Pictures Of You

Characters: Aragorn, Éowyn, Aragorn

Warning: Angst; Hurt, no comfort. Maybe a bit AU/mingling of book!verse&movie!verse.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of it. The song belongs to Robert Smith. The characters belong to JRR Tolkien and his heirs. No money gained by this, only fun.

I've been looking so long at these pictures of you

That I almost believe they are real

I've been looking so long at these pictures of you

That I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel

There he was. Tall, dark, lean. Darker than most Rohirrim at any rate. A stranger to her land.

There he was, looking at her, smiling. He came toward her, and she opened her arms and ran in his direction. She laughed and cried as his arms enfolded her. He held her tight, and she could feel the beating of his heart. She grabbed him around the waist and finally their lips and mouths melted into a kiss she wished would never end.

But then she woke up.

Remembering you fallen into my arms

Crying for the death of your heart

He.

He came here, and my sister wasn't herself anymore. She didn't sleep, she didn't eat, I heard her cry in the night. She rode into battle to impress him. Him, the warrior. The fighter. Her "hero".

And now she's battling death in the Houses of Healing, and he of all people is trying to restore her.

The irony of it.

You were snow white, so delicate, lost in the dark

You were always so lost in the dark

Aragorn was sitting at Éowyn's bedside. He looked at her icy, pale face, at the bruises and cuts, at a tiny speck of crusted blood behind her temple which he hadn't been able to remove.

He had seen this face on Pelennor Fields. He had seen her slay the Witch King. He remembered her words and her strength – fighting till death for those she loved.

She would have done the same for me.

He laid a hand on her small hands folded across her body. They were burning, as was her whole body. And yet her face was so pale.

What do you see in me?

Not that he didn't feel honoured by it, but. He shook his head as if to get rid of the thought. Then he leaned over her carefully and kissed her brow.

Sleep, fair Lady of Rohan. Better times will come.

If only I'd thought of the right words

I could have held on to your heart

I could have kept her from it. I should have spoken. I saw the change in her, but I never had the heart to confront her about it. We are not given the power of wielding words with ease.

My sister. My little sister. When I looked upon her face in the Houses of Healing, I saw that face twenty years ago, looking up at me, smiling brightly. She had fooled the guards again and gone somewhere forbidden. She always had her own way.

If only I'd thought of the right words

How do you tell someone you love him?

How do you tell a person you cannot love them back?

Didn't I make it obvious?

I honour you, Fair Lady. Few men would have withstood the foe which you fought so bravely. Yet you deserve to be loved by a man better, and more fitting, than I am.

What is wrong with me?

There is nothing wrong with you, Fair Lady. I am the one in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Why can't I get what I want? I never got what I wanted. And I never will.

You have glorious days – years – before you. Don't set your heart on the meandering trail of a Ranger, on the weakened blood of Númenor.

I wouldn't be breaking apart

I see your face before me. I know every line, every muscle, every movement. You do not laugh or smile often. I wish I could make you. I wish I could reach you. I can break your defenses with a sword and fight you to exhaustion, but with words I am awkward.

All my pictures of you

Aragorn got up and straightened himself. He felt for the pendant on his neck and gripped it. Warm metal.

Arwen. Evenstar.

He looked at Éowyn's face again and closed his eyes. Tiny wet spots appeared between his lashes. He turned away and went towards his tent, now only longing for rest and sleep.

We are much more alike than you know.