Disclaimer: I don't own these people, capishe? The estate of J.R.R. Tolkien does with a lease to AOL/Time Warner.
A/N: Ah this is my 13th story. That is all I really have to say, and the election results are in. Do with them what you may and I have an opinion but will not put it till the end of this. So no bais in reading this.
I walk alone in one of the gardens of Emyn Arnen. The grass feels cool and softly damp under my bare feet. The night is cool, not cold, and just bearable. The breeze does not bother me, never could such a light blowing. But I am too lost in thought to feel the night air or to see anything around me. The moon casts a pale blue light upon the ground and around me, thought I do not see it.
I take a deep breath and breathe in the soft scent of burning wood mixed with the cold air. I stop to admire the smell, it reminds me of my childhood. Not just with my Uncle, but before I went to Edoras, to a time that was happier for me.
The smell triggers memories of my mother, of whom I can remember only simple memories. Of my father, the same is true. Then the unbidden memories, the sadness of losing both, the knowing that my father would never come home, that my mother would never be the same. She would never sing to me again, never could I run to my father when he came home and jump into his arms. To know that the good comes with the bad was a hard lesson to learn. To know that your whole world was gone, when you were just seven, was hard to understand.
To watch a parent wither through the eyes of a child was horrible. To know that something was wrong, yet no one would tell you what it was. To wish to help, but be put in a separate room, ushered outside, away from everything. My brother was a comfort, he knew what I was thinking and would try to tell me everything was going to be fine. But he was eleven, and was going through what I was as well. He tried, and would hold me when I cried, and told me I was not weak for crying, that he would too, sometimes at night. Yet come morning, never admit it to anyone else.
After both my parents were gone, my brother and I went to Edoras. I developed the facade that I wore, until recently, within a year. To be unfeeling, not let my emotions known. To prepare for battle, to fight. A part of me wanted to avenge my parents deaths, for I found out later what had happened to my father. I still wanted to be like my brother and saw no reason why I should not be allowed to be able to train with him.
I try to go back to the time before all this, to remember what my mother was like. To try to see how a mother acts, what she does, how she shows her love for her children. I do not know if I would be up to the task.
The breeze is back and a cloud veils the moon, throwing the garden into shadow. My dark thoughts return, and I try to ward them off, not wishing to know of them in these times. Such times as these should not be filled with saddened memories. They should be of happiness that is right now, that everything seems brighter in the future. But one cannot build a future by leaving the past behind.
I breathe in the smell again and am reminded of the stories my mother would tell me before I went to sleep. She would tell me about the history of Rohan, and then some ones she would make up. I always wanted to hear of a brave woman, riding in to battle or fighting for whom she loved. My mother would laugh sometimes if she used the same story again, and I told her she did. Then, once we had laughed and the story was over, she would kiss me on the forehead and slowly walk out of the room while I drifted off to sleep. When there were thunderstorms, she would sing me to sleep, or let me come into her and father's bed for the night. Éomer would join us, with the excuse that he was making sure that I was safe. Then my mother would sing to all of us, and we would all fall asleep to the sound of her words mingled with the rain.
Could I be like this? Could I be like my mother? Of what I remember, could it be enough to learn from? In all my memories she has had all the answers, even known the questions. I wish for her to be here, to tell me what I should do and what I should not. I wish to be able to ask her how she raised us, how we learn right from wrong and how to teach it.
I wonder if these thoughts are even natural. Could this worry be what all girls think when they find out they will be mothers themselves. It is exciting, frightening, and wonderful all at once. I have not told anyone yet, just I and the healer who confirmed it know. How do I say this to Faramir? Express my happiness and my fear.
I hear footsteps behind me, and immediately know who it is. I had told one of the servants that I would be here, and if Faramir would come looking to tell him that.
I decide to ask the same question of him that I have been asking myself, am I ready and will I be a good at being a parent. It will be a very abrupt and strange question, but I wish to know if I am alone in my fears.
"Faramir, what kind of father do you think you will be?" The question even sounds strange to me. I hold my breath, waiting for an answer that might help me feel like I am not alone.
"What a question, my love, I wish I knew the answer. I hope to be a good one, I know what not to do though." His voice became softer as the words were spoken. Slowly he walked over and wrapped his arm around my waist. I feel comforted, that I am not the only one with doubts. But, I had no one that was like a mother to me for years, while he had his brother, who was more protecting than his father. How should I speak the words that will make us both joyous? How should I say the reason behind the question? I shiver in the night.
"My love, are you all right? You're shivering and were faint earlier today. Are you feeling ill? If you are we should go inside and tomorrow see the healers." Worry was on his face as he anxiously spoke the words, searching for sighs that I was ill.
"I went to see them earlier today. I am not ill." It was not a lie, just not the entire truth. I did not want to speak it; all the emotions that came with the words were too much. But they had to be said. Before Faramir could say another word, I spoke again. "I am with child. That is why I was faint, not illness." I held my breath, waiting for a reply. What if it was unexpected, that he truly was not ready for this? Not yet anyway. My eyes met his, and silence reigned for what seemed an eternity.
"You're with child? Oh Éowyn!" A smile light up his face and he picked me up and spun me around. Once he set me back to the ground, he kissed me with as much passion as on the walls of Minas Tirith. My fears fade into the night, as I take the breath that I was holding. I cannot help but smile as well.
The thoughts that rush through my head seem clouded and jumbled. I am not alone in my feelings; we will go through this together. Trying steps that will be new to both of us. If either have any doubts, the other will be there to make sure that the other will not fall, that we will not be alone and can confine our fears to each other.
A/N: What did you think? I am going to respond to every review on this so leave an email address or sign in to review. That is, if you want a response. And please review. Oh for the election: I am sad, Bush won and Kerry was a pansy and consided.
