Disclaimer: Characters herewithin do not belong to me, but to the mack daddy of Middle Earth, Tolkien.
Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for reviewing so kindly. I get tickled pink when I hear people enjoy reading my stories;) I wanted to say something about the medicine that Aragorn used to help Éowyn in the last chapter, because there was some interest raised about it. There are herbs such as pennyroyal and blue cohosh which can induce abortions. If used in small amounts, they can also contract the uterus and stop it from bleeding. But there is a danger of sterility. So I would highly recommend you never try this at home! More author's notes to follow. For now, enjoy the story!
****
A Love Beyond All Fear
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"Mother!"
In the middle of making a perfect stitch in the tiny gown she was sewing, Éowyn glanced up, hearing her oldest child call for her. "Elboron!" She dropped her sewing into her chair, gathered her skirts, and ran down the stone steps as fast as she could. She had allowed her children out of her sight, and in retrospect it seemed like a wrong decision, especially on the sloping hills upon which their house sat, where any manner of calamity might have befallen them.
She found her brood at the entrance to the stables after a short search, and breathed an instant sigh of relief to see that all three were unhurt. "What is it? What is the matter?"
At nearly seven years old, her son was a miniature copy of her husband with the hotheadedness of her brother. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, scowling down at his little sister. "Awen was trying to pet the horses again, Mother."
The little girl looked up at Éowyn, fat tears collecting in the corners of her grey-blue eyes. "Wanna pet pretty horses," Edoawen pleaded.
"You cannot!" Elboron told her. "You are just a baby. And a girl!"
"Not a baby!" Her pink lower lip protruded as far as it would go.
Éowyn sighed and took a quick glance at Edoawen's twin. Elioclya crouched in the grass, plucking a few stray wildflowers that grew at the corner of the stables and singing a little, incoherent song to herself. The only physical difference between the two girls was the state of their matching dresses. While Elioclya's was in the exact same condition it had been when Éowyn put it on her that morning, Edoawen's was streaked with dirt and grass stains.
"Edoawen," Éowyn began. "You know that the horses can be very dangerous." She walked to the child and picked her up, surprised at the effort it took to do so. "Oh, you are growing heavy, child." She promptly set her back onto her feet.
"Not a baby," her daughter repeated, smiling to reveal her short rows of pearly teeth.
"But you are still a little girl," she reminded her. Elboron smirked, triumphant. "'Little' bearing far more importance in this lesson than 'girl'." The boy looked down, properly chastised. Edoawen shook her head, tangled blond curls tumbling about her face; she was too young to understand her mother's words. "Do not go into the stables without myself or your…" Éowyn clarified for the two and a half year-old before she was cut off by Elioclya's cry.
"Papa!" With a chubby handful of flowers, the more lady-like of the twins stood up as Faramir approached the stables on his horse, flanked by a single guard.
He stopped the animal and dismounted. "See to him," he asked the guard, handing over the reigns. Pulling off his riding gloves, Faramir held out his arms to his youngest child. She ran for him, throwing her own arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground.
"Missed Papa," Elioclya murmured into his shoulder.
"And I missed my Clya," he told her. Transferring her to one side, Faramir bent down and scooped up her twin around her little waist. "And my Awen." She laughed, delighted.
"And me, Father?"
He was just able to keep hold of the twins and extend a hand to ruffle his son's head of dark curls. "Ever so much," Faramir assured the boy. "Your company on the journey to the White City would have been most welcome." Elboron rubbed his arm across his nose to hide the blush that spread on his face.
Éowyn propped her hands up on her shapely hips. "And what of I, my lord?"
He gave her look over Elioclya's head that told her everything she needed to know. Her heart missed at least one beat before Faramir replied, "My lady knows how I cannot sleep with an entire blanket all to myself. I hardly know what to do without a bedmate stealing every inch of it but the quarter she deigns to give me."
His wife's eyes grew wide with indignation. "Why you…!" She stopped when Faramir began to laugh and all three of their children joined in, emulating him even if they did not understand the joke. Their sweet giggles combined with her husband's baritone chuckles doused the spark of her temper. "Fine, then. A quarter's covering is all you shall ever have. I swear it."
"Ah, love." Faramir set down the twins and strode over to her, his coarse cloak billowing in the breeze. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close for a welcoming kiss. "Forgive this weary traveler?"
Her chin tipped up haughtily. "I suppose I might find it within myself to…on one condition."
"Name it and I shall obey."
Éowyn smiled at him with sugary sweetness. "You be the one to tell Edoawen that she must bathe before supper."
Faramir glanced at his elder daughter. At least, it looked like his elder daughter, although it was hard to tell through the layers of dirt. She was kneeling in the grass, watching her brother as he picked up a wriggling earthworm. Where Elioclya withdrew from the creature as though it was poisonous, Edoawen held out her hands for it. "How does she manage to do it?"
"It is a mystery, my lord. All manners of dust and grime seem to be attracted to her."
"Would it not be easier to simply never let her out of doors again?"
Éowyn smothered a laugh. "It would prove simpler to keep the sun from shining, I fear."
"Very well then." Faramir walked back to his children. Elboron quickly took the worm from his sister, worried that he might get into trouble for letting her play with it. But his father did not seem to notice, or if he did, did not care. "Are any of my little hobbits hungry?"
"I am, Father," Elboron replied.
"Me too, me too!" Edoawen echoed the sentiment. Elioclya nodded her head as properly as any well-bred noblewoman.
"Then it shall be baths all around and supper to follow!" he announced.
Edoawen shrieked. 'No' had been her first word, but 'bath' had quickly followed. Faramir caught her as she tried to run away and lifted her up, kicking and squirming. "Papa, no bath!!"
"Do you not want to look like the lady you are?" he asked her.
"No!!"
Faramir rephrased the question, hoping to reason with her. "Do you wish to stay dirty?"
"Yes!!"
He threw a pleading look at his wife as she reached down for Elioclya's little hand. Éowyn lifted her shoulders and merely said, "Come on, Elboron. And do not even think about taking that worm inside the house." The boy dropped it with much reluctance.
With reason having failed, and without any help from the mother of his children, Faramir heaved a sigh and readjusted his hold upon his daughter. He hated having to discipline, still carrying the painful brand of his own father's authority, but being a parent was not all games and laughter, as he had been forced to learn.
"Edoawen," he said, lowering his voice to get the message across. "Be still. You will have your bath without protest." She pouted, but fought no more.
The Prince, his White Lady, their son who was quite tall for his age, and their two identical daughters made quite a picture walking up the winding path to the imperial residence. When they reached the stone steps that led into the house, Éowyn ushered the children into the hands of their nursemaid. Even Edoawen went without complaint.
She snuck a look at her husband once the children were gone. "If you think she will hold this incident against you, I assure you that she will have forgotten it by night fall."
"I do not want my children to fear me."
Éowyn approached him and cupped his unshaven face in her delicate palm. "They adore you, my love. But moreover, they respect you and it is not out of fear." He lowered his eyes. She continued with a softly spoken, "You are not your father."
Faramir looked back up at her. "With every year that passes, I worry more that I might stumble into the same path he took."
"I will not let you." Éowyn brushed a kiss across his mouth. "Not that I fear you ever would."
"My Éowyn," he whispered, returning the kiss with twice the intensity. "It has been but a week since I departed, yet somehow I almost managed to forget your scent." He embraced her, breathing deeply. "Rosewater and wild honey. I could inhale you forever."
She hid a smile by wrinkling up her nose. "I only wish I might say the same of you, my lord. Despite the predisposition of my birth, I care only for the scent of horses on the beasts themselves."
"Is this my lady's quaint way of telling me that I ought to follow the children's example and bathe?"
"It is," she assured him.
"Then she shall have her way." With a final kiss, Faramir walked into the house, undoing the ties of his cape as he went.
Éowyn stopped only long enough to retrieve her abandoned sewing. The cloth was infinitely soft; she rubbed the edge of it against her cheek, smiling to herself before continuing into the house to oversee final preparations on supper.
****
The sun had been long set in the far-off west when Faramir settled down in front of the fire with the twins on his lap and Elboron seated on his left. It was their nightly ritual, with Faramir reading the book that sat in front of them, Elboron turning the pages, and the girls making occasional comments, but invariably nodding off on their father's shoulders before the story was finished.
Éowyn sat a few feet away, continuing with her sewing as she listened to her husband's voice. That night it was a collection of Shire tales, sent to their family as a gift from their Halfling friend, Merry, on the fifth anniversary of Elboron's birth. She was just putting in a final stitch when Faramir said to their son, "Close the book; your sisters are quite asleep."
He did as he was asked. "Are there really such people as Hobbits, Father?"
"Of course!" Faramir paused for a second. "I suppose you are too young to remember the only time our Shire friends were able to visit us. Perhaps we ought to arrange another gathering. It is good to know and appreciate the differences in all the races who share our lands."
"I know of the Elves. Queen Arwen is one, is she not?"
"That she is."
"And Eldarion is half-Elf," Elboron continued, referring to his oft-times playmate. "He tells me so all the time."
Faramir nodded, trying not to smile at this. "Elves take quite a bit of pride in being Elves. But there is much to be proud of in being a Man. Or a Hobbit. Or a Dwarf, for that matter."
The boy leaned closer to his father. "I understand, Father." He yawned and closed his eyes, resting the side of his head on Faramir's arm.
Éowyn broke her thread with her teeth and stood up. "I believe it is past the time children ought to be in bed."
It did not take long to put the three youngsters down for the night. Elboron was the easiest, having requested just that summer that he be allowed to put himself to bed. Éowyn had nearly cried when he asked; her oldest, her first baby, seemed to be growing up too quickly for her liking.
In the girls' chamber, Faramir tucked Edoawen in her bassinet while Éowyn did the same with Elioclya. They would be graduating to matching beds soon, a consideration that also prompted mother's tears. A single thought kept them at bay, the knowledge that she carried, but had yet to share.
Faramir stepped back and stared at his daughters, ever disbelieving that he could have taken part in creating such perfection. "I would have them remain this age forever, if I did not desire so strongly to see them grow into the young ladies I know they will be."
"Even our Awen?" she asked, mischievously.
"I know well of a young woman who preferred weapons and war to dresses and dances, and she has proven her worth as a lady a million times over."
"I should like to meet this paragon of feminine virtue," Éowyn replied, brushing back Elioclya's curls from her forehead.
Faramir came up behind her. "I shall fetch you a looking glass, then." He snaked his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "The bedchambers of Minas Tirith are grandly prepared for their guests, but cold when one does not have someone with whom to share them. Have I been missed in our bed, as well?"
"You have." She turned around and they kissed, slowly and deeply. "I cannot sleep with an entire blanket to myself, either."
"I find that hard to believe, my lady."
Éowyn shook her head. "I am just happy that you are home." She kissed him again before laying her cheek against his collar with a worried sigh that she could not hold in.
"What is it, love?" His fingers stroked the back of her neck. "What troubles you?"
"I have something I must tell you. And while I hope that it will gladden you as much as it does me, I fear that it might not." She pulled back in order to watch his handsome face as she broke the news. "I am with child."
In the moments that followed, her husband seemed caught between utter delight and frozen dread. "But…it is not possible…is it? Éowyn? What of the King's…"
"He is a man, and as subject to the making of mistakes as any one of us."
Faramir stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, his usual motion when considering something important. "But the medicine he used to save your life after the twins were born…it has stopped your woman's flow…"
"On occasion, my lord, but it still comes most moons of the year." She moved towards him. "But it has not for the past four. And I have felt ill of late, and I have had need to loosen the waists of my gowns. I said nothing, waiting until I knew for certain that I was not merely putting on excess weight." Éowyn paused. "Just this morning, though, I felt it move within me." She caught his eye. "I carry another child, Faramir. Another of your sons or daughters." A lengthy silence passed. "It does not please you then?"
He drew in a breath. "Honestly, my lady, it makes me quite scared."
She swallowed. It was not the reply she had hoped for. "Scared, my lord? But…it was our shared hope. That we might produce a small army of our own. That the halls of this house would never cease to echo with children's laughter." She looked away. "I have borne the sorrow as well as the shame of being unable to give you this. And now that I finally can, it is no longer what you want?"
"Do not place words into my mouth, Éowyn," he said. Reaching out, his large hands covered her belly. There was a defined roundness there that he supposed he should have noticed earlier, but had not. "I want this child. I already feel myself loving it. What I fear is what you will endure to give it life."
"It already has life," she corrected him. "All I will do is push it into the world."
"And the last time you took on that strenuous task, it nearly cost you your life! I swore I would not put you in this position again, Éowyn!"
"Then you ought not to have exercised your right as a husband over my body," she snapped back, tears smarting her eyes with their heat. She had to get away from the power his eyes held over her. Turning her back on him, Éowyn walked back to the two bassinets where their daughters slept, peaceful and unaware of any strife.
"My lady." A wave of guilt washed over him as her slender shoulders shook. "I fear to lose you."
"I fear, as well. Each time you ride away from me and every moment until your return, a small part of my heart lives in fear." She turned back around to face him. "But we swore we would not let fear rule our lives anymore, did we not?"
Faramir nodded slightly. "We did."
She wiped at her cheeks. "I take on this fear. I face it. Because it is worth it, my love. It is worth everything to me. This child…" Caressing her belly, Éowyn continued, "Having your children is worth any amount of fear or pain. It is even worth dying for."
"Next to you, I feel like a virgin soldier on the eve of his first battle." He walked to her. "How is it that such a small frame can contain such boundless spirit?" Taking her into his arms, Faramir felt his fear began to dissipate. It was slowly replaced without mounting joy and the excitement that had come twice before when he learned he was to be father to one more child. Or two. "This makes me happy," he whispered into her hair. "Ever so happy."
"Truly?" She looked up at him, her eyes wet with leftover tears.
"Truly. Forgive me my momentary lack of faith?"
"Oh, my love." Éowyn wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest. "I would forgive you if you plunged a knife into my breast."
They held each other for a long time. The only sound around them was the soft breathing of their beloved daughters. "With this revelation, the news from Minas Tirith is far easier to convey to you."
"And what is that?"
"The Queen is four moons gone with another child, as well."
Éowyn smiled and tucked herself deeper into his arms. "I will write to wish her much joy…and to ask for the same in return." She twisted the cloth of his tunic around her fingers. "The hour grows late. Shall we retire for the night?"
Catching the implication in her words, Faramir hesitated. "Ought we, lady? Perhaps it was my inability to restrain myself from…what did you call it…taking my rights as a husband last time that made for such a difficult birth?"
"I would say it was far more likely that it is the reason I bore two babes in the place of the usual one." Éowyn drew his lips down to hers for a long kiss. "Do not make our bed a cold place for the next five months. I will even promise to give you half of our blanket."
"Do I have your word on that?"
"Whatever you desire." She barely managed to keep in a girlish scream when he swept her up into his arms. "And what is it that you desire, my lord?"
Faramir shook his head. "Nothing. Everything that a man could desire, I already have. And it seems…" He carried her out of the nursery and started up the stone flight of stairs. "Things shall only get better, my lady."
****
The End
Or is it? I have this insane desire to write stories for the children, but I don't know if anyone would be interested in reading them. Let me know your opinion if you have one either way;) And thanks for reading my story. I really appreciate it!
Kristen Elizabeth
Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for reviewing so kindly. I get tickled pink when I hear people enjoy reading my stories;) I wanted to say something about the medicine that Aragorn used to help Éowyn in the last chapter, because there was some interest raised about it. There are herbs such as pennyroyal and blue cohosh which can induce abortions. If used in small amounts, they can also contract the uterus and stop it from bleeding. But there is a danger of sterility. So I would highly recommend you never try this at home! More author's notes to follow. For now, enjoy the story!
****
A Love Beyond All Fear
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"Mother!"
In the middle of making a perfect stitch in the tiny gown she was sewing, Éowyn glanced up, hearing her oldest child call for her. "Elboron!" She dropped her sewing into her chair, gathered her skirts, and ran down the stone steps as fast as she could. She had allowed her children out of her sight, and in retrospect it seemed like a wrong decision, especially on the sloping hills upon which their house sat, where any manner of calamity might have befallen them.
She found her brood at the entrance to the stables after a short search, and breathed an instant sigh of relief to see that all three were unhurt. "What is it? What is the matter?"
At nearly seven years old, her son was a miniature copy of her husband with the hotheadedness of her brother. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, scowling down at his little sister. "Awen was trying to pet the horses again, Mother."
The little girl looked up at Éowyn, fat tears collecting in the corners of her grey-blue eyes. "Wanna pet pretty horses," Edoawen pleaded.
"You cannot!" Elboron told her. "You are just a baby. And a girl!"
"Not a baby!" Her pink lower lip protruded as far as it would go.
Éowyn sighed and took a quick glance at Edoawen's twin. Elioclya crouched in the grass, plucking a few stray wildflowers that grew at the corner of the stables and singing a little, incoherent song to herself. The only physical difference between the two girls was the state of their matching dresses. While Elioclya's was in the exact same condition it had been when Éowyn put it on her that morning, Edoawen's was streaked with dirt and grass stains.
"Edoawen," Éowyn began. "You know that the horses can be very dangerous." She walked to the child and picked her up, surprised at the effort it took to do so. "Oh, you are growing heavy, child." She promptly set her back onto her feet.
"Not a baby," her daughter repeated, smiling to reveal her short rows of pearly teeth.
"But you are still a little girl," she reminded her. Elboron smirked, triumphant. "'Little' bearing far more importance in this lesson than 'girl'." The boy looked down, properly chastised. Edoawen shook her head, tangled blond curls tumbling about her face; she was too young to understand her mother's words. "Do not go into the stables without myself or your…" Éowyn clarified for the two and a half year-old before she was cut off by Elioclya's cry.
"Papa!" With a chubby handful of flowers, the more lady-like of the twins stood up as Faramir approached the stables on his horse, flanked by a single guard.
He stopped the animal and dismounted. "See to him," he asked the guard, handing over the reigns. Pulling off his riding gloves, Faramir held out his arms to his youngest child. She ran for him, throwing her own arms around his neck as he lifted her off the ground.
"Missed Papa," Elioclya murmured into his shoulder.
"And I missed my Clya," he told her. Transferring her to one side, Faramir bent down and scooped up her twin around her little waist. "And my Awen." She laughed, delighted.
"And me, Father?"
He was just able to keep hold of the twins and extend a hand to ruffle his son's head of dark curls. "Ever so much," Faramir assured the boy. "Your company on the journey to the White City would have been most welcome." Elboron rubbed his arm across his nose to hide the blush that spread on his face.
Éowyn propped her hands up on her shapely hips. "And what of I, my lord?"
He gave her look over Elioclya's head that told her everything she needed to know. Her heart missed at least one beat before Faramir replied, "My lady knows how I cannot sleep with an entire blanket all to myself. I hardly know what to do without a bedmate stealing every inch of it but the quarter she deigns to give me."
His wife's eyes grew wide with indignation. "Why you…!" She stopped when Faramir began to laugh and all three of their children joined in, emulating him even if they did not understand the joke. Their sweet giggles combined with her husband's baritone chuckles doused the spark of her temper. "Fine, then. A quarter's covering is all you shall ever have. I swear it."
"Ah, love." Faramir set down the twins and strode over to her, his coarse cloak billowing in the breeze. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close for a welcoming kiss. "Forgive this weary traveler?"
Her chin tipped up haughtily. "I suppose I might find it within myself to…on one condition."
"Name it and I shall obey."
Éowyn smiled at him with sugary sweetness. "You be the one to tell Edoawen that she must bathe before supper."
Faramir glanced at his elder daughter. At least, it looked like his elder daughter, although it was hard to tell through the layers of dirt. She was kneeling in the grass, watching her brother as he picked up a wriggling earthworm. Where Elioclya withdrew from the creature as though it was poisonous, Edoawen held out her hands for it. "How does she manage to do it?"
"It is a mystery, my lord. All manners of dust and grime seem to be attracted to her."
"Would it not be easier to simply never let her out of doors again?"
Éowyn smothered a laugh. "It would prove simpler to keep the sun from shining, I fear."
"Very well then." Faramir walked back to his children. Elboron quickly took the worm from his sister, worried that he might get into trouble for letting her play with it. But his father did not seem to notice, or if he did, did not care. "Are any of my little hobbits hungry?"
"I am, Father," Elboron replied.
"Me too, me too!" Edoawen echoed the sentiment. Elioclya nodded her head as properly as any well-bred noblewoman.
"Then it shall be baths all around and supper to follow!" he announced.
Edoawen shrieked. 'No' had been her first word, but 'bath' had quickly followed. Faramir caught her as she tried to run away and lifted her up, kicking and squirming. "Papa, no bath!!"
"Do you not want to look like the lady you are?" he asked her.
"No!!"
Faramir rephrased the question, hoping to reason with her. "Do you wish to stay dirty?"
"Yes!!"
He threw a pleading look at his wife as she reached down for Elioclya's little hand. Éowyn lifted her shoulders and merely said, "Come on, Elboron. And do not even think about taking that worm inside the house." The boy dropped it with much reluctance.
With reason having failed, and without any help from the mother of his children, Faramir heaved a sigh and readjusted his hold upon his daughter. He hated having to discipline, still carrying the painful brand of his own father's authority, but being a parent was not all games and laughter, as he had been forced to learn.
"Edoawen," he said, lowering his voice to get the message across. "Be still. You will have your bath without protest." She pouted, but fought no more.
The Prince, his White Lady, their son who was quite tall for his age, and their two identical daughters made quite a picture walking up the winding path to the imperial residence. When they reached the stone steps that led into the house, Éowyn ushered the children into the hands of their nursemaid. Even Edoawen went without complaint.
She snuck a look at her husband once the children were gone. "If you think she will hold this incident against you, I assure you that she will have forgotten it by night fall."
"I do not want my children to fear me."
Éowyn approached him and cupped his unshaven face in her delicate palm. "They adore you, my love. But moreover, they respect you and it is not out of fear." He lowered his eyes. She continued with a softly spoken, "You are not your father."
Faramir looked back up at her. "With every year that passes, I worry more that I might stumble into the same path he took."
"I will not let you." Éowyn brushed a kiss across his mouth. "Not that I fear you ever would."
"My Éowyn," he whispered, returning the kiss with twice the intensity. "It has been but a week since I departed, yet somehow I almost managed to forget your scent." He embraced her, breathing deeply. "Rosewater and wild honey. I could inhale you forever."
She hid a smile by wrinkling up her nose. "I only wish I might say the same of you, my lord. Despite the predisposition of my birth, I care only for the scent of horses on the beasts themselves."
"Is this my lady's quaint way of telling me that I ought to follow the children's example and bathe?"
"It is," she assured him.
"Then she shall have her way." With a final kiss, Faramir walked into the house, undoing the ties of his cape as he went.
Éowyn stopped only long enough to retrieve her abandoned sewing. The cloth was infinitely soft; she rubbed the edge of it against her cheek, smiling to herself before continuing into the house to oversee final preparations on supper.
****
The sun had been long set in the far-off west when Faramir settled down in front of the fire with the twins on his lap and Elboron seated on his left. It was their nightly ritual, with Faramir reading the book that sat in front of them, Elboron turning the pages, and the girls making occasional comments, but invariably nodding off on their father's shoulders before the story was finished.
Éowyn sat a few feet away, continuing with her sewing as she listened to her husband's voice. That night it was a collection of Shire tales, sent to their family as a gift from their Halfling friend, Merry, on the fifth anniversary of Elboron's birth. She was just putting in a final stitch when Faramir said to their son, "Close the book; your sisters are quite asleep."
He did as he was asked. "Are there really such people as Hobbits, Father?"
"Of course!" Faramir paused for a second. "I suppose you are too young to remember the only time our Shire friends were able to visit us. Perhaps we ought to arrange another gathering. It is good to know and appreciate the differences in all the races who share our lands."
"I know of the Elves. Queen Arwen is one, is she not?"
"That she is."
"And Eldarion is half-Elf," Elboron continued, referring to his oft-times playmate. "He tells me so all the time."
Faramir nodded, trying not to smile at this. "Elves take quite a bit of pride in being Elves. But there is much to be proud of in being a Man. Or a Hobbit. Or a Dwarf, for that matter."
The boy leaned closer to his father. "I understand, Father." He yawned and closed his eyes, resting the side of his head on Faramir's arm.
Éowyn broke her thread with her teeth and stood up. "I believe it is past the time children ought to be in bed."
It did not take long to put the three youngsters down for the night. Elboron was the easiest, having requested just that summer that he be allowed to put himself to bed. Éowyn had nearly cried when he asked; her oldest, her first baby, seemed to be growing up too quickly for her liking.
In the girls' chamber, Faramir tucked Edoawen in her bassinet while Éowyn did the same with Elioclya. They would be graduating to matching beds soon, a consideration that also prompted mother's tears. A single thought kept them at bay, the knowledge that she carried, but had yet to share.
Faramir stepped back and stared at his daughters, ever disbelieving that he could have taken part in creating such perfection. "I would have them remain this age forever, if I did not desire so strongly to see them grow into the young ladies I know they will be."
"Even our Awen?" she asked, mischievously.
"I know well of a young woman who preferred weapons and war to dresses and dances, and she has proven her worth as a lady a million times over."
"I should like to meet this paragon of feminine virtue," Éowyn replied, brushing back Elioclya's curls from her forehead.
Faramir came up behind her. "I shall fetch you a looking glass, then." He snaked his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "The bedchambers of Minas Tirith are grandly prepared for their guests, but cold when one does not have someone with whom to share them. Have I been missed in our bed, as well?"
"You have." She turned around and they kissed, slowly and deeply. "I cannot sleep with an entire blanket to myself, either."
"I find that hard to believe, my lady."
Éowyn shook her head. "I am just happy that you are home." She kissed him again before laying her cheek against his collar with a worried sigh that she could not hold in.
"What is it, love?" His fingers stroked the back of her neck. "What troubles you?"
"I have something I must tell you. And while I hope that it will gladden you as much as it does me, I fear that it might not." She pulled back in order to watch his handsome face as she broke the news. "I am with child."
In the moments that followed, her husband seemed caught between utter delight and frozen dread. "But…it is not possible…is it? Éowyn? What of the King's…"
"He is a man, and as subject to the making of mistakes as any one of us."
Faramir stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, his usual motion when considering something important. "But the medicine he used to save your life after the twins were born…it has stopped your woman's flow…"
"On occasion, my lord, but it still comes most moons of the year." She moved towards him. "But it has not for the past four. And I have felt ill of late, and I have had need to loosen the waists of my gowns. I said nothing, waiting until I knew for certain that I was not merely putting on excess weight." Éowyn paused. "Just this morning, though, I felt it move within me." She caught his eye. "I carry another child, Faramir. Another of your sons or daughters." A lengthy silence passed. "It does not please you then?"
He drew in a breath. "Honestly, my lady, it makes me quite scared."
She swallowed. It was not the reply she had hoped for. "Scared, my lord? But…it was our shared hope. That we might produce a small army of our own. That the halls of this house would never cease to echo with children's laughter." She looked away. "I have borne the sorrow as well as the shame of being unable to give you this. And now that I finally can, it is no longer what you want?"
"Do not place words into my mouth, Éowyn," he said. Reaching out, his large hands covered her belly. There was a defined roundness there that he supposed he should have noticed earlier, but had not. "I want this child. I already feel myself loving it. What I fear is what you will endure to give it life."
"It already has life," she corrected him. "All I will do is push it into the world."
"And the last time you took on that strenuous task, it nearly cost you your life! I swore I would not put you in this position again, Éowyn!"
"Then you ought not to have exercised your right as a husband over my body," she snapped back, tears smarting her eyes with their heat. She had to get away from the power his eyes held over her. Turning her back on him, Éowyn walked back to the two bassinets where their daughters slept, peaceful and unaware of any strife.
"My lady." A wave of guilt washed over him as her slender shoulders shook. "I fear to lose you."
"I fear, as well. Each time you ride away from me and every moment until your return, a small part of my heart lives in fear." She turned back around to face him. "But we swore we would not let fear rule our lives anymore, did we not?"
Faramir nodded slightly. "We did."
She wiped at her cheeks. "I take on this fear. I face it. Because it is worth it, my love. It is worth everything to me. This child…" Caressing her belly, Éowyn continued, "Having your children is worth any amount of fear or pain. It is even worth dying for."
"Next to you, I feel like a virgin soldier on the eve of his first battle." He walked to her. "How is it that such a small frame can contain such boundless spirit?" Taking her into his arms, Faramir felt his fear began to dissipate. It was slowly replaced without mounting joy and the excitement that had come twice before when he learned he was to be father to one more child. Or two. "This makes me happy," he whispered into her hair. "Ever so happy."
"Truly?" She looked up at him, her eyes wet with leftover tears.
"Truly. Forgive me my momentary lack of faith?"
"Oh, my love." Éowyn wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest. "I would forgive you if you plunged a knife into my breast."
They held each other for a long time. The only sound around them was the soft breathing of their beloved daughters. "With this revelation, the news from Minas Tirith is far easier to convey to you."
"And what is that?"
"The Queen is four moons gone with another child, as well."
Éowyn smiled and tucked herself deeper into his arms. "I will write to wish her much joy…and to ask for the same in return." She twisted the cloth of his tunic around her fingers. "The hour grows late. Shall we retire for the night?"
Catching the implication in her words, Faramir hesitated. "Ought we, lady? Perhaps it was my inability to restrain myself from…what did you call it…taking my rights as a husband last time that made for such a difficult birth?"
"I would say it was far more likely that it is the reason I bore two babes in the place of the usual one." Éowyn drew his lips down to hers for a long kiss. "Do not make our bed a cold place for the next five months. I will even promise to give you half of our blanket."
"Do I have your word on that?"
"Whatever you desire." She barely managed to keep in a girlish scream when he swept her up into his arms. "And what is it that you desire, my lord?"
Faramir shook his head. "Nothing. Everything that a man could desire, I already have. And it seems…" He carried her out of the nursery and started up the stone flight of stairs. "Things shall only get better, my lady."
****
The End
Or is it? I have this insane desire to write stories for the children, but I don't know if anyone would be interested in reading them. Let me know your opinion if you have one either way;) And thanks for reading my story. I really appreciate it!
Kristen Elizabeth
