I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's wonderful works or translations. Neither his translation of The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun or his LOTR stories are mine.
Brynhild- Éowyn
Sigurd- Aragorn
Gudrún- Arwen
Gunnar- Faramir
~The Lay of the Völsungs~
Long was she waiting,
Daughter of Ódin,
Cursed to sleeping
And sworn to an oath.
Only the fearless,
Brightest, best warrior
Could ever claim her-
Through flames he must go!
And Éowyn waited, her days clouded by ever darkening shadows from the East. The foul one that controlled her dearest uncle persisted in seeking to own her. She was a proud daughter of the Riddermark however, whatever any worm might say, and refused to yield in the slightest. It was hard, though, and one day- in front of everyone- she swore to marry only the finest warrior. The bravest, who would dare test the very fires of Mordor. That kept that filth from any official designs, at least.
Yes, long was she waiting,
Fairest of warriors!
Strongest of walls
Enclosed her brave heart.
Only the one man,
The finest of fighters,
Kindest of kings,
Would capture her care.
She could breathe again, everyone could. Rohan itself seemed newer, brighter, cleaner than before. And there was one who came, a great warrior. Not the greatest though, not yet. He could be- ah, yes, she could see it, he would be. A King among kings. Aiding his cause was the fact that he heeded her council. That he understood her battle-lust, after being forced to sleep in the suffocating subservience for so long.
An oath Sigurd swore,
To fulfill her vowing,
A warrior King, great,
And healer beside.
Brynhild then claiming,
Queen for his country,
Once dark flames finally
Defeated and dead.
Aragorn…that name echoed in her long sleep. A name from long forgotten kings of a time thought dead. The legends truly were coming to life.* And this one promising her heart's desire, freely, and valuing her as more than a trophy. A healer, a fighter, a king, a friend, a- and she smiled, smiled for the first time in a long while for true happiness- a future lover. Aye, her future husband.
Brynhild delighted,
These words ever waited!
Yet grave were her thoughts,
Dark was the future,
Brynhild feared king's daughter
To claim Sigurd her own!
Warned then she Sigurd,
To trust not freely!
Happiness in such times as these, Éowyn would never have imagined. Here it was though, hers for the taking. Yet a dark thought came, and there was one other. He was free, he said. There was no other. Still, her dreams had ever guided her well, and this foreboding would not leave. A warning she gave Aragorn as he rode away from her to fulfill her requirements. Do not trust. Do not trust the old eyes. Forget me not was left unspoken.
Renowned was won,
A kingdom restored.
Great was the feasting,
With many lays sung.
Brynhild was waiting!
Then came the fey child,
Dark-eyed, dark-glancing,
Fair, pale, and lovely!
The war was over. Over! Victory came, and if Rohan had felt light after that cleansing of Wormtongue, the world floated now in comparison. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before her warrior-healer came to claim her. Something in her dreams warned her. There was a wrong somewhere, and she knew it. Where it was, she could not tell or say. Until she found that Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, had bewitched her King. And that they were married.
Gunnar sought bride,
Sigurd would aid him.
Riding through flames,
Disguised as Gunnar.
Kingship he claimed,
Gold and glory,
Vow fulfilling,
Brynhild was his.
It was duty and fulfillment of her vow. Or so they claimed. The glory was not Faramir's! It was Aragorn who won the kingdom, Aragorn who was the healer! But she was caught again, caught in a net so fine she had not seen it until too late, a net so strong and heavy she could not move. Suffocating in sleep again.
And darkly she pondered,
Bright-eyed Brynhild,
Sleep-freed Valkrie,
Now wife of Gunnar
Through falsehood betrayed!
Sigurd desired,
To Gunnar given,
Gudrún she hated.
Faramir. He was not Aragorn. Perhaps an unfair thought, but it was the only thought that connected with her now-husband. Aragorn had forgotten her, broken his vow. Arwen was ever at his side, and Éowyn wished dearly that they would allow her a sword, just for one moment. Elf maiden or no, it was in the wild Rohirrim blood of Éowyn's to fight for what was rightfully hers. Except she was Faramir's now. He was NOT her Aragorn.
Gunnar must die,
Sigurd be slain,
Gudrún forsaken
For Brynhild's honor.
From sleep awakened
By faithless Sigurd!
His death awakened,
And many beside.
There was madness in the Steward's line, all knew it. It truly would not be difficult to make people believe it. Éowyn would not be captive. It may be her duty and oath that brought her here, but no one ever said that she must stay. A wild thing must either die or be free. They would not let her die, so she would make her own freedom. One way or another.
Gunnar slew Sigurd,
Brightest of warriors!
Slain in dark night
At Brynhild's bidding.
Gunnar was killed
By kin's retribution,
Gudrún-Fey widow,
Witless to wander.
Indeed. They wanted her to learn healing and herb-lore. It was not difficult, truly, to give a few herbs. And so! Faramir slew Aragorn, and Faramir was killed by Arwen's brothers. Arwen was driven mad by the loss. Éowyn felt no pity for the one who had taken her King.
Vengeance completed,
Brynhild lay dying.
Lost was her warrior,
Dead her King!
Of life bereft,
Love bereaved,
Love forsaken,
Love betrayed.
And now she was alone. Alas for the line of Elendil! Alas for Gondor! Echoing through the streets. She cared not. Dying. Would dying be more freeing than the life she could have had with Aragorn? She knew not. Her heart hurt at the thought of what could have been. It was not fair, she thought as she faded. It just was not fair…
The Lay of the Völsungs
Now is completed.
Fell was the tale,
Despair the end.
Now was the coming
Of worse days after.
Betrayal, murder,
Sigmund's line dead!
*Paraphrased from Tolkien, The Two Towers.
This tale of mine works best if you know at least a little bit about Sigurd and co. Also, this is AU for both worlds. The "lay" parts are mine own, in a really bad attempt to copy the Old English sort of style, as inspired by The Lay of the Völsungs. To explain my universe, Aragorn did not meet Arwen until after his suicidal charge at Mordor. He and Éowyn truly loved each other...or not, depending on how you look at it. Anyway, as in the tale Sigurd/Aragorn is bewitched or somehow made to forget his promise to Brynhild, which doesn't go over well. At all.
For the record, I am a total FaramirxÉowyn and AragornxArwen person. But I had this idea of how much Brynhild reminded me of Éowyn and it just went from there, so please do not hate me for that. It is AU for a reason, remember. I am thinking about an alternative with Arwen's perspective, but it may or may not happen.