Notes: This is primarily Éowyn's chapter. Legolas only makes a tiny appearance at the end. Sorry, guys. This chapter is also pretty short, but I needed to introduce the character of Faramir. I have also made a fairly big decision.
This story will not be concluded when Return of the King concludes. It will go on until Legolas departs for the Grey Havens. If you haven't figured it out already, that means there is definitely more L/É to come, regardless of whether Éowyn marries Faramir or not. I still haven't decided that. So keep that in mind before you decided to start flaming me about Éowyn and her scene with Faramir. ^_^
Chapter 13
Faramir
Éowyn awoke early, though she knew what she would find when she opened her eyes. The place beside her was empty, yet still radiated with the heat of her lover. Since Legolas had voiced his plight the evening before, the Shield Maiden had been secretly planning. She had devised a way to join her love on the battlefield.
Rising quickly, Éowyn straightened her tunic and smoothed her wayward hair. She knew that her impression would either help or hurt her cause. She reached under her bed and found the sword and dagger that had been removed from her person. After mentally checking her inventory of supplies, Éowyn took a deep breath and walked out of the Healing room.
She walked briskly down the corridors, ignoring the dull ache in her side. Éowyn of Rohan would not admit defeat, not this time. She had beaten one foe, and would gladly take on more. A simple ache meant nothing to a battle-hardened warrior. It was merely an inconvenience, not a hindrance.
Éowyn finally came upon a door at the end of the longest corridor. It was the housing of the Warden, who could grant her leave. If he did as she requested, Éowyn would find a horse and ride to join Legolas and Aragorn at the Black Gate. If he did not, she would go anyways.
The door opened easily, and Éowyn stepped inside. A man, presumably the Warden, was sitting at a desk inside, pouring over some papers. Éowyn began to feel a bit uncomfortable as she cleared her throat, hoping to get the man's attention before actually speaking to him. Thankfully, the man looked up and gazed at her as if she was a sight he was not used to seeing.
"Are you lost, miss? May I help you?"
Éowyn took a deep breath and began to speak. "I am Éowyn, sister of the newly crowned King of Rohan. I am requesting leave to join the men of Gondor and Rohan at the Black Gate of Mordor. If you grant me leave, I shall need a horse to ride to meet with the company." After she had said her peace, Éowyn raised her chin defiantly, daring the man to disagree with her.
The Warden simply gazed at her appraisingly. "I cannot grant you the leave you request, My Lady. You were dangerously close to death, and may still be hurt."
Anger swelled up inside of Éowyn. "I am perfectly capable of judging my own health and fitness! I can march on the Black Gate with the rest of the riders! You need not fear for my safety."
He frowned at her, but seemed to recognize that she would not give in easily. "I will take you to Lord Faramir, the Steward of Gondor. He can grant you the leave you request, not I."
Éowyn sighed. "Where is this Faramir?"
"I shall take you to him."
--
Éowyn ran into the estate of the Steward, leaving the Warden far behind her. She did not bother knocking on the door, she merely ran in. As she skidded to a stop, Éowyn paused for a moment as she regained her breath and caught her first glance of the Steward of Gondor.
He had shoulder-length dusty brown hair and an extremely honest stare. He looked upon her with interest, and with an unbridled fascination. If Éowyn had not known Legolas, she would have considered him quite handsome. But since she had become to love the Elf, no one else could compare to him.
"I have come to see the Steward. Are you the one that I have sought?"
"Aye. I am here to help you in any way possible, my lady."
Eowyn laughed at his gallant behavior. "Obviously you have never heard of me. I am Éowyn of Rohan, sister of the new King. I am the destroyer of the Witch King of Angmar, and a great warrior among my people. I come to beg leave from you. I wish to join the men who now march on the Black Gate, for I can help them win this war."
Faramir stared at her levelly for some time. Éowyn glared at him with all her strength, for he was wasting her time. Finally, he spoke. "So it is true. The Shield Maiden of Rohan is as beautiful as she is modest."
Éowyn could have screamed in outrage. She clenched and unclenched her fists until she caught the sparkle of laughter in his eyes. "You are a very brave man," she said then, "to play with fire." Faramir merely gazed passively back at her. "Please sir," she said; changing her direction, "I must go join those men!"
He rose from his seat and crossed over to where she was standing. There was a grave tenderness in his eyes, and the look of a true and faithful warrior. Éowyn stared at him for many moments, puzzled by what she saw in him. Though tender, she who had grown among the men of war recognized that he was one who many could not destroy in battle. There was something about him that appealed to her.
"I cannot grant you what you wish, Lady Éowyn, though I wish with all my heart that I could." Éowyn felt a sense of failure, and ducked her head to hide her tears from him. Faramir reached out a battle-scarred hand, and lifted her chin back up tenderly. "I would have gone with the men too, if I had had my way. But injuries have hindered me as well."
Éowyn jerked her chin out of his hand, angry and upset. "You could not possibly understand why I wish to be there. My fate, and my heart, is tied to that battle. I must go."
Faramir sighed, and gestured out towards the plains outside of his window. "I would give anything to be out there as well, Éowyn, for I am a warrior at heart and a man of pride in my soul. It pains me to know that others are dying while I am sitting here, comfortable. I understand your pain."
"You could never understand," Éowyn murmured, breathing heavily. Faramir reached out and cupped her chin once more.
"I could understand, My Lady, if you gave me the chance."
There was something about the fire in his stare that made her nervous. She longed for the comforting arms of Legolas once again. She longed for anything familiar and homely. "I will abide by your orders to stay here, Lord Faramir. I have but one grievance."
Faramir pulled away from her. "What is that, Éowyn?"
"My window looks away from the East. I wish to be lodged where I can gaze out at Mordor, where the fate of our kind lies. I do not wish to be kept in the dark."
He laughed, and clapped his hands together. "You are a brave woman, Lady of Rohan. I shall grant your request, for it is an admirable one. You shall have a window that looks upon the East." Faramir gestured to the door. "Will that be all?"
Éowyn gazed at him one more time, puzzled by his actions. "Yes. That will be all."
--
Later that evening, Éowyn stood in her new room. It was slightly smaller than her previous one, but it had a window that looked towards the fated East. She spent many hours standing there, staring out at the land that held her fate in its grasp.
"Legolas," she said aloud, "Come back to me safely. I need you here, by my side."
She turned away from the window, unable to gaze any longer. Éowyn turned towards her bed, where her sword lay unused in its sheath. She picked up the sword and began to swing it again.
The movements were slow and deliberate. She could not move to quickly, for fear of awakening her injury and proving that she was as weak as they all thought. Éowyn went through the parries and attacks that had saved her life, but felt no real joy. All within her was empty, and she felt as though a part of her soul had been torn away.
Eventually, the routine tired her still-weary muscles, and Éowyn laid down in the comfort of her small bed. She pulled the blankets up over her slim body, and sighed in anguish. The thoughts of Legolas only brought her pain.
Determined to not be weak, Éowyn tried to think of other things. Her thoughts fell on Faramir, the Steward of Gondor. He was an interesting man, and fascinated her in some strange way. There was something dangerous about him, but something gentle and warming as well. She could not quite understand his ways. The thought was both appealing and worrisome.
Her thoughts fell back on Legolas, and she sighed wistfully. When he came back to her, nothing would matter anymore. She would be happy again.
--
To the East of Éowyn's room, Legolas Greenleaf fought as he never had before. He fought for the freedom to love and be loved by the woman who was sleeping then, dreaming about him and the man who had denied her the right to come to him.