This was a story born of the question about Faramir's post-Quest recovery given the fact that he did lose both brother and father in a short period of time and it must've been tough. I didn't feel that there was enough stories to address this. Also, Tolkien made it seem he recovered fast in the Houses of Healing with Eowyn but I think there is more to the story. Tolkien ended Faramir and Eowyn's story in "Many Partings" when they were betrothed and did not mention their fate in appendices or letters or even much in HOME (did mention they wed in 3020 in Rohan which is a very appreciated detail.) 

That night, Faramir ventured out to find the hobbits. He found that they were all recounting stories from the Quest and  felt heartened by being near them and learning more about what had befallen all of them. His road had not been the darkest. His reunion with Sam and Frodo was joyous and he was glad to see them healed. They had a grueling time in Mordor, the hardest road of them all. Sam was constantly looking after his master.  Frodo was still seemingly detached from the company. He asked him how he was.

“Frodo, the Ringbearer, has succeeded and it’s because of you we are celebrating now instead of all being destroyed.” Faramir embraced both Frodo and Sam. Sam blushed red as a tomato.

“I could not have done it without Sam, my dearest friend,” replied Frodo, smiling at Sam.

“You both had a difficult time and we are so grateful that you both made it back to us and he can rejoice as the Fourth Age begins. It is all because of you,” said Faramir. 

“We have been trying to get Cousin Frodo to smile and tell him that he did the best he could,” said Merry, nudging Frodo.

“He is still quiet, so we will talk to you about our adventures, Faramir,” said Pippin. “Did we mention the Ents and the storming of Isengard?”

“Those were the days before the war started, wasn’t it Pip? Before you got in trouble with the palantir? I told you not to go near that.”

“And you go on about Ents again, Pippin- they must have been amazing to see?” asked Sam.

The palantir… Even the slight mention of that made  Faramir feel queasy and his heartbeat increased. The rest of the conversation suddenly felt far and muted. He had never heard the full story about his father even now. He was too busy thinking of how to rebuild the city, that he had never really thought about how his father became ensnared by the enemy or any of the details. He shuddered, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Did he really want to know the whole truth? Faramir had gathered bits and pieces from Gandalf, but he had never sat down to listen to the full tale. He was recovering, then busy with coronation planning and the recovery of the city. He did not mean to remain ignorant.

“Faramir?”

Frodo looked at Faramir’s pale face, his gray eyes seemingly unfocused or looking far away deep in thought. “Are you all right?”

Faramir needed to hear the full story. He knew Pippin knew. “I desire to know the full tale. Pippin - you were there during his last moments… How exactly did Denethor …die? Please tell me.”

Pippin looked uncomfortable and downright apologetic. He looked at Merry, at Sam and then at Frodo, then at Faramir. No words would come out at first since he felt so ill at ease. 

“I thought that Gandalf had told you,” murmured Pippin.

“No, no one has told me the full tale, just bits and pieces, and I need to know now,” said Faramir firmly. What good lay in denial of what had occurred? It was no use avoiding the truth. He anticipated the worst.

“You came back from the retreat and Lord Denethor thought that you were dead. He lost all hope. He ordered the men to bring you to Rath Dinen.  The city was under siege. He wanted …to… burn himself and you…. together,” said Pippin quickly with tears in his eyes. “We knew he used the palantir because he was different all throughout the time during the Siege, especially after you were brought back. He wasn’t in his right mind and no one could sway him to reconsider his choice. Gandalf tried too. Beregond left his post and in order to prevent Denethor from doing the deed, slew the porter. Gandalf tried …to tell Denethor not to destroy himself but was not ….not … successful.” Pippin finished and looked down at his toes, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. Merry put his arm on Pippin. The other hobbits looked sadly at Faramir with pity and concern.

It was interesting that his father wanted him to accompany in death. At least Denethor wanted them together. No wonder he saw fire in his dreams; now they made sense.  

“I thank you for telling me the truth. I am grateful, and I fully understand why you and Mithrandir thought it wise to wait. I also know now why I keep dreaming of fire. ” Faramir reassured him, even as his own heart was breaking anew. He put his hands towards his eyes, shielding the tears that were threatening to gather. 

“You have to be careful of the dreams,” said Merry. “I dream a lot too, especially after I struck that evil Witch-king and the dreams have a dark aspect to it,” Merry shuddered, as Frodo pulled him close.

“Is that right?” Faramir asked. 

“Weren't you not alright in Bree, Merry? After you ventured out and Nob found you face down in the puddle?” asked Sam.

“Yes, and Strider told me to be careful and report to him if the dreams reoccur. Lady Eowyn, Faramir, and I suffered from the Black Breath,” said Merry. “Strider pulled us back from death with athelas. I’m so glad he came in the nick of time.”

“Have any dreams been recurring, Merry?” asked Frodo.

“I am better since you all have recovered, but it was hard anticipating at the Houses of Healing, and waiting for you all to wake,” said Merry quietly. “Pippin was injured, you two were recovering from …Mordor,” said Merry softly. “It’s a relief; I’m better now.”

“How about you, Faramir?” asked Frodo.

Faramir evaded the question. “I’m glad you're better now, Merry. Now please pardon me,” 

Faramir hastily took his leave of the hobbits despite their reluctance for him to part from them. He could not shake the deep sadness from the news of how his father perished. His heart felt heavy. He needed to collect his thoughts to prevent himself from doing anything rash.

TBC 

It was harder to sleep than past nights. Faramir tossed and turned in his bed until late. Even the sleeping draught Aragorn gave him wasn’t working. Faramir’s shoulder ached and every time he closed his eyes, the fire and hollow darkness threatened to swallow him whole? . It reminded him of his fevered dreams in the Houses of Healing. Was there no escape?

He wept quietly, remembering his father in all the good ways he could. Yes, he was harsh with him and they hadn’t seen eye to eye on many matters of state, but he was kind to him during his childhood and wanted the best for him. Even though he berated him for daydreaming, writing too much, and not paying attention in arms class nor valuing the sword as much as Boromir. 

Even though he clearly favored Boromir, he did not deserve such a fate. He would forgive his favoritism. All of Denethor’s life was dedicated to protecting Gondor. He had played his part but he shouldn’t have perished the way he did. He would learn in his heart to forgive him for he didn’t want to hold a grudge against the dead. But how could his father take his own life during such a key moment? Why did he use the palantir? He was not sure how to process that.

His weeping left him more tired than usual. He closed his eyes but all he could see was his father sending him out with no blessing. He would not have peace of mind concerning his father.  He could never say his final words. But did he care at the end? Is that why he wanted to burn him too? So that they could be together in the afterlife? Did it even make sense to have chosen life?

Faramir shivered, his tears subsiding but giving way to anxiety and fears that would not abate. He remembered when Aragorn drew him back from death and saved him in the Houses of Healing– how easy it was to not choose life. He was drawn back; he was holding out for something. Was it going to get easier to handle everything? He was hopeful, but his heart was heavy and he could not come to terms with how his father met his death. How was he going to say a few words at the funeral procession that he wanted to have?  How his father died was too tragic to mention. He could not say he fell into madness. What would others think about the line of Hurin? Would they mark him for a madman too?

He needed a strong drink. He kept some bottles hidden from view for when the pain was intolerable from thinking too much. Only a little could numb his senses. He could not change the past after all. 

He used to drink with Boromir and had played drinking games when he became of age. He did not drink in excess when he was on duty, but his friends and he did overindulge a little during a special occasion.  As a result, his tolerance was not the best. Usually only two drinks was his limit. Now, among the friends left to him which were few, he wasn’t sure when he was ready to use spirits to relax. He missed Boromir more than ever.

He went to his stores to grab a bottle of wine–he felt more relaxed after a long sip. The wine dulled his senses. After two glasses, he finally felt a bit drowsy. However, the drowsiness didn’t make him feel better. Instead, a strange darkness seemed to touch upon his consciousness. If there was no knock at the door, something seemed to want to grasp his subconscious and lead him astray. 

But the knock broke him out of his stupor and half dream. Faramir wondered who it could be this late. It was already two hours past midnight.

Faramir was so glad of who it was. Éowyn.

He opened the door quickly, “My dear Lady, It is good to see you but is something wrong that you came at so late an hour risking your reputation? No matter, though, I’ve missed you so much,” Faramir smiled and embraced his betrothed, and Éowyn’s smile brightened his heart immediately.  “How did you know I was in need of company?”

“Sleep has been elusive  – have you been sleepless as well, my love?”

“Yes, it has been hard to—I learned from the hobbits how—how— my father passed… today,” said Faramir with his voice wavering.  ”He…he took his own life and burned himself and wanted to do the same to me too.  Pippin, Mithrandir and Beregond saved me. I cannot sleep knowing this and the truth weighs heavily.”

“I’m so sad to hear this,” Éowyn looked upon Faramir with pity, wrapping him in her arms. His gray eyes were full of unshed tears and she saw the dark circles beneath them. “I'm so sorry about the circumstances around Lord Denethor’s death. Do not fault yourself for what has happened. I am sure your father appreciated you in the end. I apologize I have not been here for you. I’ve also been occupied and there’s much to do before we depart. And I cannot sleep thinking about you. Then I have been having odd dreams about slaying the Witch—” Éowyn couldn't finish, tears gathering in her eyes and falling down her cheeks.

“Shh, my dear, I understand,” and Faramir wrapped his arms around Eowyn tightly. Eowyn leaned in and took in the long embrace. “I’m here for you, I’m here for you.”

Éowyn gently kissed Faramir’s tear stained cheek and said, “I as well- just tell me how you’re feeling please.  We will depart in four days to Edoras to arrange the funeral, but I’ll be back. Will you be alright?”

“Yes, I'll be busy preparing for Denethor’s own funeral procession. We may need more than two days to prepare. Also, I need to settle where the homeless will be housed. And we need to draw up the plans for the first circle’s renovations—”

“Don’t overextend yourself -one thing at a time. You have the King to assist, and you still have to ride out to Edoras to meet me. I wish I could be here for Lord Denethor’s funeral ceremony.  How will you fare? Since you have not been sleeping well and doing too much, you also need to be mindful of your own health.”

Faramir was touched by Éowyn's concern. “You as well. But I’ll be well enough- knowing that you are with me makes me so glad.”

“So glad– and you’re drinking wine without me?” Éowyn gestured towards the third empty bottle and looked at him quizzically.

“I could not sleep,” started Faramir. “The King prescribed me something, but it hasn't worked. And, at times, I’ve been having strange dreams.”

“Neither could I– seek me out instead, and don’t do anything drastic, my Prince,” admonished Eowyn, laying her hands on his and leaned forward to kiss him gently on the cheek. “What do you see in your dreams?”

“Of course I would not,” replied Faramir, kissing Eowyn back, holding onto her hands tightly. He didn’t realize he was shaking. “Please be safe riding back to Edoras. I’ll miss you so much. I miss you already. Regarding my dreams—I–I – can’t speak of them yet,” a shadow of weariness passed and Faramir leaned into Eowyn. The wine had helped but not in the way he intended. He felt out of sorts and there was still a darkness that seemed to want to snatch him. He shuddered, but Eowyn pulled him closer and he felt more at ease and the darkness receded. He snuggled closer to Éowyn. She stroked his raven hair and held onto his hands.

“Yes, I will not either. They’re dark, and I feel like I'm before an abyss all the time, and then I wake in tears, remembering my dear uncle, my cousin’s last words. I dream of the numerous orcs and blood during the battle, and then, then… then i can’t sleep the rest of the night,” finished Éowyn. She held onto Faramir’s waist and then kissed him once more. She felt comforted by his presence, willing him to also feel the same.

They fell into silence for a moment just comforted by each other’s company. Faramir had to be strong for his fair maiden. Éowyn looked sad like how she was at the Houses of Healing. Faramir forgot his own sorrow and spoke words of solace to Éowyn, stroking her long yellow hair.

They talked about happier topics, about the betrothal ceremony and about the trip to Rohan. After speaking for an hour, both felt weary enough to sleep. Faramir escorted Éowyn to her guest quarters.

“Thank you for coming by, my dear Lady,” Faramir kissed Éowyn’s hand, bowed, said goodbye, and walked slowly back to his room. He felt better, but he was still afraid that the nightmares would return.

Faramir fell into a fitful sleep. Images of dark and fire kept rousing him. Waking right before sunrise, Faramir decided to slip into the office earlier to begin work to keep his mind occupied. His appetite was on and off these days, but he found himself hungry after consuming the wine a few hours before.  Recently he relied on strong coffee to keep him awake at all hours of the day when he felt tired which was quite frequent. 

He drew up tentative ceremonial seating arrangements, made assignments for ushers, prepared an announcement to inform the city about the pending funeral procession, and made a list of veteran soldiers who died, all before the Council was due to meet at two hours to noon. Then he left the drafts at the King’s desk for him to look at.

Faramir felt accomplished but also melancholy. He took a walk to clear his mind and get a breath before the meeting, which would take a lot of energy. The list of the dead were mostly people he knew and some he had been close to. It was a lot to process. He sat on a bench in the garden, one of the few in the city that was not mowed down by the enemy, and lowered his head in grief but no tears came. 

TBC

Chapter 4-Ceremony for the Dead

It took four full days to make adequate preparations for the funeral ceremony for Steward Denethor, Captain Boromir, and other fallen soldiers and civilians. The Council, King, Steward, and Prince Imrahil decided to have a small ceremony to read out the names of the fallen and light special candles for Denethor and Boromir to honor them. They announced to all of Minas Tirith to come and a good number of citizens came to honor the dead. Faramir thought it was hard to express his feelings but he would try to do his best despite the heaviness he felt. All the Fellowship were   present. 

The ceremony was arranged in the typical colors of Gondor- white and black. The weather had cooperated with the sun and clear skies. They held the open ceremony where the King was crowned. During the ceremony, there were somber moments of silence, followed by lighting of large white candles  Two larger white candles dedicated to Denethor and Boromir  which were arranged in the front. Flowers were also strewn in front by those who have lost loved ones. There were also letters to heaven to loved ones that have passed. 

The King started with the remarks, “We come here today to honor the fallen. We come together to remember our Steward Denethor, Lord Boromir. Let it not be forgotten how much they have given this city. Let us remember the sacrifices that were made for this moment to come. It is Lord Denethor who kept all of us safe against the Enemy and we must remember his ultimate sacrifice.”

Faramir continued, “I’ve been called to continue the legacy that our Steward created. He was a wise man, noble, strong, and loved our country with all his heart. He gave Gondor his all and may he rest in peace knowing that. May we not forget how he led us all these years under the Shadow. HIs strength was unsurpassed; he was the greatest leader we have seen and I will remember him as a strong and fair father. He taught me wisdom, strength, and justice. He raised Boromir and I to love Gondor, to serve her to our best capability. May his spirit rest with the Valar, beyond the confines of the world! “

Faramir paused, tears gathering but he went on, “For my brother, Boromir– he— will be missed for his strength, wisdom, and companionship. May we never forget his sacrifice to find the truth. Let us never forget the sacrifices he made to retake Osgiliath and to lead our armies in combat. With his leadership, we kept the Enemy away. WIth his tactics, he led with foresight and skill in making the toughest decisions. As a brother, he was the best role model I can ever wish to have. His companionship is sorely missed. He taught us all about what strength means and may Gondor flourish forever more. I loved him more than life, brother of my heart forever. We…everyone would be so lucky to have a brother as I did, and ….“ Faramir paused, tears gathering, but he continued, “and I wish him rest in peace.”

“We need to also honor all the fallen soldiers and their families.  Remember them every Gondorian New Year, we shall light candles for them. May this day be remembered as the Day of Remembrance every year.”

And then, Aragorn and Faramir led the people to sing for the fallen.The Gondorians sang, weeping with heads down.

“My thoughts will return to the sound of your laughter

The magic of moving as one

And a time we'll remember long ever after

The moonlight and music and dancing are done

Will we climb the hills once more?

Will we walk the woods together?

Will I feel you holding me close once again?

Will every song we've sung stay with us forever?

Will you dance in my dreams or my arms until then?”

Under the moon the mountains lie sleeping

Over the lake the stars shine

They wonder if you and I will be keeping

The magic and music, or leave them behind.”**

Then, Aragorn sang the song he dedicated to Boromir at the Falls of Rauros:

"From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;

And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.

"What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?

What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away."

"Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.

His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.

His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;

And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast."

"O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze

To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days."***

Then, Pippin said a few words each about Boromir, “I knew he was a good Big Person- as we say in my country. He taught my kinsman and I how to fight. He was a loyal member of our Fellowship. He kept the mood light and protected us. He fought bravely during the last stand against the Enemy, and I’m sure he loved all of you. May he rest in peace in the Halls of Mandos. Boromir the Brave, I will always honor him, and serve Gondor always in your memory.”

Members of the Council and Prince Imrahil were each assigned to read all the names of the fallen soldiers taking a good half hour.

Faramir felt heavy at heart and tears gathered and he wept silently. Aragorn was beside him, his arm on his shoulder. The hobbits were also beside him.

“I hope that you will come to me, if you need, my friend. We will get through this together,” said Aragorn.

“You spoke well. We will always remember the sacrifices Denethor and Boromir made,” added Frodo solemnly.

“You represent them as we usher in a new age of hope and peace. Let their sacrifices be rewarded with you in their stead to do well for Gondor,” said Gandalf. He had always admired Denethor’s younger son and  developed a great bond with him. That was the reason why he listened to Pippin to save Faramir in the critical moment when he had to choose between continuing to lead the defense or to come to the aid of Faramir. He did not decide lightly on what to do at that time. He was sad he could not save Denethor but glad he saved Faramir and it would be important to have him by Aragorn’s side for rebuilding Gondor and Middle-earth.

“Thank you,” Faramir felt relieved and grateful for his new friends, but he couldn't help the anxious thoughts that continued to chase each other in his mind.

Later that day, there was a ceremonial feast to honor the fallen. While there was food and drink aplenty, Faramir did not feel like staying to entertain. He toasted to his brother and father in the typical fashion in the beginning in front of the guests. Then, he asked permission from the King to be excused and went back to his home early. 

“Will you be alright?” the King asked before Faramir left. 

“I just need some time and space,” replied Faramir. “Thank you for continuing this–I am just weary.”

“Why of course- we know that it has been a long day and I thank you for your planning in this. We would not have had this without your contributions.”

“Yes, it's the least I can do–but please excuse me. I will report earlier tomorrow to see if there is anything left to be done.”

“It’s all right, Faramir, go rest. Let me know if you need more of the sleeping draught as well.” Aragorn’s eyes looked at Faramir with sympathy and his eyes trailed the Steward with concern.

Faramir could not sleep at all that night after the funeral and relied on the wine to help him numb at least some of the pain. At least he can fall asleep somewhat inebriated to make him forget his despair temporarily. The next morning would be another story but first he had to get through the night when unexpected dreams emerged .

…

Faramir did not know what to do with Boromir and Denethor’s personal items. They had no formal body to bury their things with. Did he keep all the items in storage or burn it? . He had to make a decision.

He looked through his brother’s items with admiration; he saw his clothing, swords, and jewelry all arrayed neatly in the room. He felt that he wanted to keep everything there for memory's sake. He saw an old fencing sword, reminding him of their first lesson together, and tears welled in his eyes. Another item-  a picture of them when they first enlisted in the army arm in arm, smiling as they entered manhood. What does one do with the memories and items of the past?

He was not ready to completely let go and get rid of his family’s items.. Everything seemed to be happening too fast. Therefore, he ordered the servants to put many items in storage except for many of Denethor’s clothing, which he felt he could do without. The items in his office were also prepared to be thrown out. Denethor had already dealt with most of Boromir’s clothing at least but certain personal items were still left in the room. Faramir wondered  about  that but did not want to think further about what Denethor would want with Boromir’s items.

Funerals were supposed to be a time for closure.  Faramir wanted to decide which of at least his brother’s belongings served as a good keepsake, a memory. He wanted to sort that out when he didn’t feel so sorrowful. There was too much loss to deal with at the moment.

Thinking about these decisions made Faramir’s heart melancholy again and an unexpected headache started to occur. He tried to get rid of it by massaging his head and drinking some water but the headache remained. Then he got up and started to pace but it did not alleviate his anxiety. Finally after an hour of pacing, his headache abated a little, and he felt weary enough to fall into an uneasy sleep full of increasingly dark dreams.

**Song from Ashokan Farewell- Jay Ungar

*** from “The Two Towers”

…TBC…

Chapter 5 - Worries and Concerns

Éowyn had left before the funeral ceremony, but she was worried. She was worried about Faramir. After the first night when she walked into him drinking, the subsequent two nights, she lay witness to Faramir talking in his dreams and waking frequently. She did not stay the night but made sure he fell asleep again before she left quietly. She kept her hand on his forehead to calm and soothe, and he felt him calm upon her touch. However, when she probed him to speak of the nightmares, and gave him some tea to assuage the fears and keep him present, he would be closed off, not offering any insight to his dreams or opening up to her. 

“I’m fine, dear lady, just a dream, just a dream,” he had insisted. He didn’t want his lady to worry about him as she had to ride off to Rohan. He will recover from the dreams; he always had.

“I do not think you’re alright and you have to let me know how to aid you,” replied Eowyn insistently. “I am opening up to you, and you have to do the same.”

Faramir would not reply. He felt a headache coming on and felt no energy to explain.  “I will be fine, my lady. Now, please excuse me-I have work to do.” Escaping to his office, he did not leave time for any more questions from Eowyn.

Eowyn tried to find him in the morning, but he would have already departed for the day for meetings. Faramir didn’t make time to talk. Finding him during the day was hard -it was either a meeting or he was in his study, closed off.

Faramir was not making things easy, making Eowyn feel upset. She understood his busy mood was because of funeral preparations and duties, but this was not how she wanted to leave. She felt anxious so she went to the hobbits, Merry and Pippin for advice.

She found them with Frodo, Sam, Legolas, and Gimli.  She smiled at them for they seemed to enjoy each other’s company, still recollecting the Quest and filling in the gaps for Frodo to remember to write.

“You all have to talk about the Ents again and how they made you so tall,” Sam said.

“And I still did not tell you how we came up from the river to Gondor so quickly,” Gimli interrupted.

“And i have to tell you who won the battle of killing orcs at Helm’s Deep and that a certain dwarf may have won our game,” said Legolas.

“Frodo will have to be locked up in the tower in Minas Tirith and write it all down. Otherwise he will forget half of it, and poor old Bilbo will be dreadfully disappointed,” said Pippin *** 

“Is that right?” Eowyn said with a grin.

“My lady!” Merry said. “Welcome to us telling stories that must be in Frodo’s book. Do you have one to add? Please tell them how brave I was in slaying the Witch-king with you!”

“That is indeed a tall order,” said Eowyn. “I will share that soon, do not worry. The book will be many many pages. I am sure I would like to read when it’s done. May I speak to you, Merry, alone?”

“What happened?” Pippin asked. “Can I come too?”

“No, nothing is wrong but I am leaving tomorrow and I just want to say my farewell for now. We need to bring our soldiers and horses back to Rohan and then return to take King Theoden too, when the funeral is ready for him in Rohan. But I need a favor from you two,” Eowyn motioned the two hobbits over.

“What happened, my lady?” asked Merry, eyes wide with concern.

Eowyn replied, “I know the funeral for Lord Denethor is tomorrow- I would like to know how Lord Faramir will be in my absence. He has been having dreams lately…and I worry.”

“What kind of dreams?” asked Pippin.  

“Yes, we mentioned how his father passed away just a couple days ago and we talked about the Black Breath during our conversation,” said Merry. “He said nothing about the specifics of his dreams to us either.”

“We need to be on the lookout for him!” said Pippin with resolve. “Is that what you want, my lady?”

“Why yes,” said Eowyn with a smile. The hobbits always made her smile and she was a bit more at ease that the Fellowship was still there. If anything, they could look after her betrothed until they meet again. “You also write to me please if anything is amiss.”

As if Merry was reading her mind, “Yes, we will make it our duty to see how our Steward is. We will make sure he will ride out to Edoras so that he can pay respects to King Theoden—”

“And propose to you in Rohan!” Interrupted Pippin.

Eowyn laughed, “You are all scheming hobbits, but I thank you. Please take good care all of you. ” Then she left and said her goodbyes to the other hobbits and companions and went to Faramir’s quarters.

“What was that about?” asked Frodo.

“Yes, what did our lady require of us?” asked Sam.

“She just wants us to look after Faramir which makes sense,” said Merry softly.  He had remembered Faramir’s healing in the Houses of Healing. He had made sure there was something to occupy him and he felt that there was more to do now than ever. That is why he made sure to introduce the White Lady of Rohan to him. They could mend each other’s hurts. Merry saw in Eowyn’s eyes her need to die in the battlefield, while he learned from Beregond and Pippin the foul mood that took Faramir to ride out to defend Minas Tirith.

“We need to make sure Faramir is well and ready to go to Edoras,” said Pippin.

“Is he suffering from dreams?” asked Frodo quietly.

Everyone looked at Frodo. “Why yes, cousin, that was the concern,” said Merry. “We did tell him to beware the Black Breath.”

“Well everyone is recovering,” Frodo’s blue eyes had a deep look of understanding and his heart wringed with pity. “We should make sure he will be alright tomorrow during the ceremony. We need to see that the work meetings don’t go too long after tomorrow. I’ll ask Strider about seeing him.”

The hobbits, Gimli, and Legolas nodded in agreement to spare some eyes on the Steward, and in the meantime, they continued to talk about lighter matters to keep the hope bright in the new age.

 **taken from Steward and the King, Return of the King 

TBC

“You need to trust me and tell me about everything,” said Eowyn .

“I…am fearful, and I will with time, my dear lady. You’ve helped me a lot already,” replied Faramir resolutely.

“Then let me help you more,” pleaded Eowyn.

“I don’t want darkness to rob us of love and happiness even now. The war is over, let’s try to mend the hurts it has caused.“

“You need to mend also. You need to tell me how I can help!”

“The dreams- they’re dark and I feel like…falling sometimes and I can’t return if…if…” Faramir grabbed Eowyn’s hand and sank slowly sitting on the bed. “But …I… am on the mend- I’m mending the city and that helps …” 

Tears gathered in his eyes and Eowyn just held him close, stroking his raven hair, whispering words of solace .“You should let the King know about this. He will advise you. And know you’re not alone.”

Faramir gathered himself as best he could, muttering words to assure Eowyn he’ll be alright. He stood up and changed the topic, “I have to propose a toast to you for our impending marriage after all and need your brother, the King's blessing,” Faramir smiled wanly. He took a deep breath and firmly said he would be all right, wished Eowyn well on her trip, and promised that he’ll join her soon.

Eowyn had left the next morning with the Rohirrim. She had insisted he write to her, and Faramir said that he would . They departed after a warm embrace. Faramir looked out West as far as his eyes could see to see any trace of Rohan but of course it was too far. His most beloved, his anchor to the present had departed for the time being.

During the time after the funeral Faramir kept occupied with meetings to rebuild Gondor. He had planning meetings on building memorials, on where homeless would be housed, and for reparations for veteran soldiers’ families. The last part of visiting soldiers’ families was challenging. He visited at least two families daily. He felt pangs of pity and despair for the soldier’s families keenly. However, some of those families were becoming good friends of his. There was one young man named Belegion who especially liked it when Faramir visited him. Belegion had also lost his older brother in battle on the Pelennor Fields. Faramir felt Belegion’s pain of losing a brother as well therefore Faramir also started to feel a strong bond with him.

The dreams did come when he felt anxious or too overwrought, and they were more frequent than from before the funeral and Eowyn leaving. Additionally, there was still a darkness with the dreams he couldn’t understand, and he felt increasingly anxious. 

Faramir relied on a drink or two to help numb his anxiety and fall into uneasy sleep when sleep did not come. He was starting to accumulate empty bottles, but he threw them out before the servants came in. He kept promising himself it would not be a habit. If he had time, he would ask the King about a more healthy way to fall asleep and deal with despair.  However, he always found himself talking only about business with the King, unwilling to let his guard down about his insomnia or dreams even when he inquired. He did not want anyone to worry about him and wanted to deal with his dreams alone.

“Faramir, how do you fare– I shall come and look at you after today’s meetings,” said Aragorn.

“No, I am alright- your sleeping drought has helped, there is no need. My King, please look over this plan for the memorial on the first level–” and Faramir changed the topic quickly.

“Are you certain? It is no inconvenience to me. It would be no difficulty. I will supply another drought since it’s helping.“ Aragorn made a note to himself to do so despite the protests that day. Faramir looked tired and despite the energy he has shown in meetings, he was still concerned.  Faramir looked a bit unfocused and drained, too pale even though he did not admit it.

“I feel fine- I would like to have an answer about this memorial location for the architects tomorrow if you so please. Thank you my lord,” and Faramir bowed, then disappeared into his office with no extra words.

The hobbits would find him when he didn’t have meetings . They asked him how he was faring, if he missed Eowyn, how was his sleep. He always nodded that he was fine.  And he was fine. He couldn’t help but smile and be gladdened at the inquisitiveness of hobbits.

The same day that Aragorn inquired about him, he bumped into Gandalf between meetings in the courtyard of Gondor. Faramir hadn’t spoken to Gandalf for a while and was glad to see him.

“Hobbits are always great companions.”

“Yes, one or two in the company are always good but three to four of them is a blessing indeed,” replied Gandalf. He offered some pipeweed to Faramir and he took it gladly, glad to be smoking with an old friend. He breathed into the weed then felt a bit more relaxed. 

“They are strong and will get through these times; I do worry for Frodo because of the burden that he long carried,” said Gandalf thoughtfully.

Faramir felt pity and wondered about that. Would Frodo find peace in Middle-earth? He really hoped he could find peace eventually. It would be so upsetting if he couldn’t enjoy it given the amount of sacrifice he did. “Do you think he needs to return to his Shire to be at peace?”

“The Shire is also not how we all left it,” said Gandalf gravely. “I fear that it was not safe-guarded during the war so maybe Sauron’s agents have had a chance to enter.”

“Hopefully not,” replied Faramir with a sigh. “The war has taken enough.” He felt suddenly sad and angry again, unable to shake the melancholy. It was unfair what the hobbit had gone through and still had to go through. Was there no respite from defeating the Enemy?

“And how are you feeling, my dear lad?” Gandalf perceived a change in mood and looked into Faramir’s grey, somber eyes.

Faramir hadn’t heard him being called lad for a while and laughed out loud, “Truly, I am grown of age and not that young anymore. I am feeling fine, just keeping occupied. There is a lot to restore. I intend to make memorials in the land that was wrecked by the Enemy in the south lot next to the Silent Street, and make some gardens in the area where that pub was destroyed in the first level…We need to honor the fallen–”

“Faramir, how are you feeling?”

“Do you ask about something particular, or is this a general inquiry?” Why was the wizard asking about him now?  He did not like this question being asked . Everyone meant well, but he could care for himself. He felt strangely agitated, heart rate increased, and turned the other way. But he could not avoid Gandalf’s intense look upon him.

“What I mean is, there is a reason why the hobbits are wondering about you. We want to know how you are and there are dangers to keeping things to yourself. It’s a lot to process these days, and we are all adapting to change.”

“Then please allow yourself to tell me how Denethor passed,” replied Faramir hotly. His turn of character was uncharacteristic, but he suddenly felt frustrated with this important matter. He hadn’t talked to Gandalf about it in detail and maybe it was time to do so. He did not need the truth to be evaded and wanted to make sure of the past so he could go on in the future.

“There is nothing left unsaid that the hobbit Peregrin did not already say,” replied Gandalf calmly. “What else do you want to know about the tragedy?”

What else did he want to know? That was a valid question. “Did he mention me at all? Did he care if I lived or died? Did he want me to accompany him and would that have been a bad thing ? Does he …” Faramir sat down and felt a certain darkness creep back in on the periphery and felt tears in his eyes. Those were the most important questions. But how could anyone give him closure? It was not like he could have a conversation with a dead person. Who really understood Denethor in his last moments ?

“I’m sure he remembered and loved you before the end,” replied Gandalf and he put his hand on Faramir’s shoulder and felt the Steward tense up. “I told you before you left to defend Osgiliath that he’ll remember before the end.  Your father loved you, Faramir.  Cease to think otherwise. You are invaluable as Prince and Steward now . Are you feeling well enough?”

“Only weary all of sudden,” Faramir felt a headache and an odd chill spreading from his shoulder as well. He closed his eyes. He felt light-headed.

“We shall not speak about this– you look very pale.” Gandalf felt Faramir’s quickened heart rate on his arm.  

“No, I am fine,” sighed Faramir and opened his eyes. “Only a headache. Please pardon me.” Faramir took a step forward and involuntarily swayed a bit and sat down again immediately.

But Gandalf held onto Faramir’s arm, preventing him from falling and pressed him, “Are these frequent? You do not look well.” 

“No, I am better now,” Faramir insisted. “Sometimes…sometimes I have headaches. I’ll …I’ll …just take a moment.” He was sitting down already, but it did not help. He panted, peripheral darkness seemed to invade his line of sight; he rubbed his eyes to no avail. He put his hand to his forehead; the headache was overwhelming.

“I am calling for Aragorn to see how you are. We must not be careless,” and Gandalf left in a hurry.

Faramir closed his eyes wearily, breathing hard. Before he knew it, a menacing, smoldering darkness closed in and he was falling, unable to control the descent.

Dark shadows loomed.

A booming voice like his father was in the background, “You’re a wizard’s pupil!!”

It seemed the Enemy had won and made everything darkened and unclean. Black clouds lay upon a red sky. Blood was spilled everywhere. His dead comrades’ bodies lay in the courtyard next to where the White Tree was, some with heads some without, butchered with no remorse . The result of the rout of the Causeway Forts was clearly before him.  Tears and dirt stung his eyes.

It was so cold. He did not feel this cold since he charged forth with his company to retake Osgiliath and he felt the wretched Nazgul at his tail.

No! We had won through, but why was it so dark? He walked and tried to find the way back home and familiarity.

The darkness seemed to want to enclose, but suddenly there was a voice calling him, a light beaming towards him amidst the horror seen.

…

“Faramir! Faramir! Come back, come back to the light.  Faramir! Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad.”

“Faramir!”

He felt strong hands set him up to a sitting position. Athelas permeated the air. He awoke groggily and with great effort, opened his eyes, breathing hard, and looked around and saw the concerned eyes of Aragorn, Gandalf and the hobbits peer at him in worry and distress. A mug of warm tea was given to him to sip. He was lying on the bench in the courtyard.

“What happened? It is … cold and …. dreams were ….awful,” Faramir couldn’t stop shivering though he felt that there were blankets wrapped around him. He was trying to calm down, but his mind was racing.

“The Black Breath still has a hold on you.,” said Aragorn, touching Faramir’s forehead then shoulder which was cool to the touch. “How often are the nightmares?  Your condition was more serious than I thought, Faramir. You were not truthful to me.”

“I think… they …started a week ago, I …am …not certain,” Faramir closed his eyes. His pounding headache would not abate. His shoulder felt numb with cold. He could hardly sit up without aid.

“Then tell us what’s on your mind, be forthcoming!  Please also have some more water,” Aragorn helped hand a mug to the Steward and guided it to his lips.

Faramir sipped the water, “I will be fine–”

“Truly you are not fine. Lady Éowyn and the hobbits also told me about your nightmares. You need to rest,” said Aragorn. “Did you swoon before or this is the first time?”

“I did not swoon before. I was better- this is a sudden onset. I am not sure what caused this,” admitted Faramir. 

“I will give you something for the headaches and shoulder, and I need you to rest for at least the remainder of the day.”

 “Why am I afflicted with the Black Breath? I thought I had healed in the Houses of Healing?  Is Eowyn going to be alright?”

“The Black Breath can occur with feelings of guilt, worry, grief, and being overly burdened. My Lord Faramir, you must rest for at least a couple of days. This is an order,” said Aragorn firmly.  “Lady Eowyn was fine when she left for Rohan. ” 

“The best way to defeat the Black Breath is with relaxation, friends and positive thoughts,” added Gandalf. “You must heed our advice, Faramir.”

“We will make sure you are well taken care of, Lord Faramir,” chipped in Sam. “You are, after all, a man of great quality.”

“Let us know what we can do to help you, Faramir!” The younger hobbits added.

“You must take care and open up; the Black Breath is not going to leave on its own,” said Frodon softly. 

“It’s dark by yourself- you need to tell us about the dreams,” Merry added determinedly.

Faramir did not feel like speaking, he felt abnormally weary, and his headache persisted.  “I will go to my quarters then for rest.”  The pull of the nightmare was so strong he almost felt he couldn’t get out of it before. That has not happened before.

“I will come with you,” Aragorn said. “But I will also need to get some feverfew and a few other herbs from the apothecary for the headache. Gandalf, why don’t you help me escort the Steward? Merry and Sam, please go to the apothecary for the herbs, lavender, honey, chamomile, feverfew and willow bark.”

“Of course!” said Merry.

Gandalf and Aragorn walked arm and arm to bring the Steward back to his home and settled him into his bed, making sure the proper medicines were there with a kettle of water and extra mugs. Aragorn did not want to take a chance with anything. He used an Elvish chant to place Faramir in a healing sleep, one that would not be interrupted by dreams. He set a watch for him and the Fellowship obliged to keep more than one eye on for relapse.

TBC

Fire.

There was fire and it felt unnaturally hot, a glimpse of his father in grief in his last moments… he did cry for him, setting a vigil, but was it really real?

Then Boromir appeared in a boat, his face pale but still beautiful in death. The sound of the horn was still so close but he could do nothing to help him at the last moment.

“Do you know why I favor Boromir?”

“Do you know why you are second best?”

“No, father, I only try my best but why is that not enough? Where does my allegiance lie if not here?”

“Why would it be enough? You are a wizard’s pupil and not my son!”

“I wish for your places to be exchanged!”

Then it was dark and cold. A sense of foreboding so strong he could barely breathe overwhelmed him. He tried to center himself but could not. The cold strengthened and the dark became a tangible thing.

 “Faramir ! Wake up! It’s just a dream!”

Faramir sat up, thrashed about, gasping, breathing hard. Strong arms prevented him from falling. He felt both cold and hot.  Tears gathered in his eyes, terrified.  It was the middle of the night.

“Faramir, just a dream. Just a dream. Wake, my lad. Wake!” 

Faramir opened his eyes blearily and saw Aragorn and Imrahil beside him. A smell of athelas cleared him from the dark dreams, and a warm mug of water was placed in his lips. His shoulder was cold and aching, almost numb, but he felt a warm compress on it. Cold sweat had accumulated on his forehead. He closed his eyes again.

“Sorry–”

“There is no need to apologize. Please tell us what happened.”

“It was dark, felt like I’m falling …I am….lost,” Faramir hadn’t been so honest for a long time. “Why …can’t …I control this?” He opened his eyes searching Aragorn’s eyes for answers.

“You will. You have to let us know how you truly feel.”

“My dear lad, you need to be honest,” his uncle added. Imrahil held Faramir’s hand which was cold.  

Faramir thought about the last time he was honest– it has been so long since he truly did what he wanted. His whole life was for Gondor or his father or of duty. He sighed and closed his eyes and leaned back into his pillows. It was hard to even know what he truly desired at times. The war had taken so much, but he had told Eowyn and himself once the Ring was destroyed that there was hope and the darkness would not endure. Why was it so easy to tell others that and not believe it wholly himself?

“Faramir? We are with you. Please open up to us.”

“It will… take… time,” he said slowly as he opened his eyes to see the concerned faces of the King and Prince upon him, glad that it was not dark, that he was not swallowed up in the darkness that threatened.  “I dreamt of Boromir…in the funeral boat…I miss him,” he said quietly. “I dreamt– of Father dismissing me,” tears came to his eyes.

“Yes, we understand that. I miss Boromir too. I am glad you realize that we all need time, especially you. You will defeat the darkness. Share more with us if you can,” said Aragorn gently, putting his arm on Faramir’s shoulder.  

Faramir shivered, “I can’t right now– I…am …fearful.”

“Calm, my lad. You will be alright. We are here.” Aragorn prepared some more athelas for Faramir and double checked the compress upon his shoulder. “Take a deep breath. You are safe.”

“I’m staying in Minas Tirith for a while,” added Prince Imrahil. “My favorite nephew seems to need some support.  You are not alone.”

“Thank you. I did not know you were here in the city.”

“I heard from the King that you are not well and I want to be here for you,” said Prince Imrahil.

Faramir glanced at Aragorn. “You need as many people around you as possible to get through the Black Breath.”

“I brought your favorite books from the library,” said Prince Imrahil, trying to keep his nephew distracted from the fear and grief.

“Why thank you,” replied Faramir with a smile. He had not read for leisure for a while, being obsessed with Gondor’s recovery. It would be nice to read his favorite poetry and history. He was glad for his uncle’s kindness .

“Rest again and fear no darkness. You are safe amongst friends and family. We need you, Steward. Show us your strength as you always have. Now I'm going to take a rest and let me know if you need anything. Please be forthcoming. I will come first thing in the morning.  If you cannot sleep, there is a natural Elvish herb that can aid in anxiety and sleeplessness.” Aragorn left some instructions to Imrahil for the teas. 

“Thank you, my King. I appreciate your care.” Faramir said. 

Prince Imrahil stayed at his nephew’s bedside. Faramir was not speaking and looked towards the window deep in thought.  He still looked weary and pale, face pinched in weariness.

“What are you wondering about, dear nephew? You know you can speak to me. As the King said, you are safe amongst us– please do not walk alone in the shadows.”

“I am a bit afraid to fall back asleep– the last two times, the dreams seem to pull me down and I have trouble waking.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“A week or so…I thought I was alone–”

“You are never alone, my lad,” said Imrahil. “I am still here.” He looked at his only nephew with love. He had always thought that Finduilas’ second son was special and did not understand Denethor’s preference for Boromir. He had always encouraged and advised Faramir, and Faramir had shown tremendous fortitude and strength throughout the campaign against the Enemy. There was a reason why the Gondorian people held Faramir to high esteem.

“Don’t forget you are loved and respected among many.  Let us be there for you. Speak your mind and feel free to rest –the King said you still have the Black Breath- you need to focus on the positive. You are strong and brave. If you’re well enough tomorrow or day after, we can take a ride out of the city, concentrate on the beauty that remains in our lands instead of just rebuilding.”

“Thank you,” Faramir sighed and did feel encouraged by his kin’s thoughts. “That is a good recommendation.” The coldness abated a bit, but his heart was still racing.  He could not stop thinking of the darkness. His shoulder throbbed.  It was some time before his heart slowed to normal and he ceased shaking.

“What troubles you, my lad?” “Are you still in pain?”

“A headache,” said Faramir as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows. 

“The King prescribed this tea for headaches. Please have some.” Imrahil gave Faramir another mug with a strong feverfew herb tea mixed with chamomile flavor. Faramir sipped it slowly.

“Now you can rest, my lad.” Imrahil held onto Faramir’s hand to ease his shaking, giving one more blanket to wrap around Faramir’s body. He lay his hand on his forehead.  “Do you want to talk some more?”

Faramir shook his head. If he were alone, he would have some wine but he did not want anyone to know he had depended on it. He wanted that route to be temporary. The tea helped too and slowly, he started to feel a bit drowsy and closed his eyes reluctantly.

TBC

The next day, Faramir opened his eyes to sunshine peeping through the curtain outside. Had he slept the day away? He felt like he was getting over a long bout of flu. He sat up in bed gingerly, seeing that his shoulder was wrapped again and there were many blankets and herbal teas at his bedside.

Yesterday’s events came to Faramir in pieces. He remembered being pulled out of dark dreams, the kind which left him disoriented. He remembered a bit too much attention given by the hobbits, Aragorn and even his uncle. But weren’t they just dreams? 

He would not like to dwell. He stood up gingerly and pulled the curtains open with his good hand and felt the warming sunshine in his limbs. He was heartened by sunshine. He quickly dressed, ready to leave his room, but he was met with a hobbit at his door.

“Good morning, Steward! Where do you think you are going?” Pippin was there  outside, barring the door. “King’s orders are to rest! Have you forgotten? How are you feeling? Aragorn will come soon and tell me you cannot exit.”

Faramir laughed, “But I am better today. I feel fine. I have no headache. What time is it?”

“King’s orders- rest for a few days. It is almost two hours till noon. You were quite ill, Steward,” replied Pippin gravely. “Just last night! Do you not remember?”

Faramir sighed. “All right, may I be directed to some food- surely a good meal is something that I desire.”

“I will make the order known!” Pippin dashed towards the kitchen. 

Faramir did feel an ache in his shoulder, glad it was not as cold as the day before, and he did not feel as fatigued. He was glad the weather was fair for he did desire to have a change of scenery. He could also pick up the reading his uncle left for him.

Pippin returned with a tray of food, and Aragorn followed the hobbit into Faramir’s room.

“How are you feeling, Steward?”

“I am feeling better, thank you, King, for your help yesterday,” said Faramir with a bow to the King. His appetite returned, and he was glad Pippin brought him a hearty breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry for a long while.

Aragorn checked Faramir’s vitals and shoulder, then asked, “Do you want to talk about the nightmares from yesterday?”

“I will after this meal.” Faramir didn’t realize how long he did not eat. He did sleep most of yesterday away which meant he didn’t eat for at least twenty-four hours.

The Steward was still reticent after the meal so Aragorn started, “As we said yesterday, I am not sure if you remember- the Black Breath may give nightmares that are not true.   You need to be aware and try to change the outcome. You need to tell me when it happens. It is very dangerous to just leave them be. Can you tell me about what happens?”

“I dreamt about fire and death,” Faramir started. “I dreamt that we have…lost. Gondor has lost,” Faramir looked out in the window to avoid Aragorn’s piercing glance. He shuddered in recollection.

“But we have not. My Steward, we have succeeded. I understand this is a transition time but you have to stay present. Change the dream if you can. You have to let us know about them.”

“Did you have any headache today? We have something for you for that. Do not take anything else but the healing teas prescribed. Again, you are not expected at meetings or work for the next couple days.”

Faramir opened his mouth and wanted to object, but instead said, “Yes, my Lord. When can I report back ? There is much to do—”

“Not till you are mostly nightmare and headache free- and you have to be honest with me,” replied Aragorn sternly. “You should also take chamomile honey lavender tea before bed to aid your sleep. If you have a headache, I have prepared something for that as well.”

‘In the meantime, you are to relax and relax some more,” said Pippin. “You can keep Frodo and Sam busy, perhaps– they have no duties but to relax.”

“Are they recovering well? When are the hobbits departing ?”

 “Not until after mid-Summer at least,” replied Aragorn. “There is an event that I wish them to stay for. You included. Frodo and Sam are recovering- they have gone through a long ordeal, but hobbits are resilient.”

Faramir wondered at the event but did not probe. “Very well. I will be staying put until you permit me to return to my duties, my King.”

“Thank you- you shall get better with time. You have been working ceaselessly since the coronation - you deserve a rest.”

“It is the least I can do for you and for Gondor,” said Faramir quietly . Faramir didn’t think he was doing enough or without enough speed to make the city great again . 

Aragorn seemed to read his mind and clasped Faramir’s hand, “The city will recover soon enough. We need you to recover as well.  Do not take these ailments lightly!”

“Thank you, my King, I am trying to,” replied Faramir with a sigh. 

“Very well, you are to rest and keep your mind light with light thoughts if you can. I will come by later today to see how you fare. There are teas for better rest and for headaches if they occur again.”

Faramir was not alone when he rested that day- a string of visitors from hobbits to his uncle to even Gandalf came to see how he was, and he was not used to this much attention. They walked out in the garden when the sun shone brightly. They talked about the hobbits’ plans when they returned to the Shire, about Eowyn, about Imrahil’s plans when he returned to Dol Amroth. It was not till late afternoon when he became tired and told his friends he needed a respite.

Faramir did not want to nap, but his head felt heavy. He did not want to fall into dreams. The sun was setting and another day was passing. Faramir remembered he intended to write to Eowyn but he did not want to talk about himself. Reluctantly, he did start to write, but several drafts in, nothing came to mind, so he crumpled the papers and threw the drafts into the waste. He didn’t want Eowyn to worry about him and had nothing interesting to report. Instead, he picked up a book about Numenorian history and started to read.  He inadvertently dozed off on his armchair.

There was a smell of salt water and persistent waves were crashing down upon a foundation of stone. The structure had fallen and the powerful waves had crushed its once spectacular establishment. There was only a remnant of a citadel that stood. Another once proud head of a statue was no more, chipped away by the constant waves that would not relent. There was seaweed on the sand. A strong smell of sea water pervaded his senses.

The wave towered over an entire city, and Faramir could almost feel the water upon him. He started to run.

Suddenly, thunder and lightning was in the background as the dark billowing clouds threatened closer, coming to envelope the old stone structures and him. He heard someone weeping for his son, but could not make out who it was and why he heard that. Drops of rain fell from the overcast sky. 

Now hues of turquoise and blue swirled about. He felt cold dark sand upon his toes. The wave still threatened from a distance and started to envelope all, even him. The sky had darkened more. The beautiful blue was no more. The wind was picking up and gusty gales of sea water and spray doused him. Dark wraiths on wings suddenly appeared and tried to snatch Faramir but he kept running and escaped by a narrow margin. The wraiths and the waves were gaining on him. He slipped on the cool sand upon the puddles of salt water. He tried to stand up but suddenly, it went cold and dark. 

TBC