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