Late that night as Mithrellas was making rounds through the Houses, still wondering how Faramir had ever gotten Boromir to help him go through those ancient books, she thought she heard someone up the hall sounding rather distressed, though trying to hide it. Pushing the door open quietly she saw the young woman from Rohan weeping into her pillow.
"Ah, child, what troubles you?" Mithrellas said softly, adding a few drops of lavender oil to the candle burning at the bedside. Éowyn was still looking pale and unwell and Mithrellas thought it very likely that she was still suffering the effects of the Black Breath.
Éowyn only turned away, withdrawing from the light touch at her forehead checking for signs of fever. She did not answer Mithrellas's question right away, she only seemed to sob harder. "I am going to die," she wept softly after a time.
Mithrellas had not been told by any that Éowyn's condition was so grave and so she did not overreact, had the lady been truly that unwell it would have been made known to her as well as the other healers in the Houses. "Why do you believe that, dear?" she asked comfortingly.
"I am bleeding, but I am not wounded. My mother died this way as well." Her voice was so small that Mithrellas had to strain to hear. "Could someone send for my brother?"
"We shall see, my Lady, but perhaps there is not a need to worry him just yet. Let me fetch some thistle and see if I cannot help you." Mithrellas remained calm but she knew that an internal injury might in fact cause death long before anyone could be notified. Yet it did not seem possible that Éowyn was really bleeding internally since she had been well enough through the week. Moreover, Mithrellas knew well enough that not all internal injuries were so severe, no one had ever died from an earache at least. "Are you in any pain?" she asked.
"Yes, such as I have never known before," Éowyn moaned, now clutching the pillow.
"How long has this been now?" Mithrellas asked, growing concerned that perhaps there was a real problem at hand.
"All day," she said. "I woke in the night with a terrible pain in my back and it has not gone away. I've not been able to eat anything either."
Mithrellas now looked curious. "From where are you bleeding, child?"
Éowyn flushed a bit, then turned away. "I can not say," she whispered.
"Ah, I understand. Has this ever happened before?" Mithrellas said, beginning to get the picture.
"No, never!" Éowyn wailed.
"How old are you, child?" Mithrellas asked.
"Twenty and four," Éowyn said as though she knew that was all the more years she was to see.
"You have always been a very active person?" Mithrellas continued.
Éowyn simply nodded, though she had no idea what the woman healer was asking her that for.
Mithrellas simply smiled softly. "This is both very normal, and not so normal," she said. It was certainly not normal among women of nobility, though for lower class women whose lives were of extensive activity and labor it could often actually be uncommon to go through the symptoms of a woman's natural cyclical experience. Though now that Éowyn had been quite inactive for a bit of time, her body seemed to respond to that rather quickly. What surprised Mithrellas the most was that no one had ever spoken to the young woman of this, though she was aware that she had been raised by her uncle, whose wife had died in childbirth, and she had only a brother. Mithrellas sighed, men were so helpless sometimes, and she gently began the rather lengthy explanation of what was going on to the poor frightened girl. From that time on Mithrellas and Éowyn came to be good friends, Éowyn feeling that she had someone who she could confide in whilst in this strange city.
One morning when Mithrellas came to visit Boromir and noted that Faramir was at the library fetching more volumes of useless information about Kings of Gondor from over a thousand years before. She asked him if Faramir had ever spoken of any lady with particular interest and from the way Boromir rolled his eyes she guessed that he had indeed. Mithrellas said that Éowyn had spoken to her of Faramir in quite glowing terms, but always she negated such praise by insisting that he did not care for her at all. She had said that she thought it was possible that he fancied her when they had walked in the gardens together, but ever since the word came of the victory at the Black Gates he had not come to see her, causing her to believe that he'd only walked with her to keep from being alone.
Boromir just shook his head. He was not at all surprised. "And Faramir has refused to go to her because he overheard some ridiculous rumor that she fancies his father and he thinks she would not care to see him. This is what love does to rational people. We have to do something about this Mumma 'Rel. That poor girl is not going to get any better and my little brother is going to turn into a book if we don't get them together. Thing is, he won't buy it from me, someone else has to be in on this."
Mithrellas smiled. "Leave it up to me, I think I can enlist the help of the Warden, he has been worried about the lady's condition. I will go and speak with him immediately." She turned to leave just as Faramir was coming into Boromir's chambers, weighted down with another tower of tomes for them to waste the afternoon with.
The next morning as Faramir was coming from the library with yet another stack of old ledgers, the Warden approached him, asking if he could spare a moment. Faramir agreed but his arms were growing a bit tired and he asked a nearby guard if he wouldn't mind taking the stack up to Boromir's apartments. Boromir was thrilled to see the books coming without his little brother, that had to mean that at least part of the plan was set in motion.
The Warden asked Faramir to come with him to the Houses and he said that he hoped Faramir could help him with a patient. He said that he had heard that Faramir had some skill with the healing arts and had often tended the Rangers at Henneth Annûn. Faramir agreed and the Warden told him of how this patient just was not returning to health, even though everyone else in the Houses, in the entire City really, seemed to be better than ever. Faramir did seem concerned and said that he would do what he could to help as the Warden lead him to the gardens.
Faramir looked around the garden but he saw only one, a woman, standing by the wall, though she appeared to be rather holding herself up with it. That long, golden hair was not to be mistaken in Minas Tirith. Faramir took a deep breath as a twinge of agony took hold of him. Of all people, this one lady he had not wished to face at that moment. He felt certain that he would only make a fool of himself with her yet again. Faramir decided that what he had to do, as his daeradar had often said, was to simply forget about his own feelings in favor of offering healing. Of course, the part that was bothering him so was that the first step to healing involved questions, as a healer had to known precisely what was the trouble before he could assess the situation. Faramir could only think of one thing he wanted to ask Éowyn at that moment.
His mind was a whirlwind that he prayed would cease and let him act rationally as he approached the wall where she stood looking out. The last time he had seen her she had been in the same place. That was when he learned that his father survived and was victorious. Since then he had been so busy, and then he'd overheard that rumor…. Faramir drove that thought from his mind and forced himself to pretend nothing was bothering him as he bowed graciously and bid Éowyn a good morning.
She looked rather surprised to see Faramir here in the garden again, but she said nothing, not returning the greeting with any more than a nod. Faramir took a deep breath at that, once again trying to compose himself enough to ask what was troubling her. If she really did need healing he knew that he was not the one to do it, not with the way he felt at that moment. He was liable to make mistakes, and Elrond had always said that it was often better to not attempt to heal someone if mistakes were too likely.
They stood together in silence for some while, both looking out over the high wall, and unwittingly both thinking just the same thing. After some while Faramir thought he had figured out how to ask what was on his mind and ask what was troubling her in the same question, and it still took him a while to find his voice to ask it though. Finally Faramir decided that he just had to take courage and face it like he had any other obstacle.
"Éowyn… why do you tarry here?" he asked, truly wondering. "Cormallen is not a far journey, and your brother dearly wishes to see you."
To Éowyn's ears, that sounded a lot like Faramir did not wish for her to remain in Minas Tirith. She thought that he was trying to get rid of her by sending her back into her brother's care. There was noticeable hurt in her voice, though she did her best to hide it when she replied, "Do you not know?"
Faramir sighed, sounding somewhat defeated. It seemed to him that she was going to force him into asking her directly what he wanted to know. Still, he kept himself in check and said thoughtfully, "Two reasons there may be, but which is true, I do not know."
At that Éowyn's mood swung from hurt to anger. "I do not wish to play at riddles. Speak plainer!" she said in no gentle tone. If he wanted her gone and away from him, why did he not just say so!
Faramir took a deep breath. As he suspected, it had come to this. "Then if you will have it so, lady…. You do not go because only your brother called for you…," he took a breath, wondering if this would prove true, "and not Lord Aragorn," he said. Leaving her no moment to respond to that before he spoke of his more hopeful thought, he continued, "Or because I do not go, and you desire still to be near me." Again Faramir continued, if he had to get this off his chest, it was best to do it all at once. "Maybe for both these reasons, and you yourself cannot choose between them. Éowyn… do you not love me, or will you not?" Faramir had no mind to ask whether she did or did not love him, he had himself convinced that she in fact did not, he only wanted to know why it was so.
Faramir's half-done-confession caught Éowyn quite off guard. She was sure that it was he who did not love her. Still, she kept her defenses up and simply said, "I wished to be loved by another." Quickly she added, "but I desire no man's pity!"
For a time Faramir was quite. To him that was all the confirmation he needed that she did not love him, though he told himself that there was no surprise in that. So with that he decided it was best to resign himself to the facts and to try to understand Éowyn's point of view as best he could. It wasn't as though he'd ever understood why he felt so strongly for this lady anyhow. What he wanted to do more than anything was to go back to his chambers and not speak to anyone for the rest of the day, but Faramir had never been one to run from his fears or hide from pain.
Looking at Éowyn he spoke of what he saw in her, someone who wanted the love of somebody great and powerful who could take her away from all the sorrow and dread in her life, who would not only save her but give her the triumph and freedom she sought so vainly for, who would put her in a position to no longer be answerable or in service to any man. Only when Lord Aragorn, who was surely the greatest and most powerful of Men, could give her naught but sympathy and empathy, she sought only for the glory of battle and the freedom of death.
Faramir again strengthened his resolve and put himself on the front lines, admitting in unmistakable words that he loved her, and, since his last question had actually gone unanswered, he asked again, "Éowyn, do you not love me?" For some reason, he just needed to hear the word "no" from her own lips before he could let it rest, even if he was torturing himself with it.
At that the change in Éowyn's mood was undeniable, but it was Faramir's turn to be caught off guard as she now seemed no longer mournful, almost as if she rejoiced that he finally admitted that he loved her. Éowyn declared that she no longer wished to be a warrior-maiden, but that she wanted to become a healer, and Faramir found himself speechless at this change, as though his words had freed Éowyn to see what it was that she truly desired. And she looked at him long, now holding his hand, and said meaningfully "No longer do I desire to be a queen."
Her meaning was not lost on Faramir, nor was the meaning of the sparkle in her sapphire eyes, and he laughed to realize that he had been so wrong the whole time about her. Scarcely did his mind have any notice of what his heart suddenly had him saying, that he would marry her, if she too wanted that, and that they would build a home in Ithilien, and have gardens that would grow beautiful just because she was there.
He could have and would have gone on like a merry fool, had Éowyn not checked his excitement by voicing her fears, lest happiness let them lose their senses. Perhaps he had not thought of the consequences that could come of marrying a "wild shieldmaiden" and she was not about to have him change his mind later, so thought it best to warn him just what he was getting into. "Would you have your proud folk say of you:… 'Was there no woman of the race of Númenor to choose?'"
Faramir was not to be daunted by the opinions of others, though. He did not take his eyes from hers as he said only, "I would," in his soft voice, and he held her close, kissing her with passion. Faramir lingered a moment with an idiotic grin before he came to his senses and took Éowyn's hand in his and, all but dragging her along with him, went to the Master Healer, who was suddenly trying to look like he had been looking through a book of herbology all along. Faramir declared Lady Éowyn to be in perfect health and the Warden, having long known that there was nothing wrong with the lady that a certain lord couldn't cure, gave his blessing for her departure from the Houses. But Éowyn in fact chose to remain in the Houses of Healing, for the place had become quite special to her, and she hoped to learn something of the healing arts.
Faramir agreed that that was a fine idea and said that he would help her as much as he was able. It was just then that he noticed that the sun was already a full hand's breadth from where it was when he emerged from the library that morning. "I've got to go for now, Éowyn," he said, sounding rather regretful about it, "my brother has likely already ignited our last hope for finding any suitable ideas for the ceremony of coronation. I will come back as soon as I am able, though. Perhaps we could dine together?"
She merely nodded and off Faramir went like an Elf walking on fresh fallen snow. That was until he passed a room and happened to hear one garrulous elderly nurse saying, "hands of a healer? Ts'nt naught but ancient rubbish. Why, if that were so I could have taken the crown myself years ago and saved us all a lot of bother about it!"
Faramir, however, was a little more idealistic about the whole thing. "Lady Ioreth…," he said in a slightly more commanding tone than was necessary, and noticing that he had chanced upon Damrod's recovery room, asked the nurse if she wouldn't mind leaving them for a bit. Faramir waited until the woman in question nodded, bowed, and closed the door behind her. "You needn't take her word for it, Damrod. After all, I heard it was she who was most impressed with the healing skills put forth to revive me not so very long ago. You have my apology that I have not been to see you, you know that is not like me."
Damrod smiled brightly, glad to see a familiar face. "And you needn't apologize, Captain Faramir. I did hear that you are acting as Steward now, and I never expected you'd have too much time on your hands."
"Well, I have as much time as everyone else, it is just that my time now seems to be a bit more full than usual. But how are you faring, my friend?"
"I am alive," Damrod said with a little smile, though it was plain to Faramir that he was still having a lot of trouble breathing. "They tell me I shouldn't even be here, so I guess I am doing quite well. I just wish my mumma would stop worrying." Damrod spoke slowly, but he had much to say and Faramir was patient. He asked after Mablung and was relieved to hear that none of theirs who ventured to the Black Gates had suffered any injury. "Captain," he said quietly, "there was a man here, just after the battle… I thought that I would die here and I said to my mumma not to cry, that my father had died this way too, fighting for the King. Then a man came to me, he must have been a Ranger, but I did not know him, and he helped me. He had some kind of leaf that he made a vapor of, and when I breathed it I was not in pain. I thought surely he must be the King. Since then I have heard no talk of kings, I thought I must have been dreaming."
Faramir smiled warmly though. "That was certainly no dream, Damrod. There is a King and he will soon return here to Minas Tirith and the glory of Númenor will be renewed."
Faramir thought there was a bit more he could say on that subject to his friend, but just then a messenger came looking for him with a letter. Faramir glanced through it, looking a little perturbed. "They cannot be coming yet, it is too soon!" he muttered. "I am afraid I cannot stay, Damrod. You ought to be resting anyway, at least if you pretend to sleep Ioreth may leave you alone. I give you my word that I shall not neglect my friends, though." Faramir turned to go, then turned back for a moment and took a leaf from his belt pouch saying, "this works wonders," with a knowing smile, and departing quickly to get back to the suddenly more pressing work of making preparations.
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Long chapter this time since i have been so long off my regular writing schedule. This time of the year is so busy for everybody and when i am not rushing or trying to sit still long enough to think, i am too bloody tired to really do much writing. Either that or i am just on a lazy streak. Besides... it's still football season in the 'burgh.
Now then... i am going to do my reviews here for the time being, since it's been so long since the last chapter. Perhaps i shall keep up with them in the new system from here on though. These ones are grandfathered in though.
linda: I haven't the foggiest clue what Faramir's planning to do. And with Boromir in on it... no one knows what may happen.
steelelf: Ah, yeah, Bor's a dear when he wants to be.
Elenhin: I've got to get back to your message. Been so busy all weekend that i just haven't gotten to it yet. And you know me, i never like to be hasty about it. The boys had a big win today, i'll tell you all about that later though.
grumpy: Sometimes, just on ocassion, the elder sibling does in fact know best (i should know!)