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Sundry Scrolls IV  by Raksha The Demon

V.  Small Victories (Éowyn)

Éowyn’s son and daughter finally sleep, worn out by hours of lessons, riding, berry-picking and play.   Éowyn sits by them in one of the garden’s shady nooks, watching the children’s chests rise and fall in the gentle rhythm of restful sleep.   Elboron sprawls out on the blanket like a lazing puppy, his long legs relaxed and his sun-flushed face turned toward the late afternoon sky.   Míriel’s small body reflects her father’s tendency to sharp, lean lines, elegant even in the deepest slumber.  And like Faramir, Míriel has long, dark eyelashes; the definition of her cheekbones clear in the softness of a child’s skin. 

They are so fair!  The deep well of Éowyn’s love rises until it almost floods her heart.  Oh, if only this moment could last forever!  In just a handful of years, her little ones will grow up and ride away, too old to fall asleep on a blanket beside their mother. 

But that is what she always wanted; that her children stand tall.   So Éowyn drops a light kiss on their foreheads, leans back against the warm tree.   She cannot capture such a happy day the way Faramir sometimes could, in words so beautiful that her heart would leap to hear them.   She did not need to even try.  Your father is the poetry; Éowyn thinks, tracking the play of sunlight and shadow on the children’s sleeping faces.  And you are each a victory as great as any feat of arms.   Through you, I will conquer time.

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