The Quiet of the Night
Summary: A quiet night with Éowyn and Faramir. (One-shot)
Standard disclaimers apply, I don't own the characters.
Note: Assume movie canon for Faramir's dream.
He watched her sleep; peaceful, beautiful she was in the moonlight. Her back was to him but he raised himself on his elbow so he could see her face. He brushed the golden hair that fell across her cheek and arm away, then lightly ran his hand over the curve of her shoulder. Her skin was cold, bared to the night air, so he pulled the linen up to cover her. He continued his gentle caress beneath the sheet where her body was warm from his closeness. He crested her hip and splayed his hand across her abdomen, barely touching her. It was soothing to feel her beside him, calming his mind by her very presence.
"Go back to sleep, love." Her voice interrupted the quiet of the night. She did not move or open her eyes and he smiled regretfully.
"I did not mean to wake you." He saw her smile at this.
"You never do." After a moment she opened her eyes and shifted to turn and look up at him. "The Pelennor?" She asked simply. He nodded. She reached up and touched his cheek with the backs of her fingers, then brushed his hair back behind his ear. The simple touch moved him greatly and he caught her fingers before they dropped, bringing them to his lips. He kept his eyes on hers as he kissed her fingers. He continued to hold hers as he lowered their hands to the bed, resting them on her abdomen. She did not move, waiting for him to speak.
"I remember looking in their eyes as we marched through Minas Tirith to certain death. My soldiers. They followed me unquestioning, to death. So many good men, dead." He paused and she waited for him to continue. "Do you ever dream of it? The battle that day?" He had never asked her this before but if she was surprised she did not show it. She nodded.
"At times." She responded quietly. Her gaze grew distant as she continued. "I dream of the advance, the Lord of the Nazgûl, my uncle's final moments." She returned her eyes to his. "All of the men I had known since childhood, and those that I didn't, dying around me."
"How do you bear it?" She did not answer immediately.
"I wake up." She smiled slightly. "I wake up to a Middle Earth without the threat of Sauron. A Middle Earth that is the better because of their sacrifices, those good men of Rohan and of Gondor. I wake up to a Middle Earth that is safer for our child." He nodded slowly, watching her hand as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. She knew the moment he understood; his thumb stopped moving and he looked back into her waiting eyes.
"What did you say?" He asked quietly.
"Middle Earth is safer for our child."
"What child?" She only raised her eyebrows in answer. He let out a shuddering breath. "Our child?" She smiled.
"Our child." He released her hand, bringing his own to her cheek.
"How long have you known?"
"Not long." He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips and she felt the tears that escaped his eyelids on her face. When he pulled back he looked at her abdomen. He held his hand out but paused, looking back at her.
"May I?" She chuckled and teased him.
"You have never asked leave to touch me before, why do you begin now?"
"Now it is not only you." He murmured, less in response to her question than in wonder at the reality of the moment. He touched her again as he had before, spreading his fingers across her skin, now with the knowledge of the new life growing within her. "Our child." He repeated softly.
"Yes, a fine son." She said, her voice tired.
"Son?" He asked, looking back at her.
"Of course," she smiled sleepily, brushing the hair from her face. "You need an heir." She sighed, closing her eyes and settling herself to sleep again. "Then we can begin on an army of shieldmaidens." His smile broadened and he would have laughed aloud if his attention had not returned to his hand over their unborn child. She brought her hand down to rest on his and he lay beside her finally, gathering her close. He kissed her temple.
"I love you." He whispered. She smiled and squeezed his hand.
"And I you." She was asleep again in moments and he lay awake, reflecting on all that had been said. When his eyes closed at last a smile was on his face and his dreams were no longer of past battles and death, but of future happiness and life.
Note: As usual (for me), the dialogue came first and suddenly (while I was in the middle of a headache-inducing chapter on information economics if you can believe that, clearly not an interesting subject as my mind drifted so easily), so I hope the narrative is alright.
I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review Eavesdropping in Emyn Arnen, I was overwhelmed by the response here and elsewhere. Every review definitely made my day and has made me a more diligent review of others' stories. A special thanks to those who reviewed months after the original post, I know I have a bad habit of not submitting reviews to older stories, but of course, it's a new story if you've never read it. Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed this as well.