FICLET Alert, may or may not be continued.
I don't own it, never have and never will, but if I had, you damn well bet Eowyn and Faramir's love story would never have been cut from ROTK.
The bright star looked out upon the waving autumn grasses of Pelenor fields. Upon the side of the mountain the great tiered city of Minas Tirith looked out upon a now tranquil Gondorian countryside. The White City was under repairs as the damage from the great battle was undone. Some scars would remain on the outer walls and on the people of the land. Many of the brave had fallen in the darkest hours the living were forced to rebuild their homes and their lives out the ruins.
In the darkened chambers of the Palace walls the white lady of Rohan stirred in her sleep. The Witch King in his darkened armor was advancing upon her uncle, who lay bloodied and broken under his horse. The screams of the dead and dying, the thunderous cries of the Orks were all a round her. But in this dream there was no victory, only death. The lifeless body of Aragorn was being drug across the fields, that were now rank with blood, her brother, her uncle, cousins, Merry, her countrymen all perished in the battle. She was running through the city searching for a place to hide, but every darkened corner promised more death. Through each of the city's seven gates she ran, her head pounding, her muscles screaming for relief. She flung herself through the front doors of the palace, and swung the bar down to lock them behind her. She turned around.
"NO!" Eowyn was awake now; the sobbing and tears came from the terror that had been inflicted upon her soul. Her body rocked from the horrors that she had seen in her dream. There would be no sleep for her tonight.
The door opened and within a moment she was staring deeply into the cool gray eyes of her beloved. "I saw you burning, I couldn't escape. There were to many, to many dead, to many to fight." Her voice was barely above the faintest of whispers and filled with desperation and despair. Faramir gathered her in his arms letting her cry into this neck, while she mumbled the horrors she had witnessed that night. "What you saw, was not real. We are here, alive and well, do not let the shadows win after we have defeated them." His hands were comforting to her as they caressed the softness of her gown and wound through her long hair.
"I could not save you, I looked into your eyes and saw only the cold hardness of death." Faramir pulled her away and ran his hands around over her cheeks, brushing away the streaming tears with his fingertips. Her hair was the color of spun gold in the pale moonlight and her eyes although tear stained reminded him of the skies of Ithilien in the springtime. There were no others who walked these lands that could have been any fairer than the white lady or stirred his heart to feel such love for her.
"No my lady, you have saved me as you saved us all." He pressed his lips gently to her forehead.
TBC
I don't own it, never have and never will, but if I had, you damn well bet Eowyn and Faramir's love story would never have been cut from ROTK.
The bright star looked out upon the waving autumn grasses of Pelenor fields. Upon the side of the mountain the great tiered city of Minas Tirith looked out upon a now tranquil Gondorian countryside. The White City was under repairs as the damage from the great battle was undone. Some scars would remain on the outer walls and on the people of the land. Many of the brave had fallen in the darkest hours the living were forced to rebuild their homes and their lives out the ruins.
In the darkened chambers of the Palace walls the white lady of Rohan stirred in her sleep. The Witch King in his darkened armor was advancing upon her uncle, who lay bloodied and broken under his horse. The screams of the dead and dying, the thunderous cries of the Orks were all a round her. But in this dream there was no victory, only death. The lifeless body of Aragorn was being drug across the fields, that were now rank with blood, her brother, her uncle, cousins, Merry, her countrymen all perished in the battle. She was running through the city searching for a place to hide, but every darkened corner promised more death. Through each of the city's seven gates she ran, her head pounding, her muscles screaming for relief. She flung herself through the front doors of the palace, and swung the bar down to lock them behind her. She turned around.
"NO!" Eowyn was awake now; the sobbing and tears came from the terror that had been inflicted upon her soul. Her body rocked from the horrors that she had seen in her dream. There would be no sleep for her tonight.
The door opened and within a moment she was staring deeply into the cool gray eyes of her beloved. "I saw you burning, I couldn't escape. There were to many, to many dead, to many to fight." Her voice was barely above the faintest of whispers and filled with desperation and despair. Faramir gathered her in his arms letting her cry into this neck, while she mumbled the horrors she had witnessed that night. "What you saw, was not real. We are here, alive and well, do not let the shadows win after we have defeated them." His hands were comforting to her as they caressed the softness of her gown and wound through her long hair.
"I could not save you, I looked into your eyes and saw only the cold hardness of death." Faramir pulled her away and ran his hands around over her cheeks, brushing away the streaming tears with his fingertips. Her hair was the color of spun gold in the pale moonlight and her eyes although tear stained reminded him of the skies of Ithilien in the springtime. There were no others who walked these lands that could have been any fairer than the white lady or stirred his heart to feel such love for her.
"No my lady, you have saved me as you saved us all." He pressed his lips gently to her forehead.
TBC