Title: Practical Love
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Naoki / Naoki_pyromaniac@hotmail.com
Rating/Warnings/Categories: PG-13, romance to the fifth fluffy heart degree, semi AU.
Summary: Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, is good friends with Faramir of Gondor, yet when he comes to Edoras with his bride to be, she realises things weren't as simple as she thought...
Author's Notes: This is pure, fluffy romance which I wrote over a brief period of time and I was inspired to write it by Fishton (find her in my favourite author's list) so this is for her I suppose. I'd also like to dedicate this fic to various happy couply people - Eowyn and Faramir are soulmates and I think it's nice to imagine that everyone will one day find their own - and I hope they have found their Aragorn, Arwen, Eowyn, Faramir, Frodo or Samwise or whatever...
The AU Situation: In this semi-AU, Eowyn did not commit herself to Faramir during her time at Gondor and while she knew he felt deeply about her, thought that she could only offer friendship to him instead. Eomer is King of Rohan and unmarried, the behaviour of Rohan women in contrast to Gondor women is just my own interpretation but I do think Gondor women would be more inclined to dutiful behaviour towards their men for some reason...
~*~
Practical Love, Chapter One
~*~
The dream chased her even now, long after the battle, long after the House of Healing, Éowyn dreamt of the engulfing darkness. In her dream, she was merely a child, not strong enough to hold a sword and very unprotected. In her dream, the darkness held sway until the last moment, when she uncovered a brooch in the ground at her feet, a shape wrought in silver - and never could she remember it's shape - and then she always remembered what to do. In her dream, all she had to do was hold it in front of her, and walk proudly forwards, and she knew then, in her dream, that she was finding her way back to Edoras.
And she woke; her hair clinging to her damp skin, feeling hot and flustered yet relived. Éowyn had once feared the dream, back in Gondor, where she had stood on the cool stone parapet, haunted, self-despising her weakness and the disappointment she felt when she realised she had abandoned her other duties for her own selfish pursuit of valor.
Éomer had forgiven her and commended her bravery and skill, yet it had been a long time before Éowyn had fully accepted his words and with a sigh, she stepped out of bed and dressed in emerald coloured robes, selecting a wine coloured woven belt for contrast, leaving her hair loose.
From her window she could see the sun rising over the crested mountains, a golden spot on blue sky, and she paused to wonder what Faramir would have made of it as the fields below rippled with colour. The dream's hold on her swayed her less now, and for the time being, she put it to one side and made her way to the main hall to speak with her brother, who sat up late so many nights now, poring over ancient texts and histories, unraveling the secrets and past of Rohan.
She had already decided not to mention her dream to him nor mention how long it had plagued her.
She found her brother sitting, surrounded by the wavering light of candles, hunched over many scrolls of parchment, his face showed his fatigue of Kingship, yet the glint of pride shone brightly as he read. Skilled as her brother was at the art of war, the art of diplomacy was only now being grasped fully and he had thrown himself into his tutorial with the same fierce determination he showed in the learning of fighting and defense, much to his sister's amusement and admiration.
As soon as she entered, silently, save for the slightest rustle of her dress on the stone floor, he raised his head, haloed by a mane of gold, sleeker and more tamed than it had been before. He was dressed in formal robes, no armor nor weapon of war near him, except for the small sword that hung at his side and he gestured for her to sit opposite him as he shifted through the sea of ink and parchment until he found what he was looking for.
"Gondor will be sending a diplomat to Rohan to speak about re-establishing trade routes" - Éomer exchanged a glance with Éowyn that told her that he would be sitting up at night reading all he could about trade laws, routes and histories for a long time to come - "It is as such that they are sending Lord Faramir to speak with me, he will be expected to stay here for about a month" he paused, as if considering a difficult phrase, then looked to her, apparently keeping his considerations to himself.
"The Lord Faramir...?" Éowyn repeated, mainly for the benefit of herself, but Éomer could not mistake the warmth in her voice as she briefly recalled the man and his kindness in her brief period of healing in the city of Gondor. His intentions had been modest and pure, but tinted with a rich undercurrent of something that Éowyn had been too indifferent and reflective to realise at the time.
She remembered, with more then a slight sense of guilt, that their parting which had been informal and warm, both expressing wishes to see the other again and at the time she had believed herself not to desire Faramir as anymore than a companion who shared many of her passions (well-known and otherwise) and as a friend in a world that was frequently unkind to her wishes and desires.
And now Faramir was to come to Edoras.
It was news that brought a great contentment to her but also doubt - she did not feel her heart fluttering at the mention of his name nor felt a wish to set about perfecting her appearance for his arrival - if he was to see her, then he would see her as she always was, she told herself firmly. It was true that she thought warmly of him, and they had written to each other, each taking a private delight and/or despair in the contrasts of emotions expressed and events described.
Yet, she did not think herself to be in love with Faramir.
Taking her leave from Éomer, she returned to her chambers to speak briefly with her handmaiden, Angharad, who was to prepare her formal robes of white for Faramir's arrival, as it was a political affair, she would, she admitted with a small degree of malcontent, be required to fulfill the ceremonial role of the White Lady of Rohan.
She left to go riding later that afternoon with her brother, something they had done since they were young children, today however, they did not have to return hastily as no formal business was to be conducted that afternoon and Éowyn suspected her brother had arranged it that way in order to ask about Faramir and her thoughts of him, thinking that was what he had meant to bring up before in the main hall.
Suprisingly, he spoke little until they returned and were in the stables, as he leant over to pick a strand of grass caught in her hair he muttered something that sounded, to Éowyn's uncanny hearing, like 'Alas, Faramir is a fool...' but he denied, venomously, that he had said anything.
"Nay! You spoke of Faramir...explain your words, they seem in all contradiction to what you have said of him these past few months" she replied sternly, holding his gaze with equal hardness, Éomer was the first to look away, almost sheepishly as if he had been caught in some childish behaviour.
"I should have told you honestly, dear sister, Lord Faramir does not travel to Edoras alone. He is bringing his betrothed with him" said Éomer, with a deep sigh that vexed Éowyn...it sounded to her as if he pitied her for some reason.
"Do you think this troubles me?" she asked in a bright tone, Éomer's expression changed quite rapidly from amazement to placid interest within moments, and Eowyn smiled wryly. "Did you think I...do you think I love Faramir?" she asked, more seriously now as they both climbed the steps to the Golden Hall.
"I know you think fondly of him...and I remember your friendship with him, and how you used to - how you still - speak of him frequently, and with great pride and pleasure too...yet, if the friendship is just friendship, I will say no more" answered Éomer, taking his leave with a briskness that indicated that he had put on his formality as soon as he had stepped into the Hall. The subtle changes in her brother's poise and voice, depending on the occasion, was a quality Éowyn had never inherited, nor had she desired to.
With many matters on her mind, she left for her chambers in order to prepare for the evening meal, not quite sure why the fact that Faramir was coming to Edoras lay more heavily on her mind than it did before.
Chapter: 1/?
Author: Naoki / Naoki_pyromaniac@hotmail.com
Rating/Warnings/Categories: PG-13, romance to the fifth fluffy heart degree, semi AU.
Summary: Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, is good friends with Faramir of Gondor, yet when he comes to Edoras with his bride to be, she realises things weren't as simple as she thought...
Author's Notes: This is pure, fluffy romance which I wrote over a brief period of time and I was inspired to write it by Fishton (find her in my favourite author's list) so this is for her I suppose. I'd also like to dedicate this fic to various happy couply people - Eowyn and Faramir are soulmates and I think it's nice to imagine that everyone will one day find their own - and I hope they have found their Aragorn, Arwen, Eowyn, Faramir, Frodo or Samwise or whatever...
The AU Situation: In this semi-AU, Eowyn did not commit herself to Faramir during her time at Gondor and while she knew he felt deeply about her, thought that she could only offer friendship to him instead. Eomer is King of Rohan and unmarried, the behaviour of Rohan women in contrast to Gondor women is just my own interpretation but I do think Gondor women would be more inclined to dutiful behaviour towards their men for some reason...
~*~
Practical Love, Chapter One
~*~
The dream chased her even now, long after the battle, long after the House of Healing, Éowyn dreamt of the engulfing darkness. In her dream, she was merely a child, not strong enough to hold a sword and very unprotected. In her dream, the darkness held sway until the last moment, when she uncovered a brooch in the ground at her feet, a shape wrought in silver - and never could she remember it's shape - and then she always remembered what to do. In her dream, all she had to do was hold it in front of her, and walk proudly forwards, and she knew then, in her dream, that she was finding her way back to Edoras.
And she woke; her hair clinging to her damp skin, feeling hot and flustered yet relived. Éowyn had once feared the dream, back in Gondor, where she had stood on the cool stone parapet, haunted, self-despising her weakness and the disappointment she felt when she realised she had abandoned her other duties for her own selfish pursuit of valor.
Éomer had forgiven her and commended her bravery and skill, yet it had been a long time before Éowyn had fully accepted his words and with a sigh, she stepped out of bed and dressed in emerald coloured robes, selecting a wine coloured woven belt for contrast, leaving her hair loose.
From her window she could see the sun rising over the crested mountains, a golden spot on blue sky, and she paused to wonder what Faramir would have made of it as the fields below rippled with colour. The dream's hold on her swayed her less now, and for the time being, she put it to one side and made her way to the main hall to speak with her brother, who sat up late so many nights now, poring over ancient texts and histories, unraveling the secrets and past of Rohan.
She had already decided not to mention her dream to him nor mention how long it had plagued her.
She found her brother sitting, surrounded by the wavering light of candles, hunched over many scrolls of parchment, his face showed his fatigue of Kingship, yet the glint of pride shone brightly as he read. Skilled as her brother was at the art of war, the art of diplomacy was only now being grasped fully and he had thrown himself into his tutorial with the same fierce determination he showed in the learning of fighting and defense, much to his sister's amusement and admiration.
As soon as she entered, silently, save for the slightest rustle of her dress on the stone floor, he raised his head, haloed by a mane of gold, sleeker and more tamed than it had been before. He was dressed in formal robes, no armor nor weapon of war near him, except for the small sword that hung at his side and he gestured for her to sit opposite him as he shifted through the sea of ink and parchment until he found what he was looking for.
"Gondor will be sending a diplomat to Rohan to speak about re-establishing trade routes" - Éomer exchanged a glance with Éowyn that told her that he would be sitting up at night reading all he could about trade laws, routes and histories for a long time to come - "It is as such that they are sending Lord Faramir to speak with me, he will be expected to stay here for about a month" he paused, as if considering a difficult phrase, then looked to her, apparently keeping his considerations to himself.
"The Lord Faramir...?" Éowyn repeated, mainly for the benefit of herself, but Éomer could not mistake the warmth in her voice as she briefly recalled the man and his kindness in her brief period of healing in the city of Gondor. His intentions had been modest and pure, but tinted with a rich undercurrent of something that Éowyn had been too indifferent and reflective to realise at the time.
She remembered, with more then a slight sense of guilt, that their parting which had been informal and warm, both expressing wishes to see the other again and at the time she had believed herself not to desire Faramir as anymore than a companion who shared many of her passions (well-known and otherwise) and as a friend in a world that was frequently unkind to her wishes and desires.
And now Faramir was to come to Edoras.
It was news that brought a great contentment to her but also doubt - she did not feel her heart fluttering at the mention of his name nor felt a wish to set about perfecting her appearance for his arrival - if he was to see her, then he would see her as she always was, she told herself firmly. It was true that she thought warmly of him, and they had written to each other, each taking a private delight and/or despair in the contrasts of emotions expressed and events described.
Yet, she did not think herself to be in love with Faramir.
Taking her leave from Éomer, she returned to her chambers to speak briefly with her handmaiden, Angharad, who was to prepare her formal robes of white for Faramir's arrival, as it was a political affair, she would, she admitted with a small degree of malcontent, be required to fulfill the ceremonial role of the White Lady of Rohan.
She left to go riding later that afternoon with her brother, something they had done since they were young children, today however, they did not have to return hastily as no formal business was to be conducted that afternoon and Éowyn suspected her brother had arranged it that way in order to ask about Faramir and her thoughts of him, thinking that was what he had meant to bring up before in the main hall.
Suprisingly, he spoke little until they returned and were in the stables, as he leant over to pick a strand of grass caught in her hair he muttered something that sounded, to Éowyn's uncanny hearing, like 'Alas, Faramir is a fool...' but he denied, venomously, that he had said anything.
"Nay! You spoke of Faramir...explain your words, they seem in all contradiction to what you have said of him these past few months" she replied sternly, holding his gaze with equal hardness, Éomer was the first to look away, almost sheepishly as if he had been caught in some childish behaviour.
"I should have told you honestly, dear sister, Lord Faramir does not travel to Edoras alone. He is bringing his betrothed with him" said Éomer, with a deep sigh that vexed Éowyn...it sounded to her as if he pitied her for some reason.
"Do you think this troubles me?" she asked in a bright tone, Éomer's expression changed quite rapidly from amazement to placid interest within moments, and Eowyn smiled wryly. "Did you think I...do you think I love Faramir?" she asked, more seriously now as they both climbed the steps to the Golden Hall.
"I know you think fondly of him...and I remember your friendship with him, and how you used to - how you still - speak of him frequently, and with great pride and pleasure too...yet, if the friendship is just friendship, I will say no more" answered Éomer, taking his leave with a briskness that indicated that he had put on his formality as soon as he had stepped into the Hall. The subtle changes in her brother's poise and voice, depending on the occasion, was a quality Éowyn had never inherited, nor had she desired to.
With many matters on her mind, she left for her chambers in order to prepare for the evening meal, not quite sure why the fact that Faramir was coming to Edoras lay more heavily on her mind than it did before.