Author's Note/Disclaimer: In case there was a smidgen of doubt, none of these characters are mine, they all belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, the genius creator of LOTR. I'm only borrowing them for my own somewhat questionable purposes. I'm also rather butchering them. Since I am too lazy to do the research, the timing in this story is probably completely off, but we'll just pretend like it's OK, shall we? As long as I'm ruining the characterization, plot, and timeline of LOTR, I might as well take artistic license with historical accuracy as well! Reviews welcome, as this is my first attempt at FanFiction directly for the internet.



Eowyn regarded her attempt at dinner objectively. It was probably edible, but that didn't necessarily make it palatable. A large, lopsided loaf of what could have been bread (black), a lump of charred beef, and some very strange looking broccoli sat on the kitchen table. The room itself was a mess- flour strewn everywhere, ashes flying out of the fireplace- but was nothing compared to the sweating, disheveled woman standing defeated in the middle of it. For a soon-to-be-married woman, she thought tiredly, I've really got a long way to go on this wifely stuff. Dejectedly, Eowyn plopped down in a chair and stared into the fire. What kind of Stewardess of Gondor, Princess of Ithilien, Lady of Rohan couldn't even cook her husband dinner? She'd been struggling for a week now to become better skilled in the "womanly arts" that the Queen's ladies in waiting were so good at. With only three weeks until the wedding, she was beginning to panic. Eowyn idly looked out the window. The sun was setting behind the mountains...sunset! She lept up and ran to lean out over the balcony. It was nearly nightfall... and she was supposed to dine with the court in the King's Hall! Eowyn raced to her chamber.
*~*~*~*~*
My goodness, I must look like something the dogs dragged in! I didn't even have time to braid my hair...oh, there's Aragorn and the Queen. Bow... try not to trip this time...good grief, I bet he's glad he managed not to end up married to me. I'll just stand here against the wall and hope no one notices me...
Not taking her eyes off the perfect Royal Couple, Eowyn backed up towards the nearest pillar. She normally hid her insecurity behind tomboyishness and bravado, but as she spent more and more time among the dozens of servent women, waiting women, and noblewomen who inhabited the top level of Minas Tirith, she found it harder and harder to keep her feelings to herself. Women! She'd never been around so many women in her life! Her entire life had been spent following in her older brother's and cousin's footsteps, in and out of Rohan's capital, Edoras. There had been no other ladies of Rohan's court to keep company with, and the servants were mostly men. Then the black days of Grima Wormtongue's treachery had come, and Eowyn had retreated further and further into herself.
Aragorn had seen her. He stood and motioned her towards the dais. You are not a weak Gondorian ninny, Eowyn! You are a shieldmaiden of Rohan. You have proved your worth in battle- and you will yet in the kitchen. They don't have to know that, anyway... Raising her chin, Eowyn straightened her back ramrod-stiff and walked towards the King.
"My Lord...My Lady..." She curtsied, then rose. Trying not to betray her nervousness, she slowly smoothed the folds of her Gondorian-style dark green gown. The one she had not had time to ask one of the servants to press the wrinkles out of, or to have properly fitted for her. It was slightly long, and slightly more than slightly too big in the bust. Her hair she had hastily tied back with a ribbon that matched neither the dress, nor her uncomfortable slippers.
"Lady Eowyn! We were greatly pleased that you could join us this evening. We heard you were staying in the city until your marriage, but things have been so hectic I haven't had time to greet you properly." Aragorn bestowed a genuinely friendly smile upon her, and Eowyn relaxed somewhat. So he wasn't bearing grudges. Wonderful! "I hope you're finding your rooms comfortable?"
"Yes, of course my lord! There's a lovely view of the mountains. Thank you so much for your hospitality. Is my brother not here tonight? For I daresay he wishes to thank you himself." Eowyn glanced around the hall. It was a sign of her preoccupation that she hadn't immediately sought out her brother when she arrived for dinner!
"I believe Eomer is still out touring the stables with Faramir. Strange... I would have expected them to be back by now..." Aragorn broke off as he saw Eowyn's face blanche. "Eowyn? Are you all right?"
"Forgive me, Aragorn. I was just imagining the plethora of horrors Eomer may even at this very moment be subjecting Faramir to...Eomer has yet to give his wholehearted approval for our marriage, you see. I wouldn't put it past him to torture the poor boy with pranks or something..." Eowyn remembered the various tricks Eomer had pulled while they had been growing up in Edoras.
Aragorn raised one eyebrow. He rather thought Faramir would object to being referred to as "the poor boy," and could more than likely take care of himself around Eomer. The young Steward had grown up with an older brother, after all. He decided to hold his silence, however.
The King rose. "Shall we eat?" He offered his arm to Arwen with a loving smile, and they stepped off the dais. "Don't fret, Eowyn. I'm sure Faramir is more than capable of dealing with an irate King of Rohan."
Aragorn and Arwen took their places at the head of the table. Eowyn walked to her seat alone. Drat it! Where was Faramir when she needed him? Now she had to make polite conversation with some distant cousin of his by herself. She enjoyed the food more than the company. It was excellent, and she privately reflected that she would after all always have servants to do the cooking and cleaning, so it really wasn't a complete catastrophe if she couldn't manage things by herself. Her embroidery, however, was another matter. . . from what she saw, needlework was all high-born ladies had to occupy themselves with in Gondor. How dull! Still, she was determined not to embarrass her husband.
Two pairs of boots striding quickly towards the hall became audible. Eowyn looked up in time to see Eomer and Faramir step into the room, breathing heavily and bringing a small cloud of dust along with them. They walked up to the table. Faramir bowed to Aragorn and Eomer inclined his head.
"I apologize for our late arrival, my Lord. We lost track of time. I hope we have not spoiled your dinner with our interruption?" Faramir spoke to the King but his eyes sought Eowyn's across the table. His dark eyes met her bright green ones, and his mouth turned up in a smile. Her heart swelled at the thought that he would smile just at seeing her; that she had to do nothing to prove her worth.
Eowyn allowed herself a moment to appreciate him. Raven hair, worn middling-long, fell around an intelligent, kind face. He was tall and muscular, though her brother was bulkier, and he wore no beard. That fact secretly pleased her. The Rohirrim she had grown up with all began flaunting their facial hair as soon as physically possible. Eomer's frequent teasing of Faramir's clean-shaven face had yet to convince the Steward to grow a beard, of which she was thankful.
Arwen answered. "Not at all, Faramir. But by your looks, you have an interesting story to relate as to why you are so late." She looked expectantly at the two miscreants. Eomer shifted slightly on his feet.
"I must confess, Lady Arwen, that I could not resist challenging Faramir to a race after seeing some of the fine horses in your royal stables. I would have beaten him sooner, but I am new to this city and do not know all the streets as of yet..."
"Beat me! I daresay! But no doubt it would have been a closer match had you not taken the King's horse and left me with your own paltry nag!" Faramir broke into a grin when Eomer glanced nervously at Aragorn.
"Do you force me to defend the honor of my horse, sir?" Eomer asked indignantly.
"Enough!" laughed Arwen. "It is quite clear that you have both returned in disgrace. Faramir for losing, and Eomer for borrowing the King's horse without permission. You must be hungry- please, sit down and eat." Arwen returned to her meal and Aragorn bowed his head to whisper to her.
"You handled that beautifully, my dear" as he clasped her hand.
There was an empty seat to Eowyn's left. Faramir headed towards it, but Eomer stepped rudely in front of him to claim the chair. Eowyn glared at her brother. "Will you never grow up, Eomer?"
"Just because you're engaged doesn't mean you have to flaunt your lust in front of everyone. Some of us would like to eat in peace." Eowyn's face grew red as her brother reached across her to help himself to a piece of meat pie.
"Flaunt our lust?" She whispered harshly. "Flaunt our lust? We're in love, Eomer, not involved in an affair! Really, have you no manners, to say such things at the King's table?" Eowyn clenched her fists under the table.
"Calm down. I'm just trying to keep you two from disgracing yourselves before your wedding. If it were up to him you'd already be living together and—"
Trying desperately to keep from dumping her soup on her brother's head, Eowyn suddenly stood, grabbed his arm, and led him away from the table.
"How dare you impune Faramir's honor!" The irate shieldmaiden attempted to keep her voice low. "He's just as noble as you are, and you know it! I don't know why you're so upset... Eomer, don't you want me to be happy?"
His eyebrows drew together in concern. "Of course I do! You're the only family I have left, Eowyn—I want only the best for you. But it's hard to let you go, and I don't want to do it any sooner than I have to." He clasped her shoulder.
"In the future, will you please try to control yourself in public?" Still glaring, Eowyn stalked back to the table. "My apologies. . ." she began, but Aragorn waved her formality away.
"It's quite all right, Eowyn. I think we all understand the trials siblings sometimes go through." The king bestowed a smile upon her, and Eowyn glowed. Though no longer infatuated with Aragorn, she respected him deeply and wanted only his wholehearted approval of her.
When the meal was over, the guests retired to their own homes or quarters. A thought occurred to Eowyn, and she ran down the hallway after the Queen.
"Arwen...lady Arwen! May I have a word with you?"
The elf turned around. Perfectly graceful, as always Eowyn thought wryly. Why can't I be more like her? She stopped herself. I don't need to be exactly like her... I'd just like a little help dealing with matters of etiquette, that's all. Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath.
"I'm sure you saw my display with my brother at dinner. I noticed the way you were able to handle his argument with Faramir, and I can't help but admire your ability to always deal with every crisis- however minor!- that occurs. I don't know you very well, my lady, but I was wondering... well, I was wondering if you'd be willing to teach me how to be a... how to be more of a... a lady."