Author's Note: Neither "The Lord of the Rings" nor the characters within
belong to me (I'd take Faramir if I could, though). I also do not claim to
be anything near the writer that Tolkien is and never will be. :O) I
started this story at sea, on long nights when I couldn't fall asleep and
long nights on my feet when I couldn't stay awake. I always felt like
there was something missing from Faramir and Éowyn's stories and that Éowyn
left her brother, her people and her homeland rather easily. I hope you
enjoy the story.
*Update: I have changed the story slightly in chapters 1 and 3 so far (3 more than 1). I wanted to address the issue of Faramir asking Éomer's permission. Tell me what you think!
The coming dawn drew slowly upon Gondor. Neither light nor glow, but instead a dull outline, where before there had only been darkness. First the far mountains became visible, like shadows out of mist. Then the fields below came into view, colorless and mysterious, still hiding the scars of battle; scorched earth stretching away from the gates of Minas Tirith. Slowly the gray became purple and pink, and the Eastern sky was set on fire with the coming of the sun. This scene had been replayed every day for years without number, but on this morning all the people of Gondor arose to watch. For today their King would return, and the banner of the Stewards, protectors of the realm, would fly no more over Minas Tirith. The people stood on rooftops, in the streets and high on the walls surrounding the city, hoping to be the first to announce the King's approach. And though most stared out into the fading darkness, some turned their heads back to the walls above them, and strained their eyes through the mist to see two figures, Lord Faramir the Steward, and Lady Éowyn of Rohan, who stood high above them in the courtyard of the tower. They watched their ruler as one would watch a star at dawn, knowing that it would soon disappear with the coming of the sun.
Neither Éowyn nor Faramir had been able to sleep, and they had instead spent the night walking through the quiet streets and courtyards, sharing their dreams and fears and simply enjoying the nearness of the other. "It is strange," Faramir said quietly as they walked, hand in hand, and stopped in the courtyard overlooking the city below, "that the Stewardship has claimed the lives of all my family, and yet I remain only to hand over responsibility to another. My mother was born near the sea and grew up loving freedom and companionship. But she fell in love with my father the Steward instead, and was given little more than a gilded cage. My father saw the marriage as good for Gondor, and he filed my mother away with all of the other treaties he had accumulated, left to gather dust. She could not live like that, Éowyn, and it killed her. Too late, my father saw what he had done. He was consumed with guilt, and hardened his heart to me, though as a child I never understood, and always tried to please him, but failed. I think he always saw himself in me and simply could not forgive." Faramir intently ran his fingers along the edge of one of the stones as he spoke.
"My brother, Boromir, was not like either of us," he continued. "He was confident and sure. To my father he was hope for our people, for Boromir, it seemed, could never fail. To me my brother was a protector, shielding me from my father's wrath and giving me the love that I would never get from him. My father never realized that he loved me until he thought that I, like my mother, was lost to him. But why do I remain, Éowyn? I, who desired neither power nor status. I wished only to serve my people, to die for them if necessary. My father and brother wished to lead them, and died instead." Faramir closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
"Life is strange, is it not? Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and it seems that all around me is fire again and my father is the one pouring the oil upon me. I want to curse him, to curse his title, to curse the war and this whole world. I want to scream out in the dream for my father to light the fire, for I did not want to live. But, just as I start to curse fate for letting me live, I think of what a chance it was that you and I found each other. Perhaps it was not chance at all. We both despaired, thinking that all those we loved were lost, so we sought our own destruction on the battlefield. But in the end we found that we were not so alone after all, for friends enough remained to rescue us, though we had left ourselves for dead."
"Perhaps the same force that has taken so much away from us has also seen fit to give something back," Éowyn added.
"Now here we stand," Faramir said. He took a deep breath and placed an arm around Éowyn's shoulders. "And I feel as though my life has just begun. Long years of joy and peace lay before us."
"Do not be so certain of your success," Éowyn said, smiling, "you still do not have the permission of my brother. I do not know if he will approve of having a Gondorian as a brother-in-law." Faramir looked at her seriously, so she poked him in the side. Faramir groaned and doubled over. The smile fell from Éowyn's face as she realized that she had hit him near to where he had been wounded. She reached her hand over and placed it on the side of his face, but as she did he sprung up and lifted her from the ground, spinning her around and putting her back down again, but he did not release her from his embrace. They looked into each other's eyes, laughing, and Éowyn, placing both hands on the sides of his face, pulled Faramir closer and kissed him. The kiss deepened and the world around them seemed to fade. Time slowed to a stop, and though beyond the mountains the sun continued to rise, they took no notice of it until the bells of the city began to ring. A great cheer went up in the city as more bells chimed in. Faramir pulled back and kissed Éowyn on the forehead, and both turned to watch the fields below.
"All my life, and for generations before me, the banner of the Steward has flown above this city. I never imagined that it would be flown for me, nor that I would see it fly for the last time. But my heart is glad that the King has returned, for he will heal the wounds of my people and set all things to right. And now I will be free to return to Ithilien, which has been my home since I entered the army, only now we can live there in peace, and all things will grow again."
Éowyn looked up at him as he spoke, studied the features of his face and the depth of his gray eyes. She had often dreamt of love, of finding someone to fill the loneliness that ate at her heart and threatened to consume her during her time at Edoras, watching helplessly as shadow covered the land. In those days she had even tried to convince herself that she did not need love, that she could wind her way through life without it. Éowyn could persuade those around her that she was fine, but in the end she could no longer believe it to be true. Despite Éowyn's determination to accept the life given to her, loneliness had always found its way back to her heart.
She never thought that she would find love here, when the entire world seemed to be on the brink of destruction, or that such a man existed as Faramir. They found each other in a sea of fears, two lost souls clinging to each other in the storm. In the light of Faramir's love, Éowyn found peace for the first time since she was a child. Yet for all this newfound happiness, something inside her told her that her place was in Rohan, with her brother and her people, rather than chasing daydreams in Ithilien. She knew it to be true, and wished that Faramir were instead one of her own people, or that they had been born in less turbulent times. Her duty was to her people, though she could not resent them in their hour of need. The people of Rohan loved and trusted Éowyn, would follow her example, and yet she wanted to run away from their troubles, and find happiness while they struggled. It ate at her heart, but she could not bring herself to tell Faramir. She turned to look at the fields below, unable to put into words what she knew she had to do. Before Éowyn could build a new life for herself, she would first have to help her people to rebuild theirs.
Faramir noticed her sudden silence, but suddenly the people of the city began to shout, signaling the approach of the Lord Aragorn and his companions. Faramir let his concerns go unspoken and they walked down to the broken gate of the city to greet them.
*Update: I have changed the story slightly in chapters 1 and 3 so far (3 more than 1). I wanted to address the issue of Faramir asking Éomer's permission. Tell me what you think!
The coming dawn drew slowly upon Gondor. Neither light nor glow, but instead a dull outline, where before there had only been darkness. First the far mountains became visible, like shadows out of mist. Then the fields below came into view, colorless and mysterious, still hiding the scars of battle; scorched earth stretching away from the gates of Minas Tirith. Slowly the gray became purple and pink, and the Eastern sky was set on fire with the coming of the sun. This scene had been replayed every day for years without number, but on this morning all the people of Gondor arose to watch. For today their King would return, and the banner of the Stewards, protectors of the realm, would fly no more over Minas Tirith. The people stood on rooftops, in the streets and high on the walls surrounding the city, hoping to be the first to announce the King's approach. And though most stared out into the fading darkness, some turned their heads back to the walls above them, and strained their eyes through the mist to see two figures, Lord Faramir the Steward, and Lady Éowyn of Rohan, who stood high above them in the courtyard of the tower. They watched their ruler as one would watch a star at dawn, knowing that it would soon disappear with the coming of the sun.
Neither Éowyn nor Faramir had been able to sleep, and they had instead spent the night walking through the quiet streets and courtyards, sharing their dreams and fears and simply enjoying the nearness of the other. "It is strange," Faramir said quietly as they walked, hand in hand, and stopped in the courtyard overlooking the city below, "that the Stewardship has claimed the lives of all my family, and yet I remain only to hand over responsibility to another. My mother was born near the sea and grew up loving freedom and companionship. But she fell in love with my father the Steward instead, and was given little more than a gilded cage. My father saw the marriage as good for Gondor, and he filed my mother away with all of the other treaties he had accumulated, left to gather dust. She could not live like that, Éowyn, and it killed her. Too late, my father saw what he had done. He was consumed with guilt, and hardened his heart to me, though as a child I never understood, and always tried to please him, but failed. I think he always saw himself in me and simply could not forgive." Faramir intently ran his fingers along the edge of one of the stones as he spoke.
"My brother, Boromir, was not like either of us," he continued. "He was confident and sure. To my father he was hope for our people, for Boromir, it seemed, could never fail. To me my brother was a protector, shielding me from my father's wrath and giving me the love that I would never get from him. My father never realized that he loved me until he thought that I, like my mother, was lost to him. But why do I remain, Éowyn? I, who desired neither power nor status. I wished only to serve my people, to die for them if necessary. My father and brother wished to lead them, and died instead." Faramir closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
"Life is strange, is it not? Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and it seems that all around me is fire again and my father is the one pouring the oil upon me. I want to curse him, to curse his title, to curse the war and this whole world. I want to scream out in the dream for my father to light the fire, for I did not want to live. But, just as I start to curse fate for letting me live, I think of what a chance it was that you and I found each other. Perhaps it was not chance at all. We both despaired, thinking that all those we loved were lost, so we sought our own destruction on the battlefield. But in the end we found that we were not so alone after all, for friends enough remained to rescue us, though we had left ourselves for dead."
"Perhaps the same force that has taken so much away from us has also seen fit to give something back," Éowyn added.
"Now here we stand," Faramir said. He took a deep breath and placed an arm around Éowyn's shoulders. "And I feel as though my life has just begun. Long years of joy and peace lay before us."
"Do not be so certain of your success," Éowyn said, smiling, "you still do not have the permission of my brother. I do not know if he will approve of having a Gondorian as a brother-in-law." Faramir looked at her seriously, so she poked him in the side. Faramir groaned and doubled over. The smile fell from Éowyn's face as she realized that she had hit him near to where he had been wounded. She reached her hand over and placed it on the side of his face, but as she did he sprung up and lifted her from the ground, spinning her around and putting her back down again, but he did not release her from his embrace. They looked into each other's eyes, laughing, and Éowyn, placing both hands on the sides of his face, pulled Faramir closer and kissed him. The kiss deepened and the world around them seemed to fade. Time slowed to a stop, and though beyond the mountains the sun continued to rise, they took no notice of it until the bells of the city began to ring. A great cheer went up in the city as more bells chimed in. Faramir pulled back and kissed Éowyn on the forehead, and both turned to watch the fields below.
"All my life, and for generations before me, the banner of the Steward has flown above this city. I never imagined that it would be flown for me, nor that I would see it fly for the last time. But my heart is glad that the King has returned, for he will heal the wounds of my people and set all things to right. And now I will be free to return to Ithilien, which has been my home since I entered the army, only now we can live there in peace, and all things will grow again."
Éowyn looked up at him as he spoke, studied the features of his face and the depth of his gray eyes. She had often dreamt of love, of finding someone to fill the loneliness that ate at her heart and threatened to consume her during her time at Edoras, watching helplessly as shadow covered the land. In those days she had even tried to convince herself that she did not need love, that she could wind her way through life without it. Éowyn could persuade those around her that she was fine, but in the end she could no longer believe it to be true. Despite Éowyn's determination to accept the life given to her, loneliness had always found its way back to her heart.
She never thought that she would find love here, when the entire world seemed to be on the brink of destruction, or that such a man existed as Faramir. They found each other in a sea of fears, two lost souls clinging to each other in the storm. In the light of Faramir's love, Éowyn found peace for the first time since she was a child. Yet for all this newfound happiness, something inside her told her that her place was in Rohan, with her brother and her people, rather than chasing daydreams in Ithilien. She knew it to be true, and wished that Faramir were instead one of her own people, or that they had been born in less turbulent times. Her duty was to her people, though she could not resent them in their hour of need. The people of Rohan loved and trusted Éowyn, would follow her example, and yet she wanted to run away from their troubles, and find happiness while they struggled. It ate at her heart, but she could not bring herself to tell Faramir. She turned to look at the fields below, unable to put into words what she knew she had to do. Before Éowyn could build a new life for herself, she would first have to help her people to rebuild theirs.
Faramir noticed her sudden silence, but suddenly the people of the city began to shout, signaling the approach of the Lord Aragorn and his companions. Faramir let his concerns go unspoken and they walked down to the broken gate of the city to greet them.
