A/N; Though I've always been a hardcore Aragorn & Arwen shipper, I've suddenly discovered the wonder of Éowyn & Faramir, as well as Lothíriel & Éomer. So this is my first attempt at an É/F fic, and I hope it's good! I've been listening to angst filled country songs all day, so excuse me if it's a bit sad and depressing.. I promise there is still loads of fluff! It's set post ROTK, and set in Éowyn's point of view.

Reviews = Love.

Elegant Couture

Disclaimer; I bite.

I can see everything in his eyes.

Though he does not know, for I have never spoken of it. We have been married a month now, and each sunlit morning is blessed with the image before me. The raven hair sprawled over a stark white pillow, soft tanned skin tucked under caressing sheets, and strong arms that hold me as if he feared I should disappear.

But Faramir does not know that there is but one black spot upon my otherwise happy mornings. It is brief and the first morning shocked me horribly. When he opens his eyes, those beautiful loving eyes, I can see for one moment the grief, the pain, the horrors of his past. They still haunt him at night, I know this. I wake sometimes to find his proud face twisted in pain, his lips mumbling as a cold sweat breaks upon his brow. I have often tried to wake him from these nightmares but to no avail, as if he is trapped within their depths until the sun breaks the spell.

But now, I shall not have him suffer alone.

He has been gone for five days, a quick visit to Minas Tirith to confer with the King upon some political matter. I fear that he does not let me go with him on these trips for some deep part of him still believes I love Elessar.

But I know that he loves Elessar. I can see it in his face, the way his heart has swelled with pride at what his King has done for his country. It has become the flourishing land it should have always been, the very center of beauty and culture. And I know that he is happy that he doesn't have the full weight of Gondor on his shoulders.

I watch from the court yard as he approaches, his cloak rustling wildly in the wind as he heads to the stables. But, as happy as I was at his return, I knew that I could not longer delay in my confrontation with Faramir.

It only took a few moments before he emerged, and even from this distance I can see the weariness in his countenance. The city is so busy, constantly needing his attentions with the major rebuilding of most of the levels. I feel a smile slip on to my features as I hurry down the steps and, like a child, run to him with my arms stretched out. The weariness fades, if just for this moment, and he meets me halfway. His arms are around me, lifting me off the ground and twirling me around in this moment of bliss.

"Éowyn, how I have missed you!" Faramir's face is nuzzled against my neck, the black locks of hair brushing against the fair skin there and tickling my face.

"As I have missed you." I whisper in return, my arms locked securely about his broad shoulders. "But, no doubt, my lord is tired and in need of a good meal and a warm bed, yes?"

His chuckle warms my heart even more, for it is moments like this that I find I reflect on most.. when he is simply happy and warm, his life radiating about him.

"Perhaps in a bit. There are more important things on my mind.." He murmured as his lips pressed to my cheek and abruptly I am released and he is walking inside.

I turn, my skirts whirling in a dramatic fashion and my hair catching the wind. I watch his back with a hurt look, if only for a second, before I quietly fall in to step behind him. My husband, though I know he loves me as desperately as I love him, can be quite driven and once his mind is set upon something he will not stop until it is completed. I know there have been papers piling up on his desk, dealing with local matters that I have tried to help with. And I know he will be in his office, studying over these papers until well past sunset.

And I let Faramir have his time in his study, mulling over the various duties he was always faced with. I sat upon the large patio that lined the outer bottom floor of our home, my legs curled up to press against my chest, hidden amongst the folds of my simple dress. My chin rests upon my knees, and as I watch the sun sink slowly beyond the horizon, I feel almost like a helpless child.

The purples, pinks, oranges, and reds of the sunset cast a glowing tint over everything and I regret to see such a beautiful sight by my own. But something in me sparks, renewing my courage that had been slipping. I stand hastily, nearly knocking myself over as I try to straighten my dress.

I briskly walked through the hallways of our large home, many of the servants having finished their chores and now retiring for the evening. I entered into the kitchen to find our dinner prepared and ready to be served in the dinning room, but instead I instructed the servant left to carefully arrange the meal on to a few trays that would be taken to the Steward's study. The meek girl gave me a quick nod and I left her to prepare the trays.

Knowing it would take her some time, I hurried to our chambers so that I could change out of my dirty gown. I chose one of my favorites -- and Faramir's -- which was a silk pale blue gown that seemed to, in his words, 'make my eyes glow.' Well, I wanted his attention and I knew in this dress I would be sure to grab it.

It's not that my husband would ever neglect me.. It is simply that sometimes, especially in these times of rebuilding, he becomes too focused upon his work and I have to do something to distract him and take his mind off of it.

After questioning one of the servants, Benir is his name I believe, that specifically tends to Faramir, I gained the knowledge that he has been in his study for some hours and has declined to have dinner. So, if my plan works, I shall simply bring dinner to him. And he cannot refuse me.

Not too much later, I found myself being followed by two servants as I carefully ascended the grand stair case. His study takes up over half of the second level, and it is a very beautiful room. Every time he is gone, I find myself wandering this room for everything in it seems to scream his name. His scent fills the room, and every book has known his touch.

I knock gently upon the door but do not wait for his permission to enter, for it would likely never come. He is, undoubtedly, bent in his chair and completely focused upon writing that he will not even have heard the knock, or even notice I enter until I say something.

The servants quietly set the food upon one of his spare tables that we have used as a dinner table before. As soon as I hear the click of the door signaling their exit, I cross the room and place my hands upon his desk.

"Darling?" I am surprised at how soft my voice is, and it only takes him a second to look up and notice me. Instantly, I note that the pen falls from his hand and his brows arch at my appearance, and no doubt the delicious smell of dinner. "Benir told me you had not eaten yet, that you had of course locked yourself away in here with all of your books." I give him a small teasing smile and walk slowly around the desk, delighting in the look in his eyes. He turns away from his desk and leans back, his eyes never leaving mine. I sit carefully down in to his lap, my arms slipping about his shoulders as I nuzzle my head against his neck. "Will you not eat dinner with me?" I whisper girlishly against his neck.

I can feel him chuckle as he wraps his arms around my waist and uses a hand to gently guide my face away from his neck so that he may look at me.

"I could never deny you anything, and you know that." He murmurs before leaning to kiss me deeply upon the lips. Inwardly, I am ecstatic. Tonight, I will finally get my answers and hopefully lay to rest my husbands haunts and troubles of the past.

I feel his hands begin to wander, his lips caressing down the sensitive skin of my neck, and I have to concentrate to pull away his hands.

"No, no, no, dear Faramir!" I laugh as I pull myself away from him, and I do not miss the pout upon his face. "Later." I murmur as I offer him my hand.

"Why not now?" He is almost whining, and it amuses me to think that he only shows this side, this boyish and childish side, with me.

"Because, we have this lovely dinner spread out for us and.. I have things I wish to talk with you about." He takes my hand and stands up, but quickly captures me in his embrace again.

"We can talk and eat later.." He whispers hotly into my ear, and I squirm out of his embrace. As I have said, my husband is quite hard to deter when he has something on his mind.

But, as I show no signs of relenting and I lead him to the table, he is forced to give in.

"Fine, dear wife, but you will pay for this later!" He grins as he seats himself next to me and reaches for his goblet of wine.

Carefully, I allow the conversation to be casual and light, speaking simply of news from Minas Tirith and what he has yet to do in Ithilien.

"... and Aragorn has his hands full, so I may be needed to return to Minas Tirith so that I can lighten the load some. They fear that with the winter coming, the refugee's whose homes were destroyed in the war will be forced to stay within the city for longer if they cannot finish the new villages."

I look at him curiously as he takes another bite out of his food. "How long do you think that you shall have to stay?"

"I know not.. It could be several weeks, or longer if the weather hastens on us and is worse than expected."

Silence stretches on as I think over this, what would surely be a separation if I do not find some way to completely convince him of my love.

"Faramir?"My voice is soft as I place a hand on top of his free one, and I earnestly look in to his eyes. "Think you that I may still hold King Elessar in my heart, above all else?"

He stops, his hand gently setting down the fork and food. It is several silent, tense moments before he answers me, his voice husky with emotion and his eyes are diverted elsewhere.

"Yes."

Oddly, I am not as upset as I thought I would be. It is a relief to have it out in the open, to be given the chance to convince him otherwise.

He is still not looking at me and I rise slowly, my hand not leaving his as I step closer to his chair. Slowly, I lower myself down until I am kneeling by his chair. I smile sadly as I take his hand and place it upon my chest, just at the upper curve of my breast, so that he can feel my heart beating. My other hand carefully rests under his chin, turning him to face me once more.

"Do you feel that?" I whisper sadly, my eyes brimming with unexpected tears. I had told myself to be strong, to be strong for his sake and here I was! Nearly crying! I can't help it, and I sniffle softly when his eyes finally connect with mine. "My heart only beats for you, Faramir. It has only ever been for you.. I was just too foolish to see that."

He said nothing and she was amazed to see tears reflected back in his eyes. Her fingers moved gently over his cheek, caressing away any tears that had fallen.

His silence strangely encouraged me, and I continued with my speech.

"King Elessar healed me physically, but it is you that saved me. I would surely be dead now because without you, my world is cold and lonely. It was you that saved me, not Aragorn."

He bowed his head for a moment, and I brought my hands to brush through his hair.

"Faramir.. Will you not look at me?" His hand still rested upon my heart beat, as if he needed confirmation to believe I was still there with him. Tears had begun to fall down my cheeks. He rose his head slowly and brought his free hand to cup the back of my head and suddenly I was pulled up to meet his lips in a kiss that went to my very soul. It was not like the lustful kisses we had experienced earlier, it was tender and soft and completely open.

"Éowyn.." He gasps as we part, his hands clutching furiously at my waist.

"I love you." I blurt out, suddenly wanting none of the poetry that so freely flows from his lips, I merely desire the simplicity of the phrase.

"And I love you." He returns, his lips eagerly covering mine and without warning I am pulled up into his arms and lifted from the ground. His footsteps could be heard by the servants as he carried me to our bedroom.

Tears burn in my eyes as he lays be down upon the bed, and he hesitates for a moment to brush them away with his thumbs. I can see in his eyes that he is worried, and I reach up to pull him back down to me. I can finally feel the last of my infatuation -- yes that is the most appropriate term for it -- with Elessar disappear. Here before me is a man who loves and worships me, and I him. It is the purest feeling in the world.

I release a heavy breath as his hands begin their work upon my clothes, and his lips upon my skin. He pauses and I pout at the sudden loss of his touch.

"Will you promise me something, Éowyn?" He has reached up to cup my face again, his eyes staring into mine.

"Anything." My voice is breathless and I know my cheeks are flushed.

"Promise me you will not speak of your death again.." He was heartfelt in his words and I drew my fingers gently over his shoulders.

"It is now but a shadow in my memories."

And then my mind was utterly lost in the sensation. The feel of his skin, his hands, his mouth, everywhere, drove away any thought.

This took me several days to write.. And I'm not done yet!

Next Chapter; Éowyn questions Faramir about his past.. And he returns the favor.