Hiya! I hope it hasn't been too long of a wait for you. Pretty much the excitement's over now, the last chapters are the denouement (that means the unraveling of the story from the climax to the end for all those people who doodled LOTR characters through English. *ignores the fact that she is guilty of said crime*)

Reviewer Responses

Queen of the Elven City= Only 11 more reviews and I'll have 100 *hint hint*

Carrie S= I'm not that nice. I killed Legolas once….then I brought him back because I just

couldn't keep him dead. Hmmm, I guess I am too nice.

Celenor= Thank you for reviewing, I am glad you liked it.

Arahiril= Well, this chapter and the next chapters do get a little sappy, but hey, after the excitement you need a little sap. =D  Don't worry about the Ice Incident, I need readers to keep me on my toes. Thanks.

arwens-light= Cheers! *holds up Mountain Dew* Glad you liked the chapter.

I LOVE LEGOLAS= I do not like Denethor either. Evil, pyromaniacal, jerk!

 the evil witch queen= Yup, Elrond should be very happy. But that is another chapter.

Alex92= The quote is perfect, thanks. *gives Alex92 a big smile* Hope you enjoy this chapter.

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Awakening

            The first thing Faramir realized when he woke up was that he was lying on a cot in a black tent, and that there was an annoying bird chirping outside. The second thing he realized was that his arm hadn't woken up with the rest of him. A head with a bundle of golden hair was laying on it. //Éowyn?// Faramir shifted slightly, trying to move his arm without disturbing her, but she seemed to have a death grip on his hand. "Éowyn," he whispered, startled when his lungs burned slightly from speaking. The Steward considered moving his other hand, but he was too tired to do more than think about it. Anyway, his side hurt and moving would only aggravate it.

            So Faramir contented himself with just watching Éowyn sleep. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair was tangled, yet Faramir still thought she was the most beautiful woman in Middle Earth. //But why is she here, I thought she stayed in Minas Tirith? How did *I* get here for that matter, the last thing I remember, we were ambushed and I was injured. That would be the pain in my side. There was something else, I think we won, but the memory seems so blurry. I will have to think about it later.//

            Faramir shifted his arm again and this time it woke Éowyn up. Blinking, Éowyn turned her head to face Faramir. To her delight, he smiled at her. "Good morning, love," he whispered. Faramir was not expecting his words to make Éowyn burst into tears. Somewhat confused, Faramir nonetheless gathered his strength and held out his arms to her. "Come here."

Éowyn needed no prompting as she hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder. "I am so sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean it, I am so sorry." Tears kept her from saying anything else.

Surprised, Faramir stroked her hair to comfort her. "Shhhh, love. Everything is alright."

Éowyn lifted her head to look him in the eyes. "No it is not alright! I yelled at you when all you did was think of me, I said things I didn't mean in anger. And then you were injured. . . " Her voice caught at the memory.

Still in the dark, Faramir just thought that she was worried about the apparent wound in his side. "I think it is just a scratch, not very deep. It is nothing to worry about," he whispered, his lungs still hurting. He did not anticipate Éowyn's reaction. //Why does everything I say make her cry? Éowyn rarely cries, unless you count King Theoden's funeral, she cried fountains there. But that is to be expected at a funeral of a loved one, not at just a small injury.// Deciding that keeping his mouth shut would be best, Faramir just continued to stroke her hair.

            Finally Éowyn's tears stopped. Realizing that holding Faramir so tightly would not be good for his healing body, she reluctantly let go, though still keeping a firm grip on his hand. "Faramir can. . . can you forgive me? Can you forgive me for the words I said to you before you left? I did not mean them, but I let my anger take a hold on me." She could not look at him, could not look into his piercing eyes. "It has torn my heart thinking of what I said. If those words had proved true, it would have destroyed me completely! Please, forgive me, my love!"

            Éowyn felt Faramir's hand lift her head, which forced her to look at him. Instead of anger in his eyes, she saw only love, compassion, though also a little hurt. "Éowyn, I have already forgiven you. Do you think so little of me that you would believe me to begrudge you your anger? I should have explained myself better, my reasons that I did not wish you to come. . . "

            He was blaming himself for her actions! Éowyn could not bear it. "Stop, please! You were not the cause of my anger. No matter what you did, had you given me a nicely written list of reasons why I should not go, I would have been just as irrational! I felt that you thought I could not handle myself in the fight and I did not see that you were just worried for my safety. Then you left and I had not told you how much. . . how much I love you."

            Hearing those last three words warmed Faramir's heart and he smiled. "I love you too, Éowyn." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Neither said anything for a few minutes before Faramir whispered again. "As much as I would love to just lay here looking at you, I am a bit confused at why you are here."

            "King Elessar sent for me when you were injured. I arrived yesterday."

            Faramir frowned. It would have taken awhile for the messenger to get to Minas Tirith and for Éowyn to arrive. "How long have I been asleep?"

            "You have been unconscious for at least three days."

            "Three days!" Faramir raised his voice above a whisper and gasped when his lungs began burning more painfully. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced himself to breathe slowly until the pain faded. Faramir opened his eyes to find Éowyn looking at him worriedly. "I am alright," he whispered. "It seems that speaking loudly is not an option right now."

            "Good, you are awake." The new voice startled the couple. Faramir was even more startled when he saw Gandalf the White walk into the tent.

            "Mithrandir? Why are you here?"

            Gandalf walked over to Faramir's side. "To take care of you. How do you feel?"

            "My side hurts and for some reason my lungs feel like I have breathed fire."

            The wizard nodded. "That is to be expected. Now I need to ask you a few questions." Though still confused, Faramir agreed. "What is your name?"

            "What?" Faramir asked incredulously.

            "Please just answer the question. What is your name?"

            "Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien."

            "How old are you?"

            "36."

            "What month and year is it?"

            "October of the year 3019 of the Third Age."

            "What is your father's name?" This was getting ridiculous.

            "Real or blood-father?"

            "Both please."

            "Elrond Peredhel and Denethor son of Ecthelion."

            "Brothers?"

            "Boromir son of Denethor and Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond."

            "What is 3 added to 6?"

            "9, Mithrandir is this necessary?"

            "Yes. Who was the first King of Numenor?"

            "Elros Tar-Minyatur"

            "Please recite the line of the Stewards beginning with Hurin."

            Luckily Éowyn interrupted. "Gandalf, I do not think he needs to do that. We will be here all day!" Still, she was relieved. //At least now it is obvious that the fever did not harm his mind.//

            "Very well. Everything seems fine anyway. You seem to be in good health young one, considering."

            "Considering *what*?"

            "Your wound."

            Faramir's nerves were being tested considerably. "The last time I checked, a side wound did not effect one's memory."

            Gandalf looked pointedly at him. "Surely Lord Elrond taught you something about sword-wounds, especially those caused by orc swords."

            A moment's thought and Faramir finally understood. "You mean poison."

            "Indeed, young one."

            "What kind of poison was it?"

            The wizard hesitated. Perhaps it wasn't wise. . . no, Faramir's scholar mind would give him no rest if he didn't know. "Perhaps Lord Elrond has told you about ringna*."

            Faramir's eyes widened. "Ringnar!" He winced again. //Ok, definitely no more raising my voice.// When the pain settled down, Faramir continued. "He told me that it was always fatal for there is no known cure." Which raised the question of why he was still alive.

            "There has always been a cure, though it has been unknown for many years and is now known." Before Faramir could say anything about wizards who speak in riddles, Gandalf walked out of the tent. "I shall inform King Elessar that you have woken."

            Faramir looked at Éowyn. "I still do not understand why he was asking those questions." Before Éowyn could speak, though, he shook his head. "On the second thought, I do not wish to know." Faramir smiled at his fiancée who squeezed his hand and smiled back.

            It did not take long for Aragorn to stride into the tent. Seeing Faramir awake, the King of Gondor grinned. "Thank the Valar!" Aragorn grabbed his brother's arm in a warrior's grip. "Don't ever do that to me again, Tir!"

            "Do what?"

            Aragorn softly punched Faramir's shoulder. "Almost get yourself killed, that is what!"

            Faramir grinned. "I cannot help that I seem to attract trouble wherever I go."

            The King rolled his eyes, looking very unkingly. "Faramir, I may just have to lock you in the Tower of Ecthelion and feed you through a hole in the wall to keep you safe."

            "The Tower would probably catch on fire, or collapse, or someone would poison the food."

            "You are probably right." The three laughed, but then Aragorn's face grew solemn. "We thought we had lost you, Faramir. If Gandalf hadn't arrived . . ."

            Faramir saw something else in Aragorn's eyes. Turning to his betrothed, Faramir squeezed her hand. "Éowyn," He didn't even have to finish his request. Éowyn nodded and kissed his forehead before exiting the tent to find Éomer. Faramir looked at his brother. "What is it?"

            Aragorn looked down. "It is my fault you were hurt."

            The Steward bit his tongue to keep from groaning. "Why are you blaming yourself for my actions? You did the same thing after the incident with the river. It was not your fault that I could not block the orc."

            The King frowned, still wallowing in guilt. "Do you even remember how you were injured."

            Faramir winced at the memory. "Yes, I remember. I doubt I will ever forget."

*^*flashback*^*

            Faramir gritted his teeth as he slashed through another orc. //I should have been prepared for this, I *knew* something was wrong!// The building next to him burst into flames and he had to twist away to avoid a falling beam. //They are trying to burn down the town!// Faramir thought about the innocent villagers. They were losing their homes and their lives, more each moment the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan did not finish the orcs off.

            With grim determination, Faramir fought orc after orc. Somehow he made his way to his King's side. Aragorn was cutting down orcs with a fury and did not even notice the Steward. Or the orc coming up behind him ready to end the King's life. //No!// Forgetting the rest of the battle, forgetting the other orcs, Faramir angrily beheaded the orc that dared try to take the life of his brother. //I am not losing Estel as I did Boromir!// Faramir was strangely satisfied to hear the shrill dying scream of the orc, but then realized that another was coming after him. Having been too preoccupied with saving Aragorn, Faramir turned to face the new threat too late. A burning pain in his side left Faramir disoriented, but enough in his wits to kill the orc. Bending over from the pain, Faramir had only a moment before he forced himself to continue fighting.

            The rest of the battle was a blur. Faramir's side screamed in agony and the world seemed to rock like a storm-tossed ship. But soon the fighting stopped, the orcs either killed or scattered. The Steward walked unsteadily on his feet. //Why is the ground moving? Why can't I see straight?// He heard a sniffle nearby and looked down (or what he thought was down), startled to see a little girl who looked to be ten-years-old. //What's she doing here? Too dangerous for her.// "Are you all right, little one?" he asked, surprised when he felt out-of-breath from that one sentence.

            The little girl looked tearfully up at him. "I'm scared. I lost Gramma and I was so afraid of the monsters." She began crying again.

            Faramir kneeled, nearly falling over as the ground seemed to move again. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he gave the girl what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "The monsters are gone. You do not need to worry."

            "Gramma was hurt. They took her away to be healed but it was really bad."

            Why was the world spinning so much? "I am sure she will be fine. The King is here, he will heal her."

            The girl looked at him hopefully. "Really?"

            //I certainly hope so.// "Really."

            She smiled at him and got to her feet. "Let's go now!"

            At the moment, Faramir did not think he could stand, let alone walk. "You go ahead, I will try and catch up." //Healer would probably be a good idea.//

            The girl nodded. "Ok then." She started to walk away, but turned back as if forgetting something. "Oh, I'm sorry. Gramma says it's impolite to not 'introduce' myself. My name's Silhin. What's yours?"

            //Name? What's my name?// His head hurt, he couldn't think. //-ir. Something -ir. Kir? Wir? Wait, Tir! Tirpala-something. Oh that's it!// "My name's Tirpalandil."

            Silhin frowned at the long name. "'Kay. See ya 'Palan!" Waving at the Steward, Silhin walked off, searching for the King who could save her Gramma.

            Faramir barely noticed her departure. //Head hurts. Side hurts. Hard to breathe.// His mind muddled, Faramir struggled to his feet. //Need a healer.// He tried to walk, making a few unsteady steps before collapsing, not even noticing that he was in a dark alleyway.

            The pain was nearly unbearable as Faramir struggled to stay awake. In the back of his confused mind, he knew that he should not fall asleep. He tried to call out, but his lungs ached and he couldn't manage more than a whisper. "Estel."

            It seemed like he struggled for days, though it was only a few hours. Memories flashed in his mind, but Faramir could not focus on them, could not even think of the names of the people he saw, people he knew were important. //Help. Someone.// He heard a loud scream, but it seemed like it came from another world. There were voices, familiar voices, but the darkness of unconsciousness claimed Faramir and he knew no more.

*^*end flashback*^*  

"Tir?"

Aragorn's voice brought Faramir back to the present. "Forgive me, my mind wandered. Seriously, though, you were not the cause of my injury. Soldiers are wounded, that is a proven fact I believe. I just happened to be the lucky one to be injured with the one sword coated in ringnar."

Relieved at least that Faramir did not blame him, Aragorn pushed back the strange feeling in his heart from his brother's words and smiled. "Very well, we will speak no more of it."

"Good, now when can we go home?"

Faramir looked as if he were ready to get up then and there to ride back to Minas Tirith. Aragorn had forgotten how his brother did not like being stuck in bed. "Éomer and his men will be setting off early tomorrow since they have the farthest to go. Arwen will return to the city as well with all but the White Guard at the same time. The rest of us will stay here until you are fully healed. The woman who found you and her husband have offered to share their home with us until then."

"I feel fine now, just a little tired."

The King of Gondor frowned. "First of all, you can barely move from the exhaustion of fighting the poison. Second, you are still talking in a whisper because your lungs were slightly injured both from the ringnar and the healing. And finally, I just am not going to take a chance with your health since you are apparently the first Man to have lived through this poison." Aragorn folded his arms across his chest and gave a very good impression of Lord Elrond's 'you dare question me?' face. 

Faramir laughed. "Your point is well made, brother. Just please try not to treat me like I cannot do anything for myself, that has always been very frustrating for me."

Aragorn nodded but then a thought struck him and he grinned mischievously. "I promise, but I do not believe Éowyn will."

Faramir could only groan.

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Wohoo, he's awake! You know, I might put up another chapter tonight, I'm in a good mood.