Chapter V – 'I often wonder what shall become of her…'

"Mellon nin…it was not for reasons of this world that she was taken from you," whispered the Elven Prince who knelt at Faramir's bedside. His hand rested on Faramir's arm, and his head was bowed as if in prayer, eyes shut tight to hold back tears. "I know that you can hear me, Faramir… You feel guilt, but you should not! You cannot let this destroy you! Éowyn was the strongest woman in Middle-Earth. Will you disgrace her now by falling apart at her death? Think of Éowyn! Please!"

It was as if Legolas was speaking to a corpse; his effort would have just as effective if that was the case. Faramir's eyes flickered closed and his pinched face turned a shade whiter, but that was the beginning and the end of his reaction.

"Faramir, you cannot shut out the world completely." Legolas brushed a strand of Faramir's hair back from his feverish brow. "Mellon nin…please…I am begging you… Listen to me! If ever I have wished you to heed my words, it is now! You have a son and a daughter who need you!" He glanced up at Elphir, who sat on the other side of the bed. "You have a cousin who needs you! And friends! Can you not see what you are doing to them? Please… Do not fade away. You must be as a beacon to them in this time of darkness. Do not wane. Faramir…awaken to the world! Open your eyes! Listen!"

Waiting, Elphir leaned forward and waited, but as Faramir remained silent he let out his breath in a weary hiss and rubbed his eyes. Legolas glanced up at him worriedly. He knew that the Prince of Dol Amroth had scarcely left Faramir's side since Éowyn's funeral, drawn to his cousin by some steadfast familial bond even though Faramir was in poor health—physically, mentally, and emotionally. It seemed that his constant vigil was beginning to wear him thin. Legolas saw the beginnings of an angry frown forming in Elphir's taut features.

"He will not speak," Elphir mumbled, standing from his seat with a grunt of surprise at his stiffness. "Perhaps you should forfeit the effort." Elphir turned and moved with the heaviness of a tired man towards the door, but the sound of a sudden gasp of breath from Legolas stopped him in his tracks.

Slowly, almost lazily, Faramir had opened his eyes. He stared up at Legolas as if he was in pain, his shallow grey eyes shimmering with something like the forlorn misery of a man who has nothing and can no longer summon the strength to fight to gain more. Legolas tightened his hold on Faramir's arm and half-stood so that he could lean over Faramir.

"Mellon nin…" Legolas' voice was so soft that Elphir suspected that he feared to interrupt whatever thoughts may have been drifting through Faramir's mind. "What is it, my friend?"

Tears welled in Faramir's eyes, but the rest of his body seemed stiff and numb. "The world seems such a pale place… Watery…unreal…" A sob shuddered through Faramir's frame. "The Darkness is closer now than the light… I'm standing all alone, all alone on the drink of the Darkness…Darkness Unescapable…"

"Faramir," breathed Elphir, taking a step closer to the bed.

Faramir threw his head back and forth, and as he tried to sit up Legolas stopped him. "Lost… Haunted… They've all forsaken me! They've forgotten me! They've left me here, wavering on the brink! Oh, Eru!" Tears flooded down his face, and Legolas closed his eyes in pain at Faramir's suffering.

"Hush, my friend… Be still." Legolas hoped that the soothing intonations of the Elvish language would help pacify Faramir. He placed a gentle hand upon Faramir's flushed brow and frowned in dismay. "You are feverish, friend. Your tongue speaks of things it knows not. We have not forgotten you. You are not alone."

"I have no fever!" cried Faramir, his voice cracking. "Legolas…" It was the first time Elphir had heard Faramir call anyone by name since the funeral, and he was startled by it. "Sh-She is gone! She… I… Oh, Eru! I would have bled for her! I would bleed rather than linger here, alone! Why? Why, Legolas?" His desperation frightened Legolas, who could only try to steady Faramir and pray silently for his deliverance from these ghosts that haunted him. "Answer me! Answer me if you are my friend!"

Legolas' reply was slow and deliberate. "Because she was human, Faramir. As you of all people know, the Gift of Ilúvatar was—"

"Gift! What kind of gift is this?" Faramir's voice was cold and cynical now. Elphir almost felt his heart stop.

For a split second, Faramir sounded almost exactly like his father.

The next moment, however, Faramir faltered and fell back to the unconfident, weak voice that Elphir was used to hearing from his cousin. "Legolas…you are of the Firstborn… Is there nothing y-you could have done…for her?"

Legolas was caught of guard by the question, and he hesitated to answer, mainly because Faramir had just hit on the very thing that had been plaguing Legolas' conscious night and day. "Faramir…" he answered eventually. "I was not even in Minas Tirith…"

Faramir gave a soft moan and closed his eyes again. "Oh, I don't know what I'm saying… I never know what I'm saying anymore…"

Legolas desperately tried to persuade Faramir to speak of the Darkness that troubled him so, but Faramir would say nothing more. After a quarter of an hour of silence, Elphir rose and bid Legolas farewell, after telling the Elf that he would be in his temporary quarters in Minas Tirith if he was needed.

Could Legolas have done anything if he had been there? The Elven Prince knew that it was the same question that disturbed Aragorn's sleep at night. The Gift of Ilúvatar was by all rights a blessing upon the race of Men—one that Legolas himself often coveted greatly when his heart was tired and sore—but it seemed (from what he had heard) that countless things had been done falsely that day to rob Éowyn of her life before her time. Had the healers been less proud, they would have summoned Aragorn hours before such a tragedy could occur. It was a maddening thought, and Legolas found that whenever he was in the same room with healers he glared at them ferociously until they scurried away.

Legolas dipped a cloth into a basin of cool water and laid it gently on Faramir's warm brow. Deny it though he might, Faramir was ailing. Legolas feared that neither Aragorn nor Elphir nor anyone involved understood the true gravity of Faramir's situation. He could sense the presence of the battle that raged in Faramir's mind, the constant intensity that left him so weak and ill. It was a battle that he knew Faramir would lose without persistent help from someone close to him.

"If only I could stay here with you forever, mellon nin, and keep you safe…"

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The afternoon was cool and dry, with an unrelenting breeze sweeping the hills from the northeast. Deep in the wooded expanse of Ithilien walked a Man and an Elf, each with a bow across his back and a freshly slain deer across his shoulder.

"It is a shame that your Lady did not come," remarked Prince Legolas. "She would have enjoyed the hunt, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," answered Faramir shortly.

"She was once renowned for her bravery and her thirst for adventure." Legolas gave his friend a wry smile. "Has she lost it now that she is settled down with a husband and a child?"

Faramir shifted in such away that it was impossible to tell whether he had an itch or whether he was irked by the question. "Since she became a healer, she has loathed to witness the death of any living creature." Legolas nodded silently, but by Faramir's tone he knew that there was more. After a moment's pause, Faramir added hastily, "She never feared death before, yet now—since Adrahil…"

Legolas glanced surreptitiously at Faramir to see the worry lines that marked his face at the mention of his second son, the son who had died in infancy just two years before. "I understand," he said gently. They walked on for many long minutes without speaking a word to each other, and when they reached their camp they placed their burdens down in equal silence. The excited air of the hunt had dwindled with the awkwardness of Legolas' thoughtless question. Just as Legolas was wishing for the twentieth time that he had not opened his mouth, Faramir spoke again.

"I often wonder what shall become of her when I die." It was such a solemn, morbid statement that Legolas was at a loss for words. Before his falter could be noticeable, however, Faramir continued. "She will have Elboron, of course, but a child cannot always provide for a parent as a spouse or friend can. I only fear that she has no true friends to comfort her when I am gone. She is close to the Queen, but they are so different in so many ways that it is difficult, I think, for them to see eye-to-eye. From what I have gathered, whenever they talk one to the other, the Queen always speaks as an Elven lady does and Éowyn is forever speaking as a shieldmaiden of Rohan does." He paused. "Does that make any sense at all?"

"Of course," said Legolas readily, though he was thinking privately that Faramir was a little too well versed in the ways of women. Then again, perhaps that was why Faramir was married and Legolas was not.

"I try to ensure that Éowyn does not come to rely too heavily upon me as her only guidance, but it is infuriatingly difficult to find another woman in this kingdom who thinks as a shieldmaiden of Rohan does!" As Faramir spoke, Legolas observed him fiddling with the marriage band on his left ring finger. "Rohirric women are fiery and bold and outspoken, but all the maidens here are soft and gentle and mind their manners without the faintest conception of individuality or opinion! Boromir always used to say that the reason he was so reluctant to marry was because there was not a lady in all this kingdom that could please him in any way. 'Boring', he called them, when we were younger."

When Faramir's brother was mentioned in a conversation, it was a sure sign that he was deeply distressed. Legolas recognized the sign and reflected over his next words as he sharpened his knife. "Faramir…surely you are not anticipating death for many more years."

"Of course not. My father lived as long as he did without becoming dotard." Now Faramir was mentioning his father. Another bad sign. "I should expect to be the same. Still…life doesn't come with promises. I could live for a hundred more years or I could die before tomorrow morning. Who is to say? Life is a fickle thing. It can be whisked away in a matter of seconds, unexpectedly, pulled right out from under your feet…" Faramir's eyes were distant and lonely, and Legolas identified it as yet another symptom of Faramir's poor spirits.

"If that is so," said Legolas carefully, "then might it not be possible that she shall die before you, Faramir?"

The look on Faramir's face was one of dazed astonishment. It was obvious that the concept of Éowyn predeceasing him had never before occurred to him. He almost appeared affronted to have such a notion suggested to him. "Well…I suppose it is possible, but…" Faramir shrugged it away as if it was something that he didn't want to confront. "I am older than she, and she hardly does anything fraught with danger these days. If you're expecting her to go out and attempt to slay another Witch-king, you'll be sorely disappointed!" Faramir laughed, but Legolas did not smile. He had the distinct impression that Faramir was avoiding the point.

"But what if, Faramir?" Legolas pushed cautiously. "You said yourself that accidents happen."

"Don't worry, Legolas. I take good care of my wife."

"I'm not trying to suggest that you don't," Legolas was quick to assure him. "It is only… You spoke of worrying that Éowyn relies upon you too much. Do you rely upon her the same?"

"Legolas, I am a grown man, not a child."

"She is not a child, either, yet you are concerned."

"That is completely different!"

"No, it isn't."

"Why are you arguing with me?"

"Because I think you know that you're not telling the whole truth—"

"If Éowyn dies, I will just have to move on, won't I?" said Faramir in such a sharp tone that Legolas didn't dare speak again. Yet despite his tone, Faramir's eyes were full of fretfulness, not anger. "It is not as if I haven't had to before. I am a soldier, Legolas. Death has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Éowyn…she's different. She couldn't… I don't think she'd… You just don't understand. Éowyn—"

"I do understand," Legolas interrupted gently. Faramir smiled weakly and let the matter drop at that, even though Legolas was even more anxious than before for his friend. By speaking to soldiers who had known Faramir since the War of the Ring and earlier, Legolas had learned that Faramir had always been like this—covering up pain and worry with brusque answers and hasty reassurances. The confidence in Faramir's tone that Éowyn would live longer than he would unnerved Legolas. It was unlike Faramir to take something for granted, and he feared that his young friend was ignoring the possibility simply because he could not handle its implications.

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Faramir had never been prepared for Éowyn's death. He had never prepared himself, because he had somehow convinced himself that there was no chance of his outliving his wife.

"How could I have been so blind?" Legolas whispered, so softly that even Faramir would not be able to hear him. "No…not just I. We were all blind to how tightly you clung to your bride, Faramir. She was not only your love, but also your security." He lowered his voice further. "I am sorry, Faramir…" Legolas released Faramir's hand, leaned back, and closed his eyes as a Quenya blessing slipped from his lips.

"Elen síla tenn' le. Utuveyes! Aurë entuluva."

mellon nin

(my friend)

Elen síla tenn' le. Utuveyes! Aurë entuluva.

(A star shines upon thee. Find it! Day shall come again.)