Title: The Steward and the Lady

Author: Calenlass Greenleaf

Disclaimer: Faramir and Éowyn belong to Tolkien. I don't own them.

Spoilers: Spoilers for TTT and ROTK, mostly the book, but a few movie spoilers because of events that took place in both.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance/Angst

Pairings: Faramir/Éowyn. In other words, only canon pairings. Bookverse.

Summary: Christmas fic for Roses of Sharon. Written for OAA prompt number 143—Battle. 500 words. An attempt to gain more insight in 'The Steward and the King,' from Chapter V in Book 6 of Return of the King, the third part of The Lord of the Rings.

A/N: Never thought I would write about these two, but Roses of Sharon requested 'shameless, unadulterated fluff just for the pure fun of watching you write it, romance with an angsty ending, and with Faramir and Éowyn as the pairing.' Evil little writer. -Grin- I couldn't do the fluff, but I did the angst, and a lot of it. And I'm very, very sorry it took me so long for me to actually write this, since this was supposed a birthday fic for her last year. O.o

A/N #2: Style of this story is different from my usual style, because this just fitted it better. This one resembles "Tithen Maethor." I blame Roses of Sharon for this. :P But I do apologize if this story seems disjointed in content. So many ideas; I had a little trouble putting them together. I also hope this fic is in-canon, and that I'm not trampling on canon.

Italics are the narrator (Could be anyone).

Finally, thanks to Virtuella for pointing out the typos and to Deandra for her advice.



The Steward and the Lady

One never knew that they would become husband and wife—

They were different in many aspects. He, the scholar. She, a princess. He, quiet. She, bold. He, dark-haired and grey-eyed. She, blue-eyed and golden-haired.

How much more different could they be?

One thing they had in common was that they both were warriors.

They wielded swords, braving pain for the sake of country.

They battled the worst foes that existed in Middle-earth.

They triumphed and became heroes in the world's eyes.

And yet—

They know that some wounds go too deep.

They know the hurt of losing loved ones to war.

They know that the road of healing is oft arduous.

But what they both know is that the path a warrior walks—

Is at times a lonely one.

…tears shed in the dark of night…

…hurts hidden in from the world's eyes…

…grievances that grows heavier with age…

But admist their brokenness, their loneliness, and their captivity, they were brought together.

In her eyes, he was very unlike the men of Rohan. The men she had grown up with were bold and hearty men, with quick tempers and actions.

He was none of these. He was stern and proud, yet she saw in him a gentle spirit that she never knew could be found in a man.

In his eyes, she was fierce and brave. He saw she had great strength and courage. Yet he also saw her heart needed something—

He knew she wanted recognition, something he could not give.

She also wanted the glory of dying in battle, for the thought of sacrificing her life in fighting appealed to her.

But he could not grant this wish.

He knew she also wanted the love of another, a person he could not possibly compare himself to.

And this was also turned away from her.

So he bode his time, waiting for an opportunity to tell her of his heart.

In time, she came to cherish him as a friend. They grew close during their time in the Houses of Healing, brought together by the circumstances.

But circumstances are never chance happenings.

They are encounters to change assumptions.

He knew she did not want pity, for in her eyes, it was reserved for the feeble and the young.

So he did not offer her pity.

While he was no king, and while his courage was perhaps counted less than that of his brother, he could read her heart.

And he offered her something else, something she did not know she had wanted...needed.

She came to realize this.

He offered her his hope.

His love.

And her heart was turned to him.

While she could not die in battle, nor become a queen, she had found something dearer than fame and glory, something she craved more than anything—

She had found peace.

They were still different, in many ways.

But it mattered not to them.

For now they were one.

Faramir, the Steward of Gondor.

Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan.

The End


Notes:

Technically, Éowyn wasn't a princess, even though she was certainly royalty.

The line "some wounds go too deep" is a line that was borrowed/paraphrased from what Frodo says in the movie.

About the line regarding captivity: from the book, Éowyn says that she "cannot lie in sloth, idle, caged," and Faramir says that "I also am a prisoner of the healers."

The line about Faramir's courage counted less than his brothers comes from the Appendices.


Merry Christmas! :)

For my readers: Chapter Ten of Apostate's Ruse will be posted this month or on the new years, once it has been betaed.