~@-/Pains in the Heart\-@~
I don't own Middle-earth or the people in it. You don't *seriously* need a disclaimer by now? Not that you read them. Do you? Sad, sad children. I could be calling the load of you S-O-Bs and you wouldn't know the difference. (I'm not calling you S-O-Bs by the way.) Just read the story. Read the fruit of my fingers. Don't waste time on the disclaimer. ... You just don't get the hint, do you?
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Don't flame me!
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Common Welsh Green: Thanks! I fell to a worthy opponent - that has got to be the best cliff-hanger of all time. Funny you should post that; I just finished rereading TTT and I've got ROTK open here at like page 23. Gotta read it in time for the move. Five days! *screams in excitement and does a little dance* [sigh] Three and a quarter hours... bliss!
mousie2: It's hard to write this stuff y'know! I know what's going to happen, but it's difficult trying to *make* it happen.
Rosa Cotton: I do indeed. It's more 'fun'.
Ithil: Completely bastardising Faramir, as I am doing now, was unacceptable. The difference is, I'm not passing this off as Tolkien.
Necole: You wouldn't believe how gratifying (and fun) it is to read reviews like yours! Read on.
The Dark Wanderer: It was a horrible choice, but it had to be made. -------------------
We're getting inside the characters' heads here. I thought it might be interesting to see how different people interpret the same things. Enjoy!
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--+-- The Training Room --+--
Éowyn's breathing was ragged, both from stress and exhaustion. "What will you do?" she said.
"If you do not love him," said Aragorn serenely, though pain was in his eyes, "I must kill him for his crime: it is the law of this City. If you do love him, I will spare him, for though he has done you wrong, in other circumstances you might have been willing."
"I am to choose a man's life?" said Éowyn. She could not quite believe what she was hearing. Why was Aragorn being so cruel?
"It is not a decision I desire to force you to make, but I would not take a man's life unjustly, and it shall be honourable if I must."
-+-Faramir-+-
Why was she hesitating? Was there a chance... no, of course not. He did not dare rise from the floor, even though Aragorn's sword was not before him. His mind called out to her, 'Éowyn, Éowyn, I am sorry! A madness took me!' but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and anguish struck him dumb. The words sounded odd even in his head, but Faramir had not known that they were the words of Boromir to Frodo on Amon Hen months before.
But they were true nonetheless. Now Faramir saw that he had transformed, and was now returned; his rage had burned itself out, but too late. It had landed him too deep in despair for rescue. Her choice was obvious: she would have him put to death, and justly so, but did not want to see him die. It brought Faramir grim comfort that she retained memories of their time together in the Houses of Healing, but not enough. His heart thudded in his chest, praying that she would say yes, yet wanting justice to be served - even if it killed him.
His soul pleaded desperately with Éowyn, willing her to look at him, and to see into his heart, wanting above all else for her to understand.
-+-Éomer-+-
Stunned, Éomer searched his younger sister's face for answers. She had come to many crossroads, and always had her decision been swift and yet well-chosen. What confused her? What had Faramir done to her? But then, what had been done to Faramir?
What had caused his metamorphosis? His behaviour had been utterly uncharacteristic. It was as though a madness had taken him - the words rang oddly through Éomer's head, as though they had been placed there by some external force (for so great was the force that Faramir now exerted that his plea penetrated the minds of all those present). What was happening?
-+-Pippin-+-
Horrible thing to do - absolutely horrible. Not like Faramir at all, really. Pippin gazed up at Éowyn; she stood frozen, as she had after the Witch-king's attack. This was terrible. He felt like an unwelcome guest at a funeral. *Madness*, the whole situation (and Pippin was too confused to notice that he hadn't been thinking about that at all.) And poor old Strider, stuck between his friend and his country. Such a very *moral* fellow, and so sombre.
Faramir, still on the ground, looked frozen, too. He wasn't fidgeting or looking around, just staring at Éowyn, staring intently at her face. What was he doing? Pippin wanted to say something, but he could find nothing; besides, it seemed neither the time nor the place. Poor Faramir. Poor Éowyn. Poor Strider, too, for that matter. He was going to lose someone dear to him today: his friend or his bride.
-+-Merry-+-
Merry gulped. He didn't understand how a man like Faramir could snap like that - there was nothing like that in the Shire, or in Buckland at any rate. Of course there was mischief, like Sam's old nemesis Ted Sandyman, but never malevolence. From a hobbit's point of view, a fellow went straight from mischief to madness - no, not madness, to evil. They'd never considered middle-ground before.
And all the time, his eyes never left Éowyn. He had seen her like this before: stern and proud as a queen, but yet fair and wide-eyed as a little girl. It had been on the Pelennor, and now she was before quite a different enemy, and that enemy was herself.
-+-Aragorn-+-
His head drooped. Éowyn's silence was enough. Her heart was torn. She loved them both. He could barely grip his sword, for his hand shook like a leaf, but none could see. All eyes were on Éowyn and Faramir. He did not think about Faramir's motives, and as his mind was turned not to Faramir's, he heard not the call.
This was the moment. The time had come.
-+-Éowyn-+-
She looked between them, and straightened her back. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, when a voice - Faramir's voice - rang through her mind, clear as the day that was now breaking over Gondor.
'Éowyn, Éowyn, I am sorry! A madness took me! Do not heed the darkness, for darkness possessed me, and I would die rather than walk in it once more, but it has passed, Éowyn. Walk in the light, as I do, whether I am far away or no! I am sorry.'
The voice died away. Éowyn closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, they were full of tears. "I cannot choose," she said, the whine of tears tingeing her voice. "I do not will his death, but I do not love him beyond - beyond you, Aragorn. Kill him not, but send him away, far away, until we are wed at the very least."
Then the tears flowed freely now, for it sounded false coming from her mouth: false and forced. They would get the wrong idea, both of them: they would think that she wanted Aragorn for his crown alone, and that her heart desired Faramir instead. All was lost. Her foolish heart had cost her the only chance of happiness in her life.
-+-^-+-
Andúril clattered to the floor, but Aragorn was already halfway to Éowyn. He took her head in his hands and laid it on his shoulder, wrapping a protective arm around her back. "Shh," he murmured, "it is all right. I shall spare him. It is all right."
They stood thus for some time, and the others slipped out slowly; Éomer lingered long by the opening, glancing between floor and ceiling, until he left at last. Faramir was standing now, staring at the floor on the other side of the room from Aragorn and Éowyn. He glanced at them, just once, and saw at last that they truly belonged together, and he was glad. She had found happiness, and that was enough.
At last they broke apart, and Éowyn gazed at her feet, biting her lip. Aragorn turned to Faramir. "You shall go to Ithilien," he said gently, "and I shall send thence all that remain of the Rangers. The Haradrim are marching. Go. Send news with your men, and come not yourself: not until you are sent for, or until you alone of the Rangers of Ithilien remain."
Aragorn's tone was gentle, and not commanding. He was softly sending Faramir into exile; for how long, he knew not. But all their hearts desired it. "Yes, my lord," said Faramir with a curt nod, and he left. The horse in the stables still awaited him.
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I don't own Middle-earth or the people in it. You don't *seriously* need a disclaimer by now? Not that you read them. Do you? Sad, sad children. I could be calling the load of you S-O-Bs and you wouldn't know the difference. (I'm not calling you S-O-Bs by the way.) Just read the story. Read the fruit of my fingers. Don't waste time on the disclaimer. ... You just don't get the hint, do you?
-------------------+-------------------
Don't flame me!
-------------------
Common Welsh Green: Thanks! I fell to a worthy opponent - that has got to be the best cliff-hanger of all time. Funny you should post that; I just finished rereading TTT and I've got ROTK open here at like page 23. Gotta read it in time for the move. Five days! *screams in excitement and does a little dance* [sigh] Three and a quarter hours... bliss!
mousie2: It's hard to write this stuff y'know! I know what's going to happen, but it's difficult trying to *make* it happen.
Rosa Cotton: I do indeed. It's more 'fun'.
Ithil: Completely bastardising Faramir, as I am doing now, was unacceptable. The difference is, I'm not passing this off as Tolkien.
Necole: You wouldn't believe how gratifying (and fun) it is to read reviews like yours! Read on.
The Dark Wanderer: It was a horrible choice, but it had to be made. -------------------
We're getting inside the characters' heads here. I thought it might be interesting to see how different people interpret the same things. Enjoy!
-------------------+-------------------
--+-- The Training Room --+--
Éowyn's breathing was ragged, both from stress and exhaustion. "What will you do?" she said.
"If you do not love him," said Aragorn serenely, though pain was in his eyes, "I must kill him for his crime: it is the law of this City. If you do love him, I will spare him, for though he has done you wrong, in other circumstances you might have been willing."
"I am to choose a man's life?" said Éowyn. She could not quite believe what she was hearing. Why was Aragorn being so cruel?
"It is not a decision I desire to force you to make, but I would not take a man's life unjustly, and it shall be honourable if I must."
-+-Faramir-+-
Why was she hesitating? Was there a chance... no, of course not. He did not dare rise from the floor, even though Aragorn's sword was not before him. His mind called out to her, 'Éowyn, Éowyn, I am sorry! A madness took me!' but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and anguish struck him dumb. The words sounded odd even in his head, but Faramir had not known that they were the words of Boromir to Frodo on Amon Hen months before.
But they were true nonetheless. Now Faramir saw that he had transformed, and was now returned; his rage had burned itself out, but too late. It had landed him too deep in despair for rescue. Her choice was obvious: she would have him put to death, and justly so, but did not want to see him die. It brought Faramir grim comfort that she retained memories of their time together in the Houses of Healing, but not enough. His heart thudded in his chest, praying that she would say yes, yet wanting justice to be served - even if it killed him.
His soul pleaded desperately with Éowyn, willing her to look at him, and to see into his heart, wanting above all else for her to understand.
-+-Éomer-+-
Stunned, Éomer searched his younger sister's face for answers. She had come to many crossroads, and always had her decision been swift and yet well-chosen. What confused her? What had Faramir done to her? But then, what had been done to Faramir?
What had caused his metamorphosis? His behaviour had been utterly uncharacteristic. It was as though a madness had taken him - the words rang oddly through Éomer's head, as though they had been placed there by some external force (for so great was the force that Faramir now exerted that his plea penetrated the minds of all those present). What was happening?
-+-Pippin-+-
Horrible thing to do - absolutely horrible. Not like Faramir at all, really. Pippin gazed up at Éowyn; she stood frozen, as she had after the Witch-king's attack. This was terrible. He felt like an unwelcome guest at a funeral. *Madness*, the whole situation (and Pippin was too confused to notice that he hadn't been thinking about that at all.) And poor old Strider, stuck between his friend and his country. Such a very *moral* fellow, and so sombre.
Faramir, still on the ground, looked frozen, too. He wasn't fidgeting or looking around, just staring at Éowyn, staring intently at her face. What was he doing? Pippin wanted to say something, but he could find nothing; besides, it seemed neither the time nor the place. Poor Faramir. Poor Éowyn. Poor Strider, too, for that matter. He was going to lose someone dear to him today: his friend or his bride.
-+-Merry-+-
Merry gulped. He didn't understand how a man like Faramir could snap like that - there was nothing like that in the Shire, or in Buckland at any rate. Of course there was mischief, like Sam's old nemesis Ted Sandyman, but never malevolence. From a hobbit's point of view, a fellow went straight from mischief to madness - no, not madness, to evil. They'd never considered middle-ground before.
And all the time, his eyes never left Éowyn. He had seen her like this before: stern and proud as a queen, but yet fair and wide-eyed as a little girl. It had been on the Pelennor, and now she was before quite a different enemy, and that enemy was herself.
-+-Aragorn-+-
His head drooped. Éowyn's silence was enough. Her heart was torn. She loved them both. He could barely grip his sword, for his hand shook like a leaf, but none could see. All eyes were on Éowyn and Faramir. He did not think about Faramir's motives, and as his mind was turned not to Faramir's, he heard not the call.
This was the moment. The time had come.
-+-Éowyn-+-
She looked between them, and straightened her back. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, when a voice - Faramir's voice - rang through her mind, clear as the day that was now breaking over Gondor.
'Éowyn, Éowyn, I am sorry! A madness took me! Do not heed the darkness, for darkness possessed me, and I would die rather than walk in it once more, but it has passed, Éowyn. Walk in the light, as I do, whether I am far away or no! I am sorry.'
The voice died away. Éowyn closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, they were full of tears. "I cannot choose," she said, the whine of tears tingeing her voice. "I do not will his death, but I do not love him beyond - beyond you, Aragorn. Kill him not, but send him away, far away, until we are wed at the very least."
Then the tears flowed freely now, for it sounded false coming from her mouth: false and forced. They would get the wrong idea, both of them: they would think that she wanted Aragorn for his crown alone, and that her heart desired Faramir instead. All was lost. Her foolish heart had cost her the only chance of happiness in her life.
-+-^-+-
Andúril clattered to the floor, but Aragorn was already halfway to Éowyn. He took her head in his hands and laid it on his shoulder, wrapping a protective arm around her back. "Shh," he murmured, "it is all right. I shall spare him. It is all right."
They stood thus for some time, and the others slipped out slowly; Éomer lingered long by the opening, glancing between floor and ceiling, until he left at last. Faramir was standing now, staring at the floor on the other side of the room from Aragorn and Éowyn. He glanced at them, just once, and saw at last that they truly belonged together, and he was glad. She had found happiness, and that was enough.
At last they broke apart, and Éowyn gazed at her feet, biting her lip. Aragorn turned to Faramir. "You shall go to Ithilien," he said gently, "and I shall send thence all that remain of the Rangers. The Haradrim are marching. Go. Send news with your men, and come not yourself: not until you are sent for, or until you alone of the Rangers of Ithilien remain."
Aragorn's tone was gentle, and not commanding. He was softly sending Faramir into exile; for how long, he knew not. But all their hearts desired it. "Yes, my lord," said Faramir with a curt nod, and he left. The horse in the stables still awaited him.
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