A REKINDLING OF HEARTS

Everyone that he cared about was dead. His brother, his father— in the worst way imaginable. He was in the Houses of Healing while others were taking up the task to defend Gondor. Faramir felt restless and hopeless. The pain from his injuries was easing, but his heart was heavy with grief. He had heard that it was decided that Aragorn and his uncle Imrahil were leading an army to march on the gates of Mordor to provide somewhat of a distraction. He did not completely understand this, but he was ashamed he could not be part of the last stand. How did it come to this?

At first he did not understand what had happened since he had awakened. But from bits and pieces from Pippin the Hobbit and from Beregond, he had gathered that his father had not made the battle, and his mind was overthrown from using the Palantir to battle Sauron. No wonder he had spent many nights fatigued and ill at ease, seemingly like he had already known what may happen! He felt grieved that his father would go in this way and felt lonelier than ever before, having lost both father and dear brother in this war. How he wished he could’ve done more!

Faramir shifted in his bed and decided to do something to stop feeling so distressed. He was, after all, Steward of Gondor now since his father had passed. For better or worse, there were tasks to be done and he had to feel out how his damaged city had survived the siege. Better yet, he would like to find more answers rather than feel a heavy heart. He had also met Lady Éowyn the previous day and could not help stop thinking about her. Her loveliness was unmatched by any maiden he had known, and he pitied her for her grief seemed to reflect his own grief and he felt a connection unexplained. He wished to learn more.

He walked along the Garden of the Houses of Healing, knowing from Pippin that his kinsman was also housed here and was sorely hurt. He wondered about him and wondered if he had more insight to the battle that was fought and to the Lady of Rohan who also resided here.

He soon found that he was not the only person who was walking the Gardens, the hobbit Meriadoc was there too.  He was walking slowly, his face was pale, but his eyes bright. He felt heartened to see him for he knew that Meriadoc, too, had suffered from the Black Shadow. He had spoken to Pippin briefly before he marched on the gates of Mordor, and he wanted to acquaint himself with his kinsman for it seemed that they had much to share.

Merry looked up at the same moment and his eyes brightened even more in recognition. “Hullo, there!” And seeming to remember his manners, added “Lord..Faramir,” he said rather sheepishly.

“I have been looking forward to meeting you ever since Peregrin told me that you were staying here as well.  How do you fare?” Faramir asked.

“Thank you for asking, my Lord! I am better; my arm is better and less cold, and I am less tired. I worry about Pippin but he should know what he’s getting into, am I right? How do you fare? I heard about the rough time you’re having and if I can do anything, please let me know.”

Faramir was touched by this hobbit’s frankness and also his seemingly cheery spirit; no wonder they call him “Merry”. “Master Meriadoc, firstly; no need to call me ‘Lord’; Faramir should be fine. Secondly, I am recovering physically as well in terms of physically. My heart is heavy with grief regarding my father and brother but I cannot dwell forever…” Faramir trailed on not knowing what else to say.

“War is so very hard. I myself just met a wonderful man in King Theoden, and he unfortunately perished as well. It is no wonder that the Lady Éowyn is so hurt inside. However, I had seen her look hurt since before the big battle on the Pelennor Fields.”

“Is that so?” Faramir wondered about that statement.

“Well yes, I rode with her, thinking that it was a man, for she told me her name is ‘Dernhelm’ and she seldom spoke, so I did not know,” Merry looked down and blushed. “She rode to war as if seeking death and I do not know why for she is so lovely and has so much to live for…”

“I have seen that look before and I do know that grief touches us in different ways and some worse than others,” Faramir replied, looking towards the East and seeing that the clouds seem to gather even more against the darkening sky. Suddenly, he felt tired and grieved again to think about those that have passed that he had no control over. Minas Tirith was recovering from a long siege. How did he let Mordor sweep through to his own city?

Merry followed Fararmir’s gaze and felt pangs of anxiety as well for all whom he loved and cared for had gone East into the war while he lay idle. He tried to say something that could alleviate both their fears, “Aragorn will take care of the situation- he always does. He and Gandalf will bring back everyone. It will be all right; you will see.”

Fararmir smiled grimly. “I have seen his skill in healing and battle, and I do have hope in Aragorn for he will bring Gondor into a new era in our history. I hope that my father was wrong about him and that he will do right by Gondor. It is time for times of peace if we win through. But what of the Ring? Do you think Frodo is still out there?”

“I think we should still have hope though it is bleak and …and…nothing is certain. I wish I had rode out as well but Aragorn was against me going,” and at that moment, Merry felt frail and useless again, left behind as he always was.

“We will have to keep each other company as others fight this war; do not worry, Meriadoc!”

“Please just call me Merry; no one says Meriadoc unless I am in trouble,” Merry smiled. “I do hope news is near.”

“In the meantime, I hope that Lady Éowyn will also grace us with her presence since she seems like she needs some companionship.” Faramir’s eyes shifted to the room in which she dwelled.

Merry looked at Faramir’s face searchingly.  Faramir seemed to take a fondness to the Lady Éowyn. Merry decided to play along with his curiosity.

“You’ve met Lady Éowyn before?”

“I have briefly when she asked me to find a window that would face eastward or to let her leave the Houses of Healing. To both I smiled and only complimented her but she did not seem to take me seriously. I think we’ve all gone through similar hurts and to come together is the best way to battle the darkness of the days ahead.”

“I admire your outlook, Faramir for I do not think I would think the same if I had lost my father and brother so soon. I am again so sorry about Boromir. I was there along with Pippin that day. We are both indebted to him for had it not been for his courage at that time, we would be dead.”

“No need to thank those actions that are necessary and honorable. It is our duty to defend anyone against the foul orcs. The fall of Boromir is not your fault either, and it’s best not to think that way. I will miss him sorely and there will never be someone like him.” Faramir felt tears gather in his eyes.

“You’ve had a tough time… I do wish things were different too.” Merry felt distraught but he thought of a plan to cheer up Faramir. “You should try to meet the Lady Éowyn again.”

“Yes, and why would you suggest that?”

“I think you both have things in common,” replied Merry, rather innocently.

“I would, but she is seldom in the gardens—I have not even seen her come out to have her meal. I wonder why she seeks solitude.”

“Probably because she knows no one here. Think about it, she is the only one from Rohan that is in these houses. You should watch out for her tomorrow.”

Faramir did feel hopeful to be acquainted with this lovely lady. He wished he could understand her hurts and keep his mind off the horrific death of his father whom he respected but didn’t entirely get along with. Merry was right. He should be on the lookout for Éowyn.

The man and hobbit sat in silence as the sunless day turned to another close and the dark clouds kept hanging low, dampening their spirits even though they tried to hope that war would soon draw to a close.

TBC