While the days of Faramir's stay in Rohan pass all too quickly, and the days between their parting and his return pass even more slowly, still all those days do pass. In another half a year he returns, once again bringing with him high company. Aragorn comes to perform the ceremony, by mutual request of both parties, and he brings with him his wife and both her brothers. Some of the great lords of Gondor come also, those who call Faramir friend as well as Steward, and wish to celebrate his joy. Some come primarily to bear witness to a union that will further bind the ties between Gondor and Rohan.
Eowyn has put almost as much thought and planning into this, the last event she will organize as the Lady of Rohan, as she did into the days that contained her uncle's funeral, her brother's coronation, and the welcoming of the most esteemed and high guests the Meduseld had ever been privileged to hold.
It is a day of great joy for her, but not one unshadowed: leaving a home, even one with such troubled memories, is not an easy thing, and she greatly grieves that her uncle is not living to see her wedded and blissful.
Despite these shades she is radiant, shining in her bridal finery of Eorlingas green and gold, holding Faramir's hands tightly as they exchange their vows, as their hands are ceremoniously bound together with a golden rope shot through with silver, as the bards sing songs of Orome and Vana and their joy in one another. For all their honored company, for all the efforts she herself put into ensuring this day would go without a hitch, once he is before her she has eyes only for Faramir. All the rest of this she arranged less for herself or him, and more for their people, who given the high rank of the couple have their own personal interest in what would otherwise be a private matter.
But for herself...Eowyn holds his hands and stands before the Golden Hall filled to the brim with as many people as it can hold, but she is thinking of a day on a hilltop months before, lying with Faramir in the sunlight, under Eru's sky. In their hearts they are already wed, she knows, and that is why she smiles as she does.
Your wish is my command!
Eowyn has put almost as much thought and planning into this, the last event she will organize as the Lady of Rohan, as she did into the days that contained her uncle's funeral, her brother's coronation, and the welcoming of the most esteemed and high guests the Meduseld had ever been privileged to hold.
It is a day of great joy for her, but not one unshadowed: leaving a home, even one with such troubled memories, is not an easy thing, and she greatly grieves that her uncle is not living to see her wedded and blissful.
Despite these shades she is radiant, shining in her bridal finery of Eorlingas green and gold, holding Faramir's hands tightly as they exchange their vows, as their hands are ceremoniously bound together with a golden rope shot through with silver, as the bards sing songs of Orome and Vana and their joy in one another. For all their honored company, for all the efforts she herself put into ensuring this day would go without a hitch, once he is before her she has eyes only for Faramir. All the rest of this she arranged less for herself or him, and more for their people, who given the high rank of the couple have their own personal interest in what would otherwise be a private matter.
But for herself...Eowyn holds his hands and stands before the Golden Hall filled to the brim with as many people as it can hold, but she is thinking of a day on a hilltop months before, lying with Faramir in the sunlight, under Eru's sky. In their hearts they are already wed, she knows, and that is why she smiles as she does.