I found that all the times we spent together I could not keep from watching Éomer. There was no doubt that I found him quite handsome. I admired his strong body, his warm brown eyes and sensitive features, but more than that I admired him as a person. He was used to survival, to fighting for life, yet he could be so gentle and caring. When I watched him I found that I, too, lost trail of whatever we happened to be doing at the moment. Once when he felt my eyes on him and turned to look at me my breath caught in my throat. He smiled softly and I felt positively giddy. I sternly pulled my emotions in check, for at that time women and men both were taught not to feel deeply in any way. As a rule now, only men are forced to keep back their emotions in this unnatural way. In my old age I have decided to show my emotions, firmly believing that God would not have given humans the ability to feel and show it if he had wanted them to be stiff and unnatural.

I remember one charming day as the four of us rode toward some destination. We were young and carefree and felt it. Éowyn really began the silliness. We had stopped talking and were admiring the view of the mountains when she began humming to herself softly. Not too softly for Faramir to hear. The doting husband asked her to sing aloud. "It's only a little childhood ditty," she protested laughing, but the man was so besotted he insisted that it would be beautiful. She laughed at him and sang the song. Éomer joined in and his surprisingly soft tenor blended beautifully with her strong alto. The song as I remember it went a little like this,

"The chestnut speeds on light feet

The black on night feet

But the funny little spotted roan

Runs on hooves that are his own."

Of course after we had laughed and teased there was a call for more songs. Faramir sang a little lullaby that his mother would sing to him,

"Kings of men

May rise or fall

As kings will always do

But king or knave

I'll love you dear

I'll watch forever over you."

Naturally they called upon me to sing next. I chose a lullaby my own mother sang to me:

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee

All through the night

Guardian angels God will send thee,
All through the night;
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
I my loving vigil keeping,
All through the night.

While the moon her watch is keeping,
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping,
All through the night
O'er thy spirit gently stealing,
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling,
All through the night.

Éomer smiled at me softly, "You will make a wonderful mother," he said. When Faramir and Éowyn laughed we both blushed and looked away, which made the two laugh all the more.1

1 "All through the night" by Sir Harold Boulton