Battle Cries

Days passed and Eowyn's wound began the process of healing. The wound between she and Faramir worsened. Weeks passed and Faramir still neglected to mention a word. Eowyn dropped the whole subject. Months passed and Eowyn's belly grew round. Still radiant in her beauty, Faramir saw the sight of her motherly glow. Soon, he would have a child. How could he carry his burden then?

The days grew shorter and the nights became longer. Winter was almost upon them. Though she still shared the same bed with him, Faramir could tell that his secrets kept troubled Eowyn to the day. The bed seemed cold and empty. Their intimitcy (or lack of) always reminded him of it. How could Faramir expect anything different from her?

Faramir drew his cover past his bare muscular chest and over his head slightly. Perhaps he could hide from the world? No...that would be selfish, cowardly, and stupid. He was none of those characteristics, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. It was time to face this constant reminder head on.


Faramir jolted through the bushes and replayed each event as he remembered it. The two hobbits passed him, pursuited closely by Boromir. Faramir watched to the North as some Uruk-hai fought and died before Boromir's feet. Then, he took in the other direction of the battle, searching for the leader with the bow and arrows.

He pivited in Boromir's direction as Boromir yelped out in pain. Faramir turned ghostly white, as he wanted to choke at the sudden lump in his throat. The second and third arrows struck Boromir in the chest. As he fell to his knees, the hobbits were carried off. He saw who stood before him with bow and arrows. Faramir looked upon a mirror image and then awoke.

Faramir coughed and choked before clearing his throat. The image in his dreams had finally become clear to him.

"Faramir, what?" asked Eowyn, rolling over.

The last candelight flickered in Faramir's eyes. He lowered his head.

"Do not look upon me, my love," Faramir answered humbly. "You look upon the face of a killer."

Eowyn immediately sat and lit another candle. She brushed her hair behind her shoulders and placed her hands on her stomach.

"Faramir, why, what has happened?" she demanded to know this time. "You are making no sense. Killer? Killer of what?"

Faramir met his eyes with hers. She gleamed in both worry and wonderment.

"My brother."

"You are delirious, my husband," Eowyn stated. "You were not even there."

Faramir's face flushed cherry red. "Well, I might as well have been. In my dreams, his death haunts me."

"Will you tell me now what happened?" Eowyn asked. "Will you speak to me of Boromir?"

Faramir paused for a moment and began. "You may call me selfish and even jealous. Well, maybe I was. Maybe I still am. Though the son of a Steward of Gondor, life was no easy task for me. My brother was the best at everything he did. I tried and I tried, but I could never surpreme over my brother. I couldn't even keep up with him. My father, he never truly looked at me as his son. To him, Boromir was his one son. There was no Faramir."

A tear ran down Faramir's rugged chin and Eowyn held his hand tightly. He continued:

"While growing up, I learned everything from Boromir. He was both my brother and my father. I guess I never really lost hope though, that someday I could earn my father's love. When Sauron declared war against Middle-Earth, it was sudden when Boromir said he was leaving. I tried to persuade him to stay and let me go to Lord Elrond's counsel, but he would not hear of it."

"He loved you so," Eowyn noted.

Faramir nodded. "After the news of Boromir's death, my father still cared more for Boromir. He cared more of his first born's death, then of his youngest son that lived still. The fact was simply this: my father wished the situation had been reversed....that I had died and Boromir had lived. In my dreams, I think maybe that's why I held the weapon that struck my brother dead. Pure hurt and pity. My father was right, I think; it should have been me."

"No," Eowyn said, placing her hands on her husband's face.

"How do you know?" Faramir asked hoarsely.

Eowyn placed his hand over her stomach and he felt the baby's kick. "Because of this."

Faramir arched his arm around his lovely wife, held her closely, and kissed her above her forehead.

"I love you, my wife."