She is beautiful. There is nothing in Middle Earth I can compare her beauty to. As pale and pure as the first snowflake falling in winter and just as intricate.
In sleep she is at peace. During her waking hours I still see traces of the despair that for so long consumed her heart, but like that first snowflake, her cold exterior is easily melted. I marvel now at the change in her; where once an attempt at conversation would be met with blunt answers, now I am greeted with enthusiasm and a light in her eyes. Only very occasionally do I find a remnant of her former self, but a kind word, a gentle kiss is always suffice to bring her back.
She stirs very slightly in her sleep, and I suppress the urge to awaken her, to run my fingers through the golden hair that frames her face so well, and to kiss her deeply, allowing my passion to overtake us both. Before meeting her I was no stranger to a woman's touch, but it is only now, in our marriage bed that I have come to appreciate the union between a man and woman for the wondrous thing that it is.
An unwelcome thought creeps up on me. I nearly lost her. When first we announced our betrothal to each other an exchange occurred between her and our King. "Wish me joy my liege-lord and healer," she had said to him, admiration and love in her eyes. My heart had plummeted. I knew she had strong feelings for Aragorn, but my heart and mind were suddenly overcome with despair. I felt merely to be a consolation prize she had accepted knowing that she could never be loved by the only one she truly desired. Later that evening I had looked into her eyes through my own curtain of tears. She asked me no questions regarding my sadness; instead she brushed away my tears with a gentle touch and kissed my lips deeply, withdrawing only to breathe the words, "I love you." There was no deceit in her voice and I understood her love for Aragorn; the love of a sister for her brother, nothing more or less. Earlier that evening I had been willing to let her go, not wanting to be second best to another man, but in that instant, in that kiss, our lives and fates became one.
I worry sometimes that I dote on her too much and that she will take my affection as though it is the first bar of a cage, though I know now that if she began to feel this way she would tell me in no uncertain voice that this was the case. Besides, if she were a caged animal her beauty would no doubt begin to fade and as such it is my best interest to keep her wild and free.
I can no longer bear to watch her sleep. I lean over her, brushing a few strands of hair away from her pristine face. "Eowyn," I whisper in her ear, then gently rouse her with the softest of kisses. Her eyes flutter slowly open and she reaches up to touch my face, drawing me back towards her to return the kiss. Passions fire deep within me and I break away before I lose all control. Looking deep into her eyes a question is both asked and answered without words ever needing to be spoken. As we make love I am reminded that I am the luckiest man on Middle Earth, and that we have the rest of our lives to live together in bliss.
"I love you, Eowyn."