Part 29 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.

A/N: Yes, it's true. I'm BAAAACCCCKKKK! Finished writing HP and eagerly dashed back to Rohan (despite SOMEONE's efforts to waylay me!). And, as usual, instead of working on finishing any of the stories I already have partly written on paper, or working up one of the ones I have on a list of ideas, I came up with a new idea instead and hashed it out. Go figure! Oh well, enjoy! (And who knows which story this one "follows"?)

Homage

(Oct, 9 IV)

The three men sat silently staring into the fire, tired after the long day, but glad they were finally heading home. In an effort to lift the somewhat somber mood, Faramir proposed, "If you could describe your wife in a single word, what would it be?" He let them consider that.

"You go first, since it was your idea," suggested Aragorn.

Faramir nodded agreeably, "All right. I think, perhaps, the word would be passionate." There were chuckles and raised eyebrows, and he flushed slightly.

"That is not what I meant, though she is certainly that as well," he admitted. Elaborating, he told them, "Eowyn has a passion for life. She approaches everything with energy and determination and...passion. Nothing is halfhearted with her, not even her love for me and our children. I sometimes feel like a stodgy old man next to her, and I wonder that she chooses to be with me, but she also inspires me to live more fully and love more deeply than I ever thought possible before I knew her."

He fell silent and the men contemplated his words. Without urging, Aragorn spoke next, "Arwen is...tranquil. In all things there is a calmness and peace about her that is soothing. Some days, after a tense session with my advisers, I am a bundle of knots, but just a short time in her presence and my peace is restored. No alarm is too serious, no tragedy so great, no sorrow so deep that she does not weather it tranquilly, and she shares that peace with all around her."

Eomer was the last, and he took the longest to respond. At length, he raised his mug of ale to his lips, but before he took a swallow, he said quietly, "Courageous." The word hung there in the air, and when he made no move to explain, Faramir urged, "Why? What has she done that is courageous?"

Eomer took another swallow, and then stared into the mug, before declaring, "She married me." Something in the way he said it did not invite them to pursue his reasoning.

Aragorn stood, "Well, I think I will call it a night, gentlemen. It is a long ride home." He moved toward his tent, and Faramir stood to follow his lead, but hesitated a moment, and squeezed Eomer's shoulder in understanding.

Eomer looked up and gave him a half smile before he moved away. He sat, continuing to stare into the flames as they slowly died down to glowing embers.

It wasn't the first time he had had such a thought about his wife, and this trip to Gondor had reminded him forcefully of all she had to endure on his account. She had watched him ride away to battle more than once during their marriage, but this time he left her with two young children and the possibility of another on the way. She was far from her homeland, with none of her relatives nearby and, if he failed to return, she would be called upon to rule Rohan until his son was of age to do so. Her father and brothers were soldiers and her father ruled in Dol Amroth; she had not entered into the marriage unaware of the difficulties that might arise, but she could hardly have expected to brave so much in just a few short years.

She did it because she loved him – there was no other reason she needed. And there was nothing she would deny him, if he truly wanted it. She had proved that on more than one occasion. How could she face the unknown, the trials, the fear, the stress, the uncertainties of life as his queen? Courage. He could put no other name to it.

He didn't deserve it; he didn't even ask of her most of the things she sacrificed just because it would please him. But one thing he did know. With his dying breath he would do everything in his power to never make her regret choosing him.

He yawned tiredly, then swallowed the last of his ale in a single gulp and rose. A few days and he would be back in her arms, his family close about him. A smile lit his face at the thought, and he moved toward his tent to begin the slumber that would hasten the new day.

THE END

7-6-05

End note: It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.