Author’s note: This story goes as follows: the Lord Faramir and the lady Éowyn  do not fall in love from the beginning, yet still marry, and then come to love one another as time passes. It is probably overdone, mostly so in Éomer-Lothíriel scenarios - yet I was stubborn enough to write it. I tried to keep to the books as much as possible, to maintain the idea and the atmosphere without using Tolkien's words exactly.

About the format - the chapters (which may vary wildly in length, and will get longer towards the end) will each consist of a scene; they either closely follow the previous one (and are therefore separated by a row of ~~~~~) or are farther away (and are therefore separated by two rows of ~~~~~). And that’s all. Enjoy reading!

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Éowyn of Rohan woke when the sun was high upon the sky that day; but its rays brought only withered light, and did little to warm her way from the night’s dreams. For her hands shook still in fear as the dark image of the Witch-king faded, and her sword arm was as cold as frost on a winter’s morning. Cold it had been at her waking in these Houses, at Lord Aragorn’s hands, and cold it had become once more with his and her brother’s departure; for two days had gone by since the host had passed through the City’s broken gates, as bruised and battered as the walls themselves and just as weary; and since then neither cloth nor fire had brought warmth to her limbs.

And she was weary to lie in bed, and felt without a purpose, having nothing but thoughts of guilt at her uncle’s death to poison her mind and the blood of the Pelennor to plague her memories.

But, as she once more took hold of herself and hid her fears away, she rose her head in looking to the window and saw the remnants of a tower broken by the Dark One’s war; and they glittered in the sunlight, and seemed mighty in their decline as they lay there shattered and untouched; and for a moment she thought to see the body of her brother among paths of stone and rock, bloodied, and broken as the tower, then one after the other all the kinsmen she knew by face, and at the last the Lord Aragorn himself lying beneath his horse, as her uncle had. And then her vision clouded with blood and gore and she fell onto her pillows, her breath a mere whisper, smothered and small.

And as she looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought once more, a grey clothed woman came into the room; in her hands she bore a wooden tray, and upon it were some loaves of bread and cheese and a flagon of water – a breakfast for the lady in her care.

“Good morrow, my lady,” she said.

“Good morrow, Narael,” Éowyn answered, then turned to rise from upon the bed. “Are there no news of the host yet?”

“There are none that I know of, my lady. But, I pray you, do not rise, for you are not yet well.”

“I am well enough to know that one more day in idleness would bring about my end sooner than what ills I still have ever could. And see,” she bade the woman, “I can rise and move, and it does not tire me. Would you not help me dress and walk about the Houses?”

“My lady, I would not. Your brother, the Lord Éomer, has asked that you be tended well, and cared for, and to let you wander the hallways now, when only yesterday it was that you first sat up in your bed, would be folly indeed.”

“I am no doll that I should break, Narael, nor a child to submit so to my brother’s whims, or any man’s! I am healed enough to stand, and move, and walk if I so wish it!” And she let herself fall upon the bed, though not from sickness, but unrest. “This room is torment…” she whispered then, her eyes upon the window and the ruined City before her. “Is there no one I can speak with who can grant my wish?” she asked, her eyes lost in the distance.

“Perhaps the Warden of the Houses, my lady,” Narael answered, clasping her hands before her upon setting down the tray, “for he has highest authority here. But would you not first break your fast? For yesterevening you ate naught, and your mid day meal before that was a light one.”

Then Éowyn looked toward her, although she saw her not, and rising once again she said:

“Nay, Narael, for I care naught for eating. Though I may do so once I see the Warden, and, by his leave, perhaps outside these walls. Now, once again I bid you, bring me some raiment so that I can speak with him and end this.”

“As you wish, my lady, I will not linger,” Narael said, and she left defeated, dark wisps of her hair fluttering behind her as she ran to fulfil her errand. And she was quick indeed, for she returned within the quarter mark, bearing two dresses. “I found only these two that would suit you, my lady. Which shall you don?” she asked.

And Éowyn chose the one grey in colour and simple in cut, its sleeves falling short about her wrists and its skirts plain; for a robe more delicate would perhaps show the Warden only a maiden frail, and she wished him to see her strength, and not be moved to shield her from the world. And so she left her chambers with her arm bound in a sling and went in search of him. Yet she found no answers there, nor tidings of the war, for none had come. And so she followed him to find the Steward of the City, and hoped to meet a man more understanding of her troubles.

~~~~

The winds were silent and the sky was still when the Lord Faramir paused in his walk about the gardens and turned his head eastward to look beyond the walls. The warmth of the sun was upon him, and he felt his breath come light and fresh; but still his heart was heavy, and his eyes were hooded. And for a moment all sounds stilled, and he saw as if in a mirror the white image of the City before him, barren and broken. And in that place there was no other life but him, and he stood upon the walls and shivered in the cold. And he saw a great wave of dark water come toward him from the distance and wash over all; and it engulfed and stole his breath, unmaking even memory. His eyes closed against the darkness and he felt a hand upon his cheek, and with his waking eyes he saw the image of his father, clad in black raiment, his face cold. Then the hand turned to fire where it touched his skin, and the white walls before him took to burning, though they were overrun with water still; and they were consumed anew. And the shadow of his father withered away until only dust remained, and even that was blown in the wind; and the fire took hold of Faramir and charred his clothes, his flesh, his very thoughts; and the world was empty, and he was lost.

But then from the hollow behind him a voice rang forth and called his name; and his eyes were opened to the sunlight once again, to watch the tainted grass in the distance. His sable cloak weighed heavy so that he felt weak beneath it, but still he moved in greeting towards the one approaching. And turning round he saw the Warden of the Houses, and with him a maiden fair and clad in grey; and she stood tall and pale before him with her left arm bound, and he knew then that before him stood the Lady of Rohan, slayer of the Witch-King. And her sight would have moved him to look into her heart, but his vision clung to him still, and the dark wave moved at the corner of his eye and threatened to flow once more, and bring its desolation to the world; so he fought to stand upright and take hold of himself, and hid his pains and worries from his face. And he seemed proud and stern as he questioned the Warden, for his voice was steady and his tone was cold. And Éowyn sought out his eyes, and seeing them distant shut herself away; then, when the older man left from her side, her voice turned harsh as she said:

“My lord, I am weary to spend my time in sloth. The healers would have me lie abed for seven days yet, or so the Warden tells me; but I am healed, and would rather follow my brother to war, into death and glory, than waste away in my room. And better would I love a swift end upon the field of battle than these hours of waiting, for they bear no honour and no worth.”

And she kept her head high as she spoke, while they both seemed as stone standing unmoving one before the other. And they would have understood each other, for they knew the same grief; but the fire burned within him still, and the winter froze her soul, and they were blind to the other’s sorrow, just as they were blind to the other’s heart.

“You do not wish for death, lady,” said Faramir at length, “for if it were so you would have found it till this day, either in the field of battle or in the knives and swords that lie about these Houses. Neither could you search still for glory and songs of praise, for those shall be given to you nonetheless, if any live to sing them. And should you wish to join the battle for your country’s sake and that of your kinsmen your blade could scarcely turn its tide, even if you could reach the Captains, for even now the aim of this last march is not victory itself but stalling the Dark forces; and you are still not well. And should you go to war, and die, you would only bring sorrow to the ones whom you would leave behind in life, if the Dark Lord is purged from this world; but should he conquer all, and should all our hopes be stifled in his grasp, whether you come to death at his gates or at your own would make little difference.”

And at his words Éowyn took pause and wondered at their frankness. But then in a bitter voice she answered: “I see you have given this much thought, lord.”

“I have, lady, from the moment when my eyes were opened by the King’s own hands and I found I could not, in this hour, wield a sword,” he said; and then his voice turned grave and quiet when he spoke again: “Each day since I have spent in the despair that my own men, such that still lived, would leave for dark realms and the breaking of blades, while I dwell here in sunlight and heal, waiting to see the world end or begin anew. Think not that I do not understand your wishes, lady, for they plague me also, in every one of my borrowed breaths.”

And his last words bore much bitterness, and she felt their strike, although his head was turned as he said them; and they both trembled in their wake, for they unveiled what lay in both their hearts, and the truth was heavy to bear.

But then he bowed his head and let forth a silent sigh, and in a softer voice he said: “Lady, I beg you to forgive the harshness of my words, I-”

“No, lord, for they spoke in truth, and so have eased my heart and temper as no words of pity from friend and kin have ever done. And for that I thank you.”

Then there was silence between them, as they both looked beyond the City, where all their hope lay. At length Faramir spoke, and his words were even:

“I cannot release you, lady, for I have not yet taken up my authority within the City, and I am as well a prisoner of the healers; yet even if I had, still I would yield to the Warden’s counsel, for in this he commands over all Men, Kings and common folk alike. Yet I can grant you this, to walk about these Houses at your will, and quit your chambers when it so pleases you.”

And as she saw that he had guessed her wish when she had spoken naught of it she went on in a softer tone, to say: “My lord, my window does not face East. It would bring me some comfort if it did.” And her voice bore none of the shame she felt for asking this, although she saw herself a wayward child to stand before him so; and for it she felt resentment towards him, and her eyes held fire and spark where they met his form. But watching still the bloodied plains he only nodded his consent and said: “Then you shall have it so.”

“I thank you for this much, my lord,” she answered; and doing him a courtesy she left, and did not hear his parting words, nor did she see him turn his head and watch her stalk away, his face telling of his sorrow and guilt, and the wonder that he had spoken thus.

And coming to her room she looked over the City from her window, for one final time; and she thought of its Steward. And she felt then that her hope had been fulfilled only in part, for he had been both quick and wise in his counsel, but not gentle.

~~~~

When the next day came the Lady Éowyn spent its first hours watching the sky change from her window. And she felt weary, for she had found too little sleep in the chamber assigned to her by the grace of the Steward, although it bore no difference from her old one in appearance or design. Instead, the eastern view itself brought her unrest, and her few dreams had been filled with dread.

And so, as morning passed, she sought some refuge in the gardens of the Houses, the welcomed shade of an old tree serving to clear her thoughts. But they once more turned towards the ones who left, and their deaths made their way before her very eyes; and as she wished to be with them when they crossed into a darker realm she cursed the Healers for keeping her restrained and bound to idleness.  

Then her mind turned to the Steward and his words, for she too felt much like to a captive here, and once again she marvelled that he had spoken so unto her thoughts. And more she wondered at his character, that there should be so many sides to it; for the woman tending to her had spoken of him as a man both strong and gentle, wielder of words and blades, and tamer of the hearts of Man and beast alike. Yet the day before she had seen no such things, and, indeed, had thought no other feeling drove him except for bitterness. Proud and distant he had been, and that his people saw him for that which he was not brought her some worry; for it had been the same when she had glimpsed first into the Worm’s intents, but few others had known his ways. And she saw both men before her, with their dark hair and eyes deep and piercing so as to reach within the soul; and their images mingled and twisted together until she thought to see the Lord Faramir strike her down in hatred as she had at whiles imagined Wormtongue do.

But then she cleared her mind and closed her eyes, and took herself to task for thinking thus; for the Worm had never spoken truths, or if he had they had been twisted, while the other had stood before her true, no matter the manner of his words.

Then even as she had these thoughts she saw the Steward himself in the distance, his gaze lost out beyond the walls. And there he stood motionless for many moments, the wind barely a breath threading his hair; and his fist rested clenched at his side, and when he moved away he seemed to draw his breath in pain. And Éowyn knew him to be deep in thought, for even as his eyes were lowered to the ground on which he trod, he nigh stumbled upon her when his steps brought him near. And for a time his face was open as he gazed startled upon her, and she could read all of his weariness and grief.

Her words then came unbidden, not warm, though she had wished them so, but heavy with the burden of some bitterness that she no longer felt.

“Good morrow, my lord Steward,” she said. “Would you not care to sit and take your rest a moment? For I fear you seem ill enough to fall.”

“Good morrow, my lady,” he answered; and he paid her tone no heed, but sat instead beside her. And they both rested in the shade, close in body yet far apart in thought; and they were silent together. Then, as the shining sun moved above them in the sky, she turned her head towards him in study, and saw that his eyes were lined with weariness, and darkened by lack of sleep.

“How dark have been your dreams, my lord?” she asked. “For yesterday you seemed in better health, and stronger;” and her bold words surprised her once again, and made her fear his scorn.

But as he turned towards her she read no such feeling on his face, as, indeed, she could no other. And after a pause he spoke, his eyes upon her, grey and lost:

“In my dreams,” Faramir muttered, “I am alone upon a great hilltop, and the wind blows through my hair. All is quiet around me, and grows still, until even the wind dies and there is nothing to disturb the green plains in the distance. But then the earth moves from its foundations, and the sky darkens; and what air and breath have been around me disappear. From where the ground meets the heavens a great wave comes and covers all. And with it the wind returns and strikes me down from where I stand, and I find myself before the dark water, which towers above me. And then I look down at my feet and see that what lands have been once are now ashes and dust, unmade and broken. Then sound returns as well, in strength and fury, and I am deafened. And the wave crushes down upon me, and I know no more.”

And as he spoke Éowyn thought to see the things he told of in the depths of his eyes, and trembled from the visions when his words ended. And for them she was moved to speak as well, and in a voice more steady than she felt herself to be, she said:

“I am kneeling in a great valley and all around me lie the bodies of my kinsmen. And I know each of their deaths whenever my eyes fall upon them. Time and again I feel it in my limbs, and know I could have hindered it. And then from between the bodies I see the Lord of the Nazgûl rise up, riding his dark creature; and I have no sword or shield to hold him off; and he tears me apart.”

“Our dreams are dark,” he said then, his eyes lowering from some burden unseen.

“They are,” she answered.

“I fear that darker ones will come to pass,” he whispered, though loud enough that she could hear. Then with a nod, his heart hidden once more, he rose and walked away into the shadow of the wall. And watching his retreating form Éowyn wondered how she could have ever thought that no feeling could touch him.

~~~~

Upon the fifth day since the host had left for the Morannon the Lord Faramir walked in the gardens and thought no longer of his dreams, for none had come the night before. Yet his eyes turned ever and anon towards the northern road, and he wished to walk it also. But such a feat was denied him, for his arm was still bound tightly in a sling, and could not be moved for all his trials. The sun shone still upon his face, and he wondered without reason what weather would the Captains have on these days that would be their last, then took himself to task for his dark thoughts. The ones left behind in battle, he knew, had no right to despair, for if they did who would there be to kindle hope and ease the passing into better times? And so he forced his eyes to stray from the boundaries of the City, for gazing upon them he felt no hope could endure; and he looked instead upon the Houses themselves, and thought of the people dwelling there.

The day before he had wandered their rooms for the first time since walking had no longer seemed a daunting task; and he had visited each man from his Company that he had known and lead, and brought them what ease he could. But a night without rest and their own fears, as much as he shared them, had taken their toll, for that evening had found him sitting upon a bench within the gardens, too weary to rise and move to a bed that would only bring unrest. And as he had given in to sleep a child’s body had fallen upon him, a pair of feet had tangled with his own, and a voice had startled him awake, uttering words of forgiveness. And for a moment he had thought himself to be lost in the days of his past, when one of his men’s son had done the same on a summer’s morning; for what would a child have been doing in the Houses at such a time? But opening his eyes he had seen a perian before him; and they had sat together until late into the night, so that the sun had been close to rising as they parted, and Merry – for that was his name – had spoken of his travels. And he had told of Rohan and the dead King who lay in the Hallows, and of the Lady of the Mark and her deeds in battle; and Faramir had learned many things of her and her troubles, more so than the Master Perian had thought to reveal.

His dreams upon their parting had been silent and peace filled, and when he woke he thought of the Lady of the Rohirrim, and understood her sadness better.

For her part, Éowyn had seen more sleep than the Lord Steward, yet the morning found her barely rested, and thinking of the future set before them all. And she donned her dark raiment once again to walk the gardens, for the movement and the green grass soothed her mind.  But she had eaten not, and as Narael begged her to have a sip of wine at least, to wet her lips, the goblet fell as it was pushed away, and her dress was stained.

And in her thoughts she cursed the waste of time and the woman’s fumbling and words of repentance; and she donned her second dress in anger, for it was white, with sleeves which brushed the earth and tangled in her skirts, and its cut showed the pallor of her skin and the grace of her neck, and she had not the heart for such a garment. But still she left her chamber, and climbed to the eastern wall of the City to scour the distance, in search of some sign she knew not of.

And so it was that when the Lord Faramir saw her she was gleaming in the sun, her hair unbound fluttering in the soft breeze; but when he went to her she seemed weary and grave. And they sat and stood together and watched the East, and they were silent for the most part; and when they spoke their words were strained. For she did not desire the speech of men, and would have quit his side; but her room was barren still and it closed around her, and the view it gave was bleak and dreary, bringing neither news nor change. And she had need of his words, for their sound and lull bound her to the world of living once again. So she let him speak, and he went on fighting the silence, as he could not fight another, though it pained him to speak of little things, and to see her pale figure next to him, as still as stone, made his heart ache. And he would have pitied her, had she been more open in her heart, for he could read her pain, and knew it well, for he too shared it; but instead he only wished her well, and needed her to heal, if they should live upon the ending of the War, for they had passed under the same shadow, and if she could be well again then so could he.

~~~~

Night had fallen upon the White City and the ones within had retreated to their homes, away from the cold wind that had started to blow with its coming. No stars shone overhead and the darkness seemed to take hold of the land, picking away at the already feeble hopes left in the hearts of Men. The Lady of Rohan stood before the rising of the weather, a speck of white dust in a blackened world, and shivered in the cold with every breath of wind; but she felt it not, and did not stay her gazing in the distance.

She was alone. And, should the War end, her brother might not return to her, but be returned to her, his lifeless body bore in honour by the strength of the Riders. And he would take his place into the Earth, and start another line of mounds in the great barrows, and simbelmynë would grow upon his grave and bloom from the tears she would shed upon them. She would lead her people into the next days, be they dark or blessed, and whether the House of Eorl would end with her or not, there will be no love to warm her soul. Her life would be barren with the death of all her kin; and she would be left behind once more.

These dark thoughts lay heavy upon her heart, and for once she let them play before her eyes, for she was weary to do battle with them. And in the dark night she wept a silent tear, and it fell down her cheek, but she did not feel it turn cold from the wind. And she despaired.

But then she heard a step behind her and turned away to dry her face. And when she was once more composed the Lord Faramir took his place to her right, looking into the night and not towards her; for he had known her plight and wished to bring her ease. And so he had approached her with steps too light for her to hear, and seeing her grief thought not to shame her, but with a sound he made his presence known, and gave her pause to hide her sorrow. And now, at her side, he began to speak to her as he had the day before, meaning to drown her thoughts away. But his words could no longer do so, for she was closed to them and her eyes only saw within herself. So he asked her of her lands, as he never had before; for they had not spoken of the lives they left behind, knowing the past could have no future, and that to speak of it seemed akin to bringing doom upon them. And she gave each of his questions answers, and spoke of her home so that he could see it before his eyes, but asked no questions of her own.

“My lady,” he asked at length, “how did you come to be on the Pelennor?”

“Do you mean to ask what winds blew me hither, or how I came to know the way of the sword?” asked Éowyn, a challenge in her voice.

“The former, lady, for I know of the shieldmaidens of Rohan. And I do not doubt your skill,” he answered evenly, then turned his eyes toward her.

“Would it then not be sensible to think that I rode with my people, my lord?”

“It would,” he nodded; “still, I am moved to say that you have come in hiding, although what cause you had for doing so are lost to me.”

“Aye, you are right in that, my lord. I came indeed in hiding, and brought great grief and suffering to living kin when I was found broken among the dead and in the midst of battle. And I was driven by despair and by a wish for death, and for it I abandoned all – my duty to my people forgotten, though I believed I would be fighting in their name; yet when the time came in the end I could do naught to save my King and Uncle.”

“Speak not of such things, lady,” Faramir said, and it seemed to him that she shone with starlight, although no star was out that night, and he saw her as distant and fair as he thought the Elves to be.

“When should I speak of them, lord? To whom? For there are none to share my thoughts save for the cold and barren walls of my chamber which drown my screaming in the night.”

“And I say you speak to me, and should do so for both your sake and mine. I meant no interdiction, lady, but I would have you not give into such despair. Come, let me hear what grieves your heart this hour, if you will, for it may lighten once you speak of it.”

And she looked at him then, for the first time that night, and seeing the care in his eyes she was at last moved to speak from her heart; and she told him of her troubles, from Gríma’s watchful gaze to her uncle’s bewitchment, to then end with her duty to be leader to her people in his wake, and how it battled with her wish to not be left forgotten, unseen, unused. And her words were bitter and hung heavy with the guilt that she had deserted her own.

For many moments Faramir was silent, gazing at some lost sight, far from the reaches of his eyes; but then he shifted next to her and spoke softly, so soft that she first thought to hear the winds speak, or the heavens themselves.

“It is a strange thing, I think, that you should renounce duty to die, when others would do so to live. But speak not of your actions with such scorn, my lady, for being on that field you brought to an end a creature ages old in years and malice, and so saved the lives of many. And should the King of the Mountains have kept to his vow many lifetimes ago, our own King would now have had no army of wraiths to aid the City in its darkest hour.” And at this he turned towards her. ”Even the smallest deed may bring its share of good and evil; let us wait for the end to pass judgement.”

And with his words her anguish eased, although it did not pass in all; and she at last took notice of the winds as they blew about her, of the coldness of the night, and her own trembling. And though her right arm was cold still, it was not numb, for she could feel the Steward’s cloak as it brushed against her fingers. And with her silent nod they both turned to the Houses, and they went to their rooms and to their rest.

~~~~

Peace had found them both during the night, and it seemed to them that this respite from weariness was but a gentle gift to let them gather forces before the final battle fell upon them; for, with the morning, the light had failed to come as strong as yester days, and the Sun lay covered by a cloak of mist and cloud. The northern wind which before had soothed their sleep now blew in earnest and seemed to turn from friend to foe as they shivered underneath their raiment. Still there were no tidings, and they watched the distance from upon the wall, searching for signs unknown to them; and their hearts were heavy and dark as the sky.

“The Light is loosing its strength,” Éowyn said, and felt the cold creep upon her skin even beneath the cloak she wore; the robe, blue with the colour of the sky upon a summer’s night and set with stars about the hem and throat, had been wrapped around her by the Steward’s own hands as she could not close the clasp herself, and it fell heavy but softly along her arms.

“Darkness has come, and we have slept through its coming,” Faramir answered, and his eyes roamed the heavens where they touched the earth. “Yet the Enemy is awake, and his Eye is all-knowing.” And with the corner of his eye he saw the lady by his side, and how the cloak around her swayed softly in the wind, its stirring soothing; and he knew not why he had brought it to her, this, his mother’s cloak, an heirloom of his younger days. The world as he knew it was soon upon its end, either in joy or bitterness, and he thought it a gesture of renewal, to bring the past into the open and be done with its shadows. Still, why to see her wear it would warm his heart so, even in the cold around him, he could not say.

“Does not his Black Gate lie yonder?” she asked, her gaze upon the northern road and the grey lands before her. “And should they not have reached his realm by now? For seven days have passed since they rode away.” And she remembered the faces of those who had left, and the burning eyes of two men, two Kings, bore into her and left her weak with worry. For if the Lord Aragorn fell these lands would be wasted, and her heart would weep; and if her brother died she would be lost.

“Seven days,” said Faramir, “all filled with doubt and weariness. And now that the waiting is soon to be over some would want them to last the more.” And he turned his face back towards the City for a moment, to watch a man flee to his house in hiding. Then he returned to that which spread beyond the City and spoke once more, his voice even. “But the end must come,” he said, “and will; and it shall play before our very eyes to give us answer, be it light or dark.”

“But could the end be light? For there is such darkness before me,” said Éowyn, and her eyes were shadowed, while her hands trembled from the cold; “and I cannot say whether there is any light behind. I fear we wait for the stroke of doom,” she whispered, and he gave a nod and said no more.

And they both stood watch upon the wall, and where once their robes moved in the wind now they fell still; and they felt the wind as it died and sound as it paused. And with it the light of the Sun paled even more, and the day seemed to stand on the brink of night. And above the mountains in the distance they thought to see another mountain grow, vast and made of darkness, and moving like a great wave to cover the world. And with its sight their hearts forgot to beat, and their breaths were hushed in the towering silence. Then in the movements of the lightning which flickered above it they felt the earth and the walls of the City quiver, and their hearts beat once again.

“It reminds me of Númenor,” Faramir said, and started to hear his own words in the silence around them.

“Of Númenor?” said Éowyn, and turned towards him.

“Yes,” he answered, his eyes grey as the sky and widened in wonder of what he saw “of the land of Westernesse that foundered beneath the waters of the Sea.”

“The dark wave that you spoke of?”

“Darkness Unescapable. I often dream of it.”

“And you think that it is coming? That the end of days is come?” she asked in a voice grave and cold as the air around them, and they both drew close one to the other.

“Nay,” he answered in soft tones, “for it was but an image and a thought. I do not rightly know what these dark tidings mean. For, though reason tells me that a great evil has befallen these lands, my limbs are light, and my heart is full with joy that cannot be denied by reason. No, White Lady,” he said then, and turned his face to hers, “I do not believe this darkness will endure,” and his eyes were bright and shone with hope and trust.

And so they stood upon the walls of the City of Gondor and waited for the reckoning to come. And the wind took life once more and drew its breath in full, and their hair mingled raven and gold as they held each other close. And they saw the Shadow retreat and the Sun break through the clouds to make the waters of the Anduin sparkle with silver, and they felt its warmth renewed as it shone upon them. Then from the City they heard songs of joy, and they joined them in their hearts, and smiled and laughed together, and were saddened no more. And they remained in their place of waiting until not long past the middle hour of the day, when a great Eagle came bearing news of hope beyond hope, which was at last fulfilled. And as they raised their hands to the heavens, in greeting and thanks, they saw that their own had joined, though they knew not when; yet with the joy and relief that bloomed into their hearts they spoke naught of it.

~~~~