Btw... Thanks for pointing that out, Lady of the Dog Star. I must admit, I thought of the horses myself, but I decided (and maybe it was a wrong descision) that I could just ignore that, as it would ruin the lovely plot I'd worked out. But ah well, what's done is done!
And now, without further ado...
It was all Èowyn could do not to break down in sobs right then and there, but she forced herself to remain level headed. She pulled both horses further into the bracken, stumbling a little over the rough ground, and tied them to a strong tree.
"You're going to have to help me, precious," she whispered to Laurëa, who snorted and began to ease herself to the ground. As she did so, Faramir began to slide off and Èowyn caught him with an "oof" of discomfort. The sick man was wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness, but he managed to stand with the help of Èowyn and walk to the spot under the trees where she had spread their cloaks.
"Now lie here," Èowyn murmured as Faramir collapsed onto the ground. "I'll just be a minute."
" Èowyn!" Faramir caught her arm as she turned back to the horses. Immediately Èowyn knelt beside him.
"What is it?" she asked.
Faramir focused on her face with an effort. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm such a burden."
Èowyn shook her head. "You forget, my love, that 'twas I who injured you! You just lie still, and everything will be alright."
Faramir was pacified, but Èowyn found that for some reason, she did not believe her own words. The rain was getting harder, and already she was soaked through. She stopped a minute and thought about a fire. There's hardly a chance of getting one started in this tempest, she thought sadly, And even if by some miracle I did...it would only be a danger. So she merely took the saddles off of the horses and patted them one last time before slipping under the cloaks next to her husband.
Apparently they weren't doing much, as he was drenched too. Èowyn put her arms around him and drew him close to her in an attempt to keep him warm.
It did no good.
All night the wind howled about them, the rain blew against them, and Faramir shivered uncontrollably. Èowyn herself was a bit cold, but she would not---could not---allow herself to give into her own feelings. She pulled the cloak over their heads, keeping their faces dry at the least. She whispered sweet words in his ear when the fever got terrible, sang softly when he trembled too badly, and prayed when the storm got so loud she couldn't even hear herself think. And eventually, close to two o' clock in the morning, as the rain began to let up and the dew settle, Èowyn fell asleep listening to her husband's rough breathing.
The first thing Èowyn knew when she awoke was that she was soaking wet and very uncomfortable. The second thing she knew was that she was NOT in Emyn Arnen, she was lying on the ground in a glade. But the third thing she knew was by far the worst. This was that her husband was gasping violently for breath.
In a flash, Èowyn was sitting up and flinging the drenched cloak off of the two of them. One look at Faramir was enough to send ripples of fear down her spine and she immediately put an arm around his shoulders and half helped, half forced him to sit up.
His lips were blue, his face was sheet white, and his eyes were bloodshot and huge. Sweat sparkled on his brow in the early morning light, and he clutched feebly at her hands, trying to bring air into his lungs. Èowyn began rubbing his back, massaging his throat and anything else that she could think of to help him draw air into his body.
Eventually, he quieted a bit. Sitting seemed to help, and his gasps gave way to wheezing. Then the shivers took over again. Èowyn couldn't stop the tears now, and she pulled Faramir to her breast and cradled him against her, trying with all her might to transfer some of the heat from her body to his. She rocked slowly and began to weep.
"Eru!" she meant to shout, but it only came out in a defeated low voice. "Why are you doing this? What did we do?? What did he do? If either of us should be suffering so much, why isn't it me???" Then she bowed her head and let the sobs wrack her body.
It may have been an hour, but it was probably closer to thirty minutes that Èowyn sat with her husband cradled in her arms. What thoughts ran through her over-taxed brain are only to be imagined, but at the end of that time Èowyn slowly looked up.
Silivren was watching her intently, pity (if pity can be found in a horses gaze) shining forth. Èowyn sniffed and wrapped her arms tighter around her husband's limp form.
"Well, Silivren, what do you think?" she asked. Something inside of Èowyn would not give up. Here she was, in the middle of the wilderness with a terribly sick man. By rights she should be despairing. But that was not part of Èowyn's nature. All of her upbringing she had been taught to fight, and fighting was what she was best at. "When the going gets tough..." Èowyn trailed off and bowed her head.
The tough get going.
But what could she do? It was just a saying, a stupid verse someone had come up with to make them feel better. Nothing could help her now. There was no way Faramir was getting on top of a horse again, and there was no one around for miles.
She was stuck, and stuck for good.
"What was it Eomer taught me?" she mused, kissing the top of Faramir's head. "There was a song, long ago. He taught it to me when our parents died. How did it go..."
Starless night will cover day
In the veiling of the sun
We will walk in bitter rain
But in dreams
I still hear your name
And in dreams
We will meet again
When the seas and mountains fall
And we come, to end of days
In the dark I hear a call
Calling me there
I will go there
And back again
"Back again," Èowyn repeated, closing her eyes. Only I can't go back. If I could, oh, I would!!
"Excuse me?"
Èowyn jerked so much at the sudden voice that Faramir gave a low moan. Èowyn's eyes flashed open and she stared straight at...a little girl.
She was an attractive thing, dressed all in white with dark hair and a wide smile. She smiled shyly at Èowyn, gripping a basket full of berries in both hands. Èowyn began to feel a bit dizzy, but she would not allow herself to be weak now.
"Who...who are you?" she asked faintly.
"My name is Nympha," the girl said in a high voice, reminiscent of something Èowyn could not place.
"You...where did you come from?" Èowyn questioned, gaining some courage and wits again. "Why are you out here?"
Nympha cocked her head. "I live down the hill. Mum said berries were sweetest when picked early in the morning, and does he always look like that? He's shaking."
Èowyn could have wept for joy, but she stilled the bubbles inside with a colossal effort. Calm, she thought resolutely, Calm. I must stay calm.
"No," she said gently, "You see Nympha, he is very sick. We've been out here all night. He was wounded," she swallowed as she said the word, "yesterday, and he lost a lot of blood. Then when we stayed out all night---"
"In the storm?!" Nympha cut in, dropping her basket and coming closer. "I'm so sorry! If my adar had known, he and Halla---"
"Who's Halla?" Èowyn wanted to know.
"My older brother. He's almost twenty-two now." Nympha reached out a gentle hand and touched Faramir's brow. "He's so nice looking," she murmured.
Èowyn took a deep breath. "Nympha," she began, "do you think you could help us?"
The little girl nodded solemnly.
"My husband needs help, fast, if he is going to live. Can we come to your house?" Èowyn asked.
"Of course! I'll run and get Adar and Halla now, and they can carry him. And," she paused and looked at the horses. "We'll take care of them too."
Èowyn breathed a long sigh of relief. "Thank you. And please hurry!"
Nympha ran down the hill and out of sight, her small legs going as fast as possible. Èowyn bent her mouth to Faramir's ear.
"Don't worry, my love. You'll be cared for now, never fear." She herself was beginning to feel light headed, but once again, she pushed her emotions and feeling away for later. The task at hand was to get Faramir safely to a place where they would care for him.
It was only (at the most) five minutes before Nympha returned with two men that Èowyn could only assume were her father and brother. As they approached, the younger of the two breathed, "Great edhel, she spoke the truth!"
The older one dropped to one knee beside Èowyn and said gently, "My name is Nereus, and we're going to help you. May we carry him?"
Èowyn smiled royally and nodded. Something told her they hadn't the slightest idea who she or Faramir was (their clothes were long past giving any clue) and that was just the way she wanted it to stay. "Please," she said, "Be gentle with him."
"Of course," Halla replied. Slowly and cautiously, he took Faramir's shoulders and head while Nereus lifted his legs. They rose in one motion, supporting him easily. Nereus looked back at her as they stood.
"We'll come back for you, if you like miss," he said. Èowyn stood (a little precariously) and shook her head.
"There is no need, I am perfectly fine. I'll bring the horses."
They set out, and Èowyn had never felt as if anything had ever taken longer. Her husband was safe in the men's arms and the horses were safe with her and Nympha, but every step seemed agony to her weary mind and heart. It seemed like an eternity (but was really only a few minutes) until they came in sight of a well built little cottage surrounded by trees. Èowyn at once noticed how protected and safe it looked. Anything built in Ithilien would have to be. All was not safe here, not by far.
Nereus and Halla bore Faramir into the yard and through the door, and Nympha led Èowyn to the stable on the side of the house, where the little girl took Silivren's reigns.
"I'll take care of her, don't worry," the child smiled. "Mum will want to speak with you."
To tell the truth, Èowyn did not relish the idea of grooming and feeding her horses at the moment, so she was only too glad to let the little girl take them. She made her way out of the stable again and up the small path to the house.
As soon as she stepped through the door, Èowyn felt relief wash over her. It was surprisingly large for a cottage, with at least two rooms on the ground level and a loft up above. She paused for an instant and looked around, and the next second a middle aged but still good looking woman swept in. She had dark hair like her daughter and happy brown eyes.
"Oh! You must be the wife, bless your heart," she said. Èowyn had not expected such a refined voice to come from the woman, but her voice reminded her somewhat of bells. "I'm sure you've had a terrible time of it. To think of staying out all night in the storm!" In an instant she had her arms around Èowyn and was hugging her. "But don't worry dear. He's going to be just fine. A little rest and care, and he'll be well again."
Èowyn nodded weakly. The suddenness of being unburdened was too much for her, and she could feel all of the stress and fear of the previous day and night slipping onto her shoulders. The room began to reel, and she heard herself vaguely say, "I'm sorry."
Then it all went black.
A/N: NOW REVIEW!!