Summary: Faramir thought the old Rohirric saying rather ironic.
Author's Notes: Tolkien's characters, though I'll take responsibility for... well, you'll see. I'm not combining this piece with "In the Glade" because that one is meant to be fluff, but this is set in the same timeline as my other Hurin-centric pieces as part of the Den/Fin Files, sometime shortly after "In the Glade" and sometime more before "The Hunt." Me? Give poor Faramir a break? Who are you kidding?
When it comes to the afterlife, my wife's people speak of the halls of their forefathers. I've always found this more than a little ironic. I dare not tell her so, for I hate to upset her, but my wife, surely, could understand why.
For one thing, one barely has to consider the current ruling courts to know how infrequently a hall is ever truly a man's. A man might be Prince, Steward, or King, but he still tends to leave the running of a household to his wife, sister, or cousin. Long after my mother's death, one could still feel her influence upon our court, and my father. My Eowyn, hoyden she may be, was still the only one left to challenge Grima's control of her uncle and his court, making her mark through her resistance to a man's control of her hall. She and my aunt also were the ones to get Lothiriel settled into her queenship, and were no small factor in putting Queen Arwen at ease with Minas Tirith, either.
Even if I were unwilling to admit all that to my wife, there is another bitter irony to that phrase that Eowyn knows as well as I: all too often, the child joins his ancestors before his father does. We have seen that bitter truth confirmed, even if we lived in defiance of it. I can only hollowly quote my wife, and her mother's brother before her; there are no great words that I might say to ease this pain.
And so I send you to the halls of our mothers, little one, and I beg you tell the family that I shall follow you soon.