I haven't done a disclaimer in a while, so let me add one in here: I do not own any of these characters, and have no intention of profiting from this story in which I borrow them.
The five miles between the gate in the wall surrounding the fields of Pelennor and the gates of Minas Tirith felt like five hundred to Eowyn. She rode beside her brother in the bright spring sun, but was silent, and was clearly troubled. Noticing this, her brother asked her quietly, "Are you sure this is what you want, sister? It is not too late…"
She looked at him quickly, and smiled warmly. "I am sure, brother." She reached out to take his hand, giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance before returning her attention to the road ahead. Knowing her well, he simply waited for her to speak again. "It is just… Everything seems to be a ceremony in Gondor! And there are so many customs and traditions that I know nothing of, which seem to dictate everything… down the choice of what color gown to wear to each ceremony. What do I know of choosing fabrics or colors?"
Eomer chuckled, for he remembered well the constant battles Eowyn had given her maids about what was and was not appropriate for a princess to wear when she was a girl, and how he, Theodred and Theoden had laughed about them when she was no longer in the room.
Eowyn laughed as well, then sobered, "I can choose the best of several swords that are offered to me with ease, or identify the pick of the yearling foals in the pastures, you and Theodred saw to that long ago. But what do I know of how to behave in this court, with elves and dwarves and all manner of high people?" She then sighed. "Of course they will likely expect a wild shieldmaiden out of the north to prove herself uncouth, so it would hardly be a scandal if I err, and in truth I care not for their opinion of me. I… I would not reflect poorly on Faramir, or cause his people to think less of him for choosing a woman that they see as unworthy of their steward." She sighed again, a sound of pure frustration, then shook her head "Forgive me, brother. I had not meant to say so much…" This time Eomer reached out to squeeze her hand, but since they were now approaching the crowds surrounding the gates he said nothing, even though they were speaking in Rohirric.
As they had when the king had arrived for his coronation the previous year, many of the people of Minas Tirith had gathered at the gates. Faramir, along with his uncle and the king, stood before them all, and his smile grew as his bride drew closer. When the Rohirrim had dismounted, and their horses been lead away to be tended and stabled, Eomer placed Eowyn's hand in the steward's, and the people cheered loudly as Faramir kissed her fingers and smiled at her. She returned the smile brightly, though her hand grasped his tightly. He then turned to the gates, Eowyn's hand still in his, and together they lead the procession into the city.
Still the people cheered as they walked past, and many threw flowers onto the road before them. Eowyn smiled through it all, her hand gripping Faramir's, until a young girl of maybe 7 years stepped out from the crowd and offered her a small clutch of flowers. A wooden sword was tucked through the belt at her waist and her dark hair was braided back, as Eowyn's had been when she rode out from the city months before. Eowyn looked at Faramir, who gave a small nod of encouragement, then stopped before the girl and crouched down to her level. She accepted the flowers from the small hands, then spoke softly to her, "That is a fine sword you carry!" The girl grinned, and nodded. "My father made it for me. I'm going to learn how to fight, so I can save the city, like you did!" Eowyn gave a soft laugh, and ran her hand over the dark hair, "Oh child, may you never have the need." Then she grinned and whispered conspiratorially. "But it is always good to be prepared."
Standing, she looked at Faramir, and he reached for her hand again, holding it firmly in his as they resumed walking towards the citadel. He spoke quietly, so that only she could hear above the noise of the crowd. "Many of our girls have taken an interest in learning to fight with a sword these days. Indeed, it is not now uncommon to come across girls playing at swords in the streets, as our boys have done for generations." He smiled down at her. "They all wish to be shieldmaidens, and to be remembered in songs as you are." Unable to speak, she merely smiled up at him, then leaned her head against his arm for a moment as they walked, and he squeezed her hand. She was stopped by several more girls before they reached the citadel, so that her left arm was full of flowers when they at last arrived at the citadel.
Author's Note: Thank you to all who have written reviews, and especially to those who are following my story! It's appreciated more than I know how to express!