Author's Note: For a relatively short chapter this has been a long time in coming. Sadly school takes precedence over many other endevors including fan fiction. I also had quite a severe bout of writer's block, so the first few paragraphs were excerutiating to write. Honestly it was like trying to get blood from a turnip. (A queer metaphor I heard once.) But thanks to some other wonderul Eowyn/Faramir romances on this site (Neither Death Nor Pain in particular) I was able to break though my writer's block and thus we have this.
Lyggy: Dah-ling, the reviews were too sweet, especially after what I said about "Pains of the Heart." Honestly you could have flamed me and I would have thought it justified. But to you somewhat appreciate my Faramir obsession now??? And the O's are v. annoying, I know. It does that becasue I have a Mac and have to add on the label for some odd reason. Savvy?
To all my other reviewers: I love you all! Until I started writing fanfiction I had no conception of how much a review means to an author. Now even the tiniest, one line review makes my day.
I am going to see Return of the King on the first day! At 3:05 so I'm getting out of 6th and 7th period! Hurray!
Yours truly,
Lauren
read 'n review
Chapter 5
* * * * * * *
Faramir
ÒMy lord?Ó The WardenÕs voice penetrated my thoughts and I was brought out of my trance, captivated both my the ladyÕs sorrow and fairness. ÒShe rode with the king and was sorely hurt, and now dwells in my keeping. But she is not content and wishes to speak to the Steward of the City,Ó he continued.
ÒDo not misunderstand him, lord,Ó she murmured her voice woeful and hallow, relying little emotion. ÒIt is not the lack of care that grieves me. No house could be fairer, for those who desire to be healed...Ó she trailed off, her eyes wandering to the east.
ÒYou do not wish to be healed, I deem,Ó I alleged as she vacantly stared off into the abyss. If only I could reach out, ensnare her limp ivory hand, alabaster and immaculate. Then maybe I could save her, rescue her from her own despair.
Her pall tone, saturated with pure despondency though quietly infuriated and derisive towards her self startled me as she began again. ÒI can not lie in sloth, idle, caged,Ó she said, her voice growing more remote and desperate, a plea for help though she did not intend it to be. ÒI looked for death in battle. I have not died and the battle still goes on,Ó she stated simply.
Unaware of my own actions I reached out and brushed a stray golden hair away from her chaste forehead. She did not recoil as I half feared she would but nor did she acknowledge me either. The Warden, catching my glance hastily bowed and retreated into the House.
ÒWhen I was very young, when my grief for my mother was still fresh and not dulled by the decay of time, ere the sun rose each morning I would go the walls and watch it crest over the blood stained mountains that once enclosed out foes in Mordor before their devilry spread. And such hues I saw, shades of scarlet, crimson and chartreuse and tones of gold to enough to rival anything in our treasury. But never before and never again, I deem, will I behold so fair golden hue, glistening in the sun as one fine hair upon your head,Ó I said, not quite grasping hold of my emotions.
ÒThose are breathtaking words for sure, lord, but hallow and empty words they are also. And they give me no comfort.
ÒWhat would you have me do, lady? I also am a prisoner of the healers,Ó I said, casting my eyes eastward as well.
Then I gazed upon her alluring, enticing features and pity for her woe smote my soul. My heart ached for as she moored her frigid, somber stare upon me. And she quivered and shuddered as one waking from a state of numbed emotion does upon savoring the bitter sweetness of feeling once again.
ÒWhat do you wish?Ó I asked tenderly, ever so gently. ÒIf it lies in my power, I will do it.Ó Thus I bared my soul to the White Lady of Rohan.
ÒI would have you command this Warden, and bid him to let me go,Ó said she. But I perceived an edge of doubt growing on her conscience and her voice faltered and trailed off. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps her heartache, her anguish, her despair was not so final and complete. Perhaps...
The Lady gave an audible sigh. There we stood in the midst of all things luminous and ripening for the seasons did not heed the doubt and trepidation in the hears of all in the City of the Guard and only traced their ancient pattern, the flowers still blooming, the breeze still stirring as if nothing had changed, and yet she remained still in the umbra of despair. Though we had little hope in forever escaping darkness it was abating and though my mind housed foreboding and dubiousness my heart pleaded to differ, crying that all was alive and blossoming, how could the end of the world be approaching? All my reason and experience told me that even tomorrowÕs dawn was uncertain, lecturing me that we would all perish or be made slaves to the darkness ere the end. Yet as I looked upon all the fair things of the world, Eowyn not the least, I did not believe, could endure that this would be the end of all things. So much I once knew had changed, the things I perceived as being as constant as the breaking and setting of the sun had ceased to be yet I still had hope while she had nothing save despair. And that perceived my soul, chilled my blood as I looked upon her. I longed to aid her, yearned to be her salvation, desired to heal her but I was uncertain if that resided in my power. Still I ached to....
ÒI myself am in the WardenÕs keeping,Ó I offered, regretting have naught but an excuse. But even if I could grant her request, would I, knowing it very well may bring about her death. Yet even in the safety of the House of Healing her survival still hung by a thread. Thankful, I was, not having to succumb to making that decision, that resolution upon which so much rested. ÒNot have I yet taken up my authority in the City. But had I done so, I should still listen to the WardenÕs counsel, and should not cross his will in matters of his craft, unless in some great need.Ó
ÒBut I do not desire healing,Ó said the White Lady of Rohan. ÒI wish to ride to war like my brother Eomer, or better like Theoden the king, for he has died and has both honor and peace.Ó
ÒWill death bring that to you, lady? Honor and peace? Honor you have already gleaned though you know it not. If we even escape this bordering abyss they shall speak of you in song and story. Even if all falls under onyx those left of our kindred, of Rohan and Gondor too, shall whisper in the night of your deeds of great valor ere all was lost. Peace none can grant now,Ó I said, but still her desperation remained, not even cracking ever so slightly. ÒIt is too late, lady, to follow the Captain, even if you had strength. But death in battle may come to all of us yet, willing or unwilling. You will be better prepared to to face it in your own manner, if while there is still time you do as the Healer commanded. You and I, we must endure with patience the hours of waiting,Ó I pleaded with her.
She said nothing, remaining taciturn and pensive. Yet when I peered past her veil of hair as golden as the dawn I sensed a minute transformation in her bearing. Something relented in her and ever so slightly her frost diminished, and I detected a bitter tear sliding down her alabaster cheek unchecked. Once again not cognizant of my own startling actions I reached up and with my rough thumb stroked her cheek, caressing the tear away. She looked up at me, grey eyes brimming with unshed tears i knew she was fighting to hold back. How I longed for her to begin to sob, to break the boundaries she set up between her and the rest of the world, to truly cry. I wish I could hold her and tell her how tears can wash away pain, how merely weeping could heal so many wounds. Yet she still remained distant and remote.
My hand lingered on her frigid, ivory, lurid cheek until she gradually turned away. Still she was out of my grasp...
Lyggy: Dah-ling, the reviews were too sweet, especially after what I said about "Pains of the Heart." Honestly you could have flamed me and I would have thought it justified. But to you somewhat appreciate my Faramir obsession now??? And the O's are v. annoying, I know. It does that becasue I have a Mac and have to add on the label for some odd reason. Savvy?
To all my other reviewers: I love you all! Until I started writing fanfiction I had no conception of how much a review means to an author. Now even the tiniest, one line review makes my day.
I am going to see Return of the King on the first day! At 3:05 so I'm getting out of 6th and 7th period! Hurray!
Yours truly,
Lauren
read 'n review
Chapter 5
* * * * * * *
Faramir
ÒMy lord?Ó The WardenÕs voice penetrated my thoughts and I was brought out of my trance, captivated both my the ladyÕs sorrow and fairness. ÒShe rode with the king and was sorely hurt, and now dwells in my keeping. But she is not content and wishes to speak to the Steward of the City,Ó he continued.
ÒDo not misunderstand him, lord,Ó she murmured her voice woeful and hallow, relying little emotion. ÒIt is not the lack of care that grieves me. No house could be fairer, for those who desire to be healed...Ó she trailed off, her eyes wandering to the east.
ÒYou do not wish to be healed, I deem,Ó I alleged as she vacantly stared off into the abyss. If only I could reach out, ensnare her limp ivory hand, alabaster and immaculate. Then maybe I could save her, rescue her from her own despair.
Her pall tone, saturated with pure despondency though quietly infuriated and derisive towards her self startled me as she began again. ÒI can not lie in sloth, idle, caged,Ó she said, her voice growing more remote and desperate, a plea for help though she did not intend it to be. ÒI looked for death in battle. I have not died and the battle still goes on,Ó she stated simply.
Unaware of my own actions I reached out and brushed a stray golden hair away from her chaste forehead. She did not recoil as I half feared she would but nor did she acknowledge me either. The Warden, catching my glance hastily bowed and retreated into the House.
ÒWhen I was very young, when my grief for my mother was still fresh and not dulled by the decay of time, ere the sun rose each morning I would go the walls and watch it crest over the blood stained mountains that once enclosed out foes in Mordor before their devilry spread. And such hues I saw, shades of scarlet, crimson and chartreuse and tones of gold to enough to rival anything in our treasury. But never before and never again, I deem, will I behold so fair golden hue, glistening in the sun as one fine hair upon your head,Ó I said, not quite grasping hold of my emotions.
ÒThose are breathtaking words for sure, lord, but hallow and empty words they are also. And they give me no comfort.
ÒWhat would you have me do, lady? I also am a prisoner of the healers,Ó I said, casting my eyes eastward as well.
Then I gazed upon her alluring, enticing features and pity for her woe smote my soul. My heart ached for as she moored her frigid, somber stare upon me. And she quivered and shuddered as one waking from a state of numbed emotion does upon savoring the bitter sweetness of feeling once again.
ÒWhat do you wish?Ó I asked tenderly, ever so gently. ÒIf it lies in my power, I will do it.Ó Thus I bared my soul to the White Lady of Rohan.
ÒI would have you command this Warden, and bid him to let me go,Ó said she. But I perceived an edge of doubt growing on her conscience and her voice faltered and trailed off. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps her heartache, her anguish, her despair was not so final and complete. Perhaps...
The Lady gave an audible sigh. There we stood in the midst of all things luminous and ripening for the seasons did not heed the doubt and trepidation in the hears of all in the City of the Guard and only traced their ancient pattern, the flowers still blooming, the breeze still stirring as if nothing had changed, and yet she remained still in the umbra of despair. Though we had little hope in forever escaping darkness it was abating and though my mind housed foreboding and dubiousness my heart pleaded to differ, crying that all was alive and blossoming, how could the end of the world be approaching? All my reason and experience told me that even tomorrowÕs dawn was uncertain, lecturing me that we would all perish or be made slaves to the darkness ere the end. Yet as I looked upon all the fair things of the world, Eowyn not the least, I did not believe, could endure that this would be the end of all things. So much I once knew had changed, the things I perceived as being as constant as the breaking and setting of the sun had ceased to be yet I still had hope while she had nothing save despair. And that perceived my soul, chilled my blood as I looked upon her. I longed to aid her, yearned to be her salvation, desired to heal her but I was uncertain if that resided in my power. Still I ached to....
ÒI myself am in the WardenÕs keeping,Ó I offered, regretting have naught but an excuse. But even if I could grant her request, would I, knowing it very well may bring about her death. Yet even in the safety of the House of Healing her survival still hung by a thread. Thankful, I was, not having to succumb to making that decision, that resolution upon which so much rested. ÒNot have I yet taken up my authority in the City. But had I done so, I should still listen to the WardenÕs counsel, and should not cross his will in matters of his craft, unless in some great need.Ó
ÒBut I do not desire healing,Ó said the White Lady of Rohan. ÒI wish to ride to war like my brother Eomer, or better like Theoden the king, for he has died and has both honor and peace.Ó
ÒWill death bring that to you, lady? Honor and peace? Honor you have already gleaned though you know it not. If we even escape this bordering abyss they shall speak of you in song and story. Even if all falls under onyx those left of our kindred, of Rohan and Gondor too, shall whisper in the night of your deeds of great valor ere all was lost. Peace none can grant now,Ó I said, but still her desperation remained, not even cracking ever so slightly. ÒIt is too late, lady, to follow the Captain, even if you had strength. But death in battle may come to all of us yet, willing or unwilling. You will be better prepared to to face it in your own manner, if while there is still time you do as the Healer commanded. You and I, we must endure with patience the hours of waiting,Ó I pleaded with her.
She said nothing, remaining taciturn and pensive. Yet when I peered past her veil of hair as golden as the dawn I sensed a minute transformation in her bearing. Something relented in her and ever so slightly her frost diminished, and I detected a bitter tear sliding down her alabaster cheek unchecked. Once again not cognizant of my own startling actions I reached up and with my rough thumb stroked her cheek, caressing the tear away. She looked up at me, grey eyes brimming with unshed tears i knew she was fighting to hold back. How I longed for her to begin to sob, to break the boundaries she set up between her and the rest of the world, to truly cry. I wish I could hold her and tell her how tears can wash away pain, how merely weeping could heal so many wounds. Yet she still remained distant and remote.
My hand lingered on her frigid, ivory, lurid cheek until she gradually turned away. Still she was out of my grasp...