Alas! for Love
by Queen of Gondor
The sun spilled golden over the fields of
Pelennor; the late evening was drawing to an end and small stars were
making their way into the darkening sky. A pale figure stood upon the
high walls looking across the country.
“What do you look for, my brother?” Boromir asked as he walked to stand beside Faramir.
“Nothing...a sign.” Faramir answered sadly.
“A sign of what? Peace?”
“Perhaps.” Faramir sighed.
He continued.
“Boromir, the sun rises and sets everyday, be
there war, or not. And the moon shines brighter with each passing
night. But that man, sitting upon the throne, he does not see it. He
does not see the beauty. It is as if he wishes not for peace, but for
fighting. He turns to you in all of it. You are his mind. He listens to
you.”
“Do you not also wish to be listened to?”
“I do. But with every passing day, with every
look that he shows me, with every order he gives me, I wish not to be
heard by him. Boromir, I wish to be loved by someone.”
“I love you, little brother.”
“It would seem that it would be enough to
have the love that you share, but it is not. For you have my love and
father’s. I have yours, and now you are leaving.”
“The people in the city love you.”
“Boromir, they love you!”
“They love you, also.”
“Not now. They may love me when you leave
because they will have no other. They will not love father because he
takes from them the ones they love. They love you.” Faramir sighed, and
forced his tears to stay within his eyes.
Boromir put his hand on Faramir’s shoulder, and slowly drew him round and embraced him.
“They love you. For you show how you want
peace, you wish for it. I do not have time to wish for such things, but
in my heart, I do wish that the city stood strong, that we had a chance
for peace.”
“Then do not leave. For I will be put as Captain in your absence, and we know that I cannot handle it as well as you do.”
“My brother, you can handle fighting just
fine. You are one of the best fighters. Come now, let us get something
to eat before we go to bed. You will need enough sleep if you are to
bid me farewell tomorrow.” Boromir smiled and led Faramir away from the
walls.
Faramir sighed as he remembered the last
conversation he had had with his brother. He blinked away a tear that
was threatening to drip down his face.
“A broken horn…” he whispered sadly. He stood
up from his seat. Flowers grew in the pots, and the sun was high up.
Yet, the war was not over.
“Why…” He blinked away yet another tear as he
gazed down from the wall. The fields below were stained with blood of
those who had fought bravely, for something, for someone.
“Why did he order us to take back the city? All were lost.” He thought to himself. Now he let himself shed his tears openly.
What was left? What hope did they now have?
The brave captain of Gondor was gone, and his understudy was injured,
and healing. Faramir turned his head slightly as he saw a slender white
figure walk to the wall. Éowyn. Forever she ignored him, or spoke to
him as if he wasn’t really the one she wanted to speak to.
She acknowledged him by quickly giving him a
small smile. Her long hair blew in the wind, and she swayed uneasily.
Faramir quickly jogged over to her and steadied her. He helped her to a
seat, then sat down across from her.
“Are you alright?” He asked lifting her head.
“I’m just slightly dizzy, I do not know why.”
“You are not fully healed yet.”
“The Warden informed that you were healing quite well. Soon you shall be able to leave.”
“If I leave, then I can no longer look upon
you. Yet, I feel that I am constantly asking myself why I wait for you
every morning? But to me, it seems that now you are waiting for me
also.”
“My Lord.” Éowyn looked suddenly down. “We must not speak of such things.”
Faramir stood up and looked at the far city of Osgiliath. None dared to ride there, for it was taken.
“I once told my brother that the sun rises
and sets everyday, be there war, or not. And the moon shines brighter
with each passing night.” He turned back to look at Éowyn. “It is
somewhat the same with you, my Lady. You come into the gardens every
day, knowing very well that I’ll be here. And you shine brighter every
time I see you. Why, if you do not love me, do you come out here
everyday.”
“I come out here everyday because I need
somewhere to sit in the fresh air, I need to clear my thoughts out
here. I am allowed to come out here. But my Lord, if you feel that I
ignore you everyday, then why do you still speak to me?”
“Because you always speak back.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“I do not care if you say something wise, or
something to tell me to go away. I just feel it is a gift to hear your
voice. You speak with passion. And I feel that you love me a little,
but not a lot, for you love another.”
“I do not understand.”
“My Lady, of course you understand. You know
of whom I speak. You love the Lord Aragorn. Be it that he loves
another, you still wish that he loved you. You walk to the walls
everyday to watch for him. And then you sit down until the warden asks
you if you would like to eat anything.”
“How do you know of all I do everyday?”
“Because, my Lady, when you are I love, you notice everything.”
Faramir sat down again and gazed at Éowyn.
Her beauty now seemed stirred, her face had turned pale and she was
looking down at her hands. Faramir saw a tear drop fall into her hands.
He sighed, he had not meant to hurt her.
“Please do not cry, on the account of me.”
She looked back up at him. Her face now
turning slightly red from her crying. “But my Lord, you were right. I
look for a vision of something that there is no hope of ever having.
And you sit here and claim that you love me, you are then, also,
looking for a vision.”
“A vision. It is not a vision if what you
desire, what you love, what makes you happy is right in front of you.
My Lady, Aragorn is not ever going to be for you. But you have your own
decision to make. You can choose to love someone who will love you for
the rest of his life, or you can long for a vision of something
unrealistic. It is your choice. If you did choose me, I would wonder if
it was out of love, or pity for someone who has only ever wished to be
loved. And if you do not choose me, then you must know that I will
always love you.”
Éowyn let some more tears flow down her face.
She walked to the wall and looked down, still no sign that they were
returning yet. She wiped away a tear, then looked back at Faramir. “Now
you have caused me to ask myself those very questions. Why do I keep
coming out here everyday? And now I know, I must have some feeling for
you. For I talk to you even though I try to be silent and wait for
their return. Your face is gentle beyond words. You smile at me every
morning, and you make conversation. I could easily ignore it, but I
don’t. My Lord, I must love you.” She turned away from him and looked
out across the fields once more...
‘And he took her in his arms and kissed
her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon
the walls in the sight of many. And many indeed saw them and the light
that shone about them as they came down from the walls and went hand in
hand to the Houses of Healing.’ - The Return of the King - The Steward
and the King
