Ithilien is beautiful. Vastly different from Rohan, with its forests, streams and wild green loveliness. Faramir had promised Éowyn a garden in the Houses of Healing; at times, to her, it feels like this whole land is their garden, so verdant and lush it still appears to her, even after a year of marriage. It had taken her a while to get used to her new home, certainly. She was born a child of vast, open plains, and not being able to see the horizon in all directions had been very strange to her at first-- perhaps even a little intimidating, at times.
But now, she can no longer imagine leaving this place, nor the home they have made together with Faramir; a symbol of their union, equal parts of them both. She cannot picture anything more perfect, still wondering at times just how did she ever get so fortunate as to have all this. That garden, always evolving and taking up more space, is not the only thing that has flourished this past year-- Éowyn herself has taken the role of the Lady of Ithilien and Emyn Arnen, along with that of a healer, and made it her own with aplomb, more contented and happy with her situation than ever before. That is not to say she has abandoned her sword entirely. The Lady Wraithslayer is still an opponent not to be underestimated.
All that their bliss together is missing still is a child, but perhaps it is better that had not come to pass before, Éowyn thinks. Even after a year, there is still work left to be done, and a babe in the midst of the construction and development may have been an additional strain. In addition, the land had long been neglected and overrun with evil creatures and outlaws; cleansing it had been no simple feat, and efforts are still ongoing to a degree. But matters are more stable now-- and perhaps soon they would be blessed with an addition to their family. They certainly did their best to make it so, their passion for each other hardly lessened much since their wedding night...
For their first anniversary, they had stolen some time together, away from the demands of being the Lord and Lady for a while. They had once discovered a pretty glade hidden in the woodlands, with a idyllic pond big enough to swim in; that is where their travels have lead them even now.
And here she now stands, at the shallow end of the pond wearing naught but her shift, arms crossed as she surveys the water with deep suspicion written across every inch of her face. Éowyn does not know how to swim. Swimming was not a pastime one engaged in back in the Mark. There was only Snowbourn, and none attempted swimming in its oft frigid, rushing waters where it would have been deep enough. Faramir on the other had is a natural in the water, and had for a while now attempted to persuade her to allow him to teach her this skill-- useful in Ithilien. She has resisted his efforts just as long, the thought of going into deep water wholly unsettling to her.
But last night, caught up in the exhilaration of stealing away with Faramir for a while (and perhaps due to one glass too many of wine) she had finally agreed to give it a try. She actively regrets it now, faced with the reality of the pond before her. The water is clear enough, but she cannot see to the bottom in the deeper end of it.
"Is the bottom muddy? Are there fish or critters in there?" Both things apparently distasteful and undesirable to her; the mighty slayer of the Witch-king.
anniversary shenanigans for Faramir
Ithilien is beautiful. Vastly different from Rohan, with its forests, streams and wild green loveliness. Faramir had promised Éowyn a garden in the Houses of Healing; at times, to her, it feels like this whole land is their garden, so verdant and lush it still appears to her, even after a year of marriage. It had taken her a while to get used to her new home, certainly. She was born a child of vast, open plains, and not being able to see the horizon in all directions had been very strange to her at first-- perhaps even a little intimidating, at times.
But now, she can no longer imagine leaving this place, nor the home they have made together with Faramir; a symbol of their union, equal parts of them both. She cannot picture anything more perfect, still wondering at times just how did she ever get so fortunate as to have all this. That garden, always evolving and taking up more space, is not the only thing that has flourished this past year-- Éowyn herself has taken the role of the Lady of Ithilien and Emyn Arnen, along with that of a healer, and made it her own with aplomb, more contented and happy with her situation than ever before. That is not to say she has abandoned her sword entirely. The Lady Wraithslayer is still an opponent not to be underestimated.
All that their bliss together is missing still is a child, but perhaps it is better that had not come to pass before, Éowyn thinks. Even after a year, there is still work left to be done, and a babe in the midst of the construction and development may have been an additional strain. In addition, the land had long been neglected and overrun with evil creatures and outlaws; cleansing it had been no simple feat, and efforts are still ongoing to a degree. But matters are more stable now-- and perhaps soon they would be blessed with an addition to their family. They certainly did their best to make it so, their passion for each other hardly lessened much since their wedding night...
For their first anniversary, they had stolen some time together, away from the demands of being the Lord and Lady for a while. They had once discovered a pretty glade hidden in the woodlands, with a idyllic pond big enough to swim in; that is where their travels have lead them even now.
And here she now stands, at the shallow end of the pond wearing naught but her shift, arms crossed as she surveys the water with deep suspicion written across every inch of her face. Éowyn does not know how to swim. Swimming was not a pastime one engaged in back in the Mark. There was only Snowbourn, and none attempted swimming in its oft frigid, rushing waters where it would have been deep enough. Faramir on the other had is a natural in the water, and had for a while now attempted to persuade her to allow him to teach her this skill-- useful in Ithilien. She has resisted his efforts just as long, the thought of going into deep water wholly unsettling to her.
But last night, caught up in the exhilaration of stealing away with Faramir for a while (and perhaps due to one glass too many of wine) she had finally agreed to give it a try. She actively regrets it now, faced with the reality of the pond before her. The water is clear enough, but she cannot see to the bottom in the deeper end of it.
"Is the bottom muddy? Are there fish or critters in there?" Both things apparently distasteful and undesirable to her; the mighty slayer of the Witch-king.