Chapter 7       

If there was one thing Éowyn had learned in all her life, it was this; horses are the perfect distraction.  Since her husband left for Minas Tirith, Éowyn found herself spending more and more time among the majestic beasts in the estate's stables.  Their calm nature helped to ease the White Lady's troubled thoughts.  Éowyn had not stopped thinking about Faramir's dream since that night a week ago.  While the content of the dream, at least what Faramir had told her, had been disturbing, it was the effect on her husband that caused her to worry.  Faramir was a strong man, able to stand in battle against impossible odds without so much as flinching.  It was this strength both inside and outside that had called Éowyn to him in the first place.  His silent strength had kept her sane when waiting in the Halls of Healing while everyone else marched to war. 

Faramir had had nightmares before.  During their first year together, he frequently dreamed of his father and the flames that almost destroyed them both.  He had woken up with a cold sweat, but it was never too severe.  A few soothing words from his beloved wife and a reassuring kiss would lure him back to the present and bring more pleasant visions.  But these dreams were different.  To see his eyes wide with terror, his body shaking as sweat dripped down his pale face; it was as if she was seeing a different man.  If there was something out there that could get Faramir so scared…

"Valar help us all," Éowyn whispered to herself as she set aside the brushes and curry combs.

In the past, she would have mounted up and ridden with the wind to forget her troubles and clear her mind.  Now, however, she had to constantly stop herself from reaching for her saddle.   There was a life within her and she did not want it to be harmed, even if it meant giving up her favorite pastime.  So instead of riding, Éowyn tried to find contentment in grooming her friends.  The monotony of the brush strokes allowed her to sort her thoughts with minimal distraction.  And she had a lot of thoughts to sort out.  Needless to say, the horses in the stables had never looked better.

"I imagine all of you would look positively gorgeous running across the plains now with your shining coats," The White Lady of Ithilien stroked the mane of the closest horse. "I only wish that I could be out there with you.  And I will in a few months.  And just think, in a few years I will not be riding alone.  My son or daughter will be a horse master like their ancestors before."

The horses seemed to all agree, neighing and pawing the ground.  It was as if they knew that new life was on its way.  Éowyn smiled at their intelligence.  She loved her horses with all of her being, but they could never take the place of her husband.  Even now, she longed to hear word from Faramir.  They had been apart before, but her pregnancy kept him within an hour's ride at all times.  He was always close by, ready in case something went wrong or she needed assistance.  Éowyn had teased him for being so overprotective, but now that he was gone, his fears became hers.  She had lost many hours of sleep, wondering what would happen if something ill befell her or the baby while he was gone.  She had heard of spontaneous abortions and stillbirths if a pregnant woman fell and adamantly refused to go near any stairs.  Many of the servant women had comforted her, reassuring that her fears were very common for first time mothers and that she should not worry so much.  Their words helped, but she still longed for Faramir.

"Tis strange," She whispered to herself. "He has been gone for only a week and I feel helpless.  The White Lady of Ithilien never relied on the strength of Men before.  I have always fended for myself.  How can one unborn child make me so dependant upon a man?  And to make matters worse, this helplessness has me talking to myself!" She smiled knowingly at the horses. "But we will not tell Faramir that."

As she dusted off her skirts, Éowyn stepped outside the stables.  It was beginning to grow dark as she headed for the main house.  She resolved to change into something a bit cleaner before arranging the evening meal.  As she neared house, a sound in the distance caught her attention.  It sounded like horses approaching from the West.  Smiling, Éowyn dashed away from the house to see who was arriving.  Perhaps they were riders from Rohan with word for her brother or perhaps, and she dearly hoped so, it would be Faramir.  As the sound of hooves grew louder, Éowyn could clearly see four riders upon three horses.  Mindful of her distended belly, the White Lady jogged forward to meet them. 

Upon seeing the lone figure coming toward the party, Faramir slowed his horse enough so that he could dismount and catch his wife in his arms.  With great love and tenderness, he embraced her and caught her lips in a blissful kiss.  Neither paid any mind to the three others who dismounted and politely averted their eyes as the couple was reunited.

"Faramir!" Éowyn was practically sobbing with joy. "I have missed you so much.  Please do not leave me alone for so long ever again!"

"I am sorry I had to leave, my dearest, but I am back now.  I have missed you as well."

Wiping her eyes, Éowyn immediately wrapped Legolas in a hug and then embraced Gimli as well. "Legolas, Gimli!  I am so glad you are here.  I have missed the two of you so much!"  Much to everyone's surprise, she then grabbed Aragorn in a passionate embrace and buried her face in his shirt. "My Lord Aragorn!  My heart has wept for the time we have been apart!  I am so happy to see you again!"

The normally composed King of Gondor shot his Steward an uncomfortable look, uncertain how Faramir would react to seeing his wife embracing the man she used to be in love with.  Faramir, however, shook his head with a chuckle.  Over Éowyn's head, he mouthed the words "mood swings".  Aragorn nodded in understanding before gently detaching himself from Éowyn's vice-like grip. 

"I am glad to see you as well, Lady Éowyn," The king gave her a kind smile. "You look wonderful.  Faramir has obviously been taking good care of you."

Éowyn's joyful smile immediately disappeared. "Takes care of me!?  He is hardly here anymore!  I have had to take care of myself this whole time while he was gallivanting off with the rest of the boys.  I should say that he has hardly done anything for me!"  Upon seeing the disappointment on her husband's face, she immediately wrapped her arms around his waist.  "I am sorry, my love.  I did not mean to say that.  You have done a wonderful job taking care of the baby and me.  Forgive my words."

"I could never be angry with you," Faramir smiled. "Now, while we stable the horses, could you instruct the servants to prepare rooms for our guests and a few others that will be arriving soon?"

"Others?"

"Word has been sent to your brother to come here for a council meeting."

"Of course!"

The thought of seeing her brother again had Éowyn racing back to the house, eager to make preparations.  As she disappeared into the house, Aragorn turned to Faramir with a chuckle.

"Mood swings indeed, my friend."

Faramir laughed. "And to think you will experience the same thing with Arwen."

*          *          *

Faramir sighed in defeat as he sat back in his chair and rubbed his temples.  While he had been gone, his paperwork had piled up to enormous proportions.  Letters from other nobles, trade agreements from other realms, scouting reports from his rangers; it was all too much to look at in one night.  Besides, he could not even get through a single report without having his thoughts wander back to his brother.  Now that his body was gone, would Boromir's soul be in danger as he had said?  If that was true, than what could be done to stop it?  With a growl of frustration, Faramir brushed his arm over his desk, scattering the mountains of paper across the floor.

"You are brooding again."

Faramir looked up as his wife entered his study. "Can you blame me?"

"Not really," Éowyn came to a halt behind his chair and gently rubbed her hands over his shoulder.  He had told her earlier of the incident in Minas Tirith and Éowyn had been truly shocked to hear of the desecration of Boromir's tomb.  Since then, she had looked for ways to lighten Faramir's mood.

"And yet I can not find the energy to bury myself in petty complaints and obscene proposals."

"Come," Éowyn took her husband's hand and led him out of the study. "If you stay in here, you will only brood.  I have something that will lift your spirits." 

Shaking his head in pleasant disbelief, Faramir allowed his wife to lead him down the hall to a spare bedroom that was in the process of being converted into a nursery.  Faramir could not help but smile at Éowyn's enthusiasm as she opened the door.  Since they had discovered her pregnancy, the Prince and White Lady of Ithilien had been very slow in making the proper arrangements for the baby; mainly because they could not come to an agreement on whether the nursery decor should be primarily Gondorian or Rohirrim. 

"So tell me, Éowyn, what manner of furniture with the markings of Rohan have you snuck in here while I was gone?" Faramir teased.

Éowyn punched him, none to gently, in the arm; a tribute to her strength as a shield maiden. "While I do wish for our child to grow up in the atmosphere as befits one with the bloodline of the Mark, I would never stoop so low as to go behind your back.  If I want Rohirrim furniture for the nursery, than I shall tell you outright."

"Ah, my dearest.  Tis a pity that your straight forward nature is not shared by the counselors back in Minas Tirith."

"But if they did, then you would not appreciate my nature nearly as much.  Now come, for I have a marvelous surprise.  The cradle was delivered yesterday."

"Cradle?" Faramir could not recall reaching an agreement on the cradle's style with Éowyn. "And just who built this cradle?"

Éowyn gave her husband a mischievous smile. "We are both too stubborn, Faramir, and I know that we would never reach an agreement.  So, I figured the best way to solve at least this dilemma was to have someone other than Rohan and Gondor make the cradle."

As Éowyn stepped aside, Faramir was allowed his first look at the cradle in the corner.  What he saw was the most beautiful piece of furniture he had ever lay eyes on.  Beautiful vines of ebony wood had been weaved together to create a magnificent basket large enough for a child to stretch out in.  The wood was woven tightly together along the bottom, leaving no holes for anything to fall out.  Near the top, were tiny holes so that a child could peek out at the world around it. Upon closer inspection, Faramir could see swirls of fine silver scattered all over.  A round mattress of soft linen lined the bottom and deep green blankets with fine gold embroidery were piled on top.  The vines braided downward to form a thick and sturdy base resembling the trunk of a great tree.  Suspended above the cradle was a mobile of wooden stars, horses, and trees crafted with incredible detail. 

"Magnificent," He gasped. "And I must commend you for your commission of the Ithilien Elves for the construction of this fine masterpiece.  You were right, though, asking those not of Gondor or Rohan to build the cradle.  By the time we would have reached a compromise, our child would have a family of their own." 

"Just think," Éowyn pulled Faramir down next to her on a couch.  "In only a few months, we shall have a child to fill that cradle.  Which would you prefer, a boy or a girl?"

"I do not care as long as the child is healthy.  We shall raise him or her with love and gentle guidance."

"And here I thought I was growing too sentimental," Éowyn teased playfully. "And one day our child will grow into a fine adult."

"And we both know what they will become."

"A warrior," Éowyn said firmly.

"A scholar," Faramir said at the same time.

They both paused and glared at each other.

"Or you could compromise and allow your child to become a healer," Aragorn poked his head through the doorway. 

"And let you corrupt our child with your teachings?  I think not!" Éowyn exclaimed.

Aragorn merely laughed. "Much as I hate to ruin this moment, I have come to request that the evening meal be served soon.  Gimli's stomach is beginning to growl and Legolas is afraid that he might mistake our Dwarven friend for a Warg."

"Very well, I will inform the kitchen staff," Faramir stood and left for the kitchens with Éowyn behind him.

*          *          * 

The stars shone brightly over the land of Ithilien as Faramir and Éowyn walked toward the stables.  Dinner had been a lively affair with stories and tales of the different realms.  Gimli was like a young child in his excitement as he told of the progress his Dwarves were making with the Glittering Caves of Aglarond while Legolas smiled with pride as he shared stories of his thriving colony in the Ithilien forests.  Even Aragorn managed to keep everyone laughing as he shared stories of pushy ambassadors embarrassing themselves before the entire court and raucous drinking parties, hosted by the royal guards, that he secretly joined in.  Nothing was ever said on the attack or the loss of Boromir's remains, much to Faramir's relief.  It was obvious that everyone intended for this night to be one of laughter and friendship.  The mood would subdued enough when Éomer arrived and their council began. 

Shortly after the meal had ended, the guests had excused themselves and gone their separate ways.  Seizing the opportunity to spend some quality time with his wife, Faramir had led Éowyn outside for a moonlit stroll.  Now that he was back, he did not want to waste a single minute with her.  During their walk, Éowyn told him of the things, or lack thereof, that she had done in his absence.  Faramir was eager to see just how much attention she had lavished upon the horses and began to guide them toward the stables.  As he was about to open the door, Faramir paused.  A cold shiver traveled up his spine and he instantly knew that something was not right.  He turned and saw Legolas a few feet away with his eyes glued to the north.  Ignoring Éowyn's confused look, he walked over to his friend's side.

"You sense it too?"

The Elf nodded. "Darkness approaches.  We had best warn Aragorn and Gimli."

Faramir nodded and moved to guide Éowyn back to the house when Legolas suddenly tackled him to the ground.  A high pitched whoosh sounded just above his head as the Steward hit the grass.  Looking up, he saw a black arrow embedded in the side of the stable door. 

"Too late!" Legolas muttered under his breath as he leapt to his feet, notched his bow, and fired into the darkness.  A moment later, there was a bloodcurdling squeal as his arrow found its mark. 

A very familiar feeling of cold dread descended upon Faramir as he scrambled to his feet and grabbed Éowyn's arm.  They were in danger, and he knew it.  The shrieks of Uruk-hai soldiers could now be heard and they were too close.  He looked toward the house and deemed it too far, so he yanked his wife toward the stables.  Another arrow came sailing past and slammed into the door, causing Éowyn to yelp in surprise.  Out of the corner of his eye, Faramir could see Aragorn and Gimli racing toward them with several guards; no doubt alerted by the shrieks.  Aragorn was waving toward Éowyn and pointing at the barn.  Faramir nodded in understanding and yanked open the stable door.  The others could deal with this threat.  His duty was to protect his wife and child.  Once inside, he barred the door and unsheathed his sword, grateful that he had brought it along. 

"Faramir, what is going on?" Éowyn demanded as she picked up a short knife used for trimming horse manes and tails. 

"It seems that our enemies have followed us here," Faramir grimly replied. "No doubt they know that we are aware of their activities and are trying to stop us before any retaliation is planned."

Within minutes, Faramir could hear the clash of metal against metal.  Silently, he cracked open the door to see how close the enemies were.  To his shock, he saw his king being pushed back by several Uruk-hai.  They were only a stone's throw away from the stables; too close.  Looking back, he saw Éowyn hold the knife in front of her, ready to defend her family at any cost.

"No Éowyn" Faramir hissed. "I know you wish to fight, but this situation is too dangerous."

The White Lady of Ithilien narrowed her eyes and replied in a harsh whisper. "I am a shield maiden of Rohan, Faramir, not some weak courtier.  It is my destiny to fight all who threaten my realm.  You can not stop me."

"No, I cannot," Faramir sighed. "But you must reconsider.  If you were fighting alone, I would not object.  However, there is a life growing within you.  If you fall in battle, it will fall with you.  By the Valar, Éowyn, think of our child!"

Éowyn lowered her blade as realization spread across her face. "You are right.  I can not endanger our child like this.  Yet I can not sit idly by while you and our friends fight for your lives.  I want to help."

Faramir's eyes softened.  He stepped back from the door and gently touched his lips to her brow. "I know, beloved, I know.  Right now, you can help by protecting our child.  Please promise me that you will not fight, for I could not live with myself if either of you are hurt."

"I want to fight," Éowyn whispered. "My blood is that of a warrior.  Yet I will respect your wish.  I too do not want any evil to befall our child.  Just promise me that you will survive this, for I could not live with myself if you fall before seeing our child enter this world."

Holding her close, Faramir whispered into her ear. "I will live."

At that moment, the sound of shattering wood echoed throughout the stables as a serrated blade hacked through.  Horses neighed and reared in fright as blades began to hack away at the thick wooden walls.  Drawing his own sword, Faramir placed himself between Éowyn and the approaching enemies.  As the boards splintered, Faramir could make out the faces of his opponents.  They were not Uruk-hai.

Staring back at him were blood red eyes.

An icy hand grasped his heart as tremors rocked through his body.  He could feel his hands begin to shake and he fought hard to keep a grip on his sword.  Éowyn, he had to think of Éowyn and their unborn child.  He could not allow himself to fall victim to that cold darkness, lest he loose his family.

"Éowyn," He gasped out as the ice settled into his lungs. "Éowyn run!  Save our child!"

But Éowyn did not run.  Instead she stayed rooted to the spot, eyes wide with terror as she stared at the Men breaking through.

"Éowyn!" Faramir yelled again.

"Red eyes," She whispered, as if in a trance. "Blood red eyes.  They burn my soul and freeze my body…"

"By the Valar, Éowyn!" Faramir was now screaming. "You must run!"

"So cold…Why will my body not move?"

Faramir realized that he had no choice.  Éowyn was in a state of shock, held in place by the power of those demon eyes.  He had to break their hold on her, and that meant breaking their icy hold on him as well.  He summoned up every ounce of strength in his body and focused his mind on one task; protecting his only remaining family.  With a harsh cry of anger and determination, he pushed down the cold in his body and charged forward.  His sword swung, only to be met by the blade of one of his enemies.  But that was enough.

Éowyn suddenly blinked as she regained control of her body and immediately threw open the door of the nearest stall.  It was instinct alone that allowed her to throw her body upon the horse's back and dig her heels in.  The stallion immediately charged forward toward the gaping hole in the stable wall.  Meanwhile, Faramir managed to throw himself at the dark Men, pushing them out of Éowyn's path.  The horse leapt through the hole and charged past the attacking band of Uruk-hai.  Éowyn did not care which direction she was heading, as long as it was away from danger.  The horse, sensing her urgency, began to run harder as he carried her away from the battle and into the dark night.

Hours dragged by until the sun was halfway into the sky.  Éowyn had not stopped her ride since she had left, and was now beginning to realize the foolishness of her actions.  She was riding without a saddle or reigns, letting her horse determine their path.  She had been leaning forward the entire time, pressing her belly against the stallion's shoulders and she was starting to feel pain from it.  Her back and legs were in agony from riding bareback and her absence from riding.  As the stallion pressed on, she could feel herself growing dizzy from fatigue and knew that she had to stop soon before she passed out.  She gently tugged on the horse's mane and groaned for him to slow down.  As the horse checked his pace, Éowyn's ears suddenly picked up the sound of more horses coming toward her.  Fear gripped her.  Were more enemies on their way? 

Éowyn was about to guide the horse away from its path when the newcomers entered her line of sight.  A very familiar banner of green and white fluttered in the breeze as they neared her position.  A smile crossed the White Lady's face as she sobbed in relief.  The Valar had finally been kind to her this day.  Awkwardly, she rolled herself off of the horse's back, causing her to double over in pain as a throbbing ache slammed into her entire body.  The approaching riders obviously saw her pain and sped their pace to reach her quickly.

"Éowyn!" The cry seemed so distant.

Éowyn slumped forward, but one of the riders quickly dismounted and caught her before she fell.

"Éowyn!  What has happened?"

Éowyn closed her eyes as she leaned into the familiar embrace. "…Éomer…" She whispered. "Battle…not human…Faramir…"

Nothing more was said as darkness descended upon her and she lapsed into unconsciousness in her brother's arms.            

Author's Notes: Thanks a lot to everyone who has sent me reviews for the last chapter.  Thanks even more to Arlessiar for giving me the information on Faramir and Éowyn's first child.  I looked everywhere in the appendices and couldn't find their first child's name.  I now have a big decision to make.  Should I follow canon or go with my reviewers?  I guess we'll all know the answer by the end (which won't be for a while).  I wish that I could update faster, but real life is…well…real life.  One of my classes this semester requires for me to write at least 150 pages for an original novel, so you can guess how most of my time is being spent.  Fear not, I will never give up on this story.  Thanks again to all of my readers who have been so patient with my slow updates.  I can guarantee that you will not be disappointed with the rest of the story.