Far and Away
Chapter 27
~*~
He had simply walked away without looking back. Without a single tear betraying his screaming mind, but silenced hurt and broken heart. Down the stairs to summon his rangers who followed him without question. He led them to the gates. Led them into death.
Gandalf had tried to reason with him, but Faramir won't listen to him. He just kept riding. He just kept riding with Mablung and Damrod on his left and Anborn faithfully at him right.
Anborn. He had always trusted him. He was so young, had so much more of his life to live. But that would end before nightfall.
The pound of the horses' hoofs resounded in his mind.
The sweat of anticipation ran down his face.
His heart raced in his chest.
His throat split as he screamed for the charge.
His body was tense, on fire, as they raced to their death.
And as they got within fifty yards away, a shower of arrows ambushed them.
And just as he reached the city's gate, a fire burned into his body and he remembered no more.
Faramir jolted awake, covered with sweat. His breath came hard and fast and his hands shook as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. He sat still for a while, letting the cool spring night sooth him with its gentle winds. He got quietly out of bed and going to the window, he looked out over the darkened city below him. He heard the faint voices carried up over the levels of the city and he sighed and turned back to go to bed.
But as he turned, he noticed that a soft light was coming from down the hall. He silently walked over the open door and looked toward the light. It was coming for the Hobbit's room. He looked back at his bed and then walked down the hall. It wasn't because he wasn't tired, but because the vivid reality of the living nightmare still burned into the back of his mind and he really didn't want to enter that again.
He lightly knocked on the door and as soon as he did a curly head popped out and looked up at him with big eyes.
He smiled down at the small creature. Merry stared at him questioningly.
"Couldn't sleep?" asked Faramir.
Merry nodded. "I don't really sleep that much any more, sir."
"Ah," breathed Faramir, "I suppose none of us do now."
Merry sighed and nodded. He looked up at Faramir. "Why are you here again?"
Faramir stared at the Hobbit and then shrugged. "I just saw your light on and thought you might be awake."
"Oh-"Merry looked at him for a moment and then opened the door. "Do you want to come in?"
Faramir smiled and stepped inside Merry's small room.
"Would you like something the eat?" Merry offered the captain a bowl of fruit and bread.
Faramir grinned and shook him head. "Perhaps some wine?"
Merry smiled. "Yes! Wine. I must admit, Captain Faramir, the wines your people drink are fine, but it always makes me miss the Shire, the Green Dragon and a big pint of Ale." Merry sighed and smiled weakly. "I don't suppose we'll be going back though." He shook off his sadness and filled a tall glass with wine. He handed it to Faramir and poured himself some, though he didn't drink it.
Faramir examined the Hobbit. He did resemble Frodo in a way, but maybe he looked a little like Samwise too. Faramir sighed and Merry looked up at him inquisitively.
"Oh, I was just thinking," Faramir said.
Merry smiled. "About the Lady?"
Faramir's heart immediately began to pound. He stared at Merry. The Hobbit's smirk began to melt into a small "o" of embarrassment.
"I'm so terribly sorry my lord." Merry stammered. "I didn't realize- I didn't know-"
"No, no," Faramir said. "Its alright." He sat down in a chair and gazed at Merry. "What makes you say such a thing, master Hobbit?"
"Oh, no reason- I just see the way to look at her sometimes from the corner of your eye as you pass the Lady in the hall." Merry's small smile crept back into his face. "Am I right, sir? Did I guess right?"
Faramir could feel his face burning. He saw Merry's satisfied and amused look. Now he could really feel the fire burning in his cheeks.
Faramir grunted and Merry laughed.
"I'm sorry my lord, I suppose that it wasn't my place to say such a thing."
Faramir shook his head. "No, you were not out of place, my friend. Come, let's talk and eat. I should think that you have quite a few stories to tell if what Frodo said-"Faramir's voice's drifted off as he saw the surprised look on Merry's face. "What?"
"Did you say Frodo? Frodo Baggins?" Merry stared at Faramir with questioning eyes.
Faramir gazed back at Merry. "Yes- I suppose I did. Do you know him? I mean, you must be one of his kin that he spoke of."
Merry jumped up and grabbed Faramir's arm, shaking it violently. "He's alive? Sam also? Where is he? When did you see him? Where was he going? Was he alright?"
Faramir held Merry. "Stop shaking so or you will harm yourself." He eased Merry down to the floor. The Hobbit sat shivering on the ground, tears streaming down his ruddy face. "Yes," the captain said softly. "I have seen your kin. He is with two companions-"
"Two?"
"Yes- Samwise and Gollum-" "Gollum!" Merry's voice was full of disgust.
"Yes, that creature was their guide."
"Their guide! Surly Frodo couldn't be that stupid! Not stupid enough to trust that- thing."
"Merry, it's alright. Sam will be there to protect Frodo if anything happens. Gollum isn't trustworthy, yes; but your cousin has taken him under his wing and there was no telling him who he should trust or where he should go. Frodo has made his choice. May the Valar's grace be with him."
Merry nodded. He raised his sandy curls toward Faramir and asked, "You know of the Valar? The Holy Ones?"
Faramir smiled. "Yes, I do."
Merry crawled over and sat at Faramir's feet. "Please, sir, tell me of them."
Faramir smiled. "I have only heard stories of them, master Hobbit, I do not know them."
Merry shook his head. "It doesn't matter! Please! So that maybe one day I can tell Pippin of them." His voice trailed off and he cast him eyes to the ground.
The young captain sighed. He set his glass of wine on the table beside him and rubbed his tired eyes. "Alright Merry- I will tell you what I know."
Merry's eyes shone bright with gratitude and excitement. He eagerly leaned forwarded, resting his head in his hands.
Faramir smiled and began to tell the tale.
~*~
Eowyn lay in her room, quietly staring at the ceiling. Her room was right next to Merry's and through her open door, she silently listened to the stories being told.
They were beautiful. The voice that spoke them was gentle and smooth. Faramir's voice comforted her aching heart and she simply listened.
The tales were of great persons, Elves, who first awoke on the shores of the Valinor a long time ago. The stories spoke of their happy lives, how they found joy and beauty in all they did. The rising and falling of Farami's voice told of the fall of elves, their rebellion and their exile to this Middle Earth.
He spoke stories of the Silver and the Gray Elves who built up great kingdoms of the forests and wooded realms of the world. He told the tales of their lives.
The tale of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel fascinated her. The story of their undying love resounded in her heart and mind. The beauty and purity of their love was thick in his voice as he spoke of their adventures together and how after he had died, she gave up her immortality to be with him.
He continued to speak of the High Elves- the great kings and queens and lord of the Elven kin. He spoke of their great and mighty deeds and of their love for the sea. Though their majesty was in the period of the Dark Years of Men, their truth shone through the darkness with a brilliant light.
Once or twice, Eowyn heard Faramir softly sing a song to Merry in an elvish tongue (at least she assumed it was because it was not any language of man that she understood.) His song was haunting and yet beautiful. His words dropped like golden rain upon her soul and to her surprise, unexpected tears fell for the sadness of words she did not understand.
Faramir spoke brief about a jewel of greatest price: the Silmarillion. It had been made in Valinor, but carried across the sea to Middle Earth by the exiled Elves. Its beauty was and still is unmatched among every walk of life on earth.
He spoke of turning tides, when men rose up in power, and how Gondor had been established. He spoke of the great kings of the past, until he finally came to the War at the end of the Second Age.
His voice softened, and Eowyn could no long hear him. It almost made her heart sad to be left in silence after hearing the great stories of the world. She had many questions she would have liked to ask Faramir, but she won't want him to think that she had been eaves dropping on them the entire night.
She rolled over and looked out her window. A chill wind blew through the open glass and she shivered. She slipped out of bed and stumbling to find her coat in the darkness, she pulled the warmth around her body.
She walked back over to her bed and would have climbed in, but she heard Faramir's voice as he exited into the hall. She peaked out though her door and saw him walking toward her. She leaned against the doorway, and suddenly found it hard to breath.
He had almost walked past her before he realized that she was standing there. He stopped and took a step back as if surprised. He quickly recovered and bowed. She simply looked intently at his dim figure.
"My lady," he said. "Could you not sleep?"
"No, but I did have the please of listening to your stories you told Merry."
"Ah," Faramir looked at her. If this moment had taken place at some other time than the middle of the night, Eowyn could have seen his cheeks flushed with emotion. "I hope that I didn't disturb you."
"Oh, no." Eowyn shook her head. "I rather enjoyed listening to the great tales of old. Where did you learn them?"
Faramir glanced down the hall and then looked back at her. "Walk with me?"
The request was entirely unexpected, but Eowyn took Faramir's arm and they both began to wander the hall of the House of Healing.
"You see, Mithrandir often came here to visit our libraries when I was young."
"Mithrandir?"
"Yes, oh, I suppose you would call him Gandalf?"
"Yes, that's what my people have known him as."
"Hm, mine as well, but I've always known him by his elvish name." Faramir feel into silence, seeming to be deep in thought. He sighed and then went on with his story. "Anyway, like I said, he used to come here to read old texts from our libraries. My father was never pleased with this, but he allowed it. So as Mithrandir would spend time looking through old books, my brother and I would follow him." Faramir smiled, remembering. "Boromir would usually get bored after an hour and would go off to seek something more amusing. But I would stay and watch as the old man looked through document after document.
"After an number of visits, he finally seemed to notice that I followed him around. So he would let me help him find books on what he wanted to read. They were usually things having to do with the Line of Kings of Gondor or about the War of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. But as he was looking for what he wanted, he would tell me stories to keep me entertained. Sometimes Boromir, my brother, would come with me and listened, but he only enjoyed the stories of great battles."
"Hm, so where is your brother now?"
The silence that followed that question was the loudest Eowyn had ever experienced in her life.
~*~
Faramir paused, gazing at this angel whose arms was resting upon him. She couldn't have possibly known, but the memory was too much. "He is dead," he curtly replied.
Sorrow edged her eyes in the pool of moonlight. "I'm so sorry- I did not know."
He shook his head, looking away. "No, you couldn't have known."
The two walked on in silence for a time until they had made a full round and came back to Eowyn's room.
They stood in the cool night, simply gazing at one another. Faramir was lost in love. Her golden hair shone in the starlight. Her eyes were filled with the moon's magic. Her voice was smooth and soothing. Nothing- no one compared to her. Not a soul could have matched her beauty.
After a minute though, the magic of the moment vanished as Eowyn softly said good night. She gently squeezed his arm before slipping back into her door and shutting the door.
Faramir smiled and lightly touched his arm. He felt like a foolish 12-year- old school boy lost in love, but he didn't care. He was in love, and there would be nothing that could bring him down.
As he lay back down in his bed, he smiled. He was happy, and not afraid any more.
~*~*~*~ ok, I know I'm a terrible person. Plz forgive me for not updating sooner, but I think this will make up for it- Faramir and Eowyn! (can't you feel the chemistry? These two were meant to be!) m, I'll try with an update, I promise! In the mean time, if you're bored, plz check out some of my poems. I hope you like 'em. (OH! And any suggestions or ideas that you would like to be presented in the next chapter, please tell me about in your REVIEW!!)
~*~
He had simply walked away without looking back. Without a single tear betraying his screaming mind, but silenced hurt and broken heart. Down the stairs to summon his rangers who followed him without question. He led them to the gates. Led them into death.
Gandalf had tried to reason with him, but Faramir won't listen to him. He just kept riding. He just kept riding with Mablung and Damrod on his left and Anborn faithfully at him right.
Anborn. He had always trusted him. He was so young, had so much more of his life to live. But that would end before nightfall.
The pound of the horses' hoofs resounded in his mind.
The sweat of anticipation ran down his face.
His heart raced in his chest.
His throat split as he screamed for the charge.
His body was tense, on fire, as they raced to their death.
And as they got within fifty yards away, a shower of arrows ambushed them.
And just as he reached the city's gate, a fire burned into his body and he remembered no more.
Faramir jolted awake, covered with sweat. His breath came hard and fast and his hands shook as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. He sat still for a while, letting the cool spring night sooth him with its gentle winds. He got quietly out of bed and going to the window, he looked out over the darkened city below him. He heard the faint voices carried up over the levels of the city and he sighed and turned back to go to bed.
But as he turned, he noticed that a soft light was coming from down the hall. He silently walked over the open door and looked toward the light. It was coming for the Hobbit's room. He looked back at his bed and then walked down the hall. It wasn't because he wasn't tired, but because the vivid reality of the living nightmare still burned into the back of his mind and he really didn't want to enter that again.
He lightly knocked on the door and as soon as he did a curly head popped out and looked up at him with big eyes.
He smiled down at the small creature. Merry stared at him questioningly.
"Couldn't sleep?" asked Faramir.
Merry nodded. "I don't really sleep that much any more, sir."
"Ah," breathed Faramir, "I suppose none of us do now."
Merry sighed and nodded. He looked up at Faramir. "Why are you here again?"
Faramir stared at the Hobbit and then shrugged. "I just saw your light on and thought you might be awake."
"Oh-"Merry looked at him for a moment and then opened the door. "Do you want to come in?"
Faramir smiled and stepped inside Merry's small room.
"Would you like something the eat?" Merry offered the captain a bowl of fruit and bread.
Faramir grinned and shook him head. "Perhaps some wine?"
Merry smiled. "Yes! Wine. I must admit, Captain Faramir, the wines your people drink are fine, but it always makes me miss the Shire, the Green Dragon and a big pint of Ale." Merry sighed and smiled weakly. "I don't suppose we'll be going back though." He shook off his sadness and filled a tall glass with wine. He handed it to Faramir and poured himself some, though he didn't drink it.
Faramir examined the Hobbit. He did resemble Frodo in a way, but maybe he looked a little like Samwise too. Faramir sighed and Merry looked up at him inquisitively.
"Oh, I was just thinking," Faramir said.
Merry smiled. "About the Lady?"
Faramir's heart immediately began to pound. He stared at Merry. The Hobbit's smirk began to melt into a small "o" of embarrassment.
"I'm so terribly sorry my lord." Merry stammered. "I didn't realize- I didn't know-"
"No, no," Faramir said. "Its alright." He sat down in a chair and gazed at Merry. "What makes you say such a thing, master Hobbit?"
"Oh, no reason- I just see the way to look at her sometimes from the corner of your eye as you pass the Lady in the hall." Merry's small smile crept back into his face. "Am I right, sir? Did I guess right?"
Faramir could feel his face burning. He saw Merry's satisfied and amused look. Now he could really feel the fire burning in his cheeks.
Faramir grunted and Merry laughed.
"I'm sorry my lord, I suppose that it wasn't my place to say such a thing."
Faramir shook his head. "No, you were not out of place, my friend. Come, let's talk and eat. I should think that you have quite a few stories to tell if what Frodo said-"Faramir's voice's drifted off as he saw the surprised look on Merry's face. "What?"
"Did you say Frodo? Frodo Baggins?" Merry stared at Faramir with questioning eyes.
Faramir gazed back at Merry. "Yes- I suppose I did. Do you know him? I mean, you must be one of his kin that he spoke of."
Merry jumped up and grabbed Faramir's arm, shaking it violently. "He's alive? Sam also? Where is he? When did you see him? Where was he going? Was he alright?"
Faramir held Merry. "Stop shaking so or you will harm yourself." He eased Merry down to the floor. The Hobbit sat shivering on the ground, tears streaming down his ruddy face. "Yes," the captain said softly. "I have seen your kin. He is with two companions-"
"Two?"
"Yes- Samwise and Gollum-" "Gollum!" Merry's voice was full of disgust.
"Yes, that creature was their guide."
"Their guide! Surly Frodo couldn't be that stupid! Not stupid enough to trust that- thing."
"Merry, it's alright. Sam will be there to protect Frodo if anything happens. Gollum isn't trustworthy, yes; but your cousin has taken him under his wing and there was no telling him who he should trust or where he should go. Frodo has made his choice. May the Valar's grace be with him."
Merry nodded. He raised his sandy curls toward Faramir and asked, "You know of the Valar? The Holy Ones?"
Faramir smiled. "Yes, I do."
Merry crawled over and sat at Faramir's feet. "Please, sir, tell me of them."
Faramir smiled. "I have only heard stories of them, master Hobbit, I do not know them."
Merry shook his head. "It doesn't matter! Please! So that maybe one day I can tell Pippin of them." His voice trailed off and he cast him eyes to the ground.
The young captain sighed. He set his glass of wine on the table beside him and rubbed his tired eyes. "Alright Merry- I will tell you what I know."
Merry's eyes shone bright with gratitude and excitement. He eagerly leaned forwarded, resting his head in his hands.
Faramir smiled and began to tell the tale.
~*~
Eowyn lay in her room, quietly staring at the ceiling. Her room was right next to Merry's and through her open door, she silently listened to the stories being told.
They were beautiful. The voice that spoke them was gentle and smooth. Faramir's voice comforted her aching heart and she simply listened.
The tales were of great persons, Elves, who first awoke on the shores of the Valinor a long time ago. The stories spoke of their happy lives, how they found joy and beauty in all they did. The rising and falling of Farami's voice told of the fall of elves, their rebellion and their exile to this Middle Earth.
He spoke stories of the Silver and the Gray Elves who built up great kingdoms of the forests and wooded realms of the world. He told the tales of their lives.
The tale of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel fascinated her. The story of their undying love resounded in her heart and mind. The beauty and purity of their love was thick in his voice as he spoke of their adventures together and how after he had died, she gave up her immortality to be with him.
He continued to speak of the High Elves- the great kings and queens and lord of the Elven kin. He spoke of their great and mighty deeds and of their love for the sea. Though their majesty was in the period of the Dark Years of Men, their truth shone through the darkness with a brilliant light.
Once or twice, Eowyn heard Faramir softly sing a song to Merry in an elvish tongue (at least she assumed it was because it was not any language of man that she understood.) His song was haunting and yet beautiful. His words dropped like golden rain upon her soul and to her surprise, unexpected tears fell for the sadness of words she did not understand.
Faramir spoke brief about a jewel of greatest price: the Silmarillion. It had been made in Valinor, but carried across the sea to Middle Earth by the exiled Elves. Its beauty was and still is unmatched among every walk of life on earth.
He spoke of turning tides, when men rose up in power, and how Gondor had been established. He spoke of the great kings of the past, until he finally came to the War at the end of the Second Age.
His voice softened, and Eowyn could no long hear him. It almost made her heart sad to be left in silence after hearing the great stories of the world. She had many questions she would have liked to ask Faramir, but she won't want him to think that she had been eaves dropping on them the entire night.
She rolled over and looked out her window. A chill wind blew through the open glass and she shivered. She slipped out of bed and stumbling to find her coat in the darkness, she pulled the warmth around her body.
She walked back over to her bed and would have climbed in, but she heard Faramir's voice as he exited into the hall. She peaked out though her door and saw him walking toward her. She leaned against the doorway, and suddenly found it hard to breath.
He had almost walked past her before he realized that she was standing there. He stopped and took a step back as if surprised. He quickly recovered and bowed. She simply looked intently at his dim figure.
"My lady," he said. "Could you not sleep?"
"No, but I did have the please of listening to your stories you told Merry."
"Ah," Faramir looked at her. If this moment had taken place at some other time than the middle of the night, Eowyn could have seen his cheeks flushed with emotion. "I hope that I didn't disturb you."
"Oh, no." Eowyn shook her head. "I rather enjoyed listening to the great tales of old. Where did you learn them?"
Faramir glanced down the hall and then looked back at her. "Walk with me?"
The request was entirely unexpected, but Eowyn took Faramir's arm and they both began to wander the hall of the House of Healing.
"You see, Mithrandir often came here to visit our libraries when I was young."
"Mithrandir?"
"Yes, oh, I suppose you would call him Gandalf?"
"Yes, that's what my people have known him as."
"Hm, mine as well, but I've always known him by his elvish name." Faramir feel into silence, seeming to be deep in thought. He sighed and then went on with his story. "Anyway, like I said, he used to come here to read old texts from our libraries. My father was never pleased with this, but he allowed it. So as Mithrandir would spend time looking through old books, my brother and I would follow him." Faramir smiled, remembering. "Boromir would usually get bored after an hour and would go off to seek something more amusing. But I would stay and watch as the old man looked through document after document.
"After an number of visits, he finally seemed to notice that I followed him around. So he would let me help him find books on what he wanted to read. They were usually things having to do with the Line of Kings of Gondor or about the War of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. But as he was looking for what he wanted, he would tell me stories to keep me entertained. Sometimes Boromir, my brother, would come with me and listened, but he only enjoyed the stories of great battles."
"Hm, so where is your brother now?"
The silence that followed that question was the loudest Eowyn had ever experienced in her life.
~*~
Faramir paused, gazing at this angel whose arms was resting upon him. She couldn't have possibly known, but the memory was too much. "He is dead," he curtly replied.
Sorrow edged her eyes in the pool of moonlight. "I'm so sorry- I did not know."
He shook his head, looking away. "No, you couldn't have known."
The two walked on in silence for a time until they had made a full round and came back to Eowyn's room.
They stood in the cool night, simply gazing at one another. Faramir was lost in love. Her golden hair shone in the starlight. Her eyes were filled with the moon's magic. Her voice was smooth and soothing. Nothing- no one compared to her. Not a soul could have matched her beauty.
After a minute though, the magic of the moment vanished as Eowyn softly said good night. She gently squeezed his arm before slipping back into her door and shutting the door.
Faramir smiled and lightly touched his arm. He felt like a foolish 12-year- old school boy lost in love, but he didn't care. He was in love, and there would be nothing that could bring him down.
As he lay back down in his bed, he smiled. He was happy, and not afraid any more.
~*~*~*~ ok, I know I'm a terrible person. Plz forgive me for not updating sooner, but I think this will make up for it- Faramir and Eowyn! (can't you feel the chemistry? These two were meant to be!) m, I'll try with an update, I promise! In the mean time, if you're bored, plz check out some of my poems. I hope you like 'em. (OH! And any suggestions or ideas that you would like to be presented in the next chapter, please tell me about in your REVIEW!!)