A/N: Thank you for the reviews! They make me smile like this DDDDDDDDDDDDDD Haha, here's Chapter 5 now!
Chapter 5
Eowyn suddenly broke away and faltered backwards towards the other end of the hall. She leaned against the wall, weak in the knees and tears in her eyes.
"Faramir..." she whispered breatlessly, staring at the floor.
"Eowyn, I had to," he said as he approached her again. "I love you." She looked at him, and Faramir saw in her eyes wonder and fear, as well as her courage and beauty. Did she love him? He still didn't know...
"Eowyn, I've loved you ever since our time together in the Houses of Healing. I've loved you from my home in Gondor, and I've loved you on every visit I've made here. Too many occasions have already passed where I should have told you my true feelings, but I've just been too ... too afraid." Faramir could feel his heart beating from his toes to his ears, every inch of his body burning with love for Eowyn. What joy he would have if only she would love him back, to share another embrace and kiss with her! He would marry her that day, and then take her home with him to Ithilien and show her the wonderful gardens and forests of his homeland. His men would adore her as their White Lady from Rohan, and their kids would have the nobility of the Numenoreans and the courage of the Rohirrim, as well as the beauty and grace of their mother. All if only Eowyn would love him back.
But for now, she only stood silently in front of him, gently crying.
"Eowyn," he said while his heart fluttered. He reached his hand out to touch her cheek but she swiftly turned away and ran down the hall, disappearing into the darkness.
"Eowyn!" he cried, the warmth in his body quickly fading as a chill ran up his back. She did not love him then? How could Eomer's words been wrong? How could Faramir's own feelings be wrong? And how could Eowyn not see how much he truly and sincerely loved her? How could she not feel the love between them, when all others could? Overcome by sudden anguish, Faramir slammed his fist against the wood wall and then ran down the hall in the opposite direction. He hurtled into the Great Hall and saw Eomer talking with Lothiriel by the throne. Ashamed by the tears he felt in his eyes, he turned away from them and ran towards the door.
"Faramir!" cried Eomer from within. "We missed you at - where are you going?"
Faramir kept his head down as he slightly turned toward Eomer. "I thank you for your gracious hospitality, Eomer King. Duty, though, calls me to return to Gondor." And then he sped down the steps of Meduseld to retrieve his horse.
Once on the Plains of Rohan, he never gazed back for a final look at the Golden City, or the fair maiden in white who watched him from her window in Meduseld.
Faramir rode all day, stopping for neither food nor drink. His heart was too heavy to think of eating, and anyways, he had left in such a rush he had forgotten to pack some nourishment for the journey home. And a long journey he felt it would be.
He continued riding through the night, welcoming the stars and moons as they cloaked him in the darkness that accompanied them. The sun was only a constant reminder of a lady's shining beauty. But as he gazed up towards the glowing full moon, a memory of her grace and perfection shivered through his bones. She was everywhere yet nowhere to him, an endless cycle of torture imposed on his aching heart.
And so it was for the next few days; Faramir wept and tried to forget the memories that would always be with him while his loyal horse tirelessly sped across the plains, bringing his master away from sad occurences and towards his own home.
At dawn on the fourth day, Faramir finally saw the towers of Minas Tirith shimmering in the rising sun, the banners flying in the crisp morning breeze just above the horizon. A new sense of peace settled in Faramir's heart, for the sight of his city never failed to awaken his pride and dignity, especially in times when they felt as though they had
disappeared forever. This was his city, where he was born and raised, and where he now ruled as Steward, serving his people in all ways possible. Minas Tirith would never betray him, or break his heart for that matter, and he hoped that one day he would die inside her walls. For him, it was always a hopeful thought.
As Faramir began the last leg of his journey, he spotted an army approaching from the north. "Who are they?" he thought. "Surely all the enemies of Gondor have already been vanquished! Is there still yet another army vainly fighting for Sauron's reign again? Pity, for Gondor's armies are now stronger than ever, with Aragorn - Aragorn..."
Faramir shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the gnawing memories. "A good battle may be what I need," he said aloud, patting his horse. "I suppose we should ride ahead, boy, and warn Minas Tirith of this coming army, whoever they may be."
He took one last glance at the approaching army, seemingly no closer to him than they were a few minutes ago. He then nudged his horse and they went darting off towards Minas Tirith.
"Open the gates!" yelled a voice from above as Faramir approached the great doors of the citadel. "The Steward has returned!"
A loud creaking echoed through the emptiness of Pelennor Fields as Faramir rode up to the gates. He slowed his horse down and trotted through, the aroma of his home filling him with much needed happiness and comfort.
"My Lord, you have finally returned!" cried a man dressed in grey robes, pushing his way through the throng of people greeting their Steward.
"Beregond!" replied Faramir, thrilled to see his good friend but desperate to tell someone of the army. "Yes, my trip may have run too long but I'm afraid it never could have been long enough. However, other matters lie on our doorstep. As I rode across Pelennor, I saw a large army approaching Minas Tirith from the north. I could not tell who they were, nor can I imagine who they are for I believed all of Gondor's foes have already been defeated and have diminished."
Beregond, to Faramir's surprise, laughed. "True, a large army you may have seen, yet they do not come to Minas Tirith to destroy her! Nay, they are dwarves from the Lonely Mountain, coming to aid the King Elessar in renovating our beautiful city."
"Dwarves? Ah, yes, I remember now."
"It is good that our King has such skilled friends, and many for that matter! Good craftsmen and builders are hard to find in this city, though I'm sure many will emerge
when they find their business being taken over by dwarves!" Beregond chuckled.
"Yes, I hear that the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain have made structures that will take the breath away of even the most hard-hearted of men."
Faramir gently nudged his horse in the direction of the lower stables, and Beregond followed.
"Yes, to see them work in our city will be a wonderful experience. But, tell me, my Lord, how was Rohan!"
Faramir sat quietly at first, concentrating on guiding his horse so not to hit any pedestrians. "Rohan is well. Eomer is a fine king. His people are happy and at peace."
"I heard that LothÃriel of Dol Amroth was also there - to see Eomer, I suppose?"
"She was. Though I did not spend much time with her."
"Too much time, then, spent with the Lady Eowyn?"
Faramir, again, silently rode along. "Nay, never too much time. Never enough," he choked out, for tears began to well up in his eyes again. Afraid and ashamed for Beregond to see him in such a state, he suddenly broke his horse into a trot and quickly left.
The dwarves arrived in the city less than an hour later. Loud and obstinate they appeared to the Gondorians in the first circle, but the jewels and stories of faraway places they brought soon made them loved by all. Beregond escorted them to the highest circle of the city, where King Elessar waited with Gimli, who had come a week earlier before to plan the work to be done so there would be no delays when all the dwarves arrived. Sure enough, the King and Gimli had finished preparations 3 days earlier, and were now reminiscing over their adventures during the War of the Ring over ale and some Longbottom Leaf sent from the Shire.
That evening, a great feast was held in honor of the dwarves. Many of Gondor's finest soldiers and ladies came out to the event, for all were eager to see dwarves and were
excited to see the work they planned to do. Faramir, though, remained in his chambers as the festivities started. Within thirty minutes, a knock was heard at his door.
Faramir remained sitting in his chair by the fire, hoping that his visitor would leave him in peace. However, the knocking persisted and Faramir gave up. He came to his door and opened it, surprised to see Bergil, the son of Beregond.
"My Lord, my father has sent me to inquire on why you have not yet shown up at the celebration the King has given for the dwarves. Do you not wish to visit with us and our guests, or do not feel well?"
Faramir smiled at his young and admirable guest. "Bergil, thank you for your concern, but the ride from Rohan was long and arduous, and though I do not mean to offend anyone, I believe that our guests do not wish to see the Steward of Gondor falling asleep at the table."
Bergil grinned back and said, "Very well, my Lord. Your presence will be missed tonight, but I do not doubt that many more parties will be held while the dwarves are here! They all seem to love food, ale, and merriment!"
"Yes, then I promise to you that I will attend the next one less death prevent me."
"My Lord, then you shall be there, for I believe death will never touch you! But now, I must return to the festivities. Cariel is there, and my friends say that she will be wanting a dance with me!"
"Very good! I would say many young girls of Gondor may want to dance with you. Too quickly have you grown up. Too quickly..."
"Yes, but my father still treats me as a boy. He says women, though beautiful, can also be cruel and heartless."
Faramir's face softened. "Your father is wise. But do not expect all women to be like that. However, they can break hearts."
"I understand, my Lord, but this is only dancing!"
"Yes, of course, only dancing," replied Faramir. "And you are young! Now hurry back, Cariel may be waiting."
Bergil, obviously eager to return, lingered at the door. "Are you sure, my Lord, that you do not want to come with me? It would be fun!"
Faramir smiled with a sigh. How endearing this boy was! "No, but thank you very much Bergil."
"Very well, my Lord! I will see you then at the next one!" he said as he ran down the hall back towards the festivities, leaving Faramir to ponder at the main thoughts contained within him.
A/N: Hmm that was a weirdish chapter. I don't know how much longer I should make it ... I'm thinking of wrapping it up quickly or adding a new dilemma ... what should I do? And how is it so far?