Hi readers, welcome to my first Lord of the Rings fanfic.
This is only my second fanfic I've ever written, and after re-watching and then re-reading Lord of the Rings, I had a strong urge to write a fanfic for my favourite Tolkien couple (and one of my favourite fictional couples in general).
This fic will be from several moments within the lives of Faramir and Éowyn, some chapters will be quite long, others will be really short. So far, I have quite a few planned out, so I hope to be updating fairly regularly.
I really hope that you enjoy this fanfic :)
Grimacing, he rolled his shoulder, trying to alleviate the pain that lingered there. It had been made clear to him that it would take some time for his wounds to heal, both physical and mental wounds. The physical wounds were easier to see; his arm in a sling after the dart hit his shoulder and the bandages wrapped around his torso and thigh, protecting the slightly burned flesh from infection.
The mental wounds, however, were harder to see, though they pained him far greater than any battle wound ever could. 'The Black Breath', his uncle had called it before he left for the Black Gate, for it was a consequence left behind by the evil of the Nazgûl and it had taken the healing hands of the King to bring him back to the light, though he still felt the shadow linger.
Perhaps that was why he was so eager to walk in the gardens, relishing what little greenery the stone city held. After many years serving in Ithilien, he was more used to nature than he was to any man-made city, and the fresh air mixed has always lifted his spirits, and given the events of the previous days, his spirits were certainly in need of lifting.
The mood in the city was dark. Sadness still clung to those who knew and admired Boromir, his much loved older brother. There were many in the city who saw him as a beacon of hope, and with him gone, the hope began to dwindle. And then there were the rumours that were swirling of how their Steward had perished, rumours that had reached his own ears. He had quizzed Gandalf for details, but his old friend was not forthcoming. His uncle, Prince Imrahil, was more willing to tell him the story of his father's demise but only after Faramir had all but begged the older man as the rumours heard were becoming too much to bear.
Though unconscious through the ordeal, Faramir felt he could see his father as he burned upon the pyre. He wished only that he had woken so he could plead with his father, perhaps stop his final descent into madness that in the end, took his life. He cared little for his own wounds sustained in the fire; what were a few minor burns in comparison to the suffering his father went through. Though the story left him confused as to how to feel: his father had tried to take the life of his own son, but he tried to do so to spare him the horror he feared would befall him upon the enemy's victory. His main feeling was one of overwhelming sadness at the loss of a man whom he loved, despite the problems between them.
It was not only Gondor who had lost her ruler, for the King of Rohan lay dead within the halls of the city. Théoden had ridden to their aid, and it had cost him his life, leaving Gondor forever indebted to their friends from the north. The many Rohirrim that had remained within the city to heal mourned their King dearly, for he was well loved among his people. Their new King, Éomer, was much like Faramir himself, inheriting a title he never expected to be his. He wondered if he too struggled when addressed with said title, for Faramir was having difficulty being addressed as 'Steward' rather than 'Captain'.
But the mood was not completely dark, there were some that had hope. There were whispers among the people of the return of their King. They spoke of how Aragorn crept into the Houses of Healing to give aid to those in need, Faramir himself included. The rumours of the healing that this figure provided were of course true, he would be the first to attest to that for without the help of the King, Faramir would still be lost to darkness, as would several others who resided in the Houses. For those of a certain age, this Aragorn figure was familiar to them, for it appeared that Boromir's childhood hero, a warrior named Thorongil who had once fought for the armies of Gondor, was the very man who was the heir to the throne of Gondor.
But as quickly as he had arrived in the city, he had left to head to the Black Gate where all their hopes now lie. Gone too was the King of Rohan, Gandalf, Prince Imrahil and with their departure on what seemed to be a foolish mission, the city held its breath, awaiting the outcome that would shape the future of the world they lived in.
Staring towards the shadow to the east that has greeted him every day since childhood, he wondered of the fates of the two hobbits who now walked in the barren land, the two hobbits whom the host headed to the Black Gate were willing to sacrifice their lives for. More than anything, Faramir wished for Frodo and Sam to succeed in their mission, and for the two of them to return safely.
"Lord Faramir!"
He turned to find the Warden of the Houses of Healing approaching him, followed closely by a woman. She had blonde hair which reached past her shoulders, halfway down her back. She was pale skinned and grey-eyed and there was no doubt upon looking at her that she was one of the Rohirirm.
"My Lord," the Warden continued after the two of them had reached him. "Here is the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. She rode with the King and was sorely hurt, and dwells now in my keeping. But she is not content, and she wishes to speak to the Steward of the City."
So, this was the niece of Théoden King. As a man of high birth, he was of course aware of her even though he did not recognise her on sight. The pair had met once before, but it was long ago when he was still a teen, and she a child. He doubted she had any memory as the meeting was during the funeral for her mother, and the two of them didn't truly cross paths. He and Boromir had been sent to Rohan as ambassadors to his father to pay respects to the King's sister after her untimely death. There, he had seen Théodwyn's children, clinging to each other but they had seemed frightened, so he had not bothered them with condolences from a strange teenage boy.
Théodred, he had met on more than one occasion, but never enough to strike up a friendship with the former heir to Rohan. Théodred and Boromir had a rather… close relationship. His brother had never stated out loud the nature of their relationship, not even to him, but it wasn't hard to guess. It was Gondor's worst kept secret that Boromir held no preference for men or women. But aside from a few formal meetings, normally accompanying his father, the King, his knowledge of the Royal family of Rohan was limited.
Now, the girl he had once seen stood before him as a grown woman and the first thing he noted was how beautiful she was. But he was moved with pity, for an air of sadness surrounded her and she was clearly hurt in both mind and body, just as he was. He felt great sorrow for her, as none should suffer as she clearly did, least of all those who had achieved such great deeds as she had, according to the rumours he had heard.
She was quick to point out to him that it was not the care that was causing her lack of content, but instead this was down to the fact that she was still living, and that her quest to die in battle had ended in failure. He knew that pain, had felt it occasionally throughout his life, and now if she suffered with this Black Breath as he did, that pain must be increased tenfold. But still, it hurt him to hear her voice such pain aloud.
He dismissed the Warden, knowing that he was busy as the Houses of Healing were full of those who required his attention. And, after all, the Lady had requested the Steward, so it would fall to him to see how he could aid her in her sorrow. If he could help her in any way, he would do so.
"What do you wish? If it lies in my power, I will do it."
"I would have you command this Warden, and bid him let me go," she replied, though her voice faltered slightly, as if she realised her demand sounded almost childlike.
But he understood her frustration at being forced to remain bedridden at the behest of the healers. He too was in the same situation as they fussed over him, making sure he didn't exert himself, especially Ioreth, whom he had known since childhood. It could feel like a prison at times, being forced to remain abed when you wish to be elsewhere, though he was sure any man who had experienced the confinements of an actual prison would be quick to disagree, but he wasn't about to say that aloud to the Lady, he doubted it would be received well.
As he pointed out that she should remain in the Houses to be healed, she once again mentioned her desire for death. He suspected that there was something that was haunting her, aside from the Black Breath, something dark that had happened to her, and he supposed everything that had occurred within the past week had only made things worse, especially with the deaths of Théoden and Théodred.
"But the healers would have me lie abed seven days yet. And my window does not look eastward," she said, a single tear dropping from her eye and running down her cheek. Gone was the proud, confident woman who had asked him to demand the Warden let her leave the Houses, and in her place was a young maiden, filled with sadness, but if something as simple as a window looking towards the dark cloud of Mordor could help lift her spirits, he would see it done.
"That can be amended, in this I will command the Warden," he told her, and a small spark of happiness appeared in her eyes.
It struck him as odd, wanting a room facing toward the dark shadow, something that he had seen far too often in his lifetime, but it was a request he would instruct the Warden to sort as it may aid her healing. Selfishlessly, he also wished to keep her happy here for another reason, to know her better. Perhaps the two of them could help each other heal, for they were both suffering from the same affliction, and so he extended the invitation for her to walk with him to ease his care.
"How should I ease your care, my Lord?"
"Would you have my plain answer?" he asked her, and upon her answer of affirmation, he continued. "Then, Éowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful."
He knew not what possessed him to tell a woman he had met only moments before that he found her beautiful but the words tumbled from his mouth and he found himself unable to stop. She was not the first beautiful woman to have crossed his path, Gondor had many beautiful women within her borders and he admired their beauty, for he was not a blind man, but there was something striking about this woman, something that ensnared him.
Perhaps it was due to the situation they found themselves in. If the world was to end, he would have it end with no regrets and as he had yet to come across a woman who immediately captured his attention as she did, he told her what he was feeling, and once more extended the offer to walk with him in the gardens.
As expected, given he had just met her, she rather brushed his high opinion of how fair he found her off, but she did leave him with something to smile about.
"I will walk abroad by the grace of the Steward of the City," she said, accepting his offer of joining him for walks in the fair gardens of the Houses in which they resided.
She gave him a curtsey and walked back to the House and he watched her as she walked away, the small smile still gracing his lips. And now as he stood upon the walls of Minas Tirith, rather than look towards Mordor, he found his gaze strayed towards the Houses of Healing, perhaps hoping for a small glance at the fair White Lady of Rohan.
Hope you enjoyed chapter 1.
I'm still working on a writing style, as I'm fairly new to writing, so hopefully it wasn't too bad and everything seemed to flow well.
Obviously, I used some lines from 'The Steward and the King' chapter, but as I can't right anywhere near as well as Tolkien, I wanted to keep the quotes to as few as possible so the gap between his quotes and my own isn't massively felt when we reach post-canon.
Feedback is welcome, even if it's to point out improvements.
Thank you for reading, hope to see you for chapter 2.