Shieldmaiden and Swan

by Anarwyn

Do you want more than a few pages of love story between Eowyn and Faramir? Do you want that to include a friendship with Lothiriel and subsequently a love story between Lothiriel and Eomer? Then you have come to the right place! No slash, no funny business, just good-old story telling.

16. Chapter 16 - Grieving

Luinwen-2013 - Long-needed indeed. I'm glad you can see the "book scenes" and thank you for your sweet reviews!

Lady Istalri - Thank you so much for your kind words, they are very encouraging! Yes, I always thought Aragorn and Eowyn should have a lovely friendship...wait a bit longer and you may see more of them ;)

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thank you for your many reviews. The dream sequence is a little different, but I wanted it to be sort of disorienting (since that's how my dreams are). I personally dislike when characters have dreams that make perfect sense.

Thank you to all of my reviewers and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

(Same disclaimer as before)

Chapter 16 - Grieving

L

After fifteen days of travel, I am relieved to finally be at our destination. The road has been beautiful, but I long for a nice, indoor place to rest my head tonight. As the Golden Hall comes into sight, Father rides up beside me.

'Not home, but it will do.' He winks at me.

'I think her to be beautiful. If only there was a sea nearby, eh?'

His smile broadens.

'Soon enough, Little Swan, we will return to your brothers. Are you no longer pleased with your decision to come?'

I sigh. 'I am, Father. I know I am here for the Lady Eowyn, not myself.' A small voice in the back of my head disagrees.

'I do hope you will take some time to enjoy yourself. Perhaps not today, however.'

'No, today would not be appropriate.'

'Although, forget not that we are in a foreign land. Funeral rites may differ here.'

'Indeed I believe they will.'

In three days the preparations had been made. The Great King is now to be laid to rest. I stand next to Eowyn, who stands next to her brother by the mouth of the tomb. A chorus of women sing a mournful song in Rohirric. I cannot understand the words, though some sound familiar. The haunting melody moves my heart nonetheless and I find myself teary-eyed. I quickly dab the wetness away, not wanting to look weak in Eowyn's eyes. I shift my gaze upwards to her face. She is singing along softly. Her face is smooth and grave. I am impressed by her composure. I hope to be so brave at the funeral of my father. The song ends as the men close the stone tomb. I almost begin to walk back to the Hall, but I realize that only the blonde men are moving about. Is there to be more?

The women and the Company from Gondor remain close to the tomb. After a few minutes, I hear dozens of hooves galloping back in our direction. I want to move out of their way, but Eowyn stands perfectly still. I take a deep breath and resolve to plant my feet. Her face is still subdued, but now she looks expectantly down the hill. I turn in the same direction, and just as I do, Eomer appears at the bottom, followed by many of his men. The Riders all sit upon white horses, carrying the King's banner, and as they begin to circle the barrow they start another slow song. I again do not understand the words, but I think this one to be very different from what the women sang. As the men continue to ride and sing, the people of the Mark smile and I see a spark in their eyes. Obviously the song brings them joy and pride in their king. Eowyn, too, is smiling softly. She doesn't watch the riders, nor does she look toward Faramir standing across the way, but always her eyes are fixed on the King's mound. I do not mean to stare, but her countenance mesmerizes me and I feel that to look away would be rude. As the song comes to a conclusion, a tear rolls down her cheek.

Merry, the hobbit I had grown most fond of, walks closer to the mound, touching the highest point he can reach. His face is red from weeping, but he stands tall.

'Theoden King, Theoden King! Farewell! As a father you were to me, for a little while. Farewell!'

The small, but strong, voice wakes me from my stupor. I blink several times, willing the tears to leave my eyes. I must be strong for Eowyn. I take her hand and squeeze. She looks down at me and smiles again.

'Thank you, my friend. Come, let the feast begin. Theoden King will now find his rest among the mighty company of our forefathers.'

I can only smile and nod. She touches the grave, then takes me down the road and back into Edoras.

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Finally out of Minas Tirith and into Edoras! Alas, only for a few chapters.

-Anarwyn