A New Start
Written for the New Year
The snow falling outside was pure and new, untouched. It served as a reminder to Éowyn that little in her life held the same goodness or innocence, or at least, little that she could keep pure for long.
The woman's heart ached. The fight with her husband that afternoon had been pointless. Meaningless. She could not even recall what had provoked it, which of them had begun it, whose words had wounded the other more. But now Faramir was gone, disappeared, leaving her alone in their home in Ithilien. It was late evening now, and he had not returned. And in this snow! She could not help but pace and worry.
This fighting, these petty arguments – they were a new development in their marriage, and Éowyn did not yet know how to handle them. She was so new to sharing love, married not yet a year. She did not understand how they could feel such strong passion and tenderness towards each other, and yet still get tangled up in bitter feelings and crossing words. And above all, she did not know how they could move forward.
The snow continued to fall outside, working its transforming magic on all it touched, falling too peaceful for the turmoil Éowyn felt inside her heart. A few tears, hot and burning, trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away fiercely, ashamed at her vulnerability.
"Please, Faramir, come home," she whispered, pleading.
Time seemed to pass without moving as she stood there her hands pressed against the glass window, peering out into the gathering darkness that was illuminated only by the reflections off the snow. Would he come back? And when he did, what would she say to him? How could she make things right?
After what seemed like an age, a noise behind her caused her to start. She had fallen into a reverie, almost asleep. The candle she had placed on the windowsill was burning to the quick, and wax had melted onto the mahogany wood.
"It is late, my wife, you should be in bed," Faramir's voice came out of the darkness, and Éowyn felt her knees buckle in relief. She turned to face him, knowing that every feeling she had gone through this evening would be written on her face. She did not care.
She raised her eyes to meet his own, and inhaled a shaky breath. Where were you? she wanted to cry accusingly, but could not form the words, try as she might. Faramir, taking one look at her face, moved to take her in his strong arms, pressing her close. "Ah, my love, what are these tears?"
His wife trembled and found herself crying silently into his shoulder as he stroked her hair. "Forgive me, Éowyn, I should not have left like I did. It was childish to walk away," he murmured in her ear.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, except for making me worry, you dolt," she managed through her tears, gripping his shoulders tightly with her hands. "It was my fault, for leaving those letters when I should have been addressing them, and for letting the house go to mayhem, and yelling at the cook, and - "
"Hush, my dear one. It is not your fault. Cooped up here as you have been lately, there is no wonder that you of all people would get testy."
"But I should not have taken it out on you!"
"Nay, the fault is mine. I daresay I deserved it for provoking you and telling you that you were a disaster at housekeeping."
"But I am!" Éowyn let out a hiccup, and bit her lip in frustration as fresh tears started to well up behind her eyes. "I have failed you as a wife."
"Nay," Faramir said, his voice wry with amusement. Patiently, he led her over to the hearth opposite the window, in which a fire was burning brightly, and sat down in the chair. Pulling her into his lap, he said, "Only as a housekeeper."
She sniffed and looked on the verge of crying again, and he wiped the smile off of his face and sobered, repositioning so he could look into her eyes. "Come now, sweet. I did not marry you because I thought you could keep house. Indeed, I knew that you couldn't. I married you because I wanted you for a wife, and," he kissed her shoulder tenderly. "As a wife, you have certainly done me quite well."
Éowyn, as if in a daze, wrapped her arms around his neck and melded herself against this man she loved, never wanting to be held apart from him again. "Why do you have to be so damnedly, infuriatingly wonderful?" she murmured in mock fury. He chuckled and kissed her hair, her ear, and finally her neck, letting his lips linger there tantalizingly.
"Perhaps you bring out the best in me, my love."
This started her to tears again, and he pulled back to brush his hands over her cheeks. "What is it now?"
She shook her head. "I don't know how that could be. I feel that in the past few weeks, I have made such a mess of our marriage, our love and I don't know how or why." Her lips trembled. "How do we sort things out? How do we go back to the way it was?"
Faramir sighed and drew her close, tucking her head underneath his chin. "We cannot go back. We can only try to move forward together, in a new start." He thought for a moment. "I have something that I found today that I thought to show you." Setting her away from him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single white flower. "It's a little crushed now, but – "
Éowyn gasped as she saw it. "Where did you find that in the dead of winter?" she asked curiously, reaching out her pale fingers to pluck the flower from his own and examine it.
"A whole patch of them, blooming tucked away beneath a cedar tree where they were protected from the snow. They have somehow survived the frost," Faramir explained.
"How?"
"I do not know," he replied honestly. "But when I saw these flowers, I thought of you. Of us."
Éowyn, awed as she was, did not fully understand. "What do you mean?"
"I think what you must come to understand is that our love must go through difficult times as well as joyful times," Faramir began, taking her hands and looking into the clear grey eyes he adored. "But our love is resilient, and it will endure. Even through the storms, if we take care to cultivate it." He pulled her head gently down into a kiss.
"And we will, my love, we will."
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[A/N: Wishing you all a wonderful Yule and a fresh start this coming near - if you need it.
Xox,
the Girlbird.]