Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just play in their world.
I have never seen my sister this happy. Even as a child, plodding through the open plains of Rohan as though she were a horse, she was never this happy. Lord Faramir of the White city has changed her, and I suspect it is a change for the better. She glows like the sun. I have always thought her beauty more sharp and rough then other maids, but today her grace shines like gold, and only one other can compare. Perhaps all maids are this lovely on their wedding day, or perhaps I am just favoring my sister.
Elrond's daughter is the jewel with which every King wishes to garnish his crown. I have never seen such exquisite features, nor do I believe are there maids in legends more fair then the future Queen of Gondor. Surely Aragorn must know what a treasure he possesses. From the way he hovers about her I think it safe to say he does. By my fathers, what a lady.
"Eomer!"
At the sound of my name I turn and see my sister dashing at me with all the emotion I know her capable of. I hold out my arms and she falls into them, red cheeked and bright eyed, her yellow hair flowing down the heavy white wool of her gown. Her smile is larger then I ever thought it could be, and when our eyes meet I see a joy I have not seen since before our parents left this world. I draw her closer and bury my face in her hair. My little sister is married now, and I will soon give her leave to depart the hall of Meduseld forever for the white walls of Ithilian. I can feel the tickle of tears upon my cheek, and though a King I now be, I care not for such brotherly displays of affection.
Though her face is buried in the heavy mantle about my shoulders, she knows me well enough to recognize the slight tense stance of my body, and she looks at my face with eyes clear and sad for me.
"You should not cry, brother. I may be a wife now, but I shall always be a sister to you regardless of distance or time apart."
I smile. My sister knows me better then anyone. Our cousin, Theodred, when he was alive, use to tease my sister and I by saying were it not for my beard and her breasts, he would think us the same person, so alike were we in feeling and demeanor. I suppose now that he was justified in such a statement. Looking at my sister's face at this very moment, I can see we both share her happiness and sadness.
"Aye, little one, and I shall always be a brother on the lookout for his sister's welfare. I am proud of you, Eowyn. Uncle Theoden, and our mother and father look upon you from the hall of Mandos, and blessed you shall be."
She breaks a little bit, and a few errant tears slip from beneath her closed eyes and run down her cheeks. I see coming towards us her husband, content to give us a few precious moments of privacy, lingering on the sidelines of our conversation. Hugging her tightly one more time, I kiss her cheek and brush away her tears. I motion for Faramir, who comes to stand beside us, one of his hands reaching out for Eowyn's and grasping it gently. The simple gesture warms my heart, and I know I can trust my sister to such a man.
I put one hand on his shoulder, and he looks at me fleetingly before bowing his head slightly, indicating my new title and rank.
"My Lord Eomer", he says, his voice clear and light.
"Take good care of this Lady of Rohan, Steward. She means a great deal to the King and his men, and they would be sore pressed to hear of any malcontent she bare."
My words are severe, but carry a tone that speaks levels with the younger man. He smiles at me, and takes my offered hand in a vigorous shake.
"Of course, your majesty. I would have it no other way, even on pain of death."
"Well said, brother-mine." I pat his shoulder, and watch as he embraces my sister. I turn to leave, but before I do, I address him one more time.
"And Faramir...."
"Aye?"
"See to it that you bring her 'round to Edoras from time to time. Not only am I losing my sister to you this day, I also lose my best competition in horse racing."
Eowyn laughs, and I wink at her. Faramir chuckles, and nods his head in agreement before turning to his wife and kissing her.
I turn and venture into the crowds, stopping to speak with several young maids and advisors to Aragorn, when I feel a light pressure on my arm. Excusing myself from the conversation I was presently engaged in, I turn and find my eyes meeting the deep blue spheres of Lady Arwen. So captivated am I, I barely notice the departure of the pretty young thing I was talking to. Before me stands the fairest being I've ever laid eyes upon, and I am speechless.
"How fare you this evening, your Majesty?" Her voice is like soft honey, and it sends a chill down my spine. My tongue feels thick in my mouth, and her use of my title does not hit me at all.
"I am well, Lady Undomiel. I trust you are fine?" I wince at my own blunder. I feel a fool in her presence, so distracting is her beauty, and I find myself wondering just how in bloody hell Aragorn manages to keep his wits about him when she is constantly by his side.
"I am well, thank you. I saw you wandering the crowd and thought perhaps I could convince you to dance with me."
"Dance with you? Surely my lady can find others of more agreeable company to dance with?"
Arwen smiles and points to Gimli standing nearby, who watches in an amused gaze at Arwen's gesture. "Well, I would dance with Gimli, but I fear that instead of stepping on his feet I would simply step on him." The dwarf huffs before smiling and points a finger at the lithe elf. "Watch it lassie. I may be a dwarf, but I could best ye in a waltz."
We laugh, and offering an arm, I escort Elrond's daughter to the pavilion under which lovers and friends glided and turned with dedicated elegance. I am far from a remarkable dancer, so I fear I shall embarrass the elegant elfmaid with my plodding steps. Strangely enough, once her hand is in my mine, and she begins to move to the lively music, it is though I become someone else; someone capable of dancing well.
"You have an unusual effect on me, Lady Arwen. Normally I could not dance to save my own life."
"Perhaps it is the magic of the elfs. Or perhaps the music. Elven choirs are known for their ability to stir the hearts of men and women alike, elf or mortal."
"Perhaps." I rest my eyes upon Arwen's face, and find myself wishing in some small measure that I had been aware of her existence before Aragorn. But then in my mind's eye I see the light in his eyes when he thinks of her, and something inside me wishes to one day have the same light in my own eyes for a woman. The King of Gondor is a lucky man indeed, and maybe someday I too shall find a love such as his.
"Might I inquire, my lady, as to why you are here with me and not with your future husband?"
"Arwen, who has begun humming the song, pauses and smiles before giggling. "He is with my father, being lectured on the responsibilities of marriage and husbandly duties."
I laugh, a loud gaffaw that echoes throughout the courtyard, drawing the stares of several partygoers. "Is King Aragorn in such dire need of advice, then?"
Arwen joins my laughter with her own bell-like chuckles. "No, but I cannot convince my father otherwise." A faraway look melts her eyes, and her beauty and grace pour forth like water in a fountain. "Aragorn loves me, in a way no other has before. In his heart he shall know the right way to be a husband, just as he will know the right way to be a King." The look fades and her face, pale and silver in the evening air, shines. "His people will love him, just as I always have."
I nod at her words, and search for light hearted conversation. "How is marriage between the elves different from our own?" I wait for her answer, and she looks at me with a smile before answering.
"The ceremony itself is long and at times trying, but at the end of the night the end result is just as pleasurable as any mortal wedding."
I stare in shock at the elf princess before once more erupting in peels of laughter. For one born of so noble and old a house, Lady Arwen is free spirited and opinionated, quite like my sister. I think once they get to know each other, they will be great friends.
The music ends and a new song begins. Arwen and I part and I raise her hand to my lips to place a kiss upon her silky skin.
"It has been a pleasure, dear Eomer. Perhaps we might share another dance later?"
I bow. "The pleasure is mine, M'lady. I shall hold you to that next dance, providing Aragorn see fit to let you from his sights again with such a charming man as myself."
Arwen giggles, and covers her full lips with a delicate hand. "Perhaps", she murmurs, and curtseys before fading back into the crowd.
I watch her recede into her own glittering mist, and sigh as I once more survey those around me. Indeed, Faramir and Aragorn both have my envy this night.
I have never seen my sister this happy. Even as a child, plodding through the open plains of Rohan as though she were a horse, she was never this happy. Lord Faramir of the White city has changed her, and I suspect it is a change for the better. She glows like the sun. I have always thought her beauty more sharp and rough then other maids, but today her grace shines like gold, and only one other can compare. Perhaps all maids are this lovely on their wedding day, or perhaps I am just favoring my sister.
Elrond's daughter is the jewel with which every King wishes to garnish his crown. I have never seen such exquisite features, nor do I believe are there maids in legends more fair then the future Queen of Gondor. Surely Aragorn must know what a treasure he possesses. From the way he hovers about her I think it safe to say he does. By my fathers, what a lady.
"Eomer!"
At the sound of my name I turn and see my sister dashing at me with all the emotion I know her capable of. I hold out my arms and she falls into them, red cheeked and bright eyed, her yellow hair flowing down the heavy white wool of her gown. Her smile is larger then I ever thought it could be, and when our eyes meet I see a joy I have not seen since before our parents left this world. I draw her closer and bury my face in her hair. My little sister is married now, and I will soon give her leave to depart the hall of Meduseld forever for the white walls of Ithilian. I can feel the tickle of tears upon my cheek, and though a King I now be, I care not for such brotherly displays of affection.
Though her face is buried in the heavy mantle about my shoulders, she knows me well enough to recognize the slight tense stance of my body, and she looks at my face with eyes clear and sad for me.
"You should not cry, brother. I may be a wife now, but I shall always be a sister to you regardless of distance or time apart."
I smile. My sister knows me better then anyone. Our cousin, Theodred, when he was alive, use to tease my sister and I by saying were it not for my beard and her breasts, he would think us the same person, so alike were we in feeling and demeanor. I suppose now that he was justified in such a statement. Looking at my sister's face at this very moment, I can see we both share her happiness and sadness.
"Aye, little one, and I shall always be a brother on the lookout for his sister's welfare. I am proud of you, Eowyn. Uncle Theoden, and our mother and father look upon you from the hall of Mandos, and blessed you shall be."
She breaks a little bit, and a few errant tears slip from beneath her closed eyes and run down her cheeks. I see coming towards us her husband, content to give us a few precious moments of privacy, lingering on the sidelines of our conversation. Hugging her tightly one more time, I kiss her cheek and brush away her tears. I motion for Faramir, who comes to stand beside us, one of his hands reaching out for Eowyn's and grasping it gently. The simple gesture warms my heart, and I know I can trust my sister to such a man.
I put one hand on his shoulder, and he looks at me fleetingly before bowing his head slightly, indicating my new title and rank.
"My Lord Eomer", he says, his voice clear and light.
"Take good care of this Lady of Rohan, Steward. She means a great deal to the King and his men, and they would be sore pressed to hear of any malcontent she bare."
My words are severe, but carry a tone that speaks levels with the younger man. He smiles at me, and takes my offered hand in a vigorous shake.
"Of course, your majesty. I would have it no other way, even on pain of death."
"Well said, brother-mine." I pat his shoulder, and watch as he embraces my sister. I turn to leave, but before I do, I address him one more time.
"And Faramir...."
"Aye?"
"See to it that you bring her 'round to Edoras from time to time. Not only am I losing my sister to you this day, I also lose my best competition in horse racing."
Eowyn laughs, and I wink at her. Faramir chuckles, and nods his head in agreement before turning to his wife and kissing her.
I turn and venture into the crowds, stopping to speak with several young maids and advisors to Aragorn, when I feel a light pressure on my arm. Excusing myself from the conversation I was presently engaged in, I turn and find my eyes meeting the deep blue spheres of Lady Arwen. So captivated am I, I barely notice the departure of the pretty young thing I was talking to. Before me stands the fairest being I've ever laid eyes upon, and I am speechless.
"How fare you this evening, your Majesty?" Her voice is like soft honey, and it sends a chill down my spine. My tongue feels thick in my mouth, and her use of my title does not hit me at all.
"I am well, Lady Undomiel. I trust you are fine?" I wince at my own blunder. I feel a fool in her presence, so distracting is her beauty, and I find myself wondering just how in bloody hell Aragorn manages to keep his wits about him when she is constantly by his side.
"I am well, thank you. I saw you wandering the crowd and thought perhaps I could convince you to dance with me."
"Dance with you? Surely my lady can find others of more agreeable company to dance with?"
Arwen smiles and points to Gimli standing nearby, who watches in an amused gaze at Arwen's gesture. "Well, I would dance with Gimli, but I fear that instead of stepping on his feet I would simply step on him." The dwarf huffs before smiling and points a finger at the lithe elf. "Watch it lassie. I may be a dwarf, but I could best ye in a waltz."
We laugh, and offering an arm, I escort Elrond's daughter to the pavilion under which lovers and friends glided and turned with dedicated elegance. I am far from a remarkable dancer, so I fear I shall embarrass the elegant elfmaid with my plodding steps. Strangely enough, once her hand is in my mine, and she begins to move to the lively music, it is though I become someone else; someone capable of dancing well.
"You have an unusual effect on me, Lady Arwen. Normally I could not dance to save my own life."
"Perhaps it is the magic of the elfs. Or perhaps the music. Elven choirs are known for their ability to stir the hearts of men and women alike, elf or mortal."
"Perhaps." I rest my eyes upon Arwen's face, and find myself wishing in some small measure that I had been aware of her existence before Aragorn. But then in my mind's eye I see the light in his eyes when he thinks of her, and something inside me wishes to one day have the same light in my own eyes for a woman. The King of Gondor is a lucky man indeed, and maybe someday I too shall find a love such as his.
"Might I inquire, my lady, as to why you are here with me and not with your future husband?"
"Arwen, who has begun humming the song, pauses and smiles before giggling. "He is with my father, being lectured on the responsibilities of marriage and husbandly duties."
I laugh, a loud gaffaw that echoes throughout the courtyard, drawing the stares of several partygoers. "Is King Aragorn in such dire need of advice, then?"
Arwen joins my laughter with her own bell-like chuckles. "No, but I cannot convince my father otherwise." A faraway look melts her eyes, and her beauty and grace pour forth like water in a fountain. "Aragorn loves me, in a way no other has before. In his heart he shall know the right way to be a husband, just as he will know the right way to be a King." The look fades and her face, pale and silver in the evening air, shines. "His people will love him, just as I always have."
I nod at her words, and search for light hearted conversation. "How is marriage between the elves different from our own?" I wait for her answer, and she looks at me with a smile before answering.
"The ceremony itself is long and at times trying, but at the end of the night the end result is just as pleasurable as any mortal wedding."
I stare in shock at the elf princess before once more erupting in peels of laughter. For one born of so noble and old a house, Lady Arwen is free spirited and opinionated, quite like my sister. I think once they get to know each other, they will be great friends.
The music ends and a new song begins. Arwen and I part and I raise her hand to my lips to place a kiss upon her silky skin.
"It has been a pleasure, dear Eomer. Perhaps we might share another dance later?"
I bow. "The pleasure is mine, M'lady. I shall hold you to that next dance, providing Aragorn see fit to let you from his sights again with such a charming man as myself."
Arwen giggles, and covers her full lips with a delicate hand. "Perhaps", she murmurs, and curtseys before fading back into the crowd.
I watch her recede into her own glittering mist, and sigh as I once more survey those around me. Indeed, Faramir and Aragorn both have my envy this night.