A/N: Um, ok I guess Lothiriel is Éomer's cousin but I didn't check on that before I checked the Encyclopedia of Arda to see whom he married… well anyway the point is that he married her. Plus Eleanor Roosevelt married her cousin! I think. I don't really pay attention in history class. Well thanks to everyone who reviewed even if you didn't like it, just know that I may love reading flames in the beginning but about five seconds after I leave the computer, I go, "I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST GOT FLAMED!" so please be kind of sensitive to that. Thanks, and love y'all!

Flashback

Éomer's P.O.V.

I cannot keep from smiling as Faramir leaves the hall. You clever king, you. Lothiriel is still in shock as she places her hand on my head. "My king, is it not cruel to put him through this?" she asks.

Sighing, I reach up to squeeze her fair hand. "Yes, my dear," I say softly, "It is cruel indeed, but so is the man who wishes to take away my beloved sister. This is the only way." She sighs as well and fixes my crown. "As you wish."

Faramir's P.O.V.

A love match? I am no Beren… why can't he be like the traditional men and be satisfied that a good, respectable man with money is interested in his sister? Well, if that is truly his game, I am prepared to win. The only question at hand is how.

"Faramir!" She runs towards me with a saddle in one hand and I instantly break out into cold sweat. "Ah, Èowyn," I say nervously, "I see that coming home has done you some good after all! You look well."

"As do you," she exclaims, examining my burns and scars with interest. "How does your family fare?" She asks politely with a smile, then immediately realizes her mistake. "Oh, Faramir, I am so sorry, I was not thinking properly-" I interrupt her by bringing a finger to her lips. "Fear not, Lady," I say, "For I am now healed in more than one way."

She smiles again softly and we begin to speak of other things. As she talks, the words floating off her tongue one by one, I am lost for words of my own in a second. All I can hear is noise, twisting and turning around in the air as my head throbs unsteadily.

"My lady," I interrupt again, "Forgive me for being blunt as I often am, but every moment that passes makes me believe that I am falling more and more in love with you." She blushes in the sunlight, positively shocked. "Lord Faramir," she stutters, "I- do not quite know what to say-" My confidence shoots up suddenly and I speak once again.

"I knew, Èowyn, from the moment I saw that you bore the black scar, that it was a sign from heaven. The way you were there in my time of need; I have not had a woman in my life since my mother passed. You are the strength, the beauty, the truth I need in my life. I need you. Will you be my wife so that we may start over together?" Èowyn smiles weakly as I fall silent but I know that I must not worry. This is what I feel for her, and what is said is said.

"Give me time to think," she says, "And I will have an answer for you tomorrow." Slowly I take her hand and kiss it softly but I know that the meaning has been changed in a matter of minutes.

"Thank you, my lady," I say gently, and she walks away slowly towards the hall.

Suddenly a tall man walks out from the shadows of the courtyard: Háma. He smiles a sad smile and bows his head slightly as a sign of respect.

"Forgive me for eavesdropping, sir, but I wanted to wish you well," he says gruffly. "After all, I was one of her suitors in my youth. She is a hard lady to win, you see, but worth winning in the end."