periantari

“Are you all right?” asked an anxious Pippin.

“Why, yes, I believe so,” Faramir turned to his good side and peered at the hobbit when he recovered in the Houses of Healing. “I have had strange dreams, but I'm glad to be awake.”

“Do you need water or food or anything?” Pippin was eager to help. He was helping Merry right before, but Merry had fallen asleep, so he went to the next room to see that the Steward had awakened. He was worried for so long that Faramir would not recover, but Beregond had told him that Faramir had awakened after Aragorn had seen him. He was so glad his efforts with Gandalf were not in vain.

“I need some water,” Faramir felt parched and still weary, but his mind was racing with thoughts. “Tell me, what has happened since the Siege? Which day is today? Where is my father? No one has told me details yet. Do you know?” Faramir looked at Pippin expectedly.

Pippin fidgeted nervously. Gandalf had told him not to tell Faramir anything so he decided to answer in bits and avoid the topic of the Steward.  He poured a glass of water for Faramir and spoke slowly.

“He is not here, but I do not know the details. How do you fare? You've gone through a lot.” Pippin evasively gave as many details about Faramir’s health and what day it was instead of about Denethor.

“The battle and the arrow ... .” Faramir closed his eyes. “We were sorely outnumbered. I wonder which of my men are still alive…” He paused and felt dizzy at the prospect of knowing the truth. “Do you know anything else? I must see MIthrandir or my uncle- they will know about Father and what other information I seek to know.”

“You will know in time,” said PIppin gently. “For now, please recover. Strider only helped you out of the Black Breath and fever hours ago.  Please let me know if you need anything.” Pippin looked at Faramir with pity and concern. He knew why Gondorians held him to high esteem- even in healing, Faramir seemed like a humble unassuming man. Pippin felt glad that he told Gandalf to save his life even though others were not saved.

Faramir thought about the battle and his father and sometimes images of fire would persist in his dreams. His whole right side was sore, and he couldn't move properly. He sighed and looked out the window; the weather was overcast with dark clouds hanging. Before he could ask anything else, Ioreth came with some assistants with some bandages and medicinal teas to tend to him.

“We need a moment –we must make sure the wound is getting better and to tend to the Steward,” said Ioreth to the hobbit signaling him to leave.

“I’ll be back later, Lord Faramir– don’t worry, just recover for now,” reassured Pippin.

“Thank you, please come soon again.” Faramir did not know at this time, but he felt some strange affinity to the hobbit and indeed he wanted his company for he felt quite alone and still weak. 

Ioreth and the assistant nurses changed the wound, gave Faramir some medicine, coaxed him to some broth, and left him with instructions to not overtax himself since it was the first time he had awakened for several days.  Faramir was in no mood to do more than lie in bed and think about all that has happened. However, he felt drowsy and before he could ask for the hobbit or his uncle or Mithrandir, he fell into deep slumber.

It was nighttime when Faramir awoke again and he felt stronger than the previous time but he had strange dreams that hung in his consciousness that he could not fully make out. He really wanted some answers to why he was Steward and what happened to Father. A pang of sorrow took over his thoughts but fortunately, a familiar face was next to him when he woke. 

“My Lord, glad to see you up- how are you feeling? Do you need anything immediate?” Beregond helped his Lord to a sitting position, helping Faramir to some water.

“Tell me, Beregond, where is Father and why won't anyone say anything to me on where he is but address me as Steward? I know it is something awful that has happened to him?” 

Beregond also looked down and did not look at Faramir. “He perished at the war–”

“But how?”

“You will know in time but the healers instructed me to help you with whatever you need –are you hungry or in pain?”

The pain of not knowing everything was what was on Faramir’s mind, but he knew it was serious if no one would tell him. He felt numb and weary of asking for more and he assessed he did need time with his physical state.

“Do you know who found me on the field and brought me forth? How long have I been in bed?”

“Prince Imrahil brought you forth from battle. You suffered from an arrow wound from a Southron. You were non responsive, in deep fever for many days- no one could bring you forth from the fever– we thought you …you would have…perished,” said Beregond with tears in his eyes.  “But thank goodness for the King who drew you from your dark dreams.”

“Yes, I did see the King come back and that is hopeful. Do you know where he is now?”

“I believe he was tending to others that were sorely hurt including another hobbit and a lady of Rohan but now the Lords are planning one last stand at the Black Gate.”

“Another stand? Then I must fight alongside everyone - when are you leaving?” 

“I do not think you are able in your state,” Beregond said softly.  “We are leaving tomorrow.”

Faramir didn’t want to admit that Beregond was right. His whole right side was bandaged and his sword hand was sore. He was weary, and he was recovering from a terrible bout of fever. He needed to try to stand, but a wave of nausea hit him and he lay back down, flushed and embarrassed at his weakness.

“Do you know if the healers can come to tell me when I am able to be myself?” asked Faramir.

“I will bring them forward as you wish, my Lord,” replied Beregond and he went to find Ioreth.

“My lord, so glad to see you awake.  The King has left instructions that you are to recover your strength for you are our Steward now, and we need you to be in optimal health to help with the recovery of the city.  You are to take poppy seed for pain and we will have healers help with shoulder mobility.  If you cannot sleep, we have something for that too. Please let us know. Tke your time to regain your strength, Steward! The Warden will see if you are able to walk in the garden tomorrow,” said Ioreh as she changed some cloths for Faramir and made sure he received the next meal.

Faramir did not want to lay idle as the war was not over, but it seemed that Beregond read his mind, “Do not worry, my lord. The King, Mithrandir, the future king of Rohan, and your uncle are to ride to our last stand. I am going as well with Pippin that visited you before.”

“Pippin? Yes, I met him again. I hope that you will both return unharmed at the Black Gate if that is indeed the strategy that Mithrandir advises.”

“Yes, and when we return, you will be well enough to order us in the new age,” said Beregond. He was saying this to ease Faramir and to make him less worried. Beregond did not know what would happen at the last stand, and he felt he was speaking more of unrealistic hope than what he truly felt.

Faramir sighed. “Go with the hope of all of MIddle-earth, Beregond. Please keep safe.  Please keep safe,” Faramir repeated. Faramir still had more questions than answers but pressing for answers made him feel anxious and Beregond did not speak anymore, busying himself with helping Faramir with food, drink and anything he may need.

“Look after my Bergil, will you? He is around and he can also serve you,” said Beregond.

“Thank you- I will be sure to.”

Just then, Pippin made an appearance again. “Lord Faramir, so glad to see you awake- how are you feeling?”

“Better than most- be careful at the Black Gate, Pippin. Hope we will exchange stories soon when you return,” said Faramir.

“Yes, I hope we will return to see you and to tell you how we managed,” said Pippin. He just hoped that he could help Frodo and Sam with more time and he wanted, more than anything, to make a difference for his friends.

TBC

Even the stoutest hobbit felt all hope dissolve when he thought his master had died. How could he go on without Mr. Frodo? How could the wisest expect ole Samwise to go on?

And finish he must because he was all that was left of the Fellowship at that moment. 

He reluctantly said goodbye to his master, kissed him one last time.

Overhearing the orcs when they arrived to say that his master was not dead made him less doubtful of what had to be done.

Doubt melted away, hope returned. He had to finish the job with his master.

After the funeral, heavy rain kept pouring in Rohan. It seemed that the sky too, was mourning the loss of King Theoden.

Eowyn kept thinking about the good times with her uncle and all the caring ways in which Theoden had raised her and Eomer.

“I would have you smile again not grieve for those whose time had come.”**

She remembered his words, but she could not feel solace.  Tears kept pouring from her eyes. Theoden was like a father to her.

Then, she felt someone by her side. It was Faramir.  His eyes were gentle, understanding. All he did was hold her at the moment. 

And she was grateful for that sweet embrace.

**From movie RotK, word count does not include the quote.

“Come now, is the dream that bad? Please talk to me,” Eowyn gathered Faramir in his arms and willed him to consciousness. Sweat had gathered and Faramir looked disoriented briefly but smiled to see Eowyn next to him. Eowyn placed a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat from his raven hair and stroked Faramir’s back comfortingly. 

It was a bad night in which nightmares returned. It was the anniversary of Boromir’s passing and even though Faramir claimed he was alright, he did not speak, was silent the whole day and kept his distance, locking himself in his study during the day and retreating from Eowyn. The night before, he would dream every few hours, and Eowyn tried her hardest to comfort him and have him open up. At first Faramir was withdrawn and Eowyn feared the Black Breath had returned since Faramir was also cool on his shoulder area, but Eowyn had athelas handy and it proved useful to bringing him to the present . Eowyn also made sure there were some warm cloths to warm up Faramir. She made sure Faramir was alright though she knew he would be loath to say he was otherwise.

“Here, have some tea, my dearest.” Eowyn made sure the tea wasn’t too hot to guide it to her husband’s lips. Faramir sat up to receive some of the tea. 

“Thank you,” said Faramir quietly. “I am sorry to alarm you, my love.” Faramir’s pulse had returned to normal and his eyes were clearer and not glazed. “Just…dreams…”

“Do you want to talk about your dreams?”

Faramir paused but then said in one breath, “Fire, and blood from the battle, and …Boromir’s corpse… in the middle of the Anduin and i… i… cannot save him.” He leaned into Eowyn and she firmly embraced him. “And my friends…and …father,” Tears gathered once more. He trembled and even though Eowyn had the fire up and burning, it still seemed too cool that February night. The fire only brought snatches of memory of almost being burnt alive. Faramir shivered with the memory once more.

“It is not your fault, please believe me,” said Eowyn, and she kissed him to bring him to the present and drew more blankets for him. “Stay present with me. We are here together. I know you loved Boromir and fellow soldiers. We will do our annual ritual trip to Parth Galen? We will also make sure to write to your friends’ families and see how they are.”

“Yes, that is a good idea- let’s do that tomorrow.” Faramir paused. “I’m sorry, Eowyn.”

“Why are you apologetic? I love you. I fear that it must be that the dark times come forth but we will see each other through,” Eowyn brought a handkerchief for Faramir’s tears. Tears had gathered in Eowyn’s own eyes. Eowyn had suffered dreams herself but hadn’t bothered Faramir about it. Her dark times would come as well in this season of darkness where it marked one year since the destruction of the Ring and the losses that came with it.

She feared to see Faramir this way and hoped he could see how valued and important he was . Aragorn had told Eowyn that he was invaluable as Steward and Prince of Ithilien as well as a dear friend to the king .

“As do I –thank you for being here for me.”

“I would not be with anyone else, and you’re mine to keep safe and happy.” Eowyn tried to keep Faramir’s spirits brighter- he had been so down the past day.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Faramir looked into Eowyn’s eyes in admiration and love. He held onto Eowyn’s hands. He just noticed he had stopped shivering.

“You are the best man of Gondor and Middle-earth and I am the one lucky to have you!” Eowyn kissed Faramir on the lips .

“We are both lucky,” Faramir then folded Eowyn to a huge embrace and kissed her back.

Faramir did not know what rest was until he was relegated to the Houses of Healing as he was recovering from the battle. He was under strict orders from Ioreth and the Warden that he not overexert himself. He was not accustomed to be bedridden for so long.

“Do you know when I can at least walk in the gardens?”

“You need to regain your appetite first and show us some strength.”

He had felt weak at first, but he was determined to recover; he wanted to stay hopeful despite the despair the city and he were feeling.

“Rest now and recover your strength. You will be needed more since you are the new Steward.”

Faramir did not understand, and no one told him details of his father’s demise. Another darkness laid upon his troubled heart. How he longed for the garden to at least let him not dwell on something he could not control.

That week, he finally felt better helping himself up from bed, felt more mobility from his shoulder, finished most of his breakfast, and thus was allowed out into the garden.

He felt most rested when he saw the most beautiful being come into his life.

Éowyn: The city has fallen silent. There is no warmth left in the sun. It grows so cold.

Faramir: It’s just the damp of the first spring rain. I do not believe this darkness will endure.

Eowyn looked at Faramir hopefully. She did not know why being held close during this dark time was so comforting. Faramir seemed to look better, recovering as the days passed by. There was a shadow but there was also hope. She and this young shared similarities they could only understand.

After finding each other’s hands and standing close to each other, Faramir was first to speak words of comfort that made her less fearful. Her dreams had been dark as of late. She wonders about the young man and what he had lost. Merry had spoken about Boromir to her.

“I am sorry about your brother– we knew Boromir to be a most formidable warrior.” Eowyn tried to offer her condolences. 

“Thank you, my lady.” Faramir’s eyes looked deeply grieved at the mention.

“We seem to be no strangers to loss but hope we can see the day when our soldiers return from the Black Gate.”

“They will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I dreamt that we can have a better age despite the loss that we have to endure.”

Eowyn willed herself to believe so, and at that moment, she saw no one but Faramir in her future.

The dim sounding of the horn of Gondor sent foreboding and dreadful thoughts to Faramir’s consciousness, and both he and his father did not want to state the fear and anxiety they felt about Boromir.

His father closed himself off and Faramir felt himself do the same and resort to his private thoughts when he could desensitize himself from reality. How else could he move on and lead his men in this time of uncertainty, challenge, and stress?

He imagined better days of Gondor at peace, where he could relish in the books of Numenorian poetry and history he loved. And perhaps spend some time in the gardens where he loved to plant.  One day, his sword would not be used to kill, rather hung up as a memorial to show his sons and daughters they went through a darker time and now was time of peace to remember the fallen, to remember Gondor in its glory. He would tell them, “Remember Gondor in its might, and the King had returned to deliver our peace.”

But now, he had to face the enemy. Stop your daydreaming. He took a deep breath, and continued to lead, delegate and charge the Enemy.

Sam’s strength came from the anger he had acquired from being so utterly betrayed by treacherous Gollum. He did not know what strength he had or if he could match that dreadful beast, he used all his strength to take out her eye, then when she tried to smother him, he was already ready with a knife striking at her age-old hide.

The lights almost went out but saving Frodo took precedence and kept him going at that dark hour.

He almost swooned at the stench of her blood. All lights had gone out; his only thought, free Mr. Frodo.

A/N-- for the tolkien100 challenge "Lights Out"

The birthdays after his parents' passing were low key events, and Frodo did not want to celebrate them. Why would he since he felt so alone and no one there to care about him? He did not feel the need to be happy again and birthdays always reminded him of mathoms he had to give. He had rather escaped to the hills and forests alone with his books and wished he were away from Brandy Hall.

However, his young cousin, Merry would remember and always brought him a cake. His uncle Sara and Aunt Esme remembered too and cheered him with his favorite foods. He was grateful, but he felt like it was not the same as his parents being there. He learned to try to be happy with what he had but he missed his parents dearly.

The birthday that Bilbo started appearing, he cheered a little more. Bilbo always made him laugh and Frodo found it funny that he shared a birthday with him.  Bilbo shared stories of his adventures, and treated him like his own son.

“Will you live with me one day, my lad?” asked Bilbo one day when they were observing the stars outside. Bilbo had let him stay up that night and was telling him all about the Middle-earth constellations.

“Will you want me to?” Frodo never thought about the prospect of leaving Brandy Hall but would like to return to Hobbiton where he grew up before his parents' passing.

“Perhaps it can be arranged one day,” said Bilbo with a twinkle in his eye.

On one of their birthdays, Bilbo again came to Brandy Hall to visit and made a special announcement to everyone. “With everyone’s permission, you may know that I am quite old now, 99 to be exact and I need an heir. I would like to formally adopt Frodo as my heir and have him move to Bag End as soon as he is ready.”

“I think Frodo can make the choice of whether he wants to move,” said Esme.

Merry looked sad; he did not want Frodo to go. But he wanted his cousin to be happy too. He did not know what to think.

Frodo did not know to be amazed, happy or sad, but he felt indeed excited at the prospect. He had loved Brandy Hall and would miss Merry but celebrating birthdays with Bilbo sounded even more exciting and he wanted to learn more from his seemingly eccentric yet fun uncle. Their combined birthday parties would be easier to coordinate once he had moved to Bag End. He also looked forward to a new life in Bag End and in Hobbiton where he lived his childhood.

He had decided– he would leave Brandy Hall in a month. He wanted to live with Bilbo and be his heir. He felt very lucky.

“Will you remember to write to me?” asked a despondent looking Merry.

“Yes, I will and i will also visit as much as I can,” replied Frodo. “I will never forget you, Merry-mine and that is a promise to always be there for you too.

The next year, Bilbo threw the most extravagant party yet– he turned 100 and Frodo turned 22. He invited the Brandybucks, Tools, most of his neighbors and he didn’t make it a secret he was happy he had Frodo as his heir. Frodo felt so very welcome and happy in the love and great attention that Bilbo had bestowed to him.  His bed and pillows were new, he had his own office and library and the tunnels of Bag End were endless for him to explore. The pantries were always full and Bilbo did not make any strict rules for him to follow. He was indeed the master of his own home at Bag End.

“Thank you for everything, Bilbo– all this is very wonderful.”

Frodo did make sure to write to Merry and visit Brandy Hall as much as he could since he did miss Merry and wanted to make sure he did not feel sad or left behind. He also invited Merry to come to Hobbiton too.

From Frodo’s birthday from 23 to 32, Bilbo did not skip a beat with extravagant birthdays and mathom giving. Frodo did not remember it being such a special time. The parties and food were the best from his uncle.

The birthdays were not the best part of being with Bilbo– he thought the Elvish lessons, history of Middle-earth and Bilbo’s stories of adventures were the best. He wondered if one day he would have the courage to go on an adventure away from the Shire. He had also met his best friend next door– Samwise was shy but he adored the younger hobbit’s personality and heart.

“Thank you for giving me a home again, uncle,” said Frodo one night to Bilbo when Bilbo tucked him into bed.

“Why, you ‘re quite welcome, my lad. I am glad to be there for you and am grateful for you in my life,” replied Bilbo with a kiss on Frodo’s forehead. “We Baggins stick together through thick and thin. Remember you are special and strong, in here,” Bilbo mentioned to his heart, “and here” and Bilbo pointed to Frodo’s head.

“Do you think one day, I will go on an adventure? Is it scary to go outside of the Shire? Will you bring me to at least Rivendell? I would like to see the elves,” said Frodo thoughtfully.

“It is a far journey and it's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”***

At the moment, Frodo felt peaceful in his comfortable bed. He would think of adventures later. Right now, he was content to feel so loved by his uncle and grateful for the love he feels daily.

**from book Fellowship of the Ring

They were all gone. The crushing reality hit hard at the Houses of Healing where I was still trying to recover physically. They did not tell me how Father died and I wondered at that but my heart grieved nevertheless at the uncertainty of it all. Would it help now to know all the details of how he perished? The more important fact was that now I was alone and the Steward of Gondor Thinking about details made me worry and feel more despair, more than I already felt. THe hollowless did not dissipate and my heart was heavy with sorrow.

The news of death and the siege hit me with such ferocity that I did not want to speak with anyone . What could anyone say to allay the hopelessness and despair ?

Many days and nights passed trying to heal in the Houses of Healing. I had to take it day by day, learning how to live again. Clean, eat, dress, listen to the healers and their remedies I had to take and repeat. My appetite waned at times; I was also in no mood for company that tried to accompany me. Did I have any choice? The road to recovery took some strength and willpower. Who would take care of me but myself? Would it be so easy without any support? Beregond and Bergil were there. I wondered how many of my fellow soldiers also were recovering or had perished. I wondered if others were as lucky as I was physically. 

I had chosen life but did not anticipate it to be so lonely. However I knew I was not alone. It was a different type of alone that I had never felt before. Yes, there were those who cared so much about my well-being but poor Boromir and father and my soldiers who perished in the battle of the Causeway Forts. I could never bring them back.

I tried to seek others who needed healing to chase away the dark thoughts. Be careful of the Black Breath, Ioreth had said. She said I had suffered from it and needed to resist dark thoughts if I could help it. I tried to heed the advice but it was difficult though there were many friends who visited.

I was heartened by another hobbit who was also recovering . Merry played his part in the war and slew the Witch-king. I was amazed at that feat and also of his light personality and seemed to understand what I was going through and did not need me to say much. Inexplicably, his kind had given me hope through these dark uncertain times.

But, the turning point is meeting the White Lady of Rohan. I had never been a believer at love at first sight but this instance was it. If I had been called back to make a difference it was to heal this cold maiden of her hurts for we have walked in the same shadows and been called back by the same hand.

How lovely it was to behold her. The Warden had called me to her when she looked upon me forlornly, wishing to be released and also for a room that looked out in the East. She seemed to be in despair and her sadness moved me to not remember my own sorrow. There was no one that had moved me so much. So I tried to learn as much as I can about her.  And in the five days that we were acquainted, I knew that I had to spend the rest of my life with her.

Hope was what I saw. A feeling I hadn’t felt for a long time. What hope did we have to win this war? But from my convalescence in the Houses of Healing, I had been saved by the future King, was reacquainted with Pippin, Merry, and now Eowyn and it could not be coincidence that this was not in Eru’s intention that I keep the hope instead.

Our hope had all followed the King and all his men to give Frodo another chance to destroy the Ring; distracting the Dark Lord to what really mattered. Our hearts were fearful but we had to keep the hope. We looked out for tidings that did not come. 

And then in those days of waiting, my perception of Eowyn became even more clear. She exudes loveliness and I could not help but feel like she would be queenly in my mother’s blue mantle; therefore I asked for it to be sent for. She took it gratefully but she was still doubtful of me and I had to make her see my intentions were real. Time could only show her that I wanted to make her mine. I could tell her at that moment because we did not know what outcome there would be. Rather perish together than alone. 

Time stopped and I did not hear anything in the land. It seemed that all creatures and air had stopped to wait for the final blow. I did not know that our hands had touched so gently and slowly.

I chose to share with her that this reminded me of Numenor. She made me think that this was not the Darkness that was threatening to come. Instead my heart felt light and in that hour, I did not think that the darkness would endure. 

“Eowyn, Eowyn White Lady of Rohan, in this hours I do not believe that any darkness will endure. **And I gently kissed her on the brow.

And yes, there was finally a hopeful and cheerful sign that the Shadow had indeed departed and everyone started to sing. We saw the Eagles flying and we knew that the Dark Lord had fallen.

How hopeful and how beautiful was that moment as Eowyn and I embraced each other and we  sang with the people who were rejoicing at the victory.

~fin~