Éowyn pressed tow fingers to her temple. In her attempt to stifle the ache she accidentally overlooked the precariously balanced wine chalice, her elbow knocking it over. Unfortunately the ruby liquid spilled onto one of the weaving maidens Éowyn had recently befriended. "Nimwen, apologies, my friend," the White Lady said as Nimwen's fingers stilled in their work just as the scarlet dampened her cobalt skirts.
"Ah," Nimwen breathed out. "Worry not, my Lady. 'Tis no great loss." Standing to her full height, the maiden brought the chalice up with her in her ascent. Soft-spoken and delicate looking, Nimwen, daughter of Voronwë, was one of the few noble daughter of Gondor who had settled in Ithilien after the war ended. It was quite by chance that she had encountered the human wife of the Elven Prince. However upon finding that they shared a common view of many affairs, Éowyn had taken the young woman under her wing. Nimwen in return kept her company and had assumed the place of confidante.
"My friend, allow me to send for another gown, at the very least," Éowyn insisted. She motioned for Nimwen to take a seat once more. "Minuialwen, be so kind, would do?" she addressed one of the other ladies-in-waiting. Such a grand thing it was to be mistress of one's home, Éowyn contemplated with a discreet smile. Sliding back into her own chair the blonde woman regarded Nimwen with undisguised warmth. "When shall you ever learn that I take care of my own?" she light-heartedly chided.
Blushing at the kindness, Nimwen dipped her head. "Nary a doubt did I have, my Lady, that you would offer care to all those you beheld in affection." Brown eyes sparkled with mirth; an understanding between the women. Returning her attention to the unfinished piece on the table, Nimwen set about it once again. Content to work in silence for the time being, the daughter of Voronwë was startled by the arrival of the colony's leader. Minuialwen abrupt rising brought her gaze to the elf that entered. Curtsies exchanged, Nimwen demurely cast her stare upon the ground while Legolas pulled his beloved away.
"Adar has sent word that he is to come," Legolas disclosed to his spouse, one hand easily falling along the curve of her back as habit dictated. "I have just received his message."
Allowing herself a moment, Éowyn closed her eyes briefly. "I see," she uttered, her own hand venturing upon her husband's shoulder. One strong pulsation almost made her wince. What was it about that headache that would not leave her be? "It seems I have preparations to make the. Very well, my Lord."
"You are tired," Legolas observed, gently brushing back a stray lock of hair. Their had been a hard work; countless hours spend in negotiation and countless more had been dedicated to solving various problems that arose. One should never underestimate the capacity of others to get into all sorts of troublesome situations. Still, such was the duty that came with being leaders. Legolas did understood, yet it made it no easier, seeing his beloved so weary. He bent to place a kiss atop the crown of her head.
Sighing, Éowyn relaxed into his touch. Exhaustion was something she could endure as long as she knew she'd always be able to fall back on him. "It'll pass," the White Lady said with a smile. "Now, be off, for I must get on with my planning." Separating from his, Éowyn released his shoulder slowly and turned towards her aides. Behind her, she could hear the footfalls of her lover and the creek of the door. "I expect you shall give your very best in this endeavour." The slight warning in her tone made Nimwen curious of the visitors that would come. "I put my faith in you. Do not disappoint me, my dear friends."
A/N: On the names used: Nimwen is the equivalent of Bianca which means white. Minuialwen is for Zora - dawn.
Just as I promised, I have introduced the love interest of Faramir. This couple may or may not become the focus of a drabble collection all of their own. That depends of what you, my reviewers, say. Let me know what you wish for and I'll do my best to satisfy.