Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Days of the King ❯ Faramir and Eowyn ( Chapter 8 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Queen-of-Blades138 
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 04.20.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 220 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Mystery / Drama / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 04.20.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 220 | Status: Work In Progress
A/N:Here,im updating really quickly for you peoplez....
Disclaimer:Nope...don't own any of it,save some original characters I will
name later
Contact me at: Castlddlv@aol.com
chapter 8- Faramir and Eowyn
Aragorn did want to leave Arwen, and had in fact promised that he
would not until she showed significant signs of recovering from the night
in the watch tower.
But Gimil's news was an intriguing mystery that could become more of a
tragedy if not brought to a swift halt. Five massacres of Dwarves, plus
the raids upon his own folk brought the total of deaths to somewhere near
five hundred souls.
The intruders were becoming emboldened as they remained unchallenged.
But before organized conflict between these raiders (if indeed they were
Southrons or Easterlings) and the armies of the Men of the West occured,
Aragorn as the Great King of Men owed it to the many who had perished and
would perish to know, with certainty, that open warfare had been thrust
upon them.
This would not wait.
As he left Gimli to finish digesting his breakfast, Aragorn walked the
halls of the palace, lost in thought and the logistics of his planned
foray. He found that his feet had plans of their own. He had arrived
at the stables, and took the opportunity to look in on his personal steed.
The stallion Darakar was a magnificent dappled grey, a powerful beast
bred by the horsemasters of Rohan to have the high spirits
and stamina of a real war horse. During their hunts, the animal showed no
fear of blood or foe, be it orc, bear, great cat, or once, a Warg, one of
Saruman's pets still loose upon the land.
Darakar gave a small whinny and a snort of impatience when he saw his
master, and as Aragorn drew near, kicked at his stall door. He stroked
the great animal's head and ruffled his mane.
"I know just how you feel. Very soon, good fellow, we will have a real
jaunt. We will hunt some real game; Easterlings, or maybe if we're lucky,
some Haradrim".
"Well if it is for sport, I could use the exercise!", said Faramir, whose
head appeared above the stall wall down the row. He ambled over to his
liege with a grin and they clapped hands in a warriors greeting. He was
tending his own mount, a splendid chestnut with a great blaze of white on
his forehead and black mane and tail. Although both men were of royalty,
tending to one's own horse was something that no one who rode to battle
would ever leave to another. The bond between horse and rider was frequently
the one that saved the rider's life. That bond had to be built. The man may
choose the horse, but the horse must to some extent choose the man. And to
these proud animals of Rohan, that trust must be earned on a frequent
basis.
"Hunting Haradrim? I have only had the pleasure once, and that was from
ambush. May I ask - is it a campaign in the South or have we found the
raiding party that has been threatening the countryside?"
"It might be the latter, but Faramir - keep this secret for now. I have
news that is imprecise, and I do not want rumors of war to complicate
matters here at home. But as far as your 'exercise' in this circumstance -
would you want to be so far from home now? Isn't Eowyn's time drawing
near?"
Faramir smiled at this, and the battle ready grin of the fighting
man was replaced by the wistful expression of a husband and expectant
father. "She is a self-sufficient woman, Aragorn. I am entirely useless
at birthing time. Her ladies from Rohan handle things quite efficiently;
and I just get in the way".
"Ha! Remind them that without you, none of this would be happening!"
Aragorn quipped.
"As Eowyn reminds me, in such language that you would blush to hear it.
Although, in fairness, she only says such things when she is in labor.
That is why I would gladly be elsewhere at the time!" Faramir laughed.
"In truth, I would dearly love to have at these villians. They are helping
to make the council meetings even more divisive that ever, and if this is
our enemies' way of testing our defenses and resolve, we have only
encouraged them by doing nothing!" here Faramir faltered in his speech.
"I mean no disrespect, my liege, of course the decision of battle is yours
alone..."
Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder. "Never mine alone. All men of courage
and honor should want to fight for their people and their lands. You are a
veteran of many campaigns. You have every right to chafe at inaction when
there are wolves loose among the sheep." Aragon grew thoughtful.
"Boromir was a brave man, and fierce fighter, and I was happy to have his
sword with me through our adventures. He was cut down in his prime, and
I have never ceased to regret losing such a valiant knight. But I have
found his brother to be as good a knight, and a man better than he probably
knows himself. If you can be spared by your family and household, I would
welcome your sword to join mine in this quest. You should probably see your
wife and sons back to Minas Ithil first. I have a scent to track; I do not
yet know where it will lead. I can send word when we know our quarry - be
prepared then to move swiftly. How many men can you muster from your
household without impairing it's security?"
"About 10 men, my lord. Good Men from my old watch in the woods of Ithilien."
said Faramir.
"Then keep this close, return your family to their home, and await further
instructions. It has been a long time since I have tasted real combat -
gods help me, I have missed it! This impending hunt is as wine in my veins!
I suppose that once a Ranger,always a Ranger."
-----------------------------------
Eowyn enjoyed the council sessions. Not that she ever attended; but coming
to Gondor as she did about twice a year gave her a chance to see and buy
luxuries and curiousities not available anywhere else. Oh, she could order
what she would - she was the lady of Minas Ithil, the Tower of the Moon,
and was wed to Faramir, late of the line of Stewards of Gondor. Although
the Stewardship was dissolved upon the arrival of the King, Isildur's heir,
all held the former office in high regard. Faramir was considered more
of a prince than any mere vassal, and the king regarded him as a friend,
and almost an equal.
Eowyn sat at a vanity as she contemplated the finishing touches to her
costume. She was dressed in a gown of rose red trimmed in white. She fussed
a bit with her hair; the whim to change it's style was upon her and would
not be denied. Eowyn settled on a slim golden band with a ruby clasp to
hold her hair off her neck, and little gold pins to hold the curls
suspended. Her handmaid assisted, and soon her golden hair was piled high
upon the crown of her head. She chose small gold and ruby earrings to match.
Carefully, Eowyn surveyed her reflection, and daubed perfume behind her
ears. After a moments thought, she placed a drop in her cleavage and
smiled.
She reviewed her purchases. Perfumes, paints and powders. Trinkets for ears
and wrists and neck. Silly little things, so...womanly. It seemed
a lifetime ago that she chafed under the traditional restrictions of her
sex and had gone to battle, in armor, as a man. She had helped to slay the
Witch King of Angmar and avenged her dear uncle, Theoden King.
Since then, she had had such good fortune, such a wealth of happiness and
love, that the driven, reckless girl she had been seemed like another
lifetime. She had resisted Faramir's advances at first, but circumstances
she did not foresee made the match perfect. Convenience had turned to
respect, respect to liking; like had turned to real affection, and
affection to unabashed, uninhibited love.
Eowyn was madly in love with Faramir.
It had happened after the birth of Theodred Castamir, her first child,
named after her murdered cousin, son of Theoden, and one of the ancient
kings of Gondor.
Faramir had waited so impatiently for news of her health and that of the
child. She had a bad time of it; and lay unconscious for some hours after
the birth. He refused to see the child before she did. He sat by her side,
to make sure he was the first person she saw when her eyes opened, and
then her son was brought to her. As she held baby Theodred for the first
time, he kissed her, and thanked her for the gift of this beautiful boy.
Theodred Castimir had but wisps of dark brown hair and bright green eyes;
he seemed sombre and thoughtful from the start. He stroked the boy's head,
and kissed her tenderly.Then he took the child from her, and left the room.
At first she did not know why he took the baby from her so soon, but the
answer came quickly. From several rooms away, the faint report of a great
shouting and cheering was heard. Faramir had presented his son and heir to
his friends, vassals, and household.
A tremor had gone through her. His unquestioning love had made them, the
three of them now, a family, and the past seemed to have been sloughed
like an old skin.
When he returned the child to her, Faramir's eyes shining, she said for the
first time," I love you." She had never uttered these words before, and
Faramir stood still and silent for a moment. "We should have more children,
so that I can hear that again."
Eowyn had touched his face and stroked his short gingery beard. "I will
gladly have your children, but you won't have to wait until their birth to
hear it." He had kissed her, very deeply, until the faint cry of the newborn
demanding to be fed interrupted them.
She was true to her word. After she healed, her lovemaking with Faramir
was a thing of true joy and beauty. Now that she had shed the past, she
could truly appreciate his love and attention, always lavished upon her,
and it became life to her, like the sun on the grasslands of Rohan. It
nourished and sustained her, and she soon forgot she had ever been so
unhappy.
They were blessed with two more boys, twins Eradan and Thorondir;energetic,
outgoing, and the spitting image of their father at that age. Both possessed
blazing red heads and tempers to match. They kept a small force of
nursemaids very busy. In contrast, Theodred Castamir was a quiet and
obedient child, who stayed close to his mother, and seemed happy in more
sedate pursuits than his siblings. He was interested in herb lore, and
legends of the ancient past of Middle Earth, and loved horses - his uncle
Eomer provided him with everything equestrian, and doted on his nephew and
cousin's namesake.
Minas Ithil was now a place of light and joy with the sound of happy
children and the bustle of a full household replacing the darkness of the
Witch King's occupation.
And now this new baby would be here very soon. Her happiness seemed perfect.
Disclaimer:Nope...don't own any of it,save some original characters I will
name later
Contact me at: Castlddlv@aol.com
chapter 8- Faramir and Eowyn
Aragorn did want to leave Arwen, and had in fact promised that he
would not until she showed significant signs of recovering from the night
in the watch tower.
But Gimil's news was an intriguing mystery that could become more of a
tragedy if not brought to a swift halt. Five massacres of Dwarves, plus
the raids upon his own folk brought the total of deaths to somewhere near
five hundred souls.
The intruders were becoming emboldened as they remained unchallenged.
But before organized conflict between these raiders (if indeed they were
Southrons or Easterlings) and the armies of the Men of the West occured,
Aragorn as the Great King of Men owed it to the many who had perished and
would perish to know, with certainty, that open warfare had been thrust
upon them.
This would not wait.
As he left Gimli to finish digesting his breakfast, Aragorn walked the
halls of the palace, lost in thought and the logistics of his planned
foray. He found that his feet had plans of their own. He had arrived
at the stables, and took the opportunity to look in on his personal steed.
The stallion Darakar was a magnificent dappled grey, a powerful beast
bred by the horsemasters of Rohan to have the high spirits
and stamina of a real war horse. During their hunts, the animal showed no
fear of blood or foe, be it orc, bear, great cat, or once, a Warg, one of
Saruman's pets still loose upon the land.
Darakar gave a small whinny and a snort of impatience when he saw his
master, and as Aragorn drew near, kicked at his stall door. He stroked
the great animal's head and ruffled his mane.
"I know just how you feel. Very soon, good fellow, we will have a real
jaunt. We will hunt some real game; Easterlings, or maybe if we're lucky,
some Haradrim".
"Well if it is for sport, I could use the exercise!", said Faramir, whose
head appeared above the stall wall down the row. He ambled over to his
liege with a grin and they clapped hands in a warriors greeting. He was
tending his own mount, a splendid chestnut with a great blaze of white on
his forehead and black mane and tail. Although both men were of royalty,
tending to one's own horse was something that no one who rode to battle
would ever leave to another. The bond between horse and rider was frequently
the one that saved the rider's life. That bond had to be built. The man may
choose the horse, but the horse must to some extent choose the man. And to
these proud animals of Rohan, that trust must be earned on a frequent
basis.
"Hunting Haradrim? I have only had the pleasure once, and that was from
ambush. May I ask - is it a campaign in the South or have we found the
raiding party that has been threatening the countryside?"
"It might be the latter, but Faramir - keep this secret for now. I have
news that is imprecise, and I do not want rumors of war to complicate
matters here at home. But as far as your 'exercise' in this circumstance -
would you want to be so far from home now? Isn't Eowyn's time drawing
near?"
Faramir smiled at this, and the battle ready grin of the fighting
man was replaced by the wistful expression of a husband and expectant
father. "She is a self-sufficient woman, Aragorn. I am entirely useless
at birthing time. Her ladies from Rohan handle things quite efficiently;
and I just get in the way".
"Ha! Remind them that without you, none of this would be happening!"
Aragorn quipped.
"As Eowyn reminds me, in such language that you would blush to hear it.
Although, in fairness, she only says such things when she is in labor.
That is why I would gladly be elsewhere at the time!" Faramir laughed.
"In truth, I would dearly love to have at these villians. They are helping
to make the council meetings even more divisive that ever, and if this is
our enemies' way of testing our defenses and resolve, we have only
encouraged them by doing nothing!" here Faramir faltered in his speech.
"I mean no disrespect, my liege, of course the decision of battle is yours
alone..."
Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder. "Never mine alone. All men of courage
and honor should want to fight for their people and their lands. You are a
veteran of many campaigns. You have every right to chafe at inaction when
there are wolves loose among the sheep." Aragon grew thoughtful.
"Boromir was a brave man, and fierce fighter, and I was happy to have his
sword with me through our adventures. He was cut down in his prime, and
I have never ceased to regret losing such a valiant knight. But I have
found his brother to be as good a knight, and a man better than he probably
knows himself. If you can be spared by your family and household, I would
welcome your sword to join mine in this quest. You should probably see your
wife and sons back to Minas Ithil first. I have a scent to track; I do not
yet know where it will lead. I can send word when we know our quarry - be
prepared then to move swiftly. How many men can you muster from your
household without impairing it's security?"
"About 10 men, my lord. Good Men from my old watch in the woods of Ithilien."
said Faramir.
"Then keep this close, return your family to their home, and await further
instructions. It has been a long time since I have tasted real combat -
gods help me, I have missed it! This impending hunt is as wine in my veins!
I suppose that once a Ranger,always a Ranger."
-----------------------------------
Eowyn enjoyed the council sessions. Not that she ever attended; but coming
to Gondor as she did about twice a year gave her a chance to see and buy
luxuries and curiousities not available anywhere else. Oh, she could order
what she would - she was the lady of Minas Ithil, the Tower of the Moon,
and was wed to Faramir, late of the line of Stewards of Gondor. Although
the Stewardship was dissolved upon the arrival of the King, Isildur's heir,
all held the former office in high regard. Faramir was considered more
of a prince than any mere vassal, and the king regarded him as a friend,
and almost an equal.
Eowyn sat at a vanity as she contemplated the finishing touches to her
costume. She was dressed in a gown of rose red trimmed in white. She fussed
a bit with her hair; the whim to change it's style was upon her and would
not be denied. Eowyn settled on a slim golden band with a ruby clasp to
hold her hair off her neck, and little gold pins to hold the curls
suspended. Her handmaid assisted, and soon her golden hair was piled high
upon the crown of her head. She chose small gold and ruby earrings to match.
Carefully, Eowyn surveyed her reflection, and daubed perfume behind her
ears. After a moments thought, she placed a drop in her cleavage and
smiled.
She reviewed her purchases. Perfumes, paints and powders. Trinkets for ears
and wrists and neck. Silly little things, so...womanly. It seemed
a lifetime ago that she chafed under the traditional restrictions of her
sex and had gone to battle, in armor, as a man. She had helped to slay the
Witch King of Angmar and avenged her dear uncle, Theoden King.
Since then, she had had such good fortune, such a wealth of happiness and
love, that the driven, reckless girl she had been seemed like another
lifetime. She had resisted Faramir's advances at first, but circumstances
she did not foresee made the match perfect. Convenience had turned to
respect, respect to liking; like had turned to real affection, and
affection to unabashed, uninhibited love.
Eowyn was madly in love with Faramir.
It had happened after the birth of Theodred Castamir, her first child,
named after her murdered cousin, son of Theoden, and one of the ancient
kings of Gondor.
Faramir had waited so impatiently for news of her health and that of the
child. She had a bad time of it; and lay unconscious for some hours after
the birth. He refused to see the child before she did. He sat by her side,
to make sure he was the first person she saw when her eyes opened, and
then her son was brought to her. As she held baby Theodred for the first
time, he kissed her, and thanked her for the gift of this beautiful boy.
Theodred Castimir had but wisps of dark brown hair and bright green eyes;
he seemed sombre and thoughtful from the start. He stroked the boy's head,
and kissed her tenderly.Then he took the child from her, and left the room.
At first she did not know why he took the baby from her so soon, but the
answer came quickly. From several rooms away, the faint report of a great
shouting and cheering was heard. Faramir had presented his son and heir to
his friends, vassals, and household.
A tremor had gone through her. His unquestioning love had made them, the
three of them now, a family, and the past seemed to have been sloughed
like an old skin.
When he returned the child to her, Faramir's eyes shining, she said for the
first time," I love you." She had never uttered these words before, and
Faramir stood still and silent for a moment. "We should have more children,
so that I can hear that again."
Eowyn had touched his face and stroked his short gingery beard. "I will
gladly have your children, but you won't have to wait until their birth to
hear it." He had kissed her, very deeply, until the faint cry of the newborn
demanding to be fed interrupted them.
She was true to her word. After she healed, her lovemaking with Faramir
was a thing of true joy and beauty. Now that she had shed the past, she
could truly appreciate his love and attention, always lavished upon her,
and it became life to her, like the sun on the grasslands of Rohan. It
nourished and sustained her, and she soon forgot she had ever been so
unhappy.
They were blessed with two more boys, twins Eradan and Thorondir;energetic,
outgoing, and the spitting image of their father at that age. Both possessed
blazing red heads and tempers to match. They kept a small force of
nursemaids very busy. In contrast, Theodred Castamir was a quiet and
obedient child, who stayed close to his mother, and seemed happy in more
sedate pursuits than his siblings. He was interested in herb lore, and
legends of the ancient past of Middle Earth, and loved horses - his uncle
Eomer provided him with everything equestrian, and doted on his nephew and
cousin's namesake.
Minas Ithil was now a place of light and joy with the sound of happy
children and the bustle of a full household replacing the darkness of the
Witch King's occupation.
And now this new baby would be here very soon. Her happiness seemed perfect.