And the insane one has returned for chapter 3!

I am sorry that this took a while to get out…I had a bit of trouble with and I could not upload. The same thing goes for my previous chapter.

Again, thank you for all of your reviews…they are so wonderful and encouraging.

Disclaimer: I OWN IT ALL! All of Hamal that is…the rest belongs to Tolkien. The two poems I use later on, they are also property of Tolkien.

Notes: Just usual, fluff, testosterone and pissy moods. I also hope that I am keeping Eowyn in character enough for you guys. I hate the stories where she is pictured as 'cold stone bitch' or 'bright and bubbly' which directly contradicts her character. Granted she dose become 'stone cold bitch' for a while, but that is only after Saruman has taken over Théoden and Theodred has died. Since this is an AU, she is bit more cheerful, but sad enough for most people to pity her. Also, the Aragorn factor comes in. In Rohan, Aragorn is known as Thorongil (just from memory, I am pretty sure it means golden light.)

Chapter 3: Of Nimrodel and Beren

(Strange sounding I know, but it will all make sense at the end of the chapter and before one person points this out…Luthien is the one that gives up her immortality for Beren, I KNOW, like I said it will all make sense at the end)

This chapter takes place two days after the last installment…

Enjoy

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Eowyn scowled as she rode down the plains of Rohan. She wasn't alone either. Rage coursed through her veins, as did sadness flow in her blood. So this was to be her fate? To be forced to wed some over-spoiled, pampered prince of Gondor? She would not stand for it. Up a head Théoden-King rode atop of Snowmane, tall and proud he rode as if he valued the decision to force his only niece into courtship. Of course when Théoden had told her the news he assured her that it was just to meet with Lord Denethor and see the circumstances for himself. Eowyn knew better than to trust his word alone. It was only natural that her uncle and foster father would sweet coat the truth. Theodred, as well as her brother refused to look Eowyn in the face despite her dares. She refused to acknowledge anyone's presence, even her chamber maids, even as they packing for the three day ride. When asked what gowns she would wear for Minas Tirith, Eowyn did nothing but look out her window, and the maids packed a few gowns at random. The only way that she participated in preparations for the journey was by hiding a sword underneath her skirts. Many of the long flowing dresses in her wardrobe were perfect for concealing weapons due to the abundance of material. Both Eomer and Theodred double checked Windrod to make sure that Eowyn did not attempt to smuggle any weapons so as to give a proper impression in Gondor. She had to congratulate herself on her clever hiding place of her weapon. Even if Eomer found out, little could be done for he would not go looking up her skirts for a blade. Boromir and Faramir had wisely avoided her path since the announcement had been made previously that morning. It was in their better judgment, as Eowyn knew as well. There was no doubt in the young woman's mind that she would not hesitate to turn her fury and frustration on them.

Along with the six men from Gondor, her brother, Theodred, King Théoden, approximately a dozen Rohirim had also been summoned forth in the journey. Among then was Hamal; he was the one that Eowyn had originally coaxed into teaching her to ride and sword play. She liked Hamal very much and was one of the few men that she trusted. Hamal was currently riding to her right side atop Firefoot. Another Rider that Eowyn knew personally was Eothain. He was only three years her senior and Eowyn had spent long hours chucking large gobs of mud at Eothain for teasing her about being a girl. Eothain had a sister, Freya, which was one of her chamber maids. He was tall with dirty golden locks of hair that he never seemed to wash. Eothain's form was very broad as was his face, spotted by a young beard. The remaining ten Rohirrim Eowyn knew only by sight, and even a few by name, but she had never conversed with then. A scarce few she had raced, and easily beaten, but other than that she had no association with them. Luckily, Grima did not join them on this journey, much to Eowyn's relief. She never cared much for Wormtongue, and only accepted him as a member of her uncle's court.

A rider approached Eowyn but she turned her head in dismay when it turned out to be Beregond. She almost regretted saving his horse because all she had received in return was her future being thrown to the wind. A kind smile played upon Beregond's face, but Eowyn saw it only as a smirk of victory. "Thank you milady for giving aid to my steed," Beregond said, pointing to the bay he rode. Eowyn looked at him coldly and shouted "HYA" at Windrod who rode ahead. She refused to look them, any of them, in the face. While racing ahead, she hastily wiped away the lone tear that fell down her pall check. The great Shieldmaiden of Rohan was crying. Eowyn laughed in spite of herself and allowed the wind to blow her pale golden tendrils across her sad face so as to hide it.

Back behind her, Beregond sported a look of confusion. Boromir came up to his side and Beregond said, "I meant only to thank her kindness".

Boromir snorted. "Women are fickle, leave them be to their own matters".

"And if their matters should become yours Milord?" Beregond questioned.

"I would laugh and return to my duties, which do not lie in a woman's weak and feeble, easily broken grasp!" Boromir bragged. In truth, Boromir loathed the very thought of being betrothed to a woman when his duties of battle always came first. A worrying woman would do no one any good and wouldn't bring about peace. In fact, Boromir figured they would bring only more chaos.

"Yes brother, tell that to father and for once his wrath shall be upon you and I shall have a much needed break," Faramir said as he pulled up beside Beregond, who laughed at his joke. Faramir saw his brother sulk at the truth of his words. Denethor would only take compliance and loyalty. Anything below that was as equal as treason to the enemy Eye of Sauron himself.

"Oh I fret not. The way I see matters is father would engage her to you," Boromir scoffed regaining his tongue. "That way manors of war would be left to me, and matters of dull politics would be left at your hands and away from Mithrandir," he joked, but knew the bitter acid truth behind them. However he hit his brother on the back in a kinship like manor, showing that he meant no real harm.

"I don't like it," Faramir said simply.

"It never matters to father whether or not we like his ruling, just as long as we heed it," Boromir said. Beregond had gone silent, knowing that this was not his conversation, but that of his two princes.

"I don't mean that, although there is nothing but truth to your words," Faramir paused and scowled, "What I mean was this whole business of arranged marriage, father dumping it on our shoulders without neither our consent nor hers," he pointed to the proud and sad woman ahead, "it doesn't stand well with me…" Faramir trailed on.

"Nor I, but we cannot defy father. He will not tolerate insolence, you know that as well as I," Boromir replied softly to his brother being entirely true. But hey, the truth always hurt and it never gave mercy.

For hours on end the small company rode. The pace seemed monotonous and endless. Eowyn almost felt that she would n ever reach Minas Tirith. A secret part of her wanted to see Minas Tirith first hand. Eomer had brought home all sorts of intriguing stories of glittering marble White City. She had always imaged that it was full of noble men and women of great respect. According to her brother, the soldiers of Gondor were men to be reckoned with and many were equal to that of their notorious reputation. Reputation most often preceded the truth, and Eowyn no longer trusted reputation. She only relied on her own wit and judgment, as well as that of her brother and, though much rarer, that of Theodred and her uncle. But she preferred seeing everything with her own eyes instead of taking another's word for it. Windrod seemed to be enjoying all of his extra time out of the cramped stables. More than once, Eowyn had to suppress the urge just to dash off ahead of the group, but after doing so there was no guarantee that she would have moved even in the correct direction.

So she just continued to ride on at the same pace all day. Twice the group stopped to allow the horses to feed and drink from the occasional river or small stream that dotted the endless fields of long golden grass. As dusk began to fall, Théoden called a halt to everyone and barked out orders to start pitching camp. Eowyn would be sharing a small tent with her brother much to her dismay. One of her chamber maids insisted that her brother be with her at all times in case one of the Gondorians should get a foul inclination in his mind. The sibling's tent was the first to go up because it was smaller and had the help of a pair of sturdy hands whereas even Theodred would be sleeping on his own. Hamal and Eothain were sent to collect water and, if opportunity presented itself, food preferably conies. While watching the others build their tents Eowyn let her eyes linger on the camp of Faramir. He was indeed a very strange and different man. Faramir was very soft spoken and well taught to use his mind, and not rely totally on brawn alone. Eowyn admired that quality of Faramir; it was something that many men of Rohan had yet to learn and master. She supposed that if the treaty were to happen that she would not mind so much to be betrothed to second son. 'But that will not happen as long as I have a say in it,' she silently vowed. Eowyn knew just by a first glance and by the manor he wore his heart proudly against his shimmering armor that being forced into courtship to Boromir would be the very worst circumstance. She abhorred his arrogant attitude. Boromir would no doubt argue that it was his pride that he was flaunting, but there was a fine line between arrogance and pride. Eowyn was very proud but she did not wear it for everyone to strike.

The cool evening breeze felt well against Eowyn's sweating form. The sun had been hot, blistering and unrelenting all day long. She wore one of her more coarse dresses for riding; it was brown wool and very hardy against weather, but subjected the rider to its insulation even in the hot midday sun. Eowyn pitied sheep for they wore a thick wool coat all year long until fully mature. No matter what the weather was they had to bear its burden and its intensity in summer. Shortly the rest of the camp was pitched and Eowyn decided to go for a short walk around the camp. It would be her first real opportunity to be alone with her collective thoughts. Making sure that she was well out of earshot from the rest of the camp she began to chant under her breath:

An Elven-maiden there was of old,

A shining star by day:

Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,

Her shoes of silver grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,

A light was on her hair

As sun upon the golden boughs

In Lorien fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,

And fair she was and free;

And in the wind she went as light

As leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,

By water clear and cool

Her voice as falling silver fell

Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,

In sunlight or in shade;

For lost of your was Nimrodel

And in the mountains strayed.

The Elven-ship in haven grey

Beneath the mountain-lee

Awaited her for many a day

Beside the roaring sea.

It was a tale told to her in her youth by an old man known only as Grayhame. As a child, Grayhame would visit Edoras often seeking council with her uncle. He often wore torn and weathered grey robes and a large pointed blue hat. His beard was long and grey as his name. Eowyn loved his frequent visits, though she could be no more than 8 years of age. The old man had taught her many an Elven songs and tunes. But as the years passed so did Grayhame. He had not visited in many years, although the legacy of his tunes still lingered in Eowyn's head. She would often sing them when alone or caught up in thought. The story of the fair Elf maiden Nimrodel had always been one of her favorites.

Unlike her sharp and intuitive character, Eowyn did not hear the steps behind her. It was not until a voice began to sing did she whirl around.

A wind by night in Northern lands

Arose, and loud it cried,

And drove the ship from Elven-strands

Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,

The mountains sinking grey

Beyond the heaving waves that dosed

Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore

Now low beyond the swell,

And cursed the faithless ship that bore

Him far from Nimrodel.

Of old he was an Elven-king,

A lord of tree and glen,

When golden were the boughs in spring

In fair Lothlorien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap,

As arrow from the string,

And dive into the water deep,

As mew upon his wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,

The foam about him shone;

Afar they saw him strong and fair

Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,

And on the Hither Shore

No tidings of Elven-folk have heard

Of Amroth evermore.

Faramir had been following Eowyn the entire time. Out form the corner of his eye he saw the young woman trod off and he decided to follow her so that she did not make a foolish attempt to ride away. It was true that he did indeed pity the woman but Faramir still had his duty. He would never abandon it. Death would be a preferable fate to what his father would subject him to. Faramir would easily take death over pain and humiliation. It would come as a relief. On the positive side, Faramir did not expect the sad looking maiden of Rohan to know poems of Elvish lore. She had seemed so distanced from literature and the written world of music that Faramir thought her to be only of a man's hardship. When Eowyn had turned around to meet his grey eyes, her cerulean orbs widened in shock. It was clear that she thought herself completely alone. "Forgive me," Faramir said. "I did not mean to disturb you".

"It that is really the words of truth bouncing from your tongue then why did you speak forth," Eowyn asked bitterly as she folded her pale cream colored arms across her chest defensively. Did this woman trust anything or anyone?

"The tale of Nimrodel was one taught to me in my years of youth. I could not help but join in," Faramir said gently. The proud woman's face in front of him softened a bit, but she held herself in defense. He did not blame her actions. If he were forced into the same situation, Faramir would no doubt feel the same. "What other tales do you know of?" Faramir inquired in all earnest.

"Not many. For tunes of romance and tales of old ages long since passed do nothing to aid the present," Eowyn said; her eyes were blazing blue pools firing to the brim with pride.

"Please My Lady, do not get so defensive against my presence," Faramir continued. "It was not my wish that this burden be dumped upon you or your people. My wish is merely the same as yours," he said softly. He did not want to make enemies of the woman before him. She was so sad and proud. Yet from their experience the other day, Faramir knew that she was smart and wise. Hidden deep inside her soul was youth and sparkle that most women her age possessed. Faramir recognized it immediately from the moment he had seen her.

"If indeed our wish is the same, than what is it?" Eowyn inquired skeptically.

"Do not be so bold as to mistrust every word that is thrown at you…"-he paused for a moment, meeting her hard gaze and then continued-"Our wish is to be free: Free of the duty that restricts us and free of the responsibility dumped on our shoulders from birth without our consent," again a pregnant pause took the pair, "and to break lose of the cage that has captured our freewill," he finished.

Eowyn's eyes went wide. How could this arrogant man know all this? She did not know what to say. He spoke as the wise men of old, and the Elves she had read about.

"Speak, please, I beg of you. You have spent too many days in dark silence," Faramir pleaded.

More moments of silence took them before Eowyn slowly spoke, "Indeed, then, our wish is the same". A sad smile glazed her pale features. "You are the first to know my wish" she spoke. "Even my brother cannot see the truth in front of his eyes".

"Do not feel secluded in your worries. My brother," Faramir pointed to Boromir who was seated around a fire, "can only see the grave battles he wages against evil. He dose not understand my position".

"Then we are the same," Eowyn said as more of a sad statement than a question.

"Aye, fair lady, we are," Faramir said gloomily. The pair glanced down at the camp fire that was burning brightly. Around it sat Boromir, Eomer, Theodred, Beregond and Eothain.

"And what will happen to you if this marriage should happen," Eowyn cautiously asked.

Faramir sighed and said in a sullen voice. "There is one of two outcomes that would happen. My father shall appoint you to marry my brother who in turn, shall be the one to officially initiate the treaty at the day of the ceremony. I would return to Ithilien and to matters that greatly concern me but not my brother or father. However, the other choice would be you would be engaged to myself. Much the same process would happen in terms of the official treaty. Then my Boromir could continue his matters with our own borders, that are so forbiddingly close to the land of the enemy," Faramir grimly. Those were the only choices if the treaty should happen. Neither prospect was appealing, especially the latter. He did not wish to be burdened by political matters, but by those of moral. Politics was one of the many reasons why Denethor favored his first born to his second as Faramir well knew. He would have to be a fool not to know.

"Then let us pray that Théoden-king dose not see these circumstances as dire as Lord Denethor," Eowyn responded hopefully. "it would lead to a poor outcome on both fronts".

A great wave of compassion washed over Faramir at the Lady's words of truth. It was in that moment that the second son of the steward fully realized the Lady Eowyn's true radiance under the moonlight as it shined against her fair porcelain skin. In light of his sudden moment of realization Faramir began to strum with his tongue.

The leaves were long, the grass was green,

The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,

And in the glade a light was seen

Of stars in shadow shimmering.

Tinuviel was dancing there

To music of a pipe unseen,

And light of stars was in her hair,

And in her raiment was glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,

And lost he wandered under leaves,

And where the Elven-river rolled

He walked alone and sorrowing it.

He peered between the hemlock-leaves

And saw in wonder flowers of gold

Upon her mantle and her sleeves,

And hair like the shadow flowing.

Eowyn smiled. She knew that song well. It was the very first one taught to her by Grayhame. She had loved it as a child and believed in its message of undying love, even past death. But as years came and went and left their shadow upon her soul, Eowyn thought the tale to be nothing but silly child's tales. Yet however, she felt oddly connected to the story and began to chant along in sync.

Enchantment healed his weary feet

That over hills were doomed to roam;

And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,

Through woven woods of Elvenhome

She lightly fled on dancing feet,

And left him lonely still to roam

In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound

Of feet as light as linden-leaves

Or music welling underground,

In hidden hallows quavering.

Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,

And one by one with sighting sound

Whisper fell the beechen leaves

In the wintry woodland wavering.

XIX

Eomer scowled at the bright dancing ember flame. To his right sat Theodred and Eothain. To his left Boromir and Beregond sat and watching the fire dance. "Do you in all seriousness, feel that this is necessary," Eomer questioned.

"Do you wish me to speak in earnest, or for my father?" Boromir said.

"Both," Eomer replied quickly and coldly. He wanted to know the truth of just how desperate things are for his sister to be betrothed. And if the very fate of Middle-Earth was on lying on it, Eomer still would object. Eowyn had a life and a right to live it to its fullest extent, and not be bounded to some spoiled swine of a half-defeated country.

"My thoughts are that a marriage can not solve anything, and brings nothing but restrictions and political unbalance. However my strategy is in war, not politics. You, I gather, are much the same. However, whatever news that reached my father's ear must have sparked his nerve. He believes in independence of the nation, not to be bound by the legion of another. My father, Lord Denethor, is a wise man and if such times are so desperate that he should brake his morale code than it must be dire," Boromir defended his father. But in truth he knew that he was lying. Denethor wanted power, and though treaties and agreements he would obtain partial power over their nation. That was one of reasons why Boromir knew that he favored him over Faramir. Boromir would defend and do anything for his nation and knew no bounds to his loyalty, whereas Faramir spent many years of his childhood, adolescence and young adult years of youth in Ithilien training among Rangers. Faramir wanted to be free of all confines including his royal birthright. Faramir was loyal only to his father, but not Gondor. "Then let me ask you a question," Boromir said.

"Proceed," Theodred said.

"What think you of this situation? Will your king agree?" Boromir asked. He silently hoped, as did his brother, that it would not go through. He would lose his warfare and Faramir would lose a large part of his freedom. It was being selfish of him, as Boromir well knew, but he could not help it.

"I should have thought that I made my position clear from the other day. I will not allow my sister, and only direct blood kin be handed over and forced into courtship. Whether it is from Gondor or the lands of the Elves for all I care, I will never support it. She will lose all her freedom and be forced into the shadow of some," Eomer paused and chose his words carefully, "noble too wrapped up in their own line of duty to care. Although I disarray, Eowyn would not stand for it either. She would run. Of that I have no doubt. Whether or not she lives in luxury on the back of a smelly steed matters not to her so long as she retains her freedom and pride," Eomer said. "As for King Théoden, I feel that his views on the matter are just the same as mine and his likely hood of accepting is slight. And now, I have another question for you; to whom she would be engaged with?" Eomer asked. If it indeed was Boromir, the arrogant swine in front of him Eomer would pack her fleeing horse himself.

"That I do not know. But instead of worrying yourself about my standing perhaps you should gaze yonder and see your real trouble," Boromir pointed at the couple that was walking back into camp. Their silhouettes were dim, but Boromir would know the tall shadow of his brother any day. At his side was the outline and curves that only a woman possessed, so it could be none other than the lady Eowyn.

Eomer, Théoden, as well as Eothain's eyes widened in shock. Coming over the small bluff and out of the tall grass was the form of Eowyn next to the second son of Gondor. Eomer's sharp ears caught the very faint sound of them chanting together an Elvish song that he had not heard Eowyn sing for many years since her childhood. What was she doing?

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END CHAPTER! I think we all know what Eowyn is doing XD! She's falling in love. Well, kinda.

I hope you all like this.

I must say right now, that there will be a bit of a break before the next chapter. I have finals coming up and then much more crap after that. I hope you liked this chapter.

Please read and review. Read+enjoying+reviewsthe next chapter coming out MUCH quicker. (Hint hint, nudge nudge)