"Sleeping Fire"
by Beryll

 

Eomer stood at the window of his room, his gaze firmly fixed on the hundreds and hundreds of fires burning outside on the fields surrounding Edoras. Like tiny red stars, rivaling those shinning quietly in the sky, they burned, defiantly keeping the night and the fear at bay.

The forces of Rohan had gathered. Riders and horses ready to give their lives to defend their homes and families. Because that was what they were doing really. Fighting a desperate battle to survive. Even if they were going to Gondor to do it. If Gondor fell, they wouldn't stand a chance on their own.

They looked to their leaders for hope, for strength. But all Eomer felt at this darkest hour of the night was bonedeep fear.

Tomorrow they would ride. Tomorrow he would be strong. But tonight he gave in to all his despair. His hands clenched on the windowsill, his barely healed fingers painfully scraping against the rough stone.

In this dark night he did not see any hope. How could they even try to stand against the combined forces of Isengard and Mordor? How could he take his sister into certain death?

He raised one of his hands up to look at the healing skin, that had broken anew and was bleeding. Just like his heart. He had torn at his prison bars, till his hands bled, trying to get at Grima, standing outside, smirking, telling him all that he would do to Rohan, once he had disposed of the king, once he was married to Eowyn.

Then the snake had left, taking with him all light, leaving Eomer in suffocating darkness. Nobody had seen him curl up into a ball in a corner of his prison. Nobody had heard him weep. At least that much of his pride remained untouched.

Still he himself knew what defeat felt like now. It strengthened the fear in his heart till it held him in a viselike grip, unable to move or think.

So he did not move, when he heard the door to his chamber open quietly. He expected Eowyn to come looking for him, but the footsteps were to heavy for his lightweight sister. There was only one other person who would enter his rooms without knocking.

When strong arms encircled him from behind, he let his head fall back against the shoulder offered for comfort, closing his eyes to the hopeful fires and hungry darkness alike, savoring the fleeting feeling of security.

For a long moment both men remained quiet, Eomer wondering at the fact that Faramir truly was there. When the guards had come down to the dungeon, bringing back light and noise, he had felt relief and dread alike. He had expected to be led to his execution, just like Grima had promised, but to freedom.

But the guards had treated him with utter respect. They had even brought his sword to reassure him that his imprisonment was over. When he heard that it had been his sister who ordered his release he had hardly been able to believe his own ears. Something must have gone very wrong with Wormtongues plans.

He had hurried upstairs to find out for himself without listening to the explanations of the guards. So seeing Faramir there had completely taken him by surprise. To see those green eyes filled with worry and relief alike turn on him, devour him hungrily, making sure that he was unharmed, to feel that strong hand on his arm, to know that he had come to find him, all that had hit him with the unexpectedness of an orcish arrow fired from an ambush. And it had pierced his heart just as hard.

What had been a battlefield fling years ago had grown into much more over all those month of loneliness in the open plains. Those rare moments when they met to talk and to offer and receive comfort in their struggle against an overwhelming foe and the madness in their own homes, they had turned into the one light to cling to.

Still he had never found the courage to name it.

"I did not think you would be foolish enough to come." Eomer finally said, his voice still rough from disuse.

"I told you I would." Faramir answered, his mouth so close to Eomer's ear he could feel the warm breath. Faramir's arms tightened around him a fraction. "I did not think I would find you alive." There was pain in that voice now.

Eomer raised a hand to interlace it with Faramir's. "Thank you." He tried to put into those two words all that he truly felt, all that he truly wanted to say, as he still wasn't able to speak out loud what was in his heart.

Again there was silence, both commanders gazing out at the countless campfires.

Again it was Eomer who spoke first. "Do you see hope out there? I see brave men, who I have to take into a battle we can not win. How can we hope to defend Middle Earth against Mordor and Isengard? And against the madness that still dwells in Gondor..."

He turned around in Faramir's arms with out breaking the embrace as a thought crossed his slowly reawakening mind. "How can you be here? I did not think the steward would allow you to go to Rohan, lest alone entrust you with such an important diplomatic mission."

The smile on Faramir's lip was enough to make Eomer want to kiss them, but the fact that it reached his eyes for the first time in many years made him pause.

Faramir leaned forward so his lips brushed Eomer's ear before he started his whispered explanation: "My brother has returned. And he has brought most unexpected help. A heir to the throne has returned to Gondor. Even I don't know what exactly transpired and how it was achieved, but my father is healed from his madness. He has accepted the claim. There will be a king to defend Gondor."

He leaned back again looking at Eomer, his green eyes soft with emotion. "I see hope now."

Eomer stared at him in wonder. And his heart stirred with the same mix of emotion he found in Faramir's eyes. Hope - and love.

He raised his hands to Faramir's face, fingertips first brushing redgold hair aside, then firmly taking his cheeks in hand, drawing him forward to kiss him. He took his time, exploring those lips anew, the slight tingling of rough beard, the firm mouth of a man used to commanding, the hungry tongue inside, seeking a way to conquer his own mouth. He let himself fall into that, silently seeking to exorcise his fears.

When they parted, they were both breathless, their hearts beating hard with a longing that had been strengthened to painful levels by fear.

"Tomorrow we will ride into battle." Eomer said, his gaze locked with Faramir's. "Probably into death." He laid his hand over Faramir's chest to feel his heart beat strong and fast. "Will you ride me tonight?"