Betrayed By Fate
By Voldie on Varsity Track

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings or anything in it, but I wish I owned Faramir. Sadly, I do not. The idea came from Five Things that Never Happened to Faramir and Éowyn, a collection of drabbles by Altariel that can be found on this site. I have her permission to post my vignette. I am not making any money off this lame excuse for a fanfiction. Before you ask… yes, I wrote Faramir's poem.

Warning: There will be character deaths, a battle scene, and angst. This is not a happy story, so do not flame or whine to me because I did not warn you. Flames are welcome for other reasons, but not because "Christie didn't warn me."

Update (30/04/05I edited this because I put two quotes from The Return of the King in here, and I wasn't about to have my account removed. It's not like anyone cares anyway. And thank you for all your reviews. :)

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Time halted. Naught could be heard, not even their own breath, nor the rustle of dead, crinkled leaves in the ancient garden behind them, and the foul wind howled ferociously. Faramir and Éowyn stood on the wall, looking out on the bleak, dismal land before them, and their hands met and clasped. An immense wave of shadow rose and enveloped the cold fields and mountains of Gondor, and Éowyn shuddered.

"Westernesse," Faramir whispered. "My heart tells me that Darkness Unescapable has come again."

"Nay, Faramir," she answered, glancing at the fiery east, searching for a sign of hope that would never come. "Perhaps not."

Before Faramir could respond, the Nazgûl shrieked and all lights went out, leaving the world and everyone in it without anticipation of victory. The unquenchable fire of Orodruin was the only light that could be seen. "Nay, Éowyn. Darkness has come, and so shall it be until the ending of the world."

Soon after Faramir and Éowyn returned to their separate chambers in the Houses of Healing, it was learned from a few soldiers of Gondor who managed to escape the onslaught that the Ringbearer had not fulfilled his quest, and now naught could be done to delay the end. Éowyn did not wish to hear more, but Faramir still went to the walls, pondering what could be done. And Éowyn, wishing to see Faramir once more, joined him.

"The Lord Aragorn has passed away, or so the people are saying," Faramir said, bowing his head a little. "It grieves me that the last of a line of kings has departed, but such things do not matter in these gloomy days. Now there are no men and women, nor kings and peasants, only those who submit to the will of the Dark Lord or flee for their lives and the valiant who choose to fight for an impossible cause until the end."

"And what do you choose, lord?"

"I choose to fight even though hope is lost. I am resolved to resist malevolence and protect those I love."

"But soon you shall have none to protect, nor anyone whom you love dearly. I too shall not stand in the Houses and watch the onslaught like a helpless child. I shall fight when the time comes, but I know not when that shall be."

"The armies of Mordor and Harad are preparing for war, Éowyn, and they have retreated for a while. I do not doubt that they are preparing for the dominion of the Dark Lord, complete domination and the enslavement or demise of the free peoples. But his armies are already strong, and the Ring is now in his possession; sending the armies of Gondor to fight him, as I was counselled to do, is naught but foolishness. Arms cannot achieve victory, nor can it be achieved by negotiations. We must wait for the stroke of doom."

"Lord Faramir, is it not true that Isildur cut the Ring from Sauron's finger? Perhaps victory can be won by arms."

"Nay, lady, it cannot. His armies grow by the day, and Mordor is not left defenceless. It would be folly to send our men into war; we are outnumbered, and even if the deed were managed, do you not think that yet another man would be driven to madness because of that wretched thing?" Faramir paused and looked away, and at length spoke again. "The Ring turned my brother into a madman."

Éowyn knew not what to say. "I am sorry, my lord."

"Do not be!" Faramir insisted, looking at Éowyn once more. "Boromir was a great man, but he was too proud and it led him to his downfall. But many now are like Boromir; they would use the Ring for themselves as Frodo has done, and then they would be doomed. Whether we wield a Ring of Power or not makes no difference. There is no escape to be found."

"So there is naught that I can do while I await the inevitable end? Are there no deeds to be done?"

"Only one, Éowyn," Faramir said, taking her hands in his. "It would ease my heavy heart if you would spend time with me as you have before. Just seeing you has brought me both joy and sadness, but mostly joy. Will you do this for me?"

"Yes, lord," she answered. "But naught could make either you or I joyful. The world is too dark."

"But there is still light, though it grows fainter every day. We survived for this long, we have lives, and we have each other! Is that not enough to lighten your heart a little? I do not want to see you despair again, Éowyn, no matter what predicament we are in! Am I not worthy of your love?"

"You are worthy of my love, Faramir. And I do not wish to face the end alone, waiting and preparing for the inevitable. I merely wish to spend my last moments in your arms, lost in a reverie of days past and a love that cannot be."

"The days of this world are coming to an end, but that does not mean that my love for you shall," Faramir said. "Mithrandir always used to say, 'all we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us.' I have done all I could to keep Darkness Unescapable at bay, but the strength and valour of men have failed. At this moment, if I were granted the choice of many pleasures to enjoy in these final hours, I would choose you, my Éowyn."

Éowyn smiled grimly and drew closer to him. "It will be harder for me to face the beginning of the end when I at last have someone to live for. And now, at this inopportune time, I realise that I love you."

"That is well, for I have loved you since I first saw you. I once pitied your sorrow, but now I do not offer you pity, just my love."

"But love cannot save us; it cannot keep evil at bay. My passing will only be more painful now that I cannot be with you!"

"But we are not bound to this world after death," Faramir pulled her close and she claimed the kiss. "We shall never be parted, Éowyn."

"And even if it were possible, I would not allow it," she smiled as if comforted by his words and rested her golden head on Faramir's chest. "Nothing could take me away from the only one I have ever loved."

Faramir held her close, wishing that time could freeze and he could be stuck in this moment forever. "No matter what may happen, I shall not allow this darkness to take away my dignity. I also may lose my life, but I refuse to lose the love of my life."

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Every day that passed brought more rain, clouds, and ominous, heavy fog. It appeared that each day and night that passed became darker as the weeks went on. All hearts darkened, and many from the White City, it was said, turned their frightened eyes from the east and fled westward across the plains and mountains, hoping to escape from the one thing they could not escape from. Faramir and Éowyn, however, remained in the Houses. The Lord and his Lady spent almost all of their time in each other's company, sometimes walking in the gardens, or oft standing on the wall, looking out upon the desolate, blackened land, saying naught at all but basking in the pleasure of a love that knew no bounds.

And Faramir and Éowyn regularly sat under a weeping willow in the garden, reminiscing about happier days, days when the sun shone and there was hope of happier times. Faramir oft would speak of Númenor and its bleak downfall long ago, and Éowyn would listen intently to the tales and lays he read. It seemed to Faramir that they somehow comforted her to know that they were not the only ones who had to see such times.

Alas! The hopes of men have failed
The halls are filled with haunting wails
Of those doomed to gather and wait
Bound by wishes, betrayed by fate.

"Did you write that?" Éowyn asked, handing the piece of parchment back to Faramir, who nodded and put it in his pocket. "It is beautiful, yet so true! Oh, it pains me to brood on what could have been! Faramir, if it were not for this rising darkness, we could wed. We could have a garden and a home, perhaps a home full of children! But all hopes of happier days are gone, and we have truly been betrayed by fate."

"Betrayed?" he looked at her quizzically. "Yes, in a sense, but I would not consider it betrayal, Éowyn," he said. "Nay, fate has not betrayed us if it led me to you."

They sat for a while in silence until the noise of war drums echoed off the mountains in the west and the sun shone no more. Éowyn gasped and clung to Faramir, not wanting the last peace in Middle-earth to end, though she knew it must. The City had been surrounded by orcs.

"What is it, my love? Are you well?"

Éowyn shook her head vigorously. "The end has come at last, Faramir!"

"Come, Éowyn, we must find some sort of weapon. I shall not be defeated willingly."

He helped her rise, and together they sprinted to the Houses, but that they were deserted, save several badly wounded soldiers who had arms, but no hope of fighting. They dashed up a flight of stairs to the armoury, and Faramir hastily opened the door and grabbed the only swords they could find; two blunt, ancient, and chipped swords that must have been useful long ago.

Éowyn stared at hers. "It is not a good blade, but it must suffice."

"Does the blade truly matter? We cannot win this fight."

"That I know," she said, laying the sword on an old table. "Will you not hold me in your arms as I wished?"

"Yes, love," he said, kissing her gently and wrapping his arms around her. Again, they said nothing but simply let their minds wander. They were oblivious to the thunderous roar of the war drums, for they were lost in a reverie of each other, only desiring a swift end and a timeless life after it. But the drums became louder, and the screams of the soldiers downstairs rang through their ears, never ceasing. The orcs' footsteps became deafening as they trudged up the stairs.

"I would have loved you endlessly," Faramir mused.

"You already have, Faramir. This is all I haveever wanted, and I would not spend these moments in any other way," she murmured, reaching for her sword. "The end is not so unbearable when I am with you. I love you, Faramir."

"I love you too, Éowyn," he said, kissing her for the last time and eventually letting her go. "Remember that."

Éowyn wiped the tears from her eyes. "I will remember, in this life and the next."

The door crashed down and orcs spilled in, running this way and that, hacking at them with their poisonous blades of wrath. The Lord and Lady held their ground, but their weapons were no use against the orcs. Faramir's blade snapped, and she knew he had fallen. At the same time, Éowyn had been cornered by more orcs than she could handle, and with a rapid motion of his gnarled hand, one of them thrust his stinging rapier into her stomach.

"Git out, you scumbags," the orc captain growled. "Leave 'em to rot, boys."

They shuffled out of the chamber, and Éowyn, cradling her copiously bleeding wound, fell to the ground.

"Betrayed by fate, we have been betrayed by fate…" she thought as she lay dying on the cold stone floor of the armoury, lost to all sense of feeling. Breathing heavily, he mustered up the last of her quickly diminishing strength and rolled onto her side, searching for some trace of the one she wished to see in her final moments. The tears freely flowed from her clouded grey eyes; Faramir was nowhere in sight, and she did not have the strength to call for him. Instead, he called for her, and not from the world of shadow and despair he left behind.

"Come home, Éowyn," a voice from the sky whispered. "Come home and see what destiny has prepared for us, my love…"

Looking up, Éowyn saw a pale mist rise above her, spreading out to all corners of the formerly gloomy room. Faramir appeared, stretching out his hand to her, calling her name. She felt the last of her strength leave her, and she smiled at the thought of what death had given her: an eternity of love. Nay, she admitted at last, they had not been betrayed by fate.