White Rose Petals

Disclaimer: "I do not own or claim to own Lord of the Rings or anything related to it" and other disclaimery things.  Starts out with Tolkien's words, not mine.

Raiting: PG

Summary: What was Eowyn thinking when she walked in the gardens of the Houses of Healing after Faramir asked her for her marriage?  Just a short fic about this, and what I thought she would be thinking.  It starts out with only Tolkien's words.

            'Then must I leave my own people, man of Gondor?' she said.  'And would you have your proud folk say of you: "There goes a lord who tamed a wild shield maiden of the North!  Was their no woman of the race of Numenor to choose?"'

                'I would,' said Faramir.  And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls and in the sight of many.  And many indeed saw them and the light that shown on them as they came down from the walls and went hand in hand to the Houses of Healing.

                And to the Warden of the Houses Faramir said: 'Here is the Lady Eowyn of Rohan, and now she is healed.'

                And the Warden said: 'Then I release her from my charge and bid her farewell, and may she suffer never hurt nor sickness again.  I commend her to the care of the Steward of the City, until her brother returns.'

                But Eowyn said: 'Yet now that I have leave to depart, I would remain.  For this house has become to me of all dwellings most blessed.'  And she remained there until King Eomer came.

                Why had she wished to stay?  Why would she purposely separate herself from her new found love?  These questions troubled the mind of the Lady Eowyn as she walked silently, thoughtfully, through the gardens.  Tears flowed freely for the first time in her life, but not tears of despair; tears of unsurpassable joy.  Joy for understanding, understanding her own emotions, understanding more of the man whom she now could love.  Her longing for valor and renown in battle had passed from her, and a new love for the stern, gentle man she would soon marry, as well as a love for all that grew in that garden or in any other.  Such beauty surrounded her in the form of the trees and flowers that resided there, but it could not match the beauty in the eyes of Faramir when he had told her he loved her.  He had asked her "do you not love me?"  In that moment, she had understood the truth.  She understood herself.  She did love him.  The walls of her bower had closed in so tightly that her emotion, and understanding of it, had been stifled.  The only thing that she had felt for years was immense despair.  Ever since the death of her mother she had lost all sense of inner feelings and seemed indifferent to the world. 

                Eowyn had thought, in her emotionless world, that an honorable death was the only way to escape the despair of the world.  But, now, she had found something that healed her in a better way.  Healing had a new name, and it came in the form of love.  The love she did not know she had needed came from Faramir, even though at first she had despised the though that he loved her.  She had felt a pang of fear when he had said, "Once I pitied your sorrow".  She did not wish to know what emotion had replaced his pity.  But, she ended up with, instead of fear, surprising joy.  The joy surrounded and chased away all sense of despair, and understanding had filled her soul.  She no longer wished for honor and renown.  She wished only for the unconditional love of this gentle heart.  She was finally at peace with herself. 

Now, however, in the solitude of this garden, the loneliness came back to her.  Eowyn could hardly bear the wait until her brother returned to her.  She recalled her talk in the garden with the hobbit, Merry.  First, they had just stood on the wall by themselves.  Then, a conversation had begun.

"I owe you an apology," Eowyn said simply.

"What makes you say that, lady?" the hobbit had inquired.  His eyes had looked kind and warm.

"It was I, after all, who brought you into this war," she replied.  "It was for me that your mortal wound was caused.  I who kept you from marching to war with your friends."  Her voice shook with remorse, but she tried to hide it.

"No, lady," Merry had said gently.  "I would have not allowed my self to be left behind, even if you had not brought me here.  I would have walked, or tied myself to one of the horses, rather than be unable to fight for my king.  Nothing could have stopped me from getting here eventually.  You simply made it easier.  As for my wound, it has healed, and it does not bother me anymore."

Eowyn had stared silently at the hobbit as he stared over the wall.  "But what about going to war?  Would you not have wished to fight by your friends' side?"

"Well," Merry laughed, "that part does not bother me so much.  I felt somewhat afraid to fight, even with a friend.  And also, Pippin needs a chance to try to catch up with me."  They both laughed at this, and then had stood in silence once again.

But now, Eowyn had no one else to talk to.  She stood staring over the wall until her brother came for her.

'Yet I will wed with the White Lady of Rohan, if it be her will'.  That was what Faramir had said.  And it was her will, and with her brothers' blessing, she did wed with Faramir.  And the night before the wedding, she lay in her bed to sleep, and realized something amazing: for the first time, she could look forward to tomorrow.