Disclaimer: Eowyn, Aragorn, and everything associated with Middle-earth belong to Tolkien. For brevity's sake, this disclaimer applies to the entire story.
A/N: This fic will be a 30 Day OTP challenge featuring Eowyn/Aragorn. Some chapters, like this one, will take place in the movieverse, others in the bookverse. They will be designated by ~MV~ or ~BV~. For example, this first oneshot is bookverse. Some chapters will be one-sided, others will not. The tones between chapters set in the bookverse and those in the movieverse are going to be markedly different at times, because I feel that the Éowyn of the book and the Éowyn of the movie are in reality two separate characters.
~BV~
When I was a small child, my mother sat by my bed and told me stories of heroes and shieldmaidens, of our noble ancestors and the fair horses that bore them. Late at night, she whispered Elvish legends and laughed at the silliness of my uncle's councilors. After my father died, the stories changed. Amidst her mourning, she spoke frequently of how she fell in love with Éomund the warrior. As my mother sickened, she told me to be brave. She knew she was dying. Grief can kill, the same as any sword. Kneeling at her side, I wept and begged her not to leave me. She promised that someday I would fall in love and never again be alone. I did not believe her. Love seemed an impossible, cruel thing, to take my mother from me.
Gandalf Greyhame arrived today and brought an elf, a man, and a dwarf with him. Aragorn, as the man is called, prevented me from rushing to my uncle's aid while the wizard freed him from an evil spirit. To my shock, my arm burned where Aragorn touched me. I do not understand this; I have felt cold for so long. The wizard and his companions urge my uncle to ride out against the Orcs at last. Their counsel seems sound, their words courageous. But perhaps it is not my mind speaking – I still see that man's face when I close my eyes. Love has fallen upon me at last. I fear it will be cruel.
All feedback is greatly appreciated.