"Promising indeed." There is a laugh in Éomer's voice; and, in truth, how could it be otherwise? He cannot pretend to believe in his brother-in-law's command of the language, after all, when even a simple name gives him such trouble; and while he will not insult a guest outright, for he does have more manners than that, he will not entirely bridle his tongue, either. "Westron it shall be, then; you will be glad to know that it is my bride's first tongue, too, so you will not be alone in it. Indeed, I foresee that you will hear many of the tongues of Men; we keep a widely-travelled hall, of late."
At that, tense though she clearly is, Éowyn musters a smile. "A far cry, then, from how things were! It is a balm to me, to know that in my absence, still the silence is scoured from these halls, and they may ring again with both the poetic and the efficient." A small barb, there, at her husband; one she cannot resist, for how often can she ever claim his side to be the efficient and sensible one? It does seem to bring her a little back to herself; she sits a little easier, and while her smile is not quite as carelessly bright as before, it is true enough. "As for Shadowfax, dear husband, it is not your tongue or mine to which he answers best; and I cannot think that you have in all your busy days time enough to train yourself to the tongues of the Elves and Maia. Some things are beyond even your taming."
Éomer chuckles at that, and says something under his breath which wins him a glare from her - one which he shrugs off easily, with a smile, as they begin their ascent from the fields of barrows, up the hillside to the walled fort above. "Some things," he remarks, mildly enough, "are beyond the taming of any man. Better must my sister know this than most." He lets that hang just enough to make his point, before continuing, "for she was the one who bound my wounds when I made my own foolhardy attempt. Such a beast will have no rider but the one he chooses, and we cannot all have the fortitude of Eorl, to make ourselves be chosen."
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sforzinda
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Date: 2021-09-27 12:12 am (UTC)At that, tense though she clearly is, Éowyn musters a smile. "A far cry, then, from how things were! It is a balm to me, to know that in my absence, still the silence is scoured from these halls, and they may ring again with both the poetic and the efficient." A small barb, there, at her husband; one she cannot resist, for how often can she ever claim his side to be the efficient and sensible one? It does seem to bring her a little back to herself; she sits a little easier, and while her smile is not quite as carelessly bright as before, it is true enough. "As for Shadowfax, dear husband, it is not your tongue or mine to which he answers best; and I cannot think that you have in all your busy days time enough to train yourself to the tongues of the Elves and Maia. Some things are beyond even your taming."
Éomer chuckles at that, and says something under his breath which wins him a glare from her - one which he shrugs off easily, with a smile, as they begin their ascent from the fields of barrows, up the hillside to the walled fort above. "Some things," he remarks, mildly enough, "are beyond the taming of any man. Better must my sister know this than most." He lets that hang just enough to make his point, before continuing, "for she was the one who bound my wounds when I made my own foolhardy attempt. Such a beast will have no rider but the one he chooses, and we cannot all have the fortitude of Eorl, to make ourselves be chosen."