Delight shone in Éowun's eyes as one of the healers helped her to her feet. For the past couple of weeks she had been bedridden and although visitors had come and gone she would have much preferred to be up and about. One could always find one of three people in her company. If her brother Éomer was not seeing her then surely Legolas was entertaining her with some story. However if neither of these two could be found at her bedside then Faramir, the new Stewart of Gondor by right, would engage her in conversation. Not only once had it occur to that this man liked her.
"But do I like him?" she asked herself in a whisper, walking along with the wall as support after she had shooed the healer away. He was a good man, of noble sort and a brave warrior. In time she could perhaps grow fond of him, she may even fall in love with him. Yet joining her life to his would only mean exchanging keepers. She would pass from her brother to her husband and in the end her status would not have changed at all but in name. The truth of it loomed threateningly over her. From one cage to another, for what man would understand her longing once she was a wife? Grey eyes darkened in a storm.
"What troubles you on such a fine day, my Lady?"
Éowyn was startled from her thought by a voice she now knew very well.
"Master Elf, have I not told you to address me by name?"
"I believe my request was the same."
They look at one another and smile, almost twin smiles. His unspoken question is answered with a slight inclination of the head And Legolas finds himself walking with her. They spoke about the most inconsequential of things.
The ebb and flow of conversation relaxed Éowyn greatly. Despite her worries she found herself in better spirit, with a ready smile on her features. If the Elf was aware of the change he said nothing, neither did he press matters with her qualms. She was grateful to him for that.
Her cheerfulness lasted well into the evening when she was again left with her thoughts. In thinking the matters over she discovered that what Faramir felt towards her was much like the feelings she had nurtured towards Aragorn. It was a mix of care, admiration and respect; it was love in its incipient form. Again she found herself questioning if that was enough for her. Would she be able to morph her spirit and put all her frustrations behind her with this tiny branch as assurance?
The answer flashed in her mind. Éowyn knew herself well enough; she had known it was not enough. It was not glory she sought, neither death. What she wanted was a little measure of freedom. The choice in her hands. She asked for nothing more.
There were times when she felt that only her newest friend understood her, for she had confided in Legolas about her dreams of freedom. He had looked ahead into the horizon and her heart knew he comprehended even if he had said nothing.