A/N: Hello! Just a couple of general things: one: if you don't like non-
canon pairings, don't read; it's that simple. Two: this fic is a one-shot
piece and is in no way related to any of my other works. Three: please
review!
To Remember
The night air drifted through the open window on the terrace to an old wooden dresser with a single grey ribbon long since devoid of its once vibrant color. In the garden below, an aged woman sat on a stone bench chiseled with scenes of horses galloping, her long grey-white hair blowing about her shoulders in the evening breeze. She hummed softly to herself and gazed out upon the muted brilliance of late spring blooms.
"My lady Éowyn..." The woman looked up into the aged and yet childlike face of the Hobbit who had been her companion so long ago.
"Sit, Merry," she said with the serenity of one who has lived a long while. He nodded, but did not sit.
"Éowyn," he began, "There is something I need to know." She sighed and looked away. "I've never been the best for eloquence, as you well know, my lady. So I'll just ask what I need to ask... Do you love me, Éowyn?"
"Merry... Please sit down by me. Merry," she started again when he had lowered himself onto the cold stone of the bench. "Yes! I love you, I love you; I've always loved you!" she cried throwing her arms around his neck and weeping freely as a young maid. Merry let himself kiss her and she kissed him back, ardently, weaving her fingers through his coarse, grey curls. Then she pulled back from him, her whole body wracked with sobs. "I can't, Merry, I can't." She shook her head over and over again and shivered, though the evening was warm. "I can't..."
The memory washed through her, so faint, so long ago. In the midst of uncertainty, it had been too much to be strong and alone, and she had needed more than a friendly voice...
His rough fingers wound through the strands of golden hair cascading down her back.
"Merry I need you with me tonight, I..." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the fingertips, calloused from years of holding a sword. She trembled at the touch. He looked into her eyes.
"Éowyn, are you sure this is what you want?"
"Merry, after this night I will be strong. But, if- if I don't live to see another day..." She trailed off, bending to caress his lips with her own. "Just this one night," she said, untying a bright ribbon from her hair and giving it to him, smiling gently.
"Just this night," he agreed and then leaned in to untie the laces of her flowing tunic.
"Just this one night and then I will convince my Uncle to allow me to fight and, and—I want to fight, I will fight." You will too, she added silently. He nodded and the gown slipped to the ground.
He stood for a moment, drinking her in with his eyes, then stood on his toes and kissed her with abandon. Just this night- the solemn mantra coursed through them and hung heavy upon the air.
Merry walked down the hall towards Éowyn's quarters in the Houses of Healing. He took a moment to ready himself for the encounter and then knocked on the door.
"Éowyn?" he pushed the door partway open, "I came to return this." He proffered a ribbon and she took it in her hand.
"Thank you." A long silence enveloped them. "Merry, why did you- I mean with Faramir and- when it so clearly pained you?" He smiled sadly.
"It was 'just that night,' Remember? Besides, it could never work out between you and me; you will marry Faramir and I will find a hobbit lass to marry."
"Well, I'm glad you did, Merry, we're so happy together. I hope you and your hobbit lass find bliss, my Merry." She pressed her lips to his forehead fleetingly.
"Merry, I don't know if this would be too much to ask, but if you could officially bear witness to our wedding I would be so grateful..."
"Say no more, my lady, I would be honored." He turned abruptly and walked away. He had nothing else to say. What could he? He knew he had made the right decision; what future could he possibly have with her, a human woman? None, he told himself. But then, why did he feel so empty?
He offered her a small smile.
"You were the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen."
"You left soon after the wedding."
"You knew I couldn't stay." She sighed; she did know. But somehow she wished...
"And I married Estella and loved her dearly," he continued, "but..." "You never forget your first love..." they said together.
"And when Faramir died and you moved back here, to Rohan..."
"And when your Estella passed and you traveled here at my brother's summons..."
"But we never forgot each other."
"I love you still, Éowyn."
"And I have always loved you, Merry," replied Éowyn. "But I think I see now... I did love you; I do love you, but..." He swallowed and then completed her thoughts as if reading her mind.
"We were not in love—it was a moment, nothing more."
"But I do love you, my dearest Meriadoc."
"My lady." She bent and kissed him one last time.
He didn't know what he had thought would happen- she was still the Lady Éowyn and he was still... He bit his lip. No, he consoled himself, it never would have worked; there were some things time could not change.
Éowyn, Lady of the Shield-arm passed from this world on a sunlit afternoon the following week and was laid in her tomb with a beautiful memorial service at which many tears were shed. Merry was not able to stay long with so many people gathered, but when the sky darkened in the evening, he returned. Silently letting an old grey ribbon fall from his hand onto the grave, he walked away to take his supper with Pippin and then walk in the garden and remember.
To Remember
The night air drifted through the open window on the terrace to an old wooden dresser with a single grey ribbon long since devoid of its once vibrant color. In the garden below, an aged woman sat on a stone bench chiseled with scenes of horses galloping, her long grey-white hair blowing about her shoulders in the evening breeze. She hummed softly to herself and gazed out upon the muted brilliance of late spring blooms.
"My lady Éowyn..." The woman looked up into the aged and yet childlike face of the Hobbit who had been her companion so long ago.
"Sit, Merry," she said with the serenity of one who has lived a long while. He nodded, but did not sit.
"Éowyn," he began, "There is something I need to know." She sighed and looked away. "I've never been the best for eloquence, as you well know, my lady. So I'll just ask what I need to ask... Do you love me, Éowyn?"
"Merry... Please sit down by me. Merry," she started again when he had lowered himself onto the cold stone of the bench. "Yes! I love you, I love you; I've always loved you!" she cried throwing her arms around his neck and weeping freely as a young maid. Merry let himself kiss her and she kissed him back, ardently, weaving her fingers through his coarse, grey curls. Then she pulled back from him, her whole body wracked with sobs. "I can't, Merry, I can't." She shook her head over and over again and shivered, though the evening was warm. "I can't..."
The memory washed through her, so faint, so long ago. In the midst of uncertainty, it had been too much to be strong and alone, and she had needed more than a friendly voice...
His rough fingers wound through the strands of golden hair cascading down her back.
"Merry I need you with me tonight, I..." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the fingertips, calloused from years of holding a sword. She trembled at the touch. He looked into her eyes.
"Éowyn, are you sure this is what you want?"
"Merry, after this night I will be strong. But, if- if I don't live to see another day..." She trailed off, bending to caress his lips with her own. "Just this one night," she said, untying a bright ribbon from her hair and giving it to him, smiling gently.
"Just this night," he agreed and then leaned in to untie the laces of her flowing tunic.
"Just this one night and then I will convince my Uncle to allow me to fight and, and—I want to fight, I will fight." You will too, she added silently. He nodded and the gown slipped to the ground.
He stood for a moment, drinking her in with his eyes, then stood on his toes and kissed her with abandon. Just this night- the solemn mantra coursed through them and hung heavy upon the air.
Merry walked down the hall towards Éowyn's quarters in the Houses of Healing. He took a moment to ready himself for the encounter and then knocked on the door.
"Éowyn?" he pushed the door partway open, "I came to return this." He proffered a ribbon and she took it in her hand.
"Thank you." A long silence enveloped them. "Merry, why did you- I mean with Faramir and- when it so clearly pained you?" He smiled sadly.
"It was 'just that night,' Remember? Besides, it could never work out between you and me; you will marry Faramir and I will find a hobbit lass to marry."
"Well, I'm glad you did, Merry, we're so happy together. I hope you and your hobbit lass find bliss, my Merry." She pressed her lips to his forehead fleetingly.
"Merry, I don't know if this would be too much to ask, but if you could officially bear witness to our wedding I would be so grateful..."
"Say no more, my lady, I would be honored." He turned abruptly and walked away. He had nothing else to say. What could he? He knew he had made the right decision; what future could he possibly have with her, a human woman? None, he told himself. But then, why did he feel so empty?
He offered her a small smile.
"You were the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen."
"You left soon after the wedding."
"You knew I couldn't stay." She sighed; she did know. But somehow she wished...
"And I married Estella and loved her dearly," he continued, "but..." "You never forget your first love..." they said together.
"And when Faramir died and you moved back here, to Rohan..."
"And when your Estella passed and you traveled here at my brother's summons..."
"But we never forgot each other."
"I love you still, Éowyn."
"And I have always loved you, Merry," replied Éowyn. "But I think I see now... I did love you; I do love you, but..." He swallowed and then completed her thoughts as if reading her mind.
"We were not in love—it was a moment, nothing more."
"But I do love you, my dearest Meriadoc."
"My lady." She bent and kissed him one last time.
He didn't know what he had thought would happen- she was still the Lady Éowyn and he was still... He bit his lip. No, he consoled himself, it never would have worked; there were some things time could not change.
Éowyn, Lady of the Shield-arm passed from this world on a sunlit afternoon the following week and was laid in her tomb with a beautiful memorial service at which many tears were shed. Merry was not able to stay long with so many people gathered, but when the sky darkened in the evening, he returned. Silently letting an old grey ribbon fall from his hand onto the grave, he walked away to take his supper with Pippin and then walk in the garden and remember.
