4 weeks later: 2 days before coronation.
"Ioreth, I need another splint," Éowyn gently reset the bones as the worker grimaced, "Just a few more seconds, and I will be done!"
The man looked skeptical, but nodded. Éowyn smiled. She wanted to tell him that his injury was simple, that he would be well in no time, but the pain on his face told her that her cheery words would not be appreciated.
"You fell from the second level to the first you say?" Ioreth had walked over and passed Éowyn a splint. Ioreth had long stopped needing to shadow Éowyn, who'd finished much of her coursework in record time.
"Was finishing up repairing a wall that took a trebuchet blast and just missed my step," the grimacing man replied.
"You will need to rest your arm for at least a week," Éowyn commanded the man, "Then another couple of months of gentle use before it will be ready for the type of hard labor you were doing before…"
"But.. what will I do Lady Éowyn?" the man pleaded, "I must feed my family."
"I will ask the Steward if you can serve temporarily as a page," Éowyn replied, she knew Faramir had need of pages for the plethora of honored guests appearing from all ends of Middle Earth, "It does not pay quite as well as your skilled labor, but enough to make ends meet while you heal."
"Thank you Lady," the worker's features were still pained, but the pain had lessened, simply knowing that his injury would not cause his family to starve. Éowyn squeezed his good hand, and moved to get up.
"Ioreth, any more for today?" Éowyn called over.
"You are free," Ioreth walked to Éowyn, "From your first to your last day with us, you have been a blessing my dear girl. Please think of us in Rohan, and when you have married our beloved Steward."
Éowyn smiled brightly, "Ioreth, I shall return! I am not yet finished with my apprenticeship and will see it through. I also plan to bring with me all Rohirric remedies, so we can begin the exchange of knowledge and ideas."
"Yes, well…" Ioreth pulled Éowyn in for an iron hug, "We will miss you all the same. You have healing hands, and we have been blessed to see you heal, then shine."
"One more thing," Ioreth whispered, "The healers… well, the ladies… chipped in to get you something. Don't open it until you are alone."
Ioreth placed a small brown package in Éowyn's hand, then grinned, "It is a wedding gift."
"Thank you Ioreth, for everything. You do not know how much you all have meant to me," Éowyn could feel a tear in her eye, as she fingered at the small package in her hands, "And I promise, I will return to you - to this place."
The House of Healing had become her home, nearly as dear to her than Rohan. Leaving the healers who had opened their hearts to her, and to her patients, whom she had watched recover was bittersweet. Éowyn turned to the Warden's office, and headed in.
"Today is my last day Warden," Éowyn smiled serenely at the man who'd introduced her to Faramir, "But expect me back, a fount of Rohirric healing knowledge, ready to complete my studies."
The Warden wore an enormous grin, "Éowyn, you have already exceeded all expectations. You've read near every book on healing that Gondor can provide, and proven yourself to be adept at healing all but the most difficult cases. You are no apprentice, even as your apprenticeship is required to continue for two more years."
Éowyn blushed at the Warden's compliment, "I… just want to make sure you understand, today is not the last. I may return happily wed to the Steward, but still will I also be a healer."
"I don't doubt it," the Warden replied, "And neither did Faramir. He came by this morning to ask for the last books of your studies to be copied, so you can bring them with you to Rohan if you desire."
Éowyn beamed. Her soon-to-be husband. Éowyn walked to the Warden, and squeezed his hand.
"The day you denied me my wish for death is the day you saved my life Warden," Éowyn sniffled, "Thank you for helping me find meaning in it as well."
When she looked closely at the Warden's eyes, she saw a tear there too. She would miss this place, but she knew she would be back. A parting, but for a short time.
"Tell King Elessar that he often mixes too many crushed dandelions into his soothing salve," Éowyn broke the heavy moment, "It makes the patients more euphoric than is desired. Tell him Éowyn said so"
The Warden laughed, "So I shall."
With that last moment, Éowyn let go of the Warden's hand, and left the House of Healing. When she returned to finish her apprenticeship, so much would be changed. There would be a King of Gondor again. Her big brother would be the King of Rohan. And she would be a woman wed. Faramir would be hers. She felt her pace quicken as she walked toward her apartment. She would take a bath, then head to the Steward's.
In her bath, Éowyn reflected on the remarkable month.
Four weeks in each other's presence had set a routine. Every night, their candles shone for each other, a sign of love. Every night, Faramir was there. He had kept his promise never to sleep, and watched over Éowyn in her slumber. Every afternoon, she returned the favor.
There were times she'd been haunted by particularly horrific nightmares, crying out into the night as she was pulled underwater by gauntleted hands, or heard a key finally unbolt her lock, letting in the ghoul. But each time such a dream came to consume her, a gentle light illuminated her path away from the shadows. Faramir's light. Upon waking, she always felt his hand stroking her brow, whispering to her, "it is a dream min elskede. I am here. I love you." She would feel his warmth against her, hear his heartbeat, run her hands through the hair of his chest; the overwhelming power of his love returned her to safety. The nightmares never returned when she resettled into slumber. Faramir's light guarded her, and not since she was a child had she rested so peacefully.
Their closeness abed had led to a strain, but it was the strain against experiencing the bliss awaited them when their careful control could be let go. Éomer did not approve of Faramir's nightly visits, but he had long since given up trying to stop them. Perhaps because he knew not to fight his sister (though Éomer's energy in sparring the Steward had gained intensity). Éowyn was also sure that Éomer's silence was because he recognized the change that Faramir's presence had had on her. She laughed more. She smiled. She breathed in the fresh air and felt life in her lungs and through her limbs. A few times, the two siblings had taken their horses out for extended exercise, riding to Osgiliath for a picnic.
They spoke of their hopes, of the future, of their fears of what may come when they returned to Edoras. Erkenbrand had taken good care of Rohan in their absence, but there was much to do. Éomer had fallen for Lothíriel, and Éowyn was sure that Éomer was spending near as much time with the Princess of Dol Amroth as she was spending with the Steward. Watching light come into her brother had meant more to her than she thought possible.
Éowyn dried her hair, then left it down. Faramir seemed to like to touch it when he woke from nightmares, which he had in greater numbers than she did. Éowyn then looked over at the gift she had waited to give him. Gimli had finished the work on the first weeks ago, but Legolas's clay seal had worked so well that Éowyn had decided to hold off presenting it until she had the set. Inspiration came the night of Imrahil's party. The night Faramir (unofficially) became a Prince.
She and Gandalf had gone into the archives, and she had found the original seal of the House of Húrin. It was a crest with the jagged mountains of the Emyn Arnen valley, with the white tree and seven stars of Gondor at its base. Éowyn and Legolas added an additional flourish, a line of the Anduin and the more jagged line of Ephel Dúath, the signet of the Prince of Ithilien, of the House of Húrin. Aragorn had loved it, donating the Mithril himself to make the seal. Éowyn finished the piece by spiriting away a part of the saddle from Boromir's horse, which Legolas again fashioned into a remarkable handle. Two parting gifts, so Faramir would remember who he is. Today was the day Éowyn would finally present them to her raven-haired Steward.
She packed the two seals in a bag, and stepped out of her door. She smiled up at Faramir's window, knowing that he had been looking for her. Faramir read during the night as Éowyn slept, and met with dignitaries and finished correspondence while Éowyn was in the House of Healing. But with three days until she left for Rohan, Faramir had grown restless, savoring every moment he could spend with her.
The door opened before she could knock, and she saw her love on the other side. Éowyn walked in and closed the door. She pulled Faramir in for a kiss, and let her hands explore as they loved doing. She loved feeling the small of Faramir's back, and the little dimples there. He had finally given in, and let her hands freely wander his skin. She felt Faramir grab onto her hair, and brought his mouth to her neck. Éowyn felt her nerves shudder as Faramir grazed the spot with his teeth. They'd found that particular sensation only last week, and enjoyed testing it further when they were in private.
"Min elskede, if you keep this up, you will get no sleep," Éowyn whispered breathily, not wanting Faramir to stop, but knowing he had to, Faramir's sleep only came when she was there.
"You will be gone for so long Éowyn, I want to make sure I have as many memories as I can," Faramir's eyes were alight with fire and mischief, "Just a few more minutes? Then I promise, I will fall asleep as you read."
Éowyn pushed him away gently, "I have gifts for you."
"Besides yourself?" Faramir grinned, "I could need no other."
"You can give me these kisses and many more for the rest of our lives," Éowyn looked into his twinkling gray eyes, "But I can only give you this gift once, and I want at least a couple of days to see you enjoy them before I must go away."
"Okay me'a en' coiamin," Faramir stole one more kiss, "But your kisses are better gifts than anything else you may have up your sleeve. And I am not sure my study can survive many more of your other gifts!"
"It was only the chair that met its destruction at my hands! And Éomer has confirmed that the finest Rohirric horsehair is on the way," Éowyn grinned, "We have found a craftsman on the second level who has agreed to build you one anew."
"I still have not seen what you've done to the ring," Faramir retorted.
"Then let that mystery be solved today," Éowyn smiled.
Faramir looked down at the parcel Éowyn had placed on the entry table when they'd greeted. Éowyn picked it up and handed it to Faramir.
"Open the black one first," Éowyn said, barely containing her excitement.
Faramir did as instructed. Out it came. The ring of the Steward, now expertly worked into a seal. The Steward's mark was perfectly preserved by the master hand of Gimli.
"This handle, it is familiar to me," Faramir was fingering the soft leather that was stretched over the wood and cork, then brought it to his nose, "Lavender…"
Éowyn blushed, "It was the first token of your love. This… is what has become of the leather strap you wrapped the lavender in for me… during our healing."
Faramir pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. Éowyn could hear his breathing quaver, then he kissed her. She reveled in these moments, when she could bring him such an overpowering sense of joy that she was sure that all his dark memories had fled. Even for just a moment. She suspected it was about to get better.
"Every day I doubt that it is possible for me to love you more," Faramir said, "And every day you do something… like this and show me that I am wrong, that loving you more is not only possible, but inevitable."
Éowyn kissed Faramir's cheek softly, tasting the salty tear that had escaped his eye.
"I am sorry you had to wait so long for your seal to be returned to you," Éowyn smiled hopefully, "Now open the next one."
Faramir hesitated, then pulled apart the green cloth. Another seal.
"What is…" Faramir started, then abruptly stopped; as he studied the seal, he started to tremble, "House of Húrin. You made me a seal of my House."
"Your Steward's seal needed a sibling," Éowyn's words burst out of her, "Gandalf escorted me into the archives, and we found the seal of your House. Legolas helped me add to the design…"
"You added Ithilien," Faramir's voice was now heavy with tears, as he ran his thumb over the engraved Anduin and mountains.
"We did," Éowyn replied, "Aragorn gave his approval for the design, and was the one to give us the Mithril. Gimli worked the design into the seal. Then we used leather from your brother's saddle to fashion the handle."
"You found Boromir's saddle. So you could make a House of Húrin seal." Faramir had not composed himself.
"I… hope you like it?" Éowyn said the words tentatively.
"Éowyn…" Faramir was shaking his head, he'd given in to the moment, "This is… perfect. You… you… are perfect..."
Éowyn had rendered Faramir as near speechless as she'd ever seen him. He pulled her in again, and hugged her. She could feel his tears fall onto her shoulder, and knew they were tears of joy. She had dearly hoped that she could bring this happiness to him. Give him his brother back, give him his family back, but do so in a way that did not pain him. Faramir breathed deeply and his tears abated, then he looked into Éowyn's eyes. His hand gently brushed her jaw, and he leaned in, placing the tenderest of kisses on her mouth, and she could feel his love pass into her.
Faramir had given her freedom, and unconditional love. He'd made it clear that she was free to find joy completely uncaged. He'd scoured every library for books on healing, translating them himself. Faramir had even found a Númenorean book of healing written in Quenyan. He'd transcribed that book himself, to ensure that every word was correct, and every image was perfectly copied.
Because of Faramir, Éowyn had healed the broken girl who'd wished for death, revealing a woman who could see the hurts of the world, and heal them. Through Éowyn, Faramir was no longer the broken boy afraid of making his father's mistakes, but a man with the wisdom and vision to bring about a new world. She wanted the rest of it. She wanted the last barriers that separated her from her beloved to fall away. She wanted their marriage bed. She wanted to make love to him. Faramir was a man of his word, and their wedding night would be the first time they coupled, but that did not stop Éowyn's desire to have her marvel of a man right now. She knew that she would count down the days until Faramir joined her in Rohan, and finally they joined.
"Min elskede, I'm not sure my heart can take those thoughts," Faramir was looking at Éowyn's eyes, clearly reading some of her mind, "You've stolen my heart, and my soul. If you keep thinking of stealing the last, my body, I fear I will drop dead for the overpowering bliss you fill me with."
Éowyn laughed, Faramir had recovered enough to find his words.
"It is not my fault," Éowyn pinched Faramir's cheek, "That you are so tempting min elskede."
"If I tempt you," Faramir pulled Éowyn in close, "Just imagine how much you tempt me…"
"You needs must stop underestimating women Faramir," Éowyn was dead serious, "Lust is not solely the provenance of men."
Faramir groaned, Éowyn loved causing him to make that sound. He always composed himself eventually, yet it titillated her seeing him give in for those brief moments to his own lust. Éowyn thought it spoke well of the health of their eventual marriage bed.
"Now you've done it. I shall not sleep," Faramir pulled Éowyn back in and kissed her, biting her lower lip playfully. He took a handful of her hair and tugged on it. If Faramir kept this up, Éowyn was certain that sleep would evade them… Éowyn pushed Faramir away. Faramir needed his sleep.
"You will always know how to stoke my desire min elskede," Éowyn let her hand linger on Faramir's chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart, "Come, the garden awaits us. Time for you to sleep."
Éowyn took Faramir's hand and led him out to the garden. A blanket was waiting in their well-worn glade. Éowyn leaned against her tree, and Faramir lay his head in her lap. Éowyn looked in Faramir's eyes, and she saw so many things. She saw their life in those eyes. She saw their children running into his waiting arms. She saw them watching the sun rise together, growing old and watching Ithilien come to life. It was all there, and it was shared.
"Close your eyes," Éowyn leaned down, and kissed the lids of both of those precious gray eyes, "I hope you dream the dreams I see in your eyes Faramir."
"What did you see min elskede?" Faramir closed his eyes, and Éowyn stroked his brow.
"I saw Ithilien, growing strong in our care," Éowyn replied, and she saw a smile bloom on Faramir, "I saw us watching the sunrise over Emyn Arnen, old and wrinkled. I saw our children. Running to you."
Faramir's smile did not fade, but his breathing became steadier, deeper. Finally, he was dreaming. Éowyn wiped the tear that had materialized in her eye. Meeting Faramir convinced Éowyn to heed the songs of the Ainur. So much had to happen to bring them together: A ring. A retreat. Sorrow and desperation. A hundreds year old prophecy. A Hobbit. A King with healing hands. And now here they were, together. It could only have been through the intervention of the divine.
She did not say it, but she was afraid to return to Rohan. The ghosts in that place would haunt her again. But she would be there for her brother, she would help him build the Rohan that they'd spoken of on those picnics. He assured her that she would return a hero, but he did not understand that around every corner was a memory of Gríma. Or Théoden. Meduseld was full of despair for her. She would count down every moment she was away from Faramir. As she thought about it, she looked down at her sleeping Steward, and pressed a long lingering kiss on his slumbering lips. At the touch of her lips, his eyes opened.
"Min elskede?" Faramir was studying her.
"Sorry," Éowyn should have known better, Faramir was the lightest of sleepers.
"Tell me your sorrows," Faramir did not move his head, but he took her hand and kissed it.
"I was thinking of Meduseld," Éowyn replied, "That place was so dark when I fled, full of trapped despair."
"Expect a letter from me with every messenger," Faramir was looking at Éowyn, "And I swear if you ask, I will ride to you."
"You need to be here with your new King min elskede," Éowyn replied, "As much as I need to be there with my brother."
"Promise me," Faramir did not break Éowyn's gaze, "That if you need me, you will ask. I can't bear your pain if I have it in my power to relieve it Éowyn."
"I promise," Éowyn leaned down, and kissed Faramir, "And I too will write to you with every messenger going between Rohan and Gondor."
"Six weeks will go by quickly," Faramir said.
"Close your eyes again min elskede," Éowyn gently touched Faramir's brow, "Think of our reunion, and think of that wonderful day that you and I become husband and wife. Think upon our wedding night, and let yourself drift back to sleep."
"Speaking of our wedding night will do nothing to relax me," Faramir grinned playfully.
"Then think about our children, of sunrises and sunsets, of Ithilien." Éowyn replied, he would sleep, if she had to make him. Faramir finally obeyed, and Éowyn waited until his breathing was steady and deep.
Éowyn took the package out of her pocket, a wedding gift from the healers. To be opened when she was alone. She untied it carefully and saw it was a small golden book. She looked at the title: Book of the Flesh. Éowyn nearly started, but steadied herself before she awoke her sleeping Steward once more. Her cheeks turned red, but Éowyn felt a smile blossom on her face.
This is a mighty gift, Éowyn's smile had turned impish, a gift for me and a gift for him.
She carefully repacked the package. She would study this book with the same devotion she did all other books of healing. She would read it every time she felt the haunts of Meduseld. Her wedding night. The man she so desired. And in her hands, the tools to make that night one of sacred joy, but also of profound pleasure. Six weeks. Éowyn could make it.
My dear Steward, you will not be able to share the contents of the letters I will be writing you, Éowyn grinned. Word by word, page by page, she would share that book with Faramir. It would be her secret bliss in Meduseld's darkness, and it would be her reward on their wedding night.