for veryfond

[nearamir]

[He has spent more and more time with the Lady of Rohan, as their recoveries progress. At first, it was largely for Elia's sake: seeing how she split herself between him and her old friend, knowing how tired she must be, knowing that once the children returned there would be more difficulty still, it seemed best to take a little of the weight off her shoulders.]

[At first. But then, he actually met Éowyn, began to break down the armour of her hostility, and there is more to it, now. There is a deeper sorrow in her, grief both old and new, calling out to his pity; and there is a strength and a steel behind it that is undeniable, a nobility that she carries even in the depths of despair. Most of all, there is understanding. They both of them faced the same darkness, looked it in the eye; both of them have walked to the edge of the same dark place, and dragged themselves back to the light.]

[It stopped being about Elia some time ago. They do not talk of her much, these days - though he thinks that may be because Éowyn is not prepared to reopen whatever wound is there, and he does not mean to be the one to uncover it. They talk of losses, and of grief, and of hope and the new world before them. She talks of the darkness, and he reminds her of the light. Both of them, at times, weep.]

[But the more they talk, the more the sense of that something grows: that history between her and Elia, which none of them speak of, the knowledge that she knows things about his wife that he does not, and that that there is a tension pulling them all in different directions. He is sensitive to such things.]

[Éowyn is healed enough to speak of returning to Rohan. The thought pains him, obscurely; if nothing else, she has become a close friend. But there is more to it than that, and he is too honest to pretend to himself that there is not.]

[He has left the Houses of Healing at last, returning to his own rooms. He is lying with his arm around Elia, carding his fingers through her hair, when he says suddenly:] How long were you lovers?

Comments

[veryfond]

[ Time has passed and with it has come a sort of acclimation to the new state of things. Elia had been nervous when she first had Faramir speak to Éowyn, suspecting that she would see it as a betrayal. It is obvious that the sheer fact of her marriage is upsetting to the other woman, so why would she want to talk with the cause of her unhappiness?

But Faramir had been right about the wound they both share, the darkness that had nearly claimed them both. Slowly, the conversations had grown longer, and when she goes on her own visits to Éowyn, there's a marked difference, a healing of the heart and mind as well as the body. It makes a certain amount of sense. There are things that Elia cannot give Éowyn, things they can never discuss. It is good that she has someone where none of that added weight is there.

(While other woman might suspect the worst with their husband spending time with another woman, Elia doesn't, even with her history making her more cautious than most. This is a different sort of realm and Faramir is not Rhaegar.)

All of this is to say she has no idea of Faramir's suspicions. For Elia the moment is one of peaceful calm, resting beside him in their shared bed, enjoying the soft feeling of fingers in her hair. ] Hmm? [ The words don't register at first, and she looks at him quizzically for a moment until her eyes widen, body tensing.

There is no way she can pretend she doesn't understand what he's asking. Elia may not have been completely honest with him, but outright lying is something different. Still, she has no idea why he is asking this, why this is happening, why she cannot simply wish Éowyn well on her journey back to Rohan and keep the memories safely locked inside. It is not that she wants her dear friend to go- she just feels it is the only option. ]

I- [ Her voice is small and quiet and unsure, which she hates. She twists around to face him, searching his eyes. Her own are filled with trepidation. ] Not long. We both knew that was how it would be when it started. It wasn't...

[ But it feels unfair to Éowyn, to say it wasn't like what she now has with Faramir. How could anything between two women be like a marriage, when that very act was impossible for them? ]

[nearamir]

[For a moment, there is laughter in his eyes - genuine amusement at just how sharp her reaction was - but it does not last. Not in the face of her clear uncertainty and doubt.]

[He meets her eyes, and his voice is gentle, his arm still around her shoulders.]

It was.

Do not look at me so fearfully, meleth. I do not mean to shame you; I am not angry at it. Shall I accept that you have had another husband, another father to your children, and yet be upset that you have had love?

But love it was, and love it is - it is clear, for only love brings such grief - and it is no joy to me to see you both pretend otherwise. There are enough griefs unspoken or unspeakable. This should not be one of them.

[He leans in, kissing the side of her head, and repeats:] I am not angry. I am glad, if anything, for I deem she has long been lonely, and you both deserved some taste of happiness.

But I would that you had told me sooner.

[veryfond]

[ Elia has always appreciated Faramir's wisdom, his kindness, but not for the first time she feels as though they are living in two different worlds. Many men would not hesitate at being upset with her, and would certainly not encourage her to think of it as love.

Was it love? Elia could not recall ever saying so at the time, but the words do not come easily to her, as he knows. She closes her eyes as he kisses her head, some of her worries assuaged but still uncertain. How can Faramir say that he is glad, on any level, about this? Surely if he was the one with the ex-lover sadly forced to observe their marriage, he would realize that that past happiness came with a heavy cost.

She clears her throat, meeting his eyes again. ] It was not mine alone to tell. I did not wish to shame her. Such things are different for women. [ And not all men are him. ]

[nearamir]

[He makes it sound simpler than it feels, even to him. The truth is, he has been turning the situation over in his mind, time and again: questioning what it means that she has loved another, that another has loved her enough to react as Éowyn first did to him, that there is someone else, and that they are here. He has lost sleep over it. It has been another grief, atop so many, to see them struggle with it too.]

[But he does have the advantage that it took him perhaps a few days to correctly assess the situation, and he has had plenty of time to work through it. He loves Elia. Very well; if another love is part of what Elia contains, then he will not reject it. And if there is joy in Elia's past - the vague hints of which have all seemed very bitter - then he is, he has decided, glad of that. Whatever it may cost.]

[He nods, slowly.] I understand why you did not. Why she did not, either. It is not an easy thing.

But it hurts you both, to have it go unanswered. And if she returns to the Mark, and it is unspoken still, then it will always go unanswered.

[He presses his brow to hers, his thumb tracing the nape of her neck.]

It is not my aim to reopen wounds, beloved. But for the love I bear you both - [-and he does love them both, now, he has realised; love them in different ways, perhaps, but after how he and Éowyn have opened to one another, it is hard to call it anything else-] - I cannot be the cause of their festering.

If you must hide it from me, then it will fester. There are secrets enough between us.

[veryfond]

[ While Faramir has had a lot of time to think about this, Elia is still having trouble just navigating this conversation. He has no doubt noticed how difficult it was for her to acknowledge her feelings for him, her own husband, and now he wants her to be even more open than that.

Perhaps it will be good for her and Éowyn, but is it not just as likely that it will lead to more strife? Nothing will change the facts, that it will never be as it was.

She wants to feel assured as he presses his brow to hers, but there is a lingering disquiet as he speaks of love (for them both, somehow) and secrets (all of which are hers). ]

I will speak of it if you believe it will help. [ There is still uncertainty in her voice, but it gains confidence with what she wants to say next. ] But it was not your fault, that I let this fester. I just did not want to hurt either of you more than I already have but [ she pauses, eyes downcast ] I fear there is no avoiding that.

[nearamir]

[He sighs. There is no hint of levity in him now, and when he draws back, one hand gently tilting her chin up so that she will meet his eyes, the gaze seeking hers is solemn and sincere.]

You have not hurt me, Elia.

[His voice, too, is solemn - but it is soft, too.]

I cannot speak for the Lady Éowyn, only for myself. But for myself, you have done me no wrong. How could you wrong me, when you did not even know me? Shall I demand that, from birth, you have had no thought but to do what I would wish? Shall I demand the same of myself, that my life began when we were wedded, and am I answerable to you for all that came before?

And even if it were so, even if I were to hold you answerable to me for every moment ere we met - shall I be so callous as to resent what has lost me nothing?

No; if you have hurt anyone but yourself, then it is her alone, not me. And if you have hurt her, then you must speak of it, and tell her all that has passed to bring you here and to my side; and if it is a hurt she has forgiven, then she should have the chance to tell you so, and not fear that I will discover it.

[There is a tiny twitch of a smile, just for a moment.] In truth, it was an empty fear: she gave it away the moment we met. But I do not think she knows it, and I would not wish to tell her so.

[veryfond]

[ Elia meets his gaze readily enough, yet she cannot help but feel like they are speaking of two different things. Yes, of course she has not wronged Faramir by having a lover before him. But many men would be upset at her for it anyway, and even if they weren't, they likely would not be so eager to have her speak of it with Éowyn. ]

I do not really think I have hurt you or her. [ She sighs, moving to sit up against the headboard. ] That is the problem. No one has done anything wrong yet we are all hurting. Éowyn cares for us both now [ unlike him, Elia isn't just going to throw around the word love. ] but I'm sure it pains her, that we have each other when she is alone.

But I am glad you came to me first. Even when we were girls, she wanted to be the sort of person who did not show her feelings to the world.

[ A ghost of a smile on her face now, as Elia had always found her failure in this regard rather endearing. Now she cannot forget the look on Éowyn's face when it became clear that she did not just have a husband, she had a husband that she loved. How is she supposed to fix that? ]

[nearamir]

[He shifts, too, following her; there is an obscure shame in the pit of his chest, at troubling her so, and once he moves, he realises how it has made him restless.]

[His hand seeks hers, offering reassurance - though whether it is for her or for him, he is not entirely sure.]

I understand it well enough. She was not permitted armour, and so she made her own of plated strength and silence; and if it was clumsily-wrought in places, still, it has seen her through this far.

[No farther. He has seen how Éowyn has wept, since the battle; and he has perceived how much it frustrates her at times. He understands it all too well. He remembers the horrible feeling of coming apart, when his own armour failed him, when he could no longer take his father's anger and turned it back upon him.]

[In many ways, Éowyn is his opposite. Anger and hate have been the emotions he has striven most to bury; they have been the only ones she has seemed to let to the surface. She has tried to keep her emotions from the world; he, he is aware, has tried mostly to keep them from himself.]

[And Elia? Where does Elia fall, among all of this? He has a feeling - not a particularly comfortable one - that she is the best of the three of them; the one who, in hiding herself, has most succeeded.]

[His fingers lace through hers, and he sighs.]

I think that it has begun to fall, now. The armour, and all that it holds. And I think she will be better for it, in the end; but she must survive it, first.

I am afraid for her. That is the truth of the matter. I would rest easier if her brother had remained; then she would not feel herself so alone.

[Éomer had returned to Gondor after the confrontation at the Black Gates, but only briefly. He is King now, after all, and there is a great deal to be done in Rohan - beginning with the old King's burial.]

[veryfond]

[ She does not hesitate in taking his hand when he reaches for her. It is not that she no longer wants his comfort after all. Just... being that close was feeling a little stifling.

He is right to think of her as most successful in hiding herself. In truth, she cannot remember the last time she truly allowed herself to feel things fully- besides those moments when she thought him gone. Perhaps if her brother was here, or if she had some friend with whom she did not share a complicated romantic past- but no.

Truthfully, in spite of how she wished not to have this conversation at all, Faramir is right. She and Éowyn need to talk plainly, for both of their sakes. What grates at her (something that she hesitates to call annoyance, though that is what it is) is that she could not come to this conclusion on her own. Perhaps it was not right for her to keep this from Faramir, but she would have preferred he raise the subject more gently. Just something else that she cannot control. ]

I do wish her brother would have stayed. [ Then at least it would not be all on Elia and this conversation he wants them to have, to help Éowyn through this difficult time. ] I am afraid for her as well, but I will not assume the worst. She will find a new kind of strength, one with less armor. [ She squeezes his hand. Somehow, hearing him worry has made her feel more willing to reassure him, to have hope.

Still, a thought lingers in her mind, Faramir's freezing cold wound. The pain he and Éowyn share. Is she hoping for too much? ]

[nearamir]

[Judging by how his other hand has drifted to his ribs, unconsciously fingering at the half-scarred edges of the wound, a similar thought is in his mind. But he does not voice it.]

[She is right. He does, ultimately, trust that she is right. Éowyn is alive, and she will remain so; and she will discover the strength that he has seen in her, which is separate from her sword and her shield-arm, and separate from her cold and distant bearing. That, he will have faith in.]

[His head falls back against the bedstead, his eyes turning upwards toward the shadows overhead. He sighs softly, and is quiet for a long moment. There are several things he wants to say. He wants to ask when, if ever, Elia will put aside her own armour, which is secrecy; he wants to put forward his fear that it is that old love that may keep Éowyn from finding new comfort (and it should not be difficult, surely; she is young and fair and noble and bold, and cannot be starved for suitors); he wants to apologise for raising it at all. All of it, on reflection, will make matters worse if he says it aloud.]

[In the end, he just settles for:] I do not want to come between you. That is the heart of it, I suppose.

And that is enough to say; I shall say no more on it, unless you ask.

[veryfond]

[ She notices how his hand drifts to his ribs, and wonders what he must be thinking. In some ways he can do more for Éowyn than Elia can now. She sometimes ponders what they speak of when they are alone together. Éowyn's loneliness is obvious, but she knows Faramir has held himself apart from nearly everyone besides her and his brother. Now, there is only her. Perhaps it is unwise to shoo her feelings for Éowyn away, given how entwined they have become, but she does not know what will happen if she feels them fully.

What he says, in the end, catches her off-guard. ] You do not have to worry about that. [ It was not him who came between them. It was Rhaegar first, and even before him, it was duty. Duty was what made Éowyn leave Dorne and what made Elia never travel to Rohan. But it is not what keeps her by Faramir's side now.

Her hand still grasping his, she moves closer again, until her shoulder brushes his own. ] I love you. [ It is the truth, and it has not changed. Still, she cannot pretend that him knowing about her and Éowyn has not made her feel slightly off-kilter. But she will adapt. She always has. ]

[nearamir]

[He does worry about it, all the same. No, he did not come between them first; but if they had come across one another again under other circumstances, if he had not happened to marry Elia or if he had not survived the war... would things have been different? Would they have been able to speak more frankly, then?]

[He does not regret the path that has brought them here, of course. He would not give up his love for her, nor the support he and Éowyn have been able to offer one another. All the same, he wonders.]

[But he does not say so; he just squeezes Elia's hand, and leans down to press a kiss to her bare shoulder.]

And I am glad of it every day. I love you, too, above all else. There is little I would not give, to see you happy.

[A small, wry smile.] Which I hope you still believe, when I am aggravating you so.

[It probably makes it worse that he's fully aware that was what he just did.]

[veryfond]

[ It is best not to dwell on those sorts of possibilities, Elia has learned. The occasional thought that she wishes she had met him first just makes her feel guilty, because what would that mean for her children? She has lived the life she has, and there is nothing she can do to change the past. ]

I feel the same way about you. [ After all he has done for her, it is the least she could do, to try her best to make him happy. It's a thought that makes her push aside any previous annoyance, to the point that she's caught off-guard when he brings it up.

She smiles. ] I know you only do what you think is best.

[ And given her experience with marriage, it is hard to get too mad at him- or to express it, at the very least. ]

[nearamir]

[He smiles back, a little more certainly, and leans in to kiss her, gently and softly. He does not say - does not let himself think, more than a moment - so did my father.]

Yet for all that, a wise man might have waited until the morning.

I am sorry, meleth. If for nothing else, then for keeping you from sleep. Come, will you lie back down, and rest with me?

[veryfond]

[ After the kiss, she does feel a bit better. ]

I will be on guard when we break our fast from now on, then. [ There is a ghost of a laugh in her voice, and she does not hesitate in lying down next to him, kissing him one final time on the cheek before attempting to find rest.

Yet the sense of disquiet lingers into her dreams, and she cannot help but think that something has changed, small yet irrevocable. What exactly it will mean she does not yet know. Elia wishes she did. ]

lmk if you want me to set up a next scene with éowyn or w/e <3

[nearamir]

[He laughs, but briefly and a little uncertainly, feeling it is less a joke than he would like. But it is a relief, all the same, to know she is not furious at him - even if he does stay awake long after he would like, and lies in the dark watching her, worrying at which of his words have chased her into sleep.]

[It does not stop him from rising early, just as he usually does; and if he is a little quieter and more pensive than usual, it does not last. He says no more of their late-night conversation.]

[He thinks of it plenty. But that is his own concern.]