A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews! They all mean a lot to me!
It was a long night as it rained unceasingly until dawn. The temperature had plummeted, and it crossed my mind that it truly might snow before we reached Ethring as I pulled my heavy cloak tighter around my shoulders. I was glad, however, that Éowyn had found some comfort and rested well as I sat beside her, keeping myself alert as I had during all of the long watches I had kept when I lived in Henneth Annûn, by thinking songs in my head, silently keeping the beat with my feet. Silly, I know, but it works.
When the dawn at last made its appearance, I shook Éowyn awake, silently offering her an apple to break her fast. She took it as she sat up, searching my eyes. "We shall continue on after you have finished eating, my love," I told her. Then I answered her unspoken question. "There was no sign of anyone last night which is expected since the weather was not very conducive to travel."
"Nay, I suppose not."
I emerged into the chill, damp air, the rain having left-off shortly before dawn. I moved to the horses, checking their feet for embedded stones while I awaited Éowyn. She emerged quite soon with our bedroll under her arm, and I collapsed and packed away the wet tent as quickly as I could, noticing that Éowyn was keeping a close watch upon the road. When all was secure, we mounted and continued on toward the River Ringló.
The farther north that we went, the colder and windier it became and the fewer people we met upon the road. By the time we thought to stop to make camp beside the road that evening, there was a fine, powdery snow falling from the sky, and we were both miserable with cold. "Can you go further, Éowyn?" I asked her, noting her rosy cheeks.
"Aye, husband, if you can."
"I am well enough," I told her, though I was dozing in the saddle between bouts of shivering. We continued northward toward Ethring, and the weather steadily deteriorated, the snowfall increasing as did the wind. Soon, unable to see aught but blowing snow, I gave Simbelmynë his head, hoping that my stallion might be able to lead us to safety through the blizzard. Windfola followed of his own volition. It was not long before Éowyn complained that her feet were going numb. I dared not stop, so instead, I moved from Simbelmynë's back to Windfola's behind Éowyn, wrapping myself around her, hoping to keep the brunt of the wind away from her.
"How much farther do you think it is?" she asked, her words nearly blown away by the howling wind.
"I cannot say, for the horses' pace is much slower than it might have been had we not encountered this storm. But certainly we should arrive in Ethring by daylight, love."
"How fare you, Faramir?"
"I am well enough." I know that she was faring better than I was in truth, since she had slept for a while, and she was used to the harsh winters upon the plains of Rohan, whereas I was almost always hidden in a sheltered spot within the trees during the coldest months in Gondor. And rarely did it snow in Ithilien. But it was my responsibility to protect my wife, and so I did my best. It was not until I caught myself dozing again that I began to worry about myself. But then, as if she knew of my difficulty, my wife reached back, cupping my frozen face with her hand from which she had removed her glove. The relative warmth of her fingers was almost painful upon my cheek.
"You must not rest now, husband. Stay awake until we reach Ethring, and I promise that I shall see that you are well-tended when we arrive. Can you stay alert, my love?"
"I can but try, Éowyn."
"There was a time when Éomer and I were lost in a great snow when we were but children. It was horribly cold then as well, and so to stay awake, we sang. I would hear you sing to me, Faramir."
It was not how I would have wished to serenade my bride, but it was a sound idea, and so I sang to her the Song of Gondor and the Song of Lebennin both, repeating them one after the other, unable to think of any other songs with my cold-fuddled brain. And then my dear wife joined me in song as well. I paused once between songs to speak the words that I needed to say to her.
"I love you, Éowyn."
It was not yet dawn when Windfola came to a standstill. I prayed that he had not given up to the cold. Assuring Faramir that I would be fine, I dismounted and, keeping hold of the reins, I trudged forward, leading my stallion, discovering that he had brought us to a wooden gate that was barred from inside.
"Hello!" I cried as I pounded upon the gate. "We need help here!" I prayed that someone had heard me as I turned back toward Faramir, finding him slumped over my stallion's withers, exhaustion and cold finally taking him. Turning back to the gate, I continued to shout and pound upon the wood until at last I heard a sound from within, followed by the opening of the gate.
A stout watchman allowed us inside along with our three horses, though he scolded me for being out in such foul weather. I had no time nor the inclination to endure his pointless rebukes as I interrupted him to ask if there was an inn nearby. He pointed the way, continuing his endless grumbling, and I led the horses toward the inn, hoping that there would be room inside for me and my husband.
But the door of the inn was locked, and I saw no light coming from inside. The horses required shelter as well, so I led them into the dimly-lit stable next door finding three empty stalls for them, grateful that the straw within was clean, dry, and deep. There was no time to tend the horses properly, so I quickly removed Simbelmynë's furniture, hanging it upon the stall door, and Seregon's pack, allowing it to fall into the straw.
Faramir was a different matter altogether. He stirred when I spoke his name, but before he became fully alert, he slipped from the saddle, landing heavily in the straw. "Éowyn?" he asked muzzily.
"Sleep, my love, I shall be along shortly." He needed no other encouragement as he sank into deep rest, turning onto his side and curling up beneath his snow-caked cloak in the bedding. When Windfola was free of his tack, I knelt down in the straw next to my husband, brushing the snow from his clothing and hair as best as I could before I lay down and wrapped my arms around him, intent on warming us both. As an afterthought, I spoke a soft command to my stallion, and Windfola knelt in the bedding on the other side of Faramir. The coziness of the stall induced a strong urge to sleep in me as well, and I surrendered to it.
"Hey, now! What are you doing there?!" The stableman's voice woke me immediately, and I sat up quickly, bidding him to be quiet as Faramir stirred beside me.
"We were sleeping until you came along, sir." I spoke further before he could say anything else. "Fear not, we shall pay for the straw we mashed and the three stalls for our horses, I assure you. Now, if it is not too much trouble, could you fetch us something hot to fill our bellies?"
The man looked a bit surprised to be given orders by a disheveled woman dressed in man's clothing, sleeping in a stable beside a semiconscious man who was curled next to a large grey warhorse, but he nodded and departed quickly.
"Who was that?" questioned Faramir, his sleepy grey eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I am not completely certain, my husband. How fare you?"
"Much better, Éowyn." He sat up, looking about. I thought that he might mention something about finding himself bedded down in a stable, but instead he asked, "We are in Ethring, I assume?"
"I had not thought to ask in truth, though I also assume that we are." I caressed his stubbled cheek, noting the lines of exhaustion around his eyes. It could not have been much before dawn when we had arrived, so he could not have gotten more than a couple hours of sleep. "When that man returns with our breakfast, I shall see about acquiring a proper room for us with a roaring fire where you might take your ease for the day, Faramir. I am certain that the weather is much too foul for us to continue on to Dol Amroth today anyway." Rising, I commanded Windfola to rise as well, and after finding a brush, I began to smooth his coat, praising him for bringing us to safety and warming his master afterward.
When the stableman returned with two steaming bowls of porridge swimming with lots of honey and butter on top, Faramir rose and thanked him, handing the man a gold coin for his trouble as he took the bowls from the man.
"Sir," I said, "might there be any rooms available at the inn?"
"Yes," he answered, flummoxed by the two people before him. "I own the inn."
"Ah, good, the proprietor. Are your rooms clean, sir?"
He nodded, glancing down again at the coin in his hand. "My wife works hard to keep everything spotless," he assured us.
"Then we would like a room for all of today and tonight with a large, comfortable bed and a roaring fire. My lord husband requires absolute quiet so that he might rest until we can proceed on our journey. Is that possible?"
"Yes, my lady, I shall prepare your room myself." He bowed quickly, though I know he had no idea of whom we were and nearly ran from the stable to see to our room.
"I could grow quite accustomed to this treatment, my lady," said Faramir, stirring his porridge a bit before he carefully ate a spoonful of the steaming mixture.
"I hope that you shall, my lord. It is a wife's duty to see her husband treated well after all."
"Is it only duty that motivates you, Éowyn?" he asked me teasingly.
I whispered without actually looking at him, as I, too, began to eat my porridge, "Wait until we are behind closed doors, my husband. I shall perform duties for you that you never even imagined."
I laughed as the spoon actually fell from his hand as his imagination ran away with him. I was so glad to see him well, if not a little preoccupied.