-/Pains in the Heart-
I don't own the characters, just the plot. Please don't sue me!
--------------------------------------
---- Minas Tirith: Faramir's Chambers ----
If he were to leave, it would have to be tonight, before Aragorn could meet with him. There was only one reason for this rendezvous: he knew about the kiss. Faramir got the feeling of conflict once again, as though he was being torn in two by warring factions in his mind.
One, the side that was permanently enraged, screamed that Éomer had broken his end of the bargain, that it was only fitting that Faramir should go back on his promise, too. The other tried to quell the first, pleading that a deal, even one that one side did not keep, remained valid until both ends broke it; that was the side of the noble Faramir that had had a chance of wooing Éowyn. The fey side had not existed before.
His gentle spirit was no pushover, but every one of Denethor's subtle taunts that his love of lore made him the weaker brother, and every time Boromir had gained all the praise for a group effort... a tiny store of bitterness had begun to well up in Faramir's soul. It had accumulated, and now was screaming for release.
---- Minas Tirith: Éomer's Chambers ----
"Are you sure everything is all right?" said Aragorn desperately. Éowyn was sitting in Éomer's room, apparently fine. What, then, had caused these visions? Was he going mad? "Nothing happened when I was gone?"
Éowyn glanced at her brother. "I slipped," she lied. "Faramir was escorting me back to my room after the party and I stumbled on the step. Éomer's room was closest. I am somewhat shaken, of course, but unhurt."
Aragorn was not sure whether he believed this or not. It all seemed very convenient, forced somehow. "Yes... I met Faramir on my way here. He seemed very tense."
"He was very concerned about Éowyn," said Éomer, proud of his little sister's excellent lie. She was making it up as she went along. "He thinks he is responsible for her fall."
"He has convinced himself that he tripped me with his sheath," said Éowyn with a wry smile. "He is very protective of me."
Within a few minutes, Aragorn was taking Éowyn back. She could find nothing to say to him, but no words were needed. He took her hand into his and they walked thus, arriving at her door in what seemed like no time at all.
"Are you-"
"Yes, Aragorn," grinned Éowyn. "I will be fine in the morning. Good night."
"Good night, my lady."
--------
Faramir's heart thudded in his chest. His horse was saddled and he had provisions enough for the short journey to the Emyn Arnen. He wanted to bid Éowyn farewell. He knocked lightly on her door, for he had not yet given in to his dark side and kept at least some honour, though he did not usually consider entering a maiden's bedchamber in the night honourable.
The door opened silently. Her bed was not far from the door and a beam of light from the torchlit hall fell across her face. She was sleeping.
As Faramir tiptoed across the floor, she stirred and rolled over. He would have to go round to the other side - or no... no, Éomer broke his promise.
Quietly as possible, Faramir sat himself gently onto the bed beside her. She slept fretfully, and wore naught but a thin gown of translucent white. Faramir's heart beat faster. He leaned gently forward and kissed her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered opened. Her troubled brow deepened in recognition.
"Faramir?" she breathed. "What- what are you doing?"
"Saying goodbye," he whispered. "I'm leaving for Ithilien tonight."
Éowyn sat up. Somehow, she didn't want him to go. "Why?"
"It is my duty," he shrugged.
"But why now?"
"Éomer has broken his part of the bargain. Aragorn knows about my... mistake. I dare not await the morning."
"Éomer has broken nothing," frowned Éowyn.
There was a knock at the door. "Éowyn?" It was Aragorn. He pushed the door further ajar. Fear flooded Faramir. He knew how it would look to Aragorn: a spurned suitor sitting in a scantily-clad Éowyn's bedchamber. Not good.
===================
I don't own the characters, just the plot. Please don't sue me!
--------------------------------------
---- Minas Tirith: Faramir's Chambers ----
If he were to leave, it would have to be tonight, before Aragorn could meet with him. There was only one reason for this rendezvous: he knew about the kiss. Faramir got the feeling of conflict once again, as though he was being torn in two by warring factions in his mind.
One, the side that was permanently enraged, screamed that Éomer had broken his end of the bargain, that it was only fitting that Faramir should go back on his promise, too. The other tried to quell the first, pleading that a deal, even one that one side did not keep, remained valid until both ends broke it; that was the side of the noble Faramir that had had a chance of wooing Éowyn. The fey side had not existed before.
His gentle spirit was no pushover, but every one of Denethor's subtle taunts that his love of lore made him the weaker brother, and every time Boromir had gained all the praise for a group effort... a tiny store of bitterness had begun to well up in Faramir's soul. It had accumulated, and now was screaming for release.
---- Minas Tirith: Éomer's Chambers ----
"Are you sure everything is all right?" said Aragorn desperately. Éowyn was sitting in Éomer's room, apparently fine. What, then, had caused these visions? Was he going mad? "Nothing happened when I was gone?"
Éowyn glanced at her brother. "I slipped," she lied. "Faramir was escorting me back to my room after the party and I stumbled on the step. Éomer's room was closest. I am somewhat shaken, of course, but unhurt."
Aragorn was not sure whether he believed this or not. It all seemed very convenient, forced somehow. "Yes... I met Faramir on my way here. He seemed very tense."
"He was very concerned about Éowyn," said Éomer, proud of his little sister's excellent lie. She was making it up as she went along. "He thinks he is responsible for her fall."
"He has convinced himself that he tripped me with his sheath," said Éowyn with a wry smile. "He is very protective of me."
Within a few minutes, Aragorn was taking Éowyn back. She could find nothing to say to him, but no words were needed. He took her hand into his and they walked thus, arriving at her door in what seemed like no time at all.
"Are you-"
"Yes, Aragorn," grinned Éowyn. "I will be fine in the morning. Good night."
"Good night, my lady."
--------
Faramir's heart thudded in his chest. His horse was saddled and he had provisions enough for the short journey to the Emyn Arnen. He wanted to bid Éowyn farewell. He knocked lightly on her door, for he had not yet given in to his dark side and kept at least some honour, though he did not usually consider entering a maiden's bedchamber in the night honourable.
The door opened silently. Her bed was not far from the door and a beam of light from the torchlit hall fell across her face. She was sleeping.
As Faramir tiptoed across the floor, she stirred and rolled over. He would have to go round to the other side - or no... no, Éomer broke his promise.
Quietly as possible, Faramir sat himself gently onto the bed beside her. She slept fretfully, and wore naught but a thin gown of translucent white. Faramir's heart beat faster. He leaned gently forward and kissed her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered opened. Her troubled brow deepened in recognition.
"Faramir?" she breathed. "What- what are you doing?"
"Saying goodbye," he whispered. "I'm leaving for Ithilien tonight."
Éowyn sat up. Somehow, she didn't want him to go. "Why?"
"It is my duty," he shrugged.
"But why now?"
"Éomer has broken his part of the bargain. Aragorn knows about my... mistake. I dare not await the morning."
"Éomer has broken nothing," frowned Éowyn.
There was a knock at the door. "Éowyn?" It was Aragorn. He pushed the door further ajar. Fear flooded Faramir. He knew how it would look to Aragorn: a spurned suitor sitting in a scantily-clad Éowyn's bedchamber. Not good.
===================