When Éowyn left Faramir's after the council meeting, she felt exhilarated. She and Éomer had spent much of the morning talking about Faramir's letter, before the Hobbits and Imrahil arrived. They spoke of what Rohan could offer, and they spoke as equals. It had been Éowyn who'd remembered Gimli's poetry about the Glittering Caves. It seemed fitting, Dwarven workmanship throughout Rohan (and Gondor), for a long-forgotten system in the Westfold mountains made beautiful, and a guaranteed alliance for the foreseeable future. Éomer had smiled with delight as they worked out the terms, and both were in awe of Faramir's letter. He really was an excellent Steward.
Éowyn made another decision after watching Faramir and that ring. After she left the Steward's house, she called for Gimli. She needed a favor, as Éowyn, Faramir's betrothed. Legolas had followed his companion, and Éowyn was grateful; she had something to ask of Legolas as well.
"What can I do for you brave Shieldmaiden?" Gimli's eyes twinkled as he looked at her.
"I should need a favor Gimli, from your hands." Éowyn replied.
"Ask away, m'Lady," Gimli said
"The Ring of the Steward is made of Mithril. If I had other designs on it, could you work with such a metal as that?"
"Yes, of course Lady, why?" Gimli answered, tentatively.
"The ring is not worn by the Steward, it is only meant to be used as the seal of the Steward," Éowyn could feel her hope rising, "Could we perhaps turn that ring into a stamp, with a handle made of leather?"
"You wish to scrub that ring of the ghosts of his father," Legolas stated, inspired, "Can I see the leather you would want to use?"
Éowyn took the leather strap she had worn braided in her hair, and handed it to Legolas, "Faramir tied lavender with this for me, the very first gift of love. I should want to return it to him, while also taking away the hurt of that ring."
Legolas studied her, and the slightest of smiles came to his face, "Yes, Éowyn, I believe Gimli and I can do as you request. I imagine you have not run this by the Steward?"
"It is a surprise. I will attempt to get the ring this afternoon."
"I shall have a clay substitute Steward's seal ready for you then, and we will make an exchange," conspiratorial light was in Legolas's eye. Gimli caught the look of the elf and Éowyn, and laughed.
"It should take a week, if you can guarantee me use of Gondor's forge," Gimli whispered.
"I will have Éomer ask that Rohan have access to the forge, and it will be yours." Éowyn replied, "Thank you dear friends. Not only did you save my people, you've shared with me your friendship."
The three placed their hands together in promise and purpose. As Legolas and Gimli set off together to the lower levels, Éowyn smiled. To have friends such as these…
Éowyn imagined she could be distracting enough to swipe the ring, and would write a note to Faramir that she had taken it to be 'cleaned.' Éowyn had purposefully dressed in the white dress of her healer's uniform, and went to her apartment to grab her apprentice cap, and a loaf of bread that would serve as her lunch. She hoped this promised dinner at Faramir's would be ample. Éowyn then knocked on Éomer's door. He opened to her at once.
"Please ask Faramir to give Gimli use of the Gondor forge this week, on Rohan business," Éowyn said.
"Can I ask why sister?" Éomer looked suspicious
"For a gift, and for a surprise," Éowyn replied, "For the Steward."
Éomer frowned, but nodded his assent, "I know better than to ask you more."
Éowyn smiled, kissed his cheek, and was off. This was bolder than her usual ideas, but something in her gut told her that it was right. The ring, the symbol of Denethor's contempt, made anew with love, into a seal. A promise. She hoped Faramir had been entirely honest with her that the ring did not need to be worn.
Éowyn hailed Beregil, and saw that his smile was brighter than she had seen before.
"They've come!" Beregil could not hold in his excitement, "All are safe and whole."
Éowyn walked to her escort, took his hands in her's, and squeezed them tightly. "I am so happy for you. I can think of no one who deserves it more. Send your family my love."
Éowyn took Beregil's arm, and they headed to the sixth level, to the House of Healing. Éowyn listened raptly to Beregil's recounting of seeing his wife and children again. Of braiding his daughter's hair and lacing flowers through it. Of giving his son his first wooden sword.
"Then my daughter says, 'daddy, where's my sword? I want to be a shieldmaiden like the White Lady of Rohan', I almost fell out of my seat," Beregil's eyes were full of light, "Your bravery has inspired all our daughters."
Éowyn laughed, and could feel a tear in her eye. She hoped most fathers were like Beregil, who would give their daughters wooden swords if they asked. One fewer caged maiden in the world. When they arrived at the House of Healing, Éowyn turned to Beregil.
"Go and be with your family. Send word to the Steward that I am expecting his escort in the afternoon and have relieved you," Éowyn smiled brightly at Beregil. He deserved this time with his family.
Beregil bowed and went on his way. Éowyn turned and headed into the House.
"You're late," Ioreth's body read as stern, but her eyes twinkled.
"Deep apologies Ioreth, I was called by the Steward on important business," Éowyn was contrite.
"No worries girl, the Lord Aragorn has already explained your absence."
Aragorn. He seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time in the House of Healing. Éowyn understood his presence in that place, but still she clenched her fists. The healing hands of a King.
Yet, something had changed. She mused upon the look he gave her as she refused to remove the spoon from her nose, feeling his amusement in her gut. Not one of her finest moments, but then again he had come to them unannounced. He was not yet the King, he was simply a friend to the Hobbits and her brother in that moment. Yes, her standoff had been childish, but she knew in her heart that she would do it again.
At council, he continued to look at her with that inscrutable combination of emotions, and she swore she could feel his guilt. His eyes followed her, studied her. They contained puzzlement, they contained respect, they also contained sadness. It did not make sense. Had Faramir or Merry confronted him? She did not think so. She could not imagine either would do so without speaking to her first. Aragorn's eyes had been different since he returned with the host. Haunted. She could not understand…
Ioreth's voice broke into Éowyn's contemplation, "we should like more soothing salves and poultice dear. The patients are steadily improving, with some fit to be released today and tomorrow. But a few wounds require our careful attention."
Éowyn nodded, and headed to the herb cabinet. She was old-hand now at the concoctions, and was able to restock them without second-guessing. As she worked, Merry and Pippin found their way to her.
"You've come lady! We were worried you'd forgotten," Merry smiled, "Pip has not stopped talking about hot chocolate."
Éowyn laughed, "no my brave Hobbits, I did not forget. Before I can come and see your friends, I have duties to heal others in this House. I will be in to see Sam and Frodo as soon as they are completed."
Éowyn longed to go now, to follow Merry and Pippin into the east corridor, but she couldn't. Not just yet. She finished refilling the soothing salves and poultice. She then followed Ioreth into the great room, carrying the poultice.
"Alright, out of the nest, time to see if you fly," Ioreth said, "He's your patient. What does he need?"
Ioreth stepped back. Éowyn looked down at the soldier laying before her, a great bandage covering a long gash on his thigh. She smiled at the man, and got to work unwrapping his bandages. She could smell the infection that was there, but saw that she would not need to cut out more flesh.
"Ioreth, may I ask you to go fetch me one more of my poultice?" Éowyn asked shyly.
Ioreth's face drew a big smile, clearly she had assessed the situation correctly, "Yes, girl, I will be back."
The soldier's eyes were unfocused. Éowyn suspected that given the state of his wound, the healers had given him a strong sleeping draught. For the better, she thought, seeing the angry red of the gash. Éowyn began to carefully clean the wound. First she removed the poultice that had been packed by healers previously, and saw that it had done good work, drawing out much of the infection. Once done, she dabbed her cloth generously in alcohol and cleared the rest. When she judged she had done adequately, she turned for the poultice, to see that Ioreth had returned. The slightest of nods told Éowyn she was ready to proceed. Gently she repacked the new poultice into the wound, then reapplied the bandages.
"We think he will make it," Ioreth's eyes twinkled, "You're doing good work girl."
Éowyn smiled. This place, where the shadow of death was all around them, and the healers were soldiers, and now, she was one of them. Éowyn set to work on a few more soldiers, most with less severe wounds than the first. Some talked with her about their lives and families, through grimaces. Many thanked her for her defeat of the Wraith. Suddenly, her intuition pricked. His eyes were on her again, she knew. Éowyn looked up to see Aragorn making his apprehensive way over to her. Alien nerves came over her, nerves she was sure were not her own.
"You have healing hands," Aragorn said.
"So it seems."
Éowyn lowered her voice so others did not hear her terse replies to their King. How had he expected her to answer?
"I- I- meant that.. I was watching your touch with your patients, it's special. Noble."
Was Aragorn trying to apologize?
"Thank you."
Éowyn wanted to ask him what he was playing at, why he was watching her heal, but she stayed her tongue.
"If you should ever want to learn the ways of Dúnedain healing, I could teach you."
What was he trying to insinuate? Éowyn could feel a blush come to her cheeks. What was it that he was leaving unsaid? It unsettled her, but she did not think there was some undeclared love in his words. His words were… repentant.
"Perhaps… someday."
Éowyn turned and fled into the east corridor. The atmosphere felt too strange. As if Aragorn were at the cusp of saying something explosive, and she was not ready to hear it. Aragorn did not follow her, much to her relief.
Merry laughter rang from a room at the end of the corridor. She had found the Hobbits.
"Merry, Pippin!" Éowyn came through the door and received her hug, then looked at the bed and saw a smiling but thoughtful Hobbit. His eyes were bright, but Éowyn recognized the shadows there still, shadows like her's. That must be Sam, she thought.
As if on cue, a healer's assistant rushed forward.
"Lady and Hobbits, hot chocolate, courtesy of the Steward," she smiled, and placed a tray with a large carafe and five small cups.
"I told you Pip," Merry beamed, "She has Faramir wrapped around her finger."
"I daresay that you two do too, as he knew the request had come from you," Éowyn's eyes twinkled at them, she then turned her gaze to Sam, projecting her warmth and lightness, "Sam Gamgee, the whole of Middle Earth is in your debt. You and Frodo are heroes amongst heroes. Thank you."
Sam smiled shyly at her, "thank you Lady Éowyn. But I fear I did little save for keeping Mr. Frodo safe."
"Well, your love for Frodo was so great it held up the world," Éowyn replied, seeing that the humble Hobbit would not want her high praise, "And such a deed as love is worthy at least of hot chocolate."
Sam smiled and thanked her. Éowyn proceeded to pour four glasses of hot chocolate and pass them to the waiting Hobbits, serving Sam first.
"To love," Éowyn offered as a toast.
"To love." all replied, and they drank their hot chocolate.
"Merry, you did not tell me it would taste like that!" Pippin exclaimed, and looked as if he'd just stumbled onto treasure.
"Hot chocolate is difficult to describe Pip, so I thought to let you experience it for yourself," Merry said, "How about you Sam?"
"It is quite a treat, I should hope there will be enough left when Mr. Frodo awakes," Sam replied.
"That is another day yet," a voice came from the door, Aragorn.
"You couldn't wake him up today so that he can get hot chocolate?" Pippin looked at him pleadingly.
"I would not do that to him, not when he's found peace in his slumber so recently," Éowyn saw a thoughtful look pass between Aragorn and Sam at this. She knew those dreams too, she realized.
"And there will be more hot chocolate tomorrow," Éowyn replied.
There went Faramir's restocked stores. But she could not think of a worthier use.
Big smiles appeared on the Hobbit's faces.
"Perhaps tomorrow our healer can also provide us with a spoon to stir it," Aragorn said.
The room went silent, Éowyn looked at the King. I dare you to scold us for our game Aragorn. But one look at the laugh lines and light in his eyes, and Éowyn knew that was not the purpose. Then she heard snickers, and looked down at Merry and Pippin, who were turning red and trying not to laugh. It was too late, both broke and began laughing loudly. Éowyn smiled at Aragorn, who smiled back at her. So you have a sense of humor, King.
"What have I missed?" Sam looked scandalized.
"Perhaps in the rematch tomorrow night, we shall teach you. Prince Imrahil will have a party now that his kin are near to the castle," Éowyn let a chuckle escape, and tapped her nose meaningfully, "The stakes are high, but the last spoon standing wins."
Merry and Pippin broke into even louder laughter, and upon looking at Aragorn, she saw a smile of understanding.
"And with this, I must take my leave of you. Sam, it was a pleasure. I should look forward to speaking more with you," Éowyn winked, and stood, "The hot chocolate is yours to finish and share as you see fit. The Steward will not deny me a request for more tomorrow, especially for the most honored guests of Gondor and Rohan."
As she was about to pass, Aragorn stopped her.
"Lady, Merry, might I ask you to join me in the hall for one moment?" Aragorn's anxiousness found a place in Éowyn's gut.
Both exchanged a loaded look, and went with him. Éowyn felt nausea, again, not her own.
Aragorn continued, but his usually steady voice quavered ever so slightly, "I will be visiting the Steward tonight as well for dinner. I hope you don't mind."
Merry's face turned grave, and before answering, he looked searchingly at Éowyn. Aragorn watched the exchange too, and Éowyn could see some of the color drain from his face. She wanted to refuse, to turn away indifferently, as he had done in Meduseld, but she couldn't. Something in his eyes was pleading, beyond a polite inquiry, there was some sort of need.
"We do not mind," Éowyn replied.
"Not at all!" Merry followed suit, and she could see the relief in the little Hobbit… and in the King.
She was not sure she had spoken the truth, she did mind. But something in her heart told her that this Aragorn was very different from the Aragorn she had met but a month ago, and she wanted to understand why. Faramir had said there was something she needed to be told; she realized it was something that involved Aragorn. Perhaps he had confronted the King about her. She put it out of her mind, she trusted Faramir. She would understand tonight.
Éowyn's shift was now over, and she scuffled off to a healer's bath chamber that Ioreth had requested for her. She washed quickly, for every second she was bathing was one second less with Faramir. When she dried herself, she put on the white dress the healers had provided for her, rebraided her hair (now tied with a ribbon rather than leather), and set forth for the entrance.
Faramir was standing erect, waiting for her. Her beloved. Éowyn took in the marvel that was her fiancé, tall and muscled. A handsome face and soulful gray eyes. She looked forward to every moment with him, and was starting to feel the urge to know and explore more. She thought about placing her hands under his tunic, feeling his skin and sinew. She blushed. Faramir seemed to have read her mind, because his smile lit his entire body, and there was fire in his eyes. They closed the distance between them, and their kiss told her the thoughts in Faramir's mind likely mirrored her own.
"One more moment!" Éowyn had almost forgotten, and ran back in to grab the small container of soothing salve she had put aside, "In case my brother…"
Faramir laughed, "yes, I am quite bruised. Thankfully Éomer has now found something else to occupy his time…"
Éowyn blanched, but then her face filled with delight. Lothíriel. Faramir and she exchanged a conspiratorial look. She could not wait to meet his cousins, and see the fate of Éomer in Lothíriel's presence. Éowyn took Faramir's hand. She wondered too if she could truly take that ring without his notice, and if he would tell her more about their dinner tonight. With the King. "Come, Steward of Gondor, my studies and your study await." Éowyn gave his cheek one more small kiss.
May that place start to have more pleasant memories for you Faramir, she gave his hand a final squeeze and they set off for the Steward's office.