Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I just play in their world.

I have never seen Elves before, aside from Aragorn's companion Legolas. They never had reason to journey to Rohan. I'd heard stories of their beauty, wisdom and grace, but I did not expect it to be so overwhelming. Now they are here, in Gondor, silently watching Aragorn's coronation. They carry banners of silver and white, dressed in fine raiment's and speaking softly amongst themselves. My eyes scan the ageless faces and suddenly like a beacon my eyes rest upon the most exquisite creature I've ever seen.

She is beautiful, in her gown of green and silver. Her hair is as dark as night, and her eyes are the color of the evening sky. They sparkle as though they hold brilliant starlight in them, as though she knows all the knowledge of the world and it has not caused her hurt. There is hope in those eyes. She is graceful, even for an Elf. She hardly steps upon the ground as she walks. The others near her are nothing like her. They are light, but still dull in her luminescence. It is though her pale skin is woven through with silver thread. I cannot draw my eyes from her. She walks forward, carrying one of the banners and looking at the ground. Lord Elrond walks behind her, a hand upon her shoulders. I wonder who this elf could be, to be regarded in such a fashion by the Lord of Rivendell.

Faramir touches my arm, drawing my attention away from the elf- maid. I look at him and smile. He returns the favor and turns back to greet the Aragorn, newly crowned and regal in his attire. Comparing the two men is not wise, I realize. I love Faramir. He is a good man, a good choice. He will make a good husband. But when I gaze upon Aragorn, a warm rush courses through my veins and I am speechless. He is the most striking man I've seen, and after our first meeting I would lay awake at night, thinking all manners of impure thoughts that an unmarried woman should not have for a man who cannot love her in return. It was painfully apparent I loved him. Even my dear uncle saw it. Aragorn did as well, though he was caring enough to ignore my more blatant displays of love, to ease the discomfort of my plight. I should have realized then that I would never own his heart. While I still desire him, and I still find myself fighting consuming feelings for the man, I will try to quell them and reserve such feeling for the man I shall tomorrow call husband. I reach out a hand and stroke Faramir's cheek. His eyes dance and he kisses my palm, and I am happy.

Aragorn walks by me now and smiles at my intended and I. I know that he is happy for us, but despite his joy at our happiness there is loss in his eyes. It is as though he is missing something when he looks upon the two of us. We spoke, those many days ago, of his own love, though at the time it shattered my already brittle heart. A woman who was leaving Middle- Earth to join her kin. I felt for him then, and still now I feel pity for such a man, doomed to lose his one true love to a destiny greater then his own. Such a man is worthy of love. I hope one day he might find someone to fill his heart and restore his soul.

He is kingly. As he walks, I see that he has come into his own. He became the man he was born to be. And I am proud of him. I smile as Legolas approaches him, and the two friends enjoy the brief respite from ceremony. They regard each other happily, content with the other's presence and the bond they shall share forever. I smile for them. The Elf has been a good friend. Aragorn is blessed to have such a companion to help him endure such hardships.

Something draws me attention away from the two friends. The striking elf maid suddenly appears behind Legolas, though her heavy banner hides her from the view of both elf prince and king. I cannot imagine who this elf is. To be allowed so close to the King, and to be regarded so well by Lord Elrond.....she must be presenting a gift to Aragorn.

Legolas stands to the side, and Aragorn proceeds to walk forward. I watch curiously as he views the banner, wondering what is occurring. I must admit I myself am confused. Faramir must be as well. I looks at me, his eyes crinkled and a questioning look gracing his young features.

"What do you suppose is happening?" He whispers down into my ear.

"I am not sure, my Lord."

Aragorn reaches a hand out to brush against the banner, and slowly the elf emerges from behind it's silver trimmings. There are no sounds, only the soft breeze and the heavy breathing of the crowd. Some gasp at the beauty of the elf, and I notice the other members of the fellowship smile with hidden knowledge. Looking back at the elf, I see glittering tears form in her eyes, and she releases the banner into the arms of another. She moves slowly towards Aragorn, who also appears to be drawn to her. They look at each other, and suddenly a realization strikes me.

It is her.

She is here.

She did not take the ship into the west. I turn that thought over in my head, and when I look back up from the ground, I can see the disbelief in Aragorn's eyes. He moves against her quickly, desperate to touch her, and he catches her lips in a passionate kiss. I watch, shocked, and can barely hear the cheering of the zealous crowd behind me. Faramir and I watch as the two embrace, unable to truly believe the other is there. A lump in my throat constricts when I see tears in the eyes of Aragorn. Such love I've never seen. I was a fool to think I could affect him in this way. I see now that his heart was always hers. It was never mine for the taking.

Feeling shameful I lower my gaze. I cannot bring myself to watch their reunion. I cannot stand to see the look on Elrond's face. She must be his daughter. No man would look so happy or so lost at the same time as a man resigned to watching his daughter be wed to such a man, or even any man at all. The elves cheer and clap at the passionate lovers. I slip away from the din. I cannot look upon the face of the woman I tried to replace. I sigh as the sounds of the celebration grow fainter, and I find myself a quiet little spot in the palace halls, where I sit and watch the sun grow fainter and lower into the west. When I feel gathered enough to join the feast, I rise from my seat and walk through the guarded halls to the throne room.

There are so many people in the room I can barely move. I scan the room and see the King and my betrothed, laughing and speaking. With a heaviness on my heart unlike any other, I make my way to them. It is not until I reach them that I notice Aragorn's beloved standing at his side, his arm wrapped about her waist. Faramir sees me emerging from the crowd, and rushes towards me, gathering me in an ambrace and swinging me around. I smile a small grin at him and he kisses my nose as he lowers me back to the ground.

"Such a day, Lady Eowyn! I thought you lost and sought to search you out, but this boastful king said you were more then able to defend yourself, and thus would not grant me leave to find you." Faramir laughed as he kissed my hand, and with a glint in his eye he winks. I laugh genuinely, and look at Aragorn, though at all costs I avoid looking into the elf-maid's face.

"Ay, Faramir love. Aragorn is right minded to know my abilities. In time you yourself will learn that I possess many strengths, one being self- preservation at all costs." I look back at my intended, and in explanation say, "As I told Lord Aragorn once before, the women of Rohan learned that those who do not fight by the sword can still die upon them. Unfortunately, none were willing to let me prove myself except Aragorn. It is just that he knows my skill and does not see it necessary to keep me watched over." Faramir's face falls a slight bit, and to soothe his wounded intentions, I kiss his cheek. "But I do appreciate your concern." His face brightens, and he turns back to the King as he laces hand with mine.

Caught up in their circle, I cannot avoid her now. Braving it, I look at her and at this close distance she steals my breathe. Aragorn, I notice, is also struck by her proximity. They stand so closely, I doubt air could get in between their bodies. She is tall and slim, and I suddenly feel short and rugged. Her skin is like silk, her hands smooth and uncreased. In her presence I feel a stable maid. It is no wonder she captivates Aragorn so. She meets my eyes and in them I can see boundless love. Aragorn breeches the distance between us and motions to me.

"Indonya, this is Eowyn, niece of King Theodan of Rohan and sister to Eomer. She is set to wed my steward at the setting of tomorrow's sun." Looking at me, Aragorn says simply, "This is Arwen, the Evenstar of the Elves, and daughter of Lord Elrond."

I curtsey, feeling clumsy and graceless. How does one strive to impress an Elf princess, afterall? She lowers her head, indication of my status, and speaks.

"Mae Govannen, Eowyn, daughter of Eomund. Stories of the white lady's brave deeds have reached even this elf's pointed ears. I must pay my respects to the one who was able to defeat in combat the leader of the nine." Her voice is soft and smoky, and it sounds like music. With every passing instance I feel more a classless wench in comparison to her imposing presence. I find myself wanting to hate her, but there is something about her that makes it impossible. It isn't even that she has Aragorn. She is just simply too intriguing.

"Thank you, m'lady." I nod and search for something more to say. I stammer, "Will you be staying long in the white city?" Though I already know of their answer, my thumping heart does take some small measure of joy at the passing look of love and excitement Aragorn and Arwen share.

Aragorn smiles at me, and announces joyously "We're to be wed on Midsummer's day! It has been too long since Gondor had a King, but just imagine her joy at a new Queen!"

I smile and force myself to be happy for them. No doubt I shall be hesitant around Arwen for the next few days to come, but I must try to do my best to accommodate her now that she is to marry the king. Taking her arm, I stand beside her, and with a lightness in my voice, proclaim:

"Midsummer's day? So soon! We must see to it that you are prepared and well equipped with everything you shall need. As I myself am marrying Gondor's stewards tomorrow, I can understand such a rushed process." She laughs at this, a small sound that seems to ring through the hall, at least to my ears anyway. It is a clear laugh, but one that denotes slight undertones of nervousness and girlish innocence. I smile once more, this time feeling more sincere in my attempt. Aragorn and Faramir smile at the two of us, and no one could mistake the devotion and love on the king's face as he watches Arwen giggle.

Perhaps it will not be so hard to accept this very sudden change. I can not imagine growing to know this elf and disliking her, but we shall see how things course themselves. I gaze at Faramir, and while I have yet to feel that all consuming passion for him that I felt for Aragorn, I can see the same devoted look in his eyes when he stares at me. And deep inside, I can feel a gently warmth spreading through me. I release Arwen's arm, and watch as Aragorn sweeps her up in an embrace. Faramir comes to stand beside me, and kisses my lips gently. I smile and return the kiss. I lean into him and close my eyes, as he whispers into my ear, "Would I be too forward if I were to admit I am excited about tomorrow?"

I giggle, and look up at him, his eyes blue and bright and dancing. "No, because I myself am more then a little excited." He smiles widely at me, and kisses me again. "Well, good", he murmurs and draws me closer. Over his shoulder I see Arwen and Aragorn retreating into the crowd, and though I had no envisioned myself where I now stand, I do not have any more reservations.