Discliamer: LOTR does not belong to me. I only write because my muse won't leave me alone.
A/N: I just want to thank everyone for the nice reviews, and I know I sound like a broken record, but I really do appreciate them. Thank you.
Anyway, we are half way through this and in this chapter Éowyn and Faramir learn a little more about each other. Enjoy!
Day 5
The Warden looked out his window and saw Lady Éowyn and Lord Faramir in the garden as they had been for the past several days. He was glad to see the smiles that adorned the Lady of Rohan's somber face. He did not know what words were being exchanged between the pair, but whatever the words were, they were the best treatment in the case of the Lady's heart.
The pair had been in the garden for most of the morning. After strolling along the short path of the garden for some time, Éowyn now sat upon one of the marble benches observing the flowers that grew nearby. Her white hand reached out and picked a delicate white flower with petals that spread open like a brightly lit star in the dark night.
"Simbelmynë," Faramir said, as he walked toward Éowyn and sat beside her. "It is such a lovely flower, but usually associated with sadness."
"When I was a child, I use to play out in the fields and pick Simbelmynë and weave them into crowns," Éowyn reminisced.
"Do you still remember how to weave one?" Faramir asked.
"It has been many years, but I believe my hands still remember the task, for it was a simple task for a child."
"Could you then make me a crown of Simbelmynë?"
"What ever for, my lord?"
Faramir smiled at her puzzled expression. "So I can observe your weaving skills of crowns."
Éowyn looked at him strangely. She wondered if he was feverish, but she decided not to question his motives. "If that is your wish, my lord," she finally said with furrowed brows.
"It is not my wish, but only a request, lady." Éowyn nodded with a small smile and started to pluck.
She plucked a hand full of Simbelmynë and placed them on the bench between them. With her delicate fingers, she picked up a flower and carefully tore a small hole in the center of the stem. When she was pleased with the size of the hole, she picked up another flower and threaded the stem through the hole she made in the first flower. Éowyn then started to form a hole in the stem of the flower she had just threaded. She continued this pattern of poking and threading until she made a chain of Simbelmynë. When she saw that the chain was a decent length, she started to wrap and weave the chain in to a circlet, forming a floral crown.
Faramir watched as Éowyn's long fingers expertly weave the simple crown. Her fingers worked quickly yet carefully at the same time. Even though she had not made a Simbelmynë crown since her childhood, she was able the complete the floral crown in minutes. When she was satisfied with her floral accomplishment, she held the crown out in her hands to Faramir.
"Here, my lord, where shall I place this kingly crown?" She asked with a smile.
"Where ever you see fit, my lady."
Éowyn thought for a moment, and smile an impish smile. She raised the Simbelmynë crown high and placed it over Faramir's raven hair.
"There, a crown fit for the Steward of Gondor."
"I am honored to be bestowed such an honorable gift made from the very hands of the White Lady." He took her hand and kissed the back of it, to give his thanks.
Éowyn let out a small laugh at his gesture.
"But I think this crown would do more justice to one fairer then me." Faramir carefully removed the floral crown from his head and placed it over Éowyn's golden head. "I do believe this crown only compliments your beauty, Éowyn."
"You exaggerate much, my lord."
"I do not exaggerate. I only speak the truth. You should have always a crown of Simbelmynë adorning your golden head."
"It as been many years since I've worn a crown such as this, when I was but a child, my mother would often weave me a crown very much like this one." Éowyn smiled at the happy memory of her mother.
"Did you play much out in the fields of Rohan?" Faramir inquired.
"When I was quite young, I remember wandering in fields of Simbelmynë with my mother and brother. I remember my brother off in the fields pretending to be a gallant knight fending off imaginary beasts, while my mother would keep me by her side as we sat in the fields making crowns of Simbelmynë to decorate our heads. Little did I know that each time we sat out in the fields, my mother prayed that she would never have to see Simbelmynë grow upon my father's grave. For even then, Orcs were invading and terrorizing the eastern regions. My father was one of those who would often ride out to face and destroy these monsters to make safe our land.
"But my mother's prayers were not heard, for one day my father had fallen when he was ambushed by a group of Orcs at borders of Emyn Muil. I remember the day as though it was only the day before.
"The day was clear and still, for no wind blew that day. I sat with my mother in the fields as she braided my hair and adorned it with Simbelmynë. My brother was with us since he deemed himself our protector when my father was away." Éowyn smiled at the memory of her brother always protecting and watching over her, even when they were children, but her smile quickly faded as she continued her story.
"That day a rider approached us. He said no words, but his mean was somber. As he got off his horse to approach us, my mother stood up waiting for his message. But no words were needed, for my mother knew, by the rider's countenance, what had occurred. The Simbelmynë in her hands fell to the ground as tears streamed and glistened down her pale cheeks. My mother did not move. She only stood there staring into emptiness. She did not hear my pleas, or those of my brother. Then moment's later she had fallen into a faint and the rider brought us home. That was the day my mother's soul left us.
"After that fateful day, my mother never went outside again. She only remained isolated in her room, looking out the window like she still waited for my father's return.
"I remember asking her why she remained by the window day after day in silence. She only looked at me with her sad eyes, touched her cold hand upon my cheeks, kissed my forehead, and told me to run along.
"For months I watched my mother grieve, until her fair white face had turned pale and sickly, and she fell ill from her grief. Then I only had my brother to comfort me. When King Théoden heard of his sister's ailment, he came to see her, but no medicine could heal my mother's illness, and she finally passed from the world.
"With the sudden loss of my father and mother, the King took me and my brother in, and raised us as his own since my cousin, Théodred was his only son. For the Queen died untimely as well."
"King Théoden was surely a generous man to take you both in with such open arms," Faramir said.
"He was kind-hearted, generous, and like a father to me, but as the years past and Grima Wormtongue came into the service of my uncle, things started to change. Edoras had slowly become covered by a cloud of gloom."
"Is it because of this foreboding gloom that you were taught the skill of the blade?" Éowyn shook her head.
"After my mother died, I knew that I did not want to have the same fate of grieving for my lord each time war came to us in these dark time. I decided that I would learn the skill of the blade, so I could ride out to fight if an early death was inevitable. But at first my brother would hear none of my desires to learn the skills of battles, which he past as a childish fancy to fight like men, but being in the country of the horse lords, I was taught to ride."
"Though you say that your brother would not teach you the skill of the blade, I sense that you still learned this skill at a young age."
Éowyn smiled at Faramir's correct assumption. "You sense correctly, my lord. My cousin, Théodred, who was much older then I, taught me some basic sword skills, for he saw the importance of needing to have some skill in defending ourselves in these dangerous times.
"As time past and darkened, so did the halls of Meduseld. Now I saw my uncle slowly distance and deteriorate from the Grima's words of poison. In time my brother started to worry for my safety, for he also sensed Grima's eyes upon me as I grew and took my place as the Shieldmaiden of Rohan. From then my brother began to teach me how to defend myself from enemies and attack when necessary."
"In the midst of those dark times, there must have been some light," Faramir said.
"There were glimmers of light through the darkness. For when we were young our innocence were still pure and untainted. I played often with my brother in the halls of Meduseld, which is now empty and without a king. I fear the halls of Meduseld will remain empty if the darkness succeeds."
They both turned their heads eastward and thought with heavy hearts for their loved ones.
"My mother also died of grief," Faramir began, his gaze still looking to the east, while Éowyn turned to face him. "I remember her always looking out to the east with a very somber mean. It was as if the east slowly drained the life from her gentle heart each passing day." Faramir pulled his gaze away from the east to face Éowyn. "She always preferred to look to the seas in the south."
"Though my father did not show much affection, he loved her dearly. I remember one night when I was a young boy playing out in the garden, much like this one, my father gave my mother a beautiful deep blue mantle adorned with twinkling stars upon it. It looked as though my mother was the fair moon shrouded by the stars. I remember her looking beautiful in her starry mantle, for the mantle complimented her sad eyes.
"When my mother passed on, my father withdrew from his subjects and became even more grim and silent. He gave what ever remaining love he had for my mother to my brother, Boromir. He loved Boromir, for Boromir was much like him in strength and in battles, while I was the weaker."
"Strength does not lie only in physical accomplishments," Éowyn said.
"That was what many had told me, but my desire to seek my father's approval blinded me and led me to the brink of darkness."
"Surely your father loved you. Though he did not display his affection for you openly," Éowyn assured. Faramir smiled at her comforting words.
"Boromir would say the exactly same words to me."
"Your brother sounds like a wise man; I would have liked to have met him."
"I would have liked him to have met you, Éowyn, for he would have surely agreed."
"Agreed, my lord?"
"Agree that you have beauty that cannot be found in Gondor, but beauty that is very much like my mother."
"Again you exaggerate, my lord. I'm sure your mother was truly a great beauty, more so then I."
"She was a tragic beauty, but as I look upon you, I see that your beauty surpasses hers, for though you have the same sadness in your heart, but you also have the fire of life she did not have."
Éowyn looked away, for she was stating to feel uncomfortable from the attention Faramir gave her. She quickly decided to change the subject.
"Tell me. What was it like growing up in this great city of Minas Tirith?"
"When I was a child my mother would recite and sing lore of past heroes and kings of old. I loved the stories of Valar coming to Almaren in the First Age, and tales of the creation of the Elves, Men, and other beings residing in Middle-Earth. My favorite would be the Tale of Beren and Luthien, the tale where a mortal man falls in love with an elf-maiden, and he willingly gave his life for her love. In return, she gave up her immortality for him."
"It sounds like a lovely tale," Éowyn listened with fascination.
"It was a sweet tale of the joys and pains that past been the union of the pair."
"What of your brother? Did he enjoy these tales as you?"
"My brother had been described as being like King Eärnur of old, for he took no wife and delighted in arms. Boromir was fearless and strong, and cared little for lore, except for tales of old battles.
"He was the complete opposite from me, but I loved him dearly. Without the love of my father, I still had the love of my brother. He was always at my side supporting and protecting me, especially in matters that involved my father.
"Even though Boromir preferred going to battle over studying lore, he was still a man that cherished peace. I am sadden that he did not live to see this darkness pass."
"We may not yet see this darkness pass either if the Halflings are hindered from completing their task."
"Then we should continue to hope." He looked into Éowyn's eyes and saw despair returning. "Even though you fear to hope, I will stand beside you and help you hope."
Faramir saw that his words brought comfort to Éowyn's heart, and was glad that his words could soothe the maiden's sorely uneasy heart, even if it was for a moment.
Finally Faramir concluded that they had been sitting idly for long enough, and he stood up to persuade Éowyn to take another turn with him about the garden.
"My lady, now that you are crowned in Simbelmynë would you not grace me in your lovely presence and take another turn about the garden?" He held out his hand for her.
Éowyn smiled and reached out her white hand and placed it in his, and for a moment she left her woes behind her.