Author's note: The first part of this chapter takes place about three weeks after the final events of the last one

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During the days of harvest most men would be found working in the fields, their other crafts forgotten for a time so that they might assure the safe gathering of all crops before the fall of summer rains could bring them any harm; such had been the habit of the land in Gondor for many long years, and so it was again within the realm of Ithilien. And, for this reason, most other works beside the garnering of crops had for a time been paused in the lands of the fair-forests, from the new settlements that would be made ready to house those new to come, to the manor-house of their lord, which would be raised in all before the coming year was ended. And so it was that even as the Lord Faramir’s duties grew, his lady’s work diminished.

For a time, the ordering of the household alone was left to her, but Éowyn minded not the idle time she had, for she knew that it would last but little; and the days were fair and bright, and she took joy from them. A sense of peace had come upon her in the fortnight past, and such calm that she had never known before. From the morning when she had first woken to find her husband still sleeping by her side – nay, even from the night before – she had begun to known her heart; with every day that passed she knew it more, and she fled not from it, nor feared that which it held, but welcomed it instead – and it was from there that her peace now flowed.  

Content she had been for some time; now there was gladness in her heart. Her life was settled, her tasks were worthy, and she knew that she had turned to Faramir at last. For she would walk into his study when he paused from his work, only to speak to him and sit beside him, to hear his words and see his face. And she would smile to see her husband, and he would smile in kind; and their hearts would lift and their hours would brighten, and all was well. In the mornings she would watch him sleep, and see the same calm dwell within him; and she would wish to settle closer in his arms, or trace his features with the tips of her fingers – highness of brow, paleness of cheek, softness of mouth. Yet she would never do so; and she would wonder at such whims, for they were new and foreign to her.

At times she wondered at her feelings also – how softly they had come, how right they seemed. And she was glad to have them, and heartened to know them well returned – aye, they were so, she saw it in his eyes when they brightened, heard it in his flowing voice, felt it in the warm touch of his hand to hers; there was no longer doubt, there was no longer wavering – alone, words that would bind them remained to be said, but they both bade their time to speak.

And so, the days had passed, the harvest had come to an end, its reckoning as well; and now Faramir was bound to make for Minas Tirith to do his duty to his lord and land. Even now he waited in his study, and standing before his desk with his back to the doorway he gathered what papers he would need in the White City. And as Éowyn watched him from the corridor the thought struck her that from their wedding to this day they had never been parted, and she had never watched him leave. And, thinking this, she entered his study, her gaze held fast upon him, her steps soft.

“You are nigh ready,” she said as she came by his side; and she expected him to turn towards her startled, his eyes alight as they would often be when he looked upon her. Yet he was not startled when he spoke, although his eyes were bright indeed.

“Aye,” he said, “I was told Amrod, Garadh and I could set out in no more than a mark.”

“Aye…” Éowyn answered, and as a breath of sadness stirred within her she was silent for a while. Then with an unsought thought to spur her question she asked him in a lighter voice:

“My lord… Faramir…” she began, and smiled as he smiled at the sound of his name, “how is it that you knew my steps so easily? For it seemed to me they were not loud, yet I see now that you heard them still.”

“For one,” he answered, “I have learned them well; for another, I am trained to hear and know the steps of any man.”

“And to walk lightly,” she replied, “for though you may hear my steps I rarely hear your own, if ever.”

“Aye, that too,” said Faramir; “to walk and hear so are the makings of a Ranger, along with stealth and the use of the bow; and with the years it seemd this manner of walking has become my nature. Yet I daresay in these rooms I am not as silent as you make me out to be, and upon the City’s paths of stone such a man as the King could well hear me when coming from afar.”

“Could I?” she asked without a purpose.

“You could,” he said; “with proper teaching and long enough practice you could perhaps walk as silently and hear as well.”

“How would you teach me? How were you taught?”

“To walk in this manner, I was taught how to step and to hold my balance, how swiftly to move and how softly to turn. To hear so, I was taught to listen.”

“Listen? Surely you do not mean that there are different ways to do so.”

“Indeed, there are not; but there are different things to listen to, and it takes some skill to set them apart and follow. If you would, I could show you what I mean even now, ere I depart.” And as he said this Faramir looked down upon her and knew that he would rue their parting; for their later days had been peaceful in their easiness, gladdened by some understanding and brightened by the sun, and to be apart now that the time was drawing near – near to what, he could bring himself not say – seemed a sudden wrench to him.

“Show me, then,” Éowyn said, and he smiled at her answer and came out of his thoughts. They would need some open space, he said to her then, although quiet enough that she would only hear his steps when he made them; and they went in search of such a room or chamber, and in the end it was his own that they settled upon. And as they walked towards it Faramir gave bidding to be summoned when all would be ready for his departure.

When they entered the chamber they saw it was well aired and lit by the morning sun, whose rays fell softly upon a writing table and the chair set before it; and they caught sight of the clear skies directly, for three narrow windows were opposite the door. To their right stretched many shelves of books, and across them was a covered bed, never slept in yet kept ever ready; facing it, the fireplace stood unused. Against the leftward wall there was a dresser of fairly carved wood, a bench and two other chairs beside it. Apart from this, the room was mostly bare, and there was much open space near to its middle. And Faramir closed the door behind them as his lady walked towards the windows, then walked to the dresser to fetch a piece of cloth.

“Two things I must now show you,” he said as he turned to her, “and this will serve as blindfold, and will be used for both. For the first, your eyes will be bound and your hearing will be tested; you must speak not, only listen to the silence awhile to use your ear to it. Then you must seek out my steps, and try to take hold of me as I pass you by – I shall be as silent as I can. For the second, I shall judge the lightness of your step; my eyes will then be bound, and you must walk by me so that I cannot hear you. Take a step only when you know where to place it, and do so slowly, but steadily, so that you do not waver; walk as a cat would – keep yourself well balanced, your weight on one foot at a time as you move.”

“This seems to me a children’s game,” Éowyn said, to him; and a sudden thought came to her mind, of their own children, and if they would play such a game with them – and a great wonder and relief coursed her to know that she would indeed wish for his children, and care for them, and love them dearly, as she would the family they would then make together.

“Aye, you might see it thus, if you will,” said Faramir, and for the lightness in his voice she paused her thoughts, though her smile lessened not; “it is a game, then. And as part of such game, once you do catch me you must also guess which way I am facing.”

“But surely if I have hold of you I would know this from the start? I would have no need to guess.”

“Do you think so? Take hold of my sleeve, then, closer to its hem. Now, you see that I may face you,” he said, then turned his body, “or face well away, and your grasp does not change all that much.”

“It may be so, but what need would there be for this? Except, perhaps, to grab at one when my eyes are bound.”

“Aye, and to find your bearings when seeing little or naught; and your eyes need not be bound for that, a darkened room or the hour of midnight on a moonless, starless night would do quite the same. And if you had to grasp at one, then strike to save yourself, you would need to know without much thought where the chest would be, at what height the heart, where to grasp the neck, where to strike the middle.

“In truth, such a purpose was not imagined from the start – that the rangers would not be seen or heard, these alone mattered; and, as a test for how silently a man could walk and how fine a hearing another one had, this game was made. Yet, with the years, the skills of the ‘blinded’ were made better as well, and their benefits understood; and these days they are entered into the training, be they still of lesser import.”

“Blind me, then,” she said, “and see if I can hear you.”

And Faramir reached out to fasten the cloth around her eyes. And he wondered that they should play such a game on the eve of his departure, and that she would so easily accept to have her eyes bound with him so near, even in this very chamber; and he was heartened for it, for such trust, he knew, was the very best of signs. Then when the knot was tied he placed his hands upon her shoulders, and, after a moment more, he moved away to reach the barren wall behind him. From the distance he watched her, her head bent to one side as she strained to hear, her hands held ready at her side, her fingers spread. Sheathes of light fell upon her, for she stood before the windows, and her tresses glinted golden from them, and the cream coloured skirts of her gown melded soft shadows with light gleaming folds. And she was beautiful.

And for a time he was bound to his place, for there before him stood Éowyn Shield-Arm, the Lady of Ithilien, in strength and grace – and he loved her; and gazing upon her now, and thinking of their days together, he felt and thought the feeling was returned. And for this sudden knowledge, till now perceived but kept hidden somehow, Faramir would have walked to her to take her in his arms and press his lips to hers, to remain by her side and no longer part from her. But there had been no proper words spoken between them, and he felt they were needed before any such shows of love. Nigh three months had passed since their vows had been spoken – but they had not been meant and so, were empty; and even as he would were they not wed, Faramir wished they would speak of their hearts before all else – for to rush the beginning when for so long a time they both had watched and waited did not seem right to him.

And so, he reigned his thoughts once more, though his heart remained light and lifted; and as he walked around her softly, meaning to near her from behind, he let the game begin.

In walking he made little sound, and, now and then, her head would turn to hear it. But in the end he came upon her, and she took little notice of it. And he watched her for a moment more, how she drew her breath so lightly that her chest barely moved; then, with a smile upon his lips, he leaned towards her and blew a light breath of his own upon her skin. And she whirled towards him swiftly, her hair and skirts flowing in waves, and, with a gasp, she reached out to grab his arms; but he moved away in haste and her hands did not touch him.

So Éowyn straightened, and strained to listen once again; and, as her eyes were bound she knew not that Faramir was standing only three steps before her, and that his eyes were laughing. Two more such breaths of air she felt upon her skin, each time a shiver passing through her; and on the third she reached out just so that she managed to grasp her husband’s sleeve. Then as she took hold of his left arm with her other hand she let out a laugh both merry and proud. And it struck her as she stood there that she would no longer see him for seven days or more, no longer hear his voice, nor feel him at her side in sleep; and she knew she would miss him sorely. And for that thought her fingers twisted in the silk of his shirt, as if afraid that he would slip from her grasp and move away once more.

“There… you are facing me,” said Éowyn; and she was saddened that their game would thus draw closer to its end, and he would leave her side before too long.

“I am,” Faramir answered, and watched her as he rarely had before, so close to her and she to him; and he took in her shape, her scent, her very being, as if to brand them to him memory for the long days to come when would not be near her.

“Were you not meant to remain silent?” she asked; and he said: “I was; but you have seized me now, and I may speak.” And they knew not that the words they spoke felt empty upon their ears, meant only to stall for time and little else.

“Seized?” she asked. “Then if you are the prisoner, and I the blinded man that seized you I should well know where to strike – middle, heart, curve of the neck.” And even as she spoke she felt a strange mood come upon her, bold and full of mischief, and she wondered whether it was because her eyes were bound and she could not see his own; but that thought was fleeting. And then the fingers of her left hand raised from about his wrist and trailed slowly up his arm to reach his shoulder; her other hand moved from his left arm and rested against his heart, and for a moment she merely stood and felt its beatings. Then her left hand moved once again and settled lightly about his neck; and she wondered what his thoughts might be, and wondered at her doings, but mostly at the beatings of her own heart, which she could feel steady and mounting.

Some moments passed, and Faramir neither spoke nor moved; and her hand rose up to his temple, then to the edge of his brow, lowering next to settle upon his cheek. And her touch was light, like to the softest breeze or smallest drops of rain; and he turned to it, and she felt his heart quicken. And for a time Faramir only stood before her, knowing not what had spurred her actions thus – perhaps his leaving, and she wised to remember him as well – but welcoming her touch and wary to move himself lest she would shy away. And before long the light touch turned to light caress, and Faramir’s breath lowered even as his heart skipped. But when her right hand reached his neck a shiver passed through him, and he raised his hands to hers and encircled her wrists.

And Éowyn started in turn, then came back to herself – for his touch was sudden, and his hands warm. And when he lowered hers down to his chest she felt the hurried beatings of his heart, and her breath nigh stopped in wonder. And for her deeds she dared not speak, and dared not move once more; and she fell still.

Then his hands left her and he took one step back; and she felt bereft without the feel of his body close by. But then she felt his hands fumble with the knot tied over her tresses, and with her hands still raised she stood like frozen; for she both wished to see and not to see his eyes, hear and not to hear his voice. But he unbound the cloth in slow and steady moves, saying nary a word; and just as he took it from upon her eyes he bound his own, so that neither of them could see the other in the eye just yet. For a moment he paused, then drew one step backwards, and then another; and Éowyn knew the game would begin anew.

And so it was, indeed. And soon enough Faramir caught his lady as she walked softly by, his fingers clinging at the folds of her skirt. And he expected she would turn away, but she stayed rooted to the spot instead, watching him with baited breath, and waiting. So his hands moved, rising slowly and lightly to rest about her middle, barely a touch at all; and before she knew it Éowyn moved closer to him. Then Faramir’s head lowered slightly and his hands moved to trail along her arms; with his fingers he traced the hem at her shoulders where bare skin began, but went no further. A moment passed, and then another; they both were still, and Faramir was waiting.

But then Éowyn raised a warm hand to his tunic, and she neither pushed away nor pulled in close, but simply let it rest upon his chest. And so, at length, his own hands came to her face, and he traced her brow and the edge of her cheeks, and brought his fingers to her chin. And even as he told himself once more that no words had passed between them, that it would not be proper, still he longed to press his lips to hers; for her skin was soft and her hair breathed of Ithilien, and he could feel no fear from her – only a wisp of expectation and some soft threads of desire, barely woven and barely known. And when he reached the corner of her lips he felt her mouth was parted, and his head lowered with a short gasp; and her hand tightened against his tunic, and her lids lowered and his head bent the more, and her breath hitched when she felt his own, light and heavy altogether, and warmer than his hands at the back of her neck. And she lost hold of herself, and her eyes closed, and her mouth lifted, and she waited – and he could feel her waiting.

And suddenly a knock came from outside, and a voice, deep and muffled, said: “My lord, we are set to depart…” And Faramir drew swiftly back, startled and stiff. And for a time they both stood breathless, he with his head bowed, she with her hand upon his arm; neither moved.

Then Faramir reached up to take away the cloth that bound his eyes and slowly raised his gaze to meet her own. And they looked long one at the other, and read in each other’s eyes longing and love, and joy, and all that which they could not say. For he was soon to leave, too soon for both their comfort, and little time remained to speak of such things, though they dearly wished to.

“My lord…!” the voice came once more then, and they both started for it.

“I come!” Faramir answered; and with his eyes intent upon his lady wife he thought of his return, when they would speak together and have their words make for a new beginning. But till then they would wait, and set an order to their hearts and thoughts; and they would think of the future lying before them now, and of their hopes returned. And with his heart brimming he smiled at her, and Éowyn smiled in kind, and there was sunshine in her eyes where she beheld him.

And then Faramir took one of her hands in his, and he walked slowly towards the door gazing upon her still. And hand in hand they made to where his horse was readied and the two other men were mounted. And in the view of all they stood silent one before the other, their hands clasped still; and Faramir leaned gently in and kissed her brow. Then he released her hand and mounted, and with a final look as his farewell he left for Minas Tirith.

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Three hours had passed since noon, yet still the sun shone warmly upon the walls of Minas Tirith. Here and there, its rays came down in sheer curtains of light as they broke through from between the clouds, and not few were the ones to look out at whiles and marvel at the beauty of such a sight. The Lord Faramir stood at the windows of his office, his gaze settled upon the sky as well; and he thought of Ithilien and the road home. Ten days had gone by much too slowly, but in the end his duties were fulfilled, and now he could depart.

It had been good to see once more Minas Tirith and her people, but within the City’s walls he had found little of the rest of old. His rooms had felt empty in the mornings and at night, his bed too large; and for the first time in many months he had not felt at ease to walk the halls of the Stewards.

His lady had been often in his thoughts, for many sights in the White City seemed to bring her image before him: a horse that caught his eye summoned the thought of the Lady of Rohan and her graceful bearing astride; white flags or banners would bring to mind her figure clothed in white, the paleness of her skin; the dark-haired ladies of the Court reminded him of golden tresses which glinted in the sun.

Too, he had given thought to his departure, and the little time before it. In the cool of the night and the bright light of morning, he remembered the feel of her body, the touch of her skin, her breath upon his lips before another’s voice had made them part; and he wished to have delayed the moment of his leaving for a time, if even for an hour – enough to speak to her that very day and know her heart for good, and share his own. Well could he imagine their words, how he would have taken her hands in his, how they would have sat together or stood together and listened to the other speak – how their eyes would have brightened and their hearts would have lifted and soared at the end. And he would wonder why he had left instead, saying not a word to her, having no words from her in return, only to find the answer a mere moment later, clear and unwavering: an hour, ten hours more – they would have brought too little time, and though he could not have brought himself to leave her side then, he had been bound to do so. To begin their days together by a parting of ten days or more had seemed unthinkable to him – better it had been to delay the beginning itself. And Éowyn had seemed to understand and think the same as him.

And now the days had passed at last, and once again Faramir waited to be summoned when all would be prepared for his departure; and he smiled at the thought that there was none now here to fill his time until that very moment came. Yet barely a quarter mark went by before he was proven wrong, for his Lord King entered his office with a deliberate shuffle of feet. And after they offered greeting his Lord said:

“Night will have fallen for many hours ere you reach the hills of Emyn Arnen and your home.”

“Aye, my Lord, that is so,” said Faramir; “yet I have spoke with my men – they also wish to depart this day. But, if I may ask, why do you say this? Is it that I no longer have your leave?”

“No, my Lord Steward, it was yours when you asked it of me this morning, and you have it still. But I would ask you now, as I did not at first – why this rush, for you could well leave with the dawn of the coming day? Does the City stifle or are you anxious to return?”

It seemed to Faramir then that the words of his King were perhaps meant to hold another meaning, and from his tone of voice he thought that he could glimpse it; and, after a little while, he said in the same manner:

“The City will ever be dear to me.”

A fleeting smile passed over the face of the King, and he gave a nod. Then looking still at Faramir, his eyes piercing and keen, he asked him in a lower voice:

“I have asked you this when you came before me not two weeks ago, and you gave me your answer then – but we were in company, and your words might have been hindered for it. So I would ask now again, my friend: how do you fare? And how fares your lady?”

“We are well, my Lord,” he answered, and thought to say no more; but in the eyes of his King a question lay unanswered, and he could feel worry in his heart, and unease as well. And Faramir said: “We are both well… and we are well together.” And he smiled in earnest for what was left unsaid, and held his gaze open for his Lord to search and understand. For though in any other matter Faramir would welcome his word and counsel, of this he would not speak with him; but still he would have his worries rest. And after a little while Aragorn smiled as well, and his eyes cleared and filled with joy.

“I am gladdened to hear it,” he said, and Faramir saw that he was heartened indeed.

And then King and Steward remained before the windows and watched the light of the sun glisten and shine; and they spoke for a time, of Gondor and Ithilien and of the years to come, until a man came to announce that all was ready, and Faramir took his leave. And so, he left that day for Emyn Arnen, making haste and good time. And he cared little for what his men or the people might think of such a flight, but wished only to be close to his lady once again, thought only of her sight, her voice, her touch. But even so the hours flew past him, and the night fell, and the moon and stars shone bright upon him ere he reached his home and her side.

And he knew not that his lady wife watched those very stars as she looked out from her window; for so she had done since the dusk had fallen and a messenger had come to say that the Lord Faramir would return that night.

From that moment on she had been anxious for a sign of him – but none had come; and now that the skies had darkened so that no sign could be perceived in the distance she waited for the time when her lord would come to her side, bringing with him the calm and peace that she had missed since his departure. For even with no proper care to cloud her days Éowyn had been restless and uneasy.

His absence she had felt most keenly, in the forests that had seemed plain to her, even with the many changing colours of the leaves and grass, in her barren room, in the cold and empty bed. Much too soon, it seemed, she had begun to miss the sight of him, the sound of his voice, the knowledge that she could have them both simply by walking to his office, the knowledge that he was near. And she had thought of him often, wondered how he fared, how his days passed – whether his dreams and sleep were restful; for hers had not been so.

In their days together she had grown accustomed to the weight of his body by her side at night, and without it she would for a long time twist and turn under the covers before settling at last; and when she started awake in the early hours of morning she had trouble in finding sleep once more. That very day she had awakened with the first changes wrought upon the sky before the dawn, though sleep had claimed her only after the hour of midnight the night before; and she had watched the sky outside the window for a little while, but then had turned away – for Faramir was not with her.

And now she sat by that very window and watched the sky once more, and she waited for her lord’s arrival; for they would speak then, and she would tell him of her love, and he would tell her of his heart, and their bright days would begin in earnest. Of this she thought as she tried to ward off sleep, but the hours passed one after the other, and in the end it claimed her, and Éowyn gave into dreams while thinking of his voice. And when she woke again, only moments later it seemed, she heard it close beside her through some haze, caring and warm.

For Faramir had come at last, and had rushed to her side, knowing the hour to be late, but hoping still that his lady would be awake and waiting. Upon entering their rooms he had found her sleeping, but his spirits had not lowered – instead, the very sight of her had warmed his heart, even as she sat before him by the window, with her slender arms resting upon raised knees and her long hair unbound and tangled along her shoulders. And he had neared her with slow steps, and had whispered her name while kneeling at her side, needing to say it and hear it once again.

“You are here, you have come…” she whispered then as he placed a kiss upon her brow, and she raised her hands to cling to him.

“Aye,” Faramir answered, “and now that I am come so too must you come away, to your rest… “

“Nay, but I wished to welcome you-“

“And in the morning so you shall, and we shall speak, of what we must and long to – but in the morning only; for now, come, to your rest and mine.”

And saying this he took her in his arms and carried her to their bed; and he laid her head upon the pillows and covered her body, and set her to sleep in the very robes that she had worn that day. And he laid beside her in his shirt and breeches, and did not change into night robes from the draw of rest and of the comfort of his bed. And in her sleep his lady reached for him, and he held her close; and so it was that when Éowyn woke the coming morning she felt the weight of his arms around her, and the softness of his shirt beneath her cheek.

Then, when she moved her head upon his chest and made to raise, his right hand came up softly to caress her cheek; and she felt a shiver run through her for the warmth of his fingers and the tenderness of his touch.

“Good morrow,” said he.

“Good morrow,” she replied; and as she held her eyes fast upon his shoulder a smile came to her lips. Then she looked up at him, and, with eyes bright, she said: “It was not a dream, then.” And Faramir smiled in kind and shook his head; and as he gazed at her he felt his chest fill with great happiness.

After a time they rose, to see the other better if for nothing else; and he leaned against the dark frame of the bed, while she sat back facing him, close by his side. And only then did Éowyn realise that he was in his shirtsleeves, and she wore still the white gown from the day before; and with the white coverings around them they both seemed clear and new, like to the fresh, cool breeze of the first snow, or the bright light of morning upon the coming of spring.

And they looked long one at the other, as if no other thing could bring them any joy. And so clear was the look that passed between them that now, with the days gone by and the time set for their thoughts to be spoken, such words seemed nigh of no use. And for this thought that they both had Éowyn gave another smile, amused and abashed altogether, and Faramir grinned. But in the end he reached out for her hands, and lowered his head even as he raised them, then kissed them long and soft; and with a smile still on his face he said:

“I am home again, my lady, ten days from my departure; and I would ask you tell me of these days that you have spent here – for many times has Ithilien been in my heart and mind while seeing to my duties.”

And she said: “The days passed as any other, my lord; Ithilien neither grew nor lessened in them; but my hours were long. But you? What of your duties, were they well brought to an end?”

“They were,” he answered, “and what they told of was most pleasing. In all the corners of the realm of Gondor the crops were bountiful this year; it may well be the richest one yet.” Then he was quiet for a little while, and as he traced her fingers with his own he said in a deep voice: “I have missed you.”

And Éowyn smiled and said no more, for her heart had filled with warmth, and no other words came to her that could speak of it better. Then Faramir leant towards her, and with his hands along her face he pressed his brow to hers.

“Éowyn,” he breathed, “I have longed for the sight of your face, the sound of your voice, your words, your very presence, in all the days that I have been away.” And leaning back a little to look into her eyes he said: “As my lady wife, my very light and life, my happiness – I love you.”

And raising her hands to take hold of his wrists Éowyn closed her eyes to stay the tears of joy that had begun to flow; then at last her breath came easy and clear, and she looked at him and smiled, blissful and secure. And she said to him:

“And I you – as my husband, my lord, my peace of mind and ease of heart – my Faramir.”

And he was overjoyed, and his eyes were bright as he looked upon her; and in the end he leaned towards her once again, and his lips lingered upon hers in a soft, gentle kiss.

“And here do we begin again,” he whispered after a time, then kissed her once again, pressing their bodies close.

And upon that day, and in the ones that came, they were ever at the other’s side, walking together arm in arm and hand in hand, speaking, and hoping and dreaming. And they knew that new days would begin indeed, and that they would be free from cares and worries – that their future would be bright, and that both their trials and burdens would at last have come to an end.

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