Fare Thee Well
Arwen came from the room and beckoned him. She smelt of death and flowers. Slowly he stood. She took his arm and led him to the room. Eowyn lay now on her bier, clad in a deep midnight blue. Her silver hair cushioned her head, and she clasped a lily in her hands. Her hands were light as paper and veined. He grasped at one as he touched her hair. He bent his head down to touch the edge of the table, and sighed. His breath swelled against his throat.
Arwen placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Do you want me to leave you alone?" He gasped, "Not yet. Please, stay awhile". He straightened himself up, "She is fair is she not". Arwen looked at Éowyn and said, "Yes, she is fair." Stroking Éowyn's cheek he said, "When I first saw her it was like seeing my first sunrise, or the brightest star at night. I had never seen anything so beautiful. I never understood how I came to be so blessed." Arwen nodded silently, "I understand." She bent and kissed Éowyn's brow, "I will leave you now."
She walked almost silently from the room, the faint swish of her skirts giving her movements away. Faramir looked at Éowyn's face once more, "My beautiful wife. You are still so fair. Everything is ready now. You would be amazed how many came. Morwen, and Lalaith, and Elboron. Elfwine and his wife have come. I've never seen Arwen and Aragorn so sorrowful. Legolas and Gimli have come as well, and Merry and Pippin. Merry wept for you. I wish you were here to comfort them, I wish you were here to make it all right. You always did. It was always you who held us together, who taught us to accept our pain. I do not know what to say to make it better."
He paused for a moment, and then continued, "They will plant the simbelmyne in a pot beside you. It was Arwen's idea and I thought you would want some. The people of Ithilien wish to build a statue to remember you. They all love you so much, Éowyn. They need you. I need you". He gathered her in his arms, and he started to weep as he rocked her back and forth, "How can I do without you? How can I live when you are not there to speak with and to touch? How can I live without you my love? I do not see the way. I cannot let you go, you are wrapped around me, you are the best part of me, how can I spend my years in this world without you?" Faramir wept into her hair, clutching her body to him for the last time on this earth. Sobs wracked his shoulders as he held her. He wished he did not have to let her go.
Finally he could let go of her. He kissed her cheek, her eyelids, her nose, and finally her lips. A fresh wave of weeping threatened to engulf him but he held strong against it. He would be strong, he would live, and he would see their great-grandchildren grow - for her. He had promised to survive, not to let the grief break him down. He had never yet broken a promise he made to her. He stood, and went to open the door. He would let the others in to say their goodbyes.
* * *
Arwen stood outside with Éowyn's children. She looked at them with affection - she had known each from the moment they were born. Elboron, who had always been Aragorn's favourite, much like Boromir of Gondor had been - but wiser and less ill fated. Married now to Erendis, Elfhelm's daughter. Morwen - whom Legolas had preferred, saying that the elven blood of her father shone most truly in her. She had married into the family of Lossarnach. And last of all Lalaith. A golden girl, shining in the palace. She had wed Arwen's son, Eldarion and was greatly beloved by all in Gondor. Éomer had claimed that she was much like Éowyn had been before the shadow had fallen on her, and certainly Arwen could see the similarities.
She remembered Lalaith's birth vividly. A few weeks after Faramir and Aragorn had returned from war in Harad, Éowyn had joyfully announced that she was with child. The healers had been unsure if she or the baby would survive the pregnancy - and she herself had had doubts, but she had borne the child.
No day had ever seemed so long to Arwen as the day of Lalaith's birth. She and Aragorn had waited nearly ten hours in the Houses of Healing with Éomer, and she had never seen her husband pace for so long. Though Éowyn was strong, and had recovered much of her health, her old injuries might make the strain of birth too much. Faramir had insisted on being present - which had nearly caused Ioreth to have apoplexy so shocked was she - and as the day drew on he had ceased to send them messages of how things progressed.
Finally a healer arrived and called them into the room. Éowyn lay all but spent on the bed, and Faramir cradled her shoulders. She held a tiny bundle in her arms, and they were both crying. Arwen had come to stand beside them, and had looked at the child. Éowyn allowed Arwen to hold her, and had said, smiling, "Look at her, she is so beautiful, just look." Both parents smiled widely, and yet there was bitter-sweetness to their joy, for this birth brought to mind Mardil, and how he had died. The thought of that poor babe had been in all their minds, until the girl had started to bawl, proving just how alive she was. Éomer had grimaced, and said, "She has your lungs anyway Éowyn."
His sister scowled at him and said, "And how would you know brother dear?" He smirked and said, "Believe me sister I shared a room with you, I remember all too well." Éowyn had smiled at the child in her arms, and Arwen had seen the last lingering pain of Mardil's loss flicker and die in her eyes. Truly Lalaith's birth had been a blessing.
That woman now stood to say goodbye to her mother for the last time. Arwen decided to leave them to their grief, and went in search of Aragorn. She found him in the library, tears coursing down his cheeks as he prepared his funeral oration. She found the simbelmyne she had procured to for Éowyn's grave and went to him. She held his hand. Just before the funeral procession began she felt him bend and say, "Are you all right?" She nodded, but truly she did not know. All she knew was that she could not bear seeing Éowyn's body lowered into the cold ground - to think of the ice that had taken her flesh.
As each speech was given, and Elfwine sang a lament of Rohan, she felt suddenly bereft, as if half herself had been entombed. They could not tell half there was to say about the White Lady, and it cut Arwen deep to think that her true story might be lost to all that followed. As the slab slid across Éowyn's face, Arwen bid her friend a last goodbye.
Arwen came from the room and beckoned him. She smelt of death and flowers. Slowly he stood. She took his arm and led him to the room. Eowyn lay now on her bier, clad in a deep midnight blue. Her silver hair cushioned her head, and she clasped a lily in her hands. Her hands were light as paper and veined. He grasped at one as he touched her hair. He bent his head down to touch the edge of the table, and sighed. His breath swelled against his throat.
Arwen placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Do you want me to leave you alone?" He gasped, "Not yet. Please, stay awhile". He straightened himself up, "She is fair is she not". Arwen looked at Éowyn and said, "Yes, she is fair." Stroking Éowyn's cheek he said, "When I first saw her it was like seeing my first sunrise, or the brightest star at night. I had never seen anything so beautiful. I never understood how I came to be so blessed." Arwen nodded silently, "I understand." She bent and kissed Éowyn's brow, "I will leave you now."
She walked almost silently from the room, the faint swish of her skirts giving her movements away. Faramir looked at Éowyn's face once more, "My beautiful wife. You are still so fair. Everything is ready now. You would be amazed how many came. Morwen, and Lalaith, and Elboron. Elfwine and his wife have come. I've never seen Arwen and Aragorn so sorrowful. Legolas and Gimli have come as well, and Merry and Pippin. Merry wept for you. I wish you were here to comfort them, I wish you were here to make it all right. You always did. It was always you who held us together, who taught us to accept our pain. I do not know what to say to make it better."
He paused for a moment, and then continued, "They will plant the simbelmyne in a pot beside you. It was Arwen's idea and I thought you would want some. The people of Ithilien wish to build a statue to remember you. They all love you so much, Éowyn. They need you. I need you". He gathered her in his arms, and he started to weep as he rocked her back and forth, "How can I do without you? How can I live when you are not there to speak with and to touch? How can I live without you my love? I do not see the way. I cannot let you go, you are wrapped around me, you are the best part of me, how can I spend my years in this world without you?" Faramir wept into her hair, clutching her body to him for the last time on this earth. Sobs wracked his shoulders as he held her. He wished he did not have to let her go.
Finally he could let go of her. He kissed her cheek, her eyelids, her nose, and finally her lips. A fresh wave of weeping threatened to engulf him but he held strong against it. He would be strong, he would live, and he would see their great-grandchildren grow - for her. He had promised to survive, not to let the grief break him down. He had never yet broken a promise he made to her. He stood, and went to open the door. He would let the others in to say their goodbyes.
* * *
Arwen stood outside with Éowyn's children. She looked at them with affection - she had known each from the moment they were born. Elboron, who had always been Aragorn's favourite, much like Boromir of Gondor had been - but wiser and less ill fated. Married now to Erendis, Elfhelm's daughter. Morwen - whom Legolas had preferred, saying that the elven blood of her father shone most truly in her. She had married into the family of Lossarnach. And last of all Lalaith. A golden girl, shining in the palace. She had wed Arwen's son, Eldarion and was greatly beloved by all in Gondor. Éomer had claimed that she was much like Éowyn had been before the shadow had fallen on her, and certainly Arwen could see the similarities.
She remembered Lalaith's birth vividly. A few weeks after Faramir and Aragorn had returned from war in Harad, Éowyn had joyfully announced that she was with child. The healers had been unsure if she or the baby would survive the pregnancy - and she herself had had doubts, but she had borne the child.
No day had ever seemed so long to Arwen as the day of Lalaith's birth. She and Aragorn had waited nearly ten hours in the Houses of Healing with Éomer, and she had never seen her husband pace for so long. Though Éowyn was strong, and had recovered much of her health, her old injuries might make the strain of birth too much. Faramir had insisted on being present - which had nearly caused Ioreth to have apoplexy so shocked was she - and as the day drew on he had ceased to send them messages of how things progressed.
Finally a healer arrived and called them into the room. Éowyn lay all but spent on the bed, and Faramir cradled her shoulders. She held a tiny bundle in her arms, and they were both crying. Arwen had come to stand beside them, and had looked at the child. Éowyn allowed Arwen to hold her, and had said, smiling, "Look at her, she is so beautiful, just look." Both parents smiled widely, and yet there was bitter-sweetness to their joy, for this birth brought to mind Mardil, and how he had died. The thought of that poor babe had been in all their minds, until the girl had started to bawl, proving just how alive she was. Éomer had grimaced, and said, "She has your lungs anyway Éowyn."
His sister scowled at him and said, "And how would you know brother dear?" He smirked and said, "Believe me sister I shared a room with you, I remember all too well." Éowyn had smiled at the child in her arms, and Arwen had seen the last lingering pain of Mardil's loss flicker and die in her eyes. Truly Lalaith's birth had been a blessing.
That woman now stood to say goodbye to her mother for the last time. Arwen decided to leave them to their grief, and went in search of Aragorn. She found him in the library, tears coursing down his cheeks as he prepared his funeral oration. She found the simbelmyne she had procured to for Éowyn's grave and went to him. She held his hand. Just before the funeral procession began she felt him bend and say, "Are you all right?" She nodded, but truly she did not know. All she knew was that she could not bear seeing Éowyn's body lowered into the cold ground - to think of the ice that had taken her flesh.
As each speech was given, and Elfwine sang a lament of Rohan, she felt suddenly bereft, as if half herself had been entombed. They could not tell half there was to say about the White Lady, and it cut Arwen deep to think that her true story might be lost to all that followed. As the slab slid across Éowyn's face, Arwen bid her friend a last goodbye.