Hmm, this is another short chapter. I think I'm going to do one more after this so they can get engaged etc.
First chapter = disclaimers.
SperryDee: Yes, I do remember you. How are you? I'm glad you like my new fic.
For the rest of you, thank you so much for the kind reviews. You're really the best.
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Faramir awoke the next morning with unbridled enthusiasm. Why, he could not say, for the whole of Middle Earth could face destruction at any moment. Yet he could not curb his happiness such as it was. A small smile quirked across his lips as a vision of golden hair floated on the wind in his mind's eye.
If he was to be honest with himself, he was smitten. He was smitten beyond hope of redemption, and he had chosen to do it at what was quite possibly the worst point in time to become infatuated.
Faramir chuckled silently. He was not usually a person who would be so contrary to the normal rules of society. He had always been the good, a quiet son. Boromir would have laughed to see his brother fall in love when the possibility that Middle Earth would fall into utter despair was looming on the horizon.
Faramir sighed as he looked down at his hands. Along that path lay two subjects he was not certain that he was willing to think on. One was the contemplation of whether or not he had truly fallen in love with the Lady of Rohan, and the other was the contemplation of what had become of his family. Both subjects could bring their own grief, for to think upon his father and brother's death would bring great sadness, and to think upon Lady Eowyn would bring distress at the thought that she might not feel the same as he.
Faramir picked sullenly at his coverlet. He had woken in such good humor only to fall into glum thinking. Boromir had often teased him as child when he had begun to think too deeply. Boromir had always been the one to cajole Faramir into better spirits when their father had been harsh. And Faramir had often been the one who soothed his brother's temper; he had talked Boromir out of many confrontations.
Faramir glanced out the window and smiled sadly in remembrance. Most of the fights he had talked Boromir out of were when Boromir had felt the need to protect his little brother, and not a few of them had been fights he had planned to pick with their own father.
A polite knock at his door roused him from his own musings.
"Lord Faramir, are you awake?" the healer asked through the door.
"Yes, do come in," Faramir replied with some of his earlier vigor. The sooner he was done with the healer, the sooner he could be on his way to meet with Eowyn.
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Eowyn strolled calmly through the halls out to the point in the gardens that she had been instructed to go. Her heart pounded against her chest in stark constrast to her even pace. Why she should be nervous about a meeting with Faramir, she did not know. She was not certain she wished to know.
He was a handsome enough man, she supposed. He was particularly handsome when his lips quirked into a small grin…
Her mouth opened and closed as her body halted in mid stride. She had not just thought such a thing. It was indeed improper for a lady of Rohan to think such things once over a certain age. She was no longer a child who could indulge in romantic notions. The reality of life was hard. Strength and honor and courage were what a woman should seek in a mate. It did not matter what sort of smile he had.
Forcing the foolish thought back where it belonged, she resumed her walk.
A short time later, she found herself standing in front of a very well groomed Steward of Gondor.
"You look better today, my lord," She nodded towards Faramir who was sitting on a small bench.
Faramir smiled, "Do I indeed? Perhaps it was the promise of today that brought me new strength."
"Do you intend to vex me? For if I accuse you of trying to flatter me, you will only say that the prospect of the gardens brought you here, yet if I assume that it is the gardens of which you speak, you will chide me for not counting myself as equal to the gardens," Eowyn bantered back.
Faramir's smile grew wider, "Ah, you wound me by such accusations. For I meant both the gardens and my company, for I cannot elevate one above the other."
"I knew it! Your words were a trap to see if you could foil me with your wit," Eowyn smiled triumphantly.
Faramir sighed, "You may think what you wish, but as for me the sun is shining and I do not wish to waste either the beauty of the gardens or the beauty of my companion on a quarrel. So, I cede to you."
Eowyn nodded, "I accept your cessation."
Faramir looked slightly shocked, "What you accept my surrender under such terms as I gave?"
Eowyn nodded, "I am no vain lady. I have won a victory, Lord Faramir, I am not proud as to the exact stipulation. A slain Orc is a slain Orc whether by sword or by pitchfork."
Faramir sighed theatrically, "I am a wretched man, for I have just been compared to an Orc with a pitchfork thrust through him."
Eowyn could not help but laugh lightly at his antics.
Faramir stopped and stared intently at her.
"What?" She asked uncomfortably.
"I do not think I have heard so beautiful a sound in many ages as what I have just heard," Faramir responded earnestly.
Eowyn looked away, "It is nothing beautiful for I am not truly joyous."
"You do not believe in tragic beauty then?" Faramir queried as he rose from the bench to take her arm in his own.
"I do not find anything beautiful in death. Such ties as these can show strength and even love, but beauty does not shine upon them," Eowyn replied.
"Perhaps not, but beauty does shine all the more radiantly against it. Perhaps when sullied by grief, beauty is no longer as pure as it once was, but it can become deeper and truer. Tragic beauty is not beautiful because of the ill that has befallen it. It is attractive because it still shines. It is striking because it has a chance at redemption. It has faced the grimness of the world and still does not die," Faramir spoke quietly, yet earnestly.
Eowyn blushed, "You could have been a poet, sir."
Faramir laughed himself, "Indeed I could have, but my brother had a terrible habit of whining whenever I went off on a romantic bent, and I lost time for practicing the craft."
Eowyn smiled, "My brother would run in shame whenever I pulled out my sword."
"Oh? He did not think you should pursue your blade?"
Eowyn sneaked a glance over at Faramir, "No, I beat him in a duel once. I used to threaten to tell the entire court about it."
Faramir chuckled, "It seems then, that we are a matched pair. Perhaps you could teach me needlework?"
Eowyn slapped him lightly on his arm, "You should not jest about such things. People might hear you."
"I doubt very much that my reputation is in any danger for mention of sewing. I have had to mend enough of my own garments when I was out in the wilds. Besides, Boromir used to embroider his own tunics."
A shocked look crossed Eowyn's face, "Surely not."
Faramir shook his head, "I tell the truth. He was excessively picky about how his shirts were done. Once there was a new seamstress, and her work was poor. Boromir had such a fit that he learned to do his own needle work and would redo any stitching he did not like. I never really understood it myself. He usually soiled them in some battle or another, or tore them. But for the first time he wore it, it had to be perfect."
"You miss him, do you not?" Eowyn asked quietly.
Faramir nodded, "It is strange, I think, that I should remember my brother more fondly than I do my father."
"I do not qualify to assess you on that point. For my own parents I have little recollection of and my brother still lives. If I were to choose, I would say that I mourn the passing of my uncle more than of Theodred, but they are not equal. Theodred has been dead for some time and my uncle died before my very eyes. They are two very separate things," Eowyn replied.
Faramir stopped walking and stared at the darkness of Mordor, "All our grieving may all come to naught if Frodo does not succeed."
Eowyn sighed, "Would that I could have gone with them. My window does not even show the view, and much of my heart lies with those who have gone."
Faramir looked tenderly upon her face, "Even if I could, I would not bid you to such a place, but such as within my power I can grant you the second request."
Eowyn's eyes lit in thanks and she turned to watch the darkness again, and they said nor more 'til they parted.