The new and revamped version of MOAS! Woohoo! A few changes made here and there. More chapters added. Woot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Middle-earth or anyone who lives there. Oh, how I wish I lived there. I'm not making money off of this. This disclaimer applies to all the chapters, because I'm too lazy to keep typing it over and over.
Author's Note: I've researched my butt off for this fanfic, as it's my first non-parody LotR one, and I've still found many gaps in the information on Rohirric culture. Thus, I've had to use a bit of creative license at times. Bear with me--however, if you find something that's really not right, feel free to pull a Treebeard and set an army of angry Ents on me. I'd appreciate it and would fix whatever mistake I made. (I'd also probably die, but that's beside the point.)
Dedication: To Hammy, for supporting me in my crankiness and self-hate during the early days of the idea-formation, and for encouraging me to post the beginning. To Arwen and Bjam, for being a source of inspiration and bits of joy. And to Éowyn, for letting me tell your story the best I can.
Okay, enough preamble, here's the story.
--Speechless
Intro
Memories of a Shieldmaiden
[June 3020, T.A.]
Faramir's arm was wrapped around my shoulder. He leaned his head against mine, his coal-black waves intertwining with my golden ones. The deep blue of the late summer sky seemed to cloak the forests of Ithilien in silky darkness, wrapping my heart gently in the soft glow of the stars. Isil was in full glory, a pearl in the calm of the sky. Relief swept over me anew as I realized I would never have to deal with anything from my old life again, though ghosts and phantoms from my past still visited me as I slept. Whenever I awoke, screaming in my native tongue for help, or moaning for my brother, my husband would cradle me in his arms like a child and whisper me back to sleep. Suddenly I clasped his hand tightly, and he turned to look at me.
You are troubled? he inquired, his brow furrowed concernedly. I shook my head no, but I hesitated for a moment after my lie. Of course I was troubled; how could I not be, even in the soothing warmth of his embrace? I thought of home, so far away... No, I corrected myself, Edoras is not your home. This is your home now.
I answered vaguely, knowing this would only stir more questions. Faramir was ever interested in my thoughts, and was always eager to share his.
Of Rohan.
I sighed, imagining the stretches of green grass, the sound of the horses shaking the earth with their thunderous hooves, the River Snowbourn's ice blue ripples in the sun.
You have barely told me anything about your past, he whispered. And I hear you in the night, and I would console you of your fears if I only knew enough of what caused them. I was silent. My skills in the Rohirric Tongue are lacking.
I do not wish to revisit my childhood, I said with a shiver. It would bring me pain.
It brings you pain now, but perhaps if you shared it with me I could help you to drive away the memories, if that is what you desire. He drew me closer to him and kissed me lightly on the cheek. When I did not answer, he went on. The memories of a Shieldmaiden would be deeply interesting to such a plain man as I. For am I not married to this Shieldmaiden, who hides herself from me still? I wish to know you truly, Éowyn. And then I shall let you know me.
All the while he said this my mind had been flooded with images from my youth, as if a dam had been broken somewhere inside. The pain I felt every day as my Rohan collapsed around me, my life being encroached upon by a powerhungry rat of a man, the loss of so many whom I had loved... Tears began to stream down my face, and I buried my head on his shoulder.
I cannot lose you, my love, I said in between shuddering gasps. Long ago I would never display my emotions so, for it was a sign of weakness. But now I did not care if I was weak or strong, tall or short, plump or thin as long as this man would still be with me and hold me. I must not lose you!
Startled by such a strong reaction to his suggestion, he embraced me tightly.
You aren't losing me, love, he reassured me. I straightened up, and I felt the dull hopeless sinking in my stomach as I prepared myself to relive my worst days.
After my father's death, as I stood watching the smoke where his horse was being burned, a toothless old woman came up to me. She told me in such a life I must expect loss.
