Main Characters: Aragorn, Éowyn
Rating: PG
Pairings: Aragorn/Éowyn unrequited
Genre: Angst/Drama
Length: Short story
Summary: He had come to say goodbye...
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He had come to say goodbye.
Éowyn, Lady of Ithilien, well-loved in life and now honored in death, had returned to her beloved Golden Hall of Edoras, now at the close of her life, to lie in state.
And he had come, the King of Gondor, to say his farewell.
He stood looking down at her as she lay there, almost as if only sleeping, and through his tears, he saw her as she had been when he had first known her, so young, so fair, so strong...
"Ah, Éowyn," he sighed softly, his voice barely a breath of sound in the empty hall. "Éowyn..."
How do I begin, he thought, to tell you of a love that was never acknowledged, never spoken of?
How do I begin to tell you of a love that lived only in the silence of my heart? Of a love that was never meant to be, and yet was somehow right?
How do I begin to tell you of the sacrifice I made of my happiness, your happiness, our happiness, for the sake of duty and honor?
How do I begin to tell you of a heart that was promised to another and yet could not help but be touched by your spirit, your grace, your courage, and your devotion?
How do I begin to tell you that you have always been in my heart? That even after all these years - despite Arwen and despite Faramir - I have always kept you in my heart?
How do I begin to tell you all this - these things which I somehow believe you always knew and understood - now, when it is too late?
How do I begin?
His final confession was spoken softly as he knelt. "I love you, Éowyn." It was the first - and the last - time he could say those words, that most deeply-held secret of his heart, aloud.
And finally, he bent and brushed his lips across hers - as he had never done in life.
He stood, his fingers brushing her cheek in a single caress, a conscious repetition of the only caress he had ever given her in life at that moment of denying a truth he could not admit.
"Farewell, my love," he murmured. From somewhere - perhaps in the silence of his mind and heart - he could swear he heard her voice, clear and soft and full of gentle understanding... My liege-lord, my healer, my king... and my love...
He paused, turning back for one last look at her face, so beautiful, so dear, and now filled with the calm of the ages - and he knew that she had somehow understood all along- despite the promises, the honor and the affection for others which had kept them apart, their love had remained, precious and strong and true - and silent. Until now, given a last breath of freedom before it would be buried forever with her...
Then he turned and walked slowly out into the sunlight to look out over the lands which she had known and loved so well.
And there was peace in his heart.