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

“Do you think that Faramir even wanted to be with us today?” asked Sam.

“He did look tired still even though he seemed to be in good spirits,” Merry said.

“He ate normally today– I told the chef to get the Steward’s favorites for both breakfast and second breakfast,” said Pippin. “I make a great Knight of Gondor- i serve everyone to the best of my ability,” Pippin stood up straight and proud.

“Indeed you’re a shining Knight of Gondor,” joked Merry. “If we get through this, you will be promoted.”

I think he needed to rest despite everything- perhaps we could’ve let him speak on what he thinks,” said Frodo. “He was still too quiet.”

“It’s almost supper time– we should get him to come to dine with us and this time let him do the talking,” said Sam. “Try not to speak, Master Pippin.”

“You cannot force a person to talk when they do not want to. We all know what’s bothering the Steward,” said Frodo. “He is grieving, but he does not admit it.”

“How do you know, Frodo?”

“Because, I was the same way when my parents died,” said Frodo with tears in his eyes. “I was closed off and did not want to talk about anything to anyone. I fortunately did not have bad dreams because Bilbo very quickly came to Brandy Hall to collect me, and I felt fortunate to have such a caring uncle.  Merry and Esme and Sara helped too, but Bilbo made me feel very special.”

“Poor Faramir,” said Merry. “We need him to see there are many who care about him, to prevent him from falling into the Black Breath.”

“Do you have a plan, Merry?”

“Let’s go collect him for a hobbit meal at the dining hall.”

When the hobbits reached Faramir’s room, they were shocked to see Aragorn and Imrahil already there trying to rouse Faramir out of another dark nightmare. Faramir did not seem responsive for a long while even with the usual herbs. He was pale and sweat accumulated in his brow. He seemed to be fighting in his dream, arms flailing about, in an internal struggle of wills.  He murmured incomprehensible words and it seemed like he wanted help. Aragorn looked as tired and gray as when he was at the Houses of Healing the first time battling in the shadowy vale.

“Faramir! Awake!  Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad. Faramir!”

The hobbits were scared with tears in their eyes. 

“What can we do?” asked Frodo anxiously.

“Get more warm water and athelas,“ replied Aragorn.

“How did this happen?” Sam asked worriedly.

“We left him in fine spirits before. He was fine the whole day!” Merry said frustratedly.

Aragorn crushed as many athelas as they found, gave it to Faramir to smell to revive him. The shoulder was wrapped in warm cloths. Faramir’s skin was clammy and his pulse elevated.  Aragorn kept saying elvish incantations, put his hand on the Steward’s forehead and concentrated as much as he could to bring his friend back.

“Faramir! Come back to the light!”

Finally after what seemed like forever, Faramir blinked open his eyes and gasped, “What happened? “ A smell of athelas permeated the air instead of the salt water in the dream. He blinked tears away and saw Aragorn by his side.

The hobbits and Imrahil cheered, so glad that the Steward was awake again.

“Another dark dream is what happened,” said Aragorn, gently bringing Faramir to a sitting position and a mug of tea to Faramir's lips.  “It took a long while before you awoke. The Black Breath is serious, and we have to battle it.”

Faramir sighed–he was so weary. He felt like he was constantly fighting in a labyrinthe of darkness, and he feared falling asleep. “It was the wave this time. I feel it upon me,” he closed his eyes and did not speak more and shivered in recollection. Now he felt dizzy and nauseous at the effort of speaking. 

“You are safe now. Do not fear.  It was just a dream,” Aragorn was worried- this last time was difficult to revive Faramir from the Black Breath infested dream. He was fatigued from this effort. Aragorn applied more fresh athelas, crushing them in warm water to dispel the smell into the air. Even though Faramir was cold, he was also feeling a bit too warm. The shoulder wound had healed but it was abnormally cold. Physically there was nothing wrong but mentally? Aragorn thought that either he was failing in his effectiveness or there was something Faramir wasn’t telling them that could help aid in recovery.  The Black Breath was not going to leave on its own.

“How are you feeling, my Steward?”

Feelings of blame and guilt surfaced– blame for himself, guilt of surviving and also feeling insufficient. He shook his head, “Not too well–”

“Relax, you need to fight the inner demons. Don't blame yourself on things you cannot change. Be glad you survived.”

“We know there’s change and much to grieve for, but nothing is your fault and you’ve already done so much, my lad,” added Imrahil, holding onto his nephews’ cold hand, looking at Faramir anxiously. 

“Here, drink the honey lavender which will help with your anxious thoughts.. Calm, take a deep breath,” Aragorn said.  

“I…am… not well.” Indeed, he felt sick, like he really swallowed the water from the dream. He rejected the tea and looked out at the window which showed that it was already dark. “What time is it now?” He then closed his eyes for a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. He leaned over and became sick and fortunately Aragorn had a chamber pot ready. He leaned back into the pillows, hoping the sickness would retreat.  

After a while, Farami caught his breath and closed his eyes. A mug of peppermint water was given to him to alleviate the upset stomach. “Drink up - do you feel less sick ? Take your time,” said Aragorn and he was glad that Faramir took some tea.

Faramir did not reply and felt out of sorts. The nausea was passing and he opened his eyes to feel a headache starting to impede upon him. He rubbed his temple with his good hand and closed his eyes again.

Aragorn stayed in the room also and dismissed the hobbits to go grab supper. He felt guilty he didn’t catch this was more serious a week or so ago before the funeral.  He had to help Faramir recover as soon as possible. The Black Breath only seemed to infect Faramir more. He could not afford to lose him to another dream.

“My lad- are you in pain,” asked Imrahil tenderly. 

“Just another headache–,” said Faramir with an effort. “And I feel cold.” He still felt the sea water, smelled the salty water- he shuddered in memory.

“I will get some feverfew with chamomile and lavender tea for you,” said Aragorn as he guided the mug to Faramir’s lips. Seeing him shiver, Aragorn retrieved an extra blanket and reapplied warming cloths.  He felt that Faramir’s shoulder was still cold and he was not moving it. 

Faramir drank the tea then closed his eyes, but sleep did not come. The past dream was too vivid. He shook in recollection. Cold sweat gathered on his forehead.

“Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind, Faramir? Especially about the dreams?  I encourage you to tell me so that we can help.” Aragorn said.

“No one can change the past,” replied Faramir thickly.

“Yes that is true but you need to allow yourself to know that these negative feelings are temporary. You are needed and loved and you need to understand that,” said Imrahil fervently.

“Remember when Mother died? Everyone said that she was getting better, but she never did get better and I still feel that pain of deception. And now …my brother and father–it …it… is a lot to bear,” After all the weeks of saying things were fine, Faramir broke down and started to weep.

“Yes, I know– it is hard,” Imrahil held onto Faramir, rubbing his back.  “They would be proud of you. Go forth in their memory.”

“Proud? Denethor? I cannot believe that!”

“He would remember and cherish you before the end, Faramir. He loved you. He did not leave your side when you were wounded. He did care- can you believe that?”

Faramir did not know if he could believe what his uncle was telling him. Again, who knew what his father was thinking as he burned himself and him? His father was selfish in taking his own life and wanted to take his life too. Why did his father take his own life?  Should he have joined him? But then, he wasn’t in his own mind- wasn’t the Enemy already controlling him? How would he know what his father thought at the end ? No one knew. The headache worsened.

“Peace, you cannot be over-exerted. Try to relax now.” Faramir’s pulse was elevated from the weeping and Aragorn gave a tea concoction to alleviate pain and calm down his nerves. He added some honey so the taste would be better.  

Then, Aragorn rubbed Faramir’s temples to aid in the headache. “Calm now, breathe slowly. Relax and close your eyes.  Breathe slowly and deeply.” Aragorn extended his arms and placed his hands on his friend’s face; thumbs resting lightly on the closed eyelids, fingers splayed from forehead to temples rubbing gentle circles across the furrowed brow.  “Breathe deeply and slowly.”

Faramir felt a bit better after Aragorn’s ministrations; the headache wasn’t overwhelming him and he could finally close his eyes without fear, breathing in slower breaths. “I am weary now - you can get supper while I rest.” 

“No, we are not leaving you as of yet,” said Aragorn firmly.  “Calm and do not fear. “

“We will be here when you awake,” Imrahil said.  He held onto Faramir’s hand gently.

“All right.” He did not have the strength to argue.  The intense nightmare, recovery and headache had sapped any strength remaining. Faramir settled back into the covers, closing his eyes, praying for a dreamless sleep.

TBC

“If ever beyond hope you return to the lands of the living and we retell our tales, sitting by a wall in the sun, laughing at old grief, you shall tell me then.” Faramir to Frodo,‘ The Two Towers '

“Strider, we have returned with food. Do you think Faramir will wake up to eat?” asked Merry. He glanced at the sleeping Steward then looked at the grave faces of Imrahil and Aragorn who seemed deep in thought as they sat in vigil overlooking the seemingly peaceful sleeping Steward.

“I am not sure- so far, he looks like he is finally peacefully sleeping and I hope that he will rest without interruption.” Faramir had slept for two hours and there was no sign of dark dreams, but Aragorn kept the watch. The smell of athelas permeated the room calming everyone’s nerves.

“Do you need any food, my King,” asked Imrahil. 

“Yes, I'll eat what the hobbits have brought, thank you.”

“We will retire to our rooms, Strider,” said Sam. “Mr. Frodo needs rest as well.” Frodo looked tired as well.  “We will return tomorrow…let us know of anything that we can do.”

The younger hobbits wanted to stay so they stayed with Aragorn and Imrahil for a little longer but at two hours to midnight, they also said good night. 

“Well, did you know when this started? The dark dreams and all?” asked Imrahil to Aragorn as they sat and remained at Faramir’s bedside together. They had been sitting in silence for a while and just took in the food that the hobbits brough for them but did allocate some to Faramir if he awoke. He was in deep sleep, sometimes talking inaudibly in his sleep, but nothing as alarming as how they found him in the afternoon.

“I knew he had trouble sleeping before the funeral, and I told him to take a day or two– but he only took a day,” replied Aragorn. “And he returned to plan for the funeral. In fact, he gave me early plans for the funeral.”

“He is conventional in wanting to complete things quickly,” replied Imrahil. “He is efficient in what he does when he wants to complete something. He works too hard. He did have a bout of the Black Breath before, how is it different this time?”

Aragorn was amazed at how astute Imrahil was and he did not hold back in giving his opinion, “Faramir is grieving. Everyone does so differently but for him, he has been under the shadow for so long. I am not certain how soon he can recover and this is his choice in the matter. We can only be there for him when he wants to open up, and I encourage that he will before…before it’s too late.”

“He is strong and young- he will get through this,” replied Imrahil fervently. “I know my nephew.”

Then, they were interrupted by a stirring Steward who opened his eyes and seemed disoriented. 

“How do you fare?” asked Imrahil, he touched Faramir’s hand which was less cold than before.

“A little better, I believe. – why do you look so …worried?” replied Faramir as he sat up slowly with some aid from Imrahil and Aragorn. He still felt weary but a little less ill than before.

“You had a rough bout of Black Breath only recently. Let me see how you are,” replied Aragorn as he inspected the Steward’s vitals and shoulder. All seemed normal but the Steward still looked pale, and was starting to feel warm.

“Yes, I am fine…just a bit sore, I believe?” said Faramir. His shoulder ached a bit but not as cold as before but a heaviness did remain. He sighed. “What is the time?”

It is an hour till midnight.”

“You can depart if you want to- i will just take a bite of food—”

“Which is good, you have an appetite,” said Aragorn. “The hobbits left you with some food. But no, we are not leaving.”

Faramir ate in silence. He was slightly confused why Aragorn and Imrahil were by his bedside. Was he really that ill he needed this? 

“Sorry, my King and uncle- it is late- is it better to be getting back to your quarters. I am fine,” Faramir insisted. “Unless you have other matters to discuss?”

“We need to discuss your nightmares and no, you are not fine,” said Aragorn sternly. “I did not stay several hours just for you to think that everything is fine. The Black Breath has a strong hold on you and we need to be clear about the dangers, and I need to be clear to know that you understand. Do you understand what are the steps to take when the dark nightmares come?”

Aragorn hadn’t been that clear about the severity of the situation and it led to some tension in the room.

Faramir replied earnestly, “I do understand, and I will work harder to recognize these dreams. Thank you for your attention and your advice- I will heed your advice and let you know first thing about any strange occurrences.”

“That’s the thing, my nephew, it is hard to discern at times and the past day, the King has taken you out not once, not twice, but three times from a dream so strong, it could’ve taken you!” declared Imrahil. “Do not underestimate the severity of the situation!”

“Three times?“

“You do not remember?”

“Yes, it was three times, my Steward. You swooned once yesterday, then it was a dark dream last night and only this afternoon. Your uncle is right– you cannot underestimate the power of the Black Breath. You only slept a couple hours now and I do not know if you awoke because of a dream.”

“No, I do not remember any dark dreams this time,” Faramir breathed deeply. Maybe he did not recognize the severity of the dreams of Black Breath.  “What can I do?”

“Please discuss with us honestly about anything that may trigger these dreams,” said Aragorn gently. “We can find the trigger and thus deal with the underlying cause.”

“You have gone through a lot, nephew. Don’t hold back in telling us your thoughts.”

“I will share with you but right now, I have nothing to share. Since it's the middle of the night, you both need rest. I will rest again after this meal,” insisted Faramir. He was not used to this attention especially since he felt fine at the moment. “I will give you messages first thing if something is amiss.”

“You need the most quality rest, and I have to make sure that you are receiving that. I am returning before dawn” said Aragorn. He actually did not want to leave the Steward’s side at all. He did not think Faramir was entirely forthcoming and was unnecessarily proper in still holding back information. He knew he was not accustomed to the attention, but Faramir still did not understand he needed friends by his side. He needed Faramir to trust him.

“Thank you, my King,” Faramir bowed, stood up slowly and guided both his uncle and Aragorn to the door. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, Uncle, for the ride we said we were planning.”

“Why yes, I wanted to do that yesterday but something arose.”

“We will ride out tomorrow then.”

“If you’re well enough- i will determine that tomorrow, Steward,” Aragorn said. “Most likely, resting well is most important. Remember if you have another headache, you have tea to combat that. Warm compress is for your shoulder. Teas for anxiety as well. Rest, and remember we are here for you. Don’t overthink.”

“Yes, my King, I remember. Thank you. Good night.”

Faramir closed the door and some tears came into his eyes. He did wake from a dream before but he did not want to mention it. He was dreaming of his mother but it was too personal to talk about. It was just a simple moment when his mom was holding him when he was a child. He only had memories of a woman who played with and snuggled him. He was a young child after all and who could remember more than that. That was an untainted dream so therefore unrelated to those Black Breath dreams that he was having.

 Speaking to Aragorn and Imrahil made him a bit anxious. When will the Black Breath dreams come again? He did not want to fall victim again. Faramir paced his room. He was weary but did not want to sleep.

He left his room and went out to the courtyard. It was a clear night and it was not too warm or cold for a May night. He saw stars blink above in the sky and he was reminded of the night that Boromir left. 

“Be safe, Boromir. I’ll miss you,” he said softly  “Come back to us as soon as possible,” he said and held onto Boromir’s hand.

“You know I won’t linger if I must not,” replied Boromir, taking Faramir’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

It was still painful to remember his brother telling him that he would return but he did not. He felt a lump in his throat. It was the Fourth Age and there was so much to look forward to, but how can he memorialize the past properly? There was a void that could not be replaced.

Faramir sighed. He tried to push the memory away for what was the use to dwell. Boromir would not come back alive despite him wishing for that fervently. What was the purpose of wishing ?

Suddenly he felt the presence of someone small looking up to him.

“Are you sleepless?” It was Frodo.

“Why it was because I had a long nap,” replied Faramir with a smile looking down at the Ring-bearer. “Why are you not asleep?”

“I like to see the stars in Gondor– they look a bit different than in the Shire.”

“Are they really? How so?”

“I do not think they sparkle as bright or there are not as many for some reason.”

“Maybe it’s just another perspective.”

“Yes, perhaps.”

The hobbit and man fell into silence observing the sky. It was a perfect night to be outside. There was no wind, and it was peacefully quiet.

“I lost my parents when I was young,” started Frodo softly. “It was a sudden boating accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Faramir sympathetically. He was touched that Frodo would share his story with him. “We seem to be no strangers to loss.” Faramir sighed.

“It was a hard time but there were relatives that cared for me in which I am grateful. One of them was Bilbo. Did you hear about my uncle?”

“Why I have not. Gandalf only mentioned the fact he aided the Quest of Erebor. He had a very meaningful part in it like how you are the hero of this Quest.”

“Yes, he took me in like his own son to live in the Bag End, another part of the Shire; he also made me his heir. I needed the change in scenery since there were not good ones in Brandy Hall when my parents passed,” said Frodo.

“It does take time to process everything, and I'm glad Bilbo could help you with that.” Faramir said.

“You have a lot of support too, my Steward. Your uncle is a nice man, similar to Bilbo. You’re lucky to have him. And you're strong and perceptive,” insisted Frodo.

“Now am I?” Faramir chuckled at Frodo’s assessment of him.

“Ever since Sam and I have met you, you’ve shown nothing but kindness, respect and trust to us.” Frodo looked at Faramir. “Lord Elrond had said we would meet good friends along the road, and you are one of them. And now after the war, you are selflessly giving back to your country. I know it’s your perceived duty, but not everyone can look past the personal griefs to do so.”

Faramir did not know what to say. He didn’t know if he should feel flattered or grateful or both. “Indeed you’re also a prince among halfings, with wisdom beyond even the highest counselor in Gondor. Thank you for your kind thoughts. I would say that it is our duty to rebuild Gondor to its former glory.”

“Yes but you also have to think about yourself, Faramir.”

“Yes, I believe that is just as important,” replied Faramir. “I have been trying to.” He paused. “It’s been difficult,” he admitted.

“You know my kin and I are at your service,” said Frodo.  “You have to open up about how you feel.”

“And how about you? The one who has gone to the edge of the world and back?” Faramir wanted to open up but he was fearful of what reality may entail.

“I hope that there will be peace back when I find Bilbo and in the Shire,” said Frodo but he looked away when he said that. “You are not the only one with dreams and nightmares.”

“Yes, I know you had the hardest time of all of us, little one,” said Faramir with pity. He put his arm on the hobbit’s shoulder. “We will be forever indebted to you for helping us defeat the Enemy beyond all hope.”

“I do not believe I succeeded,” said Frodo. “I could not give up the RIng at the end, and I feel guilty about it. The creature Gollum had to take it from me by force for it to fall into Mount Doom. You warned me of him but if he were not there, I would not have succeeded.I am not a hero,” Frodo finished with a sigh and tears in his eyes.

Faramir replied, “Do not blame yourself– you were the strongest person to carry such an evil device of the Enemy. Others would have succumbed already. Do not ever feel guilty about your success. No one could’ve been as strong as you.”

“WIth time, perhaps, I can recover from …from the last leg of the journey,” said Frodo sadly. “I hope you will enjoy Gondor restored.”

“Thank you. I do hope I enjoy Gondor restored too. Frodo, cease to think so much, little one. You will enjoy the Shire as well when you return. You hobbits amaze me at every turn. We are indebted and grateful to you.”

There was some silence as both fell into their own thoughts. 

“I hope that you will fall asleep soon, Frodo. If not, the King has this tea that works and you can have some of mine.”

“Thank you- he already gave some of that to me,” replied Frodo with a smile. “If it had worked, I wouldn't be here looking at the stars. Though I do like them a lot.”

“They do have a calming effect,” Faramir smiled back. Frodo was good company and made him feel less anxious. 

“I hope you sleep well, Frodo, son of Drogo.”

“Yes, you too– I hope you feel better,” replied Frodo. Then the hobbit and Steward said farewell and retired back to their rooms. 

Faramir did not feel tired but he knew he had to get back into a pattern of normal sleep. It was now already several hours after midnight. He took some of the tea that Aragorn prescribed for sleeplessness, crushed some athelas himself and went to bed, closing his eyes, hoping that no dreams would invade him.

TBC

Eowyn was confused and worried. She had arrived in Rohan for more than a week already but did not hear from Faramir and he promised he would write.. She wondered why he did not write yet. Therefore, despite being very occupied with state affairs herself, she sat down to write to her beloved.  

Dear Faramir,

My love, it has been more than a week since I've seen you and I am thinking about you. Are you faring better? Are you resting at night? Are the nightmares subsiding? I am concerned for you. Please let me know how you are faring, truthfully.

We rode fast back to Rohan but the ride was smooth. It is better now since the War is over. I’ve been very occupied with planning the King’s funeral and setting matters right for Rohan since my brother and I have been gone so long and now, we have an incoming King that requires transition time.

We are planning for you to say a few words when you are here in Rohan about your betrothal plans. I am very glad that we are soon to be together. I wish you well always, my Lord.

Please write back soon and my love to you always.

Love,

Eowyn

Eowyn gave to the fastest messenger to bring the letter to Gondor. She wanted Red Arrow speed. Red arrow speed still took a couple days. She was worried before leaving Gondor before and she was still worried even now. She could not explain it.  Hopefully she will get a reply soon. She looked out towards the plains of Rohan and could only believe that she left her heart in Gondor. She hoped to see Faramir as soon as possible again. She felt his absence keenly, and she felt lonely.

Aragorn could not sleep that night. He had felt guilty he was not there from the beginning though he saw the signs that Faramir was not as well as everyone perceived. It was his responsibility to make sure the younger man opened up and recovered as soon as he could. Aragorn left his quarters and went back to Faramir’s room.

It seemed like the Steward was sleeping normally, but Aragorn felt Faramir’s forehead. It was unnaturally warm.. Faramir was restless, tossing in bed, his cheeks were flushed and his breathing a bit labored. 

Faramir woke suddenly, breathing hard in fear.

“Calm, you are not alone. You’re safe.  Is it another dream?” Aragorn helped Faramir to sitting position.

“I…don’t …know. Just …fire,” Faramir shivered in recollection. He felt too warm but sometimes too cool. Beads of sweat accumulated on his forehead.  A different kind of headache had taken hold. He took off the covers but then he felt cold again.

“It is all right. Here, I will prepare some willow bark tea–a fever has developed for some unknown reason. Please let me know about any dark dreams,” said Aragorn as he used the water to brew some willow bark with honey.

Once it cooled, he gave a mug to Faramir who sipped it without question. 

“I”m sorry to impede upon your sleep, my King,” said Faramir but he was somewhat glad he had company in the night.

“No apologies are necessary. I will also bring more blankets and cooling cloth.  I will return.”

When Aragorn returned, he also gave a stronger sleeping draught so that Faramir could rest without interruption. 

“Sleep and fear no darkness,” he instructs, smoothing the athelas laced fabric over Faramir's brow.

Fortunately, Faramir settled back to sleep and did not stir until late morning.

…

Aragorn stayed in Faramir’s room till sunrise but was met with some unexpected company. Pippin had arrived.

“What is a hobbit doing up at sunrise?” asked Aragorn.

“Isn’t it part of my duty to serve the Steward and the King?” Pippin asked back.

“Why yes, you are quite astute to know I need your services. Please brew some more water; I need to prepare some more healing teas. Thank you Pippin.”

Pippin wordlessly went to fetch the supplies. When he returned, he asked Aragorn, “What happened? Is Faramir worse than before?”

“Just a bit of a fever which I do not know the cause of.” Aragorn put a cooling cloth on Faramir’s forehead as precaution. “Most likely lack of sleep has affected his immunity.” The Steward was still warm. However, his shoulder wound was not cold so he hoped that the Black Breath had lessened its hold.

“You look worried, Strider,”

“Yes, quite worried. It took a while to draw him back from the wound in the Houses of Healing. This last time also took too long . We need to solve the problem soon. It will take enormous effort from Faramir and I do not know if we are getting across to him the importance of opening up.  He spoke in his sleep last night. Snatches of Boromir, directing his Rangers, his father. And only time can really solve many problems and the right amount of support.”

“We will help,” said Pippin determinedly. “Do you think we need to let him know about Boromir’s sacrifice? How important of a role his brother was in our Fellowship of the Ring? I am not sure if we spoke of it to him.  Would that help?”

“That is a fair point. Part of healing is to know the last steps and actions of Boromir. It was one of the hardest deaths to handle,” Aragorn sighed. “I was too late myself to rescue Boromir. I wished I was with him, helping him with slaying the orcs.  Maybe you getting captured would have also been avoided.”

Pippin laid his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder since he was sitting. “Did we say not to blame ourselves?”

“When did Peregrin Took become so wise?”

“Since I became a Knight of Gondor,” said Pippin smugly. Being sworn in to service makes me a super hobbit of sorts. And I am also a Troll-slayer, if I must remind you.”

Aragorn grinned. He didn't sleep much that night but he was glad for Pippin’s company.  “You do not have to remind me of your deeds. I believe Ioreth has already said you’re the Prince of Halflings. How are you feeling, Prince? You are well recovered from your wounds, I hope?”

“No, that would be Frodo- I prefer to be the Knight,” said Pippin with a smile.  “And yes, I am well healed from the troll crushing down on me, thank you to you master Healer and King. Merry can be the joker of Gondor since he already has serious responsibilities in Rohan.”

“We will see how he fits into Gondor,” said Aragorn with a chuckle.  Then Aragorn yawned.

“Do you need to take a rest- i can make sure Faramir is all right from now,” said Pippin seriously. “Merry said he’ll stop by after first breakfast and bring me some too.”

“Do you know which tea is for what? There is one for headache, one for sleeplessness. And willow bark for fever if it returns.  I think he will wake in a couple of hours and I did give him a stronger sleeping draught when he was up last about three hours ago. He needs no more unless he is unwell and I hope he is fine when he wakes.”

“Yes, my King,” said Pippin with a bow. “I will remember and become Healer Took while you’re gone.”

Aragorn could not help but be amused though it was a dark situation. He smiled at the hobbit, “All right, I'll trust you with my patient. I will be back after sending some messages to the Council that meetings are postponed till tomorrow and send some messages to any that the Steward had planned. Thank you Pippin.”

Aragorn was not gone for long but returned three hours before noon. Pippin was still at watch and Merry had joined him. The Steward was still sleeping.

“How is our patient, Healer Took?” 

“I don't think there’s any change. I think the latest sleeping draught really worked.”

Faramir did seem to be sleeping peacefully but a slight fever remained and despite the warming compress on his shoulder, it still felt cold. Aragorn was puzzled . He was running out of athelas and had to send someone to ride out to retrieve some. Faramir talked in his sleep even though he seemed to be asleep . Aragorn wondered at that.  The Black Breath had to be defeated but only the person having it can overcome it.

…

Faramir was running in the woodlands in Ithilien. They had to defend against the Haradrim and Southrons and they were relying on stealth and speed. However, the woods did not seem familiar to him. He had lost complete direction of where he was.

Suddenly, he did not see where his soldiers went, but the footsteps of the Enemy drew nearer.

“Mablung!” 

“Anborn!”

How could he direct the attack if he had lost his men? What kind of captain loses his men? Where were his most trusted Rangers? They had to get into position and they were nowhere to be found.

A sense of dread enveloped him. Then suddenly, the field opened up and he only saw lifeless bodies on the floor of his fellow soldiers who went to defend Osgiliath in the last ride.

Was this a trick of the Enemy? But he did not even ride out to the last stance yet. He was successful in Ithilien.

Faramir ran the other direction but there was an impenetrable darkness which swallowed up the forest.

“No!”

Faramir awoke in tears but saw the concerned eyes of Aragorn and Pippin peering down at him and he was placed in a sitting position. Athelas permeated the air. They gave him a mug of sweet and bitter tea.

“Just a dream- “ started Aragorn.

“I…I am all right –just a dream.” Faramir was glad to wake up. He felt weary still but better despite the vivid dream. 

“First, how do you feel? You had a fever just several hours ago but you have since cooled down.” Aragorn started checking Faramir’s vitals and shoulder. The shoulder was still cool to the touch. Faramir looked tired but his eyes were clearer but not entirely clear from fever.

“I am feeling better, thank you.” Faramir wondered at the dream. Was it fever induced or from the Black Breath? He still felt very weary, sore from the constant battle with the conscious and now he did feel his body aching.  He involuntarily shivered.  

Aragorn placed his hand on Faramir’s forehead, assessing that there was still a low grade fever remaining. “I am trying to see if your dream is the result of fever or Black Breath- what do you believe? And do you have a headache?”

“No I don't believe that there was a dark element to it and …no I  am not sure,” Faramir shivered. “It is an outcome that did not happen.”

“Please do not be careless in assessment. You need to try to change the outcome in the dream to battle the Black Breath. I advise you to rest today and let me know if the dreams get strange again,” Aragorn said. “You are to use a special sleeping draught before your nap for more restful sleep and more willow bark after your meal. For the dreams, you need to tell us about them.”

Faramir wondered what else he could do. “All right. I’ll try to be aware. I am fine to go to the dining hall myself,” he stood up gingerly.  

“I know your favorites- so I will gladly bring you a tray, Steward! You should stay put,” said PIppin as he ran out the door.

 Faramir sat down again and was thinking of his meetings he was missing, especially the one he had scheduled with Belegion and other soldiers. “My King, did you postpone my personal meetings too for today?” Faramir asked Aragorn.

“Yes, I did that early this morning. I told your assistant to clear your schedule for today and tomorrow, most likely for the following day too. It is almost noon now.” The King opened the curtains. It was a downcast day but not raining. There were many clouds, but the temperature was still above normal for May.

“I thank you for your care,” Faramir looked down. “I will not recover by tomorrow?” He wondered at the remaining dreams and wondered if he could fall asleep dreamless again. He was determined to not fall into darkness. He had more to do for Gondor, felt indebted to the King for him to keep calling him back. He closed his eyes to try to feel calm and to organize his thoughts. He opened them again and saw Aragorn looking straight into his eyes.

“There is nothing to thank me for,” Aragorn said as he felt Faramir’s forehead for fever. “I do not anticipate you coming back to work tomorrow yet. You are still ill, and we do not want to be careless especially when the Black Breath and now fever are involved. We will take it day by day. I am sorry I did not catch this earlier. Do not feel blame for your father’s demise nor think you’re not doing enough. You have been instrumental to Gondor’s recovery and I anticipate more good projects from you. Recover well and don’t hesitate to let me know how I can help, truly.”

Faramir bowed his head, “Thank you my King, I appreciate the kindness and confidence.  I”ll also be more mindful of the Black Breath.” He had not heard anyone give him this level or respect before. No one in the Council, nor Denethor had appreciated what he did for Gondor and he felt touched to have some recognition.

Suddenly, Merry and Pippin appeared in Faramir’s room in good spirits. 

Pippin said, “I found the best meal for you,” and indeed the tray smelled really good.

“And look what came in the mail,” said Merry with a grin. “A letter from Éowyn!”

Faramir smiled, “A letter from Éowyn?” He was so glad for this. He felt sorry he didn’t write to Éowyn yet but he promised himself he would do so today.

He felt in better spirits after a good meal and more willow bark. He felt heartened and less alone by being with the hobbits and the King.

TBC

The hobbits and Aragorn left and Faramir was finally by himself. He needed to read Eowyn’s letter in privacy and plan for a reply back to her. He knew it was long overdue that he wrote to her. He was also feeling weary.

He read the letter several times and was so grateful. But how should he write so he would not worry her but not deceive her either? He tried to evade the topic of his dreams and health.

Dear Éowyn,

My beloved, I am so glad that you are safely back in Rohan. I am sorry I did not write earlier. 

The ceremony went well without any issues and I managed to plan everything accordingly. I am indebted to the King and the Council for allowing this to happen. I insisted that we needed to honor my father, brother, the soldiers that have fallen and to have the day be to honor the fallen.

I am feeling better. I did go to the King for my sleeplessness and dreams and most has been resolved- you need not worry about me. The King is quite the healer. I am in good hands- please do not fear for me.

Faramir paused writing. Should he mention the Black Breath to warn Eowyn? Eowyn had dark dreams, and she should be aware too.

How do you fare? Do you have dreams? Please be aware of those that are too dark for it could be the Black Breath. Have some athelas or kingsfoil nearby because they may help to help you recover. I hope that your health is well. 

You are sorely missed and I cannot wait to stroke your golden hair and feel your hands upon mine. I desire your embrace and hope we can soon be together underneath the stars and sun together for the new Age. I desire the day that we meet again in Rohan to approach more quickly. My beautiful dear brave lady, please be well and by my side soon. I do not believe the darkness will endure.

Yours always,

Faramir

He read his letter again- did he sound positive enough? Was it all right he did not include the whole truth? There was no use of worrying Eowyn after all.  He quickly sealed the letter and gave it to a servant to be sent out as soon as possible. He wondered what errand riders would be going forth from Rohan. Perhaps he had to send a special rider as well.

He remembered he had been hopeful in the Houses of Healing because meeting Eowyn seemed like light amidst the darkness. He knew he loved Eowyn when he first laid eyes on her. He could not explain it. He wanted to mend her hurts, to make sure she was loved. She was so brave and lovely at the same time. How could there be anyone like her? 

Before that, he was pulled out of the dark vale by the King that he had dreamed about so at least two things were going right amidst a world turned upside down by the war.  If the Vala had intended he join his family, there would’ve been a sign already but there wasn’t- he only kept meeting good men, hobbits, and other members of the Fellowship. It was not so easy to give up in life.

Faramir felt restless, so decided to take a walk in the gardens. It was overcast, but it was not raining. He felt weary from the fever, but he did not want to stay put and it was only two hours past noon. He would rest later.

It was unnaturally oppressive for May, like an oncoming storm was about to burst. Faramir hoped it would not rain since he needed the fresh air. After walking for half an hour, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Faramir!”

He turned around and saw his uncle Imrahil race down the path.

“How are you feeling, my lad? Why are you not in your quarters resting?”

“I am feeling fine and need to take a walk.  I will return soon,” Faramir smiled. “Thank you again for the kindness.”

“The King said you had a bout of fever this morning. Are you sure you are well enough?”

“I believe so–I am truly feeling alright,” Faramir was not being deceptive- he really needed to take a walk.

“Well all right, we can walk together and then we will go back. I do not think a ride out would be wise today since those rain clouds look like they’re going to burst.” Indeed, the rain clouds turned darker from the East, threatening to reach them soon with the wind.

Dark rain clouds looked like the ones in the dream with the salt water–water from the river that carried Boromir to him in a boat…like a dream. Dark clouds also occupied the skies in all those battles. Faramir shivered in recollection, heart pounding, and eyes closed trying to not remember that detail of the dream or the fact his brother was dead. 

“What happened?” Imrahil glanced at Faramir with utmost concern, holding onto his arm. Imrahil saw that Faramir seemed distressed, his face frowning, eyes closed, and his heartbeat had accelerated.

“No, nothing. Let us return now then. I think the rain is about to come down.” He did not want to repeat the details of the image. He opened his eyes. His mouth felt dry, but he felt water upon his brow. He lifted up his head but saw that it did not rain.

The rain did not come down before they reached the Citadel, but he felt overly anxious. He did not understand why the clouds bothered him and made him have such a reaction and elicited such an image. He sat down heavily on his armchair and closed his eyes, trying to block out the clouds. They were just clouds!

“You are feverish again,” Imrahil felt his nephew’s forehead when they returned to Faramir’s room. “The King did prescribe willow bark for you- you should have some.” 

“Yes, I will,” Faramir replied wearily and took the mug that his uncle had prepared. He felt worried again but did not know about what. Rain clouds? Why was he so foolish? His heart was racing and cold sweat had developed. He stood up and paced around in his room.

“Calm- you are safe, Faramir. Deep breaths. Calm down. Come take a seat,” Imrahil said, as he took back the empty mug from Faramir after he drank the willow bark. “Do you want to share what happened out there?” 

“No, nothing. I can’t explain it. I think there is an extra sleeping draught, the King told me I needed. I forgot which it is.” Faramir sighed and indeed felt too warm for comfort, and he was still agitated. 

“What happened?” a hobbit or two or three peeked into the room. Pippin, Frodo and Sam walked in.

“Nothing happened- thank you for the concern,” Faramir was in no mood to explain. He knew he didn’t need to act differently with the hobbits, but he was not used to the attention. He tried to breathe normally again and with time, he felt less anxious.

“Pippin - you were with the King this morning- do you remember which mug is for the sleeping draught?” asked Imrahil.

“Yes, I do! It would be this one- he pointed to the dark blue mug. This one's for uninterrupted sleep. Aragorn told me this morning. Lord Faramir must take this one. The yellow mug is willow bark. Then the glass one is feverfew, I think,” said Pippin.

“And what is feverfew for?” asked Sam.

“I believe it’s for headaches.”

“Thank you, Pippin,” Faramir grinned. “I am indebted to you remembering.” Faramir took a sip, bitter as it may be. He felt calmer now but very weary. “I will not be good company, dear hobbits.”

“It’s all right- we need to see how you are. Perhaps we will have dinner later,” said Sam.

“Yes, I believe so-” Aragorn’s sleeping draught was starting to have an effect, as Faramir’s eyelids started to get heavy. He took off his boots, and laid his head down on the soft pillow, and closed his eyes, trying to keep breathing normally. He still heard the hobbits and his uncle talk about him though.
 

“Should we call Aragorn again since he did tell him to let him know if the fever arises again,” said Pippin.

“Anything alarming happened?” Sam asked.

“No, we were just taking a walk, and he became very anxious,” replied Imrahil.

“Anxiety is common for Black Breath. I think we should be on the lookout. Someone should also get Aragorn just in case,” said Frodo.

Faramir felt frustrated as he turned in bed. Why did simple things make him feel so anxious? This had not happened before. He cursed at his weakness. He had no time to further worry as the tea made him fall asleep.

TBC

Chapter 13 - Friends in Unexpected Places

Belegion was a young brown haired medium-built soldier who was Faramir’s subordinate and had always respected the first family of stewards. His older brother, Belegor, three years older, was also summoned to fight. Belegor was assigned to Cair Andros. He was skilled in arms and was proud of his own country . Their parents were loath to depart with their sons but when duty calls, one must defend your country .

Belegion was also assigned duty. He was with the Rangers of Ithilien and that’s how he met Faramir. From the beginning, he was drawn to the Captain. He led by example, was fair and wise. Faramir always was logical with his decisions and led the younger soldiers with more guidance.

HIs older brother Belegor perished in Cair Andros the night before the Causeway Forts. It was an arrow to the back. His body was fortunately not severed by the orcs for another comrade, Callon made sure to bring him back to Belegion. He was grateful he could bury his brother. However, he was steeped in grief. Losing Belegor was so hard to bear. Belegor and he did everything together in youth. From learning to ride, archery, evading their parents during dinnertime, Belegion could not think of anything he wouldn’t do with Belegor. He was his confidante and he looked up to him.

Belegion was one of the first families that Faramir visited and also provided reparations for. Faramir did not know Belegor well but provided much needed comfort and words of advice to Belegion and his parents.

“We will always remember Belegor and his duty to Gondor.  His name will be on our memorials for the service he provided. He died with honor and may the Valar keep him safe in their keeping,” Faramir said to Belegion the last time they met. “Gondor also has some special restitution for your family.”

“Thank you my lord. How do you fare? You must be tired. Many things have gone on for you in the past two weeks,” Belegion looked at his friend with concern. Faramir looked tired most of the time when he saw him.

“I am well, thank you.”

“We will miss Boromir–he was so strong and unconquerable. He is what every Gondorian lad sought to be in terms of strength in arms.  Boromir was respectable and loved-just like you.”

“Yes, it is grievous that he is not with us. He is missed. Like you, I wish he was beside us again. He was taken far too soon. ” Faramir looked away from Belegion. He tried not to show the deep pain he still felt inside. There was no time to show weakness.

“It is unfortunate our older brothers are not with us. I felt Belegor always seemed invincible too- I do not know what to do without him,” Belegion started to weep.

Faramir did not know what to say but spoke words of solace and gave his friend an embrace. “We will get through this, my friend. It should get easier with time.”

“You’re so brave, Faramir- I don’t know how you can handle everything.”

Faramir did not know either- he just kept pushing forward- what can anyone do? He had duties to keep him busy. However, a slight headache started, so he bid Belegion farewell. 

“I’ll return soon to see how you are. Please take good care of you and your parents. They need you to be there for them.”  Indeed, Belegion’s parents looked to their only remaining son even more. They were grateful the Steward came to offer his condolences and met up with them so much. Faramir did feel connected to Belegion because not only did they both lose an older brother and also because they liked the same books of poetry and Numenor and valued the outdoors.

And that was already more than a week ago. Belegion knew that Faramir did not make promises he could not keep. He wondered if Faramir was all right. He decided to write to him.  He did not think it was appropriate to go stalk out the busy Steward- he was indeed very busy taking care of Gondor.  Writing would be more appropriate.

Dear Lord Faramir,

Sorry to bother you but it’s been over a week since you’ve visited. My parents and I are fine and appreciate the reparation amount that was sent over. We are wondering how you are?

We made a personal memorial for Belegor at home to remember him. My parents wanted to bury his items, and I  kept one thing of his which is a picture that I'll put in my room to look at and remember in love. 

It is hard but we are lucky to live in a new age. I just keep counting my blessings. Is that how you are getting by each day? I was gardening today and there was a white lilac that just bloomed in my garden and I thought of you because I know you like the outdoors. Also, signs of hope are everywhere in the city if we look hard enough. The flowers are blooming again like it once was and I’m surprised Spring brings so much loveliness outdoors. Let us look at the small things that can make us smile again.

Please come visit or write to me soon.

Thank you.

Most sincerely,

Belegion

…

“I am feeling better, truly. Perhaps I can go into the office tomorrow for a little while? I promise that I will work only half a day and come back to rest in the afternoon. I would like to catch up on any messages I missed.” Faramir was already asking the King to return to work the following day, feeling antsy to return to a bit of normalcy.  The sleep was still questionable in Aragorn’s standards. The Steward was up at least twice during the night with bad nightmares but fortunately they were not as bad as previous times. Aragorn didn’t count interrupted sleep as a good night’s sleep. The fever came and went so there was concern regarding that. The shoulder was still cool and Aragorn could tell it was still tender and he worked with Faramir to make the shoulder a bit more mobile after the Black Breath’s effect on it. He instructed him to exercise it appropriately and daily.

“No, it is too soon. You didn’t recover for half a day yet, had a panic attack yesterday and a lingering fever. I am not sure you know how to control your dreams,” replied Aragorn firmly. “We are all still very concerned for you.  You are not aware, but the Black Breath has not gone completely.”

“I understand that,” Faramir sighed. “But what can anyone do?”  He was not as fatigued as the teas had helped, but he dreaded being idle.

“You need to take it day by day in regards to your recovery. The past is the past but we can tell me what you are truly feeling,” said Aragorn resolutely.  “You’ve gone through plenty and you need time for yourself.  After the events of the past two weeks, I have not yet confidence to let you go as you were, and we cannot afford another relapse.  You are to stay put and rest.”

Faramir stayed quiet because his liege-lord and healer had already said no. He paced in his room. “Then can I at least check for any messages? Here?”

“I’ll ask the servants to bring you any pertinent messages like mail.”

“Thank you.”

“In the meantime, don’t overtax yourself, there are teas for sleeplessness and headache that you are to take. If the fever returns, there is willow bark.  You are to be at least twenty-four hours fever free and nightmare free before we see another course of action.  Please rest.”

“I remember. Thank you, my King,” Faramir bowed at Aragorn.

“I will come back three hours after noon because there is a meeting unrelated to state affairs I need to attend.”

Faramir wondered at that but did not probe. It was nearing mid-Summer’s and the King said that there was a special event coming. He hoped it was a good event. 

There were three letters for Faramir including two soldiers thanking him for his support and reparation and Belegion. He read Belegion’s letter first.

Faramir was glad for his friend’s letter. He missed his friend as well and felt guilty he hadn’t been back for a week. Has it already been a week since he made his rounds? He was going to go after he had unexpectedly spoken with Gandalf and fallen into a swoon that day and that was  almost a week ago.  He wondered if he could go visit him without the Fellowship and uncle following him. He thought he at least could have that liberty to visit his friend. 

He dressed into his Ranger gear- he wanted stealth and privacy in his trip to the Sixth Circle. The less people recognize him the better.  He slipped out of the rear door where there were less guards and went quickly down from the level of the Citadel.

Belegion did not live too far from the Citadel. He was in the fifth circle and since it was a nice sunny warm day, Faramir thought the walk was calming to his nerves. Faramir avoided the street leading to Rath Dinen and the Silent Street at all costs. He was not ready to revisit the area where Denethor had met his doom.  He shivered thinking about that road but quickly walked the opposite direction.

Finally, after half hour’s walk, he arrived to Belegion’s home.

“Lord Faramir, what a lovely surprise! “ Belegion gave his mentor an embrace after he opened the door. “Come in, do you want some tea?”

“Why yes, that would be wonderful. I received your letter. Thank you for that. I apologize I have not visited. “

“I understand that you’ve been busy, reordering the country and city…I'm sorry to bother you.”

“No bother at all, no bother at all,” Faramir sipped the tea. He felt weary after the walk, but he was glad for the company that Belegion provided. The young man was good natured and had a happy spirit despite the recent grief he had to sustain.

They spoke about how Belegion was, about how the parents are. They had stepped out at the moment and Faramir was glad since he wanted to talk as peers to Belegion. 

“You look a bit less tired, Lord Faramir. Are you doing all right? I have not seen you since two days after the funeral- you looked more tired then.”

“Yes, resting is what I’ve been doing,” admitted Faramir.  “King’s orders.”

“Really? Are you better now?”

“Yes, I am on the mend. The King told me to rest a bit more, but I am feeling fine,” said Faramir.

“Oh, I’m sorry if this visit wasn’t–

“No, no need to be silly- I received your letter and thought this was the best way to show my gratitude at your thoughtfulness.”

“I’m in your service, Steward– I thank you more for your kindness that you’ve always shown.” Belegion bowed to Steward.

“No need to be this formal,” replied Faramir, holding his friend’s hand up from the bow. “I appreciated the line in your letter about being appreciative of the small things. It is so true. We should be glad for the new age and all the little things that make us feel alive, so I’ve come to thank you for that small insight.”

“You are never alone, dear Lord and we do only have one world to appreciate. Also there are those that still care for you, and I've learned to appreciate that.”

Faramir felt tears in his eyes. Belegion was right. Aragorn, the hobbits, Gandalf, Imrahil and of course Eowyn had all shown such kindness to him. If they were not around these days, he would’ve fallen into the Shadow already. He shuddered involuntarily. He did not want to. His place was here to rebuild Gondor and live in appreciation of the Fourth Age where the King had returned to also guide it to peace and prosperity. He believed whole-heartedly it’ll be a better world now that the Enemy was vanquished. Gondor did not have to fear for their borders anymore. And he was in charge of Ithilien.

“Thank you- you speak in such great truths. I have failed to see lately how much good there still is in this world,” remarked Faramir with a sigh.

“I believed you to be the positive one, Lord Faramir. You made me more hopeful since all you do is good for our world.”

Faramir laughed. “It’s my duty as the Steward to provide a plan forward. The King is wise and talented, but we all have to assist.”

“Again, I am always impressed by you, Lord. You’re an inspiration to many. I really thank you for being my friend and mentor. I learn much from you.”

“As do I, friend, as do I,” Faramir replied.

Belegion brought out some brandy and two shot glasses and some warm bread. “I am happy to see you- let’s have a drink, shall we?”

Faramir found no reason not to.  “Sure, I am grateful for that.”

“To our brothers Belegor and Boromir, the late Steward, and all those that perished,” said Belegion.

“May they rest in peace and let us always remember them,” added Faramir solemnly.  The two men clinked the glasses and downed the first round.  After two rounds, Faramir felt very relaxed, maybe a bit too relaxed.  Drinking had also made him feel less guarded. He had to be mindful he did not overstay. “What is the time?”

“It is still early. Do you have to be somewhere?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Relax, Lord! My parents are not expected to return till later.  You can tell me what else has been happening. Where is your soon to be bride? You found a maiden at the Houses of Healing? “ asked Belegion. He poured another glass, but Faramir politely declined. He did not want to return home too inebriated. He was already feeling some effect. The King was going to see him later.

“Why yes, Lady Eowyn of Rohan– she is the most lovely lady I’ve ever met- the most valiant,  insightful, and understanding,” Faramir smiled. “I miss her. It would be so much darker without her. I really am fortunate to have met her.”

“Why is she not here?”

“She went back for funeral preparations for her uncle who perished in the Battle of the Pelennor.”

“I’m sorry to hear that- will you join her soon?”

“Why yes, I will–very soon I will go to Rohan to give a betrothal speech.  We will have to wait till August.” Faramir thought it was a long way till then but he knew about the special event in late June and they had to be patient when Eomer was coming back to retrieve Theoden which was scheduled to happen in July.

“How lucky you are!” exclaimed Belegion. “I have not found a maiden yet to wed,” he said and looked down sadly.

“You will- you are still young.”

They fell to silence for a while and then suddenly, Faramir felt that he should go. He felt very weary again. He needed enough energy to return home.

“I better be departing- thank you for the company and the drinks.”

“Anytime, Lord Faramir. Please be safe returning home and come by soon again!”

“Yes I will.”

TBC

Chapter 14 - Hide and Seek

“Where did Faramir go?” Pippin and the hobbits were in the Steward’s room but there was no Steward. It was two hours past noon.

“Do you think I have a Faramir tracker?” Merry replied.

“This is not a funny matter,” said Sam. “Strider is coming in an hour.”

“Did he leave any note?” Gandalf asked.

“No, he did not,” said Frodo.  “Should we be worried? Perhaps he will be back soon.”

“Maybe he is with his uncle?” Merry said. “Imrahil said he would bring him out of Minas Tirith and it seems like a good day for it.”

“Hope he is feeling up for it. Aragorn didn’t mention anything about that being too strenuous,” said Pippin.

“You really think you’re Healer Took, don’t you, Pippin? Just because of knowing the medicines–”

“I have a good memory, what can you do but admit that, dear Brandybuck?” said Pippin with a grin.

“Perhaps he is better and went for a walk. We should not worry.” said Gandalf. He had been around and heard from the hobbits and Aragorn how the Steward was and felt that there should not be too many people around-just enough for support.

“Shall we go find him? I do not know why but I worry,” said Merry. “Pippin and I shall go look and Sam and Frodo stay here.”

“But the city is big- where shall we start?” asked Pippin.

It was not that Faramir wanted to take the long way home. He was thinking about where to place memorials strategically. He wanted to make sure those that perished would be remembered well. He did not mean to work, but thinking about Belegion and his brother made him want to make sure all soldiers would be remembered. Many were his friends. He felt a pang of sorrow remembering how his closest Ithilien Rangers had to go outside their comfort zone to help with the defense of the Forts and Rammos Echor. He lost a third of his men in the ill thought out defense of the Pelennor Fields. His heart felt heavy recollecting that. 

Suddenly a headache reemerged. He thought that the timing could not be worse. Instead of walking around in the bright sun which made his headache worse, he went into a shaded alley to catch his breath and try to ignore the pain better without the sunshine bearing down on him.

He sat down and breathed slowly.  He closed his eyes for a moment’s relief. Maybe drinking wasn’t a good idea.

Finally after what seemed to be fifteen to twenty minutes (did he fall asleep?), he stood back up slowly, trying to be steady, and make his way home slowly. 

Suddenly two small figures appeared and approached him. He felt both glad and worried about what they might think.

“Faramir, are you alright?” Pippin glanced at him worriedly, holding onto Faramir’s hand.  “We are glad we found you.”

“We were troubled when we didn’t see you, so we decided to come and find you. Where have you been? Are you alright?” Merry said looking at the Steward’s pale face. Faramir also did not seem like he was focusing well. 

“I..just have a headache. It is nothing. Sorry for… worrying you. Let… us return.” Faramir felt glad the hobbits were there as he slowly stood up and made his way back home with their careful guidance.

The hobbits guided Faramir slowly back to his home where Frodo, Sam, and Gandalf awaited him.

“Faramir! Where have you been?  You do not look well,” said Frodo. Faramir looked sickly pale again.

“No, I am fine- I was just visiting a friend—just a headache,” replied Faramir wearily. The headache abated a bit but he felt unnaturally weary. He took some of the feverfew chamomile tea that Aragorn gave him and went to bed.

“Did you eat already?” asked Gandalf.

“Yes, I will later, but I am weary now– I will just —rest,” Faramir’s eyes closed, head on the pillow, eyes closed before he finished the sentence.

Sam and Frodo exchanged anxious glances with the wizard and Merry and Pippin.

“Where did you find him?” asked Frodo to the younger hobbits.

“He was on his way home but he seemed like he had a strong headache since he seemed like he was resting. We found him in an alley. He kept quiet about how he was feeling. I am not sure where he went,” said Merry.

“We should be on the lookout until Strider comes,” Sam said with consternation.

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? Images of shadow and flame flared up.

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. He felt helpless- was it his fault he had perished because of the dream that he was trying to find a reason to? Did he send him needlessly to Imladris?

But there was also sunshine-  Eowyn’s golden hair and slender frame also filled his mind and he felt tears of joy to know such a beautiful lady who agreed to marry him. He saw Belegion’s eyes fill with happiness when he visited him.

Finally, he saw Gondor restored with the gardens he envisioned and also a statue for Boromir forever remembered for the sacrifice he made.

Faramir stirred, opened his eyes, his headache was almost gone but he felt warm.  A concerned Aragorn glanced at him.

“What happened?”

“Can I ask you what happened, Steward? You are feverish again so please drink some willow bark now.” Aragorn helped Faramir to sitting position and guided a mug to Faramir’s lips.

“But I think my dream has improved,” said Faramir after he drank the tea. “It was not as dark. There was a hopeful ending.”

“I’m glad for that,” Aragorn still was not convinced. “Where did you go today, if i may ask? The hobbits and Gandalf did not find you and when you returned, you did not look well, they said. It is already sunset, and they went for dinner which you should have as well.”

“I was just visiting a friend, Belegion,” said Faramir. “Dinner sounds good.” He did not eat much that day but felt his appetite returning a little. Contrary to how he thought, he still felt light-headed.

“Who is Belegion and why did you not leave a note to anyone? We were worried. You need to rest more. I will send a message for the hobbits to bring you some food.”

Faramir sighed, “He is my friend I have and he wrote to me to visit– I did not think it was too far, and I enjoy his company so I departed for a couple hours.”

“Given that you are recovering, we would like to know where you are- sorry if it feels restricting in any way but we want to be careful,” replied Aragorn. “You were away for a while and we were worried especially since your headache and fever reemerged – are you feeling stressed or anxious?”

“No, I am fine–”

“Truthfully?”

“On my way back from Belegion’s home, I was –looking at areas to put memorials. It should not have too much of an effect, would it?”

Aragorn shook his head, “Faramir, I did reprimand you not to work and thinking about work is inclusive of that task. We will take time to remember those that we have lost but given your situation, you need to recover first and foremost. Think about your impending ride to Rohan for your betrothal, think about where in Ithilien you will live–those are happier things to focus on at the moment until we can confirm you’re free from the Black Breath. Any anxiety or nightmare you have puts you back in risk, do you understand?”

Faramir nodded. “Thank you for clarifying –I'll be more mindful of the thoughts and plans I have.” He didn’t know that something as simple as planning could cause such a reaction.

Then the hobbits reappeared in the doorway. “Time for dinner, Steward!”

“As always, Pippin brought your favorites,” said Merry.

“Thank you, Pippin,” said Faramir with a smile. He was lucky to have the hobbits and he was always cheered by their company.

After dinner, Faramir found some energy to start a letter to Eowyn.

“Dearest Eowyn,

It was a better day today- i met with my friend Belegion who is a cadet that trained with me in Ithilien. He lost his brother too in the Battle of the Pelennor. He is doing well and requested me to visit him and I'm glad that I went since he wrote to me the most heartwarming letter.

Do not worry for me. I am better from before. 

Was that convincing enough? He really did not want Eowyn to worry. He was on the mend, he was sure of it.

I countdown the days and minutes till we meet again. Your hair is like sunlight to me, keeping me present, anchoring me to the good in this world. Thank you for coming into my life and for accepting me. I am so grateful for you and love you so much.

Yours forever and always,

Faramir

Faramir did not send the letter yet-- he did not want to avoid Eowyn's questions but he wasn't sure how to talk about the Black Breath for he was still fearful of it returning and was not prepared to explain. He sighed and went back to pacing the room. He will finish the letter later. Finally, he settled on reading the books his uncle had brought to calm and keep himself distracted.

TBC