Summary: "He is a delicate boy, lady. He might not act it, but he has many hurts that went deep that he hides."
A/N: Got the inspiration reading Unfinished Tales' Narn I Hin Hurin.
Another A/N: Okay, the title is called Ithildin Past because Ithildin does not mirror anything but starlight and moonlight. In this fic, Faramir confesses most of his past while the moon is shining.
Disclaimer: The excerpt from the song is not mine. The characters are not mine. Plot is mine. If someone already has written a story like this, let me know and I'll take this story off immedietly.
And I'm drying out, crying out,
This isn't how I go.
Hurry now, lay me down
And let these waters flow
Let it flow, let it go ...
--Yellowcard; How I Go
Éowyn felt Ioreth comb her hair. It was a river of gold that was always in wild, wind-swept tangles. She winced as Ioreth tugged the comb through a stubborn, tiny tangle. She wondered who combed Ioreth's hair when Ioreth's wedding day. Her mother, perhaps? Or an aunt. Éowyn felt a tug of emotion for the kindly matron who cared for her during her time in the Houses.
"How often does the Lord Faramir talk about his past?" asked Ioreth suddenly.
Éowyn was caught unawares. "I beg your pardon?"
"How often does the Lord Faramir talk about his father, his brother, his mother..." Ioreth looked at Éowyn in the mirror. She has changed much, thought Ioreth. Ioreth thought about that pale young woman who came to the Houses nearly a season ago. Now, she had a small tinge of gold to her cheeks. Faramir has chosen well.
Éowyn had not thought about this before. "Not... not much," she admitted. "Why?"
"How does he appear to you, lady?"
Éowyn smiled as she thought of Faramir. "Handsome, tall, strong, wise, stern... 'Tis like, nothing can touch him, nothing can hurt him."
Ioreth smiled sadly and said, "He is a delicate boy, lady. He might not act it, but he has many hurts that went deep that he hides."
Éowyn stared back at Ioreth in the mirror. Was Ioreth pulling a jest? No, there was no lie in Ioreth's eyes.
Éowyn pulled her gaze from Ioreth to the window. She could hear music rising from the City. The sunlight streamed in, and a fresh breeze from the Sea swept through the apartment. Éowyn buried Ioreth's words into the back of her mind, where it lay forgotten.
-
Three years later...
Éowyn looked at Faramir through the crack in the doorway. He was standing on the balcony, leaning against the frame. He had a blanket wrapped loosely around him, and the moonlight gave his skin a translucent quality. He looked like a ghost. Éowyn opened the door. If he felt her presence, he showed no sign of it.
"Faramir," she said softly.
He turned. He looked startled. Éowyn was startled by the look in his eyes. They looked... haunted. She had seen enough broken men to know those eyes. Ioreth's words echoed in her head: "He is a delicate boy, lady. He might not act it, but he has many hurts that went deep that he hides." Did he really have many hurts? Was he really hiding his past?
"Éowyn," he said. "I thought you were putting Elboron to sleep."
"He is sleeping like a rock," said Éowyn walking toward Faramir. Éowyn smiled as she felt Faramir's bare shoulders. "Do you like to look at the moon half-naked, Faramir? If the moon turns red, I think I know who to look for."
Faramir extended his arm and played with Éowyn's hair. "I was coming from my bath when I was captivated by the moon."
Éowyn cocked her head. "Why?"
"For her beauty, her majesty," said Faramir. He said nothing more. Éowyn did not take her eyes from him; and he whispered, "When I was five, I used to think the moon was my mother because the moon is as fair as her. That is why."
Éowyn smiled. She led him to the bed and she sat next to him. Softly, Éowyn kissed his temple and said, "I barely see you smile anymore." She played with his dark hair. It ran through her fingers easily. "If you are not haunted so much, would you smile more?"
"Why are you saying this?"
"I want to help you, Faramir, the way you had helped me," said Éowyn. "We are not so different, you and I." She leaned against him.
A tear rolled out of Faramir's eye and rolled down his cheek. It appeared silverly in the moonlight. "No," he said. "I am not so different from you. There was once when I sought death. Then, I looked for life, but I did not know where to find it."
Éowyn whispered, "But you found it, did you not?"
"Yes," said Faramir, "and no. When I first saw you and loved you, I thought that this would fill my emptiness and wipe away all the bad... things," here, Éowyn could not help but give a small laugh. "But only some of the emptiness went away, but what was left was not emptiness, but a giant hole..." Faramir raised his eyes. "There is a difference. Do you understand, Éowyn?"
"I do."
They did not speak for a while. Éowyn continued to play with Faramir's hair, and she knew he had more to say.
"My mother's death anniversary is nearing," said Faramir. "I cannot help but think back. And when I think about her death, I think of Boromir... and my father. I think about all of them, wondering why I am the only one of my family still alive. I do not mean to offend you, Éowyn. I love you so much, but I--"
"I understand," said Éowyn. "You feel like you have lost yourself."
Faramir gave a small nod. "Yes. I cannot find Faramir."
Éowyn gently pulled the blanket away. "Well then," she said, kissing him gently, "perhaps I can help you find him again."
Faramir submitted to Éowyn. None saw them, only the moon.
A/N: This story was harder than I had expected... Please review!