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Khorazîr
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Posted: Tue 09 Aug , 2005 10:40 am
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Faramir swallowed as he glanced at her. She looked glorious indeed. Of a sudden he felt nervous, not knowing if his condition would allow him to advance much further than this exchange of kisses and gentle touches. It was obvious she wanted more, and so did he, yet he was unsure if he would manage to perform accordingly.

“She very much exceeds my expectations,” he admitted softly, his voice slightly hoarse. “But I fear she will have to be patient with –” She did not let him finish his sentence and speak to her of his anxiety. Her lips caught his in another kiss, and as he felt her hands wander down his sides and undo the laces of his underpants, he quickly forgot what concerns he had harboured.


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Tue 09 Aug , 2005 6:24 pm
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Éowyn laughed deep inside as he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him again. The new intensity in his kisses and touches pleased her, as did the feel of his skin against hers. She had longed for these moments for many months, and she had determined to put a stop to any of his talk of being unfit before he had time to convince himself that he truly was.

Soon they were lost in the heat and desire of their marriage-bed, the long absence making the union that much sweeter. Later, after their pleasure and passion fully spent, they lay together quietly, arms and legs still entwined, simply enjoying the other’s company and nearness. Éowyn lay in the crook of Faramir’s arm, feeling fully contented now that their reunion was complete.

She looked up to see that Faramir appeared to be asleep. His eyes were closed, and his features plainly showed the weariness he carried. For a moment she felt a twinge of guilt that she had asked so much of him when he was still recovering from such an arduous experience, but then he opened his eyes, and the warmth and love she saw in them erased her doubts. She knew he had enjoyed this as much as she had.

Lifting her head slightly, she kissed him gently, thanking him for the pleasure he had given her. “I love you,” she murmured, reaching up to run a hand along his cheek.

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Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Wed 10 Aug , 2005 6:41 pm
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Shifting his position carefully to prevent his arm from falling asleep, and to be able to caress her cheek and neck gently, he gave her a warm smile. “And I love you,” he told her softly, yet knowing that these words were utterly inappropriate to convey his emotions in this moment, and to describe what he truly felt for her. He could not recall when last he had been this happy and content. Certainly, he was entirely spent, but it was a pleasant kind of weariness. His shoulder and the numerous wounds hurt more than before now, nevertheless he was deeply grateful for her persuasion and persistance. Both of them had sorely needed this exchange of love, tenderness and passion after the ordeal of the past months.

He felt his exhaustion begin to overwhelm him, helped along by the the familiarity of the surroundings: the warmth of her body close to his, her scent, her hair tickling his neck, the feel of her heartbeat, her quiet, steady breathing. Finally, finally he was home where he belonged. Here he could fall asleep safely, without fear of pain or pursuit or capture.

“Thank you, melda,” he whispered, kissing her brow. Then with a sigh he rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, and moments later sleep had taken him.


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Wed 17 Aug , 2005 4:08 pm
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Éowyn watched him for several more minutes after he had fallen asleep. He was fully relaxed now and looked rather peaceful despite the lingering evidences of his hardships. But those would fade with time, she reminded herself, especially now that he was surrounded by the people he loved and the comforts of home. Carefully, she reached over, tugged the blanket closer to his injured shoulder, and gently tucked it under his arm. Then, with a sigh, she snuggled close to him and soon found herself asleep as well.


Sometime later, Éowyn woke suddenly. The shadows had changed some, she saw, but she did not feel as though she had slept very long. Faramir had not moved a bit in his sleep, she noticed. It was a wonderful feeling to wake up and find him next to her again, she thought. She lay quietly for a few moments, trying to figure out what had woken her, when she heard one of her babies cooing in the other room. She knew that if the twins were awake, Elboron was likely awake as well elsewhere.

She felt a tug on the blanket that hung down the side of the bed, and a moment later the cat appeared over the edge. “Hello Berúthiel,” she said quietly as the cat climbed over her hip and settled into the little gap between her and Faramir. Purring contentedly, the cat immediately lifted her front leg and began washing herself. “It does not take you long to return to your ways,” Éowyn observed, reaching down to stroke the cat’s head lightly. The cat rolled onto her back and swatted at Éowyn’s hand. “Be nice,” she chided the animal, drawing her hand back.

In the nursery, the coos turned to cries for attention now that both boys were awake and done entertaining themselves. Éowyn slipped out of bed and dressed quickly. She debated whether to wake Faramir, but soon decided to let him sleep. He sorely needed this rest. She brushed a kiss over his lips before going to the nursery. “Did you two have a good nap?” she asked her little ones as they grinned when they saw her. “Your Dadi is still taking his, so we will have to be quiet for awhile,” she continued. “But once he is awake you can talk and play with him as much as you want to.” She smiled as Meriadoc caught her finger and gripped it tightly.

After seeing to their needs, she tossed a blanket over her shoulder and took them to a sitting room a few doors down the corridor. There she found Elboron and Rían building towers with some of his wooden blocks. With help from Rian, Eowyn soon had her other two children playing on the floor as well. Elboron squealed when his block-tower fell over suddenly, then laughed and scooted around to collect the pieces. “How long has he been awake?” Eowyn asked.

“Not very long,” Rian replied. “He wanted to go see the horses immediately, but when he found out you and his father were still asleep, he agreed to play inside instead.”

“Where Dadi?” Elboron asked suddenly, as if only now realizing that just his mother had entered.

“He is still taking his nap,” Éowyn told him. “He was very—”

“Go horses,” Elboron interrupted with a concerned expression.

Éowyn smiled patiently. “You will get to see the horses,” she said. “But your Dadi is very tired and needs a long nap before he is ready to see them. I will make sure that he takes you to see them once he is awake, all right?”

Elboron seemed to weigh her words in his mind and then decide that her answer was satisfactory, for he returned to playing with his blocks, this time making a paddock for Horsey to run around in.

“Would you like something for lunch?” Rían asked.

Éowyn hesitated. “I am a little hungry,” she admitted, “but I do not know how much longer Faramir will sleep, and I would like him to eat again before supper.” She paused, thinking. “Go inform the kitchens anyway. If he does not wake in time, we can always save some for him.”

Soon after Rían left with her task, Túrin stuck his head around the doorframe. “Aha! We found them, Voro,” he said. From his perch in his father’s arms, Vorondil peered around the edge, grinned, and then hid his face in Túrin’s tunic.

“When did you become shy?” Éowyn asked as Túrin brought him in and set him down on the floor with the rest of them. Éowyn reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair. “With the parents you have, I think it may be impossible for you to be shy.” He giggled and started crawling toward where Elboron was playing. Meanwhile, Túrin had lowered himself to the floor as well.

“You look much happier now,” Túrin said quietly after a few moments.

Éowyn flushed slightly. “I am,” she replied just as quietly and with a smile. “Last night I could not even dream that he was home, and now here he is, asleep and recovering his strength only a few doors away.” She shook her head slightly. “Happy does not begin to describe how I feel.”

Hearing footsteps in the corridor, they both looked up to see Visilya walk in. “I heard you were in here,” she said, moving a nearby chair to sit behind Túrin. She continued speaking while she began rubbing his shoulders lightly. “I take it Faramir is still sleeping?” she asked. At Éowyn’s nod, she said, “That is best for now, I suppose. He definitely looked like he could use some sleep when he was out on the terrace.”

“Sleep sounds good,” Túrin murmured, his head rolled forward as he enjoyed his wife’s massage.

“You have done nothing today to make you tired,” Visilya accused.

Éowyn chuckled at the pair’s bickering, then lifted Meriadoc into her lap and smoothed some stray strands of his hair. Peregrin was busy playing with his feet and sneaking glances at Túrin. Meanwhile, Vorondil was helping Elboron build a fence, or rather, he was examining the building materials carefully. “I think Elboron will miss Voro once he goes home,” Éowyn commented, watching the boys play with the blocks.

“They have made great playmates,” Visilya agreed. “But it will not be long before the twins are old enough to play like that. Voro only has himself at home.”

“Then we shall have to visit soon after you go back,” Éowyn said. “It has been a long time since we were all there. I doubt Elboron even remembers his last visit.”

_________________

Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Sun 21 Aug , 2005 7:21 pm
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When Faramir woke from a deep, dreamless sleep and opened his eyes to behold familiar surroundings, his first thought was that the sleep had not been dreamless at all. Had he not just woken from weird dream in which he had been captured by his worst enemy, and had been kept away from home and the people he loved by cruel devices, facing death and torment for months? He stretched carefully, felt a sting in his right shoulder, and knew that the past time had been no mere nightmare, but dark reality. And yet here he was, back where he belonged. All had ended well, and this knowledge filled him with warmth and utter relief.

Turning his head to where Éowyn had lain, he found that she was gone. Instead his eyes met the yellow ones of Berúthiel who lay curled up tightly on Éowyn’s pillow. Apparently his stirs had woken her. She lifted her head, gave him a lazy glance, then yawned and stood up, stretched, and lay down again. He smiled, and extracting his hale arm from under the blanket, reached out to stroke the cat’s head. Berúthiel rolled onto her back purring and allowed him to stroke her throat and belly as well.

“It almost looks as if you missed me,” he remarked softly, smiling, “even though of course you would never admit it.”

Berúthiel rubbed her head against his arm, then suddenly got interested in something moving outside the window, rolled to her feet and sat up stiffly, flicking her tail and making excited noises. Faramir let his gaze followed her intend stare, and realised she had espied a squirrel in the branches of the blood-beech.

“How unfortunate the creature is playing outside, eh?” he commented mischievously. “You will have to give me a few days until my shoulder is healed again before you may bring any gifts into the house for me to catch.”

The squirrel vanished from view, and after a while Berúthiel lost interest and curled up on the pillow again. Faramir lay back again, watching leaf-shadows play on the wall and the curtains of the bed. He was not sure how long he had slept. Not very long, he reckoned. Even though he felt somewhat rested, he knew he could do with more sleep. On the other hand he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Éowyn and the children, and their friends who he still owed an account of his rescue. If he allowed himself to fall asleep again now, it was likely he would not wake again before the next morning. And he was hungry. He had been so before he had fallen asleep, and the few bites he had taken with Elboron had helped little to alleviate his hunger.

He wondered whither Éowyn had gone, but reckoned she was looking after the children. Since he could not hear any sounds from the nursery, it was likely she had taken the twins over to Elboron’s room so as not to disturb his rest. Faramir stretched again, then carefully sat up. Berúthiel gave him a disapproving glance, but did neither move nor complain when he slid out of the bed and began to search together his clothing. On the way to the chest where his shirts and other underwear were being stored, he passed a mirror and halted, seeing his reflection for the first time in many days.

No wonder Éowyn had disapproved of his state. He recalled how Boromir had often encouraged him to eat more because he had been worried by his little brother’s leanness, especially when Faramir had returned from a long sojourn in Ithilien. What would you say now, brother? he thought with a wry smile. Strangely, though, he did not feel quite as weak and starved as he looked, not anymore, and he knew that in the days to come, with proper food and good care, his condition would improve quickly. Or at least improve it should. He was still not sure what damages the poison might have caused. That he did not feel any negative aspects now did not mean the venom had left no traces. Teherin’s reaction had been all but encouraging. Hopefully he would know more once she had examined him properly.

Turning his back on the mirror, he continued to the chest. To his surprise, he found that many of his shirts were gone, especially those he liked especially and thus used to wear often. He wondered what had happened to them. Selecting one he usually only wore for festive occasions because of its elaborate embroidery, and fetching fresh underwear, he went over to the washing bowl. After he had washed, he faced the complicated task of dressing with one hand, cursing his injured shoulder more than once. Since getting into the shirt involved almost as much struggle as had been its removal, he decided to leave aside the tunic which promised to be even more troublesome. But even without he looked presentable, he decided, and thus he set out in search of his family.

Last edited by Khorazîr on Wed 12 Oct , 2005 7:46 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Sun 28 Aug , 2005 5:08 am
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Éowyn glanced up upon hearing the door creak behind her, as did Túrin and Visilya. As Faramir entered the room, Éowyn could not stop the smile from stretching across her face. He was home. It was a feeling she could never tire of, this joy at seeing him again. However, she could see that he was still weary, and that this brief rest had done only a little good.

"Dadi!" Elboron squealed as he scrambled to his feet and ran to his father, wrapping his arms around one of Faramir's legs. They chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Go horses now?" Elboron asked.

"Later," Éowyn assured him. "Your Dadi has just woken up from his nap, and I am sure he would like some lunch before he goes outside. He should be resting as it is," she added softly as Faramir carefully lowered himself to the floor.

_________________

Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Tue 30 Aug , 2005 7:58 pm
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“I am alright,” Faramir returned just as quietly, reaching out to lightly run his hand down her shoulder. “Just hungry.”

“That’s the Faramir I know,” Túrin who obviously had overheard their exchange remarked with a grin. “And lunch does sound like a good idea, doesn’t it? I could do with some nourishment as well.”

“Right, after all the hard work you had to endure this morning,” Visilya remarked dryly.

“Well, I carried your son around for most of the time, and that has become hard work lately,” Túrin defended himself, then squirmed when his wife jabbed her fingers into his side.

“He has grown a lot indeed,” Faramir said, watching Vorondil pick up one of the wooden blocks from Elboron’s fence, study it intently, then bite into it. “And it looks he also is in favour of lunch.”

“You still owe us an account of how you got here,” Túrin reminded his friend as he leaned forward to take the block from his son. “While you had your nap Azrahil and Éomer came over and we exchanged some theories, but I reckon the truth is even more spectacular.”

“I shall tell you over lunch,” Faramir promised, “although it astounds me that the rangers have not recounted the tale thrice over already.”

Túrin laughed. “In three different versions, you mean?”

Faramir laughed as well. “At least.”

Footsteps on the corridor made them all look up. A servant appeared, announcing that lunch was being served downstairs and that a number of guests had already assembled there.

“Excellent timing,” Túrin said, stretching, and getting to his feet. “By the way,” he added with a grin as he watched Faramir rise as well (with Éowyn’s help), “there was no need for you to dress up like this, you know.” He indicated the shirt.

“Perhaps I felt like it,” Faramir returned smugly, but then shrugged. “Well, fact is that my other, plainer shirts are gone.”

Túrin came over and clapped his hale shoulder, putting on a mock grave expression. “Yeah, well, you see, because of your chaotic management of this fief it ran into some dire financial straits during your absence, and thus we had to sell some of your stuff to settle the debts.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Faramir said, nodding gravely, but noting how Éowyn had blushed.

“What did happen to them?” he asked her softly as both bent down to see to the babies.


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Fri 02 Sep , 2005 3:00 am
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Éowyn glanced up at Túrin and Visilya to find them talking with one another, then replied softly. “I have been wearing them to bed under my own nightclothes. I missed your touch and scent at night, so I began wearing them because your scent lingered in the cloth, and I could at least imagine you were that close to me.” While she spoke, she helped Faramir pick up Peregrin and situate him in his arm.

“When the scent in one would fade,” she continued, “I wore another. I did not want them washed, because I knew that would make them completely lose the scent.” She blushed again, thinking that her words may have sounded silly, but a glance at the somber expression on Faramir’s face told her otherwise.

“I was running out of shirts to wear, too,” she said, lifting Meriadoc and resting him against her shoulder. “The one I wore last night was the last of the ones that smelled strongest of you, and even that one had faded completely.”

Last edited by Lady_of_Rohan on Mon 05 Sep , 2005 8:13 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Mon 05 Sep , 2005 7:25 am
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Faramir swallowed slightly for her words had touched him deeply, reminding him once more of the fact how difficult his abduction had been for her. Also he remember how often during his captivity he had felt lonely, especially when something had reminded him of Éowyn and the children, or of home in general.

As they both stood again, each with a baby in arm, he leaned to her and kissed her gently. “I often wished I had something of yours to remind me more strongly of you,” he admitted softly. “There were your letters, and certainly they helped me over the worst bouts of loneliness, but they were of little help at night when the light had failed and it was too dark to read. But as for my shirts, I think you can safely return them now,” he went on in a lighter tone, smiling now. “I do not intend to leave again any time soon, so when you long for my scent or touch just say so.”

With that he kissed her again swiftly, before shifting his attention to Peregrin who had grabbed a fold of his shirt and was tugging at it vigorously.

“Are you coming?” Túrin called from the door. “Elboron has already run ahead to look for his uncle, but Visilya is with him to take care that he doesn’t fall down the stairs.”


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Fri 09 Sep , 2005 2:59 am
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"I will be sure to do so," Éowyn assured him as Túrin called. "So Visilya is after him? Good," she said, turning to their friend, "this will give her some practice for when Voro is on the move, which should not be long now." She reached over to tickle the boy's cheek. "Well, not if your dadi continues carrying you around all the time," she teased.

"Tell her you are not big enough yet for that," Túrin told his son.

With a laugh, Éowyn lightly ruffled Voro's hair and started down the hallway with Túrin and Faramir quickly following. When they came to the staircase, they saw that Visilya and Elboron had just reached the bottom step. The pair waited until the others had joined them, and together they made their way to the dining room.

They had not gone far before the delicious scents from the kitchen drifted toward them. Obviously the cook was determined to keep her promise of preparing excellent food for the newly-returned Steward.

_________________

Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Tue 13 Sep , 2005 8:24 pm
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The delicious smell wafting towards them from the kitchen and the dining room made Faramir realise how hungry he really was, and unconsciously he increased his pace. He knew that he still had to be careful with what and how much he ate, nevertheless he was thoroughly looking forward to the meal.

Elboron had run ahead, with Visilya hastening to keep up. Upon entering the dining room Faramir saw that his firstborn was perched on his uncle’s arm. Éomer was standing near the window which overlooked the garden. Azrahil was there as well. Apparently the two had been talking to each other before Elboron had claimed his uncle’s attention. Faramir was pleased to see that seemingly Éomer was making an effort to overcome his distrust of the young Umbarian. Azrahil was looking much more at ease, despite still cutting a somewhat awkward figure in his Gondorian attire.

Other than the two men Faramir espied several people scattered about the room, obviously waiting for them to arrive, while servants were busy loading the table with food. Beregond, Mablung and a number of people with more or less important positions at Dol Arandur interrupted their agitated discussion when Faramir entered – he surmised they had been talking about him –, while half-hidden in a corner Teherin was still immersed in deep conversation with Rían, with neither noticing the arrival of the hosts. Again there was no sign of Lordel, but Faramir had not expected to see him at lunch. Éowyn had described how the Noldo preferred to keep to himself, would show up unexpectedly of a sudden, and vanish again without a word on some secret business of his own. Nevertheless Faramir hoped to meet him soon, to thank him for his help.

Before Faramir was able to address any of the others, the cook who had overlooked the setting of the table personally came over to him, looking up at him expectantly. “I hope everything is to your satisfaction, lord,” she said a little nervously, indicating the table where a meal that surely would suffice for an entire company had been arranged.

Faramir slightly shifted the baby in his arm who was eyeing the white scarf the cook wore over her hair interestedly, and gave her a smile. “It looks and smells most excellent, and I cannot help marvelling how you managed to conjour it up in such a short time. Thank you, and please convey my thanks also to your staff. Do not drive them too hard, lest they curse the day of my return.”

“I shan’t, lord,” she assured him, “and they won’t. Everybody is so glad you are back. Oh, and do try the soup!” Beaming, she curtsied and left.

“More soup,” Faramir muttered.

“What’s wrong with that?” Túrin asked, stooping to set down his son so that Vorondil could walk over to were Visilya was waiting for him.

“Nothing, but the past days I have been living on hardly anything else,” Faramir replied. Even though during the days ensuing his rescue he had been provided with decent food again at last, these meals had mostly consisted of soup and other mild fare that had been considered appropriate to restore his strength while not aggravating his stomach.

Túrin looked him up and down. “By your looks they gave you little more than a spoon full a day,” he remarked.

Faramir smiled faintly and shook his head. “I can assure you the King and Imrahil were much more generous. But while I was still guest on Al-Jahmîr’s ship they did not waste much food on me, and before that I spent about a fortnight on Tolfalas and only ate what I found along the coast.”

“I hope you are not going to withhold your account from us much longer,” Éomer who had overheard the conversation and together with Elboron and Azrahil had come over. “Even though he tries to hide it, your Umbarian friend here is quite anxious to hear how you managed to escape his uncle, and what happened to the snake.”

Azrahil blushed slightly at this, and gave the Rohir a quick fierce glance.

“Naturally he would be anxious,” Faramir said. “Fact is so am I when it comes to his uncle’s fate, for of this I cannot tell much as yet. Only when Elessar sends word we will know more. But do take seats, and I shall no longer withhold my tale from you – although I fear you will have to do with the short version for today, because I have promised a certain young man here that I would go and visit the horses with him later – and perhaps your lion as well, Azrahil, if you do not mind.”

At the mention of horses Elboron who had been entertaining his little brother looked up and beamed. Azrahil looked pleased as well. “I do not mind at all,” he said as they went over to the table.


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Khorazîr
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Posted: Thu 22 Sep , 2005 8:11 am
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“Good,” Faramir replied. They had reached the table. A chair had been drawn up for him, but he found it difficult to sit down with the baby in one arm and without the use of his other. ”I hope you do not mind taking Peregrin for a moment, until I am seated?” he thus asked Azrahil who stood closest.

The young man looked thoroughly surprised at this, as did Éomer, who frowned slightly as if disapproving of the idea. “I am not very good with children,” Azrahil muttered, well aware of the Rohir‘s dark glance upon him, while uneasily regarding the baby who was watching him with interest.

“Nonsense,” Faramir encouraged him.

“I shall take him,” Éomer announced. “Come one, down you go, Elboron. Look, your mami is waiting for you over there with Visilya and Vorondil and the two ladies.”

But Faramir shook his head slightly. His brother-in-law gave him another doubtful expression, but obviously understood that the other had his reasons and so refrained from uttering protest. Stepping back a little, he crossed his arms in front of him, his eyes resting on Azrahil sternly, only to increase the other’s unease.

“Stop worrying too much about what you believe the others may or may not think of you,” Faramir told the young Umbarian softly, thinking he knew the reason for Azrahil’s reluctance. “You are here as my guest, and if I trust you with my children, this should be enough for you, whatever the others say.”

Azrahil bit his lip and nodded. Bracing himself, he stepped forward and with extreme care took the baby from Faramir. Peregrin seemed to have noticed that he was the centre of attention now. He glanced round, cooed, then looked up at Azrahil who returned his gaze with an unreadable expression.

“‘Tis not that horrible, is it?” Faramir asked him, smiling, as finally he sat down.

Azrahil shook his head. “He is quite heavy,” he remarked, then suddenly laughed softly because Peregrin had caught a strand of his hair and was pulling on it. “And strong.”

“Yes, Éowyn has taken good care of him and his brothers,” Faramir said and took the baby back, giving her a loving glance as she was coming over to sit down next to him, with Elboron trailing after her. Azrahil took a seat a little further down the table, next to Túrin.

When finally all were settled and he was about to encourage them to start with the meal, Faramir recalled something he had not exercised during his captivity. With the baby on his lap it was impossible for him to rise with the others, but he, too, turned towards the window to face west in silence for a moment. This simple custom made him feel even more at home again, and gave him the odd notion that after months in some wild, barbaric company he had finally returned to civilisation where things were orderly and peaceful.

“Soup, my lord?” The serving girl’s question stirred him out of his reveries.

“Sure,” Éomer who sat on the other side of him answered for him with a grin, handing her Faramir’s bowl. “And plenty of it, please. He needs it.”


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Fri 07 Oct , 2005 2:43 am
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Éowyn slipped back into her seat beside Faramir and helped Elboron onto the chair next to her. He sat on an over-stuffed pillow that let him reach his plate on the table. “I will look after him,â€

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Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Tue 11 Oct , 2005 7:50 pm
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“I have a faint idea, yes,â€


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Sun 30 Oct , 2005 11:35 pm
A maiden young and sad
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Éowyn listened to Faramir's story in silence, her emotions ebbing and rising with each new detail. His account of his treatment on the ship, and Falastur's subsequent appearance, stirred her anger. This anger was somewhat soothed by reminding herself that her husband was free from such troubles and sitting next to her, but the account would continue, and the pattern repeated. She had her own choice words for Falastur, which she felt no qualms about directing at him, if ever given the opportunity.

But all of this anger was tiring. She stroked Meriadoc's hair softly while he played with the napkin. Wouldn't it have been better to let the story rest for a day? However, she had to admit that she was just as curious about what had happened as the others. And, sooner or later, the story would have had to been told. She shook her head when Faramir told of the duel. She understood his motivation. What else could he have done? Yet it had also been foolish of him to try such an attack in his condition. He was lucky things hadn't turned out worse.

She felt his gaze on her most of the time, and for awhile her eyes met with his. As he spoke of falling into the water, she looked away, reminded again of how close she had come to losing him, just one of many times throughout the ordeal. Now she felt her anger direct itself toward him. She wanted to yell at him for making such a foolish decision. What if the king's men hadn't gotten to him in time? What if Al-Jahmîr's archers had shot him while he was disoriented? At least he had not had to worry about
drowning on the ship! But if he hadn't jumped, he could have been on there still, her more reasonable side said, instead of sitting here with you or playing with his children.

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Khorazîr
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Posted: Wed 02 Nov , 2005 9:15 pm
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A short, stunned silence followed Faramir’s talk. Looking at Éowyn, he noticed anger flare up in her eyes and then subside again. No wonder she feels that way, he thought. The more he thought about it and recounted the tale, the more his dive overboard sounded like complete folly. So much could have gone amiss, and he knew that Éowyn was considering each of the possibilities.

The others seemed torn between shock and admiration. Beregond was shaking his head, entirely disapproving of his lord’s actions. Teherin’s expression was grim, and Rían looked positively shocked. Túrin, Éomer and Visilya, however, seemed rather impressed. Faramir was quite certain that at least the Rohir considered his decision to leave his enemy’s ship this way the only possible – although most likely he would not admit it to his sister. After all, for the Rohirrim to die fighting meant to die honourably. They had the reputation of maintaining a rather fatalistic attitude to these matters.

A similar same notion of honour Azrahil had grown up with, and he was the one who appeared to thoroughly approve of Faramir’s challenge and daring escape, albeit he, too, was reluctant to voice this opinion openly. Nevertheless his dark eyes shone with excitement when Faramir described the fight in detail.

As usual, Túrin was the first to regain his voice. “From all I’ve heard of the snake so far, it’s hard to imagine him doing any real fighting himself. I mean, usually he’s got people for that, hasn’t he.â€


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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Mon 23 Jan , 2006 4:39 am
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Éowyn sighed as she studied his face. There was indeed remorse there, and for a few moments she was satisfied, but then she began wondering if he really needed to apologize. Would she have rather had him stay on that cursed ship? Of course not! If he had not leapt, the chance was there that he may not have even been sitting here now. Yes, the risk was large, but the reward was greater.

“No,â€

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Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

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Khorazîr
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Posted: Mon 23 Jan , 2006 7:01 pm
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“Some would call it rather reckless, however,â€

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Lady_of_Rohan
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Posted: Fri 03 Feb , 2006 3:49 am
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"I would," Éowyn said, rising and giving Meriadoc to Rían. "I remember she did not look very pleased when she first met you in the garden." Seeing that her children were taken care of, she slipped her arm around Faramir's waist and walked with him to their chambers. Along the way, they spoke with the few servants who had been unable to make it out to the garden to greet their lord and welcome him home.

She smiled to herself, delighting in the feel of his arm around her again. She could tell that much of his former strength had been depleted, but he still carried enough to reassure her that he would regain it. “It is good to have you home,â€

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Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

Sweet home Indiana
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Khorazîr
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Posted: Fri 03 Feb , 2006 7:53 pm
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Faramir sighed, but nodded at her words. There was no use trying to argue with Teherin, although the prospect of having to wear both bandage and sling for several more days was not at all to his liking. It would make even minor tasks as dressing difficult, if not impossible without help.

Having rummaged in her bag, the healer returned, handing a small jar to Éowyn. It contained a paste smelling faintly of arnica, and other herbs Faramir did not recognise. “Apply this to the shoulder twice a day. It will help reduce the bruising and ease the pain. By the looks of the bandages, you were treated with something similar on the ship.â€

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