Rating: mild as you get
Summary: Faramir is suffering. Eowyn acts as any wife would in the same situation.
Source: LoTR/AU sorta thing
Disclaimer: They're not my characters. They just turned up and demanded a fic and wouldn't go away until I'd written one.
He couldn’t go on like this for much longer. The pain and torment would be the end of him. Every ounce of strength had been spent and now there was nothing left.
His sight was becoming bleary, soon it would fade forever. His breaths were short, ragged and painful.
For a moment he dwelt on his lineage, thought of his ancestors and the noble deaths they had suffered.
Then sorrowing, he turned to his wife, taking her hand one last time.
‘I am dying, my love…’
Eowyn gave him one of her sternest looks.
‘Rubbish, Faramir. It’s just a sniffle.’