This is a short vignette of Eomers point of view soon after Eowyn has left
Rohan for the last time to live in Ithilien with Faramir.
The rooms are stained in you.
Your scent echoes about this place, and with each breath I recall your absence. You have always been my constant- you've shared everything I have.
I remember our first day here. You clutched onto me, too unsure and frightened to loose me. From that day, I have always tried to protect you from anything. Yet I think we would both agree now you have long surpassed the point where you could protect youself.
I wander about this place aimlessly. I swear I have heard your footsteps, light and quick on the flagsone twice today. I cannot believe you are gone- my little sister. Funny; for so long you've been the older, far more mature one. Always looking after me, although it's difficult to admit.
Little things, like when I used to return from patrols injured. Only cuts and bruises- but you were always there, cleaning me up. It makes me feel rather guilty. All those years of taking advantage of you. Now I'm alone, and you're gone. I'll never be able to repay you.
It's the small things which stick in the back of your throat. You were one of my greatest friends. We've been together through so much, it would be complicated otherwise.
Our closeness it what I'll miss most. Knowing you'll never be person you once were. You have a new life, and despite the bonds that tie us together, I know in my heart, I'm not part of that life. If you could pick a moment, freeze it in time to live through over and over, I'd pick us. Who else can I trust more than myself?
Do you remember when you caught the winter fever? You were so young, on reflection, so was I. I sat by your bed for two days straight. I was so furious with myself when I finally fell asleep, slumped in my chair after a three day vigil. My little sister.
I wish I could tell you I love you, but it seems too mundane, so regular. How can I tell you that you were the only person I've ever connected with in such a way I could. do anything for?
As I venture to my rooms, I pass yours. Empty and desolate. Except a couple of books from childhood lessons. They make me smile- obviously left deliberately to erase the memories of those failed classes. I am going to keep them for your children, for when they too are disgusted with their classes. Ah, that day will be heartening.
See, sister? Already I am cheering. Acceptance is finally absorbing into my head, and your absence will become as another chapter in a book.
Would that not be comical, a strange thought though it is, a book. A record of these times stored in the great libraries- our kingdoms and battles poured over by scholars and students alike in years to come. What would they think of us, eh?
Still, the book is not yet finished. You have a life ahead of you which is fresh and clean- such as the pages, blank of text. I can only wish you luck, and the deepest love between you. I would have words with Faramir if it were not so. Somehow I doubt it would come to this- you are more than capable of keeping him in order yourself!
Let life be rich for you, but the Mark is always ready to welcome the return of the White Lady, if ere you think long enough to miss us. I would hope you do. This place is lonely without you.
Maybe one day I'll fall in love, and I'll be able to let the past go too. Until then I will have to be content with your scent on the breeze.
The rooms are stained in you.
Your scent echoes about this place, and with each breath I recall your absence. You have always been my constant- you've shared everything I have.
I remember our first day here. You clutched onto me, too unsure and frightened to loose me. From that day, I have always tried to protect you from anything. Yet I think we would both agree now you have long surpassed the point where you could protect youself.
I wander about this place aimlessly. I swear I have heard your footsteps, light and quick on the flagsone twice today. I cannot believe you are gone- my little sister. Funny; for so long you've been the older, far more mature one. Always looking after me, although it's difficult to admit.
Little things, like when I used to return from patrols injured. Only cuts and bruises- but you were always there, cleaning me up. It makes me feel rather guilty. All those years of taking advantage of you. Now I'm alone, and you're gone. I'll never be able to repay you.
It's the small things which stick in the back of your throat. You were one of my greatest friends. We've been together through so much, it would be complicated otherwise.
Our closeness it what I'll miss most. Knowing you'll never be person you once were. You have a new life, and despite the bonds that tie us together, I know in my heart, I'm not part of that life. If you could pick a moment, freeze it in time to live through over and over, I'd pick us. Who else can I trust more than myself?
Do you remember when you caught the winter fever? You were so young, on reflection, so was I. I sat by your bed for two days straight. I was so furious with myself when I finally fell asleep, slumped in my chair after a three day vigil. My little sister.
I wish I could tell you I love you, but it seems too mundane, so regular. How can I tell you that you were the only person I've ever connected with in such a way I could. do anything for?
As I venture to my rooms, I pass yours. Empty and desolate. Except a couple of books from childhood lessons. They make me smile- obviously left deliberately to erase the memories of those failed classes. I am going to keep them for your children, for when they too are disgusted with their classes. Ah, that day will be heartening.
See, sister? Already I am cheering. Acceptance is finally absorbing into my head, and your absence will become as another chapter in a book.
Would that not be comical, a strange thought though it is, a book. A record of these times stored in the great libraries- our kingdoms and battles poured over by scholars and students alike in years to come. What would they think of us, eh?
Still, the book is not yet finished. You have a life ahead of you which is fresh and clean- such as the pages, blank of text. I can only wish you luck, and the deepest love between you. I would have words with Faramir if it were not so. Somehow I doubt it would come to this- you are more than capable of keeping him in order yourself!
Let life be rich for you, but the Mark is always ready to welcome the return of the White Lady, if ere you think long enough to miss us. I would hope you do. This place is lonely without you.
Maybe one day I'll fall in love, and I'll be able to let the past go too. Until then I will have to be content with your scent on the breeze.