The Morning Star

There were several things that were postponing Faramir and Eowyn's wedding. The most significant was Faramir's elevation to Prince of Ithilien. Though Gondor and Rohan were natural allies and the match was politically excellent, his new title came with responsibilities that made setting a date nearly impossible. The ruined city and the traditional mourning period of Rohan also contributed to the postponement, causing doubts to flicker across Eowyn's mind like angry fireflies. Was the postponement a sign from the heavens that her marriage with Faramir was not meant to be? Did she actually love Faramir as much as he deserved?

There was also the small problem of Aragorn. By this time, Aragorn and Arwen had already married with all due pomp and circumstance at Minas Tirith. Though her infatuation had faded, Eowyn felt the temptation to compare her relationship with that of Aragorn and Arwen keenly. It didn't help that the two couples were in such similar positions of power to warrant comparisons being drawn by their respective subjects. Not a day passed when Eowyn didn't hear whisperings over whether or not Arwen or Eowyn was more beautiful. Occasionally, she would hear children taking bets on who was the most likely to win in a swordfight: Faramir or Aragorn?

Eowyn wondered if Arwen felt the tension. It was a rare occasion when the two couples did get together and when they did, Arwen was far too busy playing hostess to pay much attention to Eowyn. If only we could talk, Eowyn often thought. I'm sure she's going through the exact same thing. But did Arwen experience the same emotions as humans? She was once an elf-queen and she still carried herself with the same simple majesty characteristic of her father. Her hair cascaded down her back in ebony sheets, and her perfect lips, curved like a hunter's bow, waited patiently to be answered by Aragorn. Those hands, soft and shapely contrasted almost to the point of pain with Eowyn's stained and hardened palms. Oftentimes, when Faramir took Eowyn into his arms and her hands naturally reached up to touch his face, she would stop half-way for fear Faramir would feel the difference.

"Something has been troubling you, my love. What is it?"

Faramir's voice broke her reverie like an arrow meeting its target. Suddenly she realized where she was. They were standing in the courtyard under the weeping willow. Faramir had met her there after breakfast, not on the express invitation but on intuition. Eowyn looked deeply into those gentle pools of amber and immediately her heart melted. Her unshed tears came rushing back like a siege. Faramir didn't exclaim or protest at her answering his question with this sudden outburst of emotion. He only pulled her into himself and rested his chin upon her head, as was their custom. His soft robe felt like a meadow of milk on Eowyn's cheek. When she could finally put words to her tears, Eowyn said,

"I'm afraid I can never equal Arwen." When Faramir failed to respond, she continued, "In word, deed, looks, charm, in everything. She is Evenstar, the prize of the Reunited Kingdoms. I am just a lady of Rohan, incapable of saving my uncle from -" Eowyn could go on no longer. The tears had turned to earth-shattering sobs.

Faramir quietly stroked her golden head, smiling at her fears. Could she really not understand the depth of his love, the chasm he would gladly cross to be by her side at the end of every day? He thought of Boromir, the rivalry his father so eagerly encouraged with his blatant favoritism. Love before Eowyn meant gleaning some semblance of favor from Denethor. Love before Eowyn meant stepping aside for Boromir. It wasn't until the Houses of Healing that his understanding of love was transfigured in the light of sacrifice. Faramir took his White Lady's face into his hands and lifted it up to his own. Her beautiful ocean eyes looked up at him and for a long moment, they stared at each other, overwhelmed by the intensity of their admiration and respect. A single tear slid down Faramir's cheek. Eowyn let her hand come up along the back of his neck and with her thumb brushed it across his cheekbone. Faramir finally found the words.

"You are the shieldmaiden of Rohan. You are the slayer of the Witch-King. You are my Morning Star, you are more dear to me than life itself. You are my Eowyn."

"And he took her into his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many."

-J.R.R. Tolkein