"Hey! Wake up, Thíri!"
I did not want to. I mumbled something and turned onto my side.
"Thíri, you must get out of my bed. If anyone sees you here…"
A hand shook me by the shoulder. I groaned angrily and gave that someone a push with my elbow.
A hushed yelp of pain followed, and suddenly I was wide-awake, on a bed beside Faramir, whose face was a grimace of pain.
He slowly pushed himself up on his elbows, his left hand on his right shoulder.
"Whoever told you that you could be a healer, I wonder," he hissed. "Or is it your new friendship with that shieldmaiden?"
"Faramir!" I exclaimed, on the floor in a split second. "Has it opened? Let me have a look, now!"
"You, young lady? I guess, one more round of your gentle touches, and I shall be bleeding to my death."
I stood there in dismay that could not be put in words, tears forming in my eyes. "Then… then I shall go and find someone… oh, Faramir, I am so sorry…" I put my hand over my face, struggling desperately not to burst into tears.
Quite unexpectedly, he gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, Thíri, it is I who must beg for your forgiveness. I was just jesting, all right? I am fine, it was not that bad."
"Truly?" I gasped. "You… you are not bleeding?"
"Truly," he smiled, reaching his arm towards me.
I hit him on the hand in indignation. "You… you… oh, I wish I had pushed you harder."
"No, you do not. You are too good and gentle for that."
"I must then ask Éowyn to teach me how to be tougher," I grumbled.
"You know, Thíri, as your older cousin and Steward, I feel an inclination to forbid all your interaction with that lady. She is being a bad influence on you. I quite dislike her already, not even having seen her!"
"Well, wait until you do, cousin," I grinned. "You might come to like her. She is a beauty."
"Oh, is she? Not a matron seven feet tall with huge hands and feet? Did you not tell me she had beaten the Witch King of Angmar?"
"Yes, but that does not mean she is the size of a statue in the Great Hall! In fact, the one who helped her was even smaller. A Halfling."
"A Halfling?" He looked startled.
I told him all I knew of Éowyn's adventures. Gradually, he became serious. "Poor girl, that must have been hard on her. I suggest you go and keep her company after you eat your breakfast."
I nodded. "I was going to do just that, but not before I fetch you yours."
"Thank you, Thíri, but that is not necessary. Yesterday, Pippin came to see me, and today he is coming to eat with me. Poor soul, he must have been so distraught at all this… Now I remember him telling me something about his cousin, wounded in battle. Has to be your Éowyn's friend."
I prepared to leave, when he called to me again, "Thíri?"
I turned around. "Yes?"
"Is she truly that beautiful?"
"Have you not heard? But," I added mischievously, "I will be certain to pass to her your words about huge hands and feet. She will surely find it amusing."
With the sweetest of my smiles, I left.
Éowyn was with her brother, which made me momentarily uneasy. My lavender dress was still drying after our encounter of the day before and my walk in the rain. However, I promptly collected my wits and gave him another of my sweet smiles.
"A good morning to you both," I said. "Feeling better, Éowyn? How is your arm today? And you, my lord? You do not find our hallways too dark, do you? It is so easy to stumble over something there, especially if the thing is small and hard to notice."
He blushed to the roots of his hair. Éowyn seemed to be taking great efforts to stifle her laughter. She was pale still, I noted, but not with the deadly whiteness of the day before; there was still deep sadness in her eyes, but that at least was some emotion, not the emptiness that had frightened me so.
She gave him an amused glance, which was also very commanding. I chuckled inwardly at the pleading expression in his eyes.
"Thank you, Thíri, I am much better, see?" she lifted her hand to the level of her eyes, then balled it into a fist, a loose one, but it was better than the feeble movements she could manage before. "I am trying to exercise it as much as I can."
"Do not overdo it, sister," her brother said.
"I am not overdoing anything," she snapped. "I am not going to stay in this cursed bed for much longer!"
He was not beaten that easily. "The healers told me you had to stay there for ten days, which means eight more, not counting this one."
"Impressive," she yawned. "How well you deal with numbers."
"Éowyn!" he roared.
She shot him a look which might have set the whole room on fire. "I am going to do what I find necessary, Éomer, and you will not be in my way! Too long have I been just another decoration in the Golden Hall!"
"You are driving me mad, woman," he sighed. "I had better leave now, before we both start saying things we may regret."
With that, he turned on his heels and was gone.
"Woman!" she snorted. "Were I not one, to whom would it fall to settle matters with that black apparition?"
The remembrance was clearly not very frightening for her any longer.
"You were too harsh with him, Éowyn," I started hesitantly. "He did sound concerned about your well-being."
"I know I was," she groaned. "Oh, Thíri… sometimes I hate myself, I am so mean and ungrateful… I do love him, so much, now that there is no one left…" She hung her head helplessly and whispered, "Truly no one…"
She sat still for a moment, then continued, "Thíri, I… I cannot stand being confined. There are things… I cannot bring myself to tell you of them… but believe me, every time I see someone leave me, bid me farewell, it all rushes upon me, and I am so scared I cannot move or think, and all I want is to be outside, to feel the wind, and the sun, and the smell of fresh air… Thíri, for years my brother and my cousin would ride off, leaving me to keep my Uncle company, and… and…" She shivered violently, her eyes almost black with fury, and fear, and disgust… Surely all this could not come form her memories of her uncle the King? She spoke of him rather fondly. There must have been something else.
I first wanted to ask her about it, but changed my mind. All this rush of emotions was already too much for her healing body; as to her soul, I now started to suspect that she still had a long way to go.
"Here, lie down," I whispered soothingly. "It will do you no good, worrying so. If you want to rise from this bed, you will need to gain more strength, and how will that be possible if you torture yourself so? Besides," I forced a grin, "you will need to look good, too. For me."
She looked surprised. "For you, Thíri?"
"Yes. You see, my cousin, who is also here, thinks – from the description of your valiant battle with the Captain of Ringwraiths – that you must be a huge woman with big hands and feet. Will it not be a real pleasure to shame him?"
She finally smiled. "A worthy cause. I cannot wait to give your cousin a piece of my mind. Was he in the battle, too?"
I did not want to go deep into the reasons for Faramir's wound, so I simply nodded.
When I finally took my leave of Éowyn (having first made certain she ate her breakfast and taken the brew that was supposed to calm her a bit), I saw that Éomer was still lingering in the hallway, looking rather miserable.
"How is she?" he rushed to me. "Is she better? I am so concerned about her…"
"She will be fine, eventually," I tried to soothe him. "Why do you not go and try to talk to her again?"
He gave a short and bitter laugh. "Everything I say seems only to anger her. I… I do not understand. We have ever been so close… have not had many people to turn to of late. Now she is so… different. Gandalf has said something to me before Aragorn healed her, but I must confess I was not really listening, I feared so to…" there was a slight catch in his voice, "to… lose her, too."
"Fighting the Witch King was not a task so easy," I said. "Perhaps she is plagued by the memories still."
"Perhaps," he sighed. "And perhaps it is because she is not yet over… but I am certain you do not want to listen to all of this. You must be burdened enough, with the war going on, your family leaving, all the duties here…"
"But among my duties here is a duty to help her heal, too," I said softly.
Suddenly he gave me a smile of such warmth and gratitude that it went to my very heart. "You already have, my lady. When I was going to visit Éowyn today, I expected to find her in the same stupor she was yesterday, and yet I found her trying to brush her hair by herself and cursing like mad… never heard anything sweeter! First thing she said was, 'Thíri could do it a lot better', and then she told me of your kindness to her, and how you made her laugh… I cannot say how grateful I am. I am forever in your debt, my lady."
I gave him a slight bow. "It was a pleasure, my lord."
"Was it?" he grinned. "I bet that after I bumped into you, you did not expect anything good from a sister of such a boorish fellow. I… I did not hurt you, did I?"
"No, it was just my dress that suffered," I laughed. "Which is even worse," I added with a mock frown, "for garments are sparse at this time."
He laughed too, and I suddenly felt amazingly at ease with him. Not like I was with Faramir, nor with my brothers; I could not put this feeling in words even to myself.
A bit confused, I asked, "Are you riding with the armies too?"
He sighed again. "Yes. Riding to my doom, likeliest of all. I would not like to part with Éowyn like this; these could well be our last hours together…"
"Then go to her."
"She will simply bark at me again," he said miserably.
"Are you afraid, my lord? Of a mere woman?" I teased.
"If the woman is my sister, yes," he replied gloomily.
My father and Elphir came to bid me farewell late at night. I was sitting with Faramir, in silence; having tried dutifully to make some cheerful conversation, we were finally tired of the efforts and just sat together by the window. Faramir was out of bed by now, in a big chair, with a blanket draped over his shoulders; I was sitting on the windowsill, one cheek pressed against the wall, staring unseeingly outside.
Faramir had had quite a load of visitors. First Pippin and Merry (Éowyn's little friend), then Beregond, a Guard of the White Tower who seemed very devoted to my cousin, with his son. This one was clearly not at his ease, as if he strived not to give out something which was very hard to conceal. Faramir had noticed and tried to question him about it, but Beregond began to look truly miserable, and my cousin decided to let the matter be; he hated to distress anyone.
Last of all, came Aragorn; he once again voiced his trust in my cousin and charged him with running the City while he was away. He still looked extremely weary and sad.
"I do not even know if what we are doing is right, Faramir," he confessed. "I am leading these men to their death. It is not very hard to risk your own life, but if you know other lives will be spent at your will… I think I should have made it all voluntary."
Faramir was silent. By the trembling of his hands, I guessed that he was reliving the hopeless battle his father had thrown him into. Aragorn seemed to have understood that, too, for he suddenly reached for his hands and enclosed them within his own palms.
"You are not to blame for that, Faramir," he said very softly.
Faramir nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. One of them rolled down his cheek, leaving a shiny streak in its wake. Aragorn sighed and pulled him into a gentle embrace, mindful all the time of his healing shoulder.
"You must live through this, my friend," he whispered. "Not for me, not even for yourself… you know it."
Faramir nodded again and met his eyes quite calmly and confidently. "I will."
I was once again remembering the conversation when Faramir's voice broke into my thoughts, "Thíri, I want you to promise me something."
I smiled faintly. "If it is not about sitting on the floor. I love that, you know."
"No," his tone was very grave. "It concerns your family."
"My family?"
"Yes, Thíri. Now, I want you to listen to me. You must be kind to them… let them see you strong and understanding, not a whimsical child. It matters a lot how you bid farewell to your loved ones, especially if you are not certain that you will see them again. In fact… you should always think that, one day, you will be parted from them… and if you are left with bitter feelings, they will haunt you your whole life."
"I… I p…promise, Faramir," I stuttered.
"Good. It is for your own good, cousin."
We did not speak again until my father came with Elphir. Until this day, I do not know how I managed to hold back my tears; I smiled bravely as I kissed them both and even managed to jest a bit, though I did not remember it a minute later. I was conscious of Faramir's eyes on me, all the way, compassionate and encouraging; I knew this parting was as hard on him, given the losses he had endured, and it struck me that now we had only each other to hold on to.
Finally, it was time for them to go; they needed a good sleep before the march, which I doubted they could get anyway. When they left, after last embraces, I found myself standing helplessly in the middle of the room, until again Faramir spoke, "Go after them, Thíri. Go, if you want to. See them off."
I ran out, along the hallway, only to see they were already gone. I heaved an exasperated groan.
"My lady Lothíriel?"
I nearly jumped, than turned around and saw Éomer. He must have just bidden farewell to his sister and was now headed to the camp.
A long while we looked at each other; I was breathless, as near to tears as never before, snatches of thoughts rushing through my head… and he looked very sad, though determined.
Gradually, his eyes softened with a strange expression.
"I can see you have just saw your family off, my lady," he said.
I nodded. My chest hurt awfully, so I could only gasp out, "They are gone…and my other two brothers are fighting too…"
He smiled. "This is not the way you part with warriors, lady. I have just left behind an angry and sad sister… but I think we both deserve a more fitting farewell."
With that, he suddenly grabbed my chin, his other hand wrapping tightly around my waist, and pressed his lips to mine in a fierce, almost violent kiss.
TBC
Thank you so much for your reviews, guys! They are a great incentive to write as fast as my clumsy fingertips would allow me.
Raksha the Demon: I didn't really think much of Beregond :( but I guess he's just somewhere there in the background. Maybe he takes up Thiri's place when she is breaking things elsewhere :)