A/N: As promised, here is another chapter. I hope you enjoy this one, in which we meet Faramir, who is not quite what Paige expected... Enjoy!
Chapter 26
It was barely dawn when Paige awoke to movement within her bedchamber. She pulled back the blankets and blinked at the dim candlelight.
Éomer stood with his back to her, pulling on his heavy armour.
"It's time already?" Paige asked, and he immediately turned around. "But it's barely even morning..."
Tightening up his belt he said, "We have far to travel today, and wish to arrive rested at The Black Gate. We shall need all our strength."
Paige attempted to straighten her bed-head, but without a mirror, it still appeared quite disheveled. However, the sight of it managed to bring a smile on Éomer's lips.
"I love seeing you thus in the mornings. It is my favourite time of day."
She smiled. "Help me up. I'll come and see you off."
"Nay!" he replied holding out his hand and sitting upon the bed. "Let us say our farewells here. You must rest. For my sake, if not your own."
Paige sighed. "OK."
He reached out, stroking the top of her head, and moved his hand slowly down to her neck. "Farewell, Paige. Until next we meet."
"Bye, Éomer," she replied, placing her hand on his.
Sometimes kisses are filled with emotion, such as loss or longing. Sometimes it is filled with want and lust. But for Éomer and Paige, the kiss that followed was filled with hope. Hope that they would once again see each other, and be able to fight another day for each other.
Without another word, Éomer left Paige and her room, and quietly shut the door. She could do little but lay there and cry. Why did Théoden have to be such a stick-in-the-mud? What if changing history like she had would cause them to lose the war? And worst, (for Paige at least), what if Éomer would not return?
A servant brought her breakfast, but it sat untouched and cold for hours. It was not until the lunch tray was brought in that Paige stirred at all from her internal stupor.
"M'lady, may I offer a piece of advice?" the serving girl said, boldly.
"Sure," Paige replied, though not really interested.
"Ioreth has said that you may now rise from your bed. Perhaps it is time for you to see the sun."
"I can see it from my window...sort of..."
"Nay, not properly, m'lady. Up with you now," and the girl threw back the covers, and pulled on Paige's arm until she was standing on the cold stone floor.
"Alright! I'm up! I'm up! Sheesh... What kind of servant are you?"
"I am no servant, but a healer. And you have been long in bed, and now require activity. I shall help you dress, and then you are to spend one hour in the fresh air, no more. Understood?"
"Alright... You don't have to be such a Nazi about it though..."
Paige did not have any dresses with her, so the healer went and found a couple that would fit. They were not nearly as fine as Éowyn's, for they were not made for a niece of a king, but they were clean and not so long that Paige tripped on it every time she took a step. The one she chose in the end was a golden homespun linen with a pretty embroidered trim of white flowers around the collar and cuffs.
The healer, who at last identified herself as Haleth, helped Paige to a garden patio bench, where plants and vines grew out of large pots, for they were so high above the earth. A stone balcony provided an excellent view of the surrounding plains, as well as Mordor.
"Now, one hour mind," Haleth said sternly. "And then I shall be back to fetch thee."
"Alright. Thank you, Haleth," Paige replied, already feeling grateful to the woman because she immediately felt better in the fresh air and sunshine. It was a day of springtime, when almost all her cares were blown away. Almost...
"How is it..." a voice said, causing Paige to turn around suddenly, only to see a man she had never before met. He was tall with brown hair, and had piercing green eyes. He was handsome, there were no buts about it. "...I have lived my whole life in Minas Tirith," he continued uninterrupted, "and never before set eyes on your face?"
"I guess it's because I haven't lived here my whole life, unlike you," Paige replied.
The man smiled, and straightened himself. "I am called Faramir," he said, placing his hand on his chest.
Paige could not help but smile. So, this was Faramir... Yes, he would have suited Éowyn very well. "Paige."
But Faramir still appeared confused. "But, Lady Paige, how is it you came here in times of great hardship? The roads are dangerous, and by no means easy..."
"I came with King Théoden and his men."
Faramir balked. "I have never before heard of a king taking ladies with him to war!"
"Yeah, well, in his defence, he didn't exactly know I was coming along. I dressed as a soldier."
"Ah, you are the lady of whom I have heard! You must be very skilled and brave."
"Uh...yes, yes I am," Paige replied, smiling at her own ridiculousness.
He sat next to her, in awe.
"Say," Paige continued, on a more serious note, "I'm sorry about your dad. I always thought he was a bit of a horse's ass, because of how he treated you, but still! It can't be easy for you."
Faramir blinked. "What of my father? Has something happened to him while I was ill? Pray, tell me quickly!"
"Uh..." Oh fuck, Paige thought. Me and my big fucking mouth... "Seriously? No one told you anything?"
Faramir merely shook his head, appearing quite stricken.
"Okay... Well..." Paige took a deep breath. "You see, he'd heard that you were dead, so in a fit of...despair...or perhaps lunacy, he tried to set you on fire, and kinda sorta lit himself on fire in the process. Gandalf came and rescued you, oh, and Pippin, too. You owe them a big 'thanks!'."
"But, what of my father?"
"Right... Well...when he learned that you weren't dead, he was so happy he...started...jumping up and down, and...he jumped so far on his last jump, that he kinda sorta...jumped off the cliff?"
Faramir blinked, as though struggling with contemplation. "Lady Paige, do I hear rightly? Are you telling me my father is dead?"
"I'm sorry," she said, nodding.
And then, the floodgates broke, for Faramir let out a great scream, and immediately clung onto her in a torrent of tears. Quite shocked, there was little Paige could do but gently pat his shoulder in a consolatory manner. But on and on the tears did flow, for to Paige what felt like an eternity.
At last he rose up, his face red and swollen. "Are you okay?" she asked tentatively.
He nodded, but a few tears still managed to escape.
"But, Faramir...he didn't even like you. He was mean to you. A bully."
"I know," Faramir agreed. "Oh, why did my father not love me?" He then grasped hold of her again, and cried for an additional ten minutes.
When the well had at last run dry, he blew his nose on his handkerchief and said, "You see, I thought the fire was a dream. The healer spoke of a poisoned dart, so I had assumed that to be the cause of all my strange dreams."
"Why? What else did you dream?"
"Oh, merely that Aragorn came to my bedside and held my hand," he said dreamily, letting out a sigh.
Paige could not help but scrunch up her face and ogle at the man who would have been Éowyn's husband.
When suddenly Haleth appeared. "M'lady, I said an hour, no more, and an hour it has been. It is time for you to rest."
"Right..." Paige replied, looking apologetically at Faramir. "Sorry. Time to go."
"Must you?" Faramir said with longing as Paige rose up.
But Haleth, a Godsend, was adamant. "Ioreth's orders. You would not seek to interfere with them, would you Master Faramir?"
"Nay, I would not," he replied, and rose up also. "Until tomorrow, Lady Paige," he said, kissing her hand.
"Goody," Paige replied.
Paige had just sat back down upon her bed, when a knock sounded. At first, she was worried that it was Faramir, come to cry on her some more, but then the voice announced himself as Merry.
She happily gave entry, and at once was on her knees to hug her little friend. "Oh, Merry! I'm so happy to see you!"
"And I, you! I must admit, when I saw the Wraith strike your head, I feared the worst. How lucky that you escaped serious injury."
"Lucky that we know a king with magical healing powers, more like..."
At that, Merry laughed too, and at once felt comforted again. "I was feeling much like an old sack, empty and unwanted, for all our friends have gone into battle, leaving us again. How it cheers me to find you here, quite well."
"I feel the same way. It's true, I have no burning wish to see Mordor, but I would just as soon see my end with Éomer than later on without him. Know what I mean?"
"I do indeed," he said, and pulled out his pipe. With the Longbottom Leaf came all the smells of home and of a simpler, happier time, for Paige remembered them, too.
"I met Faramir today. Boromir's brother?" Paige said, curling up on the bed.
"And?"
"Not quite what I was expecting..."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. For one, he's got a serious daddy complex. For another...I think he's kinda gay."
Merry's brow furrowed. "I know not what you mean. Is he happy that his father is dead?"
"Not exactly... More like...he likes Aragorn way more than what's good for him...if ya know what I mean."
Several moments passed when suddenly Merry's brows shot up. "Oh! You mean, he 'ploughs with the other end of his hoe'?"
Paige was impressed. "Is that what you call it? I didn't know there were gay Hobbits."
"Oh, aye there are. Interesting... My, my."
But something much more pressing had been on Paige's thoughts since first waking up in the Houses of Healing. "Merry, what actually happened on the Palinor Fields? After I was struck, I don't remember anything."
Merry sat in a chair which was far too big for him by the fire. Regardless of it's size, he made himself comfortable and continued puffing on his pipe.
"I had never been so frightened in all of my life. And yet there you stood, showing such bravery. It was true then, about courage. It can be found where the greatest fear lives. I saw you pull out something, and spray it into the face of that great monster. How it screamed in agony, and with a single swipe, the King sliced its head clean off. The Witch-King, though I could see only the back of him, seemed to tremble with rage. Perhaps because he would now be forced to walk home."
Merry paused for a moment and smiled, only for it to swiftly fade away with remembering.
"He swung wide, and you darted in front of the king. In a flash, your helmet shattered, and down you went.
'Paige!' I cried out in panic, as all around me was death and fighting on the fields of Palinor. Ahead the Wraith stood, more like a mountain than a man, and equally as fearsome.
Casting such fears aside as best I could, I charged and lunged deep with my blade as high as I could into the back of the Wraith's knee. It screamed out, and swung wide with its mace, but made no impact on me. I do not think it was expecting to see a Hobbit in such a place or time.
The Nazgûl sank down on wounded knee, and cast his mace aside. He drew out his long sword, but either did not, nor could not rise himself off the earth.
Théoden then took aim, and stabbed as best he could at the Wraith's chest, but it was though the Nazgûl wore a hidden vest like old Bilbo's, for the blade did not penetrate, and the Wraith laughed cruelly." Merry shook his head as the memories were thick upon him. "It makes my blood run cold to think of that laugh. But he must not have thought a small Hobbit much of a threat, fool him, for it was then that I swung with all my might with my little sword, and in did it slide like butter.
No scream escaped, no sound at all, but he made a swift movement that I did not see until the last moment, and by then it was too late. Another blade, smaller and more sinister-looking hidden in his other hand, sliced my arm, and instantly, I felt as though I were dropped into freezing cold water.
When I looked again, the Wraith was dissolving into thin air, as though it were merely a shadow of what it once was. And then, it was gone.
But suddenly, I heard a most dreadful scream. It was an agonizing cry, one filled with the most heart-felt sorrow. I turned to see Éomer on his knees beside you, cradling your smashed head in his arms."
"Really?" Paige asked, her voice small.
"Aye. He was sobbing so, I thought you must surely be dead, and my own heart grieved; I thought I should die, too. It was then that a hand reached out, grabbing Éomer's arm. I could not see his face, but I knew it at once. It was Grima. His voice was much altered, but he said, 'Tell Paige: I got there first.' Éomer professed that he did not understand, but Grima only replied, 'I love her.' And then, he said no more.
Éomer continued to weep, and cradle you against his breast, all the while Théoden urging him back to battle and victory. I believe when Éomer did leave you to go and fight, he did so hoping to be killed, so he might join you, for as he ran, he was screaming for his death."
Paige wiped away a tear. And then another. And another. She wept for the loss of her friend. She wept that Éomer had suffered. But most of all, she wept that the entire thing had happened, and because of it, had changed her forever.
"I fear I must go back to my bed," Merry said, climbing off the chair. "My heart is heavy, recounting such events."
"I'm sorry, Merry. I'm sorry I asked."
"Nay, Paige. For it would have to be said sooner or later. But now you know how the Wraith died, and about poor Grima, and how much Éomer truly loves you."
"Can we talk some more tomorrow?" Paige asked, her voice much like a child.
"Aye. Tomorrow. For who knows what the morning may bring."
A/N: So, what did you think? Was Faramir a shock? Look for a new chapter on Monday or Tuesday at the latest. Please review!