It has not been an age, but it has been a year they have waited--far longer than Faramir wished. He is a patient man, but that patience has rarely been so sorely tested as in this. If they had been nearer each other during all that time it would have been easier for him. But duty kept him in Gondor while his betrothed returned to her home in Rohan, to lay her uncle to rest and see her brother crowned and a host of other things.
Including preparing for this day--and this night.
He has been so focused on the day itself, and all the days that will follow, that he has taken little thought to the wedding night. In part that was deliberate, to keep from being overly concerned or impatient or frankly adolescent with longing. But now he wishes he had been better prepared, for all that he knows not what he might have done to prepare.
And in truth nothing could have prepared him for the reality of this sight: Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, in all her bridal finery, her pale skin flushed and her hair as golden as the sunrise, smiling and calling him husband. It steals his breath, how beautiful she is.
But he laughs at her sally, hearing the echo of the words she used when she accepted his proposal, when she all but challenged him to change his mind. He reaches for her hands and brings them to his lips, kissing her fingers. "Not tamed, my wild shieldmaiden of the North," he answers. He turns her hands in his and kisses her palms, smiling at her as he does so. "Or I hope not, for I love your fierce spirit. Perhaps it is I who has been tamed."
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sforzinda
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Date: 2018-05-03 10:34 pm (UTC)Including preparing for this day--and this night.
He has been so focused on the day itself, and all the days that will follow, that he has taken little thought to the wedding night. In part that was deliberate, to keep from being overly concerned or impatient or frankly adolescent with longing. But now he wishes he had been better prepared, for all that he knows not what he might have done to prepare.
And in truth nothing could have prepared him for the reality of this sight: Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, in all her bridal finery, her pale skin flushed and her hair as golden as the sunrise, smiling and calling him husband. It steals his breath, how beautiful she is.
But he laughs at her sally, hearing the echo of the words she used when she accepted his proposal, when she all but challenged him to change his mind. He reaches for her hands and brings them to his lips, kissing her fingers. "Not tamed, my wild shieldmaiden of the North," he answers. He turns her hands in his and kisses her palms, smiling at her as he does so. "Or I hope not, for I love your fierce spirit. Perhaps it is I who has been tamed."