Author/Banshee Queen: "Even thought I wrote Don't Let Me Fall long before this, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like between Arwen and Eowyn if ever they had the chance to meet. So this is my version. Oh and by the way, they've met the day after Aragorn's coronation, not the movie version, but the book version. Enjoy!"
Disclaimer: "I don't own the characters, people or places of this fanfiction. Only the ideas." :)
First Meeting
Smiling politely and murmuring a quiet "Thank you" to the two guards who had opened the doors of the Citadel leading out towards the White Tree of Gondor, Éowyn exhaled deeply, and; quickly scanning the area for any unwanted persons, threw back her head and massaged her nape vigorously with both hands.
Formality was necessity. Especially in these parts and especially since she was The White Lady of Rohan and White Lady of Ithilien.
Engaged to Faramir.
Éowyn smiled through her fatigue. Standing in one spot for some time listening to a courtier ramble on about the new laws the King of Gondor was going to enforce, and trying to sip an endless array of wine had become quite tiresome for the mortal, and in exasperation, (and clearly boredom), she had decided to step outside for some air, and a little time alone for herself.
However, upon lifting her gaze to the evening sunset blazing forth in shades of yellow and orange, Éowyn was startled by the lone figure standing motionless by the farthest wall.
A woman perhaps?
In the distance, a curtain of dark waves cascaded down the woman's back, melting into the sapphire shade of gown she wore, finishing with a small train at her feet.
Some foreigner from a distant land? A Haradrim perhaps?
The mortal strained her eyes, but after a moment sighed deplorably. She could not see the color of the woman's skin which would've been helpful in giving her an idea where she had come from or something of her background. Even her gown seemed foreign. No gown had Éowyn ever seen stitched like that before, nor did the design spark any memory of seeing something of that make she had ever seen in her life. Silver threading encircled her shapely hips and trimmed the train and rim of her dress.
Only one way to find out.
Éowyn thought as she lifted her trailing skirts in hand and casually made her way towards the woman. Upon reaching the wall, she stared out towards the horizon and said;
"I don't recall your face among the crowd inside. Pray tell me, who are you stranger?"
The White Lady turned and made to smile but pure awestruck stiffened her white features as she softly gasped.
The woman was like no-one she had ever seen before in her life. Those dark waves of hair framed a perfect oval shaped face, bright cerulean eyes twinkling with a soft amused light, and those red pouty lips curled into a smile almost instantly against the backdrop of flawless fair skin.
The woman laughed heartily, but with a grace that spoke she was a lady of title. The plunging circular neckline rimmed with silver threading, emphasized her pale but full bosom which rose continuously as she laughed.
"And I don't recall your face either among the crowd inside, My Lady, pray tell me, who are you stranger?"
Éowyn was momentarily taken aback and at a lost for words; the woman's voice sounded as sweet as honey and flowed harmoniously and cool with her casual yet formal way of speaking. The mortal forced herself out of the trance and complied with her question.
"I have many titles. The White Lady of Rohan, The White Lady of Ithilien, or, as I prefer, the Shieldmaiden of Rohan."
"Aaah", said the woman with a note of realization in her tone, "so you are the pale Simbelmynë? Éowyn I believe, forgive me if I'm wrong."
Éowyn stared at the woman before her with awe and wonder. How did she know her name? She tumbled the thought over in her head. Then again, everyone from the South of Gondor to the Northern Kingdom Arnor knew of her name, the Shieldmaiden of Rohan; and how she, with the help of the Hobbit hero named Merry, had destroyed the Witch King of Angmar. Still, it did not quell her thirst for knowledge of how she knew and she questioned the woman further.
"Simbelmynë you said? I see you know something of Rohan, but your tongue suggests otherwise. And forgive me for saying so, but you do not look at all like a Gondorian, nor of the Rohirrim, or any other human race I have seen alike in this Middle Earth. And you most certainly do not look like one of the Haradrim."
"No?" Questioned the woman.
"No."
"Where do you think I come from then Éowyn?"
Again, the use of her name on this woman's tongue surprised Éowyn, and she lifted her head proudly, as if readying herself for a battle.
"My personal opinion?"
"Yes." The woman nodded strictly.
"An-
"Elf?" She interrupted, raising an eyebrow seriously.
"Yes." Éowyn answered, shifting her feet uneasily.
"Then you're not wrong." She said calmly as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder, uncovering one pale ear.
One pointy ear.
Éowyn would've jumped and widened her eyes in surprise if she had not controlled herself. Of course she had met and seen Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, but she had not expected to see a female Elf, as crude and foolish as it sounded. The woman however, seeing her reaction laughed again, smiling fondly upon Éowyn.
"And now I expect you wish to hear my titles, if any I have. That's what you're wondering isn't it?"
Éowyn nodded dumbly, clutching at the long skirts of her gown as if to cling onto her own sanity. The woman rose her chin proudly and a vivid light seemed to shine bright in those cerulean eyes as she spoke on.
"I am Princess of Rivendell, daughter of Lord Elrond and the Lady Celebrián, and Queen of Gondor."
Éowyn nodded politely and smiled, but after the words sunk in her eyes widened as far as they would go.
Queen of Gondor…which meant…
…she was Aragorn's wife.
Éowyn looked upon the Elf with a new light and suddenly all the feelings she had once felt for Aragorn came tumbling back and crashing down upon her.
…Aragorn's wife…
…the woman he had rejected her for…
…the woman he loved…
The mortal couldn't help but give in to the sickening feeling churning in her stomach and doubled over, breathing deep. After a moment of realization however, another thought tumbled through her head.
…the woman he had stayed faithful to.
Amid the sickening feeling and dizziness swirling in her head, Éowyn smiled. He was a decent man and had stayed faithful to the woman he loved.
"Éowyn are you alright?"
The Elf's soft and concerned voice broke through her thoughts as she laid both hands upon the mortal's shoulders, attempting to steady her from falling.
"Come. I will find you a seat." The Elf said as she guided Éowyn in the direction of the Citadel doors.
"No, no", Éowyn refused gently, straightening slowly as she brushed her away. "I'm fine, I'm fine."
The White Lady courteously declined the Elf's continual suggestion of finding her someplace to sit or a drink of water to clear her head.
"I'm fine, really." Smiled Éowyn as she seated herself graciously upon the white wall of Gondor which sparked a troubled look from the Elf. "Don't worry", laughed Éowyn merrily, "I'm not going to fall."
The Elf's alluring pout melted into a smile, but behind it still remained the fretful thought as she watched Éowyn like a hawk, anxious that one movement from her might make her fall.
"I see you dislike formalities."
Éowyn blushed a deep scarlet and bowed her head in embarrassment, mumbling something along the lines of an apology in the presence of a Lady.
The Elf laughed again and waved away her apology.
"There's no need to apologize. I myself try to avoid formalities whenever I can, but sadly they are something that will always remain when you have a title and a name."
At the Elf's last comment, Éowyn rose her gaze to her level and rose an eyebrow.
"Speaking of names, you haven't even told me yours."
The Elf smiled mischievously, then said simply;
"Arwen."
Éowyn nodded in gratitude, a faint but sad smile touching her lips.
"My name is Arwen."
Arwen…
Éowyn rolled the name over in her head continuously.
Arwen, Arwen, Arwen…finally a name to put to a face, to put to a title, to put to a description of the woman Aragorn loves.
She hadn't expected a man such as Aragorn to be betrothed and in love with a woman lesser in looks, mind, and an air of command than Arwen, but she couldn't help but be in awe of her beauty and the kindness and wit she had already shown to her so far. Still, it did not surprise her that she possessed all these traits; she was after all an Elf.
"I know, about your past feelings", Arwen softly said.
The White Lady stood and turned her back on the Elf, not wanting her to see the look and pain of rejection in her eyes. It was bad enough having to look Aragorn in the eye, even now, but to look into the eyes of the woman he was and still is in love with all those years…Éowyn sighed deplorably.
"I want you to know, I feel no resentment towards you Éowyn."
Colour bloomed in Éowyn's cheeks. This was more embarrassing and uncomfortable than the time Éomer had accidentally walked into her chamber as a youth while she was removing her shift.
"Why should I? Because you had feelings for the man that I love and am married to?"
Éowyn immediately turned, making to walk away from the awkward situation full stop, but Arwen gently laid a hand on her arm.
"Please, listen to what I have to say."
Embarrassment and a tinge of animosity flashed in Éowyn's eyes.
"This is already uncomfortable as it is. Don't put me through another situation I know I won't be able to win."
With that, the White Lady turned her eyes to the ground and swiftly made to walk back to the Citadel.
"What are you afraid of Éowyn?" Arwen's clear voice called after her.
The mortal's golden curtain of wavy hair rippled as she swung to face the Elf. With a certain startling ness, she marched back toward Arwen, blue eyes alight.
"How can I look into the eyes of the woman who was chosen over me by the man that I once loved? The shame is too much for me My Lady. And what am I afraid of? Well I'm quite sure you could think of what."
Arwen stood with both hands clasped in front of her, towering a whole head over the mortal before her.
"You stand before me and you judge me", the Elf's voice grew grave, the expression on her face serious, "when you know nothing of my thoughts. What thoughts and feelings did you think would be going through my mind when first meeting you? Of course I was eager to meet the fair maiden who had in her rejection and despair, ridden to war seeking death upon the battlefield. And all because her love was unrequited. But did you think for once I would have turned my nose and title at you merely because you had feelings for my husband?"
Éowyn stared defiantly at the Elf.
"I had heard rumour of your beauty Lady Arwen, not your name or title. But how could you not expect me to make judgement on what manner of woman Aragorn would take to wife? I saw him as the true King of Men, his ranger guise shed away", Arwen listened intently, "I saw the fantasy and I saw the truth as one."
Éowyn's eyes suddenly widened with disbelief at what she had said, and she clamped her mouth shut, livid at herself for having blurted out the thoughts which she had long guarded protectively and shared only to herself. But the Elf's eyes softened in pity, as she looked upon the mortal in a different light.
"Éowyn, I seek not to shame you, nor question whether you are a threat to me, because I see you as none."
At those words the mortal looked up sharply, a whirl of embarrassment and anger towards herself tumbling over each other.
"…What I mean to say is…I wish us to be friends."
The White Lady's blue eyes flickered in astonishment as the words fell from Arwen's mouth.
"But- , how- , you want-
"Yes and yes. I wish us to be friends Éowyn."
Éowyn gaped at Arwen and clapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief.
"But why would you choose me above all others in this City?"
A sincere smile reached the Elf's red pout as she stepped forward, and startling Éowyn, took her trembling hands into hers and said, "Because your eyes told me."
The White Lady astonishingly felt her eyes brimming with tears, one of them snaking its way down her cheek, which she hurriedly wiped away. A faint smile laced with pity and hope, moulded itself onto Arwen's lips.
"Please. Will you let me?" Questioned Arwen, bending her knees to look at Éowyn's face, whom had bowed her head in surprise and also because she was, simply; flattered. After a moment however, Éowyn raised her gaze to eye level with Arwen's and nodded.
"I had thought otherwise of you My Lady, when first I saw you only an hour ago and when you told me your name, but I should've known Aragorn wouldn't be foolish in his choice as to choosing his wife."
The Elf smiled warmly, and again amazing Éowyn, stepped forward and enclosed her within a welcoming embrace.
"Then we are friends, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and may we cherish the time that we have together."
The mortal frowned uncertainly, seemingly bothered by something.
"What is troubling you?" Questioned Arwen, too frowning.
"That friendship will have to wait; Faramir and I leave in the morning."
"Oh? Where to?"
"Ithilien", sighed Éowyn lamentably, "Faramir has duties assigned to him which need attending."
"You're the White Lady of Ithilien now Éowyn, you hold just as much, if not more power than Faramir, and he has representatives of the council which govern in his place when away. So, stay."
Éowyn laughed suddenly, like a sparrow that is set free of its gilded cage.
"You're quite the diplomat aren't you? And very persuasive I might add, Arwen."
Beside her, the Elf just smiled.
"One must be to lead and rule a country, council or your people."
"Aaah yes, quite the Queen I might add."
Arwen shook her head and smiled as she turned to make her way toward the Citadel.
"Where are you off to?"
It was the Elf's turn to sigh regrettably.
"With formality comes sacrifice, and that it what I must do now."
"You mean returning back to that pit of doom?" Questioned Éowyn as she walked beside her, skirts raised above the ground.
"Mmmm hmm."
"Oh the joys of having a title", growled Éowyn sarcastically.
Beside her, Arwen agreed. "Mmmm hmm", she laughed.
Upon stepping back into the Citadel, the two were greeted by cheers, deep bows and curtsies, followed by murmurs of "My Lady", and "My Queen". Soon after, Aragorn hushed the hall to a low hum and began raising a toast to the future health and prosperity of Gondor, calling upon Arwen to join him. Standing beside at the front, Éowyn curled her arm tighter around his and smiled up at her King and Queen and went over the evening's events.
She had met the woman Aragorn had been in love with, stayed faithful to, and married.
She had met the woman Aragorn had turned her down for.
And in the months beforehand she had pondered and wondered endlessly over the woman who filled and fashioned Aragorn's dreams. She had pondered and wondered endlessly over why he had turned her down, and now she knew. She had pondered and wondered endlessly over what kind of woman he had chosen for a wife, and now she knew. A refined, gracious and compassionate Elf, whose beauty surpassed those of the mortal world and those of even the Elven, she was sure of.
And she had pondered and wondered endlessly over the woman's name.
Arwen.
"I am Princess of Rivendell, daughter of Lord Elrond and the Lady Celebrián", the Elf's voice resounded in Éowyn's head…and now Queen of Gondor.
Éowyn gazed up at Aragorn still talking, every now and then managing to get the crowd to laugh, and his voice echoed away into silence as she passed her gaze to the woman standing proud and smiling beside him.
The Elf standing beside him.
The Queen standing beside him.
His wife…standing beside him.
Their first meeting had been a right one, and out of it, born a friendship.
Éowyn simply looked up and smiled.
Author/Banshee Queen: "Good bad? As always, please review. I need some spirit lifting at the moment."