Prince of Hearts
Minas Tirith 3019
Faramir and Eowyn made their way down from the Tower in the bright
sunshine and blushed when there was some discrete applause and many
grins from those who had seen their new Steward and the brave Lady of
Rohan embrace. There were smiles on all the faces they passed except
for one face that was shiny and wet with tears. Faramir was filled with
awe and gratitude that Eowyn had not rejected him as he had feared but
he sighed and his heart went out to the young woman with the
tear-staind face.
Her name was Catriona and she assisted the healer Finlay in caring for
him after the King had brought him back. He had seen her looking at him
and he knew she had spent more time at his bedside than was usual for a
nurse in this busy time of war. Though his heart could not be swayed
from Eowyn, he could not help but be moved by this pale girl with her
glossy dark hair in a neat bun and sadness in her warm brown eyes. In
her own way she had fought as much as any solider as had the other
nurses and healers.
It saddened him to think that he had hurt one who had seen so much
death and done what she could to prevent it. Catriona was certainly not
bold enough to tell him of her feelings when she knew there was little
hope of them being reciprocated but Faramir’s astute gray eyes saw the
longing in her brown ones. She also let her small white hand rest on
his hand a heartbeat or two longer than necessary.
“I must,” Faramir thought to himself, “find some way to repay her for
the care she showed me and the damage I inadvertently did to her.” He
wrapped his mother’s cloak more snugly around Eowyn and whispered
something in her ear that made her smile before returning her to her
quarters and the care of her healers.
He went to his own room where and stared of the window in contemplation
for only a short time before a slow smiled curled at the corner of his
lips. He knew exactly what to do. It would, of course, require the
cooperation of both parties but, if it worked, it would be an excellent
solution and reward for two who had taken part in his salvation.
“Berven,” he called, “could you summon Beregond for me, please?” Berven
nodded his curly brown head, which had only a few threads of silver in
it and left the room.
Faramir thought about his two most loyal men. Berven had been Faramir’s
loyal bodyguard for almost twenty years. Now, as per Gandalf’s orders,
he would share his duties with Beregond. Faramir knew Beregond would
not be far because the man acted as if he was his captain’s second
shadow. He also knew that Beregond was a widower. His wife Morna died
in an epidemic of fever two years before Boromir left for Rivendell and
he had a ten-year-old son named Bergil.
Faramir did not have much time to mull over his plans before Berven and Beregond entered the room.
“Beregond,” Faramir said, “Do you remember Catriona?”
To Faramir’s delight, Beregond blushed and replied, “Aye, my lord. She helped Master Finlay tend your wounds.”
Faramir nodded in satisfaction and said, “Well, I would like you to
give her a message of thanks from me. If I recall, she is knowledgeable
about herbs. If she has a few minutes, she would no doubt be pleased if
you showed her my mother’s herb garden, which the gardener has been
kind enough to keep up.”
Beregond’s face turned a slightly deeper shade of rose before he bowed and said, “It would be my pleasure, Lord Faramir.”
When Beregond returned a good while later with a smile on his face and
lightness to his step Faramir thought his plan had worked. His thoughts
turned to Eowyn. He patted Beregond on the back and said, “It will be a
good summer.”
Beregond smiled and replied, “I think it will, my lord.”
Faramir’s hopes for Beregond and Catriona were realized the following
spring. They were married when the first flowers had begun to bloom.
