One evening after sharing dinner and conversation with his father, Faramir went out from the Citadel and made for the Merry Widow. He found himself wishing that Aragorn would join him, but he knew it was useless to even ask. The people would hardly let the King relax in a tavern. For the last couple weeks Faramir had been patronizing the 4th level establishment now and again, catching up with his old friends, though he was decidedly more cautious than he had been the first night when he inundated his sorrows rather imprudently.
As he was about to enter the tavern he saw the gate from the 3rd level open. He was sure that it was Queen Arwen who the guard knelt to and Faramir went to greet her. Rising from a bow, Faramir noticed what he thought was her escort approaching. When he saw clearer that it was actually his wife wearing a soldier's uniform he stared in incredulousness.
"Éowyn? What are you doing here?" His eyes widened when he realized that she must have been riding for the last week even though Aragorn had been strong in cautioning her against such activity. "What is this?" he asked as gently as he could through his disbelief.
Faramir offered to help her down but Éowyn refused his arm and his questions. Somewhere between Firien Wood and the Druadan she made up her mind that it wasn't pity she felt for him, but anger. Faramir sighed, realizing he would get no answers from her in the mood she was in. Instead he turned to Arwen who filled him as much as she felt it was her place to. Ever the peacemaker, Gondor's Queen suggested that they all get out of the street and in to the Citadel before going into discussions.
Attaining the 7th level and sending Arwen's mare to the stable the three entered. Neither Faramir nor Éowyn had spoken the whole while and once indoors, Faramir headed to his study and Éowyn followed stubbornly. Arwen knew her husband would be found in his study and she went there first.
Aragorn was not even aware of her presence, such is the silence in which Elves move, until Arwen wrapped her arms around her belovéd's shoulders. The small kiss to his temple prompted him to pull her into a deeper, fuller kiss and his he looked into her eyes, as ever, he was rendered wordless. Suddenly, if he just realized that he hadn't fallen asleep at his desk, he grew concerned and asked her how she had gotten to Minas Tirith.
"I walked, meleth," Arwen said understatedly.
"You... what? Why? What happened? Something is wrong, please tell me," Aragorn didn't let her get a word in edgeways through his alarm. He was entirely confused by Arwen's smile.
"There is nothing so terribly wrong," she said, her voice soothing to her husband. "Though i warn you, by tomorrow you will likely have an angry neighbor to host. Éowyn refused to remain in Edoras when Faramir left, and i journeyed with her. She knew it dangerous to ride, yet she would have walked this way utterly alone. Éomer would only have tried to make her stay, and for her that would be no healthier."
Aragorn sighed. "You are a selfless woman, Arwen," he said, her hand in his. "Maybe it won't be so bad anyway. They will likely make up now, Faramir has been doing a lot better emotionally now that he is back to work again. I guess they had a pretty bad fight, but Faramir hasn't mentioned any details. In truth, though, i am little concerned. He has been visiting the inn down on the 4th level a lot lately. One night two of his friends brought him back here unconscious. I suppose these things are to be expected though, and he is a strong enough man to hold his own." Aragorn was mostly talking to himself and Arwen knew this. She simply settled herself into his embrace and rested her head on his shoulder.
ooo
Things were not so gentle in the Steward's study. For a while Éowyn simply glared daggers at Faramir, until finally he decided to break the tedious silence. "Why did you come here, Éowyn?" he said quietly.
"I came because i do not give up and run away from problems," she said definitively.
Faramir opened his mouth to protest, but then he remembered something Denethor said to him about abandoning Osgiliath when the forces of Mordor pressed in on them. At the time Faramir knew that he had no choice but to retreat to save the lives of his men; even if they stayed and fought the invaders it would only end up in a slaughter and Faramir knew that this war was going to demand every man that could hold a weapon. Now Faramir wondered, maybe he had given up too easily.
He wanted to argue with Éowyn that he never ran from his problems, that he faced all that life threw his way bravely and without hostility. He remained silent though, and as much as he hated it, he knew he was just shutting off his emotions as he used to. 'Why,' he asked himself, 'do the people i love always scorn me?' He guessed that the hurt feeling he experienced at her words meant that he really did have feelings for her.
Faramir's silence was extremely maddening to Éowyn. She felt that when men refused to talk to her it was because they thought women too weak of mind to be reasoned with. "Speak to me, Faramir! You at least owe me an explanation as to why you ran from me the day after our wedding feast!"
Since arriving home he had been at peace and not doubting himself, but now his own wife had him in the same position that the man who he thought was his father often did. Faramir broke his silence then, frustration with everything becoming too much for him. "Explanation? You mean to tell me that you did not realize that i left because i would not stay in a place where i am not trusted even to take a night's rest under the stars? Furthermore, why should i choose to remain with someone so lacking in courtesy to the dead?"
Éowyn laughed joylessly in total disbelief. "You can not mean that you left with such righteous anger over mere words!"
There was one thing that Faramir knew for certain, all that he had ever been comfortable with and all that had ever truly hurt always had to do with words rather than weapons. From the tales his mother used to tell him to the irrational order of Denethor's last words to him, from books he'd read, to poems he'd composed, to music he'd studied (notes being their own manner of "words"), words had incredible impact on Faramir's life.
"Yes, words. Though they were not 'mere' in any sense. You do not know how words can cut a man. You think that you can only do injury while wielding your sword, but you are wrong, Éowyn. Just as you keep your sword sheathed when you are not among enemies, so should you keep your words." Faramir realized fully that he was putting things in martial metaphors all too easily, for it was one of the only ways he knew to communicate sensitive matters to his big brother.
It was now Éowyn's turn to become rather quiet, though steely resolve still reflected in her eyes. When she became aware of the pressure at her back she was seated, though it annoyed her all the more that she should show such a thing that she perceived as weakness.
Faramir sighed and went to the window, silently praying that an Eagle would come down from on high and take him somewhere far away. Realizing that Eagles never intervened until all hope was lost, Faramir turned and regarded Eowyn. He noticed that she was beginning to show her condition and that pain was a steady undercurrent beneath her prideful veneer.
"Why did we marry, Éowyn? We can not even talk to one another. I had thought that even if love was to be ill-fated between two people so different, perhaps we might yet have companionship in one another. Did you only accept me out of the need of your situation?" The questions that really burned in his mind he did not ask aloud, but they assaulted him nonetheless: 'Am i what you settled for, instead of my father? Am i just second best, as every other time?' Why, Faramir wondered, did the Valar hate him so?
ooo
meleth = love, dear
