There it is again, that warmth in his gaze and smile both, that regard, when he looks at her. She should resent being made feel like some foolish girl with an infatuation -- again -- but there is no falsehood or different meaning in Faramir's words that she can discern. And though her own judgment in these matters has taken a harsh hit in the wake of Aragorn, she's more inclined to trust her own heart, now. Smiling with quiet pleasure, she ducks her chin as they enter the Citadel proper, but draws in a deep breath to prepare herself as Faramir draws them into a halt, turning solemn.
Each choice presents its own merits, and for a moment Èowyn hesitates in thought, glancing down at the main hallway opening in front of them as if to cast her eyes to wherever her uncle lies.
"May we look upon the painting, first?" she eventually requests quietly, perhaps slightly unexpectedly, turning her head to gaze at Faramir again. "I think I would like to see it without a fresh sorrow clouding at my eyes."
For she does not doubt that grief will mingle with gratefulness in her once more upon laying eyes on her uncle's body, as much as she has made her peace with his passing.
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Date: 2018-09-10 12:21 pm (UTC)Each choice presents its own merits, and for a moment Èowyn hesitates in thought, glancing down at the main hallway opening in front of them as if to cast her eyes to wherever her uncle lies.
"May we look upon the painting, first?" she eventually requests quietly, perhaps slightly unexpectedly, turning her head to gaze at Faramir again. "I think I would like to see it without a fresh sorrow clouding at my eyes."
For she does not doubt that grief will mingle with gratefulness in her once more upon laying eyes on her uncle's body, as much as she has made her peace with his passing.