A/N: Your lovely reviews are keeping me going!! Thank you all!!
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Out of anger, I packed up my pavilion and took nearly three-quarters of the force that was camping at the River Poros and crossed into South Gondor, fully intending to obliterate any Southrons who were unlucky enough to cross our path. No longer could I sit and watch my steward deteriorate unto death. I needed action, something that made me feel useful, since it seemed that I had proven worthless in one of the most important occurrences since the end of the War. I was certain that when I returned to the main camp, Faramir would be dead. I had admitted it to myself, though it was difficult, because his death was wholly wasted. Gondor had not been at war, and Faramir's journey was nonessential, only meant to last a week or two. He simply had wanted to prove to himself that he was yet a useful Ranger of Ithilien, who could draw a bow if necessary, and I believe that he had felt a keen sense of loss of comradeship with the rest of the rangers since he had taken up his duties as the Steward of Gondor and the Prince of Ithilien.
To my chagrin, at first I blamed Faramir for his own quandary, and this made me wroth above all else. For I greatly doubt that he would have visited the outpost if he had known that there had been a great threat of danger there. Eventually I cursed the Steward of Pelargir under my breath. If only he had seen fit to send reports of the Haradrim's movements during the past few months! Though it was a selfish thought, I knew not how to face ruling Gondor without her greatest asset, Faramir.
And Lady Éowyn should not have to face a future without the man who had pulled her from the brink of despair and set her heart aflame. I had no doubt that without Faramir, Éowyn would wither and die like a lily whose roots had been ripped from the soil. I knew not how I should ever be able to face her again. And when Éomer King received word of this, he would be furious, though I knew not at whom.
After I had given Anborn the steward's rings for safekeeping, I left him in charge of Faramir, a heavy responsibility to be sure, but I knew that the ranger was more than capable of handling it, for he knew his captain better than I. It only seemed right to me that he should be there at the end. And Madach remained in the service of the rangers, cleaning and mending clothing and making himself generally useful amongst their ranks. He seemed delighted at the opportunity to be of some help.
Colonel Vëantor had been put in charge of the camp, and I rode forth with around eight hundred men, seeking blood and revenge. General Solasgil accompanied me, trying to convince me of the folly of attempting to rid the whole of South Gondor of the Haradrim. He urged me not to seek blood but to let the battle come to us. The noble, intelligent part of my mind knew the value of his words, but the vicious, impetuous side of me was at the fore, and I did not listen to him.
When we encountered the first Haradrim patrol within a league of our camp, I personally rode the three of them down and killed them all myself, hacking them to bits, and then wiping Andúril clean upon their clothing before I returned to the main army. Solasgil looked pained by my actions but wisely said naught in front of the troops.
But later that night, when we were alone at the fire, he asked for permission to speak freely, which I granted, and then he scolded me as Ada would have, accusing me of putting my vengeance ahead of the good of Gondor. I nodded, not disagreeing with him, for I knew that I had allowed bloodlust to overtake me, and I also knew that I deserved every word that he gave to me.
"What will you do when the steward dies, if you have already reached this state while he yet lives?" he asked me when he had calmed down a bit.
"I shall leave a much larger force here to protect Ithilien. None shall cross the River Poros until issues are resolved with the Haradrim. Perhaps we shall have to work out some sort of treaty, for I would not have what happened to the rangers' outpost happen again."
The general nodded in agreement. "King Elessar, this is not your fault, this terrible thing that has befallen the steward. It is not the fault of any but the Haradrim. Do not forget that."
I smiled softly. "You sound like my lady wife just now, with the kind of advice that I need. Thank you, General."
He nodded and rose. "I am going to sleep now, my lord king. I would suggest that you try to do the same."
I nodded but sat for awhile after he departed to smoke and think about the future of Gondor and how I would deal with the Haradrim without Faramir's steady, wise presence.
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We had ridden very hard for three days, barely taking time to rest our horses along the way. When I had first been told of the messenger at my doorstep, I knew that Faramir had been located at last, but it worried me that the king had called for my immediate presence at my husband's side. Imrahil patted my shoulder in sympathy but said only that he and his daughter would journey with me.
I called Beregond to my side immediately, and he saw that all of our horses were readied as I rapidly packed a few things. Word reached the queen quickly, and she was carrying a goodly-sized bag of various herbs and medicines for us to carry to Aragorn for her when she found us in the stables.
"Within you shall also find some food for your journey. Please, do not neglect yourself for Faramir's sake, understand?"
"I shall see to it that she takes care of herself," said Lothíriel, taking charge of the satchel for me.
I nodded gravely at Lothíriel and assured Arwen that I would heed her words. And then the queen drew Beregond aside and spoke with him privately for a moment. He bowed solemnly before her and then mounted his horse, and we four departed with all haste.
The long, grueling ride was more tiring for me than I would have liked, but I tried not to let it show, and I obeyed Arwen and ate at suitable intervals, though to me, even the honey cakes tasted like wood. We would ride until long after dark and resume before dawn at my behest. At night Lothíriel and I shared blankets, while the prince and Beregond took turns on watch. And on the third day we skirted the City of Pelargir altogether, as I was unwilling to allow the throngs of the city slow us, and Imrahil had said that the Steward of Pelargir would be offended if the Prince of Dol Amroth did not at least pause to chat once inside the city walls.
It was quite late when we finally arrived at the camp, though a waning moon helped to light the way. Beregond went first and made our presence known. Almost immediately, Lieutenant Odrastor appeared, and without formality, he explained what had befallen my husband as we moved quickly through the camp to the tent where my husband lay injured.
As we reached it, the lieutenant laid his hand upon my arm and pulled me aside. "My princess, prepare yourself for the worst. He is failing."
Fear penetrated my mind. Soberly, I nodded and entered the dimly lit tent, followed by my companions.
Anborn was there, looking extremely tired, as he glanced up from my husband's side. He nodded when he saw me, and then he stood slowly and drew himself aside to provide me access to the bedside. I stopped in my tracks when first I saw my husband. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted my weary eyes. Faramir lay amongst a pile of furs, only his face visible. And he looked so pale and haggard, his cheekbones protruding, dark circles beneath his sunken eyes, that I knew that I might yet weep in front of these men.
I approached him quickly and sank down next to him, murmuring his name and praying that he might open his eyes for me, but he remained still, even after I stroked his beard-stubbled face gently with the backs of my fingers. His skin was cold, and I panicked a little until Anborn assured me that Faramir yet lived.
Odrastor had informed me of my husband's injuries, but I had to uncover him and look upon them myself. His body was very thin as well, his ribs plainly visible along his side, and I found his left arm bound in a sling across his body, and beneath that the arrow wound, which when I removed the bandages, I saw was oozing a disgusting, greenish fluid. It had obviously turned foul since I had last tended the wound.
"Anborn, why did you not drain this wound and wash out the infection?" I asked, dabbing at the injury with a clean cloth.
"It has been done twice every day since he was found, but it refuses to heal, Lady Éowyn." I lowered my head toward Faramir and whispered his name into his ear, but he remained insensible.
"We can find no reason for him to remain thus, my lady."
"When last did he wake?"
"Two nights past." He anticipated my next question. "He cannot keep any broth down either. We have tried all that we know to do, Lady Éowyn." His voice nearly broke with the last word, and I felt my composure slipping as well.
"Where is King Elessar? I expected that the king would tend Faramir himself," said Imrahil, the tone of his voice conveying his deep concern over his nephew. The ranger explained to him that the king had led some men out to face any Southrons who dared to come too close to the camp. But I cared not about the king, nor the Prince of Dol Amroth, nor even myself then. I grasped Faramir's right hand in both of mine and brought his cold fingers to my lips, tears dripping onto his hand.
"How did this happen, love?" I moaned quietly to him, not expecting an answer. I remembered the morning not so very long ago, when Faramir had departed from Emyn Arnen, the mischievous gleam in his grey eyes, Simbelmynë dancing so prettily beneath him as my heart had thundered in my chest just from gazing upon his handsome face. He had been so full of life despite his exhaustion from lack of sleep. My heart was now thundering again, but a different reason. Never could I have dreamed that Faramir might come to this humble state in such a short amount of time.
Unexpectedly, Lothíriel, with a steady voice, took command, saying, "Fara certainly cannot get any better if we simply surrender him to death. Lieutenant," I heard her say, "I need some extra furs or coverlets for Éowyn to bed upon, for she has just endured a grueling journey, and she requires rest and quiet just as her lord husband does." Lieutenant Odrastor left quickly without comment.
Then she said, obviously speaking to Anborn, "Sir Ranger, please go, and take some rest. I know you worry for your lord, but there is naught you can do for him if you are ill from exhaustion. Please." Anborn nodded and bowed before us all, before he departed the tent.
Imrahil spoke quietly to his daughter, explaining that he would find King Elessar and speak to him about the circumstances surrounding Faramir's condition, and I heard Lothíriel ask him to be careful before she turned her attention to me.
She knelt next to me and looked briefly upon Faramir's face as if he were simply sleeping. "Éowyn, we shall find a way to get him to drink something. He shall listen to you, and you might even convince him that it is good for him, as he always weighs your advice quite heavily."
Though what she spoke seemed nonsense to me, Lothíriel's voice calmed me and allowed me to think beyond this moment. With a last kiss of his knuckles, I gently laid his hand upon the furs next to him, and cleansed his wound thoroughly, bandaging it. Then his cousin and I lifted Faramir so that I could slide behind him, resting his head upon my chest. Odrastor returned with a few extra furs, laying them nearby, before he bowed and departed the tent.
"Never has Fara been able to resist honey," she continued in a conversational tone, "for it is his favorite flavoring for everything. You know this, Éowyn." Lothíriel found a clean spoon and a bowl upon a chest near the brazier, and then poured some hot water from the kettle into it. Then she took a jar of honey amongst her things and poured a small amount of the thick, amber-colored liquid into the water, stirring it until it was mixed to her satisfaction. Carefully, she spooned a tiny bit of the mixture into his mouth, and I gently stroked his throat until he had swallowed it. And then we waited, thinking that perhaps if he did not take too much at once, he might keep it down long enough for it to do him some good. Gently I stroked his hair while we waited, speaking softly in his ear, telling him all manner of things, wishing that he might hear me and awaken, ending this horrible nightmare for all of us.
We waited for perhaps a quarter of an hour before we dared to feed him more. We repeated the process and waited again. Altogether, he took six spoons of honeyed water, and we looked upon it as a small victory. But I knew that it was likely too little. And, though I wanted to continue, to my shame, I found myself dozing against him, all of the exertion and worry of this day finally taking its toll.
Lothíriel bowed her head, setting the remaining liquid aside for the moment. "Éowyn, you should sleep now. It is very late," she said, her voice quiet. "I will watch over him while you sleep. Shall I lay these extra furs for you?"
"Nay, Lothíriel, I wish to stay close to him." She nodded and together we raised his body enough for me to move from behind him, returning his back to the furs. I stroked Faramir's brow as I laid next to him, hugging his right arm against my chest. I wondered briefly if my husband might die in my arms that night.
"I am nearby if you require something," she said, covering me with a large fur. "Sleep well, Éowyn." I thought that I could not sleep, but my body betrayed me, and I quickly sank into slumber.
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I was awakened by a guard who quietly explained that though it was quite early, I had a visitor.
"For Varda's sake, who is it?" I asked irritably, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"My king," said a different voice, and I glanced up, seeing Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth bowing before me. The guard departed without further words. And I sat, looking speechlessly at Faramir's uncle. It was eerie, the resemblance between them. "Forgive me for disturbing your slumber."
"How is Faramir?" I asked, expecting the worst as I swung my legs over the edge of the cot.
"He lives yet, though the situation is grave. But his lady wife has found him at last, and perhaps she might be able to see him through this."
I nodded, thinking it unlikely.
"My king, I came to see if I might offer my assistance to your cause here in South Gondor and also to discover the circumstances surrounding my nephew's injuries." He raised a bag, placing it on the nearby table. "And the queen sends you some supplies."
"Thank you, Imrahil." I rose and dragged on my shirt, before I called a guard and had him go to bring us some food to break fast in my pavilion. I bade the prince to sit in one of my camp chairs as I dragged a wooden comb through my hair and tried my best to look presentable before the sun had even risen. I suspected that Imrahil had slept little in the past few nights and probably none at all this night, and I said as much to him.
He nodded wearily. "Éowyn was doing everything within her power to reach Faramir's side in the least amount of time, and riding at that speed makes it rather difficult to sleep within the saddle," he smiled wryly.
I nodded. "Feel free to use my pavilion for your needs, Lord Imrahil. One cannot properly function for long without proper rest."
He murmured his thanks as I sat across the small table from him and awaited some food, as I rifled through the bag, finding a note written in Sindarin from Arwen.
Estel, my love,
Within this bag I have provided you with any and all healing
herbs that I could conceive that you might need on Faramir's behalf
including the last of the athelas we had found on our past foraging
excursion.
I realize that if you have called Éowyn back to Faramir's side
that his condition must be very serious. I pray to the Valar that he
might be made well again as soon as possible, and I feel confident
that you, my husband, shall be the one to heal him yet again.
Forgive me, but I neglected to tell you some happy news that I
thought Éowyn and Faramir might want to tell you themselves, but I
feel it is important for you to know now that Éowyn is carrying
Faramir's son. I explained to her guard, Beregond, the situation, but
please, in this difficult time, make certain that she is taking care
of herself and the future Steward of Gondor as best as you can.
And above all, take care of yourself. I could not bear it were
I put in Éowyn's position. I feel for all my centuries of living that
I am but a weak creature next to that woman!
I love you!
Arwen
The prince had waited patiently while I read, and I folded the letter, setting it aside to read again later. The food arrived, duck eggs poached in wine, oatcakes with honey and some bacon, along with some strong- flavored tea that I like to drink in the mornings. Imrahil accepted the tea with a murmur of thanks but refused the food.
"Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Imrahil." Without further preamble, I launched into a full account of what I knew for certain had happened to the man's nephew, omitting nothing. The prince nodded occasionally, sipping his tea, but said naught until I had reached the end of the tale. "I fear that we were too late in finding him to save his life."
Imrahil raised his eyebrow. "And yet, you are here in South Gondor while Faramir remains alive in Ithilien, albeit by a thread. I never expected you to abandon him in his greatest hour of need, Aragorn." The words were harsh, but the tone was not. And yet I cringed.
"I have already been reminded of the many bad choices that I have made in the past few days. And I feel that I have failed your nephew on many counts as well."
"He is a man grown, Aragorn, and well able to fend for himself under normal circumstances."
I shoved my breakfast aside, no longer hungry. "I have already tried to blame him for these events, but I failed to look upon him as a soldier, which is in effect what he yet is, despite his titles. I allowed him to enter an area where I had no idea of the civil turmoil. And as king, it is my duty to know all that occurs in my kingdom. I should have made him wait until I had a full report of the conditions down here. But I was too involved with the White City. If I had but known, I could have issued him a full company of rangers to accompany him, instead of the three that he requested for himself."
Imrahil took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "There is naught that can be done about it now, my king, with the exception of your watching over Faramir in his last hours, and easing his passing if needs be." His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I looked away to give him a moment's privacy.
"I will not take his life from him, Lord Prince."
"Perhaps not, but I think he deserves your presence at the very least." I looked back at Imrahil's face, noting the undercurrent of anger running through his words, and I nodded slowly, knowing that he was right.
"Then I shall depart here at dawn and return to his side. General Solasgil is more than capable of handling this operation."
The prince nodded, murmuring his thanks. "I know this is not easy for you, Aragorn. But it is not easy for any of us, most especially dear Éowyn."
I agreed with him, now understanding why Faramir was unhappy that his wife would be returning to the River Poros. "I will help where the Valar allow me to. Thank you for helping me see the foolishness of my actions, Imrahil."
"A king can never have too many advisors, Aragorn," he smiled faintly.
"With any luck, I shall not lose any of you."
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When I awakened, I was curled against Faramir's still form, my arm draped across his bare chest. He had not moved, and he looked no better in the morning light than he had yestereve, but he was yet alive. I sat up with a moan.
Lothíriel dozed upon a pile of furs nearby. I spoke quietly to my husband as I checked his side wound again. It looked no different from the night before, but I left it uncovered for a while, hoping that it might help somehow to have the air against it.
With a soft caress of my husband's face, I rose and found Beregond, who had stationed himself outside of his lord's tent, and I asked him to fetch some items for me. He nodded as I named what I required before he departed, glad of something else to do.
Returning to the tent, I sat, stroking Faramir's rough cheeks until the guard returned with a bucket of heated water, various clean cloths, and his own razor and soap. I thanked him, and dismissed him, and then I began to wash my husband's wasted body. I drained the foulness from the injury on his side, and then I redressed the wound.
After I had finished bathing him thoroughly, I lathered his face and neck and began to carefully draw the sharp razor over the stubble upon his emaciated face. It suddenly occurred to me that I might simply slit his throat and spare him the further indignity of lying abed and wasting away. I fingered the razor, morbidly considering this option for more than a little time, trying to imagine what Faramir would wish for himself.
"Éowyn?"
Lothíriel's frightened voice interrupted my musing, and I looked up at her, as I yet held the edge of the razor close to Faramir's exposed throat.
"What do you think you are doing?" she asked, rising to her feet.
I looked back at Faramir. "I am shaving my husband," I murmured. But she is not a stupid woman, and she knew my thoughts.
"Please, Éowyn, there is always hope." Her thoughts echoed those of Arwen, and I knew then for a certainty that Faramir would only want only what was best for me. If there was any chance that I might have my husband back, then it was not my place to steal his remaining life from him. I shuddered in horror at the thing that I had been contemplating, and Lothíriel visibly relaxed as she turned her back to me and gathered her composure once again.
After I stilled my shaking hands, I resumed shaving him, carefully pulling the razor's edge along the length of his jaw and neck before wiping the remaining lather from his sallow skin. I cursed aloud, seeing that somehow I had accidentally cut him anyway. Lothíriel whirled to face us, her face pale and concerned as she approached and knelt next to me. I dabbed at the wound with a cloth, but when I drew it away, instead of red blood, I noticed that there was a strange black liquid draining from the tiny gash.
"Beregond!" I exclaimed, bringing the guard running from outside. "Fetch the king at once!"
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Out of anger, I packed up my pavilion and took nearly three-quarters of the force that was camping at the River Poros and crossed into South Gondor, fully intending to obliterate any Southrons who were unlucky enough to cross our path. No longer could I sit and watch my steward deteriorate unto death. I needed action, something that made me feel useful, since it seemed that I had proven worthless in one of the most important occurrences since the end of the War. I was certain that when I returned to the main camp, Faramir would be dead. I had admitted it to myself, though it was difficult, because his death was wholly wasted. Gondor had not been at war, and Faramir's journey was nonessential, only meant to last a week or two. He simply had wanted to prove to himself that he was yet a useful Ranger of Ithilien, who could draw a bow if necessary, and I believe that he had felt a keen sense of loss of comradeship with the rest of the rangers since he had taken up his duties as the Steward of Gondor and the Prince of Ithilien.
To my chagrin, at first I blamed Faramir for his own quandary, and this made me wroth above all else. For I greatly doubt that he would have visited the outpost if he had known that there had been a great threat of danger there. Eventually I cursed the Steward of Pelargir under my breath. If only he had seen fit to send reports of the Haradrim's movements during the past few months! Though it was a selfish thought, I knew not how to face ruling Gondor without her greatest asset, Faramir.
And Lady Éowyn should not have to face a future without the man who had pulled her from the brink of despair and set her heart aflame. I had no doubt that without Faramir, Éowyn would wither and die like a lily whose roots had been ripped from the soil. I knew not how I should ever be able to face her again. And when Éomer King received word of this, he would be furious, though I knew not at whom.
After I had given Anborn the steward's rings for safekeeping, I left him in charge of Faramir, a heavy responsibility to be sure, but I knew that the ranger was more than capable of handling it, for he knew his captain better than I. It only seemed right to me that he should be there at the end. And Madach remained in the service of the rangers, cleaning and mending clothing and making himself generally useful amongst their ranks. He seemed delighted at the opportunity to be of some help.
Colonel Vëantor had been put in charge of the camp, and I rode forth with around eight hundred men, seeking blood and revenge. General Solasgil accompanied me, trying to convince me of the folly of attempting to rid the whole of South Gondor of the Haradrim. He urged me not to seek blood but to let the battle come to us. The noble, intelligent part of my mind knew the value of his words, but the vicious, impetuous side of me was at the fore, and I did not listen to him.
When we encountered the first Haradrim patrol within a league of our camp, I personally rode the three of them down and killed them all myself, hacking them to bits, and then wiping Andúril clean upon their clothing before I returned to the main army. Solasgil looked pained by my actions but wisely said naught in front of the troops.
But later that night, when we were alone at the fire, he asked for permission to speak freely, which I granted, and then he scolded me as Ada would have, accusing me of putting my vengeance ahead of the good of Gondor. I nodded, not disagreeing with him, for I knew that I had allowed bloodlust to overtake me, and I also knew that I deserved every word that he gave to me.
"What will you do when the steward dies, if you have already reached this state while he yet lives?" he asked me when he had calmed down a bit.
"I shall leave a much larger force here to protect Ithilien. None shall cross the River Poros until issues are resolved with the Haradrim. Perhaps we shall have to work out some sort of treaty, for I would not have what happened to the rangers' outpost happen again."
The general nodded in agreement. "King Elessar, this is not your fault, this terrible thing that has befallen the steward. It is not the fault of any but the Haradrim. Do not forget that."
I smiled softly. "You sound like my lady wife just now, with the kind of advice that I need. Thank you, General."
He nodded and rose. "I am going to sleep now, my lord king. I would suggest that you try to do the same."
I nodded but sat for awhile after he departed to smoke and think about the future of Gondor and how I would deal with the Haradrim without Faramir's steady, wise presence.
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We had ridden very hard for three days, barely taking time to rest our horses along the way. When I had first been told of the messenger at my doorstep, I knew that Faramir had been located at last, but it worried me that the king had called for my immediate presence at my husband's side. Imrahil patted my shoulder in sympathy but said only that he and his daughter would journey with me.
I called Beregond to my side immediately, and he saw that all of our horses were readied as I rapidly packed a few things. Word reached the queen quickly, and she was carrying a goodly-sized bag of various herbs and medicines for us to carry to Aragorn for her when she found us in the stables.
"Within you shall also find some food for your journey. Please, do not neglect yourself for Faramir's sake, understand?"
"I shall see to it that she takes care of herself," said Lothíriel, taking charge of the satchel for me.
I nodded gravely at Lothíriel and assured Arwen that I would heed her words. And then the queen drew Beregond aside and spoke with him privately for a moment. He bowed solemnly before her and then mounted his horse, and we four departed with all haste.
The long, grueling ride was more tiring for me than I would have liked, but I tried not to let it show, and I obeyed Arwen and ate at suitable intervals, though to me, even the honey cakes tasted like wood. We would ride until long after dark and resume before dawn at my behest. At night Lothíriel and I shared blankets, while the prince and Beregond took turns on watch. And on the third day we skirted the City of Pelargir altogether, as I was unwilling to allow the throngs of the city slow us, and Imrahil had said that the Steward of Pelargir would be offended if the Prince of Dol Amroth did not at least pause to chat once inside the city walls.
It was quite late when we finally arrived at the camp, though a waning moon helped to light the way. Beregond went first and made our presence known. Almost immediately, Lieutenant Odrastor appeared, and without formality, he explained what had befallen my husband as we moved quickly through the camp to the tent where my husband lay injured.
As we reached it, the lieutenant laid his hand upon my arm and pulled me aside. "My princess, prepare yourself for the worst. He is failing."
Fear penetrated my mind. Soberly, I nodded and entered the dimly lit tent, followed by my companions.
Anborn was there, looking extremely tired, as he glanced up from my husband's side. He nodded when he saw me, and then he stood slowly and drew himself aside to provide me access to the bedside. I stopped in my tracks when first I saw my husband. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted my weary eyes. Faramir lay amongst a pile of furs, only his face visible. And he looked so pale and haggard, his cheekbones protruding, dark circles beneath his sunken eyes, that I knew that I might yet weep in front of these men.
I approached him quickly and sank down next to him, murmuring his name and praying that he might open his eyes for me, but he remained still, even after I stroked his beard-stubbled face gently with the backs of my fingers. His skin was cold, and I panicked a little until Anborn assured me that Faramir yet lived.
Odrastor had informed me of my husband's injuries, but I had to uncover him and look upon them myself. His body was very thin as well, his ribs plainly visible along his side, and I found his left arm bound in a sling across his body, and beneath that the arrow wound, which when I removed the bandages, I saw was oozing a disgusting, greenish fluid. It had obviously turned foul since I had last tended the wound.
"Anborn, why did you not drain this wound and wash out the infection?" I asked, dabbing at the injury with a clean cloth.
"It has been done twice every day since he was found, but it refuses to heal, Lady Éowyn." I lowered my head toward Faramir and whispered his name into his ear, but he remained insensible.
"We can find no reason for him to remain thus, my lady."
"When last did he wake?"
"Two nights past." He anticipated my next question. "He cannot keep any broth down either. We have tried all that we know to do, Lady Éowyn." His voice nearly broke with the last word, and I felt my composure slipping as well.
"Where is King Elessar? I expected that the king would tend Faramir himself," said Imrahil, the tone of his voice conveying his deep concern over his nephew. The ranger explained to him that the king had led some men out to face any Southrons who dared to come too close to the camp. But I cared not about the king, nor the Prince of Dol Amroth, nor even myself then. I grasped Faramir's right hand in both of mine and brought his cold fingers to my lips, tears dripping onto his hand.
"How did this happen, love?" I moaned quietly to him, not expecting an answer. I remembered the morning not so very long ago, when Faramir had departed from Emyn Arnen, the mischievous gleam in his grey eyes, Simbelmynë dancing so prettily beneath him as my heart had thundered in my chest just from gazing upon his handsome face. He had been so full of life despite his exhaustion from lack of sleep. My heart was now thundering again, but a different reason. Never could I have dreamed that Faramir might come to this humble state in such a short amount of time.
Unexpectedly, Lothíriel, with a steady voice, took command, saying, "Fara certainly cannot get any better if we simply surrender him to death. Lieutenant," I heard her say, "I need some extra furs or coverlets for Éowyn to bed upon, for she has just endured a grueling journey, and she requires rest and quiet just as her lord husband does." Lieutenant Odrastor left quickly without comment.
Then she said, obviously speaking to Anborn, "Sir Ranger, please go, and take some rest. I know you worry for your lord, but there is naught you can do for him if you are ill from exhaustion. Please." Anborn nodded and bowed before us all, before he departed the tent.
Imrahil spoke quietly to his daughter, explaining that he would find King Elessar and speak to him about the circumstances surrounding Faramir's condition, and I heard Lothíriel ask him to be careful before she turned her attention to me.
She knelt next to me and looked briefly upon Faramir's face as if he were simply sleeping. "Éowyn, we shall find a way to get him to drink something. He shall listen to you, and you might even convince him that it is good for him, as he always weighs your advice quite heavily."
Though what she spoke seemed nonsense to me, Lothíriel's voice calmed me and allowed me to think beyond this moment. With a last kiss of his knuckles, I gently laid his hand upon the furs next to him, and cleansed his wound thoroughly, bandaging it. Then his cousin and I lifted Faramir so that I could slide behind him, resting his head upon my chest. Odrastor returned with a few extra furs, laying them nearby, before he bowed and departed the tent.
"Never has Fara been able to resist honey," she continued in a conversational tone, "for it is his favorite flavoring for everything. You know this, Éowyn." Lothíriel found a clean spoon and a bowl upon a chest near the brazier, and then poured some hot water from the kettle into it. Then she took a jar of honey amongst her things and poured a small amount of the thick, amber-colored liquid into the water, stirring it until it was mixed to her satisfaction. Carefully, she spooned a tiny bit of the mixture into his mouth, and I gently stroked his throat until he had swallowed it. And then we waited, thinking that perhaps if he did not take too much at once, he might keep it down long enough for it to do him some good. Gently I stroked his hair while we waited, speaking softly in his ear, telling him all manner of things, wishing that he might hear me and awaken, ending this horrible nightmare for all of us.
We waited for perhaps a quarter of an hour before we dared to feed him more. We repeated the process and waited again. Altogether, he took six spoons of honeyed water, and we looked upon it as a small victory. But I knew that it was likely too little. And, though I wanted to continue, to my shame, I found myself dozing against him, all of the exertion and worry of this day finally taking its toll.
Lothíriel bowed her head, setting the remaining liquid aside for the moment. "Éowyn, you should sleep now. It is very late," she said, her voice quiet. "I will watch over him while you sleep. Shall I lay these extra furs for you?"
"Nay, Lothíriel, I wish to stay close to him." She nodded and together we raised his body enough for me to move from behind him, returning his back to the furs. I stroked Faramir's brow as I laid next to him, hugging his right arm against my chest. I wondered briefly if my husband might die in my arms that night.
"I am nearby if you require something," she said, covering me with a large fur. "Sleep well, Éowyn." I thought that I could not sleep, but my body betrayed me, and I quickly sank into slumber.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was awakened by a guard who quietly explained that though it was quite early, I had a visitor.
"For Varda's sake, who is it?" I asked irritably, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"My king," said a different voice, and I glanced up, seeing Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth bowing before me. The guard departed without further words. And I sat, looking speechlessly at Faramir's uncle. It was eerie, the resemblance between them. "Forgive me for disturbing your slumber."
"How is Faramir?" I asked, expecting the worst as I swung my legs over the edge of the cot.
"He lives yet, though the situation is grave. But his lady wife has found him at last, and perhaps she might be able to see him through this."
I nodded, thinking it unlikely.
"My king, I came to see if I might offer my assistance to your cause here in South Gondor and also to discover the circumstances surrounding my nephew's injuries." He raised a bag, placing it on the nearby table. "And the queen sends you some supplies."
"Thank you, Imrahil." I rose and dragged on my shirt, before I called a guard and had him go to bring us some food to break fast in my pavilion. I bade the prince to sit in one of my camp chairs as I dragged a wooden comb through my hair and tried my best to look presentable before the sun had even risen. I suspected that Imrahil had slept little in the past few nights and probably none at all this night, and I said as much to him.
He nodded wearily. "Éowyn was doing everything within her power to reach Faramir's side in the least amount of time, and riding at that speed makes it rather difficult to sleep within the saddle," he smiled wryly.
I nodded. "Feel free to use my pavilion for your needs, Lord Imrahil. One cannot properly function for long without proper rest."
He murmured his thanks as I sat across the small table from him and awaited some food, as I rifled through the bag, finding a note written in Sindarin from Arwen.
Estel, my love,
Within this bag I have provided you with any and all healing
herbs that I could conceive that you might need on Faramir's behalf
including the last of the athelas we had found on our past foraging
excursion.
I realize that if you have called Éowyn back to Faramir's side
that his condition must be very serious. I pray to the Valar that he
might be made well again as soon as possible, and I feel confident
that you, my husband, shall be the one to heal him yet again.
Forgive me, but I neglected to tell you some happy news that I
thought Éowyn and Faramir might want to tell you themselves, but I
feel it is important for you to know now that Éowyn is carrying
Faramir's son. I explained to her guard, Beregond, the situation, but
please, in this difficult time, make certain that she is taking care
of herself and the future Steward of Gondor as best as you can.
And above all, take care of yourself. I could not bear it were
I put in Éowyn's position. I feel for all my centuries of living that
I am but a weak creature next to that woman!
I love you!
Arwen
The prince had waited patiently while I read, and I folded the letter, setting it aside to read again later. The food arrived, duck eggs poached in wine, oatcakes with honey and some bacon, along with some strong- flavored tea that I like to drink in the mornings. Imrahil accepted the tea with a murmur of thanks but refused the food.
"Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Imrahil." Without further preamble, I launched into a full account of what I knew for certain had happened to the man's nephew, omitting nothing. The prince nodded occasionally, sipping his tea, but said naught until I had reached the end of the tale. "I fear that we were too late in finding him to save his life."
Imrahil raised his eyebrow. "And yet, you are here in South Gondor while Faramir remains alive in Ithilien, albeit by a thread. I never expected you to abandon him in his greatest hour of need, Aragorn." The words were harsh, but the tone was not. And yet I cringed.
"I have already been reminded of the many bad choices that I have made in the past few days. And I feel that I have failed your nephew on many counts as well."
"He is a man grown, Aragorn, and well able to fend for himself under normal circumstances."
I shoved my breakfast aside, no longer hungry. "I have already tried to blame him for these events, but I failed to look upon him as a soldier, which is in effect what he yet is, despite his titles. I allowed him to enter an area where I had no idea of the civil turmoil. And as king, it is my duty to know all that occurs in my kingdom. I should have made him wait until I had a full report of the conditions down here. But I was too involved with the White City. If I had but known, I could have issued him a full company of rangers to accompany him, instead of the three that he requested for himself."
Imrahil took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "There is naught that can be done about it now, my king, with the exception of your watching over Faramir in his last hours, and easing his passing if needs be." His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I looked away to give him a moment's privacy.
"I will not take his life from him, Lord Prince."
"Perhaps not, but I think he deserves your presence at the very least." I looked back at Imrahil's face, noting the undercurrent of anger running through his words, and I nodded slowly, knowing that he was right.
"Then I shall depart here at dawn and return to his side. General Solasgil is more than capable of handling this operation."
The prince nodded, murmuring his thanks. "I know this is not easy for you, Aragorn. But it is not easy for any of us, most especially dear Éowyn."
I agreed with him, now understanding why Faramir was unhappy that his wife would be returning to the River Poros. "I will help where the Valar allow me to. Thank you for helping me see the foolishness of my actions, Imrahil."
"A king can never have too many advisors, Aragorn," he smiled faintly.
"With any luck, I shall not lose any of you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I awakened, I was curled against Faramir's still form, my arm draped across his bare chest. He had not moved, and he looked no better in the morning light than he had yestereve, but he was yet alive. I sat up with a moan.
Lothíriel dozed upon a pile of furs nearby. I spoke quietly to my husband as I checked his side wound again. It looked no different from the night before, but I left it uncovered for a while, hoping that it might help somehow to have the air against it.
With a soft caress of my husband's face, I rose and found Beregond, who had stationed himself outside of his lord's tent, and I asked him to fetch some items for me. He nodded as I named what I required before he departed, glad of something else to do.
Returning to the tent, I sat, stroking Faramir's rough cheeks until the guard returned with a bucket of heated water, various clean cloths, and his own razor and soap. I thanked him, and dismissed him, and then I began to wash my husband's wasted body. I drained the foulness from the injury on his side, and then I redressed the wound.
After I had finished bathing him thoroughly, I lathered his face and neck and began to carefully draw the sharp razor over the stubble upon his emaciated face. It suddenly occurred to me that I might simply slit his throat and spare him the further indignity of lying abed and wasting away. I fingered the razor, morbidly considering this option for more than a little time, trying to imagine what Faramir would wish for himself.
"Éowyn?"
Lothíriel's frightened voice interrupted my musing, and I looked up at her, as I yet held the edge of the razor close to Faramir's exposed throat.
"What do you think you are doing?" she asked, rising to her feet.
I looked back at Faramir. "I am shaving my husband," I murmured. But she is not a stupid woman, and she knew my thoughts.
"Please, Éowyn, there is always hope." Her thoughts echoed those of Arwen, and I knew then for a certainty that Faramir would only want only what was best for me. If there was any chance that I might have my husband back, then it was not my place to steal his remaining life from him. I shuddered in horror at the thing that I had been contemplating, and Lothíriel visibly relaxed as she turned her back to me and gathered her composure once again.
After I stilled my shaking hands, I resumed shaving him, carefully pulling the razor's edge along the length of his jaw and neck before wiping the remaining lather from his sallow skin. I cursed aloud, seeing that somehow I had accidentally cut him anyway. Lothíriel whirled to face us, her face pale and concerned as she approached and knelt next to me. I dabbed at the wound with a cloth, but when I drew it away, instead of red blood, I noticed that there was a strange black liquid draining from the tiny gash.
"Beregond!" I exclaimed, bringing the guard running from outside. "Fetch the king at once!"