Rise (Lord of the Rings)

57 - Butting Heads

            The few days following me waking up in Minas Tirith were peaceful. For most, it was a time to recover and let wounds heal. This was true for me, but very little, as the only injuries to me were the cut across my collarbone—which healed quickly—and the bruises that blotted along my neck.

I frequently visited the others. On more than one occasion, I ran into Faramir or it would be vice versa. It seemed that most of the time we talked about Boromir. I felt uncomfortable talking about Faramir's dead brother, but it seemed to help him.

Whenever I was with Éowyn, relationships were the discussion. I told her about my assumption about the connection between her and Faramir. She laughed, though I saw in her grey eyes a faint trace of hope. She wanted to have that connection with someone.

She needed someone to comfort her in this dark time with King Théoden gone.

In one of our talks, Éowyn brought up how she had fancied Aragorn. It confirmed my suspicions from a while ago. I felt her pain, though, when she told me how he rejected her—not in a rude way, mind you, but in the gentlest way possible. No matter how gentle or harsh rejection was, it was still rejection, and it hurt.

I never really saw much of Gandalf or Gimli during the peaceful days, I tended to come across Legolas or Aragorn more. With Legolas, he brought up the conversation of archery with me, wondering if I was still willing to try after everything was over. I told him I'd think about it—archery was the last thing on my mind.

While I was busy with talking to the others, Pippin had Merry to himself. Of course, Pippin got me on occasion, which was nice, since he recounted his experiences when arriving in Minas Tirith with Gandalf. When Pippin and I were alone, he had told me about such experiences.

When Pip mentioned the Steward of Gondor was Boromir and Faramir's father, I had almost been surprised, but remembered that Boromir had mentioned his father once. Yet, that was at Lord Elrond's Council meeting in Rivendell, so long ago...

Pippin continued to tell me how he put himself in the Steward's service as compensation for Boromir's death (the Steward had learned of his son's death before Gandalf and Pippin had arrived), and how upset he was with the Steward. Apparently, the Steward wanted a city near a river to be retaken even though it had been under Orc control. That wasn't the part that had me seething in anger; it was when the Steward had told Faramir flat out that he would rather have Boromir alive that got me enraged. How a father could say that to his only remaining son!

Pippin then told me how Faramir then foolishly took all of his men, riding to the city. He had been the only one who came back alive, though he was injured gravely.

"If you think you're mad now, just wait," Pippin had told me. "A few men brought Faramir back on a stretcher to the Steward, and Denethor—that's his name—immediately thought Faramir was dead! He started going on and on to himself. During his babbling, I discovered Faramir was alive—but barely breathing. I tried to tell Denethor, but he didn't listen. Not long after that, the battle had begun.

"While the chaos was going on, with the Orcs, trolls, and Ringwraiths, I saw that the Steward was going to burn himself and Faramir. He lost his mind by that time, Marlena. They had the pyre stacked and ready. I tried again to convince the Steward that his son wasn't dead, but he still didn't believe me!"

"How ignorant," I had snorted.

"In the end, I got Gandalf to help me; we rescued Faramir just as the pyre was lit. Denethor by that time had poured the oil all over himself and Faramir. The flames got the Steward and he ran off, burning."