Main Characters: Aragorn, Éowyn
Rating: PG
Pairings: Aragorn/Éowyn
Genre: Drama
Length: Short story
Summary: "Loved I not honor more..."
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Éowyn stared out through the darkness over Pelennor Fields with eyes brimming with tears.
Tears which she valiantly blinked back, refusing to let herself shed them.
She had heard tales, legend! s, told by the old women of Rohan that when tears greeted the dawn of a wedding day, it boded ill for that marriage - and old wives’ tale as it might be, she would not have even the shadow of it hover over the wedding of Aragorn to his beautiful elf-maiden.
No, she would keep her grief inside herself and not let even her own heartbreak dim what should be a happy day. She loved him enough for that. She loved him enough to wish him happy - even if he found that happiness in someone else.
"My lady, you are up early."
Aragorn’s voice was quiet as he joined her.
She started at his voice, her heart reactin! g as it always did no matter how she tried to stop it from doing so, at his nearness, at the sound of his voice, at the - was she imagining it? - the tenderness in it. She could almost imagine the faintest emphasis on the word my - as if she really were his lady…
She tried to smile when she looked at him. "I could not sleep and so I came out here to watch for the dawn."
He sighed and then his eyes narrowed on her face. "Éowyn, you’ve been crying." Her name slipped from his lips without thought, forgetting the more proper title.
She looked away but his hand lifted to touch her cheek lightly, preventing her from doing so.
"Why?" he asked quietly. He could not bear to see her cry.
"It is nothing," she lied but his eyes looked into hers for a fleeting second before she could think to avert them and he saw the lie in it - and the truth.
He caught his breath. "Éowyn, do you cry for me?"
She turned away, unable to stay by his side, unable to bear the tenderness - yes, the tenderness, she could not doubt it now - in his eyes and in his voice when he said her name.
He caught her arm with one hand, sighing heavily. Ah, he had always wished her joy - and now, his honor was causing her tears.
"Éowyn, Éowyn, my love..."
"Do not call me that!" She freed her arm from his touch. "You cannot. You should not. You know you should not." Her voice softened in spite of herself at the look on his face. "I do not blame you. I understand you could not break your promise."
"Ah, Éowyn, if only..." His fingers caressed the skin of her cheek softly, the only caress he would permit himself.
She closed her eyes briefly, as if to savor his touch, and then opened her eyes to meet his.
And in her eyes, he saw love and pain mingled with the most bittersweet acceptance.
"I know," she said softly. "I will return to Rohan and you will remain here. But remember, always, how I loved you and that I wish you only happiness."
She stepped closer and lifted her own hand to touch his cheek gently, her fingers lingering and her touch was a caress, an endearment, and a farewell all at once.
And then she turned and left him.
I could not love thee, dear, so much
Loved I not honor more.
~Richard Lovelace