Aragorn sighed silently, watching the last rays of the setting sun catch upon the shieldmaiden's flaxen locks. They billowed around her in the evening breeze, like a halo. So beautiful, so powerful. Yet his heart and soul belonged to another, and he could not give her up. Arwen was the night to Eowyn's day, the moonlight to her sunlight. Aragorn had spent his life running in darkness, and it was always the night that made him feel most alive.
Even now, his piercing blue eyes were transfixed on Eowyn's statuesque form, like the figurehead of an ancient ship. She lured him in, captivated him; so wild, untamed, strong. Arwen was perfect. Eowyn was mesmerising. It was impossible for Aragorn's heart to stray, for he had given it to the Elf many, many years before. But his mind…well, he was only a man: his mind was allowed to wander. Lost in his musing, the Ranger did not notice Eowyn come up next to him.
"My lord?" She spoke softly. "What is it that occupies your mind?"
"Nothing, my lady." He replied gently, laughter in his tone. "There is no need to be so formal. Please use my name."
"Okay… Aragorn." She smiled at him, and was relieved when she received one in return.
"Come, Eowyn. I am in the mood for some sword fighting."
Eowyn chuckled, her teeth flashing, and Aragorn was dazzled by her smile.
Moving out into the fields, the clashing of blades was punctuated by Aragorn's deep laugh, and Eowyn's higher giggle. A short time later, they stopped. Aragorn flopped down into the grass and pulled Eowyn with him. It was harmless, it was friendly. That's what he kept telling himself. Passing her an apple, Aragorn propped himself up on one elbow and watched as she ate. He was fascinated by her lips, wondering what they'd feel like on his. It wasn't love. Not quite.
That night, Aragorn sat by Eowyn's side, staring into the fire together. She couldn't sleep, her visions of death and darkness keeping her awake. Aragorn took her hand as the tears started to fall down her flushed cheeks. He pulled her in to his warm embrace. Arwen never left his thoughts, she was always there, always with him. She had him all, heart and soul. Just for tonight, Eowyn had his body. It was only friendship.
"Who is she - the woman who gave you that jewel?"
"She is very dear to me. I met her when I was quite young. An elf maiden." Aragorn said simply.
"Do you love her?" Eowyn asked, her tears falling harder.
"Yes." Aragorn turned away. Eowyn sighed sadly.
"Why?"
"She's independent and strong and powerful and beautiful."
"Could you love me?"
You…you remind me of her in many ways. I could love you. But I can't give you what you seek."
The shieldmaiden stood, pulling herself out of Aragorn's embrace. "Thank you for your honesty, my lord. Good night."
As she stalked out of the room, Aragorn's own tears fell. "Maybe, if I'd met you first." He whispered into the darkness of the hall.