A/N: Here is a little epilogue I decided to add after a suggestion made by a reviewer earlier.
Translations for the meaning of 'Elboron' and 'Ithilien' were found from www . tuckborough . net.
I just wanted to thank those of you who've followed this little fic and took the time to review it. I have to admit if it wasn't for the nice reviews I might not have finish this fic as quickly. Thanks again!
Two years of peace had passed, and Éowyn stood in the midst of a blooming garden in spring once again. Only now she no longer felt sorrow, instead only joy and life flowed through her body.
The golden sunlight mingled with her golden hair as the gentle breeze caressed her skin. Éowyn smiled as she gently placed a hand over her slightly growing belly. In five months, Ithilien would have a new prince or princess. Deep in her heart, she knew she carried a son. A son with raven hair and a kind heart like her husband.
She remembered the twinkle of joy in Faramir's eyes when she told him of her delicate condition. He was overjoyed, and a large feast was held in light of the joyous tiding.
Usually the Lady of Ithilien would ride her horse Windfola out each morning, but as of late she had been confined indoors. Sitting by the hearth and needlework replaced her mornings of riding, this did not bother her in the least, but this morning a stroll in the garden satisfied her craving to be out of doors.
Éowyn leaned forward to smell the sweet scent of a fully bloomed red rose and smiled as the sweetness filled her lungs. Her fingers grazed against the soft velvet petals as she stood up straight and her gaze trailed along the blue sky and white wisps of clouds. She wrapped her arms around her body as another cool breeze blew.
Éowyn felt the weight of something draping over her shoulders. She turned to see Faramir placing her starry mantle over her.
"You should not be outside without your mantle. The spring weather is cold, and I do not want you to fall ill, especially in your delicate condition," he said and kissed her brow.
"I have been confined indoors for far too long. I have missed the sun and wind upon my cheeks," she said. "Who would have known that the little Prince of Ithilien would succeed in taming this wild maiden of Rohan."
"Little Prince? Not Princess?" Faramir asked with raised eyebrows.
"I know in my heart that I carry within me a son," Éowyn said as her hand returned to her belly.
Faramir placed his hand gently over Éowyn's hand. "Either a son or daughter, I will love them as much as I love you," he said as he wrapped an arm around his wife's waist.
"What shall we name our first born?" Éowyn asked.
"Since you insist that we are to have a son, what do you think of Elboron?"
"Yes, Elboron, he would be our 'everlasting star'," he explained.
Éowyn smiled. "That seems a fitting name for the future Prince of Ithilien, the celestial moon land."
The Prince of Ithilien and his Lady stood together in the midst of their blooming garden thinking of their blissful future.