Disclaimer: I don't think I could handle owning LoTR. I would never get anything else done. Heh.
Author's Note: This is, like I said in the summary, a VERY short vignette about Eowyn and Faramir. It's the first fic I've done in a long while, so be completely honest with me. It's set in the scene (because I write everything from the movie 'cause I'm a loser) where they stand on the balcony of the Houses of Healing and talk. Now I'm not quite sure of the time of day, but I set my piece just before dawn. And um, hope you like. R&R, please!
Death was the murderer of hearts that leapt in dawn, and eyes that saw the future.
A touch of a hand that seemed so gentle and sincere to her, was a hand that was used to grip a sword in war. Sweet lips that spoke in Spring-song, were lips that commanded men to their deaths. A look from eyes that were her safe haven, these had seen destruction and despair.
So standing on the brink of the world's ending, it was difficult to enjoy simple pleasures such as an embrace. His strong arms that had held his soldiers while life spilled from them with wide open wounds, now held her while she thought she would drown in the reality that tomorrow may never come.
It was not yet dawn. It was the moment where yesterday's chill ebbed to morning's newness but still so very strong. Her eyes searched the Eastern horizon for some sign of hope, but she did not look long; she feared the forboding of the dark clouds that hid the sun and veiled the stars. The pain of battle was still fresh behind her eyes and grew into a distrust of everything around her. If she could remain distant, it would not matter if it fell before her feet.
Yet he was patient. Like she, he could not quite believe that such a powerful and determined warrior could be so innocent and fragile. Pale skin that he prayed would not be scarred by evil swords and petite body that he hoped would not cripple or deteriorate from the spoils of war. He was pleased just be so near to her, she was after all, a goddess in his eyes.
All the comfort he could give was in taking her hand and an available shoulder for her to lean upon. He watched the dawn with reverence. In his heart, he knew that in time, they would avail. He understood this because he had seen the hope of a future, of peace, in her eyes. He was no stranger to the chaos and malice held in the dark abyss. Once or twice he'd nearly fell headlong into it, and this time around, he thought he would not be able to hold on. Then she came, and unbeknowst to herself, lifted him up.
In an unspoken vow, he swore to be strong for her. So that perhaps she would let down the walls she'd been building for years, and he could discover what was truly inside. The little fragments that he saw when their gazes met was beautiful, and made him believe that everything else would be likewise, glorious and admirable.
They stood just there on the edge, watching the world rise or fall. They spoke words that meant everything and nothing to them. Deathly afraid of losing themselves, and more than that of losing each other. All at once, the pain and sadness that hounded them waned for a while.
His hand touched hers, and in an act of trust, she took his. Stepping back from the abyss, he smiled down at her. Their fingers intertwined and they drew closer. Her head found his chest and their arms crossed, holding, embracing. For a moment, time paused and everything settled. Hope reignited, but more than that, love kindled in their hearts, that could now beat as one.
Life ended and began all over again. With new eyes and new hearts, they could watch the dawn.