#faramir

emma doesn't wake. and at cormallen, little by little and in the worst possible way, everyone starts to understand how long she'd been quietly running out.

gimli gives her until tomorrow. pippin reminds her of an old promise. faramir tells her about a library they never got to see. and aragorn, who has known her since she was four years old, finally finds the words he'd been holding onto his whole life.

everyone comes to say goodbye. everyone except legolas. because he knows something the others don't.

Hiii 🥺 thank you so much for asking, that's so sweet.

Yes, new chapter tomorrow!! I actually finished writing it today (and cried while doing it lol), so I'm letting it rest tonight to reread tomorrow morning and post it in the afternoon 💛

And I'm doing better! Still a little sad about some work stuff, but I signed up for a writing workshop with a bunch of fellow Tolkien nerds, and tomorrow I'm seeing my best friend too, so overall... happy girl era 🫶

And because I couldn’t resist, here’s a little sneak peek of chapter 35 :)

Like, we are accustomed to this idea that Eowyn is so madly in love with him, and that she is pitiful for not having it reciprocated. Some of us may even laugh at her, calling her “settling” for being with Faramir instead

But I recently rewatched ROTK (extended edition) and realised … Nope. She wasn’t being delusional. She was not to blame here, let alone laugh at

Aragorn DID act like he was available and was willing to reciprocate her love. Exhibit A: the party scene where she gave him a cup and he accepted it. The way that cup was handed gave me the impression that nope, this wasn’t just a hospitality thing. There’s another meaning to the gesture. And yes, if you read tarot, that scene always reminds me of the 2 of Cups—one of the most romantic card in the Minor Arcana.

Even better? Theoden congratulated her after that. So if she keeps her hopes up, she wasn’t being a delusional young woman. The gesture did mean he was accepting her love. Even her uncle saw and acknowledged what happened

We don’t know why Aragorn behaved like that. Perhaps he was about to accept that his relationship with Arwen would never work, and he was looking for a rebound—or replacement. Perhaps he was just another man, being unfaithful even to a wife/girlfriend he loved

Either way, that’s a red flag and I’m glad my girl Eowyn dodged that bullet

Thanks for the tag, @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras! I'm working on chapter 13 of I brought the sun and stars (my farawyn houses of healing longfic!) today, and I am proud of my progress. Here's a little snippet as Faramir reflects on what Éowyn has just revealed to him. It's a little rough, I just wrote it, but I think it came out decently and will really shine once I edit it through.

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Her tale had been harrowing, and though Faramir had surmised much from what he had learned from Merry and the Warden, hearing her tell the unflinching details of all that had happened to her had set a new heaviness upon him. He felt sadness for her, at the suffering she had endured, and also anger that she had been forced to endure it, and beneath all he felt the sting of his own incapacity, for he knew there was little he could do in the present to assuage Éowyn’s hurts or even find justice for them.

He knew not where nor whether this Gríma still walked the earth, whether any arm of reckoning might still be able to reach him; and even if so, if or how Faramir of Gondor might bring that about–

Faramir sucked in a sharp breath. He had pressed too hard in applying the new bandage to the cut on his chest, and it stung keenly. He sighed, directing his mind away from himself, and back to the more pressing matter at hand.

No, there was nothing Faramir could do about Gríma, though it pained him to think that the man might still walk free. All Faramir could do was to show care to Éowyn, and even in that course of action, he knew that she desired no soft words, no expressions of pity. 

He thought again to their evening’s work in the pantry, to the way her demeanor had brightened in the presence of company, to her gay description of Meduseld at the height of winter festivities, and he felt his convictions crystallize: the care she most desired was companionship, a steady presence, assurance that her revelations had not changed anything between them, that she had been alone before but she need not be alone now. And Faramir felt the heaviness lift a little, for he knew well how to show care thus. 

And now, as he finished dressing his final cut, he turned not to the usual next step in his routine– the tidying of piles upon his table, the arraying of a to-do list for the following morning– but to the pile of fresh tapers. He plucked one, lit it, and began to pen a new letter. Indeed, though the night deepened outside, though the thin crescent moon had long since slid behind Mindolluin, he resolved to work for a few more hours, so that he might have time in the morning to spare for walking in the garden and discussing herb lore and perhaps even a little training at arms.

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