Faramir stirred in his sleep, calling to his father in his delirium.  Kathena wiped tears from her eyes as she cleaned the sweat from his brow.  She didn't want to see this man who was practically a son to her die.  She reached down and stroked his fevered cheek.  What she wouldn't give to see him healthy again.
     In the great swirling mists of his fever, Faramir felt the cool touch of Kathena's fingers, but he could not respond.  He wanted to tell her that he was alright.  That he would pull through.  But, in some dark corner of his mind, Faramir knew that it wasn't true.  His despair was too great for him.
     Kathena pulled her hand away from Faramir's brow in alarm.  His fever had risen.  Where was Elrond when you needed him?  Kathena placed a cool, wet rag on Faramir's brow, knowing that it would do no good.  She began to cry again; and this time, she did not stop the tears.  Finally, she began to choke out a song.
     "Lay down, your sweet and weary head.  Night is falling.  You have come to journey's end."  Faramir heard the song and tried to pull his spirit away from the crushing oblivion of death.  "Sleep now.  Dream of the ones who came before.  They are calling, from across a distant shore.  Why do you weep?  What are these tears upon your face?"  Faramir felt his sorrow leave him.  It was unnecessary.  "Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away.  Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping."  Faramir's mind tried to grasp at this support, but he was too weak.  Kathena continued singing until her voice gave out with the last notes.  "A light on the water.  Grey ships pass into the west."  Faramir's breathing was more regular, but he was still burning with fever.  Kathena collapsed in exhaustion.  She had done what she could.  Now she needed a miracle.