must seem so selfish."

"Nay, if I were to listen to my heart I would stay with you always." Faramir said. He dropped his hand then, turning away as he bit his lip, afraid of saying too much.

The shieldmaiden of Rohan stilled as he spoke, her mind reeling at his words, the look in his eyes, the memory of his soft warm lips...and her heart cried out when he removed his palm from her face. She caught it up quickly from his lap a moment later and gave it a squeeze as tears leaked from her eyes. He held it in return, though his gaze remained fastened on the East, lost in thought.

"I must go, I have tarried too long. I am expected."

Eowyn glanced up as Faramir reluctantly dropped her hand, slowly standing. She hastily jumped to her feet, feeling suddenly stupid as she gaped at him wordlessly. A benevolent smile passed his handsome face, yet she saw in it a melancholic strain, as of one whose heart was aching. She stepped towards him, longing to ease his obvious pain, oblivious to its cause.

"Meleth nin," he mumbled, gently, holding her close with a deep sigh. She steeled herself against her tears and sank into his arms willingly, enjoying the warmth and comfort they offered. After a moment he pulled back and took up her hand, pressing a kiss against it. "Meleth nin, I will return," he whispered, his own eyes bright. And with that he turned about and strode from the gardens, leaving the White Lady alone upon the walls.


It was dark when he next came to her, and still she sat upon the walls. She heard not his soft approach, her mind busy with many thoughts and worries.

"You seem troubled. Are you well?" Faramir's deep voice was hushed yet startled her nonetheless.

"I am quite well," she murmured, falling silent once more. She pulled her starry mantle about her with a sigh as he seated himself beside her with a groan and a jingle of keys. She turned to him then, taking in the strain written clearly upon his handsome face, the tension and weight of burden pressing down upon his broad shoulders.

"And you, are you well this evening?" she asked gently.

A ragged sigh escaped him, "I am well enough. How does Merry fare?"

"He is worried about his cousins...we have still had no word from the Black Gate. I fear for my brother also," she admitted quietly, banishing the tears forming in her eyes before they had the chance to fall.

"Eowyn," Faramir breathed, sliding closer to her to take up her chilled palm. She heard the compassion in his voice, felt the concern and understanding in his gaze as it roved across her pale face, yet she could not bring herself to do more than stare into the night. "Eomer is a strong man. It may be yet that he-"

"Comfort me not with false words," she said sharply, tugging away her hand, unable to harbour any hope for fear of yet more loss and devastation.

"I do not speak falsely, Lady, though if you wish me to remain silent I shall."

She cringed as the young Steward spoke, cursing her spiteful tongue as her tears began anew. Through them she gazed out at the East, thinking of her brother, praying for his safe return and stoic presence. Eowyn found herself then wondering what he would make of the handsome Captain of Gondor if he were to meet him. A smile touched her countenence then and a sigh escaped her, carried away by the soughing breeze.

After an interval of silence she carefully turned her head to watch Faramir, hoping she had not angered or hurt him with her bitter words. He seemed not to notice her gaze, his grey eyes locked onto the stars overhead with unwavering intensity. By their light she saw the shadows ringing his eyes and became aware how late it was, a pang of guilt surging through her; he had come to visit her to fulfil his promise and she had met him with barbed words and silence, yet still he remained, his presence warm and solid at her side.

"You must be weary," she spoke gently, fighting an urge to stroke her hand through the raven locks before her. His head dropped then, hanging limply between his knees as he brought them up to his chest.

"There is much to do," he admitted, scrubbing a hand over his jaw as his eyes flickered over to her.

Eowyn's brows pinched in sympathy, he looked lost suddenly, overwhelmed with responsibility and duty. She wanted to look after him as he had done so often for her.

"Perhaps you should get some rest," she suggested. He nodded but made no move to get up, instead leaned closer to her, his hand tucking a tendril of stray hair behind her ear.

"I do not wish to go yet," the young ranger said softly.

"I do not wish it of you either, Faramir, but neither do I wish you to harm yourself by not taking the rest you need."

"Hush, I will come by no harm when I am near you, Meleth nin," he whispered, pressing a finger against her lips, tracing the gentle curves there. Eowyn shivered in response to the light touch, her lips parting with shock and desire. She drew closer to him as he dipped his head neared to her own, knowing that the intense longing held in Faramir's eyes was mirrored in her own. Yet suddenly he drew back, pain and doubt clear in his eyes now as he looked over her face.

"Faramir," she mumbled, confused.

"Forgive me, I should not have -" he broke off, shaking his head in obvious agitation and distress as he rose to his feet.

"You are leaving?" Eowyn asked then, voice laced with uncertainty and pain.

"Perhaps it is best," came the Captain's hesitant response. He held out a hand to help her to her feet and she felt the trembling in his palm, nodding her agreement. She let him steer her to her rooms, standing before him wordlessly on the threshold. Waiting...

He murmured a goodnight and turned on his heel swiftly, his body melting into the deep shadows before she found her voice.

"Faramir!"

He slowed and came back into the light, and she closed the distance between them, staring up into his sad eyes, her own full of questions.

"Why did you call me Meleth nin? What does it mean?" she asked suddenly, unexpectedly. The White Lady was shocked at the flush that spread over Faramir's visage, and the pallour that followed as his fine grey eyes filled with tears.

"Do you not know?" his melodious voice was strained. He blinked and a tear was let loose as she shook her head. A bittersweet smile flitted over his face then as he reached out a strong hand to caress her soft cheek once more. "It matters not..."

Faramir said, his expression one of utmost pain. He bit into his full lips to stop their trembling, drawing blood with the force.

"Stop! Faramir, what is wrong?" Eowyn cried, her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. Still he shook his head.

"Please, Eowyn, it matters not!" I cannot give you what you seek...

"Yet clearly it does!" she insisted, holding him so that he could not escape.

"Is everything alright?" Merry's sleepy voice interrupted them a moment later, his worried eyes going between the two of them.

"Fine, Merry, thank you. Goodnight," Faramir said, turning about, his figure vanishing moments later. Eowyn stared after him, breathing hard, her fists clenched at her side in a vain attempt to still thier trembling.

"My lady?"

Her golden head turned to face him then and the little hobbit saw the confusion and hurt vying for first place in her gaze. He immediately took her hand.

"I am sorry, Merry..." she mumbled sadly, turning back hoping to catch a glimpse of Faramir, knowing he was gone, her voice thick with tears as she continued, "Goodnight my friend."

With that she dropped his palm and barred the door to her room, tears dampening her face as she meandered across her room towards the open window, the night air drying the watery streaks in a poor substitute to the gentle warmth of a hand she had grown accustomed to.

"Why did he leave?" Eowyn asked aloud, her voice young and sad and full of misunderstanding. She snorted bitterly then. "I am a shieldmaiden, what do I know of matters of the heart..."


Faramir briskly made his way to the Steward's chambers, his flight through the city leaving him breathless and tremulous. He sank gratefully into a high backed chair, fisting his hands through his hair. I have said too much...I should have kept silent...I cannot compare to Aragorn...

He closed his eyes against the whirling dots dancing before him, a shaky sigh escaping him a moment later. He glanced up at the papers strewn about his father's office. He would find no rest tonight; he had neglected his duties too long and had much to atone for. He pulled the chair closer to the desk and began pouring over the papers stacked about him, ordering them as best he could by the light of a few dim candles. He was disturbed a while later by a servant who had brought a tray of food, suspecting that the young lord had gone without dinner. Faramir hastily shewed them away, taking a few scant morsels to keep up his strength, before turning back to his work. All through the night he made new lists and penned letters, eventually falling asleep for a short time before dawn. He was roused at first light with breakfast, his fatigue denying the prospect of food with an unhealthy churning. Instead he washed quickly and dressed, his befuddled mind and weary body already protesting his work load, screaming at him for rest. Come mid-morning a letter arrived and it was with a shaking hand that he opened it.

"Valar be praised," he mumbled, wiping his dewy eyes. It was from Imrahil; he and his sons had survived the battle. The young Captain's thoughts instantly went to his friends in the Houses of Healing and he knew that he would find no peace until he had made amends for his actions the night before, and till he knew how their loved ones fared. He found the White Lady and the perian under the cherry blossom in the gardens, the sun warming their happy faces.

"Have you had news from the Cormallen?" Faramir asked, his expression full of hope at the light in both their eyes.

Eowyn nodded at him amidst her tears as Merry chattered on about Pippin, Frodo and Sam, and Faramir felt his eyes mist over with the joy of it all.

"...I am leaving tomorrow. They have asked us go and to and celebrate with them!" Merry exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on his wide hairy feet and weaving away to pack his things.

Faramir smiled, nodding quietly at Merry's words. He had expected no less, but was nonetheless saddened by the sudden loneliness that wound its way about his heart as if to squeeze away his happiness. He had eyes only for Eowyn, wondering at the disquiet on her pensieve face. "And you, my lady?" he prompted hesitantly.

"My brother has also asked for my presence," she said softly, watching his reaction, seeing the flicker of loss in his eyes before he shielded them from view. She sat up straighter, twirling her hair in her hands in indesicion. I am not sure that I want to go...not like this...

"That is well indeed," he said,"You must send them my best. I hope I shall have everything in order when you return.''

The dark haired Captain looked at the White Lady gently, "I will miss you, Eowyn. Forgive me. I should have answered you last night..."

She looked at him long and steady, reading something deep within his grey eyes that both scared and excited her, something that she dared not hope for yet could not stop. Perhaps my heart does not lie...

"Nay," she said aloud, "It is I who am sorry. I should not have pressed you so, I had no wish to distress you..."

"It is already forgiven," he smiled, "I wondered if perhaps you would help me with something? Would you follow me?"

Eowyn smiled, nodding and taking up Faramir's arm as he lead her down through Minas Tirith, her eyes wide as she gazed about her with wonder at the grandeur and might of the great stone city, even in its desolate ruinous state. It was a marvel of strength tempered with beauty, remote and full of whispered histories lingering in shadowed courtyards, proud, majestic, sorrowful. Eowyn felt as if the stone walls contained the heart of the people of Gondor, beating and shielded beneath the strong foundations of the city, a heart that had suffered but was regaining in strength now that laughter could be heard once more. She now understood the love the men of the South had of this place.

As she walked she also watched Faramir; she saw the great fatigue that seemed to emanate from him, the drawn pallor of his cheeks even under the sunlight, the tight pinch about his eyes as he looked about him at his fallen home. And she saw more than all the love he had for his city, the determination keen in his eyes as he pointed out all that he would put right.

"You are a good man," she said suddenly. He stopped short, gazing down at her with an unreadable expression.

"You cannot know what it means to hear you say that Eowyn, I thank you. But come! I want to show you something..." and so he tugged a little faster on her arm and she laughed as she hurried to keep up with his long legs. When next he slowed it was before a large barn.

"I thought, perhaps, you might be able to help me decide which of our horses are now fit for work and travel..?" the young Captain turned to her questioningly. She beamed at him happily.

"Of course! It would be an honour," Eowyn returned, striding excitedly into the stables. As she looked about her she saw that many of the horses housed there were indeed injured, but that they were well looked after. A stable boy gaped at her as she passed and she smiled to herself as Faramir explained her errand, squirming at the young lad's praise of his valour a moment later. She soon blocked out their voices, pacing the length of the hall to look upon each of the horses within. She turned back to Faramir as he approached her, her golden hair billowing about her.

"Thank you," she said softly, "I know you could have tended to this task without my aid; I am grateful for the help I can give you and for the time away from the healers."

Faramir's grey eyes twinkled at her knowingly as a slow smile traversed across his handsome face. The White Lady let out a short laugh and began tending to the horses, singing softly to herself in Rohirric as she worked, unaware of the wistful look in the young Captain's eyes as he watched her.

"You sing well," he said a while later, garnering a blush from the beautiful maid as she hid behind her veil of golden tresses. "It brings me joy to see you thus happy, Eowyn," Faramir said gently, taking up a brush to begin grooming the mount next to hers, averting his gaze from her slender figure. He busied himself with the work, soon breaking into a light sweat as the sun rose higher in the sky and the heat within the stable became stiffling, only the lilting of Eowyn's sweet voice reminding him of the passage of time. He ran a strong hand through his hair with a sigh, swaying a little, before promptly divesting himself of his black tunic. Feeling instantly relieved he began to work again, now enjoying the feel of a light breeze upon his flesh.

"So this is how the Steward of Gondor passes his days?" Eowyn's voice interrupted his work and he turned to her startled, his face flushing guiltily before he saw the amused flicker in her eyes.

"If it is good enough for the beautiful Princess of Rohan, then so it shall be for the lowly Steward of Gondor," he replied with a bow, content with the bashful smile he was rewarded with.

"I did not know the men of Gondor were come to rival the Horse Lords," she said, watching his skill as he gently yet willfully handled the beast before him, pleased at the laugh that erupted from him a moment later as he swung about to look at her, his grey eyes full of mirth. Eowyn found herself blushing as she took in the sheen of sweat clinging to the leanly muscled body visible beneath his thin shift. He was exceedingly handsome.

"You are too generous," he said smiling with a shake of his raven head. He held out a handful of oats to the questing horse before him, petting its snout as it nuzzled him in thanks, murmuring to it in elvish before making his way to stand by Eowyn once more. "I must go now, I have lingered here too long. Forgive me, I should like to stay."

The blond Rohirrim smiled in understanding. "You will return?" she asked.

"I shall," Faramir promised. "Though I do not know when I shall be able..." he admitted ruefully, running a hand through his hair once more. Eowyn laughed, leaning closer to him to pluck a stray piece of straw from his locks.

"It matters not, I will wait here for you." She promised.

Grey eyes gazed back at blue, steadily, and for a time neither of them spoke as they looked at one another, hope lighting each of their gazes.

Faramir suddenly smiled as he looked into her upturned face, and on impulse pressed a light kiss to her cheek in farewell before departing to his father's office once more. It was still dark inside, despite the sunlight filtering through the dusty window panes, and the air was chill, though the fire blazed in the corner. Faramir walked over to it, slowly, nervously fisting the tunic he held in his hands. His heart beat quickened.

Bring wood and oil! He is already burning...we must burn...no tomb for Faramir and Denethor...we must burn...

The young ranger gasped, trembling at the echoes whirling about his head and swooning against the wall.

"No..." he mumbled vehemently, "It cannot be..."

He staggered back, away from the images dancing to life amidst the flames, his hand raising to shield them from view as his breaths quickened. This day should not be yours…

"I never wanted this!" Faramir breathed emphatically, his grey eyes holding only anguish and self-loathing as he shook his raven head. He turned away only to catch sight of himself in a mirror; but he saw only his father's hateful face sneering back at him. You should have burned...

The young Captain of Ithilien cried out, hurt and anger and pain battling for supremacy in the gutteral noise. It was too much to bear. He struck out at the mirror as the image morphed into one more hated than his father's; his own. He dimly registered the shattering of the silvery surface, the slickening of red blood across his quivering hands, the heat of tears scalding down his cheeks as renegade shards pierced his flesh. None of it mattered.

"I did everything you ever asked!" he said mournfully, his heart breaking with the final realisation that his father had not only wished for his death, but had contrived it. The memories were clear now; he could see the gleam of despair and hatred in his father's eyes as he burned, the anger that he had failed to take his son with him...flames everywhere, questing over him, engulfing him...

Drowning in despair, the young ranger sank to his knees, his broad chest heaving with silent sobs as his vision shimmered, dimmed and went black.


He came to with a cool hand pressed against his heated brow, a low murmuring escaping his parted lips.

"Faramir! Please, open your eyes..."

And he obeyed the sweet voice full of concern, fighting his way towards it.

"Meleth nin," he whispered huskily, a smile almost reaching his eyes before tears sprang there first. She does not love you...how could she? How could anyone, even were she less perfect? Even your father hated you...

He turned away from her cool hand, sitting up suddenly, swaying, looking around him through the gloom at the destruction he had wrought with shame and regret. He felt Eowyn's eyes on him but could not meet her questioning gaze.

"Faramir..." she said, trailing off uncertainly as he bowed his head with sorrow, his gaze fastened upon the dying embers of the fire before him. She felt her heart stop for a moment. The White Lady forced his eyes upon her, her own full of sympathy as she read the devastation they held. He knew. Wordlessly she pulled him towards her, her hands running through his soft raven hair as she soothed him. He sank into her, holding onto her as if a lifeline, and Eowyn's tears soon joined his as she listened to his grief. After a time he quieted somewhat and she drew his head away from her shoulder to look upon him. Concern washed over her face as she took in the plethora of tiny cuts marring his handsome face, her hands ghosting over them carefully. He caught them up in his own and her gaze was drawn to the bloodied mess with horror.

"What have you done to yourself?" she breathed softly.

The young Rohirrim was shocked by the bitter laugh that Faramir emitted at that, as well as the dark expression etched upon his face as he dropped her hands to look at his own.

"It is but another reminder of my worth," he said, his voice hoarse from tears and devoid of its usual gentle warmth.

"No!" Eowyn replied, shaking her golden head as she picked up his hands. She bent over and kissed each of them tenderly, careful not to hurt him further, watching the disbelief in his grey eyes. "Your worth is greater than I can tell you, Faramir. How can you doubt it?"

She was not surprised by his silence as she gazed up at him, though she needed him to know what he meant to her, how lost she would be without him, and whilst she found no words fitting of his place in her heart the gentle kiss she pressed against his lips told him more than he could have hoped for.

Eowyn's blue eyes were full of embarrassment, her normally pale cheeks suffused with a light pink as she smiled at Faramir, helping him to his feet. He swayed precariously and she ushered him onto a chair as she rang a bell, calling for a tray of food to be brought to them as well as bandages so that she could bind his wounds.

"Ioreth would not be pleased if she saw that this was the way you take care of yourself..."

"I know," Faramir nodded, quietly watching Eowyn's figure as she laid out the trays that arrived a moment later. "You are beautiful," he murmed as she knelt before him, taking his hands. She stilled, her eyes meeting his, conscious of the proximity of their bodies and the heat pouring from his. He looked at her intently, dark eyes full of amazement tinged with longing, and she dipped her head with a smile and began working on his wounds silently, unsure of what she saw in his gaze, if it could be that which she wanted...

"Now," she said briskly, once she had finished, "You need to eat something, and so must I."

"Forgive me, Eowyn, I did not wish to-"

"It is forgotten. Do not fret; I knew something must have been wrong when you did not come back to the stables, and then it got so late and I was awfully worried about you. I am glad I came to you when I did..." Eowyn hushed him, concern tangible in her words as she smiled kindly. He questioned her about the horses and she noted the worry creep into his eyes as they strayed to the papers littered about the darkened room.

"Faramir you must rest!" she said imploringly, pointedly following his gaze.

He sighed, nodding wearily. "You are right...it is just...I have done little save to make a mess this day...I should-"

"Nay. You need sleep. Do not make yourself ill. Please, Faramir...listen to me." Eowyn urged. He paused, taking in the alarm on her visage, the deep concern in the wells of blue gazing back at him. And he agreed. He could see that she was worried about him, for him, and he had no wish to strain her and to threaten her recovery. The smile she bestowed upon him then made his heart leap and his mood brighten until he recalled her imminent departure for the celebrations in Cormallen.

"I will miss you," he said soberly, the weight of his true feelings for her at that moment shining, unbidden, from his eyes.

Eowyn felt her eyes mist over as she looked back at him. She could scarcely believe it, was too terrified to believe it. But she could no longer deny the feelings blossoming in her own heart and the hope his tenderness has kindled there. She gazed at him steadily, biting her lip, still unsure if she wanted to depart for the celebrations. The expression on his handsome face told her to stay, the clenching of her heart as she thought of leaving him echoing the sentiment. Flustered by her thoughts she dropped her gaze, seeing the flash of hurt on Faramir's face as she turned away, making to clear up the tiny reflective shards strewn about the floor. His gaze was heavy upon her back.

"I am not leaving," she blurted.

His warm hand landed upon her arm then and she slowly turned back to him, leaning into the palm he held against her cheek. His soulful eyes spoke of understanding yet he remained silent, reluctant to voice the hope burgeoning within him, but she could see it, a tiny spark of happiness amidst the tides of despair and loss. She wanted so much to still those tides.

"Eowyn," Faramir whispered, and his voice was laced with so many emotions that the young Rohirrim could not speak. She merely stood before him, trembling with uncertainty, aching. He drew closer to her, the warmth of his body enveloping her as he wrapped her in his strong embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of her golden head. She turned her face up towards him then, questions and answers brimming forth from the depths of her blue gaze. A tender smile spread over the pale face before her.

"Eowyn..." he murmured, tracing the line of her proud jaw as he stooped down to capture her tear-stained lips in a brief kiss. His eyes were bright as he stared down at her then, searching, questioning...and she did not know what he saw in her eyes but it made him smile.

"My lord, excuse me," a voice interrupted, and Eowyn stepped out of Faramir's arms, a blush colouring her cheeks as they were joined by a servant who carried away their tray, eyes full of laughter as he took in their discomposure. She cringed. Rumours would be all over the Citadel by the morning.

"I should go..." she said quietly, a rebellious voice in her head countering her words, Why not stay? Let them talk.

The young Captain nodded silently, reluctantly, a hand ruffling through his raven locks.

"Goodnight, Faramir, get some rest," Eowyn said gently, a nervous smile lingering about her lips. And with that she was gone, the trace of her perfumed hair and the taste of her lips nothing but a memory. Faramir let loose a heartfelt sigh and walked towards the dirt smeared window, throwing it wide to let the cool night air caress his warmed cheeks. Leaning against the sill he let his mind wander, recalling Eowyn's words and eyes, catching sight of her beautiful shimmering hair on the street below a moment later. He could not believe his own boldness and emitted a short laugh. Yet Eowyn had not appeared frightened, nor repulsed by his advance - indeed had even gently kissed him herself. He sighed wistfully.

Perhaps I may yet hope to capture her heart...


Eowyn returned to the Houses of Healing, confusion raging within her. She wandered alone through the gardens, dwelling on the time she had spent with Faramir there, aching for his solid, soothing presence beside her now as loneliness encompassed her. Her long fingers pinched at the hem of her mantle, drawing it against her as a breeze ruffled through her golden tresses in echo of the sigh that filled her lungs. His lips had been soft and warm against her own; tentative, tender, comforting. A thrill of remembrance shivered through the White Lady's slender frame. She wanted to feel his lips again, to feel his strong arms holding her body against his, hear his heartbeat beneath her ear...

Thoughts of the handsome Captain lingered in her mind and her sleep that night was fitful. It was early in the morning when she arose, tired and filled with trepidation, longing for Faramir's silhouette to appear. But he did not come. Sorrowful and disappointed she bade farewell to Merry as he too left her. With only herself for company she soon grew distant, becoming lost in her memories and thoughts, unresponsive to the attention of the Healers.

Mayhap I should have done as I was bidden and joined my brother...for it seems he alone cares for me now...

"Why did I stay here?" she mumbled, gazing up at the clear sky, blue eyes filled with pain. Faramir...her traitorous mind supplied.

Her pale face blanched yet further as tears clouded her vision, her own words coming back to her. Your worth is greater than I can say...Eowyn released a huff of laughter as her tears scalded across her cheeks, dashing them away angrily a moment later; I love you...why could I not say thus? For so it must be. I can see it now.

Bitterly she wept then, her head cradled upon her lap as she lay upon the grass, her golden locks spread about her glinting in the sunlight. Voices drifted to her, bourn upon the warm breeze; they were full of joy and mirth and made her cry in greater earnest. It seemed she alone was sorrowful. For her heart had broken anew and Eowyn felt the hope within her fade as her dreams crumbled. They had been in vain. Faramir had not come.


A/N: More to come soon, should be a quicker update as my exam period is drawing to a close next week :) Hope you all enjoyed it and that the length made up for the delay! Thanks for reading x