Part 4: Reconciliation

Faramir's hand tightened around his longbow slightly, but he set the end of it on the ground casually as he waited for the King of Rohan to continue. He was determined not to let Éomer intimidate him this time.

Éomer glanced around, feeling awkward. Now that he was here, he had no idea what to say to Faramir. "I…um…" he started, gritting his teeth in irritation. His eyes rested on Faramir's longbow, which stood a bit taller than he did. How can anyone shoot that thing? he wondered, and without thinking, he said, "'Tis a pity we did not have that bow of yours the other day. We could have just used it to beat the door down."

That was not good, he realized as Faramir replied in an irritated tone, "And if we had one of those twigs that your people call bows, we could have just used it to pick the lock. But if your reason for coming here was just to insult the weapons of Gondor, I would appreciate you saving this conversation for another time. I am on duty."

"I am sorry, I did not mean it that way," Éomer said quickly. By the Valar, he hated this! Facing down a whole army of orcs would be easier than this! he thought. Faramir's only reply was to eye him stonily. Éomer felt increasingly more awkward, and what came out next surprised him as much as it did Faramir. "Do you ever wish things could have been different?"

"What do you mean?" Faramir asked cautiously. He had been certain that Éomer would be more direct.

"You never expected to be the Steward of Gondor, let alone Prince of Ithilien," Éomer replied, shifting his feet nervously. Stop stalling, you coward! he thought, wishing that he could just figure out what he really wanted to say and get it over with.

To Éomer's relief, Faramir relaxed a little. "No, I did not." A sad half-smile crossed his face as he added, "Boromir and I had it all planned; when he was Steward, I would be his right-hand. That way I could handle all the diplomacy and leave him free to plan the borders' defenses."

"Théodred and I had a similar plan," Éomer said. "When he was King, I would continue to have charge of the armies of the Eastfold. I never thought it would come to this," he added, motioning to the signet ring that showed his position. He hesitantly looked over at Faramir and asked, "Do you ever wonder if you are the right person for this job?"

Faramir gazed out into the distance. "Every single day," he said softly. "Boromir was the one trained for this, not I. I cannot help wondering sometimes if Aragorn's confidence in me is misplaced."

"At least you still have someone over you," Éomer grumbled. "I thought at first that leading a nation would be like leading an éored, only on a larger scale, but it is so different." He smiled wryly. "If not for Éowyn's aid, I am sure that I would have led Rohan into ruin by now." As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a stab of bitterness as he remembered why he was there. And you are going to take her away.

Faramir could guess what Éomer was thinking as the younger man's smile faded. "I am not trying to take her from you, Éomer," he said quietly. Éomer glanced over, a steely glint in his eyes. "I know you do not believe that I deserve your sister," he continued, looking down a bit. "I know that I do not; she deserves no less than the king of Gondor. But I love her nonetheless."

Éomer's frown faded, though he did not smile. "I know," he said softly. If he was truly honest with himself, he had known all along. "And I think I…I owe you an apology," he reluctantly added. Faramir looked up at him, clearly surprised, as Éomer continued. "I hate to say it, but Aragorn and Merry were right; I never did give you a chance. I thought it would be the best thing for Éowyn because I…" he abruptly stopped.

Faramir's blue-grey eyes looked at him keenly. "Because you wanted to protect her?" he asked.

"How do you do that?" Éomer groaned.

"What?" Faramir said.

"Can you read minds?" Éomer asked bluntly.

Faramir laughed. "Not exactly," he said, smiling. "But you are rather easy to read; your thoughts are practically written on your face." Éomer narrowed his eyes slightly, and Faramir quickly elaborated, "It was not intended as an insult. I meant that you do not hide what you are thinking, and so it is easy to take you at your word."

The young king nodded slightly as Faramir continued. "From what I have observed, you are very protective of Éowyn. She is fortunate to have a brother who cares for her so deeply." His smile faded. "Truthfully, from what little she has told me about her last few years in Edoras, I would be just as protective of her if I were in your position." Now it was Éomer's turn to look surprised. "But I can assure you that I would never intentionally bring harm to your sister. Or do anything to bring her honor into question," he added, giving Éomer a pointed look.

"All right, maybe I did overreact just a little," Éomer said. "This is just going to take some time to get used to. It is hard to think of her as a woman and not just my little sister sometimes."

Faramir smiled a little, then paused for a moment before changing the topic slightly. "She does love you very much, Éomer. The thing she was most afraid of during her stay in the Houses of Healing was that she would never see you again. Or that if she did, you would not be able to forgive her for deceiving you."

Éomer smiled wryly. "And the entire time I thought she would not forgive me for failing to protect her. After our mother died, I swore that I would watch out for her, but I still did not see how troubled she was until it was too late." He looked up at the sky as he admitted, "I suppose I owe you more than an apology. I know not what would have happened to her if you had not been there with her."

"I am just glad I could help her," Faramir said softly.

Éomer glanced over at him; there was no doubting the sincerity in his eyes. Perhaps Éowyn did not choose so badly after all, he decided. "She is happy with you," he said, half to himself. "Happier than she has been for a long time." He fell silent for awhile, and Faramir let his gaze drift out over the rocky plains once more. Finally, Éomer said, "If you value your life, you should hire a cook. I love Éowyn, but I was not joking about her food preparation skills."

Faramir could not quite stifle his laugh, but he recognized what Éomer was trying to say. "Thank you," he replied.

"Of course, if you ever hurt her, I will still be forced to kill you," Éomer added with a small smile, grateful that Faramir understood.

"I will do my best to treat her with all the love and respect she deserves," Faramir said solemnly. Then he grinned. "Her cooking is not really that bad, is it?"

"The last time I ate her cooking, I could barely stand for the rest of the day without feeling like I was going to be ill," Éomer said with an exaggerated grimace.

Faramir laughed. "Perhaps I should just hire one of the hobbits to do it for her," he teased. "Of course, he would probably eat half of it before anyone else got a single bite."

"That reminds me," Éomer said, giving Faramir a sidelong glance as he sat down. "We still have some…unfinished business with two particular hobbits."

"Do you think so?" Faramir asked, sitting down beside him. "It seemed that Pippin, at least, was genuinely sorry when I spoke with him earlier this evening." He seemed like he would be more than happy to forget it had ever happened.

"'Tis a matter of honor, Faramir," Éomer retorted with a wicked grin. "We were wrongfully imprisoned, and I for one am not going to just let them get away with it. Besides, I am tired of being blackmailed."

"That is true...and I think Aragorn, at least, is starting to suspect something. I would like to put a stop to this before he figure it out," Faramir mused. "Do you have any ideas?"

Éomer thought about it for a moment. He did not want to risk injuring the hobbits, and what they had done had been more of a prank than anything else. So whatever vengeance they took would have to be relatively harmless…which eliminated most of the ideas that he had already had. "No," he finally said. "Except for perhaps swapping their ale with something else, but they heard us speak of that already. Do you?"

"I have not been able to think of anything yet," Faramir admitted. "But I think we can buy ourselves some time easily enough. It might actually work to our advantage."

"How?"

"Were Merry and Pippin constantly acting like they were up to something?" Faramir asked.

"Yes, and I thought they would drive me mad, since I could not…" Éomer trailed off as he realized what Faramir was getting at. "So, in other words, we act like we are plotting something?"

"If they think that we are planning some sort of awful revenge, it just might be enough to keep them on their best behavior. Enough to keep them silent about the whole matter, at any rate. Especially if Éowyn's around."

Éomer nodded his agreement. If Éowyn found out, she would never let either of them hear the end of it. Especially him, after that little incident in the Houses of Healing…"I see your point."

"Well, here is something I never expected to see on this journey," a voice interrupted. Both men jumped, then relaxed as they realized it was not either of the hobbits. "The King of Rohan and the Prince of Ithilien having a civilized conversation of their own free will?"

"Good evening, my lord," Faramir said as Aragorn sat down on his other side.

Éomer echoed his greeting, then asked, "What brings you out here?"

"I could not help noticing that you were both here, and I wanted to make sure that all was well," Aragorn said, a hint of concern in his voice.

Éomer and Faramir looked at each other, and Éomer nodded slightly. Faramir returned the nod, then replied, "Yes, I believe that everything is fine."

"Good!" Aragorn smiled. "I was beginning to think I would have to take drastic measures to make you talk this out."

Faramir and Éomer glanced at each other skeptically. "No, I do not think that would be necessary," Éomer said quickly.

Aragorn laughed. "I am glad to hear it." Then he added in a more serious tone, "I consider both of you to be my friends, as do many here. And I think it will be much better for everyone involved if you are getting along. I know that my mind is more at ease now."

Faramir looked slightly embarrassed now; Éomer felt much the same way. "It was not my intention to cause anyone else trouble," he said.

"Nor mine," Faramir echoed.

"I know. But I am still glad that you are speaking to one another now. And I think Éowyn will be too; I know that she cares deeply for both of you." Aragorn grinned now. "I think this calls for a celebration! Will you both join me for some ale?"

"Only if there is some food involved too," Éomer said, suddenly remembering he had not yet had supper that night.

"I would love to, but…" Faramir started.

"Do not be troubled, Faramir; we will find someone to cover the rest of your watch," Aragorn said, clapping him on the shoulder. Faramir's face colored slightly as he nodded his consent, and the three men stood up to head back to camp.

As they drew closer to the campfire, Faramir suddenly stopped. "Éomer, I do have one more question for you," he said softly. Éomer paused. Faramir grinned; he could not resist. The mischief in his blue-grey eyes was unmistakable as he asked, "What exactly are your intentions with my cousin?"

Éomer groaned, but could not help laughing as they walked the rest of the way to the camp. I suppose I deserve that, he thought wryly.

The evening meal had been finished for quite some time, apparently; the members of the company were sitting in small groups around the cookfire, talking. They all looked up in surprise to see the three men returning. Éomer wondered if it was just his imagination, or if Merry and Pippin looked slightly nervous to see him and Faramir together. Good, he thought. "Sam!" Aragorn called out. "Is there any of that meat left?"

"A little, Mister Aragorn, sir," Sam said. "And we've got some bread and cheese left too."

"Wonderful," Éomer said. He really was starting to feel quite hungry. Sam quickly loaded up a plate for him. "Thank you, Sam," Éomer said, smiling at the hobbit. Sam blushed a little, then nodded as Éomer sat down. "What about some of that ale?" he asked.

"I will get it," Faramir said innocuously. "Would anyone else like some? Merry? Pippin?"

The hobbits gave each other slightly panicked looks, then Merry quickly stammered, "N…no thank you." Pippin echoed him, while Éomer nearly choked on his food in an effort not to laugh. Sam and Frodo looked at each other and shrugged, while Aragorn and Imrahil exchanged confused glances. Faramir just grinned as he began filling the mugs. Yes, this could turn out to be quite amusing after all.