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CHAPTER 15

Legends

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In another time of her life, Éowyn would have considered two days on horseback to be child's play. But riding sidesaddle (a relatively new experience) for two days while with child was something she would wish not to repeat in the near future. The babe did not seem to relish the experience either, and Éowyn did not blame him.

But for diversion and occupation she had no lack in the journey, for Mithlomi was quite new to riding. The handmaiden was also riding sidesaddle, for she had insisted that it was not proper for a lady of Gondor to sit astride, though Éowyn thought that ridiculous. Yet for the Princess of Ithilien, it was now a matter of comfort more than anything else. And so Éowyn spent much of her time showing Mithlomi how to improve her riding skills. By the evening in which they arrived at the camp site, she was getting much better at it, though she was also rather sore.

Though Éowyn doubted she needed the help, Faramir dismounted his stallion just inside the camp and rushed to help her down from Alassë. She had ceased to complain about his protectiveness: her condition was plain to everyone now, so Faramir felt he might be exposed to some ridicule if he did not assist her whenever he could. And so she did not object when he helped her down from her mount, nor when he pulled her cloak a little tighter around her. The blue mantle had seemed overbearing at whiles during the trip; but the wind had picked up by the time they arrived, so she was glad of it.

Once Éowyn had both feet on the ground, Faramir kissed her cheek and smiled. "I must help Mithlomi," he said; but as the couple turned to look at the handmaiden, they saw a fair-haired Ranger run up to Mithlomi's horse.

"Allow me, madam," said the young man. The handmaiden looked positively relieved to have help dismounting—a skill which she had not quite perfected—and the two seemed to hold a pleasant conversation for a while, as the rather handsome Ranger offered Mithlomi his arm and then took the reins of her horse in his other hand. Faramir looked down at Éowyn, and the two smiled as they followed with their horses.

From the center of the camp came a familiar figure. The Elf Prince Legolas strode over to them, followed by a retinue of other Elves, and Éowyn saw Mithlomi slow her steps as if in wonder. And Éowyn had to admit that there was something very impressive with the company of Elves. They were all so fair, and yet their beauty seemed naught to them. It was no wonder that Mithlomi reverted to her shell when the Elves were around.

"Lord Faramir," said Legolas, "I am glad you are come."

Faramir stepped away from Éowyn for a moment to clap his hand upon the Elf's shoulder. "It is good to be in Ithilien once more."

"You have come at a good time," said Legolas, "for we believe there will be snow tonight." He glanced at Éowyn. "I would not wish for the White Lady to ride through that, in her condition."

Éowyn dropped her hand down to her abdomen as Faramir placed his arm about her shoulders. Legolas regarded her closely. "How do you fare, Lady?"

"I am well," she replied. "As is the child."

"That is good news." The Elf then turned a smiled to Mithlomi, who had remained at the side of the young Ranger, but had dropped her gaze to her toes. "And you have brought with you Mithlomi," he added. "I am glad of that as well."

Much to everyone's surprise, not the least of which was Mithlomi's, Legolas took the maid's hand and kissed it. A blush rose on her cheeks, and Éowyn struggled to keep back her laughter. There was a look of astonishment bordering on jealousy on the Ranger's face, and at that she did laugh. "You must forgive her surprise, Legolas," said Éowyn, "for Mithlomi is unused to Elven Princes who use courtly manners in the wild."

Mithlomi blushed again and curtseyed to Legolas. "Excuse me, milord. I must see to my lady."

"I would not hinder you," said he; and he turned his attention to Faramir and began to speak of what he and his company had been doing in the woods since he had left Minas Tirith.

In the meantime, Mithlomi stepped away from the Ranger, who yet held her horse's reins, and touched Éowyn's arm. "My lady, do you not think you should rest a while?"

Éowyn looked at her handmaiden and opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly a large, white flake fluttered onto Mithlomi's nose. The girl reached up to brush it away, and then more began to fall. Éowyn looked around to see that the first snow was indeed starting to fall. The beautiful evergreens around them were already starting to gain a tint of white, as if an artist from above had decided to color the landscape with his own form of paint. It would not be long before the ground was covered in the magic of winter.

The Elves looked nonplussed as ever, but three of them stepped forward from behind Legolas and took the reins of the three horses, silently leading them away. Legolas gestured toward the camp. "I am certain you are in need of rest," he said, "and there is tea waiting for you within."

"Thank you, Lord Legolas," said Faramir; and Éowyn took his arm again. To her he said: "Are you cold?"

"No, my lord," she said truthfully. "Not at all."

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By nightfall the snow had stopped, and Faramir and Éowyn had joined the men around the campfires that had been lit for light and warmth. Mithlomi was there as well, keeping silent watch over her mistress, as she ever did. But that night Éowyn was radiant, as if the snow which gave the ground a warm glow had done the same for her.

She was clad in white, as was her custom, and over that she wore the blue cloak which he had bequeathed to her the day the Ring had been destroyed. She seemed to Faramir like a star come down from the heavens, for nothing in Ithilien had her brilliance then. And when she stepped into the night from their tent, with the moonlight shining all around them, she turned to Faramir and said: "I know now why you call this the Land of the Moon."

Éowyn wore a pendant too, one which he had given her two years earlier, not long after their betrothal had been announced and blessed by her brother. It was a crescent moon, once belonging to his mother Finduilas, and now holding the same promise it had held years ago. For Denethor had given it to Finduilas, along with his word that they would someday be able to dwell in Ithilien instead of the city. But she had died young, and that promise was never fulfilled. And so Faramir had given the pendant to Éowyn with the same promise, and he was glad that she had come to love the land so quickly.

Now she was wandering from campfire to campfire, as Faramir stayed with Legolas, Beregond, and Damrod. She conversed easily with the men, which was hardly surprising; nor was the slight sense of awe with which they regarded her. Faramir watched his wife with a smile on his face. It was one of those rare times when meeting a legend did not disappoint, and for that he was glad. The men all deferred to her, and he could tell that it was not simply because of her title, as Princess of this land, but because she was a warrior, proven and true.

Faramir rose then and joined her, slipping his arms around her waist and letting one hand rest upon her abdomen. She looked at him and smiled, and he kissed her cheek. One of the masons sitting at the fire laughed. "Is that the best you can do, milord?"

The Steward smiled and rubbed Éowyn's stomach. "Obviously not, Master Mason."

"Faramir!" cried Éowyn, laughing. But this time when she turned her head, he laid a gentle kiss upon her lips, and she ceased to complain.

Another man at the fire spoke up then. "If you do not think me impertinent for asking, milord, when is the babe expected to arrive?" he asked.

"Sometime in March," he replied.

The babe kicked then, and Éowyn leaned back against Faramir, sighing in contentment. He held her as tightly as he dared, and as the men's attention turned away from them, he whispered in Éowyn's ear: "Are you cold?"

She laughed softly. "No, my lord. But when I am, you will be the first to know."

He looked around a little. "What happened to Mithlomi?"

"That Ranger who was talking with her this afternoon is with her," Éowyn replied, gesturing toward a smaller campfire. "He seems quite taken with her."

Faramir raised a brow. "Do you anticipate needing to find another handmaiden soon?"

Éowyn shrugged. "I do not know. You have foresight, not I."

He released her slowly and took her hand, and the two began to walk about the camp for a time. "The woods are very still tonight," said he, "and quiet, as I have not seen them in some time."

"Do you suspect something?" she asked.

Faramir tightened his grip on her hand. "Not yet."

They paused for a moment, looking out in the direction of the cursed glade. He had more to say, but then Éowyn leaned against him suddenly and yawned. Faramir turned and kissed the top of her head. "I am tired as well."

And then the snow began to fall once more, but Éowyn and Faramir stood in the woods for a long time, content in each other's company. It was not until Mithlomi finally rejoined them that they returned to their tent, which was surprisingly warm, considering how the wind had suddenly increased in force.

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That night, Faramir dreamt of Pelennor.

His dreams rarely involved himself and rarer still involved his past, so he was greatly surprised when he saw the events from his own memory in these dreams. Yet the images did not linger long in that part of the battle. They soon strayed to Éowyn's part among the Rohirrim.

She was more valiant in battle than Faramir had ever imagined; and soon he was watching her battle the Witch-king. It was a tale he had heard many a time and even told, but the tale did not compare to the glory of her victory there. And when she killed the Nazgûl, he seemed to shudder awake, for he had never seen one so desperate and hopeless prevail so mightily.

He opened his eyes, awake at last, and suddenly he realized that Éowyn was no longer beside him.

It was not terribly surprising. She was a light sleeper and was often restless at night, and that night had been no exception. It was likely a combination of the cold and the child she carried, but she had not been easy in her sleep until she had curled up in his arms. Thus had Faramir been kept awake by her turning for some time. He sat up on the bed and looked around. "Éowyn?"

There was no answer.

"Éowyn?" he called again, a little louder; and he lifted the small candle from behind its blind and shone it around the room. Her cloak was where he had put it earlier when he had taken it off her, but her shoes were gone and his wife was nowhere to be found.

Hurriedly Faramir put the candle back on the small table and pulled his shoes and cloak on. He was gone from the tent a moment later, and he cried: "Éowyn!"

At the sound of the Steward's voice, the two Rangers who were on duty turned around. "Sir?" called one, Damrod.

The two hurried over, and Damrod asked: "Sir, what is the matter?"

"Éowyn is gone," said Faramir, walking toward the edge of the camp.

The Rangers said nothing, following Faramir as he ran through the woods. At last he caught sight of footprints in the fresh snow that could only belong to Éowyn, and in horror he followed them as they wandered toward the glade in which so many men had disappeared.

Up ahead in the moonlight was a figure of white tinted with flowing gold, and Faramir knew immediately that he looked upon Éowyn. The fear which had been growing in his heart was suddenly almost paralyzing. He called out to her, but she did not respond. He ran harder, heedless of the fact that he was heading straight for the threshold of the evil of the woods.

"Éowyn!" he cried again, but she did not hear him. And in a moment, she faded into the darkness.

"Éowyn!"

Without thought Faramir ran, until strong hands gripped his arms and pulled him back. "No, milord!" cried Damrod. "There's nothing you can do."

Chest heaving from the sudden exertion in the cold night, Faramir sank to his knees in the snow and raked his hands into his hair, crying out in anguish. Éowyn was gone.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

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