Éowyn Nimbeinaith
Éowyn: the Fair White Spear
I don't own any of the characters or story, except for the bits I made up. Mingled with my work is [paraphrased] Tolkien, to make it seem more fic than fan-fic. I have put two parts of the story on every page, so as to keep it simple.
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Prologue
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Morning slid through the crevices of the White Mountains. Three horses approached the gates of Edoras. Gríma entered the royal chambers to enchant and awake the slumbering king.
Éowyn stirred and awoke. She ate a silent breakfast and took her place at Théoden's side even as the four travellers argued at the doors. She caught a phrase: ". . .even were it a woodman's cot. . ." and her heart leapt. So long had she hungered for that voice! She had seen him once before, just a fleeting look that had stirred her soul and awakened her heart.
And yet even that moment of joy was marred by the sly glances of Gríma Wormtongue, but for whom her brother would be avenging the death of Théodred at the Fords of Isen.
The doors opened.
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Part 1: A Touch
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Théoden was cured! Gríma was banished! Éomer was free! And Aragorn was here, at last!
Éowyn was never the jealous type - she remained quiet in defeat and rejection. Yet even her sweet soul was aching for a broadsword and a chance at that Elf-girl. The king's niece had heard Gandalf speaking to Aragorn as she brought round the food before the toasts.
"Elrond is sure to be satisfied by now," said the wizard.
"Nay, Gandalf - he wants the crown, sceptre and Sauron's destruction. I have none of these things." Éowyn wondered at Aragorn's words.
"And yet-"
"Yet nothing. Thingol wanted a Silmaril, for he set Lúthien above all jewels. If Elrond wants just those three victories, he shall be selling Arwen as cheaply as his great-great-grandsire did his own daughter."
"I suppose Elf-princesses are harder to find these days." Gandalf shrugged.
Éowyn was a little confused by Aragorn's last remarks. Who the hell was Thingol? One thing was clear, and that was that Aragorn had to triumph over everything to marry an Elven lord's daughter. All the same, the toasts had to be made.
"Ferthu Théoden hal!" Hail lord Théoden.
As she passed the goblet to Aragorn, her hand trembled. Perhaps they would touch! They did, and Éowyn neared tears of joy. She could sense his gaze on her as she turned, but knew that he had become suddenly aware of her.
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Part Two: Upon the Balcony of Edoras
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While Meduseld and Edoras prepared for battle, Éowyn ventured out onto a high balcony, where she was joined by Aragorn.
"Please," he said softly. "Don't speak. It cannot be. My heart lies in Imladris. I have come to far to end my quest like this. . ."
Éowyn stared at the city below. "Imladris is an Elven settlement, is it not? How could one of our people - Men, that is - join with an, an Elf?" Eavesdropping is not a desirable quality in any one. Knowledge of the world, on the other hand, is.
Aragorn smiled. "I said to my friend, who asked of your people, that you were 'wise, but unlearned'. I was hasty, but meant no offence, my lady." Éowyn's heart fluttered. He had called her 'my lady'!
"And yet, that question was also asked by the one accounted wisest on Middle-Earth, the elf's father. I must conquer to win her hand. And when the time for either triumph or defeat is so near, I cannot change my mind - not when I have come so far."
"Indeed, lord," said Éowyn. "Yet, what if you fail, and fall from grace in the eyes of the Elves? Who then will you turn to, if you cannot have your princess?"
"I know not." Aragorn turned and went back down the steps. Before he vanished from sight, he turned back towards Éowyn.
"I know what you would say, were you so bold. You would bid me return to Rohan, and my heart too tells me to do so, saving much pain to all Elf-kin. To my body in the wars. All the same, I cannot turn back. Though I cannot deny that I-"
His earnest, still-uncertain words were cut short by a call from the lower battlements. "I must go, Lady, to my doom if 'tis my fate. Farewell."
"Fare thee well, my lord. 'Tis not to thy doom, not yet. Indeed I foresee that thou shall live long after this day. Farewell."
And he was gone.
Éowyn: the Fair White Spear
I don't own any of the characters or story, except for the bits I made up. Mingled with my work is [paraphrased] Tolkien, to make it seem more fic than fan-fic. I have put two parts of the story on every page, so as to keep it simple.
-----------------
Prologue
-----------------
Morning slid through the crevices of the White Mountains. Three horses approached the gates of Edoras. Gríma entered the royal chambers to enchant and awake the slumbering king.
Éowyn stirred and awoke. She ate a silent breakfast and took her place at Théoden's side even as the four travellers argued at the doors. She caught a phrase: ". . .even were it a woodman's cot. . ." and her heart leapt. So long had she hungered for that voice! She had seen him once before, just a fleeting look that had stirred her soul and awakened her heart.
And yet even that moment of joy was marred by the sly glances of Gríma Wormtongue, but for whom her brother would be avenging the death of Théodred at the Fords of Isen.
The doors opened.
----------------
Part 1: A Touch
-----------------
Théoden was cured! Gríma was banished! Éomer was free! And Aragorn was here, at last!
Éowyn was never the jealous type - she remained quiet in defeat and rejection. Yet even her sweet soul was aching for a broadsword and a chance at that Elf-girl. The king's niece had heard Gandalf speaking to Aragorn as she brought round the food before the toasts.
"Elrond is sure to be satisfied by now," said the wizard.
"Nay, Gandalf - he wants the crown, sceptre and Sauron's destruction. I have none of these things." Éowyn wondered at Aragorn's words.
"And yet-"
"Yet nothing. Thingol wanted a Silmaril, for he set Lúthien above all jewels. If Elrond wants just those three victories, he shall be selling Arwen as cheaply as his great-great-grandsire did his own daughter."
"I suppose Elf-princesses are harder to find these days." Gandalf shrugged.
Éowyn was a little confused by Aragorn's last remarks. Who the hell was Thingol? One thing was clear, and that was that Aragorn had to triumph over everything to marry an Elven lord's daughter. All the same, the toasts had to be made.
"Ferthu Théoden hal!" Hail lord Théoden.
As she passed the goblet to Aragorn, her hand trembled. Perhaps they would touch! They did, and Éowyn neared tears of joy. She could sense his gaze on her as she turned, but knew that he had become suddenly aware of her.
----------------
Part Two: Upon the Balcony of Edoras
----------------
While Meduseld and Edoras prepared for battle, Éowyn ventured out onto a high balcony, where she was joined by Aragorn.
"Please," he said softly. "Don't speak. It cannot be. My heart lies in Imladris. I have come to far to end my quest like this. . ."
Éowyn stared at the city below. "Imladris is an Elven settlement, is it not? How could one of our people - Men, that is - join with an, an Elf?" Eavesdropping is not a desirable quality in any one. Knowledge of the world, on the other hand, is.
Aragorn smiled. "I said to my friend, who asked of your people, that you were 'wise, but unlearned'. I was hasty, but meant no offence, my lady." Éowyn's heart fluttered. He had called her 'my lady'!
"And yet, that question was also asked by the one accounted wisest on Middle-Earth, the elf's father. I must conquer to win her hand. And when the time for either triumph or defeat is so near, I cannot change my mind - not when I have come so far."
"Indeed, lord," said Éowyn. "Yet, what if you fail, and fall from grace in the eyes of the Elves? Who then will you turn to, if you cannot have your princess?"
"I know not." Aragorn turned and went back down the steps. Before he vanished from sight, he turned back towards Éowyn.
"I know what you would say, were you so bold. You would bid me return to Rohan, and my heart too tells me to do so, saving much pain to all Elf-kin. To my body in the wars. All the same, I cannot turn back. Though I cannot deny that I-"
His earnest, still-uncertain words were cut short by a call from the lower battlements. "I must go, Lady, to my doom if 'tis my fate. Farewell."
"Fare thee well, my lord. 'Tis not to thy doom, not yet. Indeed I foresee that thou shall live long after this day. Farewell."
And he was gone.