Title: The Ending of the World
Author: Valentine (email@example.com)
Pairing: Eowyn/Eomer, Eowyn/Faramir, Eoywn/Eomer/Faramir
Summary: The aftermath of the War
Disclaimer: I have no legal claim to the characters of J.R.R. Tolkien.
Archive: Yes, just let me know where
The first thing he does when he reaches the city is to go looking for her. He leaves his horse in the hands of a stranger and continues up the slope on foot. He’s not exactly running, but not strolling either.
When he has almost reached the top, he looks up and sees her on the steps above him. It reminds him of the many times that he’s seen her on the steps of Edoras, cold and distant and wind-blown. But then she smiles a welcome and runs down to meet him in a swirl of robes.
They embrace, not caring that his armour is dirty and sweaty and that the hug is hard enough to be almost painful.
He kisses her, brotherly now and not like a lover.
“Sister,” he says, “you’re alive.”
“So are you,” she says, stroking his face.
“Yes,” he says, turning his head aside and kissing her palm.
“There were moments when I wanted to die, when I thought despair would swallow me,” she says, wiping strands of tousled hair off his brow. “But then I thought that Theodred would want us to live. He’d want us to survive the battles we’ve dreamed of. He’d want us to be happy.”
“He wanted to make us happy in life, he’d want us to be happy now,” he says. He holds her close and she leans her head against his.
They stand like this for a long time, until he sees movement from the corner of his eyes, a flash of red and gold. He looks up to see a man standing at the top of the stairs, in the same spot where his sister stood. If not for the darker hair, he would easily take the other for a Rohirrim.
“Do you remember the Stewart’s son?” she asks.
He remembers a time when the Stewarts still came to Rohan to buy horses. He remembers two brothers fiercely attached to each other - the one who seemed destined to become the Captain of the Guard and the other, quieter one.
“He’s not the warrior of my dreams,” she says. “But he’s a kind man. And he sees me for who I am, not for who he wants me to be.”
The man at the top of the stairs looks down at the siblings, the heroes of Rohan. The wind mingles her golden tresses with her brother’s blond locks and makes her shawl wave like a banner. They both look up at him.
Love me, love my brother, her eyes seem to say. It’s a feeling he knows so very well. It’s a challenge - take us, both of us, or leave it.
He was never one to step away from a challenge, so he walks down the steps to join them.
They are three, Eowyn, Eomer, Faramir.