AN: IT'S THE END, GUYS! I've been writing this disaster for two years. Thanks for all the reviews.

Day Six:

I have not written for some days. I find that I have nothing to write. Gondor is preparing to welcome their returning victors home and the city is quite busy. Faramir left the House a few days after we received the victorious news. He will hold the office of steward for a short time and he will not mind giving the keys back to the king, when he returns, I think, for he never wanted to rule. Merry has also gone, and I am left friendless.

I could leave the House. My brother asked me to go to the fields of Cormallen and I could, if I wished. For I am hale now. And yet, I do not. I do not go because I do not wish to see Aragorn I am afraid of what I will feel. Of what I will not feel. My feelings are so tangled and confused.

How can I love someone I only met a handful of days ago? And yet. I feel I do know Faramir after out hours of conversing. I thought that I loved Aragorn, and I knew him less than Faramir. And how do I know if Faramir loves me? He did kiss me, but it could have been from the joy of the moment, I cannot guess and now he is gone and I do not know when I will see him again. It always my lot to be left behind by men?

Day Seven:

There is so much I must write! I can hardly believe what has happened. I do not know what would have become of me if the event of today had not occurred. It had been several days since I had written. I felt as I first did when I came to this house.

I had ignored my brother's summons. I walked in the gardens I had frequented with Faramir.

I was in one of these gardens, by the high city walls when someone came up to me, Faramir. "Èowyn," he said, and he seemed almost nervous. "I wish to speak with you. Shall we go up on the wall?"

I agreed. As we walked, he questioned me, "I did not think you would still be in Gondor, tell me, why have you not gone to see your brother and Aragorn and the Cormallen fields?"

What could I say? I tried to word my answer so it would not sound as if I were some lovesick girl who cannot face the man who scorned her. But before I could speak, he said, "Is it, perhaps, because you do not want to be separated from me?"

I had never consciously thought of this, but I realized it was one of the reasons I had remained. We had parted hastily and I did not want to go, if there was any possibility of me seeing him again.

"And maybe," he continued, "You also do not go because you are loathe to see Aragorn, if you now love another."

I did not know how he had guessed at my feelings or why he had brought the matter up: to return or rebuff my feelings?

"You have guessed correctly," I told him, quietly and I did not meet his gaze.

Faramir stopped walking, then, and turned to look directly at me, "Èowyn," he questioned, "do you not love me?"

I met his eyes and I could not tell if they were filled with love, or pity. I did not wish to be pitied and told him this. Faramir answered that once he had pitied me but no longer and that even if I was a glorious queen of Gondor he would still love me. And I believed him; he had given me so much, had saved my soul from the death that it once desired so much. I knew, suddenly, how to repay him. I could give myself to him totally, and continue to do so for as long as I lived.

He had asked again, "Do you not love me?"

I stood in the sunlight and raised my eyes to meet his. "Yes." I was no longer afraid. "I love you. This wild shieldmaiden will marry you, if you will have her."

Then Faramir kissed me and I took that as an affirmative response to my proposal.

I will continue to stay in this House but it no longer feels prison-like. The prison was only in my mind and I am freed now.

I have come to the end of my little book. The woman who first wrote in it is no more. Perhaps I shall give it to historians upon my death. There will be many accounts of the battles that took place recently, but perhaps some will like to read my story.

These are the accounts of Éowyn lady of Rohan who has slain the Witch-King's steed and felled the Witch-King himself with the help of Master Meridoc the Hobbit, and whose darkness was extinguished by love.

Goodbye,

Èowyn