tanaquiljall

( Day 4: Home Comforts )


Feel free to leave more prompts in comments to any of the posts.

This entry was originally posted at http://tanaqui.dreamwidth.org/168385.html. You can comment here or comment there using OpenID. people have commented there.

Also inspired by rakshathedemon's list of reasons Glorfindel would seek out Faramir - especially #8!

An equally interesting meeting between Glorfindel and Éowyn Wraithbane.

Day 352

as part of the An Elf-lord Revealed series.

Fulfilment

Glorfindel sought out his hostess and bowed. "For the Elves, the years run both fast and slow, yet always the time has seemed too long for my prophecy to come to pass. I salute the one who brought it to fulfilment!"

Éowyn, flushing, inclined her head. "My thanks, lord. My betrothed told me of your words when you rode at the side of Eärnur of Gondor. I confess ‘tis almost beyond understanding for one who has lived but a handful of years in the world to meet the seer who spoke her destiny a thousand years before she was born!"

rakshathedemon asked for Erotica/romance between Faramir and Eowyn (yes, it's been done before, but there can always be more).

Day 347

Lighting The Fire

He steals into the dim-lit room on stockinged feet and, huddled before the banked fire, tries silently to shed belt, tunic, undershirt....

"Faramir?"

He turns at the sleepy voice. "I hoped not to wake you, love."

"I did not expect you," she yawns, "tonight."

"My ship docked at the Harlond an hour since."

She slips from the bed to join him, touches his arm."You are frozen!" She bends and rouses the fire, her slender figure outlined against the leaping light.

Faramir, feeling a sudden heat, slips an arm around Éowyn’s waist and draws her, shivering, against him. "Warm me?"

This goes back to an old, old idea that telperion1 and I once discussed as a plotbunny for a longer story....

Day 331

Having Kittens

Faramir stepped carefully through the tangle of overturned furniture, smashed glass and scattered candlesticks to where Éowyn was supervising the clean-up operation.

"What happened?"

"A barn cat kittened, and the children persuaded a groom to let them have one as a pet." Éowyn fingered a scarred tapestry. "Hûmorn did not take kindly to a new member of the family."

"So I see. And where are the miscreants now?"

"Banished to barn, kennel and nursery."

"’Twas surely an innocent mistake?"

"Aye." Éowyn grinned ruefully at her husband. "Though perhaps the error lies with those who introduced the children to the family!"

This was inspired by some chores I was doing earlier today.



Day 323

And Wield A Blade

Taking a walk in the chilly morning sun, Éowyn noticed one of the brown-garbed gardeners who unobtrusively tended the plants. While she watched, he pocketed his shears and headed for a far corner of the garden.

Gathering her courage, Éowyn followed.

Behind a vine-encrusted trellis, she found a small lean-to with a bench where the gardener was laying out pots.

***

Faramir, coming to share his nuncheon with his intended, surveyed the seemingly empty garden until his quick ears caught a peal of laughter. Following the clue, he discovered the wild shieldmaiden of the North helping to take cuttings of calamint.

For no particular reason other than that the scene came to me and demanded to be written....

Day 315

Vigil

Éowyn woke from a shallow doze at Faramir’s slight touch on her shoulder.

"Love, ‘tis morning." The pale light dimming the lantern flame proved the truth of his words.

Éowyn sat up, wincing at the soreness in her joints, and stretched away her stiffness – before glancing down with sudden alarm at her charge. "I did not mean to sleep!"

"Do not fret." Faramir put out a hand and helped her to her feet. "It seems all is well now."

Éowyn smiled and, picking some straw out of her hair, reached down and brushed her fingers across the foal’s head. "Aye!"

I just watched the latest Supernatural episode (3x11) which has a "Groundhog Day" element to the plot, and have also been watching some eps of a show called Tru Calling based on a similar premise of "do-over days". So I was inspired to see if I could do a similar time-loop story set in M-e. (And yeah, a "repeating day" story in 100 words? Don't exactly set myself simple challenges, do I? *rolls eyes*)

Groundhog Day

Éowyn sat bolt upright, awakened by the cries of men and whinny of horses.

Pushing open the tent flap, she saw a bustle of activity, her uncle and brother conferring in the distance. Why were they back and not a day’s ride towards Gondor?

Would they leave again? Must she choose anew: to stay dutifully here in Dunharrow, or follow her heart’s desire to serve her lord? For death would come, whether she skulked in the hills or rode out to meet it. But, nay! She must surely put duty first once more and remain....

***

Éowyn sat bolt upright....

A diversion from the star-tales today - although I'm sure I'll get back to them - still several constellations to go!

I was (finally!) answering LJ comments and got sidetracked by a comment from AFriedman: "It seems to me that Arwen's role was either neglected in the histories, as perhaps were the roles of many of the women who quietly worked behind the scenes rather than taking the glory of battle for themselves, or else Arwen actually was very passive. What do you think? I'd be curious to read a drabble about this."

And so....

Day 259

The Judgement of History

Glancing across as the scop hymned the exploits of Lady Wraithbane, Arwen saw a slightly glazed look on Éowyn's face. Leaning sideways, she murmured. "Does the singer's tale displease you?"

Éowyn, graciously smiling and clapping and throwing a favour as the musician finished, answered wryly. "Nay. But 'tis tiresome after twenty years to be lauded always as the shieldmaiden."

"Be thankful." Arwen's tone turned acerbic. "In song, I am naught but Lúthien's shadow, a fair prize for the King Returned. All that I did to hold the North together in Estel's absence is as dust to the minstrels of Gondor."

A follow up to yesterday's Traditional.

Day 249

as part of the Heavens' Embroidered Cloths series.

First of all things the stars of heaven

Coming home, Faramir found the hall was littered with piled greenery and other mysterious packages: preparations were in hand for the ball Éowyn would host the night before mettarë.

Stepping into the Great Room, he gaped. The walls were hung with dark blue velvet, onto which the mistress of the wardrobe was pinning silver-threaded roundels in familiar patterns – the Swordsman, the Sickle of the Valar, the Butterfly – to honour the Kindler at the dark of the year.

Suddenly aware Éowyn was at his side, he murmured, "I had thought it was but a dream from childhood. How did you know?"

In a comment to yesterday's drabble, rakshathedemon said I can just imagine future generations looking back to the time of Faramir and Eowyn as a golden age.

Day 246

Golden Age

The old man leaned on his hoe and regarded his grandson. "Ar, I remember 'ow us used to be able ter talk to the Prince straight 'bout anythin' that were botherin' us. My da said 'e'd ride round mekkin' sure us was all gettin' along fine. An' if we needed anythin', 'e'd do 'is best to 'elp. And Lady Éowyn, she were right gracious too: founded the 'Ouses o' Healin' in Emyn Arnen, as any of us could use if we 'ad need. An' them such great 'eroes in the War, but never put on airs an' graces like some...."