Many Partings
Disclaimer: The quotes used in this short story can be found on page 285 of the paperback copy of Return of the King. All characters contained within are owned by JRR Tolkien. I am making no money off of this piece.
A/N: An emotionally identical experience to Eowyn's in my life is what brought about this story, which is why I believe the emotions portrayed are accurate enough to stand alone instead of adding more chapters or plot.
My hand unconsciously tightens on Faramir's as Aragorn rises to speak, feeling the warmth of his hand melding with my own, giving me strength as it did in the House of Healing, when the darkness to the East was my only thought. Soon we are to be wed, yet I feel it is not the time for too many weights and debts yet lie on my heart, though I cover it with the joyful exterior of a soon-to-be-bride. For though I love Faramir and rejoice in that love there is still one who holds my heart at his mercy, though he knows it not.
Aragorn, or should I called you Elessar? For you are no longer the weary, travel-stained man who came into the golden hall of Meduseld and set me free even whilst chaining me to you tighter than any ties of deceit and blackmail that Grìma ever forged. Perhaps I should not even call you that, but my King, as you soon shall be. But is it truly so? Is there not time yet? For I feel as if I have come to a crossroads. Down one path lies security and love, a love that I do not need to fight for or pine over. Down another lies a questionable life that may lead to unhappy solitude...or a crown. More importantly, a love that I desired, still desire, as a parched man desires water. I need only to step off the road I now walk to come to the other. For the former may not be as happy in the short term but in the long term it promises much joy to come. The latter promises the culmination of all that I desire.
He gazes at us, a serene smile lightens his features and unconsciously I lean towards it, as one trying to draw heat from a distant star. For all his powers of perception and insight, he does not recognize that the euphoric glow that lights my face is from his presence, thinking perhaps that it is the reflected light of my love for Faramir. Perhaps it is, but Faramir, my beloved, is not foremost in my thought right now.
Does he know the power he holds over my life in this precarious moment? He has but to grant me a single smile and I will fly from the arms of Faramir, forgetting all comely affection and thrust myself into whatever world Aragorn takes me too. Even unto the end of the world!
I catch his eye endeavoring to place all my heart into a single glance. My fingers twitch weakly, as if trying to thrust Faramir from my side. Before I can speak he turns to Èomer, who stands not far from us, and says jokingly, "No niggard are you, Èomer, to give thus to Gondor the fairest thing in your realms!"
My heart leaps, seeking to find some double meaning in his words.
His gaze settles back on me, waiting for my next move.
"Wish me joy, my liege-lord and healer!" I say, my voice tinged with longing. Say nay! I cry in the innermost chambers of my heart. Say that you do not wish this marriage for love of me. And if thou wilt not speak it, say it with thine eyes and I am yours!
Does he read my thoughts? Nay, for his eyes do not waver but rather fill with a fatherly affection. Though his gaze is warm I feel my heart go cold. Like the heat of a summer day suddenly disrupted by a wintry blast.
"I have wished thee joy ever since I first saw thee," he says, "It heals my heart to see thee now in bliss."
And that was all.
He turns back to Èomer and the two change their conversation from love to that of kingship and its burdens. After a moment Faramir turns from me, whispering soft words in my ear before joining the other men's conversation. For a moment I stand there, listening to the sound of my heart breaking and feeling that impossible road crumble to dust. No anger, no tears, just an emptiness that cries out with its final breath, "I love you!" Before it turns back onto the truth path without looking back.
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