~@-/Pains in the Heart\-@~
I don't own Middle-earth or the people in it. You don't *seriously* need a disclaimer by now? Not that you read them. I could be calling the load of you S-O-Bs and you wouldn't know the difference. (I'm not calling you S-O- Bs by the way.) Just read the story. Read the fruit of my fingers. Don't waste time on the disclaimer. ... You just don't get the hint, do you?
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Don't flame me!
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Mousie2: Remember that Éomund (in battle) and Théodwyn (sickness) died when Éomer and Éowyn were very small. And also that Théodred was much older - I think he was 24 when Théoden adopted them. Otherwise, thanks for the advice - it just seems to come out a rush sometimes.
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Where's the rest o' yeh? Read! And, moreover, review! This is a short one.
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--+-- Aragorn's Chambers --+--
He sat bolt upright. There it was again - a knock on the door. "Aragorn?" Éomer's commanding tones. "Are you in there?"
"Yes," it was almost a groan. How long had he been asleep? "Come in."
The door opened. "What happened to Éowyn?" said Éomer. "Is she all right?"
"Yes," said Aragorn firmly, finally assured. "She is taking a bath." He glanced out the window: it was barely an hour after dawn. He had not slept long.
"You should both get some rest," Éomer advised. "The City can do without you for a few hours."
"Thank you, Éomer. I promised Éowyn I would come back to check on her," said Aragorn. He wanted to laugh as Éomer's eyebrows twitched.
"She's bathing, you say?" he stammered. It seemed to Éomer that his heart whimpered. The marriage of his friend to his sister had greater implications that he had initially thought of. She would be expected to produce his heir... Éomer suddenly felt very sheepish, as he had not done in a long time.
"She should be done by now," smiled Aragorn sleepily, as though he guessed Éomer's thoughts. "But I will give her a few more minutes, I think."
"It is a good thing that I came to you first, then," said Éomer with a flickering smile. "I had best take my own advice. A fine state your city is in! All of its nobles lie in sloth while the day whirls on!"
"Such has been the way of the world for many years," said Aragorn, but this time he did not smile. "But we, at least, have good reason."
"Indeed," Éomer agreed. He had not known Aragorn very long, and was still unaccustomed to his sudden switches in mood. But he was more than willing to overlook small shortcomings if Aragorn could lift the frost that had lain too long on his sister.
--+-- Éowyn's Chambers --+--
Éowyn watched the servant go, and slipped deeper into the water, wondering how the towels were made so fluffy. The Rohirrim preferred to drip-dry, or at most dab themselves dry with a linen cloth. A long nightgown, of white satin, was folded neatly on the table. She heard the click of hangers in the wardrobe: Aragorn had sent up something else.
The bathwater was turning cold. Éowyn reluctantly slithered out of the bath and quickly wrapped the towel around herself. She stood thus, creating a small pool around her toes while the towel lent her warmth. At last, she shed the towel and shivered as the cold satin slipped over her skin. She proceeded to fold the towel neatly; then she went into the main bedroom and opened the wardrobe. She gasped.
A stunning dress of black velvet hung there. The white tree flowered across the torso and the short sleeves ended in delicate lace. Upon each sleeve were embroidered seven silver stars. The skirt was slim, running down to the ankles, shot with silver.
And beside it, a white silk dress, plain but for the slightly puffed sleeves and gentle slope of the skirt. It was a gown made for gliding. Wrapped around the waist was a silver belt studded with diamonds. Over the shoulders was draped a black mantle: more silver stars twinkled on the hem.
Sitting on the bedside table were two clasps for her hair, one white, one black; there was another clasp for the black mantle. It was silver, and in the shape of a swan spreading its wings. The swan's onyx eyes gleamed in the dawn and in its breast shone a bright white crystal, like adamant but whiter. Éowyn wanted to try it all on, to see herself in the raiment of a Gondorian princess, but for now she was content to sleep.
===================
Breaking News: Saddam Hussein has been caught. The war is over.
I don't own Middle-earth or the people in it. You don't *seriously* need a disclaimer by now? Not that you read them. I could be calling the load of you S-O-Bs and you wouldn't know the difference. (I'm not calling you S-O- Bs by the way.) Just read the story. Read the fruit of my fingers. Don't waste time on the disclaimer. ... You just don't get the hint, do you?
-------------------+-------------------
Don't flame me!
-------------------
Mousie2: Remember that Éomund (in battle) and Théodwyn (sickness) died when Éomer and Éowyn were very small. And also that Théodred was much older - I think he was 24 when Théoden adopted them. Otherwise, thanks for the advice - it just seems to come out a rush sometimes.
-------------------
Where's the rest o' yeh? Read! And, moreover, review! This is a short one.
-------------------+-------------------
--+-- Aragorn's Chambers --+--
He sat bolt upright. There it was again - a knock on the door. "Aragorn?" Éomer's commanding tones. "Are you in there?"
"Yes," it was almost a groan. How long had he been asleep? "Come in."
The door opened. "What happened to Éowyn?" said Éomer. "Is she all right?"
"Yes," said Aragorn firmly, finally assured. "She is taking a bath." He glanced out the window: it was barely an hour after dawn. He had not slept long.
"You should both get some rest," Éomer advised. "The City can do without you for a few hours."
"Thank you, Éomer. I promised Éowyn I would come back to check on her," said Aragorn. He wanted to laugh as Éomer's eyebrows twitched.
"She's bathing, you say?" he stammered. It seemed to Éomer that his heart whimpered. The marriage of his friend to his sister had greater implications that he had initially thought of. She would be expected to produce his heir... Éomer suddenly felt very sheepish, as he had not done in a long time.
"She should be done by now," smiled Aragorn sleepily, as though he guessed Éomer's thoughts. "But I will give her a few more minutes, I think."
"It is a good thing that I came to you first, then," said Éomer with a flickering smile. "I had best take my own advice. A fine state your city is in! All of its nobles lie in sloth while the day whirls on!"
"Such has been the way of the world for many years," said Aragorn, but this time he did not smile. "But we, at least, have good reason."
"Indeed," Éomer agreed. He had not known Aragorn very long, and was still unaccustomed to his sudden switches in mood. But he was more than willing to overlook small shortcomings if Aragorn could lift the frost that had lain too long on his sister.
--+-- Éowyn's Chambers --+--
Éowyn watched the servant go, and slipped deeper into the water, wondering how the towels were made so fluffy. The Rohirrim preferred to drip-dry, or at most dab themselves dry with a linen cloth. A long nightgown, of white satin, was folded neatly on the table. She heard the click of hangers in the wardrobe: Aragorn had sent up something else.
The bathwater was turning cold. Éowyn reluctantly slithered out of the bath and quickly wrapped the towel around herself. She stood thus, creating a small pool around her toes while the towel lent her warmth. At last, she shed the towel and shivered as the cold satin slipped over her skin. She proceeded to fold the towel neatly; then she went into the main bedroom and opened the wardrobe. She gasped.
A stunning dress of black velvet hung there. The white tree flowered across the torso and the short sleeves ended in delicate lace. Upon each sleeve were embroidered seven silver stars. The skirt was slim, running down to the ankles, shot with silver.
And beside it, a white silk dress, plain but for the slightly puffed sleeves and gentle slope of the skirt. It was a gown made for gliding. Wrapped around the waist was a silver belt studded with diamonds. Over the shoulders was draped a black mantle: more silver stars twinkled on the hem.
Sitting on the bedside table were two clasps for her hair, one white, one black; there was another clasp for the black mantle. It was silver, and in the shape of a swan spreading its wings. The swan's onyx eyes gleamed in the dawn and in its breast shone a bright white crystal, like adamant but whiter. Éowyn wanted to try it all on, to see herself in the raiment of a Gondorian princess, but for now she was content to sleep.
===================
Breaking News: Saddam Hussein has been caught. The war is over.