Fear of Fire, Chapter Six: Conversations

Author: Blossomwitch

Rating: PG

Chapter Summary: Faramir and Eowyn talk about their problems; Aragorn tries to fix a problem and instead creates the beginnings of a real mess.

A/N: This chapter was a real headache to write, but now that it's over (clears throat, places left hand on copy of LOTR and right hand in the air) I solemnly promise that this shall be the last chapter without some slashy action in it. Just bear with me. I'm experimenting with writing from the ladies p.o.v. this chapter, so let me know how it works.

Chapter Six: Conversations

"You seem somewhat distracted, my heart."

Eowyn's left eyebrow drifted gently upwards when a response was not forthcoming to her statement. Perhaps Faramir was even less aware of her presence than she had thought. She decided to test him. Taking a sip of her wine, she casually announced, "Eomer thought it would be a good idea to change the wedding colors from white and gold to pink and gold. What do you think?"

"Yes, of course," Faramir murmured absently, completely confirming Eowyn's suspicions.

Eowyn sighed softly as her companion played with his food. Faramir could be an enigma sometimes. He had gone to all the trouble of arranging a private dinner for the two of them in his quarters instead of dining in the main hall with Aragorn and Arwen and the others; Eowyn had thought it a sweet gesture, especially considering that they didn't really know each other as well as they should yet. Yet here he was, completely unresponsive--she might as well have been dining with a statue.

Eowyn certainly didn't intend to become a nagging wife, especially considering their 'special circumstances,' but she could hardly believe this was what Faramir had envisioned when he invited her here.

"Faramir? Faramir!" she said crossly.

Faramir blinked and looked up. "I'm sorry, Eowyn. What did you say?"

"I said Eomer wanted to make one of the wedding colors pink, and you agreed," Eowyn informed him. After amusing herself by watching the panic sweep over Faramir's face she added, "I was jesting. I was just proving to myself that you haven't listened to a word I've said all evening."

It was amazing how much Faramir's features could resemble those of a kicked puppy. And the worst part of it, Eowyn thought grimly, was that he wasn't trying to tug at her heartstrings or make her forgive him--he just was. "What were you thinking about?" she asked gently, seeing that he was truly contrite.

"I--work."

Eowyn tapped her fork on the side of her plate, studying Faramir closely. "What about work?"

Faramir smiled wanly. "My deepest apologies, Eowyn. I asked you here so we could relax for an evening and then I spend the whole time thinking about work. Worse still, I ignore you. I'm afraid I'm not shaping up to be a very good husband."

Eowyn frowned. She was having none of this. Setting her utensils down quite suddenly she reached across the table and grabbed both of Faramir's hands. "Faramir," she chided lightly, "you are the most private man I have ever met! I speak and you sit there quietly; I ask you what's wrong and you deflect me. If I didn't know better I'd think you had some deep, dark secret you were hiding from me--another woman, perhaps? Or another man?" she teased gently.

Faramir smiled ruefully. "Nothing so pleasant, I'm afraid."

"I can stand a little unpleasantness," Eowyn said firmly.

"It's a long story," Faramir warned.

"Well, then you'd best start right away."

Faramir sighed. He could see there would be no getting around his fiacee, and in truth he knew that she was right. When he had realized how long it was going to take him to conquer his trouble with fire, he had realized that Eowyn should be told at some point and now seemed as good a time as any.

He stumbled through the story with little grace and much fumbling, trying to stumble around the parts that revealed how weak he had been to Eowyn. He hated to show a weakness to anyone, and especially to this woman who was so admirably strong. It was bad enough that he was so utterly dependant on Aragorn for comfort when the memories and emotions began to overwhelm him; to have his wife also feel like she had to take care of him would be unbearable. So he did his best to slide around the issue--yet he couldn't explain to Eowyn why he was so distracted today without going back to the beginning and letting her know how seriously this fear was interfering with his life.

Eowyn listened somberly, only interrupting when she didn't understand something. A fleeting expression of distress crossed her face when he spoke of how Aragorn had noticed his discomfort at the party and hastened past that part, not wanting her to feel guilty that she had not seen. He explained how Aragorn had come up with a plan to help him and a fleeting look of wonder crossed her face, disconcerting Faramir slightly. Finally, he was able to come to what was directly relevant to his distraction this evening--Aragorn's suggestion that he speak with his family about Boromir's death. "I sought out my uncle Imrahil and spoke with him today, and while he was very understanding once he realized what I wanted, it was just--"

"Difficult," Eowyn finished for him.

Faramir nodded, toying with his food. "Difficult, yes, to think about him so much. And awkward, too, to seek Imrahil out and explain what I needed. If Aragorn hadn't been so adamant about my needing to speak with family, I do not think I would have done it."

Eowyn debated before speaking. "I think Aragorn is very wise," began.

"Yes, he is," Faramir concurred immediately.

Eowyn checked a smile at her fiancee's immediate loyalty. "I mean in telling you to talk through your grief. If I had not been able to talk to Eomer when our cousin and later our uncle died, I do believe I might have done something even more drastic than I did." She smiled wanly.

Faramir looked at her warily. "If it is too painful for you to talk about this..."

"No, you misunderstand me. I'm trying to let you know that it's okay to talk to me. I know I didn't know Boromir, or your father--but maybe being able to tell someone who didn't know them what they were like would help, too."

Faramir just stared at her with an unreadable expression, and Eowyn suddenly blushed. She was being too forward, as always. Faramir had opened up to her thus far only because she had pushed him. Even if they were about to be wed, it was a marriage of convenience only and she had no reason to think that Faramir expected or even desired her friendship. "Forgive me, I did not mean to push the matter," she murmured. "I understand if you don't wish to speak of it to me."

"No," Faramir said, "I would have to be out of my mind not to want to speak to you, Eowyn. I always come out of the experience so much wiser than I went in. " Eowyn looked up at him shyly. "It never occurred to me that, having gone through essentially the same things, you are the ideal person for me to speak with of this." He smiled and shook his head ruefully. "And, of course, your remarkable willingness to put up with me behooves me as well."

"It's just--we promised to talk to each other," Eowyn said hesitantly. "When we decided on this marriage you promised to let me help you as much as you were helping me."

"And I have not yet lived up to my end of that promise," Faramir admitted without further encouragement. "I should have told you about this when it began."

"You're telling me now," she said as she reached for his hands. Realizing that neither of them were likely to eat anything further, Eowyn gently tugged him upwards. "Come. I will speak to you of Theodred and of Theoden, and you can speak to me of Boromir and of Denethor. There is much we both need to say."

Eowyn was surprised and pleased to find Faramir tucked her body under his arm as they walked; it was a much more intimate gesture than he had ever used with her before, one that pressed her up against his side. It gave her a spark of hope that he was really starting to trust her and wasn't just humoring her.

Her hope was proved justified as they sat in his gardens, talking long after the sun had gone down and the stars were making their appearance. To her mild chagrin Eowyn wound up speaking more than Faramir did; but he listened to her attentively, eyes never leaving her face, fingers brushing across hers when she came to a difficult part. She felt badly for talking so much, but gradually came to realize that maybe it was as theraputic for Faramir to listen as it was for her to speak. Then, late in the conversation, he told her as much. "I've felt as though it was weak of me to struggle so much," he told her. "When I see people around me everyday who have lost friends and family and seem to be getting on with their lives."

"Everyone's struggling," Eowyn said firmly. "It just takes strength to show it."

Faramir smiled at her. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one."

"You know, I don't know why we haven't done this before," Faramir said. "You're so easy to talk to. Easier than Aragorn, even."

"Well, of course I am," Eowyn said without hesitating. "I'm safe."

Faramir's brow creased. "Safe?"

"Well, certainly. I'm your fiancee," Eowyn explained. "I'm not your liege-lord or even a superior in court. And I'm not a potential romantic interest, either." Watching Faramir turn several shades of red, Eowyn hastened to add, "Because I'm a woman, that is. If I were a man I have no doubt you'd be all over me."

Her teasing spared Faramir an awkward moment and he smiled at her gratefully. "I am very glad you are not a man, Eowyn, because if you were we probably never would have become friends like this." He paused, pretending to consider something, but Eowyn could tell it was a pretense only. "I must say, though, you'd make a rather attractive man."

Eowyn's first impulse was to smack him lightly, but she restrained it when she thought of a better idea. "I half-think," she said evenly, "that you would make an even more attractive woman."

Faramir's eyes widened. Eowyn burst out laughing at his stunned expression; she was halfway across the garden before he thought to give chase.

Arwen was later than usual returning to her rooms after the evening's social engagements. She had expected to find Aragorn already in bed when she got there, reading until she got back or perhaps already sleeping. A delicate frown creased her features when, upon her arrival, she found the bed empty but light spilling into the room from the door to Aragorn's study.

She did not knock as she entered. Aragorn was hunched over his desk, tapping his stylus agitatedly against the wood as he stared at the papers before him. He had enough candles lit to flood the room in bright light and was so deep in concentration that he did not hear Arwen's entrance.

"Aragorn, it is rapidly nearly midnight," Arwen said with a small yawn, by way of announcing her presence. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"Work," Aragorn said with a small sigh, turning around. "It never ends. How was your day?"

"I got another letter from Father," Arwen said wryly as she stepped towards him.

Aragorn grimaced. Elrond was violently opposed to the idea of his daughter bearing a mortal man's children even though he was aware of the special circumstances of their marriage. While he had acted his part to the public, he never missed an opportunity to acquaint them with his anger. "Did he have anything new to say?"

"Not particularly." Arwen had crossed the room and now began lightly massaging Aragorn's shoulders. "What work is so urgent that it keeps you up at this hour?"

"I am working on the rosters."

"Is that all?" Arwen frowned. "Certainly that can wait until tomorrow at the very least."

Aragorn shook his head. Arwen's frown deepened as Aragorn's muscles refused to relax under her gentle ministrations. Perhaps the tension she was mistaking from simple overwork and fatigue had a deeper source. "What troubles you?" she asked.

Aragorn heaved a deep sigh. "Some bastard lieutenant that needs to be transferred away from Minas Tirith as soon as possible--preferably to Harad or further. I'm getting it done tonight so I don't have to worry about it any longer."

"What did this man do, to make you so angry with him?"

"It's not important." Aragorn touched her hands lightly in silent thanks for the massage. "Go to bed, Arwen. I'll join you soon."

"It most certainly is important," Arwen said sternly. "What is happening?"

There was a defensive quality to Aragorn's voice when he replied, as though he already anticipated Arwen's arguing with him. "The man's after Faramir day and night about the organization of their unit. He has absolutely no right to be harassing him like that. It has gone way past the point where it's merely distracting Faramir from his work. He can barely turn around without encountering the man anymore."

Arwen's frown deepened. "Aragorn, did Faramir ask you to remove this man from his unit?" she demanded.

"Well--no, that's the worst part of it!" Aragorn said, his anger getting the better of him. "I know Faramir's planning on moving him but he can't get it done until after the wedding, what with everything on his plate. And he hasn't said a word about it to me, he's just coping with the bastard until he can get rid of the man himself. I didn't even know anything was going on until Beregond mentioned it to me, casually, like everyone knew."

Arwen suppressed a groan. "Aragorn," she said gently, hoping to reason with her husband, "if Faramir hasn't asked you to move this man then you can't do anything about it."

"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked with a frown. "I'm the King; it's my perogative to move any soldier I see fit to."

"But Faramir will be angry," Arwen pointed out, continuing her massage. "He'll see it as a sign that you don't trust him. Whether you like what he's doing or not this is his problem to deal with, and your going in over his head like this as good as says that you don't think he can deal with by himself."

"That's not it at all, Arwen. It's not that I don't believe he can handle it--"

"Yet that's the message you're sending."

Aragorn shook his head. "Faramir will be glad to have the matter out of his hands," he said confidently.

Since logic wasn't working, Arwen tried a sharper tack. Dropping her hands from her husband's shoulders, she said bluntly, "Aragorn, you're behaving like an over-protective lover."

Aragorn turned sharply to face her, his expression teetering between shock and anger. "I'm not saying that's what you are," Arwen said soothingly. She was well aware of her husband's attraction to Faramir, and that so far he considered it unrequited, although she had her own thoughts about that. "I'm just saying that's what you're acting like."

"I am not."

Arwen suppressed a sigh; now Aragorn sounded like a stubborn child. "Trust me as someone outside of this situation, love. I know your intentions are good. But this isn't something you can do."

Aragorn spoke stiffly. "It is well within the boundaries of my rights as King," he said, "to do this. It is also within the boundaries of our relationship as friends."

Arwen could tell by the clipped anger in Aragorn's words that he was now too upset with her to listen any further. "Perhaps," she said carefully. "But do this much for me--leave it until tomorrow. Give yourself a night of sleep to get over your anger with Faramir for not telling you." Aragorn's eyes lit up with further pique as she said this, but Arwen knew she had correctly pegged his emotions so she continued without giving him a chance to speak. "Tomorrow you will have a clearer head and be able to decide if you really wish to do this. Better yet, you could ask Faramir what he wishes you to do. At any rate, you should come to bed now. Leave it."

Aragorn shook his head stubbornly. "I wish to deal with it now."

"Aragorn," Arwen said sternly, "you need to come to bed. That is, you need to come to bed if you wish to have children anytime in the next year. We only have a few days while I'm fertile, and I know you won't want to Orbelain." Faramir's wedding day. "So that leaves tonight and tomorrow."

Aragorn looked aggrieved by this news. "I'll join you in a minute," he said with a sigh. "I need to have this over and done with tonight."

Arwen heaved her own sigh, but hers was of exasperation. She had done her best, but Aragorn was rapidly loosing his ability to see reason in any issue in which Faramir was involved. She just hoped it didn't get him into serious trouble. "Be it on your hands, then."