**Authors Notes:
This story is a mutual endeavor. My friend Liam and I are writing it together. I write the female parts and him the male. It then gives you a look into their thoughts from both points of view. You get the 'he said she said' type of story. To write this we get into a private chat room and just go at it, tossing things back and forth. Therefore a lot of it goes from one paragraph being what she said and thought to the other paragraph behing what he said and thought. Kind of like watching a fantasy role play. I am warning you now of this so that you know why some of the tenses are different then the others (though that is being worked on) and you don't go into it thinking that it is all from one point of view and therefore 'smooth'er in the end result.
The movies didn't go a lot into the way that Faramir and Eowyn fell in love, but at the end of the last one I saw the look that passed between Faramir and Eowyn, the look of great love she had for him. So we decided to give everyone a look at why she smiled at him like she did. We both hope that you enjoy it and take it for what it is. Just a fun love story. Sorry Eowyn/Aragorn shippers, this is strictly a story for those of us die hard Eowyn/Faramir shippers.**

**Disclaimer:
The characters and events of LOTR do not belong to me. I'm making no profit from this, so please don't sue me :)**

**Summary:
This is a love story between Lord Faramir and his love, Lady Eowyn. What was it that drew them together? What was the spark that ignited their love? Read further to find out.**


Now for the story……. Love Is In The Wind

He looks out the window, looking over the city blow. It was beautiful, even if it was only just being repaired from the attack it had taken. He winces as pain runs through his shoulder and arm. He was standing in the House of Healers, having only awakened from his fever that morning. He had been gravely injured in the attack against the Dark One's forces at Osgilliath. But he had not died, like all the men that went with him. They wouldn't let him die. They had shot him with arrows and then sent him back to his father on the brink of death. And had his father even cared enough to check if he was still alive? No. He had instead deemed him dead, not worthy enough to even be granted he was alive. He had then been taken to a room where a funeral pyre was. He had heard the words his father had spoken. He was to be burned alive, as the hethen Kings of old were. He had heard every word his father had said. And it had cut him deeply. But not so much as his father's look before he caught on fire.

After Pippin the hobbit had saved him, he had laid on the floor, coming back to consciousness only because of the searing pain on his leg from the fire that had caught on the liquid that was dumped on him by his father. He had looked over and seen his father staring at him, then saying his name in disbelief before he caught fire. After that he didn't remember anything more as he had lost consciousness again. And he had not awakened till this morning. Though he had heard a voice calling him back from death. Telling him there was more he had to do before he could leave. It was a man's voice, but not that of his father's or brother's.

With a sigh he rests his head against the cool stone wall. He was tired, but he had been tired before. Being tired did not mean one needed to sleep. Now he was weak and he still had a slight fever, but he was tired of lying in the bed. He wanted to see his city, no. Not his city. The King's. Aragorn. Was he jealous? No. He loved Gondor and knew that Aragorn was what Gondor needed. Besides, as much as he loved Minas Tirith he loved the forests of Gondor much more. Something his father hated and the reason for his want to be a Ranger.

He sighs and reaches up to his shoulder, wincing as he rubs the wound there. In a few days there would be the crowning of the new king. And he would be named the new Steward of Gondor, seeing as he was the last of his family. He hears a voice behind him and turns, smiling a little as he sees one of the healers walking towards him. His smile is gone just as soon as it came when he sees what the healer carried. He shakes his head. "No, Sir. I do not need any medicine. It is foul tasting and..." But he stops as the healer gives him a look. He sighs and limps over to the bed he had vacated and sits on it again, ignoring the laughs from some other men who were in the other beds in the room. He grits his teeth and then takes his medicine, making a face as the bitter and disgusting taste passes over his tongue and flows down his throat. He coughs and winces and then lays back down as it makes a burning sensation in his stomach. This medicine was also applied to his wounds. It helped bring down his fever and also ward off infection.

He looks over at the door as it opens to reveal two young hobbits and a woman. He smiles at the three of them. Visitors were always welcome in his mind. "Good day Master Merry and Master Pippin." His eyes turn to the young woman, his smile softening. "And to you as well Lady Eowyn." He had met her before but it never ceased to amaze him just how beautiful the White Lady of Rohan, as she was called, looked to him. She looked fair and delicate but also strong and confident. Something he admired about her. She had been injured as well, so he had been told earlier by one of the men in the room. He had heard some of the story, that she had somehow killed the leader of the Nasgul. How, no one knew. They just knew she had while trying to save her uncle.

"Lord Faramir," she says softly, nodding slightly as she does almost as if in a curtsy of sorts. She was amazed at how pale he still was, though he had been with the Healers for awhile now. He must surely have been closer to death then the reports had been and that thought causes a frown to crease her perfect brow.

Her eyes fly over his body as if to take all of him in, counting his limbs, though she knew they were all there. This newfound fascination she had with the Captain of Gondor had kept her up for several nights as of late. She had once believed that her heart belonged to Aragorn, and yet for some reason she felt this gentle soul coming much closer to her then that of her precious Aragorn. It had rocked the solid ground she thought she stood on, and was the cause of her hesitant looks at the Lord now.

"We wished to come and see how you were doing. Master Pippin feared that you might not have made it through the night." Truth be told, she had also wondered. So when Pippin had asked her if she was going to see Faramir, she had jumped at the chance to go. "Praise be that his thoughts were not so, we would have lost a great warrior had it been so."

She knew little of what had happened, only the small bit that Pippin had told her. She really wanted to ask Faramir if it was true about his Father, but she didn't dare. That was something she was sure that he wished no one to know of, much less herself. And she knew that she couldn't take away the pain of what had happened if she was told the whole story, therefore she would just have to remain in the dark where that was concerned until he wished her to know the full story.

She motions to one of the chairs in the room by the window. "Minds if we sit awhile and visit? Are you up for company?" She goes to take a step backwards, shaking her head and causing one of her golden ringlets to fall free of the claps keeping her hair from her eyes, making her reach up and tuck it behind her ear in hopes of it staying this time. "We will not stay if you are not up to it, we would not want to tire you so soon upon your waking." Her face showed clearly her worry that they might indeed tax him too much. Once more it came down to his coloring, it was far too pale still to be anywhere near normal. And it causes a stirring in her gut, a worry that they would only cause him to fall ill again if they stayed too long.

He smiles as Merry and Pippin come to sit on the end of his bed. They were small enough to both fit comfortably on the end of the bed. He smiles and sits up a little more, his eyes watching Eowyn closely. "Please stay. It would help to relieve the boredom." That and it would take his mind off the burning sensation the medicine was causing in his stomach. He waits for Eowyn to sit down then watches her for a moment before he looks at Pippin who asked him how he was feeling. "Oh. My apologies. Other than having to endure the awful medicine, I am better than most. I was told some of what happened. It's mostly a blur in my mind. But I was told you, Master Pippin, were the one who saved me. I am truly in your debt. Thank you." He smiles at the young hobbit, laughing softly when he says it was nothing. "Well I am still in your debt." He looks over at Eowyn, that soft smile on his face again. "And how are you fairing, my Lady?"

She takes the seat, watching him as he speaks to the Hobbits, some of the color seemed to return to his face when he becomes animated in his speech. It must be the light, she thinks, because when he looks at her the light shifts and he looks even warmer in his cheeks. She hoped that the light would continue to warm his face, for she knew how much he needed it. "I am okay, M'Lord. I was not in as bad a peril as you were." Though she had been she would never admit it to anyone because to her she had only been doing what she always was meant to do. Stand beside her Uncle, the King, and defend Rohan. It had almost cost her her life, yet she would never regret having been there. "We are glad to see you up and talking. You have a little color back, I am sure with time you will get it all. If you allow yourself to heal," she says with a soft smile. If he were like his elder brother whom she had met briefly before, then she would doubt that he would remain in bed much longer.

He smiles at Eowyn, then looks back at the two young hobbits as they start chattering away at him. He smiles, glancing every now and then at Eowyn when she makes a comment or laughs. She had a lovely laugh. And voice. He knew he would never get tired of her voice. When finally he is able to speak again he shifts in his bed and rubs at his shoulder. "It sounds like you all had a great adventure. I am sorry I missed it." He rubs his eyes and then looks at them. "My apologies. I suppose I am not yet fully healed." He smiles as he hears a bell. Then he can't help but laugh as the two hobbits jump up, exclaiming it was finally time for lunch. He smiles and shakes his head, nodding as the two excuse themselves and run from the room. He turns his head and looks at Eowyn. "Always their stomachs come first."

She shakes her head slightly, stopping with a smile for Faramir. "Always, especially when we don't have enough suppers for them, nor breakfasts. You would think that they were starving if they missed one meal." She stands. "I should go and let you rest, we have bent your ear for too much this morning. My apologies, M'Lord Faramir."

He looks at her, frowning just a little. "Won't you stay a little longer? I am tired but that is not unusual. And I wish to hear more of your adventure. If you'll tell me." He smiles at her, another of his kind smiles, his gray eyes watching her carefully. He was lonely, he had no one to talk to really, save for the rare visitors. And the healers but they only stayed long enough to clean his wounds and give him medicine. He really did want to talk to her.

She saw that loneliness in his eyes and it tugged at her heartstrings causing her feet to change direction from the door to take her to the window. She stops there, taking a seat on the windowsill and looking over at him as she puts her hands in her lap. "If you wish, then I will stay. I would not want to be the one that puts a damper on your healing, thus causing you to be in bed longer then you should." She looks out the window, the light hitting her hair in a certain way that it seems as if it is on fire, flowing down the back of her neck in a river of fire and sparks. Though she was blind to this fact, never once thinking of herself as beautiful, only plain and simple. She didn't see what her Uncle had, she only saw the tomboy she was, and still is at times. "So much has happened in such a short time," she finally whispers, her eyes moving over to Faramir's face.

He smiles at her, shifting so he was laying down more in the bed. His back had begun to hurt again, as had his leg and shoulder. Which was why he wanted to lay down. But he does watch her. He loved the way her hair shone in the sunlight. He listens to her voice, nodding to what she says. "Yes, too much, for everyone." There was a dull pain in his eyes, one he couldn't hide even if he wanted to.

She frowns as she sees the look on his face. "You are hurting. Should I call the healers?" She gets up and walks over to the bed. "You should be laying back more, let the pillows support you more." She leans down and fluffs the pillows around him without thinking, not even noticing when she leans over him to tuck the pillows under his side and her hair falls slightly across his chest, her attention totally on getting him more comfortable.

He shivers slightly at the feel of her hair brushing against his bare chest. He can't help but smile slightly. "No. It is not physical. Though my leg still pains me. I am told it will pass eventually." He smiles more when she leans back. "Thank you, My Lady. You have looked after people before. You would make a very good healer."

She leans back a light blush touching her cheeks at his words. "And you are a charmer, Lord Faramir. I think that you have this Lady at a disadvantage. It seems you know more about me then I do you." She smiles, motioning to the door. "Should I call for some help? Or is that good enough?" She takes a few steps backwards, wanting to not be so close, feeling that put her at a safer distance then she was. She hadn't been scared of what he might do to her, but of what his being so close caught on fir in her.

He smiles at her, liking how easy it was to talk to her. "So I have been told before." He was referring to her calling him a charmer. "No, My Lady. This is very comfortable. Thank you." He gestures to the edge of the bed. "What is it you wish to know about a humble ranger from Ithilien?"

She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, straightening her skirts before resting her hands in her lap. "Ah, but you are not just a humble ranger from Ithilien, are you?" She smiles sweetly at him, liking the way that the sun played across his features. Yes, he needed more sun, it would do him good. She stands and goes to the window, pulling the curtains back a little more before turning to look at him. "You need more sun, My Lord. To bring color back to your face." She looks down shyly. "I hope you do not mind me being so forward with you." She glances almost shyly back at him, not wanting to cross any boundary.

He smiles at her as she gets up to open the window, blinking a little as the sun hits him some more. "I do not mind, My Lady. As I have said, you would make a great healer." He smiles at her, then looses it for a moment when he glances at the fire across the room. He didn't like the fire. It scared him. His dreams were all filled with fire and his father's laughing face. That and Orcs. He shivers at the thought and then turns his attention back to Eowyn. He smiles at the concerned expression on her face. She had been watching him it would seem. "And please, do not refer to me as Lord. It is far too formal."

She shakes her head, reaching up to tuck the stray tendril again behind her ear. She would have to make sure she pinned it better next time. She had often found her hair a bother, but that was because she never did act like the proper Lady. She had learned to fight alongside her Uncle and when she had gone into battle, she had done so with not only a fire in her heart, but a skill with the sword. It was one thing her Uncle had given her, her independence from men. Yet then she wondered why she was drawn to this one. He was not like the rest, she could see that.

It is with a start she realizes that he had been staring at the fire with a pain, her own eyes lost in the lines of his face and her mind lost in her own thoughts she had almost missed it. She walks back to the bed and sits carefully on it. "It is the respect you deserve," she answers lightly, suddenly wanting to reach out and caress the pain from his brow. A pain she knew would eat at him for longer then she wished any man to feel something like that.

He smiles at her and nods. "Aye but I would much rather just have all of my friends call me Faramir. It is less formal." He shifts in the bed again, sighing a little before he looks back at her. "May I ask something, Lady Eowyn? I have heard of your defeat of the Leader of the Nasgul, may I ask how it came about? I have fought Nasgul's before. They are not an easy creature to kill."

She thinks about that a moment, not to remember, for the details were things that she would never forget, but about his words on account of the other. It is that she speaks of first. "If I am to call you just Faramir, then I insist that you call me Eowyn. Agreed?" At his nod she goes on, telling him the details of the battle from the time that she had taken the small hobbit to the battlefield with her to the time of her Uncle's death. As she finally draws to a close, she can feel her eyes misty, knowing it is because of the recounting of her Uncle's death and she looks away from him, out the window, as she tries to clear her head and calm her voice.

He smiles and nods. It was a fair compromise. And he liked the sound of his name coming from her lips. He knew why. He wasn't a stupid man. He knew when he was falling in love. But he also knew no matter what he felt for her, she would never return his feelings. She loved Aragorn, or so he had been told. But still, he couldn't help his feelings. He suddenly realizes she was speaking and that brings him out of his thoughts. With a smile he listens to her story, amazed at what she tells him. He does however smile with awe. "You are indeed skilled with a sword, Eowyn. More so than I. You will have to spar with me."

He may not know it, but he had gained standing in her eyes the instant he had not scoffed at her fighting nor chided her about it. Not only that, he wished to spar with her, and that too put him high in her books. She keeps the smile from her lips barely as she looks at him through her lashes, asking him softly, "Are you sure that you would want to waste your time sparing with a woman?" She knew it wasn't nice fishing around like that, but she wanted to be certain he meant what he said. Many men would find it either intimidating or find her less a woman to have done what she did. Aragorn had been one of the few males that had found it a positive trait in her.

He smiles and nods. He would indeed enjoy sparring with her. He could tell she was a kind soul, she would not make him feel bad if he wasn't very good. Oh he could handle a sword, he was quite good, or so Boromir always told him, but he was more skilled with the bow and arrow. That was why he had become a ranger and not a soldier in his father's army. Boromir was the soldier. He comes back to himself and answers her. "You are a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. I have only heard of women like you in legend. It would be my honor to spar with you, Eowyn. My honor and pleasure, as I am sure you could teach me a thing or two."

She laughs softly, a laugh that seems to float on the warm breeze that enters through the windows to lift her hair slightly. "And you are a rare case then, Faramir. Because it is not often that a man would want to know a Shieldmaiden in person. Some rather keep them to the legend then to bring them forward, to know that they really exists. I suppose some would think of them as more of a blow to their egos then a nice afternoon of learning." He had such a lovely smile, once again she notes that as his whole face seems to light with it. His eyes had a pleasant sparkle to them as well, giving them a life of their own. And his lips, so round, she has to mentally shake herself to look away. Thoughts like that were not hers, she didn't understand them. But she knew she would have to think of them later.

He smiles again. "Rare...I doubt so. My brother was like me, though more....well it is hard to explain." And he didn't want to get into it right at the moment. The loss of his brother was far too fresh in his mind. At the thought of his brother his eyes cloud over with pain again, but it is as gone as soon as it came as he focuses on her and smiles. "As for learning, I enjoy learning. So if you can indeed teach me something, all the better for me."

She feels a blush climb up her neck to leave her cheeks flush. Not a normal woman, she was not used to compliments of the sort. It was probably because of the way she was raised and the way she now kept herself around others, men in particular. She held herself as worthy as any of them. "Now that Lord Aragorn has taken the throne, I am sure that he will take a wife. He will need a queen to help him rule." She wasn't speaking of herself, for she had had long talks with Aragorn as of late. She knew where his heart was and she wished him well in his endeavors. With this new defeat, his Lady would be safe.

He nods slowly, watching her carefully. "Yes. It is expected of him to choose a queen. As is custom." He wondered, would she be chosen? She would be a good choice. She was of noble blood, royal blood actually. And if Aragorn married Eowyn, it would join Rohan with Gondor again, if only in marriage. It would be best for both countries.

She smiles as she looks out the window at the waning light of the afternoon. "Arwen will make a lovely Queen." She turns her head to smile at him. "Don't you think?" She didn't know why she felt the need to let him in on the fact that she wasn't the one that would be Queen. It was as if she needed him to know, on some level, that she was available. That thought brings the blush back.

His eyes widen for a moment. But since she wasn't looking at him he was able to school his expression before she looked back at him. When she does, he smiles. "She will make a good queen. The people will adore her." His back was hurting again so he slowly moves into a sitting position, smiling as she moves to help him. When he is settled back against the pillows again he nods to her. "Thank you, Eowyn."

"You are more then welcome," she says with a smile. He seemed in pain to her and she was probably taxing him being there so she rises again. "I really should let you get your rest. I am sure that we will have more time to talk later, when you are not hurting so much." She turns to head towards the door, thinking that maybe she would stop by after dinner. She pauses at the door, turning to look at him again. "If you would like, I could always bring you your dinner." She motions to the table by the window. "I could have dinner with you, here." She realizes how that might sound and hurries on. "I only mean, M'Lord, that it might have been boring yet another meal trapped in here. You have never caught me to be the type to just sit around. I could get Master Pippin to eat with us as well, if you wish it."

He looks at her and nods when she gets up, watching her leave as he reaches up to scratch at his shoulder. When she turns and asks her question he instantly brightens. "I would very much enjoy that, as long as you remember to call me Faramir." He smiles at her, winking. He was tired. He just hoped he was awake when she returned.

She ducks her head slightly in response. "I am sorry, Faramir, 'twas not meant to irritate you." She knows now there was no hiding the fact that she had blushed when he winks at her, the reaction one any woman alive would have given. "Till then, I will take my leave." She nods again, then ducks out the door, leaning back against it after closing it softly. She could NOT believe she had just flirted meretricious with him, the blush fading when she hears footsteps and she quickly straightens and heads down the hall. She would make sure that his dinner was ready for him and see if Master Pippin wanted to visit as well. If he didn't, that wouldn't stop her from returning. Though she hoped that he would return with her, having noted Faramir's need for companionship, if he did not she would come back and spend the evening with him.

She heads to her rooms, having an idea that maybe a book might bring him some relief from his lonely hours. She would offer to read to him, or the book for when she wasn't there. That thought only makes her think more about him because it had sounded in her mind as if she planned to spend many hours with Faramir. She blushes as she hurries into her rooms, chiding herself on acting like a young lady, rather then the woman she was.