Hopes and Dreams
Chapter 14: Doubt and Memory
The days that followed were joyous and full of preparations for the return of the king. Minas Tirith was alive with excitement and song. Sunlight greeted Eowyn each morning with a smile that echoed the resounding happiness of her soul. No longer did she sit idle, gazing East upon the walls in search of her heart's desire, nor for a measure of peace- she had found love within the walls of the stone city she had thought akin to a cage and it was now dear to her. And so she did all she could to help rebuild it, for she had been deemed fit to leave the Healing Houses, though still she resided there, learning the lore of herbs, always smiling. Faramir came to her as often as his duties as Steward would permit and they walked hand in hand through the gardens each night, gazing out at the stars strewn overhead, twinkling and bright in an ever- clear sky.
"This scarcely feels real…" Faramir murmured one night as he looked out at the healing lands below him, lit up by the power of the heavens. His eyes were bright and Eowyn smiled at him, a comforting hand winding around his strong arm. He dropped his gaze to her face instead, shaking his head in happiness tinged with disbelief.
"Dreams are not always this sweet," Eowyn said, reaching up to place a kiss against the full lips she had grown so fond of. She smiled at the sigh that escaped the handsome man at her side, her eyes dancing as she watched him. The light breeze ruffled his raven locks, pushing them back from his pale face. "Are you alright, Faramir?" she asked, taking in the tiny lines creasing his forehead.
"I am merely worried," he replied with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
"Why?"
Faramir looked down at the woman he hoped to one day call his wife, a sadness veiled behind his smile as he answered, "I do not want to wake up…" he laughed, running a hand through his hair, feeling silly, "If this is a dream, I would have it last for always, Eowyn."
"What are you saying?" her voice was soft and full of concerned confusion.
"I do not want to lose you," he admitted quietly.
"And you will not…Faramir, why would you think that?" Eowyn asked, canting her golden head to one side. She forced his eyes upon her then as he looked away, shocked by the tears she saw. Ignoring his silence she pulled him against her and wrapped her arms about him. He held her tightly, his far reaching gaze drawn to the dim flicker of light upon the horizon. The king would soon return.
The sky was a perfect bright blue. Faramir smiled, reminded of Eowyn's beautiful gaze. A contented sigh left his lips as he strolled along the streets of the White City, the air full of laughter and birds calling to one another softly from the treetops. The War of the Ring was over and a feeling of peace was come to the young ranger as he walked, carefree, through his home city. His feet followed the winding cobbled streets of their own accord and so he dutifully trod the path they ordained, humming gently to himself and smiling serenely.
After a time the birdsong ceased and clouds mustered overhead. Unease grew in the pit of his stomach. A shrill cry rent the air.
"No!" Faramir whispered, dismayed, as a dark shadow wheeled overhead, obscuring the sunlight. Darkness followed in the wake of the Fell Beast's leathery wings and Faramir backed away from the Nazgul as it landed before him, clawed feet clacking upon the cobbles.
Eyes of fire bored into him as he stood frozen in horror, his father's voice reaching him from the creature's face "…Your places should have been exchanged…"
"This cannot be…" Faramir shook his head in disbelief.
A rictus broke out onto the face before him and Faramir found himself staggering away from the foul vision before him as a pain blossomed over his chest. He tore along the empty street, death snapping greedily at his heels. Sweat beaded upon his brow and trickled down his spine as he ran, suddenly turning cold as he realized where he was.
The Silent Street. Rath Dinen. The Houses of the Dead.
Grey eyes widened in revulsion and dismay for the way was paved with blood.
But he could not stop, though his pursuer had vanished. Slowly, inexorably, he was drawn onwards…onwards into darkness so thick it was almost palpable.
"Your places should have been exchanged."
This time the voice was soft and quiet and sad. And it pierced into Faramir's very soul. He followed it against his will, an ache growing in his heart even as a leaden pit formed in his stomach. He passed the threshold of the Steward's house, the coldness of the tomb creeping like an entity up his back, chilling him to the core.
"Eowyn..?" he reeled as her figure materialized out of the gloom, the words repeating themselves falling from her rosy lips. Thick tears dropped from her eyes as hands grabbed him from behind. The dark haired ranger struggled against the gnarled, aged fingers gripping him, unable to dislodge them before he was forced onto a pile of dry wood.
It reeked of oil.
"No!" he screamed, thrashing as the sound of his brother's horn filled his mind.
"Yes," the malice in the sibilantly uttered word focused his mind once more, the withered hands once again appearing before his eyes. "Yes, my son, I wish this…bring wood and oil!"
Madness gleamed in the eyes of Denethor as he beckoned to Eowyn and Faramir realized that it was not tears that fell so thick from her eyes. It was oil.
"Stop, please! Eowyn, do you not love me?" Faramir implored, turning beseeching eyes filled with pain towards her.
Unimaginably agony ripped through Faramir's body as flames suddenly reared around him. A shrill laugh echoed throughout the dim tomb, its timbre resonating with insanity that matched the smile that split Denethor's craggy face in pleasure as he listened to his son's cries, flames dancing merrily in his eyes. Faramir turned away from the image, his eyes once again drawn to the beautiful woman standing as if a statue beside him.
"Do you not love me?"
She merely blinked at him, oil dripping over her face as she replied coldly, "I wished to be loved by another…"
And with that Eowyn turned and stalked away, drawn towards a tall man standing silhouetted against the doorway, only the light of a green gem glimmering upon his forehead yielding a clue to his identity.
The young Captain of Gondor awoke with a strangled cry. His heart battered furiously against his ribs as if seeking escape from the confines of his chest and tears mingled with sweat upon his pale face. A choked sob was released past his tight throat as Faramir reached a trembling hand up to swipe at his dewy brow, face contorted against the echo of pain residing in his heart.
He stood and paced to the windows, letting the cool morning air calm his senses as a knock startled him from his dark reverie.
"Come," he called, his voice haggard and exhausted to his own ears. He cringed.
A household maid entered his chamber, burdened by a large vat filled with steaming water which she then poured into his bathtub before excusing herself.
Faramir divested himself of his bedclothes and sank gratefully into the bath. The warmth eased the ache in his taut muscles but did little to quell the lingering uncertainty roiling within his gut. Aragorn was to return today. What if Eowyn did have feelings for him still? What if she was merely resigning herself to second best by accepting his proposal? Such were the thoughts that plagued the young ranger throughout the morning as he made the last preparations for the king's return, his nightmare never far from the forefront of his mind.
Thus it was that the Lady of Rohan found him in the gardens of the Houses of Healing, seated at a low bench, lost in troubled thoughts and seeking some solitude away from duties.
"Faramir!" She ran towards him smiling, a basket full of herbs and flowers held loosely in one hand as her golden hair streamed out behind her.
"Good morning," Faramir said, rising and catching her in his arms as she buried her face against his chest. He held her tightly, some of the tension in his posture evaporating. "Did you find rest?"
She nodded, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet in distracted excitement. Taking up his hand she dragged him towards the walls, beaming as she pointed to the column of battle weary riders and bright banners fluttering in the breeze. "He is nearly here!"
Faramir's smile dropped a little as he followed her rapturous gaze. His stomach churned nervously as the sun glinted off a green gem on the forehead of the front rider. It was Aragorn. Old doubts nagged at him. His face paled. I cannot compete with a king…
"I am so happy I can finally introduce you to my brother," Eowyn said, continuing on, oblivious to her lover's woe. Her blue eyes sparkled with happiness as she watched the golden helmed rider beside Aragorn raise his hand in an obvious greeting. She grinned. Eomer had recognized her.
"They will be here by nightfall," She said, turning to Faramir happily. Her face fell when she saw his. It was full of doubt and pain. Before she could speak they were interrupted by a messenger who she quickly dispatched. "Come with me," she said leading Faramir away from the Houses of Healing, down through the meandering levels of the city. He followed her obediently into the stables and at her request mounted onto his horse to follow her.
Once they were outside the gates she turned in her saddle.
"Take me somewhere quiet, where no-one will interrupt us," She pleaded softly.
"As you wish," Faramir nodded, almost smiling amidst his confusion. He cantered forward, enjoying the freedom of wind in his hair once more and the heat of the sun on his back, his troubles forgotten for a time.
Eowyn's face was turned up to the sun, her eyes closed, face full of blissful content as her golden tresses billowed out behind her. It did not seem like the same field she had battled on now, it was springing full of life and the scars of war were slowly diminishing, leaving but faint traces. Faramir could not help but smile at her, her happiness warming his sore heart. He led her towards a little known spot a few miles away from the looming walls of the White City and her watchful sentries.
"Will this suffice?" he asked cheekily.
The Lady of Rohan looked about her, her blue eyes sparkling as she took in her surroundings. The sunlight streamed through gaps in the canopy overhead, cascading over the earth-bound occupants She sought to warm, green grass unmarred by the passage of war flowing more thickly underfoot as if reaching up with unattainable need to the golden shafts above.
"It shall," Eowyn smiled, dismounting with a jump. She stroked her mare softly across the muzzle, murmuring to it in Rohirric. Faramir followed suit and leaned against the trunk of a delicate silvery tree, breathing in deeply the scents of the woods. It was clean, fresh, loamy…it was the smell of home, of Ithilien.
A hand on his chest startled him and his eyes opened in surprise just as Eowyn's soft lips closed over his own. Despite the worry clouding his happiness he could not but respond to her touch, his hands reaching around her back to pull her close as he deepened their kiss. He pulled away a moment later, hand stroking the side of her beautiful face as he gazed into her eyes.
"Why did you want to come here, Eowyn?" he asked.
She looked at him gravely, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes gone. "You are troubled. Talk to me Faramir, please. What pains you? I can see it in your eyes…You should be rejoicing, the king is come!"
Immediately sorrow filled Faramir's soulful eyes as he gave a half smile. His throat constricted as he looked away. Eowyn's face fell in realization.
"You think that I yet love Lord Aragorn…" she whispered in horror. Faramir's continuing silence affirmed her theory and she shook her head almost angrily as she fisted her hands through her hair with a sigh. "Faramir, how can you think that?"
He sighed and sank to the leaf littered floor, the normally calming sound of the burbling pool of sparkling water to his left suddenly roaringly load. Eowyn's gentle hands held his wrists and pulled them away from his face as she sank to her knees before him. His deep, melodic voice cracked as he spoke of his dream, needing to confide his fears in Eowyn.
"Aragorn is the greatest of men…" he spoke softly, his voice hushed with pain as a laugh escaped him, "Why would you settle for me when you could have so much more? When you wanted so much, and deserve so much, more?"
Tears beaded in Eowyn's eyes, painting across a pale face full of naïve disappointment – she had thought that sorrow would be left behind her now but quickly realized how foolish her hopeful thoughts had been; wounds of the heart were harder to heal. She wiped her tears away angrily, her tone emphatic as she forced Faramir's eyes upon her.
"I do not love him, I never truly did…it was as you said a childish admiration – nothing more. Nothing like what I feel for you…Faramir, I want you. Only you. I love you!" Her slender hand gripped his own, placing it over her breast, "My heart belongs to you. Do you not believe me?"
"I only want you to be happy, Eowyn."
"I am happy now. You did that, Faramir. You gave me reason to smile, to laugh, to love…You have naught to fear, for I shall always love you," Eowyn whispered softly, her hands upon his face. She smiled when Faramir looked back up at her, leaning into her palms for a heartbeat.
"Forgive me. I did not mean to doubt you." He murmured gravely.
"You doubted me only because you doubt yourself," Eowyn said ruefully, "You should not. If you saw what I see…" she laughed amidst her tears and shook her head, "…a strong, handsome man, with a good honest heart; how could I not but love you."
"Oh Eowyn," Faramir breathed, a shy smile creeping onto his face. And with that he pulled her into his arms and she settled against his chest with a content sigh as he kissed the top of her head. Thus they sat for some time, watching the play of sunlight upon the cool water burbling alongside them, listening to the sounds of the soughing trees and the chorusing birds chirruping merrily within them.
"Perhaps we should return to the city," Faramir spoke reluctantly into Eowyn's ear.
"Not yet, please," the White Lady implored, hugging his arms about herself fiercely. His deep laugh rumbled through her a moment later and he began trailing gentle kisses down her neck, his fingers resting, feather-light, upon her shoulders as the fabric there slid aside to reveal her unblemished white skin. She trembled against him as he pressed a tender kiss against her bare flesh before pulling her garment over her shoulder safely.
"You are so beautiful, meleth nin," he whispered. Eowyn turned to face him, a blush colouring her cheeks as she read the desire in the dark eyes regarding her. She smiled and kissed him deeply once more before springing lithely to her feet. She sat astride her horse before Faramir even knew what had happened, tossing a challenge over her shoulder as he rose slowly to his feet, brushing leaves from his trousers.
"Do you think you can beat me back to the city, man of Gondor?" she asked cheekily.
Faramir grinned, "Perhaps…"
And with that he leapt upon his horse, catching up with Eowyn a moment later. He kept pace with her mount, cutting his eyes across to capture her own. She smiled and let loose a laugh.
"You ride well, for a man of the South!" she called, putting on an extra burst of speed. Faramir chuckled at that and hunkered lower in his saddle, edging ahead of Eowyn. But the White Lady would not be beaten and sprinted ahead once more, making distance that the Lord of Gondor could not breach. She awaited him at the city gates, a huge smile on her face as she shook her head teasingly.
Faramir snorted in amusement at her antics as they passed under the gates, side by side, and laughingly made their way towards the stables.
The waiting was finally over. Eowyn stood at Faramir's side before the vast ruined gates of Minas Tirith, impatience evident in her rapidly moving eyes, despite her stiff posture. A smile, also, graced her countenance as she cast her gaze from the approaching Army of the West to rest upon Faramir's noble visage. Despite their earlier conversation his nerves were clear to her; the calmness of his face in repose was betrayed by his stormy eyed gaze as he watched the approaching host and its eminent leader. She took his hand in her own, pleased at the grateful yet sheepish smile he bestowed upon her as his cheeks flushed guiltily.
As Faramir turned his attention back to the host Eowyn let her gaze fall upon her brother. Eomer rode at Aragorn's right hand side, his normally stern and proud face lit up by a handsome smile. He bore no obvious wounds and Eowyn felt her heart swell with pride – he would make the people of Rohan a strong and loving king. She sighed a little wistfully, trying to blot out the unhappy events that had lead to his imminent crowning. A single high note echoed across the expanse of the Pelennor and the White Lady felt her resolve weaken as memories flooded her mind.
Forth Eorlingas! The trumpets sounded as the day dawned, clear and bright and true. Tears sprang, unbidden, into Eowyn's eyes as the noise penetrated into her soul, resonant and achingly poignant.
She staggered slightly under the weight of remembrance, her emotions wildly mirroring those that she had felt throughout the Great Battle and at its end. Her uncle's demise was fresh in her mind as she watched her robust, youthful brother near her; sadness enveloped Eowyn as she realized that Theoden had regained his youthful vitality for a few scant days before it was ripped from him cruelly and his might and power had been prematurely snuffed out.
I had wished for death that day…she thought dazedly, and as she felt a reassuring squeeze on her palm an immense gladness spread through her, leaving her fighting the urge to grasp Faramir against her tightly in front of the masses gathered to witness the return of the king. The thought of Faramir alone and without her, full of aching loneliness and sorrow, made her heart rebel.
It seemed he did not share her reservations about public embraces, and as if sensing her changing moods, reached up a comforting hand to caress the side of her face, his own awash with compassion.
"I love you," she whispered, her voice full of warmth and happiness.
"And I you," he returned, smiling.
The young Rohirrim cut her eyes across to the riders once more. Eomer's brows had risen at her exchange with Faramir, a light of curiosity and approval shining there. A blush rose to Eowyn's cheeks as pleasure warmed her. Though nervous of her brother's opinion of Faramir she had always known he would wish her every happiness and be filled with gratitude to whomever had bestowed the same within her. A similar expression of approval, mingled with relief, was painted upon Aragorn's rugged face.
Suddenly his words came back to her and she smiled at his wisdom.
…Have patience; happiness will come to you Eowyn. You are not alone…
Blue eyes turned up once more to meet grey and she smiled. Indeed she was not.
A/N: I'm so glad people are enjoying this story, I'm having great fun writing it. I will be busy the next few weeks with a field mapping project for my university course but will try to write and update as often as I can. Thanks to all of you for your patience with this story and for the many helpful reviews I have been rewarded with. More soon...x