Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate.
Betrothed
The first time Aragorn met Eowyn he was nearly ten. He watched the newborn wail loudly, kicking her coverlet as she flailed about, face turning red. He did not have much experience with babies and shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His uncertainty escaped by way of a frown when his mother whispered in his ear:
"Is she not pretty? Your future queen."
Crossing his arms, he simply wished to leave this boring ceremony to return to playing with Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, and Arwen (he considered them the brothers and sister he did not have).
The second time Aragorn and Eowyn met he was fourteen and she four. He accepted the bundle wrapped in a blanket from his grim-faced father just returned home, who then exchanged low words with Gandalf hovering by the king's shoulder. Bracing the blanket against his chest, Aragorn peeked down at the quiet child, thumb in her mouth, cheeks stained with dirt and tears, wide grey eyes gazing back at him, her body trembling.
It was later he and Gilraen learned from Arathorn that Eowyn was the only one of her family who survived the assassination. She would remain with them in Gondor until she came of age and married Aragorn. While he felt pity for the orphaned child, Aragorn was displeased being reminded of what they were to each other. So he spent even more time with Legolas and the twins, his brothers-in-arms, and Arwen, whom he viewed much more than as a sister now.
The encounters between Aragorn and Eowyn were few and far between, they viewing each other with indifference when their paths did cross. The child rarely smiled, taking in everything with a hint of sadness and suspicion. He was surprised by the fiery spirit she displayed; once to his amazement he witnessed her punch Faramir in the nose and Boromir in the stomach when they teased her.
By the time she was nine and he nineteen, there were murmurs that the engagement between them would be broken off. For did not Aragorn look fondly upon Arwen Undomiel and she him? And such an alliance between the races of men and elves could become legendary. Whatever Aragorn's thoughts, he kept them to himself.
After being away for a year, learning to be a Ranger of the North (and he'd basked in it, living in the wilderness, responsibilities not weighing as heavily on his shoulders), he came home. His welcome was warm, yet he felt oddly out of place as his friends greeted him and his parents embraced him. Aragorn was unable to dwell on this as his reception was interrupted by a frantic servant, her face filled with worry as she stammered the Lady Eowyn was missing. The girl's room was a wreck, her nurse hurt, and not a trace of the child to be found.
Immediately Aragorn joined in the search as the alarm was raised. Later, he could not explain why he slipped off to search on his own, why he went the way he did. But he found little Eowyn, bound and gagged, bloodied and hurt. He saw red for an instant as he struck the kidnapper down, his expression furious as the man slumped to the ground and breathed no more. Aragorn did not know whether to laugh or yell when Eowyn complained after he removed her gag, "What took you so long?" before passing out.
He stayed in Minas Tirith an extra fortnight before rejoining the rangers. He told himself it was due to matters Arathorn desired to discuss with him and Gilraen's happiness at his being back – nothing to do with the scare they all had had. If he slowed his pace while walking through the countless corridors, did not often venture past the city walls, well, it may have been because of the small figure that silently shadowed him and his friends; and if he was questioned about it, he only shrugged, the faint worry in his eyes hard to see. (Wouldn't Mother be pleased if she knew?)
Aragorn was well aware of evil in the world and had seen it firsthand. But still, Eowyn had been brought to Gondor to be safe. Already she had nearly lost her life...had lost her family. To have her life threatened here, by one of the Gondorians – it almost made him sick remembering the sight of the knife pressed to the girl's throat when he'd burst into the room.
So the day before he left, he went to the girl's chambers and instructed her to come with him. She followed him, not saying a word when her nurse trailed after them like an anxious mother hen. Wordlessly leading them through the hallways, Aragorn almost stumbled at one point when a small hand suddenly latched onto his. Glancing down, he discovered Eowyn looking at him, her expression serious before looking forward. Hesitantly he curled his fingers around hers, holding on until they reached the armory.
Eowyn's face lit up when Aragorn requested his sword master to teach her to use a sword. With her feisty, tomboyish nature, learning to wield a sword would be a good way for her to be able to defend herself. And that was the last time he saw the little girl before he departed, eyes clear and focused on the sword being moved slowly through the air by the man.
He was twenty-three, she thirteen when he next returned home. It had been four years since their last meeting and yet, unexpectedly, several letters had passed between them: she sharing her excitement about her sword training and longing to become a shieldmaiden, he responding to her questions about the life of a ranger.
The banquet thrown in his and his fellow rangers' honor was extravagant. While the food was delicious, the drink overflowing, and the company merry, Aragorn found his enthusiasm for such events had waned, and he spent most of the night silent and watchful, eyes flickering to Lady Eowyn seated beside his mother. She had grown over the years, taller and more slender, now appearing to move from child toward woman. Her obvious enjoyment of the feast caused his lips to tilt upward.
His smile vanished and his eyes narrowed when several of the rangers approached the head table, bowing respectfully to Arathorn and Gilraen before looking with interest at Eowyn.
"Your daughter, Your Highness?" Halbarad asked the queen.
"My betrothed," Aragorn said before his mother could reply, his tone biting. He forgot his displeasure for a moment, blinking at the bright shy smile Eowyn gave him before returning her attention to the rangers. His right eye twitched as (the rangers' surprise having quickly melted into admiration) she received their compliments, two even daring to kiss her hand, before venturing back to their seats.
"Are all Rangers of the North like that?" Eowyn asked him in a quiet voice, sounding awed.
He only scowled, pointedly ignoring his mother's chuckle and Legolas' amused grin as the elf walked by arm in arm with Arwen.
By the time they saw each other again at ages twenty-seven and seventeen, respectively, Aragorn was starting to wonder if perhaps being away from Minas Tirith for such long periods of time was not the best way to go about doing things.
"Son, are you well?" his mother asked him lightly, touching his shoulder.
Aragorn merely tightened his grip on his goblet, watching intently as Lady Eowyn walked between the tables in the banquet hall, Faramir close by her side, Boromir two steps behind.
His day was officially spoiled – and it had been such an unexpectedly good day, too. He had discovered Eowyn in the courtyard by the armory, practicing with her sword. He had suggested a friendly duel which she instantly accepted. Though he won, it was not an easy or quick victory and Aragorn had realized she had indeed become a shieldmaiden, fierce and strong.
He had lingered, feeling awkward and strangely dismayed when she meant to leave. They ended up conversing until called to the midday meal. It was the first time Aragorn felt he started to see who Eowyn was, the way she viewed the world, how she had not grown bitter and cold in spite of the despair and violence that she had experienced as a small child. He could recall the warmth that had washed over him when she'd suddenly turned to him and thanked him for saving her life, admitting she had never done so before. …The hesitant smiles they exchanged.
And now…
"Aragorn?" Gilraen said.
He glowered as a knight touched Eowyn's arm, drawing her attention to him. Faramir leaned close to be included in the conversation. Both he and Eowyn smiled at something the knight said.
Had everyone conveniently forgotten she was Aragorn's?! His intended, his shieldmaiden, his future queen, his Eowyn?
An old nobleman seated near the knight leered across the table at her.
"You dare!" Aragorn shouted, leaping to his feet, hand moving instinctively toward his sword.
Much later, the chaos finally calmed down. After Eowyn beat Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir, and Legolas to challenging the nobleman to a duel, her eyes flashing dangerously. After the old man hastily apologized, quivering under all the royals' thunderous looks, and promptly fled the hall. After Eowyn calmed the brothers and elf prince down with a mixture of reassurances and orders. After Aragorn had a quiet word with Boromir and Faramir, leaving them both pale and himself grimly satisfied.
Aragorn was still scowling over it all, even when confronted with Eowyn's exasperation. His ire only vanished when there was a ghost of a kiss against his bearded cheek and a whispered thank-you. Stunned, he stared as she swept out of the hall.
It was decided then and there.
He returned about every twelve months for short visits without warning, to the people of Gondor's amazement and his parents' and friends' bemusement. He flitted through the castle alone, kept careful watch at the feasts and balls, sometimes sparred with Eowyn (how she had grinned the first time she bested him)...waiting.
Until he was thirty-one and arrived late to Eowyn's coming of age ball. His appearance caused quite a stir, yet he had not paid any mind to the many guests. When Eowyn curtseyed at the end of the dance to her partner, she merely lifted an eyebrow when Aragorn approached and took her by the hand instead of offering his arm (the proper thing to do), leading her out into the garden, his expression determined.
He did not let go of her even when he drew them both to a halt by a bench. Swallowing, he faced her and for a moment simply stared, fully taking in her unbounded hair, her golden dress, her inquisitive eyes, and the stiffness of her shoulders.
"Will you marry me?" the words came out faster and more uncertain than he intended. In fact, he had not meant that to be the first thing he said at all.
Eowyn frowned a little at him. "Yes. The peace treaty stands. And I will honor it."
"No," Aragorn felt his face heat up as he shook his head. "I mean, though our betrothal was arranged when we were children...I love you, Eowyn. Will you marry me?"
He watched her face clear, and she laughed softly, the tension which had increasingly weighed on her the last year lifting as her shoulders relaxed. His heart skipped a beat when she blushed.
"Of course I will marry you. I suspected your feelings, though you did not show them in the most traditional ways. Faramir and Boromir still refuse to come near me." She laughed again, giving him a bright smile.
An answering smile spread across Aragorn's face as he stepped closer to Eowyn and rested his hands on her shoulders. This was more than he had dared hoped for; it would be enough despite—
"And I love you, Aragorn," she added, her tone becoming almost shy.
His eyes widened at her confession and he froze, shocked. Then his astonishment changed to joy, and he embraced her, his fingers burying in her hair. She turned her face into his shoulder with a sigh. Smiling, Aragorn pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head.
His queen had been won.
THE END