Sorry about the wait. Here's another chapter for you all. I hope you like
it. And if anyone can tell me how to italicize words so that they show up
on ff.net I would really, really appreciate it. And spacing without the
little marks in between sections. Thanks!
Thanks to Leah, scm0516, Faramir-phile (love the name =D ), Susan, Orangeblossom Took, and Iavala for reviewing! You guys are the greatest!
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Éowyn stood on the balcony, gazing out over Minas Tirith. It had been on that same balcony that Éowyn had first learned Faramir's father, Denethor, had verbally and physically abused him as a child. The wounds on his heart had never truly healed, even though he had finally forgiven his father. //And now I have hurt him with *my* words. I am as bad as Denethor! Why did I say that to him?//
"My lady, a messenger from the King has arrived and the Queen requests your presence." Éowyn nodded at the servant and turned back for one last look at the city. //When Faramir returns, the first thing I will do is apologize. Well, first I'll kiss him, *then* I'll apologize.// The White Lady of Rohan left for the audience chamber to see what the messenger had to say.
Queen Arwen was already there, but the messenger wasn't. The elf- queen looked almost agitated, which was unusual. "Arwen, are you alright?"
"I am fine, Éowyn. But I am wondering why Estel would send one of your brother's Rohirrim with his message."
That surprised Éowyn. "He sent a Rohirrim? Why didn't he send one of his own men?"
"There may be two reasons, neither one to my liking."
Éowyn sighed. "You are as bad as Faramir at not speaking plainly. What are the reasons?"
"Either all the Men of Gondor are dead, or something bad happened and Estel needed to send the fastest rider he had."
"I fear, My Lady, that it is the latter that is true." Arwen and Éowyn turned to face the newcomer who was staggering through the door. The messenger seemed exhausted; his clothes wrinkled and dirty from the ride to Minas Tirith.
"What do you mean? What has happened?" Arwen's worry could be heard in her voice.
"Two nights ago we reached the village of Tumbar which was being raided by a small group of orcs. King Aragorn ordered an attack, and we quickly killed the raiders. Unfortunately, it was a trap. Another, larger, group of orcs had been waiting on the outskirts of the village, waiting for us. In the ensuing battle, many were wounded or killed, soldiers and villagers alike. We finally won, but we found to our horror that the village's medical supplies had been destroyed and our few medicines and bandages would not be enough. The badly wounded were treated first, then anyone else we could help."
"Is that why Estel. . . King Elessar. . . sent you? To gather medical supplies?"
"Only partially. True, the supplies are needed, but most of the remaining injured can wait. No, my main mission is to escort the Lady Éowyn to Tumbar as quickly as possible."
Éowyn felt her stomach clench tightly and her face paled. "Why?"
"Soon after the medical supplies ran out, Prince Faramir was brought to the makeshift Healing Houses." Éowyn let out at strangled gasp. "He had been lost in the fighting and had not been seen since the battle. His wounds were severe and King Elessar did not know how long he had to live. He sent me to ride as fast as possible to bring you back before. . . " The messenger didn't continue, but his meaning was clear.
Éowyn's head spun and her legs could no longer hold her up. Arwen grabbed her arm and led her to a chair. Turning to the messenger, the Queen of Gondor took charge. "Thank you for informing us. Please, send a servant to have my and Lady Éowyn's horses saddled." The messenger left and Arwen knelt beside her friend. "Éowyn, we must go. If we hurry, perhaps there will be enough time to save him." Éowyn nodded and numbly followed the Queen to the stables. Along with an honor guard of the fastest riders, the two ladies quickly mounted their horses and sped out of Minas Tirith. They did not talk, for they rode too fast, but in Éowyn's mind her own voice spoke echoing her parting words to her beloved. //I don't care if you even come back. I don't care if you even come back.//
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Aragorn carefully wiped the sweat from Faramir's brow with a wet cloth. The Prince's fever had gone up and Aragorn was powerless to help his brother. As the sons of the same foster father, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, Aragorn and Faramir considered themselves brothers in all ways but by blood. Aragorn grimaced when he thought of how Elrond would react to hearing about Faramir. //How will I be able to face him?//
"How is he?"
The King of Gondor looked up as Éomer walked into the small tent. "Worse."
"The messenger will have reached Minas Tirith by now, if not sooner for he is my fastest rider. Éowyn will be here soon." When Aragorn didn't say anything, the King of Rohan continued. "How long do you think it will take the other messenger to reach the elves?"
"Too long. Lothlorien is over a week away and it would be two weeks before any help could arrive."
"He will not last two weeks?"
"Éomer, he may not last two *days*! That was why I sent the messenger to Minas Tirith, I want to at least give Éowyn the chance to say good-bye!"
"But if they bring medical supplies, won't that help? Can't you heal him?"
Aragorn angrily grabbed Éomer and pulled off Faramir's bandage. "Look at this. Do you see this wound?" Éomer winced at the deep gash in Faramir's side. Drops of blood oozed slowly out of the wound, which was tinged a sickly green. "*This* is what a poisoned wound looks like. Not only is it poisoned, but the poison is made from a mixture of orc blood and the blood from a Winged Beast of the Nazgul. It is a rare morgul poison contrived by Sauron himself that those orcs somehow got a hold of. Only the Bearers of the Three Elven Rings have the power to heal this."
"I thought the Elf Rings were lost."
"Not lost, hidden. I know of only two Bearers, Galadriel and Elrond, and it is to them that I sent the message. But even they cannot arrive in time."
"Is there no hope at all?" Éomer cried. Aragorn ached to tell his friend that there was hope, that there was always hope, yet he could not see any himself.
Soon the King of Rohan left, leaving Aragorn alone with Faramir. ^My brother, please come back to us! Fight this darkness, do not let it overcome you!^ The King lowered his head in despair, his hands clutching Faramir's limp one as if trying to anchor him to life. //Elbereth, please don't take him. Don't take my brother away!//
"E. . . Estel?" The hoarse whisper startled Aragorn. He glanced at his brother who was staring at him with fever-glazed eyes.
"Faramir!" Unlooked-for hope tantalized Aragorn. But his hope proved in vain as he watched Faramir struggle to stay conscious.
"Estel, please. . . " He halted as agony from his wound stopped his breath for a moment. "Estel, please, promise me something."
"Anything."
Faramir struggled to raise his head and look Aragorn in the eyes. "Take. . . take care of Éowyn. Promise me you will take care of her."
Aragorn's eyes stung from holding back tears. "You don't need me to take care of her, you will get better and do it yourself."
"Please, Estel. Please."
Faramir's grief-filled eyes tore at Aragorn's heart. "I will take care of her."
"Promise."
"I promise." Faramir sighed and rested his head back on the pillow. His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing and heartbeat slowed. Aragorn gripped his hand fearfully. "Faramir, don't go! Not yet, Éowyn is coming! She is coming, Tir!" In desperation the King called him by his elvish nickname. Aragorn breathed a small sigh of relief when Faramir's heart began beating steadily again. //Hurry Éowyn. There is not much time.//
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How Faramir was injured is in future chapters. Remember, if you review with any questions I'll answer them.
Next chapter: Struggle
Thanks to Leah, scm0516, Faramir-phile (love the name =D ), Susan, Orangeblossom Took, and Iavala for reviewing! You guys are the greatest!
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Éowyn stood on the balcony, gazing out over Minas Tirith. It had been on that same balcony that Éowyn had first learned Faramir's father, Denethor, had verbally and physically abused him as a child. The wounds on his heart had never truly healed, even though he had finally forgiven his father. //And now I have hurt him with *my* words. I am as bad as Denethor! Why did I say that to him?//
"My lady, a messenger from the King has arrived and the Queen requests your presence." Éowyn nodded at the servant and turned back for one last look at the city. //When Faramir returns, the first thing I will do is apologize. Well, first I'll kiss him, *then* I'll apologize.// The White Lady of Rohan left for the audience chamber to see what the messenger had to say.
Queen Arwen was already there, but the messenger wasn't. The elf- queen looked almost agitated, which was unusual. "Arwen, are you alright?"
"I am fine, Éowyn. But I am wondering why Estel would send one of your brother's Rohirrim with his message."
That surprised Éowyn. "He sent a Rohirrim? Why didn't he send one of his own men?"
"There may be two reasons, neither one to my liking."
Éowyn sighed. "You are as bad as Faramir at not speaking plainly. What are the reasons?"
"Either all the Men of Gondor are dead, or something bad happened and Estel needed to send the fastest rider he had."
"I fear, My Lady, that it is the latter that is true." Arwen and Éowyn turned to face the newcomer who was staggering through the door. The messenger seemed exhausted; his clothes wrinkled and dirty from the ride to Minas Tirith.
"What do you mean? What has happened?" Arwen's worry could be heard in her voice.
"Two nights ago we reached the village of Tumbar which was being raided by a small group of orcs. King Aragorn ordered an attack, and we quickly killed the raiders. Unfortunately, it was a trap. Another, larger, group of orcs had been waiting on the outskirts of the village, waiting for us. In the ensuing battle, many were wounded or killed, soldiers and villagers alike. We finally won, but we found to our horror that the village's medical supplies had been destroyed and our few medicines and bandages would not be enough. The badly wounded were treated first, then anyone else we could help."
"Is that why Estel. . . King Elessar. . . sent you? To gather medical supplies?"
"Only partially. True, the supplies are needed, but most of the remaining injured can wait. No, my main mission is to escort the Lady Éowyn to Tumbar as quickly as possible."
Éowyn felt her stomach clench tightly and her face paled. "Why?"
"Soon after the medical supplies ran out, Prince Faramir was brought to the makeshift Healing Houses." Éowyn let out at strangled gasp. "He had been lost in the fighting and had not been seen since the battle. His wounds were severe and King Elessar did not know how long he had to live. He sent me to ride as fast as possible to bring you back before. . . " The messenger didn't continue, but his meaning was clear.
Éowyn's head spun and her legs could no longer hold her up. Arwen grabbed her arm and led her to a chair. Turning to the messenger, the Queen of Gondor took charge. "Thank you for informing us. Please, send a servant to have my and Lady Éowyn's horses saddled." The messenger left and Arwen knelt beside her friend. "Éowyn, we must go. If we hurry, perhaps there will be enough time to save him." Éowyn nodded and numbly followed the Queen to the stables. Along with an honor guard of the fastest riders, the two ladies quickly mounted their horses and sped out of Minas Tirith. They did not talk, for they rode too fast, but in Éowyn's mind her own voice spoke echoing her parting words to her beloved. //I don't care if you even come back. I don't care if you even come back.//
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Aragorn carefully wiped the sweat from Faramir's brow with a wet cloth. The Prince's fever had gone up and Aragorn was powerless to help his brother. As the sons of the same foster father, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, Aragorn and Faramir considered themselves brothers in all ways but by blood. Aragorn grimaced when he thought of how Elrond would react to hearing about Faramir. //How will I be able to face him?//
"How is he?"
The King of Gondor looked up as Éomer walked into the small tent. "Worse."
"The messenger will have reached Minas Tirith by now, if not sooner for he is my fastest rider. Éowyn will be here soon." When Aragorn didn't say anything, the King of Rohan continued. "How long do you think it will take the other messenger to reach the elves?"
"Too long. Lothlorien is over a week away and it would be two weeks before any help could arrive."
"He will not last two weeks?"
"Éomer, he may not last two *days*! That was why I sent the messenger to Minas Tirith, I want to at least give Éowyn the chance to say good-bye!"
"But if they bring medical supplies, won't that help? Can't you heal him?"
Aragorn angrily grabbed Éomer and pulled off Faramir's bandage. "Look at this. Do you see this wound?" Éomer winced at the deep gash in Faramir's side. Drops of blood oozed slowly out of the wound, which was tinged a sickly green. "*This* is what a poisoned wound looks like. Not only is it poisoned, but the poison is made from a mixture of orc blood and the blood from a Winged Beast of the Nazgul. It is a rare morgul poison contrived by Sauron himself that those orcs somehow got a hold of. Only the Bearers of the Three Elven Rings have the power to heal this."
"I thought the Elf Rings were lost."
"Not lost, hidden. I know of only two Bearers, Galadriel and Elrond, and it is to them that I sent the message. But even they cannot arrive in time."
"Is there no hope at all?" Éomer cried. Aragorn ached to tell his friend that there was hope, that there was always hope, yet he could not see any himself.
Soon the King of Rohan left, leaving Aragorn alone with Faramir. ^My brother, please come back to us! Fight this darkness, do not let it overcome you!^ The King lowered his head in despair, his hands clutching Faramir's limp one as if trying to anchor him to life. //Elbereth, please don't take him. Don't take my brother away!//
"E. . . Estel?" The hoarse whisper startled Aragorn. He glanced at his brother who was staring at him with fever-glazed eyes.
"Faramir!" Unlooked-for hope tantalized Aragorn. But his hope proved in vain as he watched Faramir struggle to stay conscious.
"Estel, please. . . " He halted as agony from his wound stopped his breath for a moment. "Estel, please, promise me something."
"Anything."
Faramir struggled to raise his head and look Aragorn in the eyes. "Take. . . take care of Éowyn. Promise me you will take care of her."
Aragorn's eyes stung from holding back tears. "You don't need me to take care of her, you will get better and do it yourself."
"Please, Estel. Please."
Faramir's grief-filled eyes tore at Aragorn's heart. "I will take care of her."
"Promise."
"I promise." Faramir sighed and rested his head back on the pillow. His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing and heartbeat slowed. Aragorn gripped his hand fearfully. "Faramir, don't go! Not yet, Éowyn is coming! She is coming, Tir!" In desperation the King called him by his elvish nickname. Aragorn breathed a small sigh of relief when Faramir's heart began beating steadily again. //Hurry Éowyn. There is not much time.//
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How Faramir was injured is in future chapters. Remember, if you review with any questions I'll answer them.
Next chapter: Struggle