Thank you, dear reviewers. I hope you all find this chapter enlightening and entertaining.

(Tolkien disclaimer)

Chapter 17 - Announcing

E

While everyone returns to the Golden Hall to prepare for the feast, I slip quietly away to my rooms. The dress I'm looking for is already laid out. I sit beside it on my bed, dropping my face into my hands.

Come on, now is the time for rejoicing.

Then why do I feel so sorrowful?

You feel sorry for yourself.

Yes. I miss him.

He lived a long life and died a hero!

I wish I had longer with-

An intruder interrupts my thoughts! The door behind me creaks open and I quickly stand to face him. Faramir.

'Hello, Eowyn. How are you?'

'Fine.' I don't even convince myself.

'Would you like to talk?'

I sigh.

'No.' The truth.

'Sit?'

I look back to the bed and rest upon it again. He doesn't move, so I motion for him to join me. He complies, taking a look around the room.

I stare at the floor, unsure of what to do. Faramir simply waits.

Eventually I look at his face. He meets my gaze and rests his hand atop mine on my lap.

'He is gone?' I need him to confirm.

Faramir nods.

I drop my head into his chest. His free arm cradles my head, telling me to stay as long as I like. I finally succumb to the tears.

After several minutes, I raise my head slightly. He inclines his head to look into my swollen eyes. Pushes a hair from my face.

I straighten up fully, ready to face the world again.

'Thank you for being here.' My voice whispers from lack of use.

'Always.' He touches my nose with his finger. I shake my head slightly, almost smiling.

Without thinking, I lean in to kiss him. He does not hesitate, caressing my face in his warm hands.

When we finally pull apart, the joy has returned to my heart. I stand and pull him up by his hands.

'Back to the feast?' He makes to leave.

'Not yet! Do you think I will wear this to celebrate?' I gesture to my garb.

'I suppose not?' He seems confused.

'Men. Come, help me dress.'

His eyebrow raises, but a smirk spreads across his mouth.

'As you wish, my lady.'

'Oh relax, Lothiriel, it is just an over-dress!' I whisper through my teeth at her, not wanting to draw the attention of the servants. Loth had come looking for me and saw Faramir leaving my room.

'Still, I cannot believe he agreed.'

'Perhaps I am turning him away from his stuffy Gondorian ways.'

Loth clicks her tongue at me, clearly still a tad flummoxed.

'You will understand soon enough.'

'On the contrary, I think now that I ought not trust your brother- this Man of Rohan.'

'Perhaps you are too proper. Or too young.' My tone is icy after her jab.

'Eowyn!' Her voice rises above a whisper.

'Hush now, Loth. Let us return to the feast.'

'Well I am telling father that I helped you dress!'

I only smirk at her as we leave the room. I care not what that Prince of Dol Amroth thinks. We are in my land now.

The minstrels have already begun the tales of the Kings of Old. As I enter the Hall, the head servant brings me a filled cup. At the listing of Eorl the Young, I bring the cup to Eomer, careful not to spill it on my shimmering white and gold gown. He takes the cup from me, winks, and then stands as tall as any of the kings now being listed. As the loremaster counts Thengel's son Theoden, Eomer drains the cup.

'Hail the victorious dead!'

The crowd roars in praise of the latest king.

'Fill the cups of all, our people thirst for a new Lord!' I cannot help the giddy feeling that leaped into my heart at the sound of our kin.

The servants gladly run around to give every person a share of the Victory Ale.

I pick Faramir out of the crowd and beam at him. He raises his cup in response, hiding his enormous grin.

When the last cup had been filled, Gandalf bowed low before Eomer, at the same time raising his cup with both hands.

'Hail, Eomer, King of the Mark!'

Everyone responded in unison.

'Hail, Eomer, King of the Mark!'

After the food had been eaten and most of the ale drunk, Eomer stood from our table and walked back to the front of the Hall.

I lean over to Faramir beside me. 'I guess that he will give a parting speech.' He nods.

'Now this is the funeral feast of Theoden the King; but I will speak ere we go of tidings of joy, for he would not grudge that I should do so, since he was ever a father to Eowyn my sister.'

My eyes widen in surprise. Faramir looks at me curiously. What in the Mark is happening?

'Hear then all my guests, fair folk of many realms, such as have never before been gathered in this Hall!'

Yes, dear brother, there are so many people here. He isn't even looking at me!

'Faramir, Steward of Gondor, and Prince of Ithilien,' Now Faramir looks shocked, 'asks that Eowyn, Lady of Rohan, should be his wife, and she grants it fulwilling. Therefore they shall be trothplighted before you all.'

I gasp, but joyfully. I cannot believe Eomer did this, but I understand exactly why he did. Uncle would be so very happy for me. For us. I turn to look at Faramir's knowing smile. But lo! It is no smile I see, but a look of shock and almost horror. I throw my head back in laughter, pulling him up to the front by Eomer.

We stand together, hand in hand, before my people and our friends. The cups raise again to our engagement and are drained merrily. Faramir is now beaming and relaxing into the spotlight as Eomer continues.

'Thus is the friendship of the Mark and Gondor bound with a new bond, and the more do I rejoice.'

The King Elessar stands proudly from his table.

'Gondor is well pleased, having now received She who is Fairest and Bravest in the realm!'

I look into his eyes, remembering our last conversation.

'Wish me joy, my liege-lord and healer!'

'I have wished thee joy ever since first I saw thee.'

As we return to our table, Lothiriel hugs us both.

'Now we can begin the wedding planning!'

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Surprise for them! Not so much for us ;)

-Anarwyn