Previously:
The Black Gate, Mordor, Third Age, Gwirith, 3019
"Mellon nin," Aragorn called. "If the Black Breath had touched Éowyn, then the defeat of the Witch-King and now the Dark Lord and all the Nazgûl may have woken her."
Legolas looked at Aragorn, then glanced across to Éomer, who nodded back to him. All three looked forward.
"I hope you are once again correct, Estel," Legolas replied.
As they moved on, Legolas looked up, far into the horizon, to Minas Tirith, which was too far for even his Elven sight to see. He looked to the sky and whispered to himself in prayer.
"Rise, Éowyn. I am coming to you," he said to the wind, hoping his words would carry to the Capital.
Chapter 7:
Minas Tirith, Gondor, Third Age, Gwirith, 3019
"I love you, Éowyn. Come back. It is not time for us to be parted yet."
"Legolas!"
Éowyn's eyes slowly opened. The light in the room was blinding to her and she shut her eyes tightly. Her head was throbbing and her arms seemed heavy and difficult to move. She could barely feel her fingers, and she felt cold, even though she was covered in blankets.
She forced her eyes open again and the bright light of the room soon dulled to a natural colour and intensity. She looked around and realized she was in Minas Tirith, in one of the private chambers in the healing halls. The cold walls were adorned with tapestries and banners, giving warmth to the space. She turned her head to one side and noticed her sword and armour placed in the corner. She turned in the other direction and noticed a bouquet of wildflowers arranged at her bedside.
"Legolas? Legolas!" she called, her voice weak.
"My Lady! Oh!"
Her maids came running into the room. Their faces looked tired and pale from lack of sleep but their smiles were joyful. One of them ran from the room to fetch the healers of Gondor.
"Where is Lord Legolas?" Éowyn asked.
"He was here for days, Milady. He never left thy side. Thy brother was here often as well. Lord Legolas kept speaking to you, even in Rohirric!"
"And where is he now?"
Her maids exchanged worried glances with each other.
"He and King Éomer have rode out with the Host of the West. They have gone to Mordor to face the Dark Lord, Milady."
The air was cold and damp. Éowyn pulled her cloak tighter around her. The leaf brooch of Lórien lay clasped between her fingers as she looked off into the distance.
"It is just the early morning dew of Spring, Lady Éowyn," Faramir smiled at her. "I do not believe that these dark days will remain."
"There is only one thing that will lift this darkness for me, Lord Faramir," Éowyn replied, keeping her gaze fixed to the horizon. "The return of my Lord."
"You are promised to someone, then?" Farmair asked.
"Aye."
"I am sorry for my ignorance, my Lady. You are not wearing a ring, and I did not know," he mumbled in apology.
Éowyn sighed slightly. "Surely you have heard the gossip, Lord Faramir? It flies about the White City just as it did at Edoras. You must have been told about me. I am the White Lady of Rohan, betrothed to Legolas, Elven Prince of Mirkwood."
"I did hear, but I did not put much weight in the gossip of strangers," Faramir admitted.
"That is wise, Lord Faramir," Éowyn replied, still not looking at him. "But this much is true – Legolas is my Lord and my beloved. He lifted me out of darkness in more ways than can be told, and so I gladly wait for him once again."
Faramir stayed quiet. He did not know how to speak to Éowyn. She had recovered from her injuries through some miracle, and the colour had returned to her skin and she walked purposefully with a strong stride now. Still, she wore a cold mask, like the overcast weather all around them, and he knew that many thoughts swirled within her.
"How are you, Lord Faramir?" Éowyn asked, still looking out beyond the walls. "Thy limp appears to have almost recovered."
"Yes," Faramir agreed. "I have been very fortunate. Mithrandir brought me back to the City, otherwise I would have become carrion for some beast on the field."
Éowyn nodded. "Gandalf and his companions have saved many a man," she said quietly.
"Would you eat, Lady Éowyn?" Faramir asked after a long pause. "It is mid-morning and you have not broken thy fast."
"Nay," Éowyn said quickly. She then exhaled and looked back at him for the first time. "I must go visit my uncle, the King. Please go ahead without me. Perhaps I shall see you at dinner with the others."
She bowed to him slightly, and turned towards the Tower of Ecthelion where Théoden lay. Faramir stepped after her.
"Lady Éowyn, I would accompany you if you would permit it," he asked.
Éowyn stopped and looked back at him. "Thy kindness is genuine, Lord Faramir, and despite my behaviour, it is appreciated. You are not of the House of Eorl, and there is no need to accompany me. I can find my way."
"I meant no offense, Lady Éowyn. I simply am concerned for you. You have not smiled or seemed at ease since you have awoken," Faramir explained.
"No offense was taken, Lord Faramir, and I intend no offense in my conduct towards thee. You are right. I have not smiled, and have not been at ease. And I will not smile, nor be at ease until my Lord returns. I am well familiar with this feeling of dread and despair, and hoping that tomorrow brings some news. Do not concern thyself that I may succumb to it, however. I shall not. I would have in another time, but I have been saved from such a fate, and I await for the return of my saviour. Good day, Lord Faramir."
Éowyn turned and continued on. One of her maids followed along. Faramir stood watching her disappear into the distance.
"My Lord," a voice called.
Faramir turned and saw one of the healer's attendants approach him.
"How is Lady Éowyn, my Lord? Have you been able to get through to her? We all worry about her condition."
"Nay," Faramir replied, looking back in the direction she had gone. "I have not been able to reach her. But do not fear. I suspect that someone else has already gotten through to her, and her condition is nothing to be concerned about as a result."
She reached the Tower of Ecthelion, where a guard of Gondorian knights and Rohirrim stood watch before Théoden's body. They bowed to Lady Éowyn and allowed her entry. She entered the chamber, the marble of the walls and floor gleaming white. It was a suitable resting place for a King, if only temporary, for Théoden belonged among the Tombs of the Kings on the other side of Minas Tirith, or more fittingly back in the barrows at Edoras. Éowyn thought of Théodred entombed there and she sighed. She had cried when she first visited her uncle after she woke, but this time, she looked on his pale face sadly, and no tears were shed.
"Uncle," she said softly, looking from his face to his sword and shield placed next to his body. "My strength returns with each day. I feel as though I am almost back to myself, and yet such a large part of me is missing. I know you are with thy ancestors, and that you rejoice with them as you deserve. I have no news of Éomer, uncle, or of Legolas, my Lord. I cannot rest until I learn of their fate, and whether they were successful in their assault on the Black Gate."
Éowyn said several prayers to King Théoden and bid him goodbye until the next day when she would again visit him. She turned and walked stoically from the chamber. As she cleared the line of guards, she noticed a familiar face approach her.
"My Lady," the man bowed to her. "It is an honour to see that you have recovered."
"Elfhelm," Éowyn smiled politely, nodding her head. "Aye, I am slowly regaining my strength. I was told that my brother left you in command of the garrison."
"Aye," Elfhelm replied as he fell in step with her. "We defeated a legion of Orcs that attempted to attack Gondor from Anórien. We lost far too many men, but we remain a host of 3,000 Eorlingas."
"Well done, Elfhelm. You do us proud. Ensure that the Rohirrim are adequately sheltered and fed. We shall remain at Minas Tirith until word comes from the Army of the West."
"Aye, my Lady," Elfhelm bowed once more before leaving.
She kept a vigil each day, sometimes looking out the window of her chamber and sometimes walking the walls. Faramir continued to visit her, but she refused to let him walk with her. She had been rather callous in her rebuke at the beginning, but she was more courteous in her explanation as the days wore on.
"Walking along the walls is a privilege that I guard closely, Lord Faramir. You have done me no insult, but I must insist that neither you nor anyone else walk out with me along the walls. My maids know to leave me during these moments, and I would ask the same of thee."
The next day, Faramir joined her again looking out from the tower near her chamber. Dark clouds still lingered in the sky, and Éowyn sighed to herself. There had been no word and as she played with the silver and jade bracelet on her wrist, she became increasingly anxious. Faramir was making idle chatter, and she was answering in one word replies. Her mind was elsewhere.
All she knew was that her uncle was dead and Gondor was safe, for now. She knew not the fate of Legolas, or Éomer, or Aragorn, or any of the others. She was ruler of Rohan at the moment, and though she did not want to face it, she had concerns now that were larger than herself.
When she pledged herself to Legolas, the land was at War. They were desperate, even he, an Elf who had lived through two Ages, feared what was to come. It felt incredibly right and their time together was the happiest of her life. She had bid him goodbye to ride the Paths of the Dead, and she had gone to War as Dernhelm, neither knowing if they would see each other again.
Now, as she stood facing the dark, sunless sky, she lived. Somehow, she lived. She had faced the Witch-King, the evil leader of the Ringwraiths who had felled many a great warrior, and she lived. Whatever Legolas' fate, her duty now was with her people. Whether it was to steel them in their final days as the host of Mordor descended upon them, or to lead them in rebuilding the Mark, she was the White Lady, and she did not know what place she could have in Legolas' world. It was easy to love him, as she still did with all of her heart, when they did not know what lay ahead. It was easy to love him with the spectre of death all around her. It was easy to love him when her duty was only as a member of the House of Eorl, and not as the regent of an entire nation. She had followed her heart and her desire and known a joy she did not believe could exist for her. But now reality was all around her and closing in. Gondor and Rohan would need to be united, and if the host of Men had failed, then she was all that was left for her people to rely upon.
Faramir looked at her and she returned his gaze. He was handsome in his own way, this Steward of Gondor. He would be diligent and dutiful, she believed. She had never seen him in battle, or raise his voice in anger. He was a thoughtful man, it seemed to her, and he would be an adept politician, a man one could build an alliance with, or defend a land in its last moments. Faramir is noble and would make a capable husband, she thought.
But she also knew what he was not. Her heart knew very clearly who he was not. How much longer could she endure? If Legolas and Éomer did not return, could she lead her people alone?
"Rise, Éowyn. I am coming to you."
His voice was a whisper in her heart and mind, carried on the wind and up to the tower where she stood. She turned from Faramir and looked out, not knowing from where her lover's call had come, but knowing for certain it was not a figment of her imagination.
Her eyes went wide as she recalled his voice in another time, calling to her, raising her from injury and pain. The Black Breath, the healers had called it. Her maids had told her about those who had attended to her. Aragorn and Gandalf had treated her wounds and Legolas and Éomer had held a vigil over her. She did not remember any of that. All she could remember now was the soothing touch on her face and her Lord's voice, firm and commanding, refusing to be ignored and compelling her to obey. His harmonious voice calling her back to the land of the living. His voice rang in her mind when she woke in the healing rooms days ago, and her first and only thought was to look for him.
And now once more, she heard his call. His voice was strong and confident, his words full of hope and love and the promise of his return and their joyful reunion. How could she have doubted him? How could she have doubted their love? She desperately scanned the lower levels and the road, looking to the horizon for some sign of him. Her heart called out for him. Her fingers touched her lips as she recalled his touch.
"My Lady! Look!"
Faramir pointed into the distance, but Éowyn was not looking at him. She had seen it already as she scanned here and there looking for the source of Legolas' voice. A ray of light shone through the clouds, a single spear at first, before it brightened and strengthened, and spread, cleaving the clouds before it and bathing the Fields of Cormallen and the Pelennor in warmth. The sunlight reached the City and washed across it, moving from the lower levels up across the walls, climbing quickly and indefatigably, before it blanketed the balcony upon which she stood and flew higher still to light the mountains behind Minas Tirith.
Éowyn blinked several times as she stood now in sun bathed warmth. All of Minas Tirith shone, and she heard murmurs and shouts come out from the levels below. People came outside from their homes and looked up to the sky, as they had not seen the sun for weeks it seemed, and they wondered at where it had now come from. In the distance, the River Anduin sparkled like the silver back of a fish, the water glistening as it roared along its path.
Éowyn smiled, shaking her head and forgetting all thoughts and doubts that had crept into her mind just moments ago.
"My Lord returns," Éowyn whispered, and she grinned, her smile wider than any Faramir had seen since she had awoken.
She heard the horns. Everyone heard the horns. They were not war cries, but rather jubilant calls, as if the men wielding the horns were yelling their joy through their instruments, calling out to any and all who would hear. Great eagles were seen near the Tower of Ecthelion, mythical creatures that some did not believe existed. They vanished as quickly as they came, such that many in the City did not believe they were ever there. Rumours and gossip flew through Minas Tirith. Aragorn had been victorious they said. Sauron had fallen. There was still no sign of the host on the road, and the people were anxious, not prepared just yet to let their guard down to accept that their long night may well be over.
"It seems that Aragorn and the Host of the West have won, if rumours are to be believed," Faramir said cautiously as they walked through the markets of the White City. The streets were now bustling with people enjoying the sunshine. Éowyn only nodded, still looking out to the distance.
Faramir gathered his courage and called her name softly, getting her attention as she turned her face to him.
"Lady Éowyn, I am curious as to thy loyalty to Lord Legolas. He is Elfkind. I am sorry, but I have never heard of such a union, except in the legends of yore," he said carefully.
Éowyn smirked. The first time he had seen any humour cross her face.
"I understand thy curiosity, Lord Faramir," she said easily. "In fact, I would have shared it mere months ago. Lord Legolas and I are a source of puzzlement for many, I know. To explain it to thee would take many hours and tales, and could take mere seconds as well. I will simply tell thee that we are betrothed to each other. When he returns, I think you will easily see."
"And thy union was arranged between Rohan and Mirkwood?"
"Nay," Éowyn shook her head, amused almost by his foolishness. "It was neither born from politics nor duty, Lord Faramir. It is neither the confirmation of an alliance nor a payment for past deeds. It would exist whether we were the Prince of Mirkwood and the Princess of Rohan, or two commoners living in the wilderness."
"Then it is the creation of?"
"Of love, Steward of Gondor," she answered quietly. "Legolas loves me, despite that I have made it very difficult for him to do so. And I love my Lord, more than I honestly believed that I was capable of loving my husband."
"And if he does not return, Lady Éowyn?" Faramir asked quietly.
Éowyn lost her smirk and frowned, not looking at him.
"Elves give their love to only one betrothed for all eternity, Lord Faramir," Éowyn said coldly.
"Forgive me, my Lady, but you are not an Elf," Faramir said.
"Nay, I am not," Éowyn replied. "But I am pledged to one, to a Prince and champion among Elves and Men. Legolas has not fallen, Lord Faramir. Aragorn would not be victorious without him."
"But how can you know?"
"Legolas is constant. I know he and his love are with me, even when I cannot see him, Lord Faramir."
"But my Lady," Faramir persisted. "I have the utmost respect for Lord Legolas, for he battled in Fellowship with my brother Boromir, and he is a warrior and as noble as any Prince of Men. But he is Elfkind. He will live well beyond the rest of thy remaining years. Each day that you look upon him, you will see a reminder of his immortality ever unchanging, while you diminish. It is a hard burden to carry, I would expect. Such is why it is called the Doom of Men."
"Steward of Gondor," Éowyn replied, her voice cold and hard. "I shall forgive thy insolence for I would have shared it had I been in another position. It is very easy for Elves and Men alike to look upon my Lord and I, or Lord Aragorn and his betrothed and wonder why we are together. I am certain that such questions were asked even of Beren and Lúthien in a past Age. To know a love such as ours, be it for mere days, months, even years, is well worth any hardship that may come. You speak as though it is ordained that Legolas will outlive me, or that he will be forced to watch me wither as his handsome face remains evergreen. Nothing is guaranteed to us, Lord Faramir. I have seen far too many die before their time to know this cruel lesson. So you and any number of naysayers and non-believers will need to come up with a better argument against my union with Legolas than the fact that a few wrinkles may trouble him. I assure you he would scoff at such foolishness, as do I."
"Forgive me, Lady Éowyn," Faramir said. "But I still do not understand."
"I am sure that you do not," Éowyn replied. "And I am sorry for thee."
Three days later, messengers arrived to Minas Tirith, bringing news that spread quickly from the Gate through the levels of the capital like fire. It was true. Aragorn and the Men of the West had defeated the Host of Mordor at the Black Gate. The people scurried about, gossiping and making their homes and businesses ready for the return of the Army and all that would follow.
Éowyn watched from the battlements each day. The White City was alive with excitement following the return of the messengers. She turned when she felt eyes upon her and her mouth opened as Gandalf stood before her. She bowed reverently.
"Master Wizard," Éowyn said softly.
"White Lady of Rohan," Gandalf smiled back. "It gives me great joy to see thee back among us."
"Thank you, Gandalf," she replied. "I heard my Lord's call and he woke me from deep slumber."
Gandalf's eyes widened at this news. "Truly," he said curiously. "Legolas will be very interested to hear of thy tale."
Éowyn could not help but smile. "So my Lord still lives, Gandalf?" she asked quietly.
Gandalf smiled at her paternally. "Yes, Lady Éowyn. He shall be here very soon I believe. But you already knew that, didn't you? You feel it, do you not? In thy heart?"
Éowyn bowed her head. "Aye, I do," she whispered.
"Thank you, White Wizard," Éowyn continued. "I was told that you and Lord Aragorn tended to my wounds when I was brought to the healing rooms. I am truly grateful as I am sure thy powers were required by many following the battle."
"It was not I that healed you, White Lady," Gandalf smiled. "Lord Aragorn and I did look to thy wounds, but they were already salved by the bracers that thy Elven Prince had given to thee, and it was not Lord Aragorn and I who woke you from the Black Breath. You may save thy thanks for a more deserving champion."
'I would still give them to you, just the same, Gandalf," Éowyn smiled. "I shall thank Legolas privately upon his return."
Gandalf smiled widely and bowed his head. He bid her good day and she returned to her watch, a smile on her lips that would remain as she looked to the road on the horizon.
A rumble began in the heights of Minas Tirith two days later. The noise and cheers and horns started on the sixth level and descended downward swiftly. Bythe time the noise had reached the Gate, it was a roar, a symphony of cheers, applause, cries and sobs that welcomed the Army of the West back to the capital of Gondor.
Éowyn ran to her chamber and removed her robe, throwing a new gown over her head and brushing her hair quickly. Her maids were all about her, smoothing out her dress, adjusting her hair in waves down her back and straightening her jewellery. Her jade and silver bracelet shone on her wrist and she placed the Lórien brooch over her breast.
When she finally rose from her vanity, she turned for the door when it suddenly swung open. Her mouth fell agape and tears began to well in her eyes. Her maids smiled to themselves as they quickly bowed and ran from the room.
"My Lord," Éowyn said quietly, bowing her head. Her pulse raced and she could feel her desire flaring. She swallowed as she looked down at the floor, keeping her head bowed, resisting the urge to tear her clothes off and leap into his arms.
Legolas crossed the room in an instant and picked her up off the ground. She laughed gleefully as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. They held each other close for a long while, each of them closing their eyes and feeling the other pressed against them.
"Bless Eru! You're awake," Legolas whispered.
"You commanded me to come back to you, and I obeyed," she replied, her voice catching as she cried tears of joy against his tunic.
They kissed again, each of them laughing. The War was over and they still lived.
"Is it done?" Éowyn asked.
"The Ring is destroyed. The Dark Lord along with it. Come, there is someone I want you to meet."
"Nay," she stopped him, taking his hand. "You have been riding hard for days. You need to bathe, and change."
Legolas opened his mouth to protest when he saw her mischievous glance.
"I will need someone to assist me in this task," he said in a deep low voice.
"I shall attend to you, my Lord," she replied softly.
"Are you certain? These last days have been hard and difficult. I fear I will need extra and particular attention to meet all of my needs," he teased. "I fear I will be very demanding on whoever chooses to attend to me."
"I am at thy service, my Lord," she replied, meeting his eyes as her arousal flared.
He grinned wickedly at her and made an obvious effort of leering at her body. Éowyn smiled and swallowed at his lustful glare. Without another word, she took his arm and he escorted her back to his own chamber, closing and locking the door behind them as cheers continued to echo through Gondor.
They barely made it to the bath before they were both stripped naked and joined together in a hurried and frantic clash of bodies. The bath had already been made as attendants had prepared the rooms upon the news from the scouts that Aragorn had been victorious and the Army was returning.
They lay back in the warm water together and calmed their breathing after their passionate reunion. She then moved into his lap and kissed him over and over, crying tears of joy.
"You came back. You're here."
"We are pledged and bound to each other, Éowyn. Forever."
"I am yours, Legolas," Éowyn whispered, tears falling from her face. "I wish that I could show you the depth of my love, for mortals can be wretched, fickle and vain, and we say hurtful things and are so quick to think and feel doubt and other such foolishness. You deserve to be loved unconditionally and I aspire to do that for I wish to give you all that I am, but I fear that all that I am is still not sufficient reward for thee."
Legolas kissed her soundly, pulling her close to him before framing her face.
"Smile, White Lady. We are together. We are safe. Your love is more than enough, Éowyn. You are more than enough. It always has been and you always shall be."
She did smile. A joyful and contented smile. She returned his kiss and held him close to her.
They finally rose from the hot bath and dressed. Éowyn somehow returned her hair and dress to perfect condition after their torrid session. She adjusted the jade and silver bracelet about her wrist and gasped slightly as Legolas emerged. He wore a long tunic of silver and white that seemed to change colours in the light. His hair was combed straight and he looked incredibly regal. He leaned over and kissed her and she seemed to lose her composure. She grinned at him, almost beside herself as she took his arm and they left the chamber.
They walked down the hall towards the healing rooms. As they rounded a corner, she saw several figures gathered outside one door. She ran ahead into her brother's embrace.
"Éowyn! You're awake!" Éomer laughed.
"I am, brother," she said happily, hugging him tightly again.
She pulled away from him and linked hands with Legolas as they went into the room. She bowed respectfully to Aragorn and Gimli before looking curiously at the bed, where Merry, Pippin and another Halfling were crowded around a Hobbit sitting propped up on the pillows.
"Frodo," Gandalf called out, getting the Hobbit's attention. "I introduce you to Éomer, son of Eomund, ruler of Rohan, and Éowyn, daughter of Eomund, White Lady of Rohan."
Éomer and Éowyn stepped forward. Gandalf looked at them with a smile.
"King Éomer, Lady Éowyn, this is Frodo, the Ringbearer. Oh, and you haven't met Sam, a member of our Fellowship."
Éowyn's eyes were bright and she bowed her head to the Hobbit, Éomer doing the same. Frodo greeted them.
"My Lady is the slayer of the Witch-King of Angmar," Merry said proudly, and Frodo's eyes widened.
"Thank you, Lady Éowyn," he said softly. "I owed the Witch-King for a past grievance against me, and I am very pleased to hear a valiant champion has exacted revenge for me and all of his other victims."
Frodo rubbed his shoulder ruefully and Éowyn bowed again, her cheeks flushing at the mention of her being a champion by Frodo.
They stepped aside for Frodo to speak to Gimli, and Éowyn rested her head against Legolas' chest. "Let us go," he whispered to her. "If we remain there will be storytelling for hours."
She smiled as they both nodded to the others and left the room with Éomer.
"King of Rohan," Éowyn teased. "What shall be thy first order, my liege?"
"I shall make it an offence punishable by death for anyone to tease me, first of all," Éomer replied. "We must prepare to take uncle back to Edoras."
Éowyn sighed. She had seen Théoden's body each day since she had awoken and tears still threatened to spill days later.
"Aragorn offered to have him lay here among the great Kings of Gondor, but his place is back among his ancestors," Éomer continued.
Éowyn nodded. The three of them had unknowingly walked up to the Tower of Ecthelion, and as they passed the guard from Rohan and Gondor, they fell silent.
Théoden rested under a blanket of gold, his sword and shield at his side. He looked peaceful and at ease, Legolas thought.
"He thought himself a lesser son of great sires," Éomer said quietly.
"He can feel no shame now in their esteemed company," Éowyn replied.
Legolas held her by the waist and she covered his hands with hers. She and Éomer whispered words to their uncle in Rohirric, and they eventually turned and departed.
They quickly learned that leaving Gondor would not happen very soon. With the return of Aragorn to the throne of Gondor and Arnor, there were countless ceremonies to attend and matters to deal with. As Éomer was now King of Rohan, and Gondor's strongest ally, he was required to attend at Aragorn's side, both to represent the Eorlingas, and also to keep Aragorn sane amidst the chaos of his newly developing Court. Éowyn was also needed, having more skill at managing at Court. Legolas wanted to avoid the entire mess if he could. Spending over a year away from Mirkwood had been a blessing. While everyone recognized him as a Prince, there were no duties and obligations for him in the White City, and he revelled in such freedom.
His freedom was quite short lived. While he did spend time with Gimli and the Hobbits, Éowyn dragged him along to as many meetings and ceremonies as she could. His presence was a comfort to her, and she secretly wanted to show him that she was adept at dealing with the affairs of a royal house. They spent a great deal of time with Aragorn, Éomer, Faramir and Gandalf during these days. Aragorn kept Faramir as Steward of Gondor and crowned him Prince of Ithilien, and Gandalf supervised the preparations for the coronation of the King.
Days before the crowning of Aragorn, Éowyn rose from her slumber to find Legolas not at her side in bed. She pulled the sheets off of her naked body and wrapped herself in her robe. Legolas was outside on the balcony and he smiled as she joined him, taking her into his arms.
"Did you sleep well, my love?" she asked as she rested against him,
"You did not give me much time to rest last evening," he smiled.
"And you did not complain about it if I recall correctly."
"I seem to recall that we agreed we would go to sleep after the second time."
"Yes, and I went to sleep," Éowyn's voice was innocent.
"You pushed thy buttocks against me, knowing full well what that does to me," Legolas said knowingly.
Éowyn's smile widened at the memory of Legolas grabbing her hips and pounding into her from behind. "Again, you did not complain."
Legolas kissed her quickly before he turned his head and looked out into the distance, his eyes narrowing as if he sensed something on the wind.
"My Lord? What is it?" she asked.
Legolas looked back at her and smiled. "We have guests, Éowyn. Come, let us bathe and change and go out to greet them."
After they finished bathing, Legolas went back to his own chamber to change. Éowyn stood before the mirror as her maids attended to her. Her brow creased as she looked at herself. Should she wear her hair long or done up? Should she have a gown of white or coloured? Her mind was jumbled and she did not know where to begin. Her maids went about brushing her hair and helping her with her dress, finally deciding on a white gown with intricate green and yellow embroidery. She wore a light tiara as befitted her station as the White Lady of Rohan. She did not feel particularly regal as she prepared to meet their guests.
Legolas entered her chamber after she invited him in. He smiled wide upon seeing her.
"Éowyn," he breathed. "You look incredible."
Éowyn blushed. He offered his arm and she took it timidly. They walked out in silence and down the various levels towards the Gate. Legolas was speaking excitedly and quickly, and it was only when they were about to mount Windfola and Arod that he noticed how quiet she was.
"Éowyn? You haven't said a word since we came down. Are you all right?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, Legolas, of course. I'm fine," she replied absentmindedly.
Legolas smiled as they took their horses into a light trot. "You are no deceiver, my Lady. Tell me, what troubles thee?"
Éowyn sighed. "Damn you," she said mockingly. "Any Man would accept my answer without question."
"I am not a Man," Legolas smiled at her.
She shook her head ruefully. "It's just that when you told me who was here, who we would be meeting, who I would be meeting, it is very overwhelming is all."
Legolas grinned. "Surely my brave Shieldmaiden is not intimidated by a few wood elves?"
She frowned at him. "I would hardly call the Eldar who have come here mere wood elves. The Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, Lord Elrond, we have heard of them in Rohan, such is the reach of their names."
"So you are to meet some famous elves. What of it?"
Éowyn huffed in exasperation. "I fear they will not find me worthy of thee."
"What makes you think their opinion matters?"
Éowyn looked at him wide-eyed. "Legolas! Surely you would listen if Lady Galadriel told you to cast aside thy wretched mortal mistress and find yourself a true elleth worthy of the Prince of Mirkwood?"
"First of all, you will never call yourself that again. Second, Lady Galadriel would never say that. Third and finally, why would I listen to her even if she did? I am not betrothed to her. I am betrothed to you, and very thankful for it."
"But, but I am just a woman!"
"And I am only an Elf. I am not one of the Eorlingas, or part of the line of Kings of Gondor, or a nobleman of Rohan. I am an Elf, Éowyn. Elves are aloof, and cold, and insensitive, and dispassionate. We prefer moments of solitude and meditation, and we are arrogant, holding ourselves above the concerns of the other peoples of this world. I am only an Elf, Éowyn. I am an Elf who is madly, desperately, irrevocably and forever more in love with you. Do you believe that to be enough for thee, White Lady?"
"Of course!" Éowyn said vehemently. "You are none of those horrible things that you say Elves are, and you are more than enough for me!"
"As you are for me," Legolas said simply. "We will speak no more of this."
Éowyn grew silent at his command, but her doubts still lingered.
"They will all love you, Éowyn. You shall see."
They dismounted at a great tent that had been raised on the field. Even the stable hands look majestic and beautiful, Éowyn thought as a young Elf took the reins of Windfola and spoke soothingly to the horse in Sindarin.
She took Legolas' arm and nervously walked through the large entrance. She gasped as she saw small trees and flowers blooming all around them. The foliage had no business growing on the Fields of Cormallen, but they seemed to flourish as they walked through. Elves and Elleth in decadent and beautiful clothes stood here and there, and all eyes seemed to turn upon them as they walked. Legolas smiled and nodded to some as they went. Éowyn felt very self conscious, as though dozens of eyes were upon her. She straightened her posture and walked calmly despite the emotions storming inside of her. Let them stare, she thought as she held Legolas' arm more firmly.
They followed a long procession of Elves who had come to pay tribute or speak to the Lord and Lady of Lórien or the Lord Elrond. The three of them sat on chairs at one end of the tent. They seemed otherworldly to Éowyn. She had found Elladan and Elrohir to be almost like Men. Their gregarious nature reminded her of the Rohirrim. But as they came before Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond, she was overcome with awe.
The three of them rose and greeted Legolas cheerfully in Sindarin. They embraced him and grasped his shoulders. It felt like a reunion among long lost family and Éowyn felt even worse, as if she was intruding upon a sacred moment that she had no business being a part of. She tried to pull away, but Legolas held her hand and kept her firmly next to him. He turned to her and smiled before addressing the others.
"Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond, I give you Lady Éowyn, daughter of Eomund, White Lady of Rohan."
"Mae l'ovannen, Éowyn," Lord Celeborn said with a smile. All three of them touched their hearts and bowed their heads to her in the Elven style. "Le nathlam hi."
Legolas opened his mouth to translate for her, but Éowyn stepped forward and bowed her head in reply. "Guren glassui. Le suilon, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond."
All of them looked at Éowyn in surprise. Legolas turned to them and shook his head. He had never taught her this.
Lady Galadriel stepped forward and spoke to Éowyn in Westron. "You honour us with thy words, Lady Éowyn. Let us speak in the Common tongue as we have come to these lands of Men and you are our guest. Welcome. It is a privilege to meet you."
"My sons have spoken very reverently of you, White Lady," Elrond said. "They have not done you justice, I fear."
Éowyn blushed. "Thank you, Lord Elrond."
"May we present the reason we have come," Elrond continued. "Éowyn, daughter of Eomund, I am pleased to present to you my daughter, Arwen Undomiel, who you may have heard called Evenstar."
A beautiful Elleth stepped forward and bowed to Éowyn. Éowyn returned her gesture. Her mind was racing. Arwen was beautiful and looked strong and brave. She is the match of Lord Aragorn, Éowyn thought.
Arwen embraced Legolas, laughing as he hugged her close. Éowyn looked at them curiously. Arwen then turned to her.
"Lady Éowyn, my wedding is to take place in Minas Tirith following the King's coronation. Legolas will be accompanying us to the White City. I would be honoured if you would stand with us."
Éowyn's eyes went wide. "Yes, of course. Thank you for this kindness."
"It is the least I can do, Lady Éowyn," Arwen replied. "All who are dear to Legolas are dear to us."
To her surprise, other Elves came forward to greet her. Glorfindel, who had prophesied that the Witch-King would be felled by no man, Erestor and other lords of Rivendell, the Marchwarden of Lórien, Haldir, and his brothers, all clad in white or grey with gems in their hair. They appeared a fair folk to Éowyn, and yet such words did not begin to describe them, for they seemed creatures from beyond the realms of this world, and as Éowyn gazed upon her Lord, Legolas appeared to her to be a deity, strong, powerful and all-knowing, and she was in awe of him and his kin, until he smiled upon her and bade her sit with him, and as their voices joined in conversation, she began to feel comfortable and unreserved, as though she had been brought back to old friends.
They all sat and talked. The Elves were eager to hear Éowyn's tale of slaying the Witch-King and she found herself somewhat embarrassed to be the centre of attention. She noticed that Arwen would smile whenever Aragorn's name was mentioned, and she would look over to Lord Elrond proudly as Legolas recounted their walking the Paths of the Dead and their victories at Umbar, the Pelennor and before the Morannon. When she mentioned the bracers that Legolas had found at Isengard and brought to her, Galadriel and Celeborn shared a look.
"You were unconscious, but the Black Breath did not reach thy heart?"
"Nay, Lady Galadriel," Legolas volunteered. "I heard Éowyn's pulse."
"And what did you feel, Éowyn?"
"I…" she was having difficulty expressing herself. "I felt suspended in darkness, not awake and not dreaming. I felt I could not move, could not speak, could not do anything."
"Do you remember waking?" Lord Celeborn asked.
"Aye. I heard Legolas' voice calling me to come back and I woke up in Minas Tirith."
Galadriel and Celeborn looked at each other, and Arwen looked to Elrond. Galadriel looked at Legolas and held his gaze. Éowyn watched and realized they were talking to each other, without their lips moving. They both smiled and looked at her.
"Lady Éowyn," Galadriel said, bowing her head. "We are very pleased that you have come back to us after such an ordeal. It was Glorfindel who said that no man would defeat the Witch-King, and it is fitting that it was you who proved this prophecy true."
"You bring glory and renown to the title of Shieldmaiden of Rohan," Elrond nodded. He turned and waved his hand and a young Elleth came forward towards Éowyn. She bowed and held up a bow to Éowyn. It appeared to be the same as the Galadhrim bow of Legolas, although smaller. Leaves of Lórien were carved into it, and the bow string seemed to glow.
"This is a bow from our land," Galadriel smiled. "A weapon fit for a Shieldmaiden. May it protect you and strike fear into thy enemies."
Éowyn bowed low as she took the gift and touched her heart. "Hannon le. It is beautiful."
"This Age will be an Age of Peace, if the Valar be merciful," Celeborn smiled. "But we would see you well armed, just the same."
Éowyn nodded. "Lord Celeborn, I stand here on the Fields of Cormallen with my Lord Legolas, who has lifted me from Shadow. I remain a proud Shieldmaiden, but I find I have less desire to vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I feel stirring a love for all things that grow and are not barren, and a developing interest in being a healer, and not just a warrior."
Éowyn looked at Legolas, who smiled at her.
"Well said, White Lady," Elrond smiled. "She who holds true strength and power is she who knows when she must take up arms, and when she must do everything to not do so."
Arwen stepped forward and took Éowyn's hand. "Come," she smiled. "Legolas has a present for you that he wishes I give to thee."
"It's all right, Éowyn," Legolas smiled as she hesitated, then followed Arwen.
"Thy bond is strong," Elrond commented after the ladies had left.
"I cannot explain it, my Lord," Legolas replied.
"It needs no explanation," Galadriel stated. "Be thankful for it, Legolas. For such a bond is so rare as to be thought impossible."
Éowyn looked at herself in the mirror. The Elven gown was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen and she could not believe it fit her so perfectly.
"Legolas did this?"
Arwen smiled. "He sent word with my brothers. He actually wrote down his instructions. A wise decision as they likely would have changed whatever he said to cause mischief."
"It is beautiful."
"It will look lovely when you accompany me to Minas Tirith," Arwen said lightly.
"Where did you learn Sindarin?" Arwen asked with a smile.
"I only know a few phrases. Your Lord taught me some words of welcome," Éowyn replied, smiling as Arwen's grin grew wide. "I thought it may prove useful when meeting Legolas' kin."
"May I ask you, my Lady, why was everyone so interested in my story? Of when I woke?" Éowyn asked.
Arwen nodded knowingly. "They were surprised when you said you heard Legolas' voice while you were unconscious. It is unheard of for a woman and an Elf to communicate this way."
Éowyn bowed her head. "I have never felt this way about anyone before, Lady Arwen."
"Legolas is very special," Arwen agreed. "What you share is a gift. Be glad for it and cherish it always."
"I do not know," Éowyn looked away. "I had never seen many Elves before in my time, and now that I am here among all of you, I feel…very ordinary."
"Oh Éowyn," Arwen smiled at her.
"Legolas is…older, more experienced. Thy brothers, they said that legions of Elleth desire him. He is a Prince after all. I, I do not know what interest he would have in a mortal woman when he is surrounded by such beautiful females, females that will always be beautiful, will never fade. I can't help but be afraid that his interest is merely…" her voice went quiet.
"You are afraid that Legolas is simply curious, and that his curiosity will wane?" Arwen asked.
Éowyn nodded, embarrassed to look at Arwen.
Arwen shook her head. "Humans are a very interesting people. You all seem to…lack faith."
Éowyn looked up at her finally.
"I have known Legolas his entire life, Lady Éowyn. He is not merely curious, and his interest is not casual. Elves do not give their hearts casually. If his time with you was a mere tryst, or a short dalliance, he would have left you long ago. He would have sated his desire and moved on. Legolas would not have stayed by thy side at Minas Tirith, or called you to come back from darkness. I believe you know, in thy heart, that his love for you is very real and shall not fade."
"I am ashamed to doubt him, for I know he does not deserve it," Éowyn sighed. "But I fear that when he is back among his own kin…"
Arwen laughed. "That what? He will cast you off and find a more worthy Elleth? Oh, White Lady, if only you could understand just how silly you sound."
"Éowyn," Arwen said patiently. "Do you know where Legolas travelled before reaching Edoras? He spent weeks at Lothlórien with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. The Elleth of Lórien are very beautiful and enchanting, and many a crusader have left their hearts with them. Legolas did not. My brothers tell me that he took no pleasure during his time there, or at any time before arriving at Edoras. Yes, many Elleth do desire him. But I have never seen him return anyone's affections the way he does for thee. So you see, Éowyn, he has had every opportunity to pursue romance and pleasure as he so chose. He chose you. You may think of us as being beautiful, and beyond the comprehension of mortals, but rest assured that Legolas only has eyes for thee, and no Elleth can sway him otherwise."
They shared a look, a smile and an understanding.
"Lady Arwen," Éowyn said nervously, trying to change the subject. "Where is King Thranduil? I thought he would come to see Legolas as well."
Arwen smiled wanly and looked at Éowyn carefully. "The King remains in Mirkwood," Arwen replied. "I believe he expects Legolas to return there once Estel is crowned. As our delegation was coming here, he did not feel the need to accompany us."
Éowyn nodded. She knew very little about Legolas' father, but as he did not seem to want to speak of him very often, she expected there was perhaps a touchy subject where the King was concerned.
As if reading her thoughts, Arwen continued. "King Thranduil is very…set in his ways," Arwen volunteered. "He did not want Legolas to accompany the Fellowship, and he did not want to involve himself in the War with the Dark Lord. It was only when the host of Dol Goldur attacked that he moved to defend his realm. But do not concern yourself, Éowyn. King Thranduil has no grudge with Men."
Éowyn stayed quiet. Legolas' father may have no grudge with Men, but what about a grudge with a mortal woman who has seduced his son?
"Now, let me show you the rest of the clothes that Lord Legolas ordered us to make for you."
"The rest?" Éowyn's eyes went wide.
Arwen smiled as two Elleth came forward carrying numerous fabrics of various colours.
"You need only ask, Legolas," Galadriel smiled.
"Are my thoughts so obvious?" Legolas said softly as they walked together.
"You wonder about your union to the Lady Éowyn and what will come of it? We do not see into a future that still needs to take shape."
"Do you see pain? Do you see heartbreak?"
Galadriel smiled. "We see the happiness and joy that you share now. Would you forsake that if pain is in thy future?"
"Nay," Legolas admitted.
"Then you have no need for further questions."
"Thy message to me though," Legolas continued.
"Have you heard the cry of the gulls?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"And I do not feel any different," Legolas admitted.
Galadriel smiled once more.
"I did not say you would feel differently, Legolas. I said 'thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more'. It appears I was correct, although perhaps the timing in my prophecy was not entirely accurate."
"My Lady?" Legolas looked at her questioningly.
"Where does thy heart rest now, Legolas?"
"With Éowyn," Legolas replied immediately. He then blinked as realization dawned upon him.
"Indeed," Galadriel smiled. They continued walking in silence.
