A Love Profound
by Orangeblossom Took
Eowyn gently stroked her sleeping husband’s black hair as she reflected
on their wedding day. The spring day and the ceremony itself had been
beautiful. Despite the gentle glow the food, drink and company created
in her, she could not sleep. She remembered her initial rebuff of him
and winced in pain at the recollection. She then smiled ruefully and
almost laughed at herself. As a shield-maiden, humor at her own expense
or self-mockery would never have occurred to her but those days were
gone.
If someone had told her that she would have gazed at another blissfully
while Aragon pronounced her and the Steward’s younger son man and wife,
she would have cursed them for a fool. She had, in fact, stood by
Faramir and applauded while Aragon kissed his Elvish princess at his
coronation. Her desire to die if the future King of Gondor wouldn’t
have her had been revealed as the basest pride and vanity.
It was ironic in the most glorious way that her grave beloved had
overcome her infatuation with Aragon and, as solemn as he was, had
taught her how to laugh. She knew her love was older than Eomer but he
looked younger. She remembered Aragon telling her that he was in his
eighties. Faramir also had the blood of Numenor running in his veins.
She wondered if he would live as long as Aragon and if she would cause
him further pain by dying before him. The Rohirrim were short-lived in
relation to some of the men of Gondor.
She restrained an impulse to stroke Faramir’s cheek. She didn’t want to
wake him in these wee hours of the morning but her fingers itched to
trace his high cheekbone and porcelain skin.
“Uncle,” she whispered to herself, “I am smiling again. I want you to know that.”
Faramir stirred in his sleep and made a small, distressed noise. Eowyn
knew what had happened must cause him nightmares but, as this was the
first night she had spent in his company, this was the first time she
had her suspicions confirmed. She knew she still had nightmares about
the Witchking. That was one of the reasons she had trouble sleeping.
When tears began to stream down Faramir’s cheeks, she held him soft and
close. She could sense his tears cease and his body fall into a deeper
rest.
Eowyn held her new husband and watched out the window of their room
until she could see the trees become outlined in dark silhouettes and
the color of the sky change from obsidian to a dark blue as the sun
approached the horizon.
She whispered to herself again and said, “I am very happy, uncle.”
