Èowyn awoke to a feeling of warmth and comfort. She was lying on something extremely soft and fluffy, and something even softer was spread over her. She kept her eyes shut, relishing the coziness of it. Must I awake? she asked herself languidly.
Then she remembered.
Èowyn sat straight up in bed, her eyes snapping open and searching frantically for her husband. Where was he? How long had she been asleep?
"You don't have to worry," a deep voice said with a chuckle in it. "Your husband is doing well."
Èowyn glanced to her left and saw the young man named Halla sitting on a stool whittling. He smiled at her and laid down his knife. "You've been asleep for almost twenty-four hours, in case you wanted to know, and it's now around eight o' clock in the morning."
Èowyn felt herself beginning to blush. She looked down and realized that she wasn't wearing her own clothes anymore, but a soft nightdress made of cotton. No doubt her own clothes had gone to the fire long since. She put a hand to her forehead and asked, "What happened?"
"I'll tell you what happened," came a bell-like voice from the doorway, and the next moment the woman came sweeping in. "You over-exerted yourself trying to get your husband to safety, and when you realized you didn't have that responsibility anymore you passed out. And I'm right glad you did, because I'm not sure you would have agreed to leave his side otherwise." She leaned over and hugged Èowyn. "My name is Loomi."
Èowyn thought for a moment. "Cloud? What a lovely name!"
Loomi nodded. "Aye, it means cloud alright. But please, tell me your names!"
Èowyn bit her lip. Should she take a chance that they would know who they were? She honestly didn't want them to feel obliged to take them in just because they were the Prince and Princess of Ithilien. "My name is Èowyn," she finally said, "And my husband's name is Faramir."
Loomi smiled. "What lovely names! Almost seem like they're from a book, don't they Halla?"
Halla was squinting at Èowyn, but he nodded none-the-less. "Yes, right nice names."
Èowyn stuck her feet out of the bed. "Please, may I have my clothes back?"
Loomi laughed, and the bells rang all the sweeter. "Child, I burned those this morning. But I think I can find you something better to wear!" She turned to Halla. "Aut tulta i wen vaima, Halla," (Go find the maiden a gown, Halla) she spoke swiftly. "Asc!" (Hurry!)
Halla jumped up and hurried away. Loomi turned and sat on the bed. She studied Èowyn for a time (which was none too comfortable) and finally said, "May I ask you a few personal questions?"
Èowyn blinked and nodded slowly. "If I may have the liberty of answering them only if I so chose."
Loomi grinned and agreed. Then she reached over and took Èowyn's hand. "First," she started, "They're more about your husband, not you."
Èowyn immediately clammed up. She knew now where this was going. Unfortunately she had never had this happen before, and she wasn't quite sure how much to say. Help me to know, Eru, she prayed swiftly.
"Yesterday we did all we could for him," Loomi went on, "and we had to bring his fever down. So..." she looked Èowyn straight in the eye. "What I'm trying to ask, Èowyn, is why your husband bears the markings of the whip all over his back and shoulders."
Èowyn sighed and bowed her head. It was out now, and there was no going back. But Loomi wasn't done.
"Also," she said, "he kept crying out in his delirium. It near broke my heart to hear him speak too. He kept saying things about fire and mercy. And one word he kept repeating over and over. Adar. I know elvish, you must know that Èowyn, so I understand that word. Please...I don't mean to pry, but---"
"Well you're certainly doing a good job of it!" Èowyn snapped. Then she sighed again. "Faramir was abused as a child, Loomi. He was beaten, with a whip, yes, and was emotionally tortured from the age of five onward. Eventually things got so bad that...right before I met him, which was in Gondor in the Houses of Healing, his adar tried to burn him. He had been wounded in the great battle and was unconscious at the time. I don't even know why I'm telling you all this."
Loomi stared at her wide eyed. "I had no idea," she whispered. "Gorga hin," (Poor child)
Èowyn nodded. "Anything else?"
Loomi leaned back and looked out the window. "I don't suppose you want to tell me why you were out in the tempest last night, and why he's wounded? Trust me," she hastened on, "You needn't tell me if you don't wish to. I merely thought you might want me to know, seeing as you're going to be staying for a while."
Èowyn hesitated. "Might we...might we leave that for later?" she asked finally. Loomi nodded and stood up.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry for prying, but it's not every day that---"
"I'm sure," Èowyn admitted. "I want to thank you so much for helping us. If we hadn't been found by Nympha I really do not like to think about what might have happened to my husband."
At that moment, Halla opened the door and came in. In his hands he held a deep burgundy colored dress and a pair of leather shoes, which he set on the bed. "There you go, miss," he smiled.
Loomi touched the collar and looked up at Èowyn. "It's just your color, my dear. And please, feel free to use any of the brushes and combs you find around here."
"Atara, i laiwa atani maure le," (Mother, the ill man needs you) Halla said quietly.
"Why?" Èowyn immediately asked. She stood and began pushing toward the door.
"It's---it's nothing," Halla said, "but he needs more herbs and my mother is the only one who knows which."
"Please, dress yourself and make yourself pretty again," Loomi smiled. "I'll only be a minute." Then she and Halla left.
Èowyn picked up the dress and looked at it. It really wasn't half bad. It was burgundy, with a white strip of cloth at the top which folded down into a collar. Èowyn slipped it over her head and smiled. It fit like a glove and flattered her figure. Then she slipped the shoes on and sighed. They too fit well and where of comfortable leather which had been broken in.
Èowyn turned to the wall where there was a small dressing table and picked up a brush. As she brushed her long hair out, she thought, Thank Eru for these people! Faramir will be well soon and then we'll be on our way home. It suddenly struck her how much she missed her child, and she wondered how the servants and courtiers at home would deal with having the Prince and Princess missing. Not well.
Suddenly, just as Èowyn had finished tying her hair back with a leather cord she heard raised voices from outside. One was definitely Loomi's---another one of the males in the family. But the third...it was shrill and broken, like the voice of a sick man.
Èowyn dashed to the door, knocking a comb and three pieces of jewelry off of the table in her haste. She flung it open and ran into the big room outside. Glancing around, she noticed a door at the far end of the room. That must be where they are, she thought. Then she hurried over to it and opened the door.
She froze.
Loomi and Halla were in the small room, trying desperately to still Faramir's thrashing. Halla had his hands on Faramir, trying to keep him from harming himself, and Loomi was feverishly dabbing the sick man with a towel. Èowyn's heart gave a queer twist and she felt her hands grow cold. Faramir looked even worse than when they were in the woods. His eyes---his beautiful sea-green eyes---were standing out in his face dramatically, and his lips were dry and cracked. Involuntarily, Èowyn gave a small cry.
At once Halla and Loomi looked up, panic lighting up their features. Loomi jumped up and began pulling Èowyn away.
"There's naught that you can do here, Èowyn!" she panted. "Come away, please! You'll only---"
"Leave me be!" Èowyn shrieked. She jerked her arm roughly away from Loomi and walked determinedly toward the bed. She took a deep breath and desperately tried to organize her jumbled thoughts before reaching out.
"Ada! Ada, PLEASE! Boromir, Amme, ÈOWYN!" Faramir called out hoarsely. He reached a hand out as if pleading.
Èowyn struggled to keep from sobbing as she gently put her hand on Faramir's face. "Melanin," (My love) she whispered, putting her face next to his own hot one. "Inye sinome, inye sinome." (I am here, I am here.)
Almost at once, Faramir calmed, bringing his shaking hand down to where Èowyn could clasp it in her own. "Le tulka," (You are strong) she went on. "Le palpa sina rauko laiwa." (You will defeat this awful sickness.) She reached for the wet towel and began dabbing it on his face and chest.
Loomi stood in the doorway, leaning on it for support. She had never seen anything like that before, and she found herself thinking that if a man could be calmed by the simple touch and voice of his wife, he must surely be in love with her beyond the comprehension of most mortals. She watched as Èowyn began to sing gently,
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end
Sleep now
Dream---of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore
Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping
What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass...
Suddenly, Èowyn stopped singing and gasped. I am singing about death! she thought. "No!" she said out loud, then looked at Halla and Loomi. "He isn't going to die. I won't let him."
Halla thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before. The pale and fevered man, the beautiful and determined wife. And for a minute he believed that Faramir could never die, not with Èowyn there to save him. But then he shook his head and drew and hand through his hair.
"The fever must come down," he said wearily. "We've tried everything, but it's eating his resistance away. By this time tomorrow he'll have no strength left in his body."
Èowyn raised her head. "Everything?" she asked. Then she shook her head and smiled at him. "No, not yet." She closed her beautiful blue eyes and bowed her golden head over her husband's hand. In a moment her voice filled the room.
"Eru," she prayed, "You made everything there is in this world, and everything must eventually die and return to their maker. But Eru, I beg you not to take my husband away from me. Not yet! We have only just found each other, such a short time ago. I cannot understand why you would take him away from this world. After all of the trials he has endured, all of the danger he has triumphed over, would you take him now? It was..." she swallowed and continued, "a mistake, Eru. It was an accident. How can it have resulted in this? Forgive me for my foolishness, Eru. But please, don't take my husband from me! Maybe...maybe I'm being selfish. I know Faramir will be with you if he dies, and never know suffering again. But...you created him, and you created me. You created the love which binds us together now. I know you have the power to heal him. Please, please save him." Her voice quivered, and then she whispered, "Amen."
The room was deadly silent as Èowyn raised her head and looked around. Halla and Loomi were staring at her.
"Do you believe he will save him: Eru?" Loomi finally asked.
Èowyn shook her head. "I don't know. But I trust that whatever happens will be for His plan, and His plan is the best." She stood, leaning a little on the bed. "He is resting rather well at the moment. Please, do you think I could have a little food?" It had just hit Èowyn that she had not eaten since the afternoon of two days ago, and her stomach felt as if someone had punched it, hard.
Loomi sprang up. "Of course! Oh, how stupid of me! You must be absolutely famished!" With that, she led Èowyn out to the big room to give her food.
As Èowyn left the room, she glanced over her shoulder at the form of her husband...her Faramir lying on the bed with his eyes shut. She didn't know if he was going to live or not, but she could hope. Oh, and she would hope.