Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, and Newline-Peter Jackson. I am simply borrowing the characters mentioned below.


White Lilies

She looked so fragile, porcelain skin gleaming in the pale light; dressed in white. Ever the White Lady. Her sword lay upon her breast, white lilies held in her slender hands. How fitting, he thought, that white lilies should be the flower placed upon her breast for eternity. He knew that the lilies had been placed there, not because they were white; mostly because they had always been her favorite flower, despite the fact that in Rohan, her home, where Simbelmynë grew upon the graves of those who had passed. What he did not like, was the fact that the white liliessymbolized death.

He gazed down at her body, wishing that he could hold her: something he never got to do. He realized long ago that she would never be his; hobbits and humans were an unlikely match: one you would never see. But he didn't deny that fact that he loved her, and he tried to move on once he saw that she loved Faramir, not him. Never him. So he had married, learned to love his hobbit-lass wife; she had always known that his heart would never fully belong to her.

With a kiss upon her brow, Meriadoc Brandybuck bid farewell to Eowyn, White Lady of Rohan, forevermore.