The day that followed made me regret my adventures for at least a thousand times. First of all, Faramir was foolish enough to stay with me for the night, falling asleep in his chair; I, being exhausted by the ordeal, slept soundly until the sun was high in the sky, and no one wanted to disturb me (I guess they were nice people, after all). But later it seemed the Warden wanted to check how my cousin was faring, and, not having found him in his own room, went to look for him in mine. Somehow, we had started to be seen as one, and it gave me a very warm feeling.
Faramir was just stirring from sleep when the Warden boomed over us, "Lord Faramir! I thought at least you would be reasonable enough to take care of your health! But no, you spend the night in a chair instead of bed!"
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to pretend I was not there at all. By that time, I had learned that the Warden's wrath was a short-time thing, but it still could scare me badly, especially if it was the first thing to hear in the morning.
When I risked a glance up, Faramir was stretching his limbs, wincing slightly from the pain he still felt in his shoulder. The Warden sighed and reached for the collar of his tunic.
"Here, let me have a look," he murmured, undoing the laces and starting to prod the injured area. "It looks almost healed, my lord, but must feel a bit tender still. And you certainly should not sleep like this!" he concluded indignantly, pulling the tunic back.
Faramir laughed quietly. "I wonder if you ever talk to your charges like this, Thíri. Must be a healer's prerogative."
I ventured a chuckle too.
The Warden appeared untouched by our mirth. "I can see you are feeling a lot better, young lady. Consider getting out of that bed and make yourself useful if you please!"
When he was out, Faramir gave an audible sigh of relief. "I have always been a bit in awe of the man," he confessed. "I know, of course, that he means well and does not really feel angry, but I cannot help it. But then, it was the same even with Father, and I have been Steward for mere days!"
"He is right, by the way," I said. "You should not have stayed here like that. You must be feeling stiff all over."
"Oh no," he groaned. "Two healers in one morning… "
All the people I met considered their sacred duty to point out to me my extreme foolishness and childishness; that all was of course true, but I was fed up indeed by lunchtime.
I found Éowyn sprawled across the bed, eyeing the ceiling with the air of extreme thoughtfulness. I had to call her name twice before she heeded me.
"What is it that occupies your thoughts so much?" I enquired, placing the tray with food onto the small table and sitting down at her side.
To my intense surprise, she blushed and produced an uncertain laugh.
"Oh…nothing much," she said unconvincingly. "What have you brought today?"
"Food," I said.
"Indeed," she snorted.
"Éowyn, there is a war going on, in case you have not noticed," I laughed. "You seem most distracted today."
She sat up and embraced me, smiling. "I shall eat whatever you have brought, Thíri. I am hungry, by the way."
As she was emptying the bowl of soup, I could not help but think of the pale young creature I met days before. The one beside me was so different you would not recognise her as the same person. Her face was round and rosy, and she had gained weight, but the biggest change happened to her eyes. They were no longer hollow and empty; they gleamed with health and vigour and…something else.
There was a sudden rap at the door.
"Éowyn?"
There was my cousin, carrying a pile of books. I noted the way he addressed her.
"Éowyn?" I said with mock surprise. "You forget yourself, Lord Faramir."
Éowyn laughed, blushing again. "It is all right, Thíri, we agreed on calling each other our given names."
Faramir just nodded. "I came to show Éowyn some books I told her about, she seemed interested to hear more of them… Do you want to stay here?"
"No," Éowyn got to her feet resolutely. "Let us go outside. Would you like to accompany us, Thíri?"
It cost me an enormous effort not to laugh at my cousin's expression. I was quite sure he would do something terrible to me if I agreed.
"No, Éowyn, I fear I have work to do," I said. "Do you want me to help you with your cloak?"
Apparently, she did not.
Once in the hallway with Faramir, I nudged him in the ribs.
"Books! Cousin, you are a dear. She will think you are a poor fighter and want to protect you, eventually. That is a clever move."
"I am not a poor fighter," he protested. "Thíri, I must point it out to you that I am your elder and your liege until the King returns. You do not seem to show me much respect, though. Teasing the Steward of Gondor!"
All the way through this rebuke, he was hugging me tightly to himself, smiling. I sighed, leaning lightly on him. It pained me to think of all the blows he had had to endure, and I wished fervently, with all my heart, that he had more moments like these ones…
Then I remembered who it was that Éowyn loved. I knew that I would rather have died than revealed any of her words to him, for the sakes of both of them. Éowyn obviously liked him; might even love him in time; but once she was reminded of her unrequited feeling to the future King, she could withdraw again, become cold and distant, and suffer as she did once.
And Faramir…
There was still pain in his eyes when he thought of his family, lost in the terrors of the war, but there was hope, too, now that he had another to take care of…
The door burst open, and Éowyn practically ran out, bumping into Faramir as she did so. She gasped and touched his arm hesitantly.
"I have not hurt you, have I?" she gasped.
"No," my cousin smiled, letting go of me. "Shall we go?"
With a very insincerely apologetic smile to me, he led her away.
As I watched them, someone took hold of my hand. I looked there and saw Merry, grinning at the two down the hallway. I pressed his fingers with mine.
"They are very fond of each other, are they not?" he said softly.
"My cousin is, definitely," I replied.
Merry's grin grew wider. "She is, too. Just give her time."
I turned to face him. "Merry," I said gravely, "I bet you a keg of ale they will kiss not later than tomorrow."
He looked genuinely puzzled. "Why do you think so?"
"She bumped into him when she was leaving the room," I explained. "In my experience, people who do so eventually kiss."
It was cold.
For the past two or three days, we stopped lighting fires in the rooms; it had been quite warm. But on that day, the cold wind was blowing, and it was darker that usual.
I went to check on the children, and found them very quiet and frightened. After chatting to them with false cheer, I felt drained of all strength. Pretending was a difficult job, and if not for Merry, who agreed to sing every single song he knew, they would hardly have agreed to eat their meals.
Having finished with the children, quite a bit later than usual, I fetched a tray with food and rushed to Éowyn's room. There I found her, fully dressed, wrapped in a long warm brown cloak.
Forestalling my questions, she shook her head.
"No, Thíri, I am not hungry," she said. "I am going for a walk."
The look on her face suggested an appointment with some errant Ringwraith, rather than something that peaceful.
"Will you not be waiting for Faramir?" I asked tentatively.
She shot me a sharp glance, then sighed and lowered herself into a chair, looking at her feet. She sighed and rubbed her brow with her palm; I had noticed her do that before, when she was in search for words.
"Do you love your cousin, Thíri?" she asked.
The question was very unexpected.
"But of course I do!" I exclaimed. "How could I not to! Yes, I know that sometimes I am a selfish girl, and the thing I said to him… well, you know, it was horrible and I have not forgiven myself for doing that and will not for some time, but I love him. He is the only family I have here…"
"Exactly!" she cried. "There is no one else for you to love, so you chose him, because he was the only one near… You said once you did not care for either of your cousins much when you lived in Dol Amroth and they came to visit, did you not?"
"Éowyn, wait," I raised my hand to stop her and was amused to use a gesture borrowed from Faramir. "That did not happen because they were undeserving or something. I was simply much younger than they were, and they never seemed to take me seriously, and cousin Boromir, I regret to say this, but he looked slightly annoyed every time I interrupted a conversation…that made me quite mad. Now, when I learned that Faramir was here, I did not know what to do at first, how to talk to him, but later, as I knew him better… I do realise it was partly due to my wish to have someone from my family near, but it is also Faramir, what he is, that made me want to be closer to him."
She covered her eyes with her hand, leaning forward.
"Éowyn…" I touched her shoulder lightly, "do you…"
She jumped to her feet and pressed her palm to my lips, preventing any other words from escaping.
"Please, do not," she whispered, then turned abruptly and was gone.
I sat numbly on her bed, until Faramir came, carrying a big bundle. His eyes were gleaming.
"Thíri?" he said, surprised. "Where is Éowyn?"
"She left," I said, not wanting to even try to explain her motives. "Must be in the gardens."
Faramir looked about him with the air of utmost conspiracy. "Look," he whispered, unfolding the bundle.
I gasped to see what was inside. Aunt Finduilas's mantle! Not that I remembered my aunt, but I had heard endless stories of that garment and until that moment I did not know rightly if it had been a betrothal gift, or a gift on the occasion on one of my cousins' birth, or just a gift. One thing I could be sure of: Uncle Denethor had certainly had his moments, and the evidence of one of them was here before my eyes.
I stroked the soft fabric, which seemed to still preserve the warmth of her last owner and…and of the love that gave her the mantle. I suddenly felt very sad. I guessed what Faramir was going to do, and it pained me to think of his father, who once gifted his beloved with this, and then lost her. For the first time, my uncle was to me not the Steward of Gondor (I still had difficulties seeing Faramir in that position), not a stern old man, not my father's old friend, but a soul who could love another…
It pained me to think of Faramir, whose heart was so utterly lost to another lovely lady, and that lady could also become but a shadow to him…
But then, it could be not so hopeless. Perhaps Faramir saw it all more clearly. Perhaps he could make her see it with the same clarity. Make her see him, and herself, too.
"Do you think she will like it?" Faramir asked.
I forced myself to smile. "She will be a fool not to. But you had better go to her now. She might be quite cold."
When he left, I could not stand still for a moment, or do anything, for that matter. After a few minutes of pacing the hallway restlessly, I followed him into the gardens.
They were on the walls, looking out. Faramir's hands rested on Éowyn's shoulders, and she wore the mantle. I sighed with relief; I had feared she might decline the gift. She was holding the cloak under her throat, to ward off the chill that was seeping into my body as well.
She pointed out eastwards and asked something. Faramir flinched, as if in pain, but answered her, speaking first calmly, and then with a tender smile on his lips.
She turned to him, eyeing him very gravely, her face kind but sorrowful. She spoke too, shaking her head as she did, and Faramir was just about to say something, when suddenly the wind died down, and for a long moment all was shrouded in a dreary silence.
I fell to my knees; I was chilled to the bone, frozen with fear; my heart beat slowly and steadily, but every beat seemed to echo through all my body. I clasped my hands together tightly, striving to keep the little warmth that was still in me; strangely enough, my hands, which usually went cold first, were now the only source of heat.
I looked at Faramir and Éowyn. To my surprise, they were standing very close to each other, and they were holding hands. Both their faces were white as death, eyes wide open; Éowyn's hair, flowing on the wind a mere minute before, now hung loosely down her slender figure. Suddenly, I was aware of a great wave of darkness towering up in the East; I shut my eyes in terror, once again wishing to be far, far away from all this…
When I opened my eyes again, I nearly wept for joy, for there were they, still standing on the wall, and Éowyn's head was on Faramir's shoulder, and his arms were around her, and then he stooped and kissed her brow.
And I knew that, for me, the joyous song brought by the Eagles minutes later was far less the symbol of victory than these two, standing as one, defying the darkness together, in a great swirl of light and wind that mingled their hair and sent it streaming in the air.
"I am leaving the Houses, Thíri."
The voice was very steady and calm, and still it made my heart tighten painfully in my chest.
"But, Faramir, why?"
He smiled ruefully. "I am the Steward, remember? The King is returning, and I have to make all the necessary preparations. I have tarried here too long, I think."
He sounded…hollow. Empty of all feelings, hurt to the point when you stop bothering. I stared at him, unbelieving, at the same man who radiated such happiness back there on the walls…
As he prepared to leave, I caught his arm, finally able to act.
"Faramir, what happened?"
He looked long into my eyes, then sighed. "I think you deserve an explanation, Thíri. Fine. I shall give you that. She does not need me, or want me. She said that much to me. Oh, no, not in these words, of course, but I understood. I have tried and failed."
I looked at him, terribly at a loss for words.
He took a step forward and embraced me.
"Take care of yourself, cousin," he whispered. "I…I do not think I shall visit you here soon. Thank you for all you have done for me."
I held him as tightly as I could, feeling tears slowly course down my cheeks. He noticed them when he pulled away and gently wiped them.
"Do not weep, Thíri," he said. "We have been through harder times, have we not?"
I felt strange pride at this 'we', and smiled weakly.
"I love you, my little Thíri," he said, kissing me on the cheek.
"I love you too," I said, returning the kiss.
But that is not enough, I sighed when he left.
TBC
Well, not as cheerful as I planned it, but I am a bit sad myself, so it took its effect on the story. But all of this is coming to an end!
Thank you for reviewing!