Éowyn watched as Faramir and Pelatarn began battling. Moments passed before she remembered Faramir's command. Running into the Hall, she was determined to find Éomer and Lothiriel. She did not have to look far.

Lothiriel was the first to see her. "Éowyn! What are you doing here?"

The Lady of Ithilien ran up to her brother and grabbed his arm. "Please, brother, you must help him!"

Éomer looked at his sister's tear-streaked face before closing his eyes. How could he tell her about her beloved husband. "Éowyn, I must tell you…"

Éowyn tugged on his arm, this time harder. "No! You must go help Faramir!"

Lothiriel bit her lip. "Éowyn, Faramir…has fallen into darkness." Éomer lowered his head, ashamed that he hadn't saved his brother-by-marriage.

"He is not fallen anymore!" Éomer's head jerked up and he looked wide-eyed at his sister. "He is fighting Pelatarn before the Hall, but he will not let me help. Please, 'mer, help him!"

Éowyn had barely finished speaking before Éomer took off towards the entrance of the Hall. She quickly followed, Lothiriel behind her. The Lady of Dol Amroth felt a glimmer of hope. 'Please do not let us be too late.'

Éomer barely noticed Lothiriel and his sister following him, so determined was he to make it to Faramir. Even if Éowyn spoke falsely from grief, still he could avenge Faramir and the lives Pelatarn had destroyed. Éomer flung open the doors just in time to see Faramir run Pelatarn through with his sword.

All at once, a huge, black wind picked up, swirling around the dying necromancer. Éomer fell to his hands and knees from the force and behind him Lothiriel and Éowyn forced close the large doors of the Hall. The king of Rohan struggled to his feet as Pelatarn gave an inhuman shriek and the wind wildly pulsated around them. "Faramir!" Éomer saw that the Steward's hands were still on the hilt of the sword, the black wind holding him captive. Though he didn't know what might happen, Éomer felt in his heart that Faramir was in danger. Pushing through the wind, Éomer rushed at the Steward and tackled him the ground.

Suddenly, the black wind gathered around Pelatarn and squeezed, crushing the man before the wind exploded with a force that shoved Éomer and Faramir off the steps, landing some feet below on the hard earth. The explosion ripped through the city and across the plains, flattening all people to the ground, yet seeming not to touch the houses and walls of the city. Yet just as soon as the wind picked up, it disappeared. All that was left of Pelatarn was two withered hands, one whole, the other cloven in half.


Lothiriel picked herself up off the floor of the main hall. Shaking her head, she helped Éowyn to her feet before opening Meduseld's doors. Her stomach twisted when she saw no one, not Pelatarn, not Faramir…not Éomer.

Éowyn stepped past her out into the sun. "Faramir! Faramir!" Lothiriel joined her call. "Faramir, Éomer!"

The only reply was a groan from below the terrace. The women raced down the steps to find Éomer and Faramir lying on the ground, both heart-stoppingly still. Éowyn knelt by her husband's side while Lothiriel found herself running to Éomer instead of her cousin. "Éomer, are you alright?"

The king of Rohan groaned again, but opened his eyes. He smiled at Lothiriel. "Hwæt, Beorhtéage." Before she could ask what he had said, Éomer sat straight up, the smile slipping from his face. "Faramir!" Both turned to see Éowyn kneeling over her husband, whispering his name.

"Wake up, Faramir. Please, open your eyes." Éowyn nearly sobbed in relief when the Steward's eyelashes fluttered open. "Faramir, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Faramir smiled softly at his beloved wife. He lifted a shaking hand and brushed a tear off her face. "Forgive me. I love you."

Éowyn caught his hand and held it to her cheek. "There is nothing to forgive. I just love you so much, Faramir."

Faramir only sighed. "Min léof." Éowyn felt his hand go limp and her chest tightened as his eyes closed.

"Faramir. Faramir!"

Éomer and Lothiriel, who had watched the exchange, quickly came over to her. Lothiriel's face paled at the sight of Faramir struggling for breath. "Éomer, his injuries…"

Éowyn looked at them. "What injuries? How was he injured?"

The king's face was grim, but he didn't answer her. "He needs a healer, quickly. Lothiriel…" A tiny gasp made him whirl around. Two children, an older boy and younger girl, were standing behind him.

Lothiriel's eyes widened. "Fréaláf, Sigel! What are you doing here?"

They didn't get a chance to answer, for an idea had come to Éomer. "You, boy." Fréaláf stepped forward hesitantly. "Your name is Fréaláf?" He nodded. "I need you to run down to the fields and bring back King Elessar. Tell him his brother is badly injured. Can you do that?" Another nod. "Good, now go!" Fréaláf ran off at top speed while Éomer turned back to Faramir. "We need to get him inside. Lothiriel?"

"One moment." The Lady of Dol Amroth leaned over to be eye-level with Sigel. "Sigel, can you find your way home?" The girl nodded. "Alright, you need to go straight home and stay there. I am sure your mother told you to anyway, am I right?" Tears welled in the child's eyes and Lothiriel couldn't help but give her a hug. "Please, go now. I need to help my cousin. Alright?" In response, Sigel turned and headed towards home.

Éomer gently lifted his brother-by-law. "Lothiriel, take his other side. 'wyn, we will need your help with the doors." Together they made it inside the Golden Hall and heading to the bedrooms on the sides of the Hall.


The king made to take Faramir into one of the rooms, but Éowyn stopped him. "Not this one, please."

Éomer paused for a moment, and nodded. "You are right. Here, this way." Reaching another room, Éowyn opened the door to what was obviously the bedroom for the king of Rohan. While Lothiriel and Éomer gently laid Faramir on the bed, Éowyn shakily lit the torches before joining them by Faramir's side.

The Steward was obviously in pain, though still unconscious. Lothiriel shook her head. "We need to get that tunic off him." Éomer agreed, but instead of trying to help Faramir out of the tunic as Éowyn had expected, he pulled out the dagger that Faramir had given him the day before. The king carefully cut the tunic so that it could be gently lifted off the Steward without aggravating his wounds.

For the first time, Éowyn saw what had happened to her husband and felt sick to her stomach. Faramir's chest was covered in bruises, which stood out harshly against his deathly pale skin. When Éomer turned him on his side to relieve the pressure on his injuries Éowyn gasped at the sight of her husband's shredded back. 'Oh Valar!' Faramir groaned and Éowyn thought her heart would burst. 'Aragorn, please hurry!'


King Aragorn wiped the gore off of Andúril and grimaced at the sight of the dead around him. Some of his men were still picking themselves up off the ground after the black wind had knocked them all down. But none of the undead soldiers they had fought rose, for which Aragorn was incredibly thankful. Fighting the bodies of his friends and comrades was something he would never forget.

The twins walked up to his sides and he knew his brothers felt the same way. Aragorn stared at the ground. "I knew some of these men. I fought beside them at Helm's Deep, they were good men. They did not deserve this."

Elladan put a hand on his little brother's shoulder. "No they did not. But now, Edoras is free and we can properly bury these men yet again."

Prince Imrahil and Elfhelm came up to the brothers. The Prince nodded his head in respect. "My lord, I am glad to give you the news that very few of our men, Rohirrim or Gondorian, have been lost. It did seem that especially near the end, the undead did not fight as well, which certainly aided this."

Aragorn breathed deeply. "I am glad. Let us hope the casualties inside Edoras are no higher."

"My lord, there is someone coming from the city!" Aragorn looked to where the soldier pointed. A child had just left the gate of the city and was running towards them.

The king of Gondor looked at his brothers and the Captains, before heading towards the child, a young boy. The boy arrived, out of breath and panting. "Need…to find…King Elessar."

Aragorn stepped forward. "I am he. Do you have a message from Edoras?"

The boy straightened up, and tried to catch his breath. "Yes, my lord. My name…is Fréaláf. Éomer King told me…to bring you back…to the city. It's… urgent."

"Did he say why?"

Fréaláf nodded. "He said, my lord…that your brother is… badly injured."

Aragorn hissed through his teeth while the twins shared a worried look. The king turned to the others. "Imrahil, Elfhelm, stay here with the men, help with the injured. And watch over Fréaláf here, he deserves some rest." With that, Aragorn mounted his horse and headed to Edoras, followed closely by the twins. 'Do not let us be too late.'


Éowyn met the king of Gondor as he entered the Golden Hall. "Thank the Valar you are here, my lord."

"We came as quickly as possible. Where is Tir?"

"He is in the King's bedroom, down that hall." She paused. "We?"

As Aragorn began moving down the hall, Éowyn heard a voice behind her. "He means us, Éowyn." She turned to see the twins. Elrohir quickly followed Aragorn at a near run, and Elladan walked with Éowyn towards the room. "How bad are his wounds"

Éowyn sighed. "They are bad, Elladan. I do not even know how bad, I think only Éomer knows. No one told me anything." Tears came again. "They did not tell me." As Éowyn sobbed, all Elladan could do was embrace her and let his sister-by-marriage cry.

Aragorn flew into the bedroom, startling Éomer and Lothiriel who were trying to stop the bleeding from Faramir's back. Seeing his little brother's lacerated back, the blood seeping onto the white sheets, turned the king's stomach. "Valar!" Aragorn heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and knew Elrohir was there.

Éomer stood and bowed his head slightly. "Lord Aragorn, please. Help him." The king of Rohan's eyes showed the two sons of Elrond the depth of what had happened to these men as captives.

Elrohir and Aragorn joined Lothiriel at Faramir's bedside. Aragorn looked at his fellow king. "Lord Éomer, tell us what happened."