All I can say before we begin, is I sincerely hope you enjoy what I've worked so hard to bring to life, in honour of J.R.R Tolkien, and his never-fading brilliance…

Faramir sat pensively on the edge of one of Minis Tirith's meticulously designed gardens. He was contemplating a great number of things, and it was clear on his face. A wedding was in the air, and the city buzzed, despite the silence. The few people – mostly nobles – who passed by him on their way from one celebratory hall to another knew better than to disturb him.

All… Except one.

"Eowyn, I know you're hiding there. Come out." His amused voice rang out strong and clear over the elegant courtyard, echoing over the vast expanse that was the city of Men. It was eerie, and it was awe-inspiring.

A sheepish shield maiden of Rohan stepped slowly out from behind a conspicuously placed bush. Despite her shame, there was pride in her stance. They both knew she had been spying, and they both knew she had been caught doing so. No conversation was necessary.

"…Sorry." And the issue was forgotten. Both had learned that grudges, even petty ones, left a person empty, whether they were in a time of war or not.

A devious smirk was hidden on his face, but his eyes were shining with the reinforced knowledge that she cared enough to follow him out into the bitter cold of the night air. He was glad his back was to her, so she could not see his awed, love-struck expression.

"What brings you out here this fine evening?" he asked casually, swinging his legs, seemingly unaffected by the substantial drop below him. She breathed out slowly, knowing that in his position, no matter what bravery she claimed, she would have been petrified. Unless, of course, there was a certain person beside her to support her…

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish, Faramir." Her words were angry, but her tone was one of bliss. The type of bliss that could only be caused by stolen moments with the one you loved. "And please get off that ledge. It pains me to admit it, but you're scaring me. A little bit."

The Gondorian ranger chuckled merrily. "Worry not, dear one! This has been my favourite spot since I was a child! Join me!"

She sighed, her posture defeated, knowing there would be no arguing with her future husband this night. Not that she had particularly tried. She hoisted herself up precariously onto the ledge, aided by years of horse-riding and Faramir's protective arms helping her into place. Despite those things, though, she was all too mindful of the dizzying height.

They sat in silence for a moment, soaking up each other's presence and admiring the view of the sprawling city and endless plains before them. In the distance, lit up and being rebuilt, Osgiliath stood with an ancient pride.

The peaceful silence was soon broken. "So…" he drawled light-heartedly, placing his warming arms around her once again, this time for a much less dangerous reason, which set her heart beating more than she would have liked. "The wedding was amazing, do you not think?"

"Of course! Aragorn wouldn't have accepted anything less for his beautiful elf! No one would!" Eowyn exclaimed, throwing her arms out widely. They both knew that no matter how beautiful the decorations and ceremony had been, it all dulled in comparison to the light and radiance of Arwen Undomiel.

He laughed warmly, his eyes trained on her face. "Naturally, our wedding will be five times as magnificent. And the bride will be by far the most beautiful Minis Tirith has ever had the honour of gazing upon."

Contrary to her best efforts, Eowyn flushed, silently thanking the darkness for veiling her embarrassment. What was it about Faramir that made her act like a weak, teenaged girl with a crush? She both hated it, and loved it. She shook her head slowly. "Arwen is far more elegant than I am." There was so much in that statement she wasn't saying. Arwen was so much better than she was. Arwen was just so much more.

"Yes, she is," he said slowly, his eyes moving back to gaze upon the moonlit horizon.

Eowyn's head snapped up in shock. It may have been true, she admitted, but did he have to… Her thoughts trailed off, interrupted.

"But in my eyes, there is no one more perfect than you. You are no fair maiden, my love; you take care of yourself and make no apologies for it. It's both fascinating and enchanting."

If she had not already been madly in love with the man who was holding her so gently, she would've been in those few, precious seconds after he had so softly spoken those words. And forever after that.

She knew then that there was no way she could say anything more to add to the moment. Any words added would've been words unnecessary.

All… Except Three.

"Hey, Faramir?"

"Hm…Yeah?" he hummed contentedly, pulling her closer.

"I love you."

There was a pause as the words floated through the air, caressing them gently.

He smiled.

"I love you, too."

-The End.

This is, without a doubt, my favourite piece of writing that has ever been concocted by my mind.

This one-shot was inspired by the love of my life, StarSeeker358, also known as Rohan~

Also, of course, I did not mean to imply that I thought Arwen was any better that Eowyn, or the other way around. I was simply articulating what I assumed would be Eowyn's thoughts during those moments. You can agree, can you not?

Self-deprecation affects the worst of us, usually at the worst of times…

But I digress.

Would anyone like to see a sequel? I have fallen so in love with this little chapter of Middle-Earth, I'd have no problems doing so. But, only if the fans want to see it too!

All my love~

Phelpstwinsandelftwins