A million thanks to Cathy for pointing out that the events should take
place in 82 F.A., not 80. I was honestly looking right at that section in
the appendix but being quite distracted I put 80 instead of 82.... Thus I
am reposting this!
A/N: At times an idea strikes you so suddenly you can do nothing save write it immediatly. I would like to apologize for the following: The fact that House of Healing still remains on hitatis despite the fact that I finished my exams hours ago. Also I'm sorry for the overuse of the word ere. I believed it would become monotonous with before every third word so now it is ere every third word! Again my spelling and grammer are forever lacking and I'm just too lazy to have someone Beta this.... Also millions of apologies for the quotation marks as both my compute and ff.net seem out to get me.
Please review, I'd be much obliged and might even return the favor!
Lauren
* * * * * * *
82 F.A.
I swore to him countless years ago, ere our children were born and grew, ere we faced the steady decay of old age together, when our profound love for one another was young and breathtakingly thrilling, that I would never once leave his side, that we would face every challenge together, 'til death seized one of us. Even then our vows would not be forsaken for in the next realm we would be united, for eternity. Death approaches now, looming before us, lurking around the corner, yet it does not frighten me. Once I sought death, once I fervently wished for the spirit of death to bear me away, once I yearned for nothing but a death in battle, valiantly perishing in war. Once life held naught but pain and grief for me and I could not glimpse it's beauty. Once to me death would be my salvation, my only salvation.
The threads of life twist and turn and at times fate, who often knows better than even we, intervenes, altering the course of our life. 'Twas by fate I encountered the man who would eventually bestow upon me hope, provide solace in his very presence, seize my ability to even breathe with his whispers and kisses, wrought in passion, grief and the purest, truest, most profound love.
His onyx hair is streaked in grey, his handsome, angular features etched with lines, lines of worry, lines of anguish, lines of joy, now. Yet to me he is as awe-striking to behold as he first was, standing alone in the garden of the Houses of Healing, wind toying with his ebony tendrils of hair and his green cloak.
A wan smile plays on his lips and he gives my limp hand, now knotted and wrinkled, a gentle squeeze. He combs my now pure white hair away from my face, delicately and reverently brushes his lips across my brow. It is a touch I have felt many times before yet never once did his kisses, some gentle, others painfully honest as he relayed his feeling for me, fail to leave me void of breath. His lips, cracked and worn, linger on mine for a fleeting second and memories engulf me.
"Do you remember the first time ever you kissed me?" I ask, the words excruciating to say as my life span draws to a close.
"How could I forget?" he says with playful laughter that almost mocks the somberness of our mood. "My actions took me quite by surprise and I dare say I appalled you that morn as well."
"You rendered the townspeople quite speechless also, Faramir," I say wearily ere closing my grey eyes, unsure if ever I would ever open once more to behold the beauty of the world Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien, my husband, taught me to see. I recall all the kisses we shared, commencing from that first kiss upon the immaculate sheer walls of Minas Tirith. The stolen kisses ere we were publicly troth plighted, the chaste public kiss he bestowed upon me at out wedding, the passionate, torrid kisses later. All those times when I would fly into fits of rage and he would grasp my shoulders, ensnaring my lips and embracing me until tears were coursing down my cheeks and I begged for forgiveness for my fury and rash actions.
"Do you fear death?" he asks.
"Death to me is not formidable but I do not relish in passing from this world. For endless years, infinite risings and settings of the sun I was petrified of nothing. Only when I learned to love did I begin to be fearful of anything, aghast of losing someone I hold so dear," I answer with great effort, opening my grey eyes, that have lost none of their intensity with old age. "I do not wish to be alone, Faramir," I choke, between sobs. "Once I was alone, utterly forsaken and...." I murmur.
"And I was your salvation. Never will I abandon you, Éowyn. Death is just one more obstacle we must confront. Death will delve a fissure between of physical beings but never shall I abandon my love for you. And soon, very soon, I shall join you, for Eowyn, I can not bear to live without you. I will not...."
I reach up with what feeble strength I still posses and caress his face, consoling him as he often did me. My hand eventually slips away and my breathing becomes even more labored, the beating of my heart lethargic, umbra engulfing me. Remotely I harken to voices wafting from above, voices I have not heard in countless years, beckoning me. Voices of my father, my mother, my recently departed brother, my cousin, my uncle. Then, distant, remote but intimate I hear the voice of my husband calling to me through his weeping. Ere the beating of my heart ceases, ere I take my terminal breath, ere I depart from this realm of existence I feel Faramir's lips tarry on mine and his last words, words that echo and haunt me.
"Good bye, White Lady of Rohan. Good bye, Éowyn. Good bye, my love."
* * * * * * *
A/N: Those who are learned in Lord of the Ring's date will know that 82 F.A. is also when Faramir died yet Éowyn's death was never noted and I always percieved them to be the type of couple who when one would pass on the other would die of a broken heart mere days later. Eomer died in 1484 Shire Reckoning and I calclated that out to be around 63 F.A.
A/N: At times an idea strikes you so suddenly you can do nothing save write it immediatly. I would like to apologize for the following: The fact that House of Healing still remains on hitatis despite the fact that I finished my exams hours ago. Also I'm sorry for the overuse of the word ere. I believed it would become monotonous with before every third word so now it is ere every third word! Again my spelling and grammer are forever lacking and I'm just too lazy to have someone Beta this.... Also millions of apologies for the quotation marks as both my compute and ff.net seem out to get me.
Please review, I'd be much obliged and might even return the favor!
Lauren
* * * * * * *
82 F.A.
I swore to him countless years ago, ere our children were born and grew, ere we faced the steady decay of old age together, when our profound love for one another was young and breathtakingly thrilling, that I would never once leave his side, that we would face every challenge together, 'til death seized one of us. Even then our vows would not be forsaken for in the next realm we would be united, for eternity. Death approaches now, looming before us, lurking around the corner, yet it does not frighten me. Once I sought death, once I fervently wished for the spirit of death to bear me away, once I yearned for nothing but a death in battle, valiantly perishing in war. Once life held naught but pain and grief for me and I could not glimpse it's beauty. Once to me death would be my salvation, my only salvation.
The threads of life twist and turn and at times fate, who often knows better than even we, intervenes, altering the course of our life. 'Twas by fate I encountered the man who would eventually bestow upon me hope, provide solace in his very presence, seize my ability to even breathe with his whispers and kisses, wrought in passion, grief and the purest, truest, most profound love.
His onyx hair is streaked in grey, his handsome, angular features etched with lines, lines of worry, lines of anguish, lines of joy, now. Yet to me he is as awe-striking to behold as he first was, standing alone in the garden of the Houses of Healing, wind toying with his ebony tendrils of hair and his green cloak.
A wan smile plays on his lips and he gives my limp hand, now knotted and wrinkled, a gentle squeeze. He combs my now pure white hair away from my face, delicately and reverently brushes his lips across my brow. It is a touch I have felt many times before yet never once did his kisses, some gentle, others painfully honest as he relayed his feeling for me, fail to leave me void of breath. His lips, cracked and worn, linger on mine for a fleeting second and memories engulf me.
"Do you remember the first time ever you kissed me?" I ask, the words excruciating to say as my life span draws to a close.
"How could I forget?" he says with playful laughter that almost mocks the somberness of our mood. "My actions took me quite by surprise and I dare say I appalled you that morn as well."
"You rendered the townspeople quite speechless also, Faramir," I say wearily ere closing my grey eyes, unsure if ever I would ever open once more to behold the beauty of the world Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien, my husband, taught me to see. I recall all the kisses we shared, commencing from that first kiss upon the immaculate sheer walls of Minas Tirith. The stolen kisses ere we were publicly troth plighted, the chaste public kiss he bestowed upon me at out wedding, the passionate, torrid kisses later. All those times when I would fly into fits of rage and he would grasp my shoulders, ensnaring my lips and embracing me until tears were coursing down my cheeks and I begged for forgiveness for my fury and rash actions.
"Do you fear death?" he asks.
"Death to me is not formidable but I do not relish in passing from this world. For endless years, infinite risings and settings of the sun I was petrified of nothing. Only when I learned to love did I begin to be fearful of anything, aghast of losing someone I hold so dear," I answer with great effort, opening my grey eyes, that have lost none of their intensity with old age. "I do not wish to be alone, Faramir," I choke, between sobs. "Once I was alone, utterly forsaken and...." I murmur.
"And I was your salvation. Never will I abandon you, Éowyn. Death is just one more obstacle we must confront. Death will delve a fissure between of physical beings but never shall I abandon my love for you. And soon, very soon, I shall join you, for Eowyn, I can not bear to live without you. I will not...."
I reach up with what feeble strength I still posses and caress his face, consoling him as he often did me. My hand eventually slips away and my breathing becomes even more labored, the beating of my heart lethargic, umbra engulfing me. Remotely I harken to voices wafting from above, voices I have not heard in countless years, beckoning me. Voices of my father, my mother, my recently departed brother, my cousin, my uncle. Then, distant, remote but intimate I hear the voice of my husband calling to me through his weeping. Ere the beating of my heart ceases, ere I take my terminal breath, ere I depart from this realm of existence I feel Faramir's lips tarry on mine and his last words, words that echo and haunt me.
"Good bye, White Lady of Rohan. Good bye, Éowyn. Good bye, my love."
* * * * * * *
A/N: Those who are learned in Lord of the Ring's date will know that 82 F.A. is also when Faramir died yet Éowyn's death was never noted and I always percieved them to be the type of couple who when one would pass on the other would die of a broken heart mere days later. Eomer died in 1484 Shire Reckoning and I calclated that out to be around 63 F.A.