Perfectly Laid Plans

(Surprise continued…sort of)

Rating: G

Genre: Humor/Romance

Summery: Post-ROTK. This time it's Eowyn who's pregnant. Will she have better luck than Arwen surprising her own husband, the equally busy Steward of Gondor?

See first section for disclaimer.

A/N: Though I'm still having a hard time comprehending why such a short and uncomplicated piece as Surprise received 50 reviews (certainly surprised me—thankyou!), it was really encouraging to know I could write satisfactorily in the humor/romance genre. Still in some disbelief over receiving so much positive feedback, I was glancing through my reviews the other day when a suggestion from one of you—Godrules—caught my attention: "…you should write one about Eowyn and Faramir too, that would be hysterical!" Thus this new addition. So thank you, Godrules, for the inspiration :-) Oh, and although the setting in this short piece is busy as well, it's not meant to take place directly after the first one, with Aragorn and Arwen ;-)

Without further ado, here's my latest stab at writing romance…

The moment Faramir was gone, Eowyn stole into the room. She slid into her husband's chair, eyeing his desk with raised eyebrows, and no small amount of pity. He certainly wasn't without work these days.

Layer upon layer of documents lay on the desk, in varying states of order—some stacked, some strewn haphazardly. Faramir was, on the whole, fastidious, but fulfilling the role of Steward of Gondor had just fallen short of brutal, lately. It wasn't that the King was pushing things off on him and sitting around sipping wine all day—she knew Aragorn was equally busy, if not more so—but everything had been exceptionally hectic for both of them for over a week now. That meant Faramir was, almost literally, being buried under paperwork of all kinds.

In truth, she knew Aragorn probably had the harder end of the deal. He had to deal face-to-face with many of the perpetrators of the, at times, terribly frustrating letters. He had to reason with all these unreasonable people, bringing to him their unreasonable requests. Faramir still had to be diplomatic through some extremely trying problems. But at least he could roll his eyes in the safety of his room while "listening" to Lord-so-and-so complain about absolutely nothing, and absolutely everything. She didn't know how either of them could stand having to constantly go through all these political dealings and niceties. But both of them did it with dignity and aplomb, usually keeping their calm, and almost always a degree of politeness.

Gondor couldn't have been in two more capable sets of hands, in her opinion. Not that she was biased, by any means.

And now… And now, she had news for Faramir that could have brightened the gloomiest of days. She was pregnant with their first child. It would bring a sparkle to his tired eyes at last. It wasn't exactly the most opportune of times to do it, but there were no signs to indicate that life might settle down any time soon, and there was absolutely no way she was going to wait indefinitely to tell him.

The only question was, how she was going to go about telling him. There had to be some special, unique way she could do it. However, she had been forewarned. Arwen had already told Eowyn once, smiling with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, about her experience telling Aragorn of her own pregnancy. That caused Eowyn to pause in her own scheming.

Faramir and Aragorn were often so alike in personality, she could easily see herself trying to subtly surprise her husband with the news by hinting—and him behaving just as obliviously as Aragorn had. But she didn't much like the thought of just blatantly saying it. That was more her personally—just coming right out and saying things—but it lacked the romantic touch in this particular case.

Faramir was going to be so surprised, so happy… He'd make a wonderful father. But how to tell him, without just marching up and saying, "Faramir, pay attention—we're having a baby."?

She didn't want to make the mistake of trying to tell him at night, either, when he was exhausted. However, that left her with telling him in the morning, or afternoon. Faramir was a man who liked to get up early, and work hard and long. Which meant there weren't very many pauses where she had opportunities to pull him aside and break the happy news to him over a romantic candle-lit meal. But she was not going to settle for either bluntness, or catching him while he was too tired to keep his eyes open, much less listen to her. It would be this morning—and she had an idea.

Reaching across the desk for a blank piece of parchment, she took up a quill, dipped it in the ink-well, and considered her message. After a moment, grinning hugely, she scrawled: What do you think about being father, my love? If you don't like the idea, it's a bit too late now. Then, after blotting the ink, she considered its placement. Not right out in the open, but somewhere he'd find it relatively soon… She lifted several documents off the top of the stack he was currently working on, set her letter on the stack, and then replaced them.

She contemplated her work with satisfaction for a minute, then, hearing the returning footsteps of her husband, rose quickly from his chair and tried to look casually preoccupied at the window. It wasn't the first time she'd stayed to keep him company while he worked, and she wasn't expecting him to take much notice of her. Yet.

When she turned around to smile at him, he did glance up briefly, smiling wearily in return.

"You look tired, and it isn't noon yet. How are things going?" she inquired.

He gestured to his overflowing desk. "It seems like the moment I finish one thing, something else arrives to takes its place." He picked up the top document off the stack in front of him—the one Eowyn had hidden her letter in. "Eru, I swear, this pile's grown since I left the room…"

Eowyn turned away, biting her lip to keep from laughing outright. Little did he know.

He soon became absorbed with the document he held, frowning over it, shrugging, and then setting it to the side. He picked up the second one—Eowyn's heart began to beat faster in anticipation—glanced at it, sighed, muttered, and set it to the side as well. Then he picked up her note.

If he'd looked in her direction at that moment, Eowyn knew her face would have given everything away. She waited. She waited some more. He was reading it, and taking a long time to do so. It's only two sentences long, Faramir… He was rubbing his temples, frowning as he had with the last two letters, as if he wasn't fully focused on what he was reading, or processing all the information. Obviously he wasn't in this case.

Impatience marring her anticipation now, Eowyn had all she could do not to march over and read—loudly—over his shoulder. When, eyes drooping, Faramir made the move to deposit her letter on the pile with the previous documents, Eowyn's mouth automatically opened to protest. She closed it again just in time to stop herself. Patience, patience, he's just a little tired. He'll notice in a moment. Now she knew exactly how Arwen must have felt. Keep your temper, Eowyn. This supposedly brilliant plan of hers was turning out to be about as perfect as Arwen's had turned out to be.

Well…a little hint couldn't hurt.

"Anything interesting—dear?"

The glaze cleared from Faramir's eyes as he glanced up at her, clearing his throat. "Interesting? Oh…no. Nothing out of the ordinary." He still held her letter in his hand, not quite having made it to the discard pile yet, and he took a second glance at it. He looked back at her, then back at it a third time.

The surprise on his face more than made up for the delay. She regarded his shock smugly, waiting for him to stutter out the first words.

"Eowyn, this is...you mean…that is—you wrote this? We're going to…"

"…Have a baby?" she supplied.

He rose so quickly he almost knocked over his chair. "We're going to have a baby?"

"Well…I've heard babies are often what follow pregnancy."

Faramir clasp her hands in his, excitement flowing through him like a current. This wasn't her bone-tired husband of but a second ago. As a matter of fact, she'd rarely seen Faramir looking this energetic, exhausted or not. "You're pregnant?"

"Well, I'm glad it didn't take you as long as the King to catch a hint," she said wryly, but smiling just as widely.

"The…King?" Faramir asked blankly.

"Never mind. I'm just glad you noticed."

"Oh…I'm sorry it took me so long," he apologized sheepishly. "I was kind of dozing off, I didn't…"

She placed finger to his lips. "Hush. I know you're tired. Just tell me you're happy—that you want a child."

He laughed, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Happy? I'm overjoyed, I'm…overwhelmed. I can't tell you how happy I am."

"You'll make a wonderful father, Faramir."

"Ah, but not so interesting a parent, I'll wager, as you," he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"Are you insinuating I'll be the one to instigate mischief? I'm the mother. Mothers don't encourage things like that," she corrected, not managing for a moment to look like she was even half serious.

He laughed again, pulling apart from her slightly to reach out and cup her chin tenderly. "I love you."

Eowyn just smiled, bursting with happiness to the point of overflowing at the thought of having a child of her own, and at seeing the visible proof mirrored on Faramir's face, expressing the same unbounded joy. She changed her mind there and then. Her plan might not have gone exactly according to what she might have considered perfect, but in the end, everything had turned out perfectly.

The End (but with more, possibly, to come…)

Thank you again, everyone, for all those reviews that encouraged me to make additions on this vignette. If you like this second part, I'm considering doing at least one more, with Lothíriel springing the news on Eómer… -g- If you have the time, I would love to know your thoughts! –points readers oh-so-subtly in the direction of the review button-