Faramir picked a book out of the stack and glanced around for his wife. When she did not appear, he settled down amid the rest of the books with a mischievous smile and began reading.
Ever since Faramir could read, he had loved it more than anything. The world he found in books drew him in and held him close like a dear friend. It didn't matter whether it was a history book, an ancient ballad, or a book on sword making; he loved them all. Often they were the only thing in which he found comfort, back in the dark days with his father. It never seemed to matter that he would be in trouble when he was found, if only he could escape in the world of books for a few precious hours.
In the Houses of Healing, too, books were the main source of comfort. As his body had healed, he had found that his mind, too had needed healing, and in books he had found the most comfort.
Of course, it was not until he met Eowyn that his HEART had been healed. The ironic thing about Eowyn, he often reflected, was that a few weeks earlier he would never have dreamed of marrying and being happy. The emotional low he had experienced on that day---that fateful day when he was wounded---was such that he truly wished to be killed. The whole day seemed to be covered in a gray mist, and Faramir wasn't sure whether that was because he was over-tired or because of the Black Breath he had endured. Probably both.
In any case, his love of books had lasted throughout his entire life. His wife, he found, was not overly fond of books, and while that did not bother him in the least, his own love of the objects wasn't stinted. He tried not to read around her and do things that she enjoyed, but when he was alone, well...
Two hours later found Faramir still sitting in the same position, completely wrapped up in the book of Gondorian myths he had found. He did not even notice when Eowyn crept into the room and smiled a quiet smile to herself.
As she gazed at her husband, she allowed herself to think about the first time they had met. She had been impatient, condescending. She had expected to be led to some pompous fool just like the Warden of the Houses of Healing who would pat her on the head and tell her to go back to bed like a good little girl. But instead she had been led to him. He had been lean, sallow and tired looking. Dark circles under his eyes showed the lack of sleep, and something in his gaze told her that this man had suffered every bit as much grief as she had. But even the weariness and overburdened look of the young man had not dampened his good looks and proud lift of face. Something deep inside of her had whispered that here was a man with a spirit that would not break. Indeed, it had been bent to the utter limits, and was still in danger of collapsing, but she knew that it would not break. And something even deeper inside of her, something that she did not hear for a long, long time, told her that she would marry this man.
But she had also been tested to the breaking point, and she was bitter towards all mankind. And so instead of listening and following this advice, she had turned the other way. Why, she had practically alienated him from her! It scared her how close she had come to losing him and all of the joy she had found since. It was only the insight and perseverance of him who she loved that made her realize what she was throwing away.
Eowyn shook herself and took her eyes off her husband's face, which was reading intently. Every so often he would turn a page, but other than that there was no sound in the small room. With another smile, Eowyn reached down and picked up a book. The sudden sound made Faramir look up, and he grinned a little sheepishly.
"Did you think I would not find you, Faramir?" Eowyn asked good-naturedly.
"Nay, I had no hope of that," he smiled. With one last look at the book, he laid it down and stretched his arms. "I am sorry for sneaking off, Wyn. I just wanted to read for a few hours."
"Of course, my love. Why should you not?" Eowyn sat down next to him and he put his arm around her. "Faramir?"
"Yes?"
"Do you sometimes wish you had married a more studious wife?" she asked timidly.
"Never," he murmured. "Just because I love literature does not mean I do not love you!"
"Well, they say opposites attract," she smiled. There was a small pause in which his hand found hers and they sat in peace. "I was...thinking," Eowyn went on.
"Yes?" he asked absently.
"About the past. About the first day I saw you," she said softly. "How thin and tired looking you were."
Faramir laid his head on top of hers. "Those were dark days. I still remember how I felt, after I was wounded. But I was destined to have a glimmer of light in my life."
"And I too," Eowyn smiled. "'Twas only you, Faramir, who brought me back from the dark. Aragorn healed me physically, but only one man could capture my heart and rescue me from the shadow."
Faramir planted a light kiss on her cheek, and then they sat in silence for a little while longer. Eowyn trailed a finger over his sleeve, looking intently at it, then up at her husband's still face.
"Faramir?" she asked.
"Mmm?" he answered, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She reached up and took his hand, looking deep into his eyes. He immediately stopped and looked serious.
"I ask you this because I am your wife, and I love you. I care for you, Faramir," Eowyn began.
"What is it, Eowyn?" Faramir asked, his eyes clouding. "Tell me."
Eowyn took a deep breath. "Why do you still wear black?"
Faramir caught his breath and drew his hand back from Eowyn's own hand, but she caught it and pressed it to her heart. "Forgive me, I mean no harm. But I am your wife, and if there is something troubling you, I---"
Faramir held a hand up to Eowyn's lips to stop her from speaking further. He smiled weakly and said in a whisper, "You caught me off guard, my love. I am not hurt." He paused and began massaging Eowyn's hand in his own. "The truth is, I have not thought much about it. It is natural for me to wear black. I suppose it has been ingrained in me. When my father was alive, I was expected to wear black to all social functions, and I normally wore it anyway. I assumed it suited me, and my life, best."
"But not anymore!" Eowyn insisted. "We have been married for nigh on two years!"
Faramir nodded slowly. "Aye, perhaps it is time for me to change. But, please, allow me to do it in my own time."
Eowyn smiled. "My love, I could care less what you wear. I only wish you to be happy."
Faramir sighed and drew her close once more. "I love you, Eowyn."
"And I love you, my strong man," Eowyn whispered. Suddenly, she sat upright and a sparkle entered her eyes again. "Faramir! I've just remembered something!"
Faramir laughed. "What is it, oh vivacious one?" he asked.
Eowyn ignored him, and the mood continued to lighten. "'Twas a week ago tomorrow that you promised me you would duel me!"
Faramir sighed in mock exasperation. "Ah, will you never forget?"
"Never," she smiled, leaning in until their noses touched. "Tomorrow you will duel me. And don't forget!"
"Alright, alright. We shall take our swords for a ride and find some secluded place to fight where no one can watch us," Faramir laughed. "Will that suit?"
Eowyn wrinkled her nose. "Well, I suppose. Though I should enjoy beating you with an audience, I will allow you to have your peace."
Faramir grinned and caught her as she began toward the doorway. "Stop it, you indecent man!" she growled, fighting to get out of his arms.
"Of all the things I have been called," Faramir said as he wrestled her to the ground and bent in for a kiss, "I do not ever recall being named as such." And he kissed her.
"Well!" she said breathlessly, smiling up at him. "To all those who think you a gentle and reserved man...they have never felt your kiss upon them!"
Faramir laughed and helped her up. "Did I ruffle a few feathers, my lady love?" he asked.
"Never," she grinned. "Never ever ever."