Minas Tirith - Legacy of the Ring Bearer

Fic Name : Minas Tirith - Legacy of the Ring Bearer.
Chapter Name : Awakening from Death
Pairing : Faramir/Boromir, Faramir/Frodo, Faramir/Aragorn, Aragorn/Frodo,
Rating : NC17
Beta : The wonderful and stouthearted HEL!
Timeline : During the War of the Ring, in the final days and the year afterwards.
Synopsis : Faramir learns from Gandalf that he is pregnant with Frodo's child though love does not exist between them, or so the Prince of Gondor believes.
Disclaimer : I don't claim to own anything or make any money. Suing me will not do any good, you'd get a quarter at the most. Tolkien owns all the pretty men and hobbits. And FYI, this scene contains some ROTK spoilers for those of you who haven’t seen it yet.

NOTE : This is AU, I am playing fast and loose with the plotline, Eowyn does not meet Faramir after the siege of Gondor, but after the Black Gate collapses.


Chapter Four: Awakening.

Faramir moaned, clinging to the darkness as a dying man might cling to his last drop of breath. The darkness was a safe place, a place that shrouded him and kept him from harm. He did not open his eyes, despite pleadings from a distressed young hobbit. Pippin Took looked up at the Lady Eowyn, who was sitting nearby. “He has been like this since…since…” the hobbit bit his lip, looking back over to Merry who had propped up on his elbow to look with curiosity at his cousin.

“Pippin saved him from burning to death.” Merry explained to Eowyn, who had just woken up herself. “Eomer brought you in here, the healers said. You’re going to be okay, Eowyn.”

“You too Merry?” She looked him over carefully, noticing his arm in a sling. Eowyn’s eyes returned to the young man in the bed. Pippin seemed to be fretting quite a bit over him, the young hobbit had taken a cold cloth and was pressing it against Faramir’s burning skin. “Who is he?” She stretched, more than a little exhausted, yet they had won. The battle for Middle Earth had been victorious. It was daunting, but it left her lightheaded as well, despite the heavy heart she held due to her uncle’s death. She gazed upon Faramir and saw that he was indeed, quite handsome, despite being half-dead.

Pippin looked up at Eowyn with a strained expression. “He is Faramir, son of Denethor, Captain of Gondor. Its to him we owe the victory. He let Frodo and Sam go. He let the ring go. If he had not done so…” Pippin shuddered. He had grown up quite a bit since they left the Shire, and he was bursting with the knowledge of the curious situation regarding Faramir. Gandalf had spoken quietly with the healers, and apparently the young man was going to live, and the baby was fine.

“Boromir’s brother.” Merry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I remember that Boromir spoke of him often. He was very concerned about leaving Faramir alone in Gondor. Something to do with their father.”

“Denethor!” Pippin’s eyes lit up with rage, a rather startling thing when it came to that particular hobbit and Merry was quite taken aback by it. “He tried to burn Faramir alive. He sent Faramir to his death when he found out that the captain was pregnant…” then he cringed as he felt Gandalf’s gaze suddenly pierce him.

“Peregrin Took. When will you learn?” He said irritably.

Eowyn’s eyes raised several notches. What in the world? How could it be? Men did not…at least not that she had ever been told. She looked at the young man now, more curiously than ever. “How is that possible?” she rose from her bed and padded over to the captain’s, sitting on the edge of it to take the place of Pippin, wetting the cloth and cooling the young man’s forehead and cheeks gently.

Gandalf grunted, the ancient wizard was quite tired, and he would be very glad when they would all get a good nights rest. “I am not spending the rest of the day explaining. Yes, he is pregnant. Bt wat was a secret. A secret known only to Denethor, Faramir myself and Pippin. Until now, you and Merry. It must remain a secret for now, until Faramir decides what he is going to do.”

Eowyn’s heart went to the young man at her side. She found herself wanting him to open his eyes, and to look at her. She could almost feel his pain, and if she truly admitted it to herself, she felt drawn to him, as though he was an anchor in the storm. He was someone she could focus upon after all that had happened. “Who is the father?” She asked without thinking.

“That I cannot tell you, and neither will you, Peregrin Took. You will remain silent if I have to sew your lips closed. Understand?” Gandalf loomed over the young hobbit in a semblance of a threat he never actually -meant- to carry out.

Pippin nodded furiously and kept his mouth shut.

Aragorn entered the healing chamber at that moment, delighted to see that Eowyn was awake. “Eowyn…” he walked over to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Your brother is on his way here. What you did was most Foolhardy! But the bravest and most noble act I have ever born witness to.”

She blushed under the praise, casting her gaze down to the young man who was stirring against his own will. “Shh…he wakes.”

Aragorn looked at Faramir, his own eyes frowning slightly. He reminded the King of someone. But who? Ahah…”This must be Boromir’s brother.” Of course it was, the resemblance was uncanny. Twas only a difference of age and bulk. “The one who gave up the ring.”

“Yes, the same.” Gandalf nodded. “Please, everyone, I think you might serve him better if you stood back. He is about to waken, and will be unused to so many people around him. Eowyn?”

But Faramir’s hand and found the young woman’s free one, and was clasping it, not letting her leave his side. Eowyn shook her head. “Its alright.” she told the wizard. The others abided by Gandalf’s direction, however.

Slowly, the young man’s lashes fluttered, and his eyes opened carefully, small slits at first until they gradually accepted that he was no longer asleep. The first image he saw was Eowyn’s face, almost an angel above him and he wondered if she was. “Have I died?” he asked her, hopefully…weakly reaching up to touch her hair.

She smiled at him, “No, Prince Faramir. I am Eowyn of Rohan. You are very much alive.” she assured him in a soft gentle voice.

His hand fell to the bedside, and he closed his eyes again. Memories rushed to him, but he held them at bay…seeking the comfort of the only voice he could ever accept for such a thing. But…the voice was strangely silent. He was alone. He needed his brother so badly, and yet…for once…Boromir had not come.

“Faramir!” Pippin could not contain himself as he rushed to the young man’s side. “You’re awake! You’re going to be okay.”

Sighing, he opened his eyes again to look at Pippin, releasing Eowyn’s hand. “Am I?” he asked the hobbit. “My father?”

Gandalf spoke then, drawing Faramir’s gaze. “Denethor son of Ecthelion is dead,” he said very quietly.

“Is he?” Faramir’s voice was soft, almost devoid of emotion. So much he didn’t want to remember. He felt nothing. No sadness, nor joy, not even a little compassion. He felt dead inside, and still.


Gentle hands brushed his forehead once again with cool water, and his gaze returned to Eowyn, then slowly around those in the room. Eowyn, Gandalf, Pippin, Merry and then finally to Aragorn, who wore Boromir’s bracers.

“The war is over, Faramir. Gondor is free.” Gandalf said softly, “This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, who will be King.”

Aragorn.

So this was Strider. He felt a wave of jealousy. The man was so different from him, so much stronger. He could feel it even at this distance, just being in the same room as the man. It was everything about him, that power and strength that he had long craved to have but never found. Boromir had had it too. Faramir forced himself to nod, even as his head fell back on the pillows. He put his hand to his stomach, face paling slightly as he remembered. His gaze shot to Gandalf then, and the wizard nodded.

“You are going to be just fine, Faramir.” Gandalf reassured him. “All is well.” A wealth of meaning was behind those three words, and yet there was no need for more to know of the young man’s condition.

That was not what he had wanted to hear. He would have been far happier had Gandalf said the baby was dead. Wouldn’t he? A question burned in his heart. If the war was over, what of the ring? Frodo and Sam…were they all right? He kept his eyes locked on the wizard, who seemed to understand.

“Frodo is alive and well, he is resting from his injuries, Sam too. He asked for you, I thought you would like to know. What shall I tell him?” The wizard’s voice was calm and quiet. Begged, was more like it. Frodo had begged for news of Faramir.

Frodo was back in Gondor.

Faramir felt very much like the center of attention, and he was not used to it. All he wanted to do right now was hide. He looked between Eowyn and Gandalf desperately. “I can’t…not right now. Tell him, I am alright. Please, I’m hungry, may I have something to eat?” He tried to sit up, but a wave of pain shot through him and he did not realize that he was still suffering from arrow wounds.

“Lie back, now.” Eowyn said. “I will take care of him. Gandalf, please go see to Frodo. I know you wish to be at his side when he wakes. Aragorn, I think that Captain Faramir needs some quiet right now, that goes for you two as well, Merry and Pippin.” Her gaze fell to the two hobbits. “And someone please tell Eomer to come visit later.” She did not think she could put up with the angry words from her brother she knew were sure to soon come.

Miraculously, everyone did Eowyn’s bidding, even the King, leaving Faramir to his peace while the young woman took care of him. After a time, and he had eatene sae sat on the edge of his bed once again to speak with him. He seemed more inclined to simply lie quietly and keep to himself, but she had to know more about him. She wanted to help him.

“Thank-you.” he said after a while, looking at her warily. Why she was there he could not begin to guess. He winced, as he attempted to move again, sitting up to eat had been incredibly painful. At least her presence kept his mind off of Frodo, and the baby.

“You did not eat that much,” she said briskly, eying the contents of the bowl. This time, it had not been her that had made it so she was quite sure it was not her cooking. “You hardly ate enough for a bird. You need nourishment.”

“I’m full,” he said firmly, looking away. In fact, his stomach was churning, and he doubted that he could handle -anything- else at this point. He felt as if he was going to throw up, but he did not want to mention such a thing to a woman.

Sensing his discomfort, she brushed the hair from his forehead and replaced the now warm cloth with a cooler one. Her fingers touched his cheek gently, feeling his temperature once again. He was not taking well to the medication the healers had given him, apparently.

“Please.” he shook his head, “Just leave me alone, I need to be alone,” he whispered somewhat hoarsely. He did not want her fingers touching him, not hers. Boromir had always taken care of him when he was ill, why should now be any different?

Because he is dead.

Tears filled his eyes and he buried his face in his hands, turning away from her painfully. Slowly everything was beginning to sink in, and he was more than a little overwhelmed. Eowyn did not turn away from him, no, she would not leave him. She could not. She ignored the pain in her shoulder and drew the trembling young man into her arms despite his protests.

Like a mother would a small child, she soothed him, stroking his hair gently and singing softly. She had never seen or felt such pain as she did with Faramir. His life must have not been an easy one. And now, it was going to be even more difficult.

It was more of a maternal feeling than anything else. She felt no love or attraction to Faramir, not like she had for Aragorn. She felt as though he needed more than that right now, and she doubted that he would feel anything for her at any rate, not with his current condition. Faramir did not like women, if he was pregnant with the child of a man.

“Lady Eowyn…” he murmured after a while. “I am going to be sick.”

And he was. The entire contents of his stomach seemed to come up at the moment when she prepared him. Deftly, the maiden of Rohan had broughe che chamber pot to his lap and held him up so that at the very least, nothing found its way anywhere else. He groaned at the end, when she laid him back on the pillows and bade a healer to take the pot away. She wiped his lips and smiled at him gently. “It happens, I’m told,” she said without thinking, but she often suc such things.

Faramir frowned slightly, looking at her. “What do you mean?” He inquired, rubbing his throat which felt quite raw now.

She blushed then, “When…when…” she did not know what to say.

“You know.” he paled. “You know. How many others know?” he glanced fearfully around. “I…”

“Yes, I know. Pippin spoke up by accident, only Merry and myself were in the room. Faramir. It is alright.” she tried to smile at him reassuringly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It is not alright!” he almost shouted, “Its not. I…can’t do this. Eowyn. Lady Eowyn if you wish to help me there is one thing that you can do. Help me get out of here. I must leave Gondor.” his voice rose steadily with each frantic word.

“You cannot even walk. That is insane, Faramir. Gondor is your home. Why do you wish to leave?” she was becoming a little worried at his agitated state, knowing that it was not good for the baby. “You must calm yourself.”

“I cannot stay in Gondor. Not with him here…no.” he struggled to a seating position, cursing when he was overcome with vertigo and forced back down. “I have to get away. I have to. If you’re not going to help me.” he glared suddenly at her, flinging her away from him with surprising strength, using enough strength that she had stumbled back onto the floor. “If you’re not going to help me then get out! Get out of here!”

Eowyn scrambled to her feet, daunted by the glare of hatred in Faramir’s eyes. It was almost madness, almost. She turned and fled from the room, seeking Gandalf’s council.

Alone, finally, Faramir relaxed.

*Brother….*

The soft voice at last. His eyes drifted closed as he felt the warm body next to him, and arms wrapping around him.

“I want to die too. Why am I still alive? Why me?” Faramir demanded plaintively.

*Because you must still play a part in this world.*

“I will die anyway when it happens. You know I will, they will not be able to stop the blood. What is the point?” The young man sighed, “There is no future here for me. I want to be with you.”

*You are with me. Every day. Heal, go to Frodo. He needs you.*

“He has Aragorn.”

*Faramir…* the voice soothed him, relaxing his irritation and the heat of the fever. As it always did. Faramir closed his eyes, and drifted back to sleep for his body was overcome by pain and there was nothing more that could be done than what had already been. It was up to him now.

**TBC**