A/N: Eep…have a) forgotten disclaimer and b) forgot to mention that this is an AU. Please tell me if the plotline goes wacko, because with the one I have in mind there are soooooo many places it could get really weird.

Disclaimer: Own none. Really wish I did, especially Faramir (yummy!) but own none.

Chapter Two: Steward of Gondor

I waited in the Golden Hall, nervous and a bit frightened. What would she think of me? We hadn't seen each other in nearly two years. Would she think I looked nice, or bad? Had she thought about me? Did she care about me? Did she miss me?

I had missed her, far more then I cared to admit. I'd dreamed about her, more then once, seeing her standing on the walls of Minas Tirith, her hair blowing behind her: had dreamed of her facing the Nazgul. Those dreams left me shaking, terrified at how close I had come to losing her.

Don't be silly, I scolded myself. She's not yours, she was never yours.

Of course, this changed nothing.

A whisper of air behind me announced her entrance. I swallowed hard and turned...and nearly dropped my gloves. She was beautiful, even more beautiful then I remembered her. Her pale gold hair rippled down her back, held away from her face by the clasp I'd given her, and my heart leapt to see it. A simple golden collar circled her white throat, a horse carved into the front. The dress she wore cascaded over her body in a swirl of white silk and golden embroidery, clinging lovingly to her breasts and hips and swirling down over her...

I squelched those thoughts. Fast.

"My lords, my lady, may I present my sister, Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan?"

Certainly you may present her, Éomer. It gives me a chance to kiss her hand. It gives me a chance to touch her at all, and see if her skin is still as soft as I remember.

"My lord." Éowyn stood before me, dipping into a curtsey. I managed to get enough control over myself to bow as well, wondering how I had missed her speaking to Aragorn. In Minas Tirith, I had watched every second she spent with another man, afire with jealousy. Now...

"My lady." I kissed her hand...it was as soft as I remembered it, but with the same calluses under the pale skin, calluses from riding. Quite a difference from the useless ladies of Gonder who were currently casting their nets for me. Boromir would have tumbled them cheerfully, but I...

"It is too long since you were last at Edoras, my lord," she said, in that soft, husky voice of hers that made me want to catch her in my arms and kiss her breathless.

"I must agree, but unfortunately my people seem to think that they need to come running to me with every little problem that comes up." I saw the flash of mirth in her eyes and felt an answering smile rise on my lips. "I send them to my king. He needs to do more then sit around making calf's-eyes at his queen."

I cursed myself almost as I said those words, knowing how she had loved my king...but instead of the pain I had feared to see in her eyes, the mirth exploded into laughter. "You would not say that if he were near!"

"Oh, believe me, my lady, he would. He has. Frequently."

I spun. "My king! Forgive me..." I was blushing, and so was she, a delicate pink that stained her cheeks and made her look more beautiful then she already was.

Aragorn laughed. "There is no need, Faramir, I've heard worse. Mostly from the hobbits."

"Ah yes, the hobbits. How are they doing?" The pink was fading from Éowyn's cheeks. I forced myself to breathe again.

A flash of sadness crossed my king's face. "Frodo has gone to the Grey Havens. But Sam is still raising little ones, and Merry and Pippen are being...well, Merry and Pippen."

She laughed again, and I felt a sudden stab of jealousy. I should have been the one to make her laugh...

"Éowyn!"

"I come, I come." She curtsied to both of us and went to join her brother. My chest tightened as I watched her go...I called her, every second I spent with her, I called her to me.

Would she ever come?