Éowyn stared at the window of the white house. Her candle was lit, and now she just had to wait. She knew he would come. But the minutes of waiting felt endless. The pit in her stomach from her time with Aragorn had finally abated, but his guilt still haunted her. Of course the second side effect of drawing someone from the shadow was an intense connection to their emotions. It was like a cosmic joke. The man who nearly drove her into the shadow in the first place now shared a connection with her mind.

But Éowyn needed to be honest. It was not just Aragorn's scorn that set her path. It was every little (or big) humiliation up until that moment too. Not just the moments of Gríma's hunt, but also other moments. The moment her uncle forgot to name her leader in his stead, despite her having earned the love of their people. The moments she was alone, trying to find a way to fly while protecting Théoden, and finding that the only way to protect him was to endure Gríma. Those moments as much as Aragorn set her on her path.

And now, here she was. She won the acclaim she had always craved, defeating a foe beyond all those who would have her stay at home. She'd found the deep and enduring love of a man who craved her company as much as her touch (and she his). She had found friends, and watched Aragorn come to her to beg her forgiveness. It was time to forgive, and it was time to let go. She had freed herself from her cage, and had a real chance to find happiness and meaning. It was time to take it.

Éowyn sighed, she wanted Faramir. As if hearing her silent pleas, a faint light appeared in his window. Then the unmistakable point of candlelight. Éowyn knew he had seen her window, so she blew out her candle. She grabbed her robe from her closet, pressed her feet into her slippers, and headed toward the door. When she opened it, Faramir was there, out of breath. Éowyn could not contain her smile. He not only came to her, he'd clearly sprinted.

"Tell me your sorrows min elskede," Faramir stepped over the threshold, and they closed the door behind them.

Éowyn walked deliberately to Faramir, so close that they were practically touching. She closed her eyes and took in his smell, leather and soap. She leaned and let her body press against his, and she felt Faramir's arms come around her. She did not think there was a place in the world she would feel safer than right there in those arms. Faramir kissed her brow. No words were needed, not in that moment. She listened to the beat of Faramir's heart, and listened to the sound of his breathing. The steady rhythm of him, the softness of his touch counterbalanced with the hardness of his muscle created in Éowyn a sense of complete calm. She breathed him in and felt the unease and angst from the revelation of that day and her confrontation with Aragorn melt away from her. Suddenly she was exhausted. She wanted to lay down, but she did not want that moment, enveloped in Faramir's arms, to end. Éowyn knew what she wanted, and what she would be asking.

"I needs must ask you for something min elskede," Éowyn started, drawing her head up to face his loving gaze.

"Anything," Faramir replied.

"Will you come… sleep with me?" the words were out of Éowyn's mouth. She was not sure what his answer would be.

"Min elskede…" his body tensed, but he did not let her go.

"No. I mean. I meant sleep." Éowyn tried to explain, his arms were her soothing lullaby. She somehow knew she would get uninterrupted sleep, so long as he was there.

Faramir looked at her, and she could see that he was considering what to do. Finally Faramir seemed to have come to a decision.

"I will not sleep in your bed," Faramir's word was firm, but Éowyn could sense there was more, "But neither of us have been getting proper rest. I will stay with you, but I will not sleep."

"I should hope that this stance will change the moment we are wed," Éowyn retorted, she was jesting, but she was also quite serious.

Faramir laughed lightly, "Min elskede, sharing our bed is what I look most forward to."

He then leaned in and kissed Éowyn between the eyes.

Faramir then continued, "I have spent enough nights on watch duty in Ithilien. I will stay until the earliest twilight, if only to see you sleep soundly."

"Why the worry?" Éowyn was genuinely curious. If it was not about sharing a bed, what was it?

"I do not want to be taken unawares," Faramir had started stroking Éowyn's hair, "By your angry brother or by the toxic lips of courtiers. I will not have you be a target for them, nor do I want to be a target for Éomer's sword. the sharp one."

Éowyn laughed, "well. Meet me then in my room. I need to do one thing before I settle."

She kissed her raven haired Steward, who let go then apprehensively took steps toward her bedroom. Éowyn then grabbed a small piece of parchment and jotted a note to Éomer on it. She would not be surprised if he came charging in, especially if they were still talking, and wanted to avoid the confrontation. She knew the words to use, and expected that they would speak more of it in the morning.

He is still out, Éowyn mused, then it dawned on her, with Lothíriel.

A knowing grin radiated from Éowyn's face as she walked into her bedroom. Faramir was there on her bed, fidgeting with his hands, and looking extremely uncomfortable. Éowyn rolled her eyes at him.

"Faramir, not only have you watched me sleep before, you've also been on my bed," Éowyn carried amusement in her voice. But of course she knew this was different than the times in the garden of the House of Healing, or with Merry.

Faramir did not reply, clearly he had read her thoughts. But then Éowyn could see the light in his eye, and he opened his arm to accept her into him. He was nervous, but he was also exhilarated. Éowyn paused. Was she really ready? Was her instinct to sleep with his arms around her really the right one? But then Éowyn thought about the years ahead of them in their lives, and knew that she wanted that life to start now, taking the small pleasures they could, before their vows were said and all wondrous things were open to them. Éowyn kicked off her shoes, shrugged off her robe, and crawled next to Faramir, filling the welcoming gap he had formed between his body and his arm. She fit, and it felt right, as if that crevice of Faramir had been waiting an eternity only for her.

"My brother is out with your cousin," Éowyn whispered in Faramir's ear, "I almost wish I could sit in his apartment judgmentally as he did to me last night. But I fear I find where I currently am far too enjoyable."

"Then would it be you providing lumps to Lothíriel in sparring?" Faramir chuckled, "What exactly was it that you said to him?"

"I told him how it felt to be in love," Éowyn laid her head onto Faramir's chest, "He has been scared ever since the night in the stables that all experiences women have with love and men are like that."

Éowyn could hear Faramir's heartbeat quicken at her words. She took his hand and caressed it with her fingers. It was not immediate, but Faramir's heartbeat slowed. Éowyn then turned her eyes to Faramir's, she wanted him to see every thought as she spoke.

"There aren't similarities. He wanted to take me by force. And I would have died rather than let him," Éowyn pierced Faramir with her gaze, "To you, I give my love freely. I want to be near you. I want to share my sorrows and my joys with you. I want to listen to your stories. I want to feel your touch on my skin, and I want to touch you. I think upon you and on us and on our lives, and it brings me this wellspring of happiness. I am safe with you, sleeping or awake. I can let down my shield. I know I am safe."

Éowyn's words seemed more than Faramir could take, and he pulled her in for a kiss. Tender but reaching, and they let the joy of it linger, tasting one another's mouths and lips. Éowyn loved the way it felt when he kissed her, as if he projected all of himself into his lips.

"I love you min elskede," Faramir whispered between breaths and kisses, "Every word you said is true of me too, and the joy you bring to my heart saying them overflows. You could be a common maid and still I would take you to wife. In the morning I smile thinking upon the first time I will see you. What I will say that can bring you a smile. What I can do to ease your pain. I am besotted."

"Well it appears it is a good thing you are marrying me," Éowyn smiled at him, "For you are hopeless"

"Entirely," Faramir smiled into Éowyn's mouth, and placed another kiss on her lips.

Éowyn was torn. She wanted to continue this bliss, to let Faramir's kisses and touch stoke the fire that was burning inside her, but she also knew that she needed sleep, and she wanted to see if his calm would lull her into the fitless slumber she so hoped for. Faramir seemed to read her thoughts.

"Close your eyes min elskede, and I will tell you stories of Dol Amroth and Lothíriel," Faramir pressed one final kiss onto Éowyn's forehead, "Since you've already heard the story of my close call with the Kracken, let me tell you of Lothíriel and the dagger."

"Is that where one of your many scars came from?" Éowyn whispered.

"Miraculously no, though Boromir bore at least one friendly scar from his cousins," Faramir replied, letting his head rest on Éowyn's, "Lothíriel's hair was the victim. She was tired of being treated like a girl, so she cut off her hair in protest."

Éowyn snorted. She had sometimes dreamed of cutting off her hair, but had never gone through with it.

"I will need to teach Lothíriel to braid her hair after the elven fashion," Éowyn mused, and she and Faramir laughed.

"We were not including her in our games. Her protest taught us a lesson: to ignore her for being a girl caused her to believe she was only a person if she were a boy. Imrahil was furious. We never left her out again."

"Did she spar?" Éowyn asked

"No, only in jest," Faramir replied, "She liked to feign injury to get the upper hand on Boromir or I. We always fell for it, though her brothers did not."

Éowyn liked Lothíriel.

"...My poor brother," she laughed

They heard someone enter the apartment at that moment. Faramir tensed, but Éowyn gently put her hand on his chest. As long as he saw the note, she knew he would leave them be.

"You are absolutely sure he is not about to murder me?" Faramir was smiling, but Éowyn could feel his tension, "My sword is too far away should he decide to charge."

"He fears me far more than he fears you min elskede," Éowyn whispered, "And running into my bedroom to face me, knowing I am not in danger and have given him my word? His trust in me and his love will stay his most protective instincts. Trust me."

As if Éowyn's words were prophetic, she heard Éomer sigh, then head back out the door. Faramir exhaled below her, but she just smiled. She was blessed to have Éomer as her brother.

"Now min elskede, close your eyes and sleep. I will be here until the first twilight," Faramir pressed one last kiss upon Éowyn's brow, and she gave in.

Faramir spoke softly to her, regaling tales of the early days. Of the Valar and Morgoth and the Silmarils. Of valor and love. And his words were a lullaby, gently bringing her to the slumber she had longed for since she first heard those muffled footsteps outside her door.

When Éowyn awoke, she found that she was alone, and dawn had broken. A small note lay next to her.

Min elskede,

The first twilight has now come through your window, and I must leave you. Your peace in sleep brought joy to my heart. I will always come if you call. Breakfast will be waiting for you (and your brother…) at the Steward's House.

Love,
Faramir

Éowyn smiled and stretched. She felt more renewed than she had in a long time. It felt like the morning of a different person's life, a happier person's life, but it was hers. And so was Faramir.