See part one for disclaimers, beta thanks and such.

Fear of Fire

Arrangements

A few hours after his talk with Aragorn, Faramir exited his quarters in search of the Lady Eowyn. The sun was beginning to set and the fading rays seemed determined to get in his eyes as he walked. This only served to further irritate them; they were already slightly red and swollen from crying. Faramir tried to shield his eyes with his hand as he wove through the crowds, cursing the weak nature that made him cry at the drop of a hat. Sometimes he was even unable to contain his tears until he could get into a private place to shed them. It was a weakness he had struggled with all his life. Something that not even Boromir could help him with, because he did not understand it. Boromir rarely cried. And now, Faramir rarely did so either.

Not in public, at least.

He had been in his early teens when he had discovered an almost fail-proof method for keeping the tears at bay until he could get into a private place to shed them. That was why he had spent much of his spare time in his youth in the library, committing pieces of arcane and difficult poetry to memory. Then when he felt the familiar stinging start behind his eyes he would swallow and try to remember as much as he could. He had gotten through many of Denethor's council meetings by reciting under his breath, barely moving his lips, letting the insults and belittlements slide past him without really paying attention. There was a catch: the tears would always return the moment he was in private. But that did not really matter; Faramir could afford to indulge his own weakness as long as he could keep it hidden from others.

Faramir made a conscious effort to think about something else--like his current mission. He had not forgotten that Aragorn had cautioned him to wait a few days before seeking out Eowyn, but Faramir felt otherwise. If Eowyn was truly as desperate as Aragorn had portrayed her to be, there was nothing to stop her from making a bid at another man the way she had with Aragorn in Rohan. And this time, there was no Theoden to step in and warn the gentleman of his niece's true intentions. Faramir shook his head slightly. So much loss. So many good men dead, so many families torn assunder. I must not allow myself to think only of Boromir, there are others who mourn. I must stop being selfish. Faramir recited poetry until he arrived at the quarters Eowyn and Eomer shared.

A servant let him in and politely directed him to the gardens in back of the house. Faramir entered them without reservations, but no sooner had he stepped in than he realized he had done so in peril of his life. Eowyn had her sword out and was practicing complicated passes in the air, so involved in her actions that she did not notice his entrance. Faramir cleared his throat.

Eowyn swung around, sword point hovering two inches away from Faramir's breast bone. Faramir held up his hands quickly in a gesture of non-hostility. In a moment recognition crossed Eowyn's face and she lowered the sword. "My Lord Faramir," she said, only slightly out of breath.

"My Lady," Faramir replied formally. "Forgive me for coming upon you unawares. From what I saw, the man who startles you while you have a weapon in your hands is an unlucky man indeed."

A shadow of irritation crossed Eowyn's face. "Do not patronize me, my Lord," she said icily.

Faramir's brow furrowed. "That was not my intention, my Lady. I meant what I said. Can you not accept the compliment?" he asked, echoing Boromir and Aragorn's complaints directed towards himself.

Eowyn sat the sword down on the retaining wall. "I am sorry. What can I do for you, Lord Faramir?"

Faramir cleared his throat again, this time uneasily. "Faramir is fine," he murmured, stalling for time. Now that he was in a similar position, he could realize how much courage it had taken for Aragorn to come to him. "Lady Eowyn, I wanted to talk to you about a...a personal matter."

Eowyn's lips quirked in half a smile. "If I am to call you Faramir, then certainly you must call me Eowyn as well?"

"Eowyn, then. I..." How had Aragorn begun? He had made a revelation about himself, in order to make Faramir more secure. "I have a confession to make. Not one that I make lightly, nor one that I would make to very many people. But I hope that making this confession will allow a certain...understanding...between us."

Eowyn bit her lip. "You talk of serious things, my l--Faramir," she corrected herself. "Walk with me then, and we will talk."

Faramir moved forward and offered her his arm out of habit. Eowyn slipped her had through his elbow, and they began a sedate pace around the garden. Eowyn looking curiously at her companion and waiting for him to begin. Faramir wetted his lips nervously and wondered if this really had been the best way to start. He had never willingly given this information to anyone--not since the day he told his father.

Denethor had informed his younger son in no uncertain terms that it was not to be spoken of again, and that he was to behave in all respects as though it was not so. Then he had given Faramir a beating to drive home the lesson. It was one of only half a dozen times Denethor had hit Faramir, and the only time it was for something Faramir truly couldn't help. After that Faramir had obeyed his father and never spoken of his desires to anyone. Indeed, he had taken pains in the opposite direction, working very hard to hide his preferences from all.

But there was one person who had never had to be told, and it was the same person who applied the healing salve to Faramir's back when he had been beaten. Faramir willed his thoughts away from the direction they

were headed. Even his dearest memories of Boromir were tainted by the fact his brother was dead, and it did not do to dwell on them.

Eowyn was still waiting for him to speak--he had to take this leap of faith in her. Nevertheless, he could not help but caution her one more time before he began. "Eowyn, what I have to say is for your ears only."

Eowyn nodded her understanding. "I would never repeat a confidence," she said firmly.

Faramir smiled at her unwitting echo of his previous conversation with Aragorn. "Very well, then." How on earth to begin? He hesitated a moment longer, then suddenly found some common ground to start with. "You know, better than most I imagine, how it can be necessary for a person of our rank to sacrifice part of their personal life to what is expected of them." Eowyn nodded, looking as though she found this trend in the conversation ironic. "Yes. Well, I have experienced this most of my life in a very personal area. I am not attracted to women," he said bluntly.

Eowyn stopped moving, and Faramir by necessity halted also. He met her keen gaze, trying not to flinch away as she studied his face. He had grown up used to such scrutiny, but it was no easy thing he had just done.

"Not at all?" Eowyn queried delicately.

Faramir smiled humorlessly. "As friends and nothing more. I'm sure you understand me."

"Oh, yes. Yes, I understand you very well."

Faramir repressed an amused snort at Eowyn's fervent answer, and they resumed walking. "So I am sure you also understand that for me to marry it would never be a matter of love, but rather one of mutual convenience," he said. "A political marriage." Eowyn tensed slightly, almost as though she guessed some part of what was coming, although she kept her face blank. "I had always assumed that I would be forced to hide what I was from my spouse, if for no other reason than to keep her from pain. I wish to shackle no lady to an unloving husband. But recently it has been brought to my attention that I might not be the only one searching for--" He paused to try to come up with the best possible wording. "An understanding spouse who would allow me to pursue my passions while providing me with the necessary alliance. Do you know anyone in such need, Eowyn?" he asked quietly.

Eowyn was very tense. Her eyes were veiled, as though she didn't know how far it was safe to go in this conversation. "I may know a lady," she said cautiously.

"A lady of Rohan?" Faramir asked, quite willing to speak in the third person for a while. Eowyn nodded. "Excellent. It would be good to reinforce the political alliance between Gondor and Rohan this way. I daresay you may have been thinking as much when you courted Aragorn," he continued blandly, ignoring her flinch. "But is she someone I can get along with, do you think?"

Eowyn stopped walking again, and turned to face him. Her expression said clearly that she was not enjoying the farce, and so Faramir ended it.

"Eowyn," he said softly. "I offer you freedom. I offer you freedom to love as you will, while at the same time the chance to have heirs and political protection from those who do not understand. And I ask only the same in return."

Eowyn bit her lip. "How did you know?"

Faramir was going to answer truthfully, but as he drew breath in he suddenly realized that Aragorn hadn't actually given him permission to repeat any part of their conversation to Eowyn. Certainly not the part about Aragorn and Arwen. Would Eowyn become angry if she learned that Theoden had spoken privately about her to Aragorn--and Aragorn in turn to Faramir? Yes, anyone would become angry at being spoken of behind their back like that, and particularly someone as fiercely independent as Eowyn.

Fortunately, Faramir's lifetime in his father's court had left him able to dissemble quickly and with relative believability. "I have always been able to tell," he said gently. "Not just with you, but with many people. I think it is a gift of the Numenorian blood that is still in my veins."

"Aragorn must be quite good at it, then."

Faramir couldn't tell whether Eowyn was serious or not, but it gave him an opportunity to introduce the idea that Aragorn already knew, about both of them. "It wouldn't surprise me at all to know he was aware of it, of this and many other things," he said. "But you, Eowyn, have not yet answered my proposal."

"Oh, Faramir, you call that a proposal?" Eowyn asked with a raised eyebrow. "It was hardly romantic."

Faramir stared at her for a moment. A small smile was tugging at the corners of her lips, so he decided she was jesting. "Ah, my Lady, how can you ever forgive me?" he asked dramatically. "But what shall I do? Shall I fall down upon my knees?" He did so, grabbing both of Eowyn's hands in his. "Would you like me to weep with the depth of my passion for you? Tell you that I shall die if you reject me? Beg you to show mercy to one who is--" He paused, searching for appropriately ludicrous wording. "One who is drowning with desire for the slightest sign of thy favor?"

Eowyn was laughing by this point. Faramir pressed on, over-exaggerating every word and gesture and in general behaving like a third-rate actor in a terrible play. "Be my bride, Lady Eowyn, and I shall grant to you my love for all eternity. Or if thou wilt not, grant me this courtesy only: give me one last look from thy heavenly eyes before I throw myself from the tower in despair.

Eowyn laid a finger over his lips. "That is quite enough, Faramir," she said, eyes sparkling with mirth. "I understand you."

"But will you grant my desire?" Faramir asked, half-joking and half serious.

Eowyn's next actions surprised him. Slowly and deliberately, she gathered her skirts to one side and lowered herself to her knees until she was on an equal level with Faramir, exactly mirroring his position. "For most of my life," she said seriously, holding tightly to his hands, "I have lived in terror of hearing such words as you have just spoken to me. And yet you have given me joy with them. Never had I thought to find a husband who would allow me to be myself. I did not think such a man existed."

"My Lady, one kneels before you," Faramir said seriously.

Eowyn smiled--a genuine smile, not the fake or superior ones she so often gave in court. Faramir had rarely seen her smile so, and it lit up her entire face. "And I consider it my good fortune to have stumbled across him."

"Then you will marry me?"

Eowyn nodded. "You offer me freedom I had not dared to even dream of, Faramir, and I would wed any man who offered it to me, no matter who he was. But I consider it again my good fortune that it is you, one of the wisest and noblest men of my acquaintance, who has come to me with this proposition."

Faramir felt a pang of guilt at allowing Eowyn to believe he had come up with this solution on his own, but he dared not break Aragorn's confidence. Hopefully they would be able to sort it all out later. "And I consider it my good fortune to have found a lady I so sincerely admire that will consent to marry me. One who offers me a mighty gift of love, albeit not in the usual fashion. And one to whom I can give this gift in return."

"Then it is settled, but on one condition." Faramir looked at her inquiringly. "That you treat me as an equal."

"I would not dare to do otherwise, Eowyn," Faramir answered truthfully. "You are no court lady who cares for nothing beyond what to wear tomorrow. I pity the man who tries to make you submit to him."

Eowyn shook her head. "You misunderstand me. While I do appreciate what you just said, it is not what I meant. I meant--" She paused, looking upwards briefly as though she might find the words she needed written across the sky in clouds. "You see, Faramir, you have come to me with this wonderful idea--you have offered me freedom and love combined. And in the Houses of Healing even though you must have been grieving as deeply as I, it was you who spoke comfort to me. You are so willing to give of yourself--to me, at least--and you do not take in return. If we are wed I do not wish it continue this way, to have you constantly provide for me. I wish to do the same for you as well, and to have you accept my love and support; to let me give of myself to you. Can you accept that?"

Faramir started to answer her blithely, to assure her with a courtier's tongue that he would do as she asked. Yet something about what she had said made him stop. It was his nature to try and give those he loved whatever they wanted, even if it meant answering Eowyn in the affirmative with no intention of really going through with it. But because Eowyn was going to be his wife, because they were going to live together for the rest of their lives, he realized the relationship should not begin with dishonesty, no matter how well-intended. "My only fear is that you do not yet have enough of yourself to give," he answered gently. "You came so near to death, and much nearer still to despair. I wish you to keep all your love and energy for yourself, and use it to heal."

Again Eowyn stopped his speech by gently touching his lips. "As near as I came to death and despair, you came nearer to both," she said, softly but in a tone that bore no contradiction. "If you can afford to give of your love to me, then I can repay you by giving my own love back. You simply cannot give and give without ever receiving, Faramir, you will use yourself up. Trust me, I know," she added firmly. "I want you to rely on me. I want you to allow me to give back to you everything you give to me. That's why I knelt when you did, to show that we are truly equal. I want no courtly gestures of you, Faramir, no grand chivalry. I want only a true friend. Will you do this for me?"

She held Faramir's eyes until he nodded, and until she could see the truthfulness of his promise in them. Then she smiled, another of the rare genuine ones. "Good. Now, let us go tell Eomer, shall we?"

"Does he know? About you?"

Eowyn shook her head slowly, biting her lip. "I do not think so. I've certainly never told him. My brother is many good things, but tolerant is not one of them. Yet he may have guessed over the years. He will be most relieved to see me taking an interest in a man." She smiled mischievously. "You will be his new best friend, Faramir. He will be so relieved he will practically worship you."

Faramir laughed, unaware that it was the first genuine laugh to cross his lips in weeks. "I'm not certain I can cope with that kind of devotion."

Eowyn smiled and got to her feet, extending one hand to aide Faramir to his also. He accepted her help with a smile. "I will go with you to make it clear to him that you already have my consent. And to try and shut him up quickly."

Faramir nodded with a smile. On impulse he leaned forward and kissed Eowyn. It was a chaste kiss, devoid of any feeling expect perhaps brotherly affection, and it struck Faramir as absurd that he should kiss his fiancee with the same amount of passion he might kiss his mother. Before he could express this thought, Eowyn started giggling against his lips. Once she started, Faramir could not help but join in also. They clung to each other , shaking with childish laughter and thoroughly adult relief, long after the sun had completed its leisurely descent over Minas Tirith.