Aragorn wept of joy. It took all he had to fight back the temptation to grasp Faramir in a tight hug that would have been liable to have forced the life out of him. Instead he settled for a tear-stained but beaming smile and grasping his hand all the tighter.

"Ion-nín, im nev," he whispered in response to Faramir's questioning. "Faramir...." Aragorn laid a gentle hand to his son's face, feeling life in him again, as Faramir slowly began to open his eyes. "I thought i had lost you."

"Father," Faramir said, his voice still only just a murmur. "What happened to me, father? Am i home again?"

"You are, Faramir, you are home," Aragorn said, wondering where Faramir thought he had been. He wished he could tell his son what had happened, he wished he understood what had happened.

Just then Faramir just slightly shifted his injured arm and pain shot through him, causing him to arch up in agony. It robbed him even of the ability to cry out and the pain lasted less than a minute but left him wide awake and sweating before Aragorn could grab the cloth soaked in Athelas and press it to his wound. Gradually Faramir began to relax but refused to test his arm again.

"Faramir, i am sorry," Aragorn said, brushing the damp cloth over Faramir's forehead. "I should have told you first thing not to move your arm. I wanted to bind it before you woke, but Erestor thought it best to allow it to heal freely."

"What happened, father? How was i injured?" Faramir asked in confusion, his voice coming up to a normal quality of sound again. "I heard so many voices and saw so many people last night, but i remember sustaining no injury."

"I do not know, Faramir. No one will tell me either. Damned Elves speak in riddles when they speak at all." Aragorn sighed and shook his head. "No. No, i did not mean that. If it hadn't been for Glor' and Erestor, i don't know what i would have done."

"How right you are," Erestor said, suddenly appearing next to a waking Glorfindel. "You are looking well, Faramir, much better than you did when we found you here," the dark-haired Elf said, handing a thankful Faramir a slice of fruit.

"Indeed, you are looking well. Let me have a look at your arm. Can you move it at all?" Glorfindel asked.

"No, not at all. I just shifted it when the worst pain i have ever felt wracked me," Faramir replied, making it plain he was not going to move his left arm, come what may. "Glorfindel, what happened to me?"

Glorfindel looked into Faramir's eyes and smiled vaguely. "I think i had better leave the explanations to the Lady of Lorien. I know of this, but she knows more."

"Can you at least tell me who i heard speaking to me?" Faramir asked, desperate for answers. The voices he had heard in the night chilled and frightened him, and though he was very glad to be awake again and feeling in safe hands, he feared to fall back into sleep.

"Speaking to you?" Erestor questioned in concern. "Perhaps it was us you heard, Faramir?"
Faramir shook his head. "No. They were strange voices, speaking in a tongue i did not know, yet i could understand what they were saying. These voices sounded like nothing i have ever heard before. They were as the very voices of the elements of the earth. One was fluent and sounded rich and steady, almost like a deep running river. Another was patient, but stern, and though it caused me to fear i knew it spoke of caution and protection for me. There was a third that was also tolerant and firm, but it seemed a great lordly voice of someone with wisdom i could not fathom. A fourth voice there was as well, one that seemed to argue against the other three. It was the most fearsome sound i should ever have heard and just the sound of it i thought would rend the very earth. It's tone was that of the very black of a clouded, moonless night and when it spoke i felt like less than nothing. I wanted to be dead rather than to hear it. They only spoke to me, not to each other, these four disembodied voices, and when they spoke i perceived color, a different shade for each voice. The lordly voice was of blue, and the protecting voice of misty grey. The river's voice, as it seemed, was one in which i perceived not so much color but a beckoning. Those three seemed to speak all together from one side of me, while the black voice was opposite them. The three called urgently to me, they told me to fight against the fourth voice and to heed it not for it spoke naught but lies. I was caught in the middle and was sure that these beings were going to break out into a war over me."

Whereas Aragorn sat entirely as confused as Faramir was, Erestor looked as though his interpretation could not have possibly been. But Glorfindel stared at the Steward wide-eyed and agape. "The Lords spoke to you, Faramir?" Glorfindel said in pure astonishment.

"What Lords do you speak of, Master Glorfindel?" Faramir asked.

"The Lords of the West," Galadhriel said from the doorway. "The Valar. By your description, Faramir, you were spoken to by Ulmo, Lord of the Waters, Námo, Doomsman of the Valar, Manwë, King of Arda, and Morgoth Bauglir."

Faramir looked uncertain. "Why should they wish to speak to me? I am no one to the Lords of the West," Faramir said. Suddenly he remembered what he had thought but the morning last about the involvement of the Lords of Valinor in his life thus far.

Galadhriel's voice was soft with understanding. "The three spoke to you, Faramir, because an evil of Morgoth had beleaguered your thoughts with lies. Did you ever truly believe that you have suffered because the Valar willed it so?"

Faramir had not the strength to answer her directly. "I believed that they would have had me prove myself by not giving in to weaknesses. Yet suddenly everything that i did or said began to seem like a weakness. How was i injured though? I recall nothing happening to me."

Galadhriel looked from Faramir to Aragorn. "It was by the despair of Morgoth, Faramir. He chose Gûd daedheloth purely for it's paradox, thinking it would prove him greater than his foe."
Faramir looked at his injury in disgrace. "I did this to myself?" he asked incredulously.

There was really no right way to answer him straightforwardly without causing the young man more pain. "Do you remember doing it, Faramir?" Galadhriel asked gently.

"No, lady, i do not," he replied truthfully. "I only remember holding the knife and seeing the letters illuminated in the moonlight. Strangely, it gave me hope, but then a cloud obscured the light and i suddenly felt bemused, my head at once both heavy and light. I felt as though i was falling into a sleep, and the last thing i remember seeing was the knife illuminated again."

"Then you are not at fault for this, Faramir. You are brave and true, young Steward," she said, her voice, as ever, of many woodland birdsongs. "The Dark Foe will not pursue you again, Faramir, for you have resisted and his power was not strong enough to claim you. You must believe in yourself, Faramir, for the sake of those who love you more than you realize, for those who have been, those who are, and for those who are yet to be," the White Lady of Lorien said as the White Lady of Rohan approached the bedchamber.