Faramir Fiction Archive

The Broken Ones (G)

Written by Nessa Lossëhelin

23 February 2013 | 13751 words | Work in Progress

Title: The Broken Ones
Author: Nessa Lossëhelin
Rating: G
Pairing(s): Faramir
This is the first chapter of many to come. I could read about Faramir and Eowyn forever,so I was disappointed that the relationship wasn't explored more fully in the movies or in the books. Of course none of the main characters belong to me and I am only

After Eowyn and Faramir are wounded in Pellenor Fields – the rest of the story is told. There are sequences and dialogue from the books to provide more depth and ground the remaining tales. There are two point of views: Faramir and Eowyn.

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Chapter 3 – The Broken Ones – continued

Note: this chapter is really short – and I used a lot of the dialogue straight from the Return of the King because I wanted it to tie the 2nd chapter to the 4th in a better way than I could ever articulate. I beg forgiveness if it appears a little out of context.

And so the fifth day came since the Lady Éowyn went first to Faramir; and they stood now together once more upon the walls of the City and looked out. No tidings had yet come, and all hearts were darkened. Further, the weather, too, was bright no longer. It was cold. A wind that had sprung up in the night was blowing now keenly from the North, and it was rising; but the lands about looked grey and dreary. The pair spent much of their waking hours together. Both were forbidden from working, riding off to war, and roaming around the city. Rather they spent their time together, in conversation, musing, and sharing their meals together.

I woke up shivering, but it was not due to fever, for thankfully it had not returned. The wind had shifted and I thought that perhaps it would rain. Looking out of my window it was cloudy and cold, but I did not expect it would rain. This was a different darkness. My feeling was that the war was coming to an end. Which side we were on the end of it, I had no idea.

Immediately I thought of Éowyn. She could be in the gardens right now, possibly waiting for me. Or she could be in the gardens looking eastward hoping to see some sign of our soldiers: her brother and our King. Then I thought that if she is outside right now she would have to be very cold.

I briskly walked through the apartment. There were many rooms with curtains drawn tight. These were rooms that the steward and his family had lived in for decades, centuries more probably. In one room I rarely ventured, I found an armoire that stored many of my mother’s clothes. I never understood why my father kept them, but for this moment was glad that he had. There was one mantle that I recall vividly from my childhood: it was a dark blue cloak with silver stars trimming the hem and the throat. I’m unsure how she acquired it – whether it was a gift from my father or if it was an item she had as a princess in Dol Amroth, I never knew. But it was perfect and I hoped that Éowyn would accept it from me as a gift to her.

I dressed quickly and warmly, and then grabbed the mantle as I headed out the door and to the gardens. As I expected, she was there. Her sling was now gone and she instead wrapped her arms around her body. She was shivering even though she had on layers of warmer clothes. I walked up behind her and before she could turn around, I had placed the cloak over her shoulders.

“Turn around, Éowyn, let me wrap this around you.”

She obeyed and looked at me without much expression on her face. I’m not sure how long she was out here or how she knew, deep down, that something was happening in the east. The color was returning to her face as I finished tying the mantle around her shoulders and neck.

“This is lovely and warm… thank you.” She said without too much emotion. She seemed to be very tired this morning or possibly distracted.

“I noticed that your sling is missing.”

“Ah, yes… it was removed last night before bed-time. The arm is weak, but I am told that it will regain its previous strength in time.”

Silence. We looked to the east.

“This mantle is very handsome, Faramir. It was exactly what I needed to warm me. I had under-dressed, but I had dressed in haste. I suspect that something isn’t quite right now in the world.”
I stood there and looked eastward with her. I had both too much to say to her and not at all knowing what to say to her. I wanted to remark that I noticed she appeared distressed this morning. I also wanted to affirm that this mantle was indeed a gift to her. It had belonged to my mother. There was much meaning and many memories tied into this mantle. I hoped that Éowyn would accept it and like it. If she rejected it, it would sting.

“I’m glad that you find it beautiful and warm,” I remarked and smiled at her, wanting to add that I found her both beautiful and warm as well. But I held my tongue… I did not want to rush into this or sound like I was triflingly courting her or worse, stifling here. I was not good at this type of conversation by any means. I never had a conversation like that before that I could practice!
I thought that she looked fair and queenly as she stood there at my side. “This mantled belonged to my mother, Finduilas of Amroth. She was but a memory of loveliness in far happier days, but also my first grief…. It seems, to me, fitting for the beauty and sadness of Éowyn.” I smiled at her, although not sure if she noticed. I desperately wanted to share my feelings for her, but I was afraid as to how she would respond. I wanted to tell her that the past six days were the best days, the happiest days I’ve had for as long as I can remember. That seeing her each day has stirred something inside me that I have never felt before.

Even under the warmth of the mantle, Éowyn still shivered. So I pulled her close to me. She did not resist, but instead looked upwards to the north, above the gray hither lands, into the eye of the cold wind where far way the sky was hard and clear.

“What do you look for, Éowyn?” I asked.

“Does not the Black Gate lie yonder?” Said she. “And must he not now become thither? It is seven days since he rode away.”
My heart sank. “Seven days, yes.” I said to her, drawing her close so that I could keep her warm. “But think not ill of me, if I say to you: they have brought me both a joy and a pain that I never thought to know. Joy to see you; but pain, because now the fear and doubt of this evil time are grown dark indeed. Éowyn, I would not have this world end now, or lose so soon what I have found.”

“Lose what you have found, lord?” She answered; but she looked at me in all seriousness, and her eyes were kind. They sparkled at me and did not show the worry that she displayed in her stature. “I know not what in these days that you have found that you could lose. But come, my friend, let us not speak of it! Let us not speak at all! I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but whether there is any light behind me I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom.”

I relaxed slightly, but still held her close. “Yes, we wait for the stroke of doom.” Then we said no more. We stood there in silence. It seemed to me that as we stood there the wind died, and the light failed, and the sun was dull and blotted out by the clouds. It seemed that all the sounds in the city disappeared or in the lands about were hushed: neither wind, nor voice, nor bird-call, nor rustle of leaf, nor our own breath could be heard. The beating of our hearts was stilled. Time halted.

Éowyn raised her hands up to where I had clasped mine around her mantle. And our hands clasped though we did not know it at the time. And we waited, even though I do not know for what. Then in the distance, there was a rumbling; an earthquake!

We steadied ourselves as the ground below us shook. In the distance, mountain after mountain fell, as if a rolling wave should engulf the world. And in their place, another mountain rose, one after another. It was the dream of the end of Númenor coming true – where a great wave rolled over the mountains and the valley. About them, lightening flickered and then tremor continued to run through the earth. We felt the walls of Minas Tirith shake, but the structure held! And then a sound, like a sigh, went up from all the lands about them.

Our hearts beat suddenly again. Everything was still and quiet.
I instantly thought of the stories that I read, and the tales that Gandalf told me about our history. “It reminds me of Númenor,” I said and was shocked to hear myself speak.

“Of Númenor?” said Éowyn.

“Yes,” I said, “of the land of Westernesse that foundered, and of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills, and coming on, darkness unescapable. I often dream of it.”

“Then you think that the Darkness is coming?” said Éowyn.

“Darkness Unescapable?” She shuddered and drew even closer to me. My heart soared!

“No,” I said. I turned her around so that I could face her. “It was but a picture in the mind. I do not know what is happening. The reason of my waking mind tells me that great evil has befallen and we stand at the end of days. But my heart says nay; and all my limbs are light, and a hope and joy are come to me that no reason can deny. Éowyn, Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, in this hour I do not believe that any darkness will endure!” And then boldly, I stooped forward and kissed her brow. She turned back around to view the landscape and I drew her close again.
And so we stood on the walls of the City of Gondor, and a great wind rose and blew, and our hair streamed out into the air and mingled, and stuck to the tears on our faces. Then suddenly, the Shadow departed, and the Sun unveiled itself from behind dark clouds and the light leaped forth; and the waters of the Anduin shone like silver, and in all the houses of the City one could hear men and women sing for the joy that swelled up in their hearts from what source they could not tell.
And before the Sun had fallen far from the noon out of the East there came a great Eagle flying, and he bore tidings beyond hope from the Lords of the West crying that the Realm of Sauron is ended forever and the Dark Tower is thrown down!

The days that followed were golden, and the spring and summer joined and made revel together in the fields of Gondor. Tidings now came by swift riders from Cair Andros of all that was done and the City made ready for the coming of the King. Merry was summoned and rode away with the merchants that took store of goods to Osgiliath and thence by ship to Cair Andros, but Faramir did not go, for now being healed he took upon himself his authority as Steward.
Éomer had summoned me begging me to come to the field of Cornmallen. I did not go. For what purpose? I stood in the gardens alone, for I saw Faramir seldom. The Darkness and shadow, I could feel it – it was returning to me.

To Be Continued…

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