The Wedding
"Every morning choose to love something about him.
Every day remember who I chose to be.
Every evening choose to say the things that haven't yet been said.
Then go to bed and choose to love the man I'm with."
Another song in our honour, as we dine at the table, the pale, cream silk wrapped around our wrists in a sacred knot. It is there to remind us, to make life difficult. The knot represents the choices we have made, the duties that come with married life, as well as the soft, sweet pleasure. It reminds me of the growing knot in my stomach of the marital bed. I have been with no one, been touched by no man. I know Faramir has been with women and he cared not for it, what if he finds he cares not for me? I forget this every time I look at him, his golden brown head raised back as he laughs and smiles at something my brother or Aragorn says. They sit closest to us. Every time his eyes reach mine and every time he whispers that he loves me, and then tells me he has said it so many times he is fearful of it becoming meaningless, I tell him back that it could never be meaningless, my love for him still burns bright in my heart.
My wedding dress is beautiful, pale green silk, with white and silver. I wear the diadem Arwen gave me, interweaved with jasmine leaves and flowers. There was an audible gasp as I walked up the Hall, with my brother, towards Faramir. He was dressed in the colours of Gondor, black with silver lining. I heard some muttering that perhaps a man should not wear dull colours at his wedding, but when he turned to see me and his mouth became an 'O' of happiness and admiration, I didn't care whether he wore brown sacking or cloth of gold. He looked handsome and wise and I loved him so entirely I am surprised my soul didn't go galloping off towards the heavens. But then I saw Gimli turn his back to me, his shoulders heaving and Legolas, grinning, pass him a handkerchief. I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing.
Our Hand fasting ribbon is taken to our room and I join in the clapping and singing of songs. The mummers' songs are respectful and grand, I can see Merry and Pippen talking animatedly, I know they are growing bored. They soon shush the singers and liven up our Hall with their raucous pub songs, some of which are a little rude. But I do not mind a bit, as I dance with Merry down the hall under clapping hands. It is only as the evening wears on and Arwen and Galadriel take me from the hall, with my ladies in waiting, that I am reminded of that knot. Faramir stays in the hall, talking with the men. While I normally defy tradition, I do not wish to defy this undress me and Arwen gives me her gift of a beautiful silk nightgown, patterns of golden ivy hung around the bottom and the front laced with satin ribbons. Galadriel removes my diadem, as my ladies-in-waiting prepare my bed, she brushes through my hair till it hangs down my back in golden waves.
"Are you well, Eowyn?" she asks, kindly.
I nod, "A little nervous, as all women are on this night." I reply.
Arwen smiles, "He loves you Eowyn, do not fear in asking him to be gentle, he will listen to you." I press my lips together, hiding my nerves. She sees it in my eyes, kisses my cheek and then guides me over to the bed. My ladies are leaving honeyed cakes and spiced ale on the table at the end of the room. The bed spread is dark blue. Arwen pulls aside the cover and I climb in, feeling strangely girl-like, as though my mother is putting me to bed.
"Goodnight, brave lady." Galadriel kisses my cheek and Arwen does the same, they shoo my giggling handmaidens from my room and close the door.
I am still sitting in my bed, the twisting of the knot growing worse and worse. I cannot understand why I feel like a child, but I am reminded strongly of how I used to fear the healer's visit when I was young. I should not though, surely? I am a grown woman in her wedding bed. I lie back on the pillows, looking up at the upholstered four poster bed.
I softly mutter a soldier's word I have often heard before, "Shit." I say it several times, feeling distinctly better every time. I smile at my small rebellion against my maiden title. Well I won't be a maiden for much longer, I think. However much I fear what is to come the bed is soft and warm, I stretch and curl my toes, feeling the luxury of the sheets. 'Well not much will be accomplished by staying awake.' I think, I let the sweet mead and fine wine I drank persuade my body to sleep.
I feel his warmth enter the bed and he wrap his arms tightly, possessively around my waist. I sleepily roll over to face him. He is wearing his night shirt, the soft hairs of his chest just visible, the smile on his face utterly delicious. A candle still flickers on the table, making the room glow warmly.
"Sorry, my love. I did not mean to wake you, but to have you in bed with me and not to hold you was an unbearable thought."
I nestle closer to him, breathing in the scent of him, a soft muskiness.
"If you are tired we can wait till morning, I am happy to just sleep with you." he whispers, kissing my forehead.
"No, there will not be much time in the morning; the servants are far too excited, we'd be disturbed every time."
"Very well." he smiles, kissing me, wrapping his hands round my face, "Dear Lord, Eowyn, you are too beautiful to resist."
"Then don't resist me." I murmur.
I have no idea why I said that, I just knew I was ready for this moment. Faramir let out a moan of desire and pushed his hands into my hair, kissing me all over my face. Then when kissing my lips, he let his tongue slip into my mouth. I was surprised at first, but then grew to like the sensation, the taste of him. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, my breasts pressed against his chest and my whole body burning with a longing to be taken, to be touched. He broke away looking down towards my chest, towards the ribbons, I got the distinct desire he would have liked nothing better than to rip away the nightgown and to kiss my breasts. I giggle softly.
"We cannot ruin the nightgown; it was a gift from Arwen."
He gives a frustrated sigh, but I kneel up in the bed and loosen the ribbons. I see him eagerly rise towards me, but I push him back on the bed and kiss him, pushing his hands down so he cannot touch me.
"You are…" desire nearly makes him choke, "Both beautiful and horrible, I told you, you were a tease." I laugh and then pull the nightgown over my head. He lets out a sigh of longing and bliss. Then seizes me to him, pulling me down so I lie on the bed. I watch his dark, golden head bowed over my breast, slowly kissing my neck and shoulders, and then letting his hand wrap round my creamy, pale breasts. I feel my spirit hum with excitement, my whole body shivering again. He kisses closer to them, softly rubbing my breasts, till his warm hands stroke over my nipples. When they harden under his hands he lets out another groan and gently sucks on one, making me curl my toes again and let out little panting sighs, this wonderful bliss and agony pouring over my body.
He kisses and bites my belly, still kneading my breasts, my fingers seemingly wandering down towards my groin as though my body knows before my mind that is what I long for. To become one body with him. I feel my wetness growing there and I close my eyes in ecstasy as I stroke myself. Faramir comes up to my mouth again and kisses me, he feels my fingers near my groin and as though he cannot bear this anymore he rips off his nightshirt. I admire his body, the panes of his chest, the scar where the arrow hit him. It reminds me of tending to him when he was injured and how I grew to love this man. I kiss his chest and the scar; I can feel his hardened erection against my thigh and hear his quick breath, leaving his body.
He lies me back down again and glides his fingers down my stomach towards my legs, I open them for him and he tenderly strokes my wet flesh. I feel like a fool, sighing with pleasure and making little 'oh' noises of delight, but he kisses me, tells me how much he's loved me, how he's waited for this moment and how he loves me all over again. He presses firmly on my little nub of flesh and makes me pant with joy; I am half frightened, half desperate for him to be between my legs. This man is the right one to claim me.
"I will be as gentle as I can be, love," he whispers.
I nod, knowing his male desires may make it difficult for him to stop. He opens my legs a little wider, still rubbing my flesh and then he positions himself close to my entrance. For a while he carefully pushes himself against it and then pushes inside me. My eyes open with shock and I let out a muffled cry.
"Sorry, my love, I am sorry. I'll try to be gentle."
I know I must grow used to this, but it still brings a few tears to my eyes, I blink them away. We are together at last and this makes us one person, one entity of love and devotion. I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him. His hips push himself into me, going a little further each time, till I am used to where he was before.
"I love you so much Eowyn." He kisses my shoulder, then my breasts, that same feeling of desire I had comes back.
"I love you too, Faramir."
I can feel his pace quickening, his breathing hardened, as his hips push against my groin and his kisses become feverish on my skin. I even faintly begin to enjoy the feel of him inside me, pushing against me.
"Mmm, this isn't so bad." I whisper and he laughs.
"It will get better in time."
"I hold that as a promise." I reply.
He gives a groaning sigh and then I feel a rush inside me, he's made me his, he's planted his seed. He lies against my shoulder for a while, then gently gets off me and brings me to him, holding me tightly to him, protecting me.
"Are you alright, my love?"
Despite the slight soreness between my legs and the ache I feel, I feel a great satisfaction and completeness.
"Yes, I am well." I smile.
"Good," he rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes, then opens them, "You are my wife now." He sounds so sweet, so delighted.
"Indeed I am, husband. I am your true wife now." He gives me a sweet, strong kiss.
"I could get used to this," Faramir smiles dreamily. I kiss him along his jaw, down his neck to his chest.
"I think I could do the same, my lord."
He opens his eyes again, "Faramir will do." I put my head against his chest and he runs his hands through my hair.
"We will go to Ithilien, you can grow a garden there." he says softly, "There'll be trees for shade and sweet smelling herbs and flowers, for your healing skills."
"And a son," I smile, "with hair like yours and eyes like mine."
He laughs; I think he thinks I am just jesting after we made love. But I know in my heart, these things will happen and I will be a happy married woman, with a garden and not only my son, many children.
"I want lots of children." I say.
"How many?"
"Three, preferably two sons and one daughter."
"And what will our sons and daughter be called?"
"Elboron, Boromir and Eostre." he chuckles on hearing the names I have already decided upon for our unborn children. "Do you like them?" I whisper.
"Yes, and I am sure my brother would have been honoured by your choice, as would Eostre. But I must confess my love, I was hoping for at least five children."
"Oh three are the minimum anyway." I smile, he brings me closer to him and kisses me.
"Oh Ewoyn, I am blessed."
As am I, I think. I thank heaven for it every day, when Iroeth made me attend to the Steward of Gondor. I drift to sleep in his warm arms.
The End
So this is the re-edited, re-uploaded version of this story. I decided to do this as I am currently writing the sequel and the timeline in that one is more in keeping with the original story, so I edit some of these bits to help them make more sense. Hope you enjoyed and I will be posting up on here and my other fanfic (Hidden Letters) when the sequel (A Promise Not Forgotten - Working Title) is up. Thanks, Hannah xxx