Lothíriel
"My lord," I purred from the doorway, seeing that Éomer had stepped into the garden and was enjoying the clear evening.
He turned abruptly to face me. "My lady, I have been waiting for you," he replied, bowing before he held his hand out to me. I swept forward and placed my hand in his larger one, feeling its warmth as it gently closed around mine. But I saw naught but his alluring face, his expression tender, his eyes warm as they searched mine. Without breaking eye contact, he bent and kissed my hand. He rose, and then, in a voice that sent a thrill through me, he said, "I had a very good time today."
"As did I," I murmured, enthralled by his tone.
He smiled at me, and I laughed when he said, "We should go swimming more often."
"Perhaps, though I know now that I should have called back to you so you would have known that I was all right."
He nodded. "Yes, you should have. I shall never live this day down, but I find that the reward far exceeds the savage beating that my pride has received."
"I should not have told the men who you were."
"No, you should not have, though I deem they might have known me anyway."
"Lord Éomer, would you ride with me yet a third time on the morrow?"
"I would indeed if you think your mount is up to it," he replied, smiling broadly.
His smile was magical, I thought, but I could not help but narrow my eyes at him and ask, "Is yours?"
"Firefoot is always ready, my lady."
"Then shall we break our fast together again?"
His expression intensified, and he took a step closer to me. "I would like that very much."
His brown eyes were so beautiful that I felt as if I could fall into them and drown happily. I could feel his breath upon my face as he came closer and closer. Just as I closed my eyes, preparing to succumb to the lure of his lips, there was the sound of a throat being cleared behind me.
I whirled as Éomer pulled back, looking almost embarrassed. "Daddy!"
"Forgive me, Thíri, Éomer. I was only seeking a breath of fresh air. I did not realize that the garden was already occupied."
"No matter," I heard Éomer say from behind me. "We had concluded our business anyway, Imrahil."
Business? But when I turned to face him, his expression was yet tender and loving . . . and regretful.
He spoke further. "I shall see you on the morrow then, Lady Lothíriel, say, at dawn?"
I nodded, unable to speak, so frustrated was I by my father's interruption, but I squeezed Lord Éomer's hand in farewell, and, after casting a glare toward Daddy, I departed the garden to thank Fara and Éowyn for dinner. It was rather odd, but I thought that I saw a look pass between the two men before I left. I could have sworn that I saw Daddy wink at Éomer, and the king, in turn, smiled at my father, but it might have just been my imagination.
Éowyn
I had fled the dining hall, unable to stand my husband's never-ending obsession with "his son" any longer. The toast he had made had been the deciding factor, as he spoke of the babe as "his dearest treasure." I had made it plain that I had not wished for any more of his company, and I had retired to my bedchamber, glad for the silence there.
Ever since he had returned that afternoon from visiting with Mablung, Damrod and Madach, he had spoken about naught but the babe, and though I felt selfish to deny him his obvious pleasure, I could not suffer it any longer that day. But my feeling of annoyance at the endless gushing over his heir and the accompanying guilt for feeling the need to shun my husband's company was beginning to overshadow my loving feelings toward this unborn child. Now my head was pounding, and I knew that I needed to rest. As I lay down upon the bed, I wondered at my unnatural feelings. I loved Faramir with all of my heart, but I suddenly felt as if he were smothering me.
My main trouble was simply that I was scared to have this baby, though it was something that I would never admit aloud for fear of seeming weak. I knew naught about babies other than they needed to be fed and diapered often. But there was no one in whom I felt I could confide, and I had only felt this alone one other time in my life, when Éomer had been banished from Edoras by Théoden-King, who was under the influence of Grima Wormtongue's evil magic.
When at last I dozed, I slept fitfully, having strange, dark dreams that left me feeling hollow and frightened, until at last I awakened bathed in a cold sweat, calling out for Faramir in the night. It was late, for he had obviously been sleeping soundly, but he soothed me with soft words and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his warmth, and I was safe once more.
Faramir
"Good morning, Éowyn," I purred into my sleeping wife's ear, hoping that she was no longer wroth with me. She stirred slightly with a faint moan and turned onto her side away from me. "My lady, it grows late. Will you not rise and break your fast with me?"
Éowyn said naught for a moment, and I thought that perhaps she had returned to her slumber, but then she sighed and turned abruptly onto her back again, looking up at me sitting next to her as I twisted a tendril of her shining hair around my fingers. "I am not hungry, Faramir."
Never could I remember her not being hungry in the morning, and I know that my concern was evident upon my face. She grinned wearily at my expression and reached up, placing her hand upon my cheek. "I shall rise with you, my lord. Fear not."
"But I do fear, my love. Would you sleep longer?"
"Nay, Faramir," she said, sitting up next to me. I thought that she looked more pale and tired than usual but said naught of it.
"Do you wish to dine within our bedchamber this morning, my lady?"
Her voice took on a sharp edge, and she turned a hard gaze upon me. "Faramir, I am not an invalid. I am quite capable of going to the dining hall to break my fast." I remained silent, unwilling to annoy her further with my bumbling words. Rising from the bed, I found my dressing gown, draping it over my left shoulder and then deftly sliding my right arm into the sleeve. I had much practice now doing things one-handed since I had returned home as I did not possess the patience to have someone aid me with everything that I needed to have done for myself.
I crossed to Éowyn's side of the bed, holding her dressing gown for her as she donned it. She murmured her thanks, and I offered her my right arm to her, intending to escort her downstairs, but she hesitated. I opened my mouth to apologize to her, thinking her yet annoyed by me, but then suddenly all color fled her face, and she was running toward the unused wash basin upon its stand. Just as she reached it, she retched into it. Without a word I came to stand behind her, supporting her as best as I could against my body as I pulled her unbound hair away from her face with my right hand, murmuring endearments to her, wishing that there was more I could do for her.
Finally, when she had finished, I sank onto one knee behind her and offered her my right leg as a seat. She gratefully descended upon it, and I held her shivering form within the circle of my arm as she rested her head upon my shoulder. "Éowyn?" I ventured.
"I told you that I was not particularly hungry," she joked feebly. We remained that way for some minutes before she was evidently feeling well enough to stand. I stood, too, and suggested that she return to our bed as she clung to my arm for a moment. "Nay, Faramir. I am well enough now. Allow me to clean up a bit, and I shall meet you downstairs in a few minutes."
"Éowyn, I would not leave you alone. Will you not let me help you?"
"No, love. I require no help."
Seating her upon a nearby chair, I crossed the chamber to the bellpull and yanked on it. "Serni shall attend you, my dear."
She sighed and nodded, and it worried me that she seemed not to have the will to argue. She looked somewhat distraught as I returned to her side. "If you do not feel well enough to join me. . . ." She silenced me with a word and a look.
"Faramir."
I remained silently vigilant until her handmaiden arrived, and only then did I remind her that I should be close by should she require aught else before I departed our room, closing the door behind me and standing outside of it for a few moments before I went downstairs to the dining hall.
Our cook, Talaith, had prepared many delicious dishes for breakfast, but I told her that I only wished for tea this morning. She seemed somewhat surprised, almost hurt by my request, but she brought the teapot and a pot of honey and left me alone with my thoughts.
As I sat sipping my tea, I heard a commotion in the foyer, and then Serni was shouting for me. Standing up so quickly that I overturned my chair, I dashed from the dining hall to find Serni crouched next to a still body lying at the foot of the staircase.
"Éowyn! Eru's tears, how did this happen?"
Fear gripped me as I reached her side and knelt next to her. Her face was deathly pale, and I was afraid to touch her since I knew not how badly injured that she might be.
"Go! Fetch a healer!" I shouted to no one in particular before I gently took my wife's hand within my own. "Éowyn?" She moved not, and I bent closer to her, quietly begging her to awaken.
Serni produced a cold cloth from somewhere and gently placed it upon Éowyn's brow. It had the desired effect as my wife took a deeper breath and then her grey eyes opened slowly.
"What has happened?" she murmured, and Serni provided the answer. But I knew that she was truly injured when she merely nodded slightly and closed her eyes again.
"Éowyn?" I softly stroked her cheek and found that she was burning with fever. "Valar," I whispered, "where is that healer?"
She opened her eyes again, and her gaze fell upon me. I squeezed her hand slightly and tried to smile at her reassuringly. "Faramir, what has happened?"
"Eru," moaned the handmaiden as I repeated what Serni had just told her, but Éowyn seemed confused by this.
"I am sorry, sir," she said after a little time had passed, "but could you show me the way to my uncle's chambers? I seem to be lost."
"Indeed," I said, and my voice nearly broke upon that single word as I realized that my own wife no longer recognized me.
"She must have struck her head, Lord Faramir."
"Perhaps, though she also burns with fever, Serni." I silently berated myself for not noticing it while we were yet together upstairs.
"Lord Aragorn?" queried Éowyn, and I gasped at the depth of affection within her eyes as she looked up at me, thinking that I was the king.
"Nay," said Serni, trying to soothe her mistress. "He is not in the city, Lady Éowyn."
"I do not understand. He was here but a moment ago."
"Éowyn, do you not recognize me?" I asked her.
With fever-bright eyes, she gazed upon me, blinking. "There is something vaguely familiar about you. Are you a friend to Éomer?"
I nodded slowly, at a loss for words.
"Strange. You do not have the usual features of a Rider of the Mark. Did you arrive with Lord Aragorn?"
"Rest, Éowyn, please. A healer is on the way to aid you."
"But, what has happened?" she repeated yet again. "And why do you address me so informally, sir?"
I sighed shakily. "Forgive me, my lady. I forgot myself." I thought that she might say more, but she closed her eyes and drifted away.
"Eru, Lord Faramir," Serni whispered, obviously worried for her lady.
I stood as a middle-aged man carrying a cloth bag, barreled into the house behind our guard Foli. The man immediately crouched next to my wife, beginning to examine her even as he introduced himself.
"I am Gethron from the Houses of Healing. Did she fall, my lord?"
"Yes," I supplied. "She does not recognize me. In fact, she seems to think that she is in some other time, for she was asking after her dead uncle."
"That is most probably a direct effect of this fever, for I feel no injuries upon her head."
"Master Gethron, she is with child." He glanced back at me with a concerned look upon his face and then spoke to the servants.
"I need a quantity of cold water and cloth. Lord Steward, is there a bedchamber upon this level?"
"Yes," I said, feeling useless.
"Someone bring a blanket to carry her upon." He stood as the servants brought forth all that he had requested. Gently Gethron and Foli with Serni's help arranged Éowyn upon the unfolded blanket, and she was carefully raised from the floor by the men. "Lead the way," the healer said, and I showed him to where our guest quarters were located.
They gently deposited her atop the bedclothes while I stayed back, trying to keep out of the way. As Gethron applied a new cold compress to her brow, she awakened once more, and this time she was obviously alarmed as she struggled beneath the healer's hands.
Gethron moved out of her line of sight, hoping that she might calm down, but instead, she became all the more frantic. Unable to watch her suffer any longer, I moved closer.
"Lady Éowyn," I spoke softly as I approached her. "How fare you?"
"I am hot, my lord," she replied weakly, her hands scrabbling feebly at her dressing gown.
Gently I sat upon the edge of the bed and reached toward her, intending to make her more comfortable by helping her with the ties upon the garment. But her eyes focused upon me, and a certain venom entered her voice.
"Take yourself away from me, worm, or I shall set my brother upon you! Never shall you touch me again!"
I stood abruptly and took a step back, certain that she thought me to be Grima Wormtongue. "Please, Éowyn, I am your husband."
"Lies! Do not think to trick me with your words! When Éomer returns, he shall skin you alive!" she spat. Never had I seen the full force of Éowyn's wrath, and now, with it directed at me, I was speechless. She slipped into Rohirric, and the curses she screamed at me burned into my mind.
"Perhaps you should wait without, Lord Faramir," murmured Gethron, and I nodded and reluctantly departed the room, pacing up and down the hallway, hearing her cry out in her delirium occasionally. My thoughts were filled with the harsh words she had flung at me as she had thought me to be the man that she had most loathed.
Finally I could take it no longer when I heard her screaming for her brother, as my heart was wrenched in twain by her cries. I thought it highly unlikely that she should call for me anytime soon, as it seemed that I did not yet exist in her fevered dreams, so I hastily sought the company of my uncle.
