Title: Healer and the Hawk
Author: Glamor Ceredir (GlamorC)
Author's Email: glamorc@yahoo.com
Pairings: Arwen/Éowyn
Rating: NC-17
Summary:
  Shortly after the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen, Éowyn receives
a strange message which turns out to be sent from Arwen, apparently
asking the help of Éowyn. All is not well with Arwen. Éowyn, having
problems of her own to escape from, decides to find out exactly
what has happened in Arwen's life recently.

Author's Notes: 

* Bragright 2004 (16th of January) Glamor Ceredir.
* Heavy duty - revision on 31st of March 2004

  Any comments, questions and healthy criticism are more than welcome. Don't 
hesitate to send email. I will attempt to answer them, at least when it comes to 
questions. 
  Visit http://www.geocities.com/glamorc/ for a collection of magnets and 
repulsors.
  I recommend that you read through this story (if you are eligible to do that, 
ie. of correct age) before studying the "journal" about making this story. 
 
Thanks go to: 

-  Aeuneus for splendid beta feedback, which made me ie. realise(!) what the 
terms "beta" and "beta reading" actually mean.
-  All fellow (LoTR) slash fans, authors and other artists: for inspiration, 
kind words and more. You may or may not know who you are. I feel teary-eyed 
still ;)
- Fellows at LoM and Yahoo's femslashlotr.

Disclaimer/Warnings: (!!!)
  The content you are now viewing is rated as NC-17, meaning that no minor 
should view it. Also, some people will find LoTR (which was created by JRR 
Tolkien) SLASH offensive, even objectionable. I understand why. To accomplish 
this story, I had to twist the charecters you love ("just a bit"), and that may 
be hard to swallow. 
  This is a work of fiction, a piece of non-profit LoTR-inspired slash 
fanfiction, to be precise. If you are unfamiliar with the term SLASH, you should 
probably not read any further. When you look into a well (or create one), it 
looks back. This story has lots of smut in it, and I had no guts to take it off. 
So, if you are NOT into that kind of stuff, avoid Chapter 6 at all costs.
  There is also some mild violence in this story, leading to the death of a non-
canon charecter.

  In closing, however... if you enjoy any aspect of this story, please think 
kindly about me. ( Thank you, Francois Rabelais. I have made a toast for you 
too! )  

  For all the trickster gods... and for the goddesses of fertility. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Healer and the Hawk"


original text written by Éowyn of Rohan
edited by Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire
(That's Merry to friends, which means just about everybody in the Shire)



	A few words from the editor:

  My dear reader! This (not entirely edited) manuscript you now hold is the 
story of lady Éowyn, not mine *). 
  She has kindly put her story on these pages. I have the honour of editing and 
perhaps publishing it openly in the future. That is my hope. (Of course it will 
be my duty and a challenge to turn a real story into fiction. I would not want 
to violate Éowyn's trust and privacy any more than I am doing now...)   **)
  By holding this very title in your hands means that you have already met me 
and received my explanations about the meaning and the nature of this story.
And, of course, you have been given a permission to read this story, as this 
copy is for your eyes only! Do not ever take this as a sign of mistrust, and I 
know you won't - once you've read it all. 
  If you have got your hands (however pretty they are) on this stack of 
papers without asking me first, I obligate you to seek me out and return this 
treasure to me. If you still want to read this story, we can discuss it over tea 
(with honey). Be aware of that this story goes into much detail about the recent 
life of the author, lady Éowyn. 
  The cowardly attack against our Shire is still fresh in our memories. This 
lady Éowyn was one of those whose actions have helped us, directly or 
indirectly, to reclaim our home. We will NOT use her willingness to share her 
tale against her or anyone else! 
  Lady Éowyn has opposed the forces of Sauron, and his late servant, Saruman, 
the same wizard who perished in the end of our campaign. It was Éowyn who slew 
the Witch King of Angmar (I witnessed it myself), the Nazgûl who stabbed master 
Frodo Baggins. 
  So have a care! What is one hobbit compared to the leader of the Ringwraiths? 
In fighting wars, probably less. In terms of honour and keeping promises, much, 
much more.

*)  Note: 
  I, Merry, appear in the original story. Due to the request of Peregrin 
Took, I have not edited those bits out. Just skip those and think little of 
them. Like I said, it's not about me at all.

**)  Afterthought of a note: 
  The original books, written by Bilbo Baggins and Frodo Baggins (with Samwise 
Gamgee), were not illustrated when they first went into the market. However, 
after the success of those titles, many voluntary artists contacted master 
Samwise and offered their visual depictions of the great tales. Some called for 
a contest to find out who (or which race, it seemed to me) would be given the 
honour to provide illustrations for the books, but it was decided that the most 
skilled human, the most skilled elf, the most skilled dwarf and the most skilled 
hobbit would get their pictures in the pages. 
  I will, when it comes to this story, in the name of good tradition, accept 
each and every picture submission for consideration and include those in the 
later print of this title. And I'll try to be as fair and equal as possible. 
Perhaps I can persuade the new dwarf settlers of Moria to produce multiple 
editions of this tale! How does that sound, my reader?

  And now begins the part that Éowyn wrote.



  Prologue:

  The circlet of the King looked heavy on your head, Aragorn son of Arathorn. By 
accepting it, you would also take to yourself the duties, responsibilities, 
curses and blessings that a good King must bear. The crowd... no, your people 
welcomed you as their own. The Enemy was defeated, and I knew that I saw some 
relief in your look as you turned to face us. But it was only a small moment. 
What took it away from you? Who took it away? Your eyes met mine for an 
instant, but this time I would give little meaning to our exchange of gazes. 
  Then you were looking at Elrond's party, and the emerging Arwen Undomiél
from behind the banner! She had chosen you. She had chosen mortality. I had been 
all but hardened by the battles, so I thought that you felt only guilty of her 
destiny, whether it was she who chose it or not. Little did I know that I had 
been right. Guilt, if hidden behind genuine affection, was with you. But I had 
not guessed why. It was right in front of our eyes. The sadness of my past and 
the joy that now mixed into it had blinded me from seeing the truth then.

  At the very least, you played your part well that day.




Chapter 1
  The long-awaited peace has settled in Middle-Earth. Éowyn, hoping to 
eventually shake away the painful memories of the war, unexpectedly meets 
lady Arwen Undómiel.



  I am Éowyn, once a shield-maiden of Rohan, niece to the late Théoden who died 
a hero. I have had my share of death and losses, and it was tempting to put them 
all aside and join the celebration of our final victory against Sauron. I had 
paid my respects to the fallen warriors. I had much to look forward to. I would 
soon be wed to Faramir, who likewise wanted for life to go on. 
  My story begins two days before the ceremony which would honour Aragorn and 
bind him to his subjects. Also, unknown to him or anyone else at the time, it 
would bring him and the elf Arwen, the evening-star, together. I was not to be 
his companion, and with the help of Faramir, I had not that slowly begun to 
accept it. 

  It was a cool evening. I was enjoying a quiet walk outside Minas Tirith. In 
the first days of peacetime, the city felt almost like a prison compared to the 
capital of Rohan. Illuminated only by the occasional moonlight emerging between 
the passing clouds, the battlefields I now trod on looked relatively unstained 
by the spoils of war. But of course there had been bodies of orcs, trolls, 
horses, mûmakil, wargs... beasts and men, men and beasts, either being eaten by 
the carrion birds (I was surprised that I could ever welcome them, but only when 
they would feast on orcs) or by the great fires which we had set. But no elf or 
man had left this world like that. I was thankful, for we had made haste in 
burying our fallen comrades. 
  And then there had been the Haradrim. I had felt some hatred towards them. 
Bringing themselves to the level orcs did not fit for any man, except that 
they had never done that. It was Aragorn, by his example, that softened my heart 
just so I could leave hate behind. 
  And that was not the only thing he did to me. I wanted to blame him for not 
allowing me to follow him to the Paths of the Dead. I wanted to blame him for 
not loving me. But all that could have been all too easy. It would not have led 
to the resolution that awaited me.

  Aragorn... I could not escape you into the battlefields. My mind never left 
you after I fell into the sleep after I had all but succumbed to the hatred of 
the Witch King.
  I wanted to be with you, even if I succeeded in hiding my feelings from 
myself. To this day I do not know what happened during my dark sleep, or how it 
was possible for my mind to escape my battered body, but I remember exactly 
where I turned my thoughts: towards you, of course. And for all I knew then, we 
were both there, before the gates of once powerful Mordor.
  
  I saw Aragorn, mounted on his steed, drenched in sweat and blood. Despite his 
appearance, his eyes said everything I needed to see. The Enemy had fallen. 
However, I knew that it was not through my own eyes I observed the future King 
of Gondor. The body which I inhabited was not mine. I could sense the heartbeat, 
the winds, the small wound in the shin (and the armour which protected the body 
looked all too familiar) but I had no control over anything. I felt like a rider 
with no means to steer her horse or make it stop. I knew that I was not reaming.
  
  Our host, victorious in the end, would have wanted to kill as much of the 
fleeing orcs, wargs and trolls even when it became evident that Sauron himself 
had fallen, and in their fury some of them voiced out their lust to continue 
fighting. Aragorn, however, already possessing much of the authority of a King, 
commanded us to return to Minas Tirith. He spoke of our fallen and wounded 
comrades and that it was they who now needed attention. It would be pointless to 
pursue an already beaten foe. There was no soul among the soldiers who did not 
share Aragorn's view on the matter. I could do nothing else than to silently 
agree with him and hope that he could sense me and my support somehow, even if 
he would not return my love.
  The journey back to Minas Tirith did not seem to take long. However, Aragorn 
collected some of his dearest friends and finest warriors to his side to bring 
tidings to the city folk. He would later tell me that he had been also secretly 
afraid that a co-ordinated retribution would take place, aimed against the city 
while they were defying Sauron's will by fighting against him on the very 
doorstep to Mordor. So it was that four fierce horsemen, (whom I did not know) 
along with myself (for I could have been there), Legolas and Gimli rode with 
Aragorn well ahead of the rest of the army. We had left capable captains to 
command the backbone of our army, but Aragorn longed to return to his soldiers. 
It was agreed that we would do our task swiftly and Aragorn could lead the rest 
of men home.
  In the fields we were greeted with an unexpected sight. There were no women 
seeing to the dead, or so it seemed. As we rode closer, I noticed a figure, clad 
in black, standing and facing us. It was an old woman who had been kneeling next 
to a body. Her expression was both sad and relieved. I guessed that she had sent 
her son to death... but she also had found his body, and could say her goodbyes. 
She might have considered herself blessed among those who lost their loved ones 
but who could not personally prepare them for what lay beyond. 
  We also saw five hooded figures, clad in blood red desert outfits of Harad, 
walking around in the battlefield seemingly aimlessly. I observed that every now 
and then they would halt and erect a makeshift flag on the ground. The Haradrim 
were watched by a pair of nervous-looking officers of the town guard. In their 
hands they held broadswords. One of them saw us coming and tapped his friend on 
the shoulder. He said something to the other officer and started running at us.

  "Hail, lord Aragorn!" It was a cry of triumph in itself. 
  Aragorn nodded to the man and spoke: "Hail, officer of the guard! Minas Tirith 
is safe! What news of..." But he never finished his sentence. The officer, 
meaning no disrespect, interrupted him. He was clearly in a state of mixed 
feelings. 
  "Then you are victorious as the signs tell us! But something has happened here 
while you were away. I ask of you some of your time to quickly deal with this
matter. I... I also ask a permission to speak freely, my Lord", he added and 
bowed low, but was quick in standing up. 
  Aragorn eyed the Haradrim, then addressed the officer. "Speak, loyal officer 
of the guard." 
  He did.

  "Lord Aragorn. Me and my companion were alarmed by the women of the town who 
had insisted on having the duty to see to the dead. They were doing their 
sorrowful task, when they were interrupted by these five lads over there - the 
Haradrim. The leader of these Haradrim asked the women to summon the lord of the 
city to meet them. Our women were wise to be cautious, so they left these 
fields, save for the eldest of them, who would stay here. Since you were away, 
we had to abandon our posts and see that the Haradrim couldn't escape or try 
anything else! They are marking the places where their comrades have fallen. For 
what purpose, we shall see. 
  To their credit, however, I must say that they have behaved well, even before 
I brought a pair of broadswords to watch them. And look! There are no carrion 
birds desecrating our brothers! Though these foes are unarmed and battle-weary, 
one of them managed to pry loose a dagger from a corpse. That fellow, over 
there." He pointed at one of the archers. "Before I could command him to drop 
the weapon, he flung the dagger at a carrion bird, and it fell dead from the 
air, its wing torn apart. Then the fellow spoke some words in his own language. 
Cursed those beasts to hell, I would say! It seemed that after having witnessed 
the death of their comrade, the rest of the birds fled in terror.

  Will you go and see our prisoners?"

  Aragorn took a deep breath. "Yes, I will. For now, resume the duties you took 
to yourself with your fellow officer of the guard. I will speak to these men."

  He rode towards the Haradrim. He needed not to have motioned us to follow. 
Coming near the Haradrim, we dismounted, all save Legolas. "Hear me, men of 
Harad! I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur, lord of Minas 
Tirith." He would not use the word "King" yet. "You have asked to see me." The 
apparent leader of the Haradrim stood up, ripped away the cloth covering his 
face, handsome but sad, and spoke with some difficulty. 
  "Hail... Aragorn. We are your prisoners of war. We accept any punishment that 
will fall on us for... attacking Gondor. Our actions have helped the... orc 
armies to bring much sorrow to your lands. I ask only one thing of you, lord 
Aragorn. Please allow us to collect our dead. So we might join them, if need 
be." 
  Aragorn was picking his words with some care. "Hear this, sons of the deserts! 
I am in haste, so do not take my quick decision as an attempt to fool you. You 
will honour your dead as do my people. During times like this, we must seek the 
things which we have in common, and the Enemy has not." Aragorn would not hide 
his feelings for Sauron the Eye, which some of the Haradrim were thought to 
consider their champion. "Men of any race does not leave their brethren to rot 
in the battlefield, unlike orcs."
  Gimli and Legolas had been ominously silent all the time. "Nor do the 
dwarves!" exclaimed Gimli, striking himself in his chest with his fist. 
  "Nor do the elves!" It was Legolas, who turned his horse around, and made it 
stand on two legs for almost an eternity. Despite being a gentle creature, the 
horse seemed to share the apparent anger of Legolas. "And there are many more 
things that the elves will not do!" Thus spoke Legolas the elf, but after he was 
done, he fell all the more silent. 
  Gimli stole a glance towards Legolas, then bore his eyes at the Haradrim. 
  Aragorn looked at both Legolas and Gimli, then continued to speak to the 
Haradrim soldiers. "You cannot repay for your... involvement in this conflict by 
dying. No, you must live, and live to tell what has happened here. You must seek 
your kin, which you have left in your homes, and with them you must decide 
whether to remain in Sauron's power or not, though powerless he has become."
  The Haradrim welcomed the opportunity to say something about the fallen Enemy. 
"We serve Sauron no longer, nor any other Dark Lord that may yet be." It was 
simply enough put. 
  Aragorn was pleased, and spoke no more of Sauron. "If you grow weary in your 
task, I will ask for volunteers from the ranks of my soldiers to help you, if 
you welcome such help from the people of Gondor."

  The leader burst to tears. "There was a time when we would not have accepted 
help of that kind. It is no more. We accept now." 
  Aragorn waited for a moment and spoke: "You will leave your four comrades 
here. They will be provided with something to drink, so they will have enough 
strength to complete their task. You will go to Harad. Bring horses and wagons, 
so your kin may be buried in their homeland." The Haradrim leader had expected 
that... and yet, he had not. 
  "I will do as you say, lord Aragorn." He spoke something to his fellow 
soldiers. All of the produced scabbards. They were empty. They struck their 
scabbards against their knees. The scabbards broke in halves. "Now we have 
nothing to hold our swords in." They dropped the pieces and continued on their 
task, all save their leader. Those men had fought their battles.

  Aragorn turned to face Gimli now. "Gimli, son of Glóin. Will you take this man 
to Minas Tirith and from there send him on his way?" 
  Gimli was somewhat surprised by his new task. "Yes, but only because you have 
asked to do it, my friend." Under his breath, he added : "And you can trust me 
to keep an eye for that human." 
  As Gimli and the Haradrim made to leave, Aragorn called after them: "I would 
have your name, man of Harad!" He stopped, turned around and said: 
  "Yaleel the Guardian, brother of Katebh the Trustworthy, who has gone to 
his fathers!" With that, Gimli made his horse walk slowly and Yaleel followed.

  After they were gone, Legolas dismounted. He went and stood next to Aragorn 
and looked liked as if he was going to say something. He was surprised to find 
Aragorn crying. I looked at them, and I was sure that Legolas showed some regret 
in his face, for he stared at the ground and stayed silent.

  I awoke, hearing one last word. In fact, the realisation and the surprise 
of the word seemed to awaken both me and get the attention of the rider. How 
could I have missed the meaning of the strange feeling of closeness I felt 
towards the man? For the word was the rider's name spoken aloud: "Éomer!"

  It was like a dream, and I had been allowed to witness something I could have 
very well missed had not my fight against the Witch King sapped my strength to 
stay awake. It was only later when the reason for my vision was revealed to me.
  However baffled about what I had seen, I was (or wanted to be) confident that 
I would put my knowledge to good use.

  I would never discuss the matter with anyone, especially not with Éomer. Maybe 
I had been very close to oblivion one last time. If that was true, I did not 
want my brother to become any more worried about me than he already had been. 
  I was alive and well, and I had to concentrate on leaving Aragorn behind. I 
could be complete without him. I would have to.

  I had learned much of Aragorn then, though I did not understand exactly what 
it was. I wanted to put thoughts of the battles long fought behind. I was alive 
and well, and I had much to look forward to. And I would never be alone... 
even now, Meriadoc Brandybuck, the hobbit who I had the honour of calling Merry, 
accompanied me on my walk. He was apparently feeling a little left out from all 
the oncoming festivities and preparation. He didn't mind. 
  Merry was in the battlefield when Théoden died. He had offered his services to
my dear uncle, and after his passing, Merry had insisted that he should be my
personal guardian. He felt that his oath bound him to me now. I knew that he was
still trying to come to terms with the death of my uncle Théoden. Had I not felt
the same sorrow, even greater than Merry's? Now Merry would give his best effort
to protect me and to look like a protector. Despite Merry's sadness, I felt glad
that we had become closer instead of more distant.

  "Merry...", I began, and stopped. I suddenly looked at two approaching figures 
in the twilight. 
  "What is it, my lady?" managed Merry, running to my side. 
  "Merry, I was just about to ask you to go to your friends, for I wanted to be 
alone for some time." Alone, indeed. Faramir wouldn't have approved me going out 
all by myself, but had chosen not to accompany me on my walks. He had his 
reasons, I guessed. Let him stay and spread flowers all over the halls of mirth!
  I sighed. "But now, my dear hobbit, it seems that I need your services after 
all." Merry's armour clattered as he did his best to make a more stately pose. 
He was quite visibly happy of the recognition. "There, master Merry! What do you 
make of those?" It occurred to me then that he had not yet spotted the figures. 
  "My lady, you need not call me a 'master'. Oh? Oh, yes, those dark spots over 
there. Yes... they seem to be coming at us. A company of two. No, three. On 
feet. Is that a horse? Four... six! Well, whatever they may be, and whatever 
their numbers are, you need not be afraid as long as I stand by your side!" 
  The strangers had spotted us and were slowly coming towards us. 

  There were indeed four mounted figures. They rode at us side by side. Then the 
ones on the sides of their formation rode closer, while the two in the middle 
remained behind. Those who approached suddenly turned around and gestured at the 
remaining two. So, it was a pair of scouts, escorting two important figures. The 
scouts continued to search the area. Now the important riders came near us. 

  "Halt! Who goes there?" called Merry. "Who are you, and on what business?" It 
was already somewhat dark, and the figures were clad in cloaks. Elven cloaks, I 
guessed. The taller of the figures cast off his hood and laughed. He was looking 
at Merry. 
  "Hail, master Meriadoc! Perhaps you remember me. I am a caretaker of the Last 
Homely House in the West." 
  Merry caught his breath. "Elrond! Lord Elrond! I..." He was furiously thinking 
what to say next. I then heard a laugh, spontaneous and sweet. It did not belong 
to Elrond.
  The voice said: "Ada... you are becoming more and more merry with each passing 
day! For that I am glad." Elrond, accompanied by his daughter Arwen, was here.
And what a happiness shone from Arwen's voice!  

  I had taken some time of studying the life of elves. My new hobbit friends had
helped with that. They had, quite spontaneously, shared their observations and
thoughts about Aragorn and Arwen. I knew that Arwen wasn't here just to say 
hello to Aragorn. Not at a time like this. I felt sympathy for Elrond. He was 
literally giving his daughter away. And still, he was able to share his 
daughter's happiness. 

  Merry had cleared his thoughts and words. "Hail, lord Elrond, and hail, lady 
Arwen! Meriadoc Brandybuck at your service! On behalf of... and I will take the 
liberty of saying that, on behalf of Rohan, I, as a personal guard of lady Éowyn 
of Rohan, welcome you to... I mean, your company! With your kind permission, 
I will join your guard and leave you to exchange tidings!" With that, Merry 
bowed and started eyeing towards the mounted elven scouts. 
  "I thank you for your kind words and true kindness. Please stay here for a
while", said Elrond. He was smiling. He turned to look at me. "Greetings to
you, lady Éowyn. Forgive me, but we are on a very urgent business. I have little
time to discuss it now. You see, we are not expected in Minas Tirith, however
welcome we may be." 
  
  I saluted him and spoke to them. "Greetings to you, lord Elrond and lady 
Arwen! Judging from your voice, you seem indeed to be in a haste. May I be of 
any assistance?" 
  "Aye, noble lady", said Elrond. "I would ask you this: assign Mr. Brandybuck 
to me as a guide. I assume he can provide a means to enter the city without much 
notice. I will make some arrangements within the city and send for Arwen when 
the right moment comes. I trust my scouts and the warrior before me to guard my 
heir." 
  I accepted, and Merry took on his new task, even though he felt sorry for 
being separated from me. And so it was that Elrond and Merry rode towards Minas 
Tirith, leaving me and Arwen relatively alone. She dismounted and stepped closer 
to me.

  After Elrond had gone, I looked around. I could just make out the silhouettes 
of the elven guards. I turned to look at Arwen. Her eyes met mine and welcomed 
me. Before I could utter a word, she spoke to me: 
  "Forgive my boldness, but may I make a suggestion? Let us address each other 
less formally than men. We are not, after all, riding into a battle or a great 
ceremony together!" 
  Something in her voice made me comfortable and excited at the same time. "Very 
well, lady Arwen." 
  "Please, lady Éowyn, just Arwen!" 
  "And you can call me Éowyn. Just that." We were silent for a moment. I could 
almost hear her smiling! 
  Finally I said: "So, do I read the signs right that you have some secret plans
for Aragorn?" 
  "You are quite right. Do you know why my people go to the Grey Havens?" 
  I was glad that I understood elves at least so much. "Yes. And you are not 
going there. You're marrying Aragorn." 
  She closed her eyes and turned her head upwards, looking at the stars. 
Promptly she closed her eyes and her smile became even broader. Her long hair 
was flowing freely and was occasionally massaged by the small gusts of wind. I 
caught myself staring at her exposed throat. So white, so beautiful... and more 
of that followed as I unknowingly let my gaze slowly move lower on her body. 
  "That is so, Éowyn. I will give him a happy surprise. I sense that you are 
happy for him... but if you have anything to say, anything at all..." It was 
clear that she understood how I felt about Aragorn. Or rather, how I had felt 
about him. 
  I interrupted her: "He belongs to my past, and I am happy about it. I will 
share your happiness, as does your father. I have made a promise to myself: 
I will not fight for any man, only for the lives of men. I hope that you bring 
each other much happiness and joy." 
  As a symbol of my sincerity, I held out my right hand. She brought her hand to 
touch mine... and then she did something unexpected. She stroked my palm gently 
with her index finger! My gaze dropped... but only for a moment. The next thing 
I knew that I was embracing her. I realised that I was not wearing any armour, 
as her softness and warmth met with mine.
  I felt slightly uncomfortable and slowly withdrew from her. 

  "See that light over there. Merry, my guardian, signals to us that it is safe 
to come. Come, follow me." Having said that, I turned around, more confused than 
ever, and started slowly walking towards the city. I swear I could hear Arwen's 
footsteps, however light they were, behind me. 




Chapter 2
  In which Éowyn decides to avoid the company of Faramir after being drawn in a 
different direction by a strange note, brought to her by Meriadoc Brandybuck.



  It was now two days after the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen, who were now 
pronounced the King and the Queen of Gondor. Much to my delight, the remaining 
fellowship, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry had all 
decided to rest and celebrate in Minas Tirith. Faramir, too, was there. Oh, 
Faramir!

  For me and Faramir, our minds concerned themselves very little with the 
festivities. 
  I had fallen in love with him shortly after I met him in the Houses of 
Healing. And now I found myself arguing with him. I will not go into much detail 
about the nature of our conflicts, but I will say that too often had he chosen 
to avoid my company. I accused him of not loving me. I suspected that he had 
chosen to marry me because of my apparent loss of Aragorn. 
  Had I remembered that he had lost not only his brother, but his father too!
From what I had heard, Denethor had basically abandoned Faramir even before his 
untimely death. But it was our marriage Faramir should be thinking of now! So I 
thought in my love and anger. Instead of trying to understand and comfort 
Faramir, I spat my accusations at him. He was silent and his face was troubled.
  He was fighting back tears. He was too good at it. I left him in the empty 
ceremonial hall where I had confronted him. Not only did I escape his coldness,
but also my own harsh words. I regretted them already, but I did not know it. 
  As I came to my senses, I said to myself that I would seek him out later that 
evening and hold him. I knew that if I wanted to, I could have melted the hearts 
of all men... and perhaps women, too. Yes, that was just I would do. Melt his 
heart, or at least try and regret no more.

  Still angered by both Faramir and myself, I made my way to the White Tree of 
Gondor. The winds were light, but strong enough to set my loose hair flowing. 
What a pity nobody would see it. It was relatively warm. This time I couldn't
see any stars. 
  Suddenly I heard fast-paced footsteps and huffing and puffing. I made no 
attempt to hide myself from anyone who sought this place. Merry, still dressed 
in full battle gear! Although he had gained much strength, he was somewhat 
hindered by his armour and weapons. He greeted me and bowed before me. "Well, 
Merry. What brings you here?" Merry stood up and produced a piece of paper. 
  "Lady Éowyn... see this? A piece of paper, nearly blank and purloined. Look,
it has your name on it!" He handed me the paper. Was it indeed blank, save 
for my name? 
  "Come, Merry. There is a torch near the staircase. See that I am not 
interrupted. I'll take a careful look at this and see if I understand what this 
is about."
  "Be careful not to bring the paper too close to the torch, my Lady! Whatever 
it is, it can be a clue!" said Merry, full of enthusiasm. 
  "Clue to what? No, don't answer, we'll see soon enough, I think."

  It appeared that the paper was not blank. It had three lines of strange runes. 
I was not familiar with them. "Merry?" I called. "How come you said that this 
paper was blank?" The hobbit appeared next to me. "Look. Those are runes, aren't 
they?" Merry looked puzzled. Whatever the runes were, he couldn't see them. But 
suddenly his face lit up. 
  "Of course! Old Bilbo Baggins once told us younger hobbits about the 
peculiarity of some elven-runes! Some could only be read by moonlight, or on a 
very special season. Maybe you are looking at some royal runes which only noble 
ladies can see! You are of a royal line, aren't you?" I thought about this for a 
moment and nodded, just to please Merry. 
  "A sound theory. You may be right. Now listen! I will ask your services 
again. Take this note. Guard it with your life and take it to Gandalf. I take it 
that he is a great loremaster?" 
  Merry did not show any hesitation as he accepted the strange note and his new 
task. He mumbled something polite to me and disappeared down the stairs.

  I did not go to Faramir that night. Instead, I went to my guest room and 
kicked my shoes off. They flew through a beautiful arc and hit the walls. I 
threw myself on the bed and lay still on my back. And what of the piece of 
paper? Even if it was a threat from Sauron himself, emerged from whatever  
void he had entered, I could not have been less worried. Strange that the 
"letter" had no envelope or a seal. Maybe it was written with much haste, or 
maybe I had dreamed the runes. I felt only mildly interested in this affair. I 
fell asleep thinking about this recent mystery which life had presented me with. 

  That night my sleep was to be restless.

  I found myself by a small stream. Fresh water ran through it. The land was 
grassy, and on the other side of the stream I could see a small forest standing. 
The sun blinded me for a moment. When I regained my vision, I saw her. There was 
Arwen, walking towards me. I shyly smiled at her. She smiled back. I knew she 
wanted to embrace me. I closed my eyes and felt her arms coming around me and 
her fingers... 
  Her fingers touched the bare skin of my back! Alarmed, I opened my eyes and 
pushed her away. Her smile was now both compassionate and mocking. I looked at 
myself... and I noticed that I was wearing nothing. Nothing at all. 
  The sun was still shining and it warmed my naked body. I felt a moistness 
between my legs. I sensed that Arwen was still there and I felt more than 
awkward. I was about to go mad! Mercifully, I woke up as I was shaken by 
somebody who was now calling me by my name.




Chapter 3 
  In which the part of the letter's mystery is revealed to Éowyn, who decides to 
find out the rest.



  "...done! Wake up, lady Éowyn! Wake up now!" At length I was shaken awake, and 
I managed to open my eyes. The voice was familiar enough. Merry again! I didn't 
mind seeing him yet again, but him being in my private room, without my leave 
was an altogether different matter. But I would not snap at him. He was too dear 
a friend to me, and he seemed genuinely alarmed.
  "What is it, Merry? Oh, did you see Gandalf?" Judging from his expression, the 
hobbit found my speech hard to follow. I felt like I hadn't slept for the last 
few hours. I guessed that it was nowhere near dawn yet. Merry's speech, in turn, 
came quickly and between gasps and breaths. I could just make out some words. 
  "Éowyn... as fast as I could... Gandalf was awake... not to the Shire just 
yet... and a dream!" I would have smiled if I could have done that. 
  "Merry, Merry... take your time, will you! You are exhausted." Then his last 
word struck me. "What did you say about a dream?" I asked aloud. But Merry was 
busy catching his breath. 
  As I made an effort to stand up, I felt something not only pleasant. I had 
been wearing one of the lighter gowns I had received before the war broke out. 
The world had given me warmth and coolness, and wearing this gown I had enjoyed 
both. The cloth of the white gown between my legs was very moist. I realised 
this as soon as the cloth, which was partially stuck to me, slid and brushed my 
upper thighs and sensitive areas. The cloth had become wet very recently. 
  I inhaled some air through my nose, and I felt the tell-tale aroma of passion. 
And my friend the hobbit was there, next to me! At other times I would have 
asked him how he had got into my room. I was pretty sure that I had locked 
the door. 
  Embarrassed, I bade him wait in the hallway while I would change into 
something clean. I wondered whether this moment would help Merry treat me as a 
friend instead of some sort of royal angel.

  After I had changed into a fresh gown, I opened the door and asked Merry to 
come in. As I closed the door, I thought I caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure 
disappearing behind a corner. I shook my head. "I've bested one, and the rest 
of you, get in the line and someone give me twelve inches (or more) of the 
finest steel in Rohan!" 
  Making sure that there were no other ghosts about, I closed the door.
  
  Merry had not seen anything in the hallway. He was eager to tell his story. 
I sat down on my bed and listened. This is what he told me:



""
  I put the paper under my shirt and walked nonchalantly through this maze of a 
city. Some guards might have seen me, but I pretended to look like I was sorry 
for not seeing the beautiful stars. But I still hurried whenever I could. I came 
eventually to the quarters reserved to Gandalf. Light shone from under his door, 
so I knocked a couple of times and went straight in.
  
  He was sitting by a table, looking at a map. Legolas was there, too. They
were discussing something, studying a map of Harad, it seemed. Never been to
that place. I'm not sure if I would want to. 
  Anyway, they were happy to see me, but they had been talking about some 
serious matters. I said I was sorry to interrupt, but Gandalf asked me to sit. 
So I did sit down and as they showed no signs of continuing their discussion, I 
showed the piece of paper to Gandalf. He regarded it with mild curiosity.
  "Pippin, my lad. What might this be? Does this belong to Éowyn? These runes 
mark her name." I thought it funny that Gandalf couldn't seem to see the real 
runes, the ones you said there were.
  Even funnier was that as Legolas looked at the paper, his face went a bit odd. 
I asked: "What's wrong?" He wouldn't answer to me. Instead he spoke to Gandalf:
  "I can indeed see these runes, but I can understand only so much
of them. Merry, give me some ink and a pen. As long as these runes are 
visible to someone, we had better take time to copy them. Bring me some paper, 
too!" 
  I did so and Legolas sat down, taking the pen in his hand. He took long 
glances at the original paper as he was writing. He wanted to make a perfect 
copy of what he saw.
  Finally he said "There! I did it", and handed the message, this time written 
in almost visible runes, to Gandalf. He accepted the copy and begun to read the 
runes to himself. After a while he said:
  "Well thank you, Legolas. You know, your handwriting is far more beautiful and 
much easier to follow." He looked at Legolas, smiling... and I could swear that 
Legolas looked like a young hobbit who has caught of... well, say, pinching 
apples. 
  Gandalf pointed his finger at the fireplace and said to me:
  "Merry, it would be good if you brought me my pipe and some pipe-weed. There, 
it's on the fireplace." He took the pipe and soon he was blowing smoke rings. 
(I never saw him light his pipe, though.) I looked at his face. He laughed, then 
looked worried, looked at Legolas and laughed again. Legolas sat grim and 
silent. Then Gandalf looked at me and spoke:

  "Well, well, well. This is most interesting! A real mystery, I would say. It 
would not be half as mysterious or interesting were the runes not invisible 
to... the untrained eye, so to speak." At this, Legolas stirred. Gandalf 
continued: "It is a message to Éowyn, whom you have been nursing under your 
protective wings, merry Meriadoc! I think I know who wrote it. I can make good 
guesses about the nature of this message and the reasons behind it. I will say 
this: I am glad that I am not meant to take part in this particular conflict 
which the letter may foretell." He smiled and signalled to me with his hand that
this was not a time for me to ask questions. And sure enough, I did want to know 
everything! I hope I will some day.
  Then Gandalf set out to produce a translation, or so I understood. I have not 
looked at it (Gandalf put a special seal on the translation). He handed it to me 
when it was ready.

  "Heed my words, master Merry! Take this to Éowyn. Then return here, and we 
shall discuss of the journey back towards Shire. Yes, I understand about your 
loyalty to fair Éowyn, but remember that you have sworn to protect Frodo. His 
quest has not ended yet! He must be brought back to Shire unharmed. Your 
loyalties are to your fellow hobbits, first and foremost. Go now! I shall await 
you here." 
  Legolas had disappeared. Such a stealthy elf he is, I say. I looked Gandalf 
and said: "Does this mean that Éowyn is in danger?" I am proud to admit that I 
felt no fear, save for you, Éowyn, as I said the word "danger".
  Gandalf knew that I was serious. He inhaled, lifted his shoulders and sighed 
deep, letting his shoulders drop. "If I thought she was in danger, would I keep 
you from serving her? Could I do that? Go on, deliver the message!" 

  After thanking Gandalf, I left and came back to you as fast as I could!

""



  After saying all this, Merry looked around and found a goblet of ale I had not 
bothered to touch. He drained the goblet with one swift motion and spoke to me:
  "Lady Éowyn, please read the message!" As I was reading, he asked: "Tell me, 
does someone threaten you?"
  "I will, as soon as I have finished reading!" I replied. 
  Merry nodded and handled the hilt of his sword impatiently, looking at the 
windows.

  "Merry, it is just a message from Arwen. You have seen her, what, twice now, 
haven't you? Or was it thrice?" I tried to steer the topic of discussion away
from the imagined dangers that the hobbit was seeing in his mind. 
  "Oh? What does she say? Sorry, I don't want to be nosy! Not at all!" He had 
already been more than nosy. Well, he had been overprotective, and there was 
little wrong with that. 
  "She just wants to meet me in the same place we received Elrond and her." 
  "You don't know whether it's her! It can be a servant of the Enemy, seeking 
revenge! But say no more; I will come with you and see that nothing happens to 
you." 

  There was no arguing with Merry. I could have explained about the lines that 
Gandalf had included in the message. He and Legolas were positive that Arwen 
had indeed written the original letter. I could have told Merry to go and help 
in taking care of Frodo. Yet still... "How long does Frodo wish to stay here? 
I think I will be off for a couple of days..." 
  Merry considered this. "One week! Two weeks! We're not in any kind of hurry to 
leave, and Aragorn is more than willing to express the King's hospitality to us. 
And if need be, I'll stall our journey home as long as it takes!" 
  "Very well, then. It seems that we get to meet each other after I come back." 
  "Great!" exclaimed Merry. Then, after a second: "What? You mean... I am not 
coming with you?" 
  "No, my friend. I was... asked to come unaccompanied. But I need you to be 
next to me so that I can ascertain that I am indeed meeting Arwen. You will see 
her, too. Isn't that going to be wonderful? It's great that she can, even as a 
Queen, take some time for herself, too. Anyway, I will ride with her. To the 
north. And you..."

  After much subtle arguing, Merry agreed to wait for me in Minas Tirith. I 
would set out in the next morning. He wished me a good night (or what was left 
of it) and left, walking slowly and closing the door behind him.

  Only after he had gone, I remembered that I had forgot to ask Merry where did 
the copy of the message end up. He had returned the original and the translation 
to me...
  But surely the copy would be in a safe place, if Gandalf did not get rid of 
it. I could go and talk to him after I meeting Arwen.
  It was easy to let these seemingly small worries sink under my sleep, which 
thankfully came quickly. There was not much time to sleep, but it was enough.



Chapter 4
  In which Éowyn bids farewell to Merry, who in the nick of time remembers 
something that he wanted to tell Éowyn.



  Without this new turn of events I would have already been running to Faramir. 
Life would go on in a happy boredom. I could try to lighten up Faramir's mood 
(and mine) every now and then, but without his help, it would simply not work. 
  However, when I awoke into the day (that would become very strange), I 
found life interesting and full of mysteries again. Without the orcs or Nazgûls, 
of course, but I could not complain about that. I guessed that the hobbits had
experienced something like I now did, when they had left the safety of their 
dear home, the Shire. 

  I made just enough haste to beat the sun which would soon be at her most 
glorious position. I guessed that as a Queen, Arwen wanted not to rouse too 
much suspicion. As for myself... I was a stewardess of Gondor now, and I had 
been known to use both a horse and a blade efficiently. I thought myself a tad 
bit more free to go as I wanted than Arwen.

  I retrieved my horse. He nodded his head in a friendly greeting. I greeted 
him: "Yes, you'll get your sport! Here, have this carrot!" I saddled him and  
fastened my travelling gear (clothes, food rations and personal items hidden 
within the protective leather of the saddlebags) on the saddle.

  A town guard saluted me as I rode near the exit I had chosen. "At ease, 
soldier", I said. "Have you seen anything unusual?" I was not serious, but I 
asked him that just the same. 
  "My lady, I must admit that I almost did not see what I was supposed to be 
seeing. A hobbit passed, almost unnoticed, until he announced himself. It was 
Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire. Naturally, I let him pass." 
  I nodded and rode forth. So he had not noticed anybody besides me and Merry. 
Good for Arwen.

  I rode towards the specified location. I saw nobody in the vicinity, so I 
halted my horse. In the left corner of my field of vision, a small hill on the 
ground stood up and transformed into a horse and a rider. I should have 
remembered that the elves were masters of disguise. But where was Merry? 
  My question was quickly answered as the rider turned her horse around. The 
horse was saddled. Surely that would not be an elf? In any case, there was a 
small fellow sitting behind her. "Merry... Arwen!" I called with joy.
  Only Merry answered. "It's all right, lady Éowyn! It's Arwen, I've ascertained 
that, all right!" And sure enough: the hobbit held his arms around Arwen's 
waist, not a bit too loosely. 
  Live and learn... that hobbit was gaining more confidence or something by the 
hour! I wondered if I could ever shake him up a bit. As they rode towards me, I 
noticed a grin on Merry's face. 
  "Greetings, Arwen! I got your message, and I must say that it was not without 
trouble. I had to ask the help of Gandalf to have it translated." I would not 
mention the part that Merry and Legolas had played in the affair. I actually 
hesitated in mentioning Gandalf in the first place, for I could not know if the 
message meant for my eyes only. I knew I could have sought out a volume 
concerning the elven runes, but I had wanted to let my new friends help me.
  She seemed to consider the matter. Before I could apologise for not keeping 
the message entirely secret, she replied in a tone less friendly than mine. 
  "Well, no matter. It does not really matter." She turned her eyes towards the 
distant skies around us, and repeated in a blank voice: "It does not really 
matter." She turned to look at Merry then. "All right then, little hobbit! I'll 
lift you down now." 
  To my astonishment she did exactly that and showed no signs of straining 
herself. Merry ran next to my horse and stroked it's mane. 
  The horse had seen Merry earlier, but it still considered Merry quite a 
curious, if friendly creature.

  Merry spoke to me then. "Well, lady Éowyn, we'll say bye now. Only bye, and I 
hope I see you again soon. I won't keep you from going any longer. If you need 
my company, send a message, of any kind! I'll have it decoded in no time. I have 
the best friends for that in the whole Middle-Earth!" 
  At this Arwen smiled, only slightly mockingly. 
  "I will be back soon, Merry. You won't notice my absence at all. That is a 
promise. If and when Faramir asks for me, tell him that I will be back in a 
few days and he need not to worry." 
  "Very well, lady Éowyn. If you wish, I'll keep him company, so he will not 
attempt to seek you out immediately. For that is what you desire? If you won't 
take me with you..." I was eased somewhat to find that Merry had caught the 
idea. I nodded. Then we saluted each other and I started following Arwen, whose 
fine black horse was slowly walking towards north-east. 
  As my horse sped up, I looked at the skies. There was an eagle... no, a hawk 
flying, probably seeking food. Or possibly a mate. I turned my head up. 
  Then, suddenly, I heard a scream. Merry? "Éowyn! Wait! Stop!" 
  My horse neighed and stopped immediately after he heard Merry's words. Arwen's 
turned his head to look at the source of the command, but would not stop without 
Arwen's command.

  I rode back to see what Merry's problem was. "Lady Éowyn! I must tell you 
something! I had almost forgotten, but now I remember! It was the hawk! The 
hawk!" 
  Again I asked Merry to catch his breath. If Merry would now repeat any of 
the dreams I had seen, I would simply faint and fall off the horse. That didn't 
happen. 
  He continued: "I saw a dream. About you. You were walking in the woods, and it 
was a strange wood! The ground was tilted upwards, you were going uphill, 
surrounded by trees and everything! Your arms... oh, Éowyn! You carried 
something in your arms. For long I could not remember even that, but now I do!
It was a hawk! Smaller than an eagle, as they say. You were carrying a hawk, and
from the look of it's wing, it was wounded!"
    "Well, Merry, thank you for telling me. Indeed it was an encouraging dream.
At least you did not dream of me cutting the necks of real flying terrors."
  Merry's voice faltered. "But your hands! They were bleeding! You are in 
danger! I..." 
  I was slightly worried, but I did not want to start believing in dreams now, 
good or bad. I said: "Of course one may bleed if one is carrying a wounded 
hawk who is stricken by terror and pain and trying to get free. But all the 
same, I would calm the hawk down and carry it to safety." Merry thought about
this for a moment.
  "Now that you mentioned calming, the hawk wasn't really struggling. Yet it
looked alive with it's keen eyes watching the forest. Maybe the hawk didn't claw 
you. Maybe some other horrible beast...!" His voice broke off completely.
  I dismounted and went closer to Merry. "Remove your breast plate, Merry." He 
was indeed wearing an oversized breast plate under his cloak. He removed his
armour and handed it to me. "Not yet, Merry. Put it down for a moment." Merry 
dropped the breast plate, but his burden was not eased.
  I then brought myself closer to the little hobbit and gave him a long, tight 
hug. Without his armour on, he could feel my chest pressing against his. 
  "I promised to come back. I will honour that promise. Farewell now." I picked 
up the piece of armour and wore it before mounting and then rode to catch Arwen.

  "A promise", I could hear Merry say as I rode off, again.




Chapter 5
  In which Éowyn and Arwen ride north. Éowyn starts guessing and asking about 
the journey, but it is not answers that she receives.



  The air! 

  I flowed through the air as we rode on. I wore no helmet, cap or even a hooded 
cloak, for the weather was warm enough. I trusted my steed enough to let my eyes 
fall shut for a couple of moments. Surely Arwen would be enjoying the fresh air 
like I did. But she held her head hooded, wearing an elven-cloak. 

  I shook myself. This journey was not a leisure trip. I had made some guesses 
as to the purpose of this... mission. Whatever it was, I was happy that Arwen 
had asked for my help... or had she? The road was easy enough for our horses, so
it was a good time to voice my questions to her.

  "Arwen! Is it a battle we are riding?" She did not look at me. 
  "No. I hope not. But I have come prepared for that." She tapped a long bow on 
her back. 
  "So have I", I replied, fingering the hilt of my sword. It was not the blade I 
was issued after the victory. I had felt that taking it with me would rouse 
suspicion, for I had not been carrying the sword with me lately. Instead, 
I had kept it visible for all to see.
  "Surely you could have told me what exactly it is that you ask of me. Even in 
Minas Tirith there are places for privacy." 
  Judging from Arwen's voice that I heard then, she did not share my cheerful 
mood. "That is not relevant. We would still be there. I would still be there." 
  I was becoming worried.

  Still I tried to start a conversation. "Why are we riding north? Is our 
destination there?" I did not wish to ask very direct questions now. 
  "Maybe it is. Maybe not for the both of us."
  I waited, but that was all she would say. 

  As if my mood was not already going towards the worse, I noticed an unusual 
formation of dark grey clouds approaching from the East. 

  We stopped at last by the river. It was time to let the horses rest and eat 
some of the now fresh grass growing from the earth. I was feeling a little 
peckish too, and took a bit from one of my food rations. Arwen nibbled some 
snack of her own, scouting the area with her eyes. Not feeling hungry anymore, 
we rested for a while. Then Arwen stood up. I picked up my leather saddle and 
made for my horse, but Arwen halted me.

  "Wait. Let us check something first", she said. 
  "And what might that be, I wonder?"
  From under her cloak, she produced a leaf-shaped blade. It's colour was a 
shade of grey I had never seen before. Holding the blade in one hand, she threw 
her cloak away with one delicate motion. I noticed that her hair was tightened 
by a brooch. She did not want to be hindered by her otherwise long, black and 
beautiful hair. 
  "I hear you are capable of defending yourself if that time comes. I would
ascertain that your hands have not forgotten how swords are played." Her tone of
voice was flat unlike her chest...
  "I know that art well enough. I would rather not unsheathe my sword right 
now."
  My objections were in vain. She gently stroked my breast plate with her sword! 
I stepped a couple of steps backwards... and driven by some foolish thought in 
the back of my brain, I drew my sword. 

  She moved eloquently, as if she was dancing. So was her blade, which I brought 
mine to meet. The blades seemed to be amused of our mock battle and vibrated 
with pleasure, producing music that would have made mountains tremble. I 
allowed myself to smile a little. I was not giving everything I could until she 
started advancing.
  Why it was that the hands that had had the blessing of not having to cut 
enemies open longed the hilt of a sword with such a burning passion? Verily, 
that thought answered it's own question, at least when it came to most Men. But 
what it was about Arwen that made her follow the foolishness of Men? Surely not 
the fact that she had given up her mortality... no, not only that.
  I would not give my best fight, for who knows what might have happened then! I 
let her gain ground, which we had enough to spare. I thought I was only slowly 
letting her win when a swift stroke of her sent my blade flying away. She seemed
surprised of her success and could not bring her swordplay move to a halt. The 
tip of her blade brushed my left cheek.

  "Éowyn!" Hearing my name escaping from her lips made me flinch. "Are you all 
right?" 
  I touched my cheek and looked at my hand. A thin red stain now decorated my 
palm. The pain came a moment after. "Yes, I think so." 
  "I'm sorry..."
  "It is nothing I can not handle. I'll just rub some of my herbs in it and be 
done with it."
  "... I didn't mean to..."
  "It is going to be all right. Just give me a warning next time. Ok?" She 
nodded.
  "Remember, Arwen, mastering swordplay also means mastering your sword. Now, 
where are those herbs..." 

  After I had tended my cheek and retrieved my blade, we mounted again and 
continued our journey. This time Arwen made her horse run faster. I urged my 
beast to stay with her.

  Despite the winds and the small pain on my cheek, I decided to sing as we 
rode:


"Traveller, wanderer,
when will you find rest? When will you look back?
You want to go forth, not where you came from,
yet unlike what you have seen do the paths look
when seen from where you have reached.
And if you take some steps back, 
and take a different route,
the paths still bring you home."


  It was evening now. The ominous clouds had come closer. I felt something cold 
touch my face. A snowflake! It lingered on my cheek for a moment, then melted 
into water. I touched the spot where it had landed and felt moistness. Yes, it 
had been a snowflake. I had not been dreaming. Should I mention this to Arwen? 
Would it matter? 

  Finally we arrived to what appeared to be a medium sized fishing cabin. There 
was even a place for the horses to rest and spend their night if necessary. 
Closer inspection revealed that the cabin was a beautifully crafted house, with 
just a small hint of crudeness. It was like something I had seen at home in 
Rohan. 
  As we entered the house, more snowflakes fell silently behind us.

  Ah, it was a nice house, very homely... fireplace, beds, places to store 
fishing equipment and a guestbook on the table. I picked it up and browsed the 
pages. I found no familiar names. I picked up a pen that also lay nearby, but 
Arwen made me put it down. "Don't! We must not leave any clues behind of our 
whereabouts!" 
  I looked at her and replied: "Well, perhaps you would like to try and make me 
put this book down. I hope you use the word instead of the sword." 
  "Very well. I wanted to clear some things between us. Or rather ask you some 
questions about a matter that has pressed my mind recently. The reason we are 
here is that I am not going back." 
  I was dismayed... and immediately a thought crossed my mind: "Aragorn!" Yet I 
did not speak it aloud. "Why is that, Arwen?" At first, she did not answer me.   
"The people of Minas Tirith must be worried sick of your unexpected leave... or 
will be, once they discover it. And what about..." 
  She interrupted me: "Yes, worried they may be. What a waste of a public 
figure, they will think. They will send a host to track us down. But it will be 
in vain. You will help me to make sure of that, if you want to help me."
  I did not know what to think, and it must have been showing from my face. 
Arwen brought one of her saddle bags and took out two drinking cups. "Éowyn, you 
are priviledged, for in the end I will reveal everything to you, and to you 
only. And you will not keep anything from me, I know that much. But first, let 
us drink for the lost Queen of Gondor! Drink in my honour!" This time her tone 
was meant to be humorous. 
  Being confused, I accepted the cup in my hand without thinking. Then Arwen 
took out a bottle and poured something in the cup. It looked like wine. She 
poured some for herself, too. I tasted first, for her honour, as stated. Maybe I 
finally would be let in her secret? Ha! As if! For suddenly she stirred, as did 
her ears. "What was that?" She made for the door. 

  "What in the name of...? Hey! Come and take a look!" 
  I did so, with some difficulty, and was greeted by yet another sight. Snow. 
Yes, thousands of snowflakes were rapidly creating dunes of snow. The air felt 
appropriately chilly, but only when it blew in my face. "Looks like we'll be 
staying here for a while. Maybe our possible pursuers will have to stop or turn 
back, for it is not certain that they end up here, that I know." 
  I agreed, and maybe there would be no pursuers at all. We were no rogues, and 
it was not a time of war. 

  Then, a thought occurred to me. "The horses!" I looked at Arwen, and tried to 
tell her that we should see that our beasts would stay warm. But I found 
speaking increasingly difficult. 
  But of course Arwen understood. "You brought spare furs with you? Good. I'll 
clothe our beasts and give them something that will keep coldness away for... 
many days. Get in and prepare a fire." She quickly then added: "No! On second 
thought, just go make our beds." 
  "But why linger here at all?" I asked wearily. "Who knows how long this 
snowfall lasts. And what has caused it? I have never seen anything like this!" 
  After thinking for a moment, she answered: "Surely it is the last stroke of 
the foul Sauron. His tower fell and the energy of the Ring was released in the 
Mount Doom. So his spirit disassembled and shrivelled up in the skies. He would, 
even gasping his last breath, so to speak, strike at the fresh air and clear sky 
as a final act of vengeance! But do not worry, for we are witnessing a battle 
which the good powers that be will surely win. A queer battle, indeed, for the 
Enemy has no hands left to strike or parry the strikes of others who are also 
great."
  "Serves him right", I said and let out a laugh, which then turned into a 
giggle. I felt an odd sensation flowing through me. It's origin was my stomach. 
Was it the drink, not made for humans? 
  Observing my state, Arwen commented: "Oh, and you can't ride in your present 
condition. Not in this weather." 
  So I went to the bedroom... or was it a room? No matter. I struggled to make 
the beds comfortable, with some success. I then removed some of my clothing, 
along with my boots, belt and breast plate. It would be no use getting them 
sweaty. They had to be dry when we would start riding again. 
  As I was undressing, my arm brushed Arwen's goblet which stood lonely on the 
table, sending the vessel falling towards the floor. I waited for a crash for an 
eternity. When it didn't come, I turned around. 
  Arwen had returned from the horse shelter and had caught the vessel. 
Surprised, I jerked a little and fell backwards. Thankfully, the soft mattress 
of the bed received me. I lay on my back quite unhurt, breathing heavily.

  I craned my head enough to see Arwen shrugging to herself, then gulping down 
the contents of the goblet, then emptying the whole bottle. "This is what makes 
mortals warm", she said, and came closer. To my surprise, she set herself lying 
in my bed, next to me at first.
  "Just make some room. It would be folly not to share the warmth of our 
bodies", she explained. "On second thought, just be still, beautiful, tee hee 
hee!" She then climbed partially on top of me and removed her brooch, for her 
hair was suddenly free again. 
  What happened then I will try to bring back to my mind, but the accurate 
details are lost to me and are unimportant. What I know today is that I did not 
resist her touch, not by speech or physical action. 
  I found that I could move my hands with great difficulty, and I felt that I 
could have spoken, even screamed, had I wanted to. Arwen was touching me with 
her right hand. Her head rested on my shoulder and I could feel her breathing. 
She then kissed my throat. I trembled, just a little, which seemed to amuse her.  
  "Éowyn... I kind of find you a nice lady." 
  I did not know whether it was the drink she had given me or her soft words, 
but I eased up a little. I made no effort to touch her, but I did not want to 
push her away, either.
  She reached for my knee without success. Instead, she found my upper thigh... 
and then she was stroking my most intimate areas. How had her hand made it's 
way through my clothing? Needless to say, I was excited and still somewhat 
frightened. With her fingers she tugged at the hair between my legs. Ow!
  Then, all too sudden to my taste, I felt two of her fingers enter my cleft -  
she entered me! And that was not painful at all, because I was wet. Again. 
  "Arwen..." There was no answer, though a smile remained on her face. I then 
noticed that apart from her lungs and heart, only her right hand seemed to be 
awake. 
  But how awake it was, making the fingers move back and forth such skill! I 
felt a warm sensation spreading from my lower body this time... and then it was 
the flood. It was the raging fire I had sometimes created for myself during the 
long hours of loneliness. I must have moaned then, maybe even cried, but I 
simply could not remember it afterwards.
  As the burst of passion slowly faded away, so did my awareness of this world, 
and I fell asleep.

  I awoke with a slight headache. It was not morning yet. 
  What was in that drink that Arwen had given me? As I tried to get up, I 
realised that she still lay on top of me. I thought of shaking her awake, for it 
was clear that she had passed out after recklessly drinking the whole bottle. I 
then decided against it. I would set her on the bed in a relaxing position. If 
she would wake up, that would be fine by me. It would have to be fine.
  I yawned, spreading my arms and not for the first time, I felt something 
which I had not been aware of at the moment. Arwen's hand was still between my
legs and her fingers were inside me. I gently pulled her fingers out, lifted her 
gently and set her on the bed. I turned her around. No reaction. I put her hands 
on her chest and covered her with a fresh blanket.
  Despite my awareness, I was still a bit stunned from the drink. While I 
thought that it would be a good idea to dry the moistness from Arwen's fingers 
(and maybe other places, too), I did not think that it would be wise to use 
just any piece of cloth for the task. And that is just what I did, for I opened 
Arwen's saddlebag and got out the first thing that felt soft and warm. A towel? 
  I removed the blanket and looked at Arwen. She wore a pair of conventional 
riding trousers. I pulled them down very carefully, then gently worked her 
underwear down, too. It was too dark to make out anything for sure, but using my 
sense of smell, I discovered that I had been right. She had obviously enjoyed 
the small experience we had shared. I wrapped the piece of cloth around my 
hand and wiped her dry. 
  After covering my tracks, I grasped her hand and rubbed it with the cloth. She 
gave a small unintelligible moan. My heart jumped, but she certainly did not 
know any of that. 
  Relieved, I used the piece of cloth on myself and in my state of confusion I 
put it back in Arwen's saddlebag. I thought put I the cloth in the deepest reach 
of her bag.

  I had indeed prepared two beds. Only one of them was used, and in it only 
Arwen slept now. I made for the other bed and made it before sleep took me.
It was better than the drink-haze.

  A couple of hours later I was awakened by Arwen. Judging from her expression, 
all she could remember or think about was a hell of a headache, pardon my 
language. As I stood up, she stormed out of the cabin and I heard her vomit 
loudly. I followed her to offer her my closeness, but she waved me away. What I 
saw was not a pretty sight... but then something clicked in my head.

  The snow was going away!




Chapter 6
  In which Éowyn finally gets some insight into Arwen's plight and more. Éowyn 
learns (again) that if the truth hurts, so does the path to truth, even if hope 
awaits...



  It seemed that Sauron's stab was just that: a desperate sting at anything that 
was near and within the reach. The snow was slowly melting, and the air already
felt much warmer. 
  We made a decision to ride further north. If the snow no longer hindered us, 
it would not hold our would-be pursuers back, either. I hoped Merry had managed 
to prevent search attempts from taking place as long as possible.

  As we were riding, I observed Arwen. She certainly did not seem to remember 
anything that had happened last night. Or maybe she thought she had been 
dreaming. My guesses were proved right when she started asking me questions.
  "What happened last night?"
  I had seen that one coming. I explained that she had passed out after drinking 
her brews, and that I was disappointed because I had expected a nice discussion 
with her. She seemed relieved when she heard that she had kept relatively quiet. 
What was that she was afraid of telling me? She was clearly promising me to tell 
something, but not everything. 
  I made a decision then. I would play all her games if I just would get to pry 
the truth out from her. And if she tried to leave, I would make sure that she 
could not escape, at least not from me. I caught myself thinking that maybe I 
would find out something about Aragorn that Arwen knew. So I was still thinking 
and dreaming about him to some degree.

  The day's journey proved uninteresting. The clouds, now grey, were giving way 
to the sky and weather was becoming all the more beautiful. It was like a new 
spring. I felt a moment of longing as memories of the springs in my childhood 
flooded me for a moment. I fought the memories back, only with so much success.

  That evening we arrived at a small fortress which had served as an outpost and 
a resting place for weary horsemen. And weary we were, if not horsemen to be 
exact.
 The outpost was built from black stone, or maybe the stone was blackened by 
time. Still, the blackness did not speak of any evil. Green vines ran up and 
down on the walls of the keep. 
  "This is a good place", said Arwen. "Abandoned, overrun by plantlife from the 
outside, easy to defend... it just needs a woman's touch." I found her sense of 
humour mildly queer.

  After putting our horses in an appropriate resting place, we went in. From the 
looks of the weather it would rain soon. Grass would grow and the wounds the 
earth had sustained would be tended to. Corpses of the orcs would rot all the 
more quickly, attracting vermin to finish the job before grass would cover them.
  I noticed a curious device built into the small outpost fortress. A-ha! A 
rainwater collector! It would collect fresh water and fill a bathing pool which 
could be made warm by making a fire under the pool. It seemed unlikely that 
there would be any firewood inside, for after the power surges of Mordor, trees 
that might once have been growing here had died away. Maybe they would return in 
time, maybe not.

  Once inside, I looked at the elf-maiden. "Now, lady Arwen, let us have another 
drink. But this time let it be hot water, tee, perhaps, or do you prefer orange 
juice from Harad? I have even some of that with me, if you want." 
  She shook her head. "You just go ahead and drink. It will not be me who will 
be thirsty from talking." How right she would be.
  After I had quenched my thirst, I sat down on a sturdy bench. "Well, then."
  Arwen inquired me. It was all about Aragorn. Who else? It was logical that 
there was something amiss between her and Aragorn if she would not return to the 
throne which now belonged to her, too! 
  I told her everything I knew of the man. When I came to the point when Aragorn 
left for the Paths of the Dead, without me, I felt a twang of sorrow. I admitted 
this to Arwen, and in my moment of sincerity, I told her that I had loved him. 
  She looked at me and I swear that I could see her smiling out of sympathy!
There was nothing much else to tell, but she listened to me all the same.

  She thought about my tale for a while, then asked more about the parting of me 
and Aragorn. "Did he ever tell you why he did not share your feelings?" 
  "No. I guess that I should be grateful that he tried to end my false hope 
there and then, but sometimes I wish that there had been no hope to begin with. 
Even after I heard his words, I harboured some hope and much love towards 
him. He was, in my eyes, walking to his death. I thought that maybe he would not 
see me ever again so he wanted to kill our love."
  Arwen then asked a hasty question. "What of your meeting in the houses of 
healing, then? Oh, forgive me..." She had noticed it herself. 
  I motioned her to be silent. "Arwen, he could have claimed me for his own 
after he healed me. He chose not to. When he looked at me, I knew that he was 
looking at someone else. I now know that it was you."
  She looked away to hide a tear rolling down her cheek, I thought. Had she been 
listening to me ? Or maybe she did not believe me, despite the all the facts ? I 
wanted to grab the Queen and shake her to her senses, but I feared that it would 
do more harm than good.
  At length she spoke: "There are bedrooms upstairs, if I recall. They should 
have usable fireplaces. The chimneys were in good condition the last time I 
checked. That was when I was on my way to Minas Tirith. I will go to sleep, 
now."
  I would have wanted her to stay a bit longer but I would not say anything. I 
followed her upstairs. A small hallway revealed some doors. Arwen opened one of 
them and stepped in with some of her belongings. I stood still for a moment. 
  I decided to examine one of the said bedrooms. I was delighted, for the 
bedroom was relatively clean, and nothing seemed to be missing. I made my bed 
and crawled between the sheets.

  Sleep would not come. I stood up and lit a torch and took time to study the 
walls of the room. Large and blackened they were, even the bricks inside the 
outpost. Indeed these bricks had stood here for a long time. I slowly brushed 
them with my fingers. Many different times had these walls seen, and maybe many 
different fates as well. There were markings on the walls which I could not make 
out. Only the walls knew, I thought. I made a fire in the fireplace in case I 
might look at the walls for a while longer.
  Lovers, men, women... those who were fulfilled. And those who were betrayed.
Despite my darker thoughts, I felt at ease. I felt like I was a part of some
greater cycle, some greater meaning and continuity. Even if I bore no children,
my link to the past and the future might not be broken. Or maybe I was only
looking for some hope against a secret fear I was carrying. Faramir... what 
might you think of me right now? Could we ever be happy? Just wait for a little 
longer and we will see!

  Feeling a little better, I dived in my bed again. I held my eyes close. Maybe 
I would soon fall asleep.
  I heard a sound coming from the hallway. My eyes were still shut. I heard a 
small cough. I recognised the sound of it. It could be no other than Arwen. I 
heard the door open, and my heart started beating faster. Footsteps, then 
silence. Then came the sound of the door closing. Was she looking for something? 
I knew that I could open my eyes and greet her. But I did not do that! Only 
later I realised what it was that I had wanted there and then. 
  The footsteps came closer. It took all my self-control to keep myself from 
stirring. I felt Arwen, the beautiful Arwen bend over me. Our faces must have 
been only a couple of inches away from each other. Not only could I feel her 
soft breathing, but the warmth of her face as well. 
  Then she kissed my throat. My eyes opened and I inhaled sharply! I was indeed 
awake and we both knew it. As she brought her face over mine again, I could see 
little love or affection in her look. But there was definately passion and lust, 
and gradually I welcomed them with a shy smile.
  She tried to keep her voice from trembling as she spoke to me. "Now, my dear 
Éowyn, let me show you a thing or two. You just do as I say and do nothing 
else. We will see if you enjoy this, too."
  Something about what she had just said gave me a strange feeling, but it was 
buried under my excitement.
  I tried to stroke her hair with my trembling hand, but she gently put my hands 
aside. She clearly wanted me to undress so that she could enjoy my body... and 
not only with her eyes.
  "Oh, and keep your hands at rest after you have removed your unnecessary 
clothes. Better yet, let them lie still. And if you do not obey me like a noble 
being like you should, I will have to think of some sort of a punishment for 
you."
  When I was done, I was still wearing one of my white night gowns, but my 
chest was now exposed, as was the lower area of my body.
  Arwen set herself on my bed, bending her knees and sitting on her heels. I lay 
on my back. "Come here. Let me get you ready." 
  I was ready, I thought, but she grabbed my thighs and pulled me closer. With 
my legs spread and coiled around her waist, my buttocks now rested on her lap, 
and the place of my womanhood nearly touched her belly. But she was still clad 
in her gown, too, and more. It was clear that she wanted to dominate and not to 
be dominated by me.
  She looked ashamed for a moment, as if she wanted to give more of herself to 
me. Then she set on the job of fingering me.
  "You like this. Do not try to deny it. It will only serve to make me more 
mad."
  I cannot tell you how wonderful it felt this time. I can only make a feeble 
attempt to do that. She was sober (if somewhat weary) and so was I. She used
every trick she had in her arsenal as she first teased me with her fingers, 
then painfully slowly inserted them inside my opening.
  They went in and out, twisted, stroked, bent and straightened again and probed 
my cavity. She had me in total control. 
  As if she had predicted what would happen next, she said mockingly: "Now, what 
is this? Let me make it better." 
  And as I climaxed, all the more viciously than the last time, she enhanced it 
by a series of curious finger movements. I came, screaming her name and many 
other things.

  As my passion slowly calmed down, I opened my eyes and saw Arwen, looking 
confused and unsure as to what to do next. I had shared something fabulous with 
her, but I still wanted something more. With my mind still being overcharged 
with joy (was it born out of the way my flesh felt then?) of my experiences, I 
misread the signs Arwen was now sending me.
  "Arwen..." I pronounced her name slowly, tasting each letter in her name with 
great pleasure, especially the "n" which I stretched a bit. "Why don't we switch 
positions. I think I have learned something... something that you have been 
teaching me." 
  She said nothing, but slowly she let me go, and I loosed my legs from around 
her. As I did that, she let out a faint cry of relief. Eventually we had indeed 
exchanged our positions. She was now before me and looked ready for taking.
  It was my turn now to work my hand through her clothing. And lo and behold! 
There was her fruit, but there was something very peculiar about it. She had 
next to no hair there, at least none on the sides of her well. Yes, it seemed as 
if she had shaved very recently, another signal which I misinterpreted. Only a 
defiant bush remained above it and challenged the smoothness of her skin. 
  I set my hand to work. I teased her at first. I only paid attention to the 
apparent reactions of her lower body and did not look her in the face. I started 
bringing my fingers forth to touch her from the inside. As I pushed my index 
finger inside her, something in her snapped. Her body jerked and she stood up.
She slapped at my hand. Alarmed, I withdrew my finger all too hastily. To this 
day I hope that I would not have hurt her... but of course I did. At least her 
mind. 
  "Stop it!" she shrieked. "I can't! I can't!"
  I thought she would enjoy my touch. I was blinded by my own lust towards her, 
so I was all the more offended at her harsh-sounding command. Little did I 
realise then that she had been right to tell me to stop. It might have been her 
only way of telling me to be more gentle. But instead of treating her as she 
would have deserved, I snapped at her:
  "What's the matter, my Queen? Have you never been touched by a lover before?" 
Hearing this, her face twisted into an expression of deep sorrow and anger. I 
knew then that I had said something which hurt her badly, and again I felt the 
deep regret for not weighing my words.
  She jumped out of the bed and ran for the door. As she had got up, I had 
lost my balance and went tumbling down on the floor. Even as I fell, I shouted 
at her, at first without a hint of regret in my voice: "Arwen! Wait! Come back 
here!" No answer came. I called after her: "It's all right, just come back." 
  But she had gone and would not return.
  "Arwen! I'm sorry! Please, come back! Come back..." Too late I gathered the 
courage to apologise. I got up and sat on the bed. For a moment I just sat and 
thought about what had just happened. Only then the some of the implications of 
the event hit me. I fell down on the bed and lay there. Then I started sobbing. 
I was soon crying myself to sleep. I wanted to go to her, but I feared that she 
might send me away or do something worse. Soon my head rested in a pool of my 
own tears, but I hardly noticed that as the darkness came.

  Outside the raindrops were falling.  

  As sleep took me, I forgot about the hurtful (to Arwen, at least) event. It 
happened just after I lost my vision and awareness of the real world. It was 
good to put all the sadness, hurt, guilt and failures and worries of the world 
away for a little while. But it turned out that I would not spend such a little 
while in the world of dreams after all...

  I walked over hills, through plains and woods and finally came near a 
stream. It was all too familiar to me. I was not alarmed or surprised to find 
myself naked. I was surprised, however, when I saw figures emerging from the 
stream... but they did not step on the shore. They were everything; maidens, 
nymphs, elves, mortal women. A thousand and one beautiful shapes and bodies, 
thousands of races from thousands of houses. 
  One of the elves caught my eye. Judging from her ears, she was indeed an elf, 
but her skin! Her skin colour was black as coal. It was not the total lack of
light which was the stuff of nightmares, so I was not alarmed by the sight of 
her. Her hair, in turn, was white as fresh snow.
  I took two steps towards the stream. As I blinked my eyes, I was not looking 
in a stream any more. It was a small pond now.
  My legs carried me closer. I looked at the figures and noticed that the water 
was a tad bit more swallow than waist depth. I stepped into the pond, and the 
water itself seemed to react to my intrusion. It became almost like jelly, then
it was ordinary water again. I could not tell the difference anymore. I only
knew that it felt warm and inviting.
  Deeper I went. When the water reached my nipples, I stopped. I looked at the 
maidens. I knew not what to say, but they seemed to be drawn to me all the same. 
  They came closer and I was soon surrounded by their bodies and greeting hands. 
It was as if a moist wall of flesh or an orifice had engulfed me. I felt some of 
their hands seize my upper thighs. I thought they were going to give me a lift, 
but they would hold me in a sitting position and not let me down. The many hands 
must have been found me easy to lift, and the water was doing it's share.
  I looked around and saw their curious faces. They looked like as if I was some 
previously unknown creature which they now wanted to study. And they did exactly 
that, too. They started touching my body and feeling the it's shape with 
their hands and fingers. I longed to touch my breasts, but two pairs of hands 
got hold of my arms and gently guided them to my sides. However, neither my arms 
or breasts were left without attention. Some of the beings started massaging 
them.
  
  At this point I strongly felt that I was already dead and had ended up in some 
sort of sweet afterlife. I felt sorry for my loved ones whose names escaped me 
at the moment, but I took some comfort from the obvious fact that I must have 
died after trying to do something good. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted, 
as if guilt did not belong here.
  
  The hands that were holding my weight slowly made my legs spread wider. You 
can only imagine... and imagine you must, if you ever want to know what a 
spectrum of emotions I was experiencing. The hands and fingers teased the area 
of my passion, but no finger would enter. 
  A dark skinned hand appeared in the front of my face. It motioned me to 
follow. I could only follow it with my gaze as it fondled my breasts... and by 
the trace of electricity it seemed to leave on my skin.
  The dark hand probably belonged to that dark-skinned elf I had seen before. I 
thought that she was behind me. Her hand moved to stroke my back and started 
sliding down, until it came to meet my buttocks. The hand squeezed my buttocks a 
couple of times and then withdrew...
  ...only to bring a finger to meet my exposed opening. I jerked violently and 
the hands holding me almost lost their grip. Almost. The hand proceeded to rub 
my rosebud.
  I was in full control of my head and limbs but nothing else. My tighter ring 
felt like as if it was slowly opening, then tightening again at the mere touch 
of the finger. The finger, after having teased me to the point of unbridled 
lust, proceeded to thrust itself inside me. 
  Agh! I felt awfully tense. Thankfully, the owner of the hand made the 
finger move inside me ever so slightly. It took less time than I had expected 
for me to adjust to the pressure created by the finger. Just as I was feeling 
comfortable, another finger joined the first.
  So this is it, I thought. I was robbed of my sanity too, but I did not mind. I 
remember that after a while, a third finger joined the two. It was enough.
  The water that engulfed the part of my submerged body seemed to grow more 
solid, at least water before me. I felt something widen my opening, and I could 
not have cared whether it was the water or the beautiful fingers of the ladies.
  Then something entered me. It felt very solid at first, then seemed to turn 
into running liquid again. From solid to liquid and from liquid to solid it 
shifted and I now felt the start of the rush of passion that would, in the end, 
knock me unconscious. 
  But the heavenly peak did not come. I was slowly beginning to gain some 
control of my mind, even if my whole body was burning. Again I blinked my eyes 
knowingly. The dark elf was before me! She held her right hand under the water. 
I could guess where the other end of her hand was. With her left hand she 
brought my head lower and by some mysterious force she seemed to float higher. 
She held her face close to mine for a moment and then planted a long kiss on my 
mouth.
  Her tongue explored the rows of my teeth. She then quickly withdrew her 
tongue. The kiss somehow set me off. I clenched my teeth together and was glad 
that no tongues were between them. My head jerked backwards and my body trembled 
as a tsunami of sheer bliss washed over me! The flesh under my navel contracted 
repeatedly with great force, and the muscles of my other hole must have smashed 
the fingers inside it into pieces! 
  If measured by a being not from the dream world, the timeless moment would 
have went on for what came close to a minute. I was sure of that. But even as I 
felt my reaction coming to an end, I did something that awakened true compassion 
among those who were now touching me.
  I cried her name again. 

  "Arwen!"

  The darkness took me again. I hoped that it would also carry me back and
that I would not be awakened by the enemies of the creatures which I had
just encountered.




Chapter 7
  In which Éowyn is relieved to learn that Arwen does not want to bear anger 
against her from their recent misadventure together. But the need to solve the 
matters remains.



  I felt very much alive and awake. At some level, I had chosen this world. I 
would not give up now. I had gone so far. I assessed my situation. I was not 
hurt by Arwen's behaviour anymore, not by the least bit. 
  There was no evidence that we were being pursued. Maybe Arwen could be 
bothered to actually confirm the existence of the possible pursuers. She was 
supposed to know some elvish tricks.
  I knew what my first goal was. I would have to win Arwen back, or at least see 
if I needed to do that. Better safe than sorry...

  The dream (which was an understatement in itself) had left me oddly 
invigorated. I put only relatively clean clothes on, mildly bothered by the 
curious stains on the outfit I had been wearing during the night. I went 
downstairs, carrying what little personal items I had carried to my bedroom. 
  The rainwater collector pipe had gathered some fresh bathing water during the 
night. It had been stored in two pools, which were located in separate rooms on 
the north and the south side of the outpost. I took a refreshing bath in the 
northern one. Ahh... I needed that! I was soon wearing a dress which I 
considered to be my second-best in terms of beauty.
  I had seen a cooking corner in the back of the great room downstairs. I put a 
fire under a kettle and filled it with water. In it I put some healing herbs, 
saving the most powerful ones for later use to be safe.
  The drink was boiling. I picked up the kettle and poured a healthy doze of it 
in a wooden cup I had discovered. I smiled. This would not hurt her.

  I found Arwen lying in the bed. Well, she appeared to once have been Arwen. 
Before I would inspect her any more closely, I put the cup down on a small 
table. 
  She was asleep, lying on her back. Her sheets were sprawled. She had kicked 
them around in her sleep. Her body was covered by a blanket, and only her head 
and right hand peered from under it. Her hair was a mess.
  I wondered if she had been touching herself with her left hand. In short time 
I had grown very accustomed to these things, after all. Her right hand provided 
a much greater surprise. She was squeezing something tightly in her fist. I 
gently spread her fingers to see that it was hair, several strands of hair, each 
a good few inches long. 
  I felt my the my hair which hung near my left ear. I had learned to know my 
hair, too, as my life had called for such formal attention to how I looked. 
  There was some hair missing. And somehow Arwen had come by the handful of 
mine. It was mine, there was no point in denying that. I did not know whether to 
laugh or cry for happiness. As I let go of her hand, her fingers moved and her 
fist tightened again to hide her prize.
  I stroked her cheek as gently as I could. She moved her head... towards my 
palm. I was more than happy to hear her voice.
  "Éowyn? Is it you?" She opened her eyes and they were met by the sunlight. She 
squinted her eyes. "Éowyn?" She flinched and quickly hid her hand under the 
sheet. 
  "I am here, Arwen. How are you doing?" I had barely said those words when she 
pulled me to her. We then lay close for many minutes. We started taking turns 
making apologies, but it proved unnecessary. As one of us started to say 
"sorry", the other would give a reply of "it's all right" in return. 
  It was too easy to apologise (and forgive) for something which we both 
chose to ignore and forget at the time. I felt sorry for Arwen. She could share 
her a bed with me in order to get rid of her loneliness for a moment, but that 
alone would not allow me to help her.
  I reminded myself that there would be time when both I and her would stop 
putting painful matters aside. But now... it was too early for me to make her 
open up to me. 

  "I brought you something." I had the delicacy of not mentioning the word 
"drink". She accepted the potion gladly and enjoyed it. Yes, that was the word. 
She enjoyed it. 
  "I will leave you alone for some time. There should be some bathing water left 
in the pool on the southern side. I'll go and... well, you just take some time 
to yourself now."
  While Arwen was bathing, I ate a small breakfast and saddled our horses. They 
looked at me. It was as if they were asking: "Home! Home! When are we going 
home?"
  I actually answered them in speech: "Soon, I hope. Soon, if I have anything to 
say about the matter." I then fed them with some elven-made horse treat. 

  The weather after the rain was sunny, as it often was. Darkness has a habit of 
welcoming the light and vice versa.

  I saw the door open. Arwen was now fully clad... and she had her elven-cloak 
on. Her head was hooded again. She made no attempt to hide her bow, but her 
sword she kept under her cloak. I thought that she had made her decision then. 
She would not return to Minas Tirith.
  "You may ride with me, Éowyn of Rohan. But only for a little while." 

  I heard her voice and understood her words. But I would not abandon hope. She 
still had something to tell me. She owed me that much, and I would at least make 
one last try. I just did not know how... 
  I rode with her towards the north. She told me that she would soon 
head West and make for the Grey Havens. 
  I wondered when she would tell me to stay behind, as I waited for the right 
moment. But the right moment was not in my power to choose.

  It was not easy for me to admit to myself that I feared that that moment. 
Would I know what to do? Surely I would freeze in place, I would be unable to 
make her stay, unable to turn back. Would she understand that I was afraid of 
losing her? Would she believe me if I told her?
  I hoped that she wanted to.



Chapter 8
  In which Éowyn and Arwen are reminded of both evil and love. They are 
separated by Fate herself, Fate at her most terrible, yet perhaps not entirely 
without kindness. For evil often destroys itself, while love often heals itself. 



  The pain, the horrible pain burning in my skull...



  I could remember hearing the sound of hoofs, heavier and quicker pace than our 
horses. What devilry was it ? I felt danger. Someone was indeed pursuing us, or 
just happened to cross our path. I must have called a greeting of Rohan, then a 
greeting fit to a guard of Minas Tirith. Both were unanswered.
  I also remember screaming at Arwen to make her escape. I smelled the blood on 
my sword and I heard the awful cracking sound as I cut some of the assailants 
open.

  *Wake up, Éowyn! This is happening for real. There. A soft spot in his armour. 
And that one does not know how to dodge after swinging his axe.*
  
  Who were they? They looked like men to me. Evil men they were. I silently 
blamed Arwen for not sensing them in some way.
  My horse neighed in terror. Why? Because I had fallen off a saddle. Something 
had hit me in my head from behind. I hoped that at least Arwen and the horses 
made a good escape. She was not in a condition to fight, not alone. "Cowards",
was my last clear thought. I wanted to aim it at my attackers.
  
  It was not supposed to go this way. It was simply not fair. Not only had I 
been unprepared to use my sword during our journey, but I had long since had my 
share of fighting. Killing an orc would have been so much easier. The thought of 
taking the life of a human being, no matter how corrupt and beyond salvation, 
had filled me with enough hesitation to prevent me from saving myself... and 
her.
  Arwen... what if I had betrayed her by my weakness ? What if I had betrayed 
her by my emotions?
  But surely she had escaped! I would not have to blame myself for her death. 



  I was awakened by the coolness of the air. I lay on my back on the ground. I 
opened my eyes and was horrified to see only blackness. My eyebrows were 
brushing something... it then occurred to me that I was blindfolded, surely by 
the hands of outlaws or whatever which had attacked us. I thought that I would 
soon hear from them.
  My hands were, of course, tied. I struggled to free myself. I could hardly 
move my legs, but I slowly gained more control over them.
  Then the blindfold was removed from me. I could indeed see now, but the 
darkness did not go away. Someone cast some light on my face using a torch. I 
could make out three strongly built figures standing near me. 
  Night had fallen. One moment the sun had been shining, and the next moment she 
was reflecting her rays with the help of the moon (or so some people say). This
gave me some hope which others would have surely failed to grasp.
  But even as my captors towered above me, the dark clouds tried to engulf the 
moon. 
  I spoke nothing, but the figure in the middle spoke to me. "So you are awake! 
A warrior princess we have here, yes. You felled two of my comrades." 
  His voice was clear enough, and only his choice of words could have hinted at 
any evil in him. "That was a horrible lie. For they were not my comrades, no. 
Comrades of my real comrades. I do not know what to feel. But my comrades 
then... now, they are a less friendly bunch. I mean, less friendly than me." He 
then motioned to his companions to leave us. I wondered whether they were his 
comrades or comrades of his comrades, as he put it. 
  "You are boring me, sir. If you have nothing else to do than to stretch your 
jaws, then please leave me alone." 
  "Now, now, there is no need to be rude. You should consider yourself lucky, 
yes! Because I have a deal to make. Yes, I like deals. It is simple enough: I 
get the prize and the one who offers the most also gets a prize. You are a 
prize, but I would gladly exchange you for the prize I want. And I, the Red 
Stone, know what I want!"
  "Where are you going to find such one, as you say, to produce the prize you 
want?" I had to gain time. If I could let one of my hands free, throw sand in 
his eyes, grab the torch and... he was already kneeling next to me!
  "Well, yes, there is that. Judging from your belongings... let me see. Rings ? 
Yes. Tiara ? Yes. Fancy clothes ? They do not suite my tastes, but `yes´ all the 
same. You seem to be familiar with wealth. Yes, who knows, you might be a 
daughter to some king who will rather give me keep his heirlooms rather than his 
heir."
  I just needed more time. "Would jewels and the clothes of kings make you a 
king? Is that what you want? Stone the King ! You are walking on a fool's road, 
outlaw." I had made a lowly pun on purpose. He did not care.
  "Hm. Even that does not matter in the end. For if all else fails, and so far 
it never has, I assure you, I could send a message to... say, the East. But I 
usually mention the East if I need the co-operation of someone. And as it is, I 
need your co-operation now! Where do you come from?"
  I was beginning to believe that I was not dealing with an ordinary rogue. He 
might have done worse things to me than only threaten me with visible threats. 
  "How can someone like you, claiming to be in the know, believe that anyone 
left in the East today has any interest in anything else than crawling back to
their holes ? In the land of the fair-eyed, the one with One Eye will eventually 
get poked blind. A sound philosophy, and very true."
  He seemed to believe me then, but tried to ignore the mocking tone of my 
words. Whatever happened, he wanted to save his face. "So I am wasting my time 
with you. Hmm... I could indeed be a king, and not only because of the wealth I 
have already obtained. Yes... I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe I 
should just le..." 
  Suddenly I heard some footsteps behind him. He turned his head around and made 
a hand signal quickly at the dark figure which stood some yards away. The figure 
motioned back. This seemed to confuse my captor.
  
  He turned his head to face me, still kneeling. "It seems that we have a 
bit..." A bit of a problem here? That I had expected to hear. But again his 
speech was interrupted. He brought his hand to feel his beard on his chin. His
torch fell from his hands, but was not extinguished, for it fell on a soft spot
on the ground the thin handle first and stood there illuminating the ground.
  I could see his eyes then. They were wide open and showed much astonishment. 
Maybe he had caught a sudden idea ? Did he just posit a sudden solution to his 
problems ? Would it benefit me or not ? It sure looked to me as if he was caught 
in some thought. Was he silently congratulating himself or some of his real 
comrades ? I would not have been surprised.
  Then one of the clouds that had been swallowing the moonlight drifted away, 
just enough for the moonbeams to come down. Something sparkled in his throat and 
I then knew that he had not been rubbing his chin, as those who want to look 
like the wise often do.

  A tip of an arrow shone in his throat. It pointed slightly to his left, and 
had apparently missed his spinal cord and the blood vessels. Still, even when 
kneeling, he could not continue to support his own weight and he fell against 
me. I did my best to pull myself away from him, but all the same the very tip of 
the arrow brushed my cheek. 
  I bumped into him with my body and managed to push him a few inches away. To 
my regret I turned my head to look at him. 
  His eyes were open. They were looking at me. They betrayed fear, regret and 
his inability to be reconciled with his makers... and death. And his lips were 
moving. 
  Even if my hands had been free at the time, I could not have pulled myself out 
of the horrendous sight. It was not a nightmare. It was reality. Where could I 
escape such a sight? 
  I hardly noticed that the ropes pulled my hands no more. Somebody had cut 
them... and I had a good guess of who it was. It was she, and it was her voice 
that ended my fright. For ever, I might have said then.

  "Get up, your hands are free!" 
  "Arwen, you...!" She had not left me after all. From the looks of her, she had 
not been fighting with her sword. But who was I to guess? And I was wrong, 
anyway, as I would soon find out.
  As I got up, I noticed a crack in her cloak. "Only a small wound", I thought.
  "Éowyn. Will you... listen to me. I love you, Éowyn. And him. Will you please 
tell him that." Her words came painfully.
  "Sweet Arwen, you can do that by yourself when I take you home. If you let me, 
that is. I think that you want me to. As for me... I love you, too!" 
  But she did not answer. She fell towards me. I caught her with my arms.
  Despite the surge of emotions I felt, my mind and body seemed to work faster 
than ever. Maybe it was a sudden sense of alertness following the short moment 
of joy after my rescue. 
  
  Some of these bastards had used poisoned blades. By doing that they had also
signed their own death sentences. I knew that Arwen would have let them escape
after merely besting them in a swordfight, but she had somehow guessed the
nature of her wound. I could imagine her, being burned by the poison and rage,
cutting her foes in half, open. Down. 
  Now all emotions seemed to be vanishing from her. She felt increasingly limp 
in my arms. I did not want to, but I had to put her down for a moment. 
  I searched the immediate area. I found my own sword and scabbard. I also 
picked up three blades of the outlaws. Their former owners did not need them 
anymore. 
  I then returned to the place where I had left her. She had managed to turn 
herself around... or failed in getting up. I lifted her up. Thankfully she did 
not weight too much, so I could carry her instead of dragging her.
  Now that I had accomplished what was necessary for the next step, I allowed 
the terrible thought occur to me. Where now the horses? Here are two riders. I 
had to get back to the black keep, for there I had for sure at least some water 
and means to boil it and... 
  And the saddle bags! They contained all the medicine I needed. I called out 
for the horses. Only an irritated owl answered me. Tears rolled down my cheeks. 
I was on the verge of despair, but I tried to get a direction from the stars. It 
then hit me that it would be of little use, for I did not even know where I was. 
  My mind then went through all the possible solutions to the situation. I also 
saw all the possible outcomes. I would save her... and fail. I would live on to 
tell about all this and I would take my own life in a dark moment. 
  I came up with many crude chains of thoughts, hastily put together and 
probably full of rubbish, but along with the worst-case scenarios, they gave me 
all the hope I needed. 
 
  "Where to, Arwen? Can you make anything out of the starfield?" But she lay 
on my arms silent. Her beauty... I would never see anything like it again. 
  As I found nothing from the pits of despair, I turned to the rage of my own. I 
lifted my hand and hit her hard on the face. "Listen to me now! You are not 
going anywhere. Whatever awaits you in this life, you will not escape it! Now 
show me the damned way towards our last stop!" 
  She moaned. I was close to hitting her again. "Shut up, if you can't do 
anything but moan! Just tell me where!" I had almost forgotten my terror. 
  She opened her eyes, just for a moment. The moonlight was reflecting from 
them. She turned her eyes in a certain direction and held them open for a short 
while. It was all I needed. 

  Yes! I was now going in the right direction! But I still wanted to have the 
horses with me. I knew not how long I had to travel, and the herbs... I cursed 
myself for not carrying any of them in my leather pouch. To hell with shelter! I 
only wanted the contents of the bags.
  Maybe I would pick some on my way. Maybe there were some secret drawers in the 
age-old outpost, containing everything I needed...

  I had been carrying Arwen for some time when I I switched to dragging her 
roughly. "Pardon me", I said to her. But at least my legs were not as tired as 
my arms and my back. I could still go on. But exhaustion was slowly working it's 
way into the centre of my soul.

  I trod on in the partial darkness. I was not surprised at all when she started 
talking to me. I had many great conversations with her. We talked about 
different drinks, brews and even pipeweed. Gandalf used to smoke a lot, or so I
had heard. That was bound to be bad for his health. And Merry? Surely he would
teach me all the pipe lore he had promised to discuss with my uncle. I promised
to him and her that I would never pick the habit...
   Arwen laughed at this with ease. Maybe we avoided some particular matters, 
but I did not mind. And neither did she. There would be a time for those later. 
  What was even better, all my pains and fatigue seemed to have faded away.

  I heard something then. A noble, proud sound it was. The world seemed to flash 
before my eyes. The pains were back, but I was more interested in the origin 
of the sound. 
  "Arwen, what was that? Tell me, for your ears have better hearing and greater 
experience than mine. What was that sound?" No answer. 
  "Come on, darling! I just can't remember it now." Still she did not answer me.
  "Yes, you won't let me finish a sentence when you want to babble about 
something which you are interested in. But if I ever ask you anything, you won't 
say a word. Oh, no. But I want to know! Tell me." 
  Now she was really getting on my nerves. "You seem to draw some twisted 
pleasure from this, do you? Look, I'm sorry if I said something wrong. For the 
sake of our friendship... please, tell me what it was!"
  Again I heard that terrible noise. I then realised that Arwen was not going to 
answer me. In fact she hadn't been with me at all since we left the outlaws' 
resting place. An endless sorrow pierced my heart. I was caught completely off 
guard and I gasped desperately for air. Was I carrying...
  No! I did not finish that thought, for I saw them before at me, looking at me 
with affection, throwing their heads up and down.


  

Chapter 9
  In which many kinds of poisons are neutered. Éowyn achieves more than she had 
ever hoped to. Wounds cannot be healed if they are left unseen by everyone...


  
  I let out a long shout of joy at the sight of our horses!
  Then reason took over. "Now, let us finish what we have started. There you 
go", I said as I lifted Arwen on her horse. I did not have to secure her to the 
saddle, but I did not want to risk letting her fall off. Her horse seemed to 
protest as I set her laying on the saddle, her back pointing to the sky, 
and tied her securely on the saddle. 
  "Let's get going", I heard myself say. To my surprise, the horses took a 
slightly different direction which I had been following. I did not try to steer 
them towards the direction Arwen gave me.

  They brought us to a place most magical, as men call things which are beyond 
our comprehension. Beauty of the nature might have been one of those things.
  There was a mossy hill, useful for seeing far away, and a small stream ran
nearby. Young pines provided some cover. The horses stopped by the stream and
refreshed themselves.
  I had known that it was pointless to try to make for the abandoned outpost. 
This would have to do. I untied Arwen and set her down on a spot where I would 
create a makeshift shelter from the pine twigs, both with and without the bushes 
of soft needles.
  I did everything I could to nurse Arwen. I poured a few droplets from one of 
my flasks on the suspected poisoned blades I had been dragging along. I was a 
bit relieved by the results. The droplets changed their colour only so much. I 
then felt Arwen's wrists, chest and her throat. Yes, there was still time.
  Since I now knew what herbs to use, the rest of the healing process was easy. 
Or, it would have been had I already practised the art and turned it all into a 
routine. On the other hand, maybe my inexperience made me more careful. One 
mistake can render the benefit gained from two spared minutes totally worthless.
  Then I was finished. It was all up to her now.

  However weary I was, I stayed awake. I knew she would live. I lay close to 
her, stroking her hair. I was smiling. Every time she stirred, my mood was 
further lightened. 
  Then her hands became awake. She was searching for something. She seemed to 
find it as her hands met with my hair. For all I knew, she could have already 
been awake. So delicately she stroke my hair in turn.
  Some of my tears then dropped on her face. Her reaction made me cry and laugh 
at the same time. "What? Is it raining still?" A dream, or better yet, a 
memory, I thought, for she had not been in the rain during our journey.
  "Arwen, wake up. You can do that now." I could have let her rest for a while 
longer, but she had already gained so much strength back. I would not let her 
stand up just yet, though. 
  "Lady Éowyn? I remember you, but I do not remember where I am. What has 
happened?" 
  "We promised to call each other by our first names only, that's what happened, 
Arwen. No titles are necessary."
  She then remembered all that had happened, at least everything which had taken 
place before her poisoning. We coiled our bodies and hands around each other. I 
could feel her heart beat as I held her. After a while we relaxed a little. My 
lips felt already numb. Yes, I had been kissing her.

  After a moment of well-earned rest, I sat up. Arwen did likewise and looked 
straight at me. "You saved my life. For that and more I am grateful to you. No, 
don't say anything. I have courage now to tell you this. I'd rather not have 
time to come up with excuses for keeping silent." I nodded slowly.

  She did not leave any details out. Maybe she wanted to conquer them or show 
off to me. In any case, I listened without a word.
  She had been planning to have a long wedding night with Aragorn. In her elvish 
mind, that night would start earlier than Aragorn would have thought. She wanted 
to give her lover, now her husband, one more surprise.
  She had undressed, wearing basically nothing but a necklace. Aragorn was known 
to have gone to the baths and was probably sitting in a pool of warm water. 
Arwen had made her way to the door to the bathing room. The door had been 
locked, which proved to be just another challenge for her mind. In the end, the 
lock had lost the silent struggle, so Arwen could enter the room.
  Yes, there had been Aragorn, all right. And he had been sitting in a pool, but 
not by himself. 
  Arwen had walked quietly closer, ignoring her nakedness. She'd silently 
looked at the figures. There they were, the dark-haired man and the elf with 
golden hair, none other than Legolas. His hand was slowly massaging Aragorn's 
chest, and his head was by the shoulder of the fresh king. 
  Legolas had noticed Arwen first. His expression had not been altogether a 
happy one, but now some guilt crept in to accompany the sadness. Yes, Legolas 
had felt sadness even when he was enjoying the private company of Aragorn. 
  Aragorn had looked at his face and he had known then what to expect should he 
ever turn his head to the direction which Legolas' eyes were pointing.

  There had been no exchange of words. Arwen thought that maybe Aragorn had 
called out after her, but even if it was true, she did not care then and maybe 
she would never do.
  And she had escaped with such a hurry...

  Her tale was at an end, and even as I held her close, she was swallowing her 
tears. A painfully faint memory rang in my mind.

    How many broken souls must I piece together left in your wake, Aragorn? Why
do you hurt those who you are only supposed to love and heal? It seemed like a
miracle that Arwen was alive at all! I even ventured to think that Aragorn
would not stop here, oh no. Surely he would find a way to...
  But I forced myself to leave the primitive hatred and vulgar thoughts away. I 
kept telling myself that hate at it's worst only ate people away. And was there
not another mystery within a mystery which I wanted to solve ? I wanted to find
out why, if not for Arwen's sake, then for mine. And the hate could go away
should that prove to be possible.
  
  But in the end it was not my mystery to solve. Even as I came up with theories
which would set Aragorn in a much better light, I decided to encourage Arwen
herself to talk things open with him. I would, of course, be there to offer
support.

  "Arwen." I wanted to sound determined. She did not hear me.
  "So it is that my vision was false." Her voice was blank, and I grew even more 
worried. 
  "What vision ? You haven't told me about any visions."
  "There is nothing left for me here. There will be no child for me." 
  I was stunned. So there it was... or at least a big part of her worries. She 
had let out her greatest fear. I wanted to argue that all she had to do was to 
return to Aragorn. I wanted to point out how foolish she was of not confronting 
her husband, her beloved. 
  This time, however, I could control myself. I was too afraid of pushing her 
away. I knew that greatest fears are irrational, and that they could hide many 
emotions behind them. There were no good or bad emotions, but a certain 
combination of them in a tender mind could cause anything to happen. For Arwen 
it was the reaction to escape. 
  I was glad, however, that she had pried her fear of not having a child loose 
from the heavy iron net of emotions that was strangling her. Not only had she 
confessed it to herself, but she had shared it with me. I vowed to make sure 
that she could identify and cope with the rest. Of course I also wanted to 
believe that on some level, she had chosen me of all people to help her. I was, 
after all, growing more and more attached to her.
  
  Still she had no expression on her face. I would have given anything to see 
her at least fighting the tears back, because I knew that such a battle is 
eventually lost and the healing can begin.
  Perhaps she sensed herself how much it really was that she had just revealed 
to me, for she tried in vain to put some colour in her voice as she continued:
  "Leave me now, Éowyn. Now I've fulfilled my promise, for a promise it was. 
I'll now make my way to the Grey Havens. I feel stronger already, and surely 
you've noticed that." 
  My heart nearly burst out of my chest, because I could tell from her voice 
that she could not make her speech sound believable at all, and she didn't even 
know it. What would happen if I let her go now? 
  "No, Arwen. I'll just stay with you for a while. We can..." But she did not 
hear my words.
  "Fine. Then I will leave. Let me go." 
  For all I could have cared, she might as well have said "Don't let me go." 
Mustering up every ounce of strength that I had, knowing that Arwen had less, I 
tightened my arms around her. She struggled, but she didn't really try to break 
free from my embrace. Then she became still, let her head drop on my shoulder (I 
hope she meant it that way) and started crying silently. I felt her body shiver. 
  So I had succeeded in making her not leave. No I had to make her want to stay 
as well. I doubted that she would listen to any talk and my mind was racing to 
find some other way.
  Then it hit me. I started humming a tune which I could not place anywhere in 
my life, however familiar it felt. I held her, letting my fingers run through 
her hair as I kept on humming. 
  To my surprise, she joined the melody! I could hear her beautiful voice 
running through mine. She was relieved, and she could also sense my relief. We 
hummed together for a moment. She then brought her lips to touch mine, and we 
fell on the ground, holding each other.
  
  "Éowyn, I would enjoy you now. But I am not making you." So spoke Arwen the 
elf to me, and I couldn't help smiling. Our mood was happy with a hint of 
passion. Maybe Arwen wanted to escape the pain which she had just let out, but I 
did not think so, and I couldn't have turned her offer down however I looked at 
it. She wanted me and I wanted her.

  We took some time to undress ourselves. One would think that it is the clothes 
who protect the bodies from touches which come too early, but they mere clothes 
are nothing compared to the trust and patience we now shared. Being naked, we 
would not even embrace each other just yet.
  What a great idea this was, I thought. An assassin could kill the both of us 
with a slash of a knife and nobody would ever know about it. Just then one of 
our horses made a noise. I could see him looking at us. The horse, noticing a 
small bird fluttering in the air, let out an approving snort and turned his head 
away towards the stream. 
  Well, at least we did have two guardians who would alert us of unknown 
creatures, even if Arwen's senses were distracted. As far as I knew, the horses 
would trample any hostile creatures to death. Whatever they had done in their 
previous lives, they would not want to smell their owners' blood ever again.
  She set herself, from her own free will, on her back on the softened pine 
twigs. "Turn around for a moment, Arwen", I said with a laugh. This excited her 
and she did as I asked. She then lay on her belly, waving her feet upwards.
  I then gave her a good massage, using the whole area of my palms. I tried not 
to tickle her, and used nearly as much as force it was possible to not to cause 
her back any bruises. Only after I had finished did I let her again lie still 
for a moment.
  I grinned in anticipation of what I would do next. Clearly she expected
that I would handle her belly and breasts with the same level of force as
I had massaged her back, but I proved to her that she was wrong.
  I held out one, then three fingers. More gently than I could have ever 
believed I made my fingers travel along the muscles of her face. I held my 
fingertips separated from each other just enough. She was looking at me and 
grinning, my ideas slowly starting to dawn to her. 
  After gently setting the nerves of her face to tingle, I worked on her arms, 
her belly, her thighs, her feet, her toes, leaving only her breasts and her 
sex untouched. And she was already enjoying every minute of it.
  It was she who touched her breasts first. I said to her: "Now, if you put your 
hands away, I will make a compromise and hasten my labour a bit." Grudgingly, 
she accepted and put her arms under her neck.
  Her breasts felt soft in my hands, and yet their shape was something in 
between a sphere and a tip of a dagger. The red nipples, in the middle of white 
skin would have caught anybody's eyes. And I was the one who had been chosen to 
fondle them. At first, I used only my hands and lips to tug at her skin. 
  Arwen let out a sigh. I do not know if it had any deeper meaning than what any 
expression of pleasure might have and I didn't care. I proceeded to kiss her 
nipples, feeling them with my tongue. As her nipples hardened, Arwen let out a 
long and desperate moan. I must have been close to making her come without ever 
giving her oral pleasure. I knew she had had quite enough of foreplay.
  I brought my tongue to meet her sweet spot. I teased her no longer and let my 
tongue slide inside her. It took some time to get used to the taste, but after a 
moment I did not even notice it. 
  At first I kept my tongue flexible and only explored her tender caverns. Her 
muscles down there were by some miracle somewhat relaxed. I wondered whether she 
had any control in them. I then tried to make my tongue more hard and probed her 
with more determination. 
  Determination... armed with just that, I tried to stretch her flesh more open.  
I was curious to find out that I succeeded in keeping her opening wider for 
small amounts of time. Arwen was breathing very heavily now, deep and sharp 
breaths taking turns. Her wet orifice then tensed quickly. She had nearly come.
  I then withdrew my tongue and climbed fully on top of her. Had her eyes been 
open, I would have looked straight at them. I licked her eyelids, taking extreme 
care not to hurt her. After I had stopped, she opened her eyes and looked once 
again into mine. 
  "I'm here." It was not spoken aloud, and it was not necessary. I gave her then 
a delicate kiss on her lips, and put my hand between her legs. I barely touched 
her as her head jerked violently backwards. Our lips parted with a loud smack 
and her whole body arced with such force that I was almost thrown off her, as if 
she had turned into a raging beast! 
  
  What more could I have done to her then ? I just held her as she came. When 
she slowly calmed down, I noticed that I was exhausted myself. Judging from 
Arwen's face, she was more than pleased. She was both drained by energy, yet 
filled with it. I got off her and slid my arm under her neck. She brought her 
head to rest below my shoulder... not too far away from my right breast.
  "Hooo... lady Éowyn... Éowyn... I never knew I could enjoy you that much..."
  "You certainly did, didn't you ?"
  "I'm sorry I left you alone for a moment there."
  "But you came back."
  "Listen... I think I am too exhausted to... you know."
  "Don't worry about that, my Queen. For royalty you are." She looked at me as 
if she did not know what to think. "At least to me", I added. 
  That seemed to comfort her, even though she let out a sigh of sadness. She 
thought for a moment and said:
  "Can I make a promise ? One of those who can not be broken, because I can't 
avoid facing him anymore, one way or the another."
  "That sounds like you need a promise to bind you into something. But it isn't 
so. You want to face it all, but you think that you will have to do it alone. So 
you are just frightened. I will help you, whether you think you want it or not."
  "Éowyn... I don't know what to say..." She looked at the sky.
  "Shush, now. We'll start tomorrow morning. I may have something to tell you 
which we both have overlooked, concerning your... companion. And something which 
I have overlooked concerning mine. But now, let's go and take a bath. We won't 
be getting fresh clothes anytime soon, but we can prevent them from getting any 
dirtier than they already are. Oh, I hope you saved some fresh clothes for the 
part of the journey which takes us home."
  "As a matter of fact I did." We shared a laugh as we got up.

  We swam in the stream. Luckily there were some spots which were deep enough, 
full of fresh water. We splashed water at each other and had a hell of a good 
time. And the sight of her slowly emerging from the waters, water glistening on 
her skin, illuminated by the moonlight, water dripping down her features... I 
could have continued on for pages after pages.




Chapter 10
  In which Éowyn and Arwen follow their plan (which comes more easily than 
predicted) of returning to Minas Tirith. On their journey they receive 
unexpected company.

  

  Early next morning we begun our journey home. We let our horses walk lazily 
side by side, for we did not want to face the fact that we might be seeing less 
of each other at the end of our journey.
  The sun was shining again, and light winds stroked us every now and then. It 
was a perfect time for some light discussion. 

  "Arwen, I've been wanting to ask you something." 
  "Carry on, ask away!"
  "You remember when you sneaked in my room." She nodded. "Why exactly did you 
do it? How did you know that I would... surrender myself to you then?"
  "Don't you know? It wasn't for the first time we were in bed together, was 
it?" 
  So she knew, I thought. Her strange drink had not taken her memory away, but I 
wondered if it was twisted instead.
  "What do you remember of our first time, Arwen?"
  "To tell you the truth, nothing much. I only have a vague image in my mind of 
you doing your tricks with your fingers, just like you did the last night..."
  "No!" I exclaimed. "I didn't do anything in the fishing cabin! It was you who 
made the first move! Oh, silly Arwen, you were in a moonshine stupor or whatever 
it is that you drank!" Her behaviour after the encounter made all the more sense 
to me... and so it did to her.

  We both fell silent, but more was to come. "So, did you just happen to 
remember, apart from the incorrect small details, what we might have done in the 
cabin?"
  "I had a little help. Does this look familiar ?" She took out a beautiful 
greyish green banner from her saddle bag. 
  "Yes, you used that to surprise Aragorn in his crowning ceremony."
  She threw the banner at me. "Good! Does it feel familiar? And does it smell 
familiar?" 
What an embarrassing scenario I had created! This was the banner I had mistaken 
as a towel, and used as one. I could smell myself and her in the banner.
  "Arwen, I'm so sorry. You must understand that we both were drunk, and I 
thought that maybe you didn't want to remember any of what happened. So I wanted 
to cover my tracks... and yours." I handed the banner back to her.
  "I understand that. Don't blame yourself. Maybe I'll create just a few more 
surprises with this banner. Who's to tell?"
  The tensions were lost in our laughter.
  
  I remembered my thoughts about Aragorn. I retold everything I knew of him to 
Arwen. I made guesses aloud about the nature of the encounter with the Haradrim 
prisoners and the role of Legolas in the battle. More importantly, Legolas and 
Aragorn had travelled a long way together. They were both handsome and 
intelligent beings. They had shared their joys and sorrows on their way. How 
could they not enjoy each other's company or be drawn towards each other ?
  Had not the same thing happened to us ? And did that totally end the emotions 
we had for our men ? 

  "Talking about remembering", said Arwen, "I can't remember much after I freed 
you from the ropes. Yesterday we just ended up in that peaceful place, but 
everything before I woke up is enshrouded in a fog."
  I saw an opportunity and seized it. "There is nothing to remember, save for 
what you said to me. I take it that you don't know what I am talking about?"
  She shook her head. 
  "Well, can't you at least make a good guess based on what we have shared ?"
  She would not answer and turned her head down, looking at the neck of her 
steed.
  "You told me then that you loved him. You also said that you love me. And yes, 
you were poisoned, but you still said those words to me. That's all that 
matters."
  "Really ? And what did you..."
  "I said it then, and I will say it now. I love you, Arwen." 
  I had thought that her white skin was a marvel to behold, but the sight that I 
saw then surpassed everything I had ever seen. She was blushing.
  After a few minutes, she said : "And I love you, Éowyn." She was visibly 
relieved and happy of having said that, and she observed my reactions. As I 
watched her, smiling, she sighed, as her thoughts turned someplace else. 
  "Love... I also love my family. I miss them so much! It was not an easy 
decision to leave them. And it was not easy for them, either."
  She loved me, and she wanted to desperately prove it. I could do nothing else 
but to let her.
  "You see, I have felt my whole world turn upside down so many times that I 
could not stop myself from taking action to hold on to the things that are dear 
to me. First I escaped the nearing Grey Havens. I had to defy my father's will, 
and eventually he came to accept the fact that I would be wed to a mortal Man 
and became a mortal myself. I felt guilty of leaving him and my brothers! And I 
have not seen my mother for an eternity..."
  "Arwen, you do not have to explain anything to me." But of course I wanted her 
to. I just wanted to make sure that she could do it now.
  "Yes, I do. Not only for my own sake, but for yours too. You have more than 
deserved to hear this. I felt guilty... but it was partially the same kind of 
guilt that drew me back to Gondor all the time. I know now that I am surrounded 
by loved ones there, too."  
  "That is so, Arwen. And there are people who need you, too. Some of them don't 
understand it yet, while some have begun to admit it. For example..."
  I looked Arwen as innocently as I could and pointed at myself. I saw that she 
believed me.   

  I had managed to encourage her a great deal with my spoken thoughts. It turned 
out, however, that she wanted much different encouraging as well.

  Time passed as we rode. 
  It was past midday when we arrived in a vast field of grass. I could not 
remember seeing it earlier. The green growth all but engulfed our horses who 
carefully walked onward. In some places the grass had not grown more than twenty 
inches long. In one such spot we decided to have a rest. I should have known 
better, for we would hardly rest during our pause. 
  We halted and dismounted. The horses sniffed at the strange grass and decided 
to have a bite.
  "Éowyn, what would you think if we gave each other a chase ?"
  "Let me guess... it would be easier to run without all these clothes."
  "Take them off."
  "Make me!"
  And so we ran and chased each other until