Fic: Hiding in the Shadows
Author: platysseus
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings [AU]
Rating: PG
Word Count: 442
Characters: Éowyn, Faramir, my OC, & somebody who stays alive in my LotR world. ;)
Spoilers?: Only if you haven't read the book or seen the extended edition of RotK.
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings was written by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Notes: Written for a themiddleearth challenge. But I also co-wrote a LotR fanfic eight years ago (that never got past Amon Hen), and this fic is based within that "verse". I hope to get back to that fic one day, even without my co-writer's help.
Prompt?: This picture.
Summary: Somebody watches Éowyn & Faramir from across the House of Healing courtyard.
Feedback: Appreciated.
She watched them from the shadows. The war was over for them; their injuries had caused them enough pain, but Braeden knew there was more to their surrender than that. They’d each battled through their own personal enemies, on their own, and without much comfort from their families.
Éowyn was a born warrior - she’d been bred to fight, and yet she knew she’d be forced not to just because she was female. There would only be household duties and attending to the king, and possibly having to marry a man from a rich family who wanted nothing more than better standing in Rohan society. That was no life for her; Éowyn would have welcomed death much sooner there than on the battlefield.
Braeden understood the yearning that Éowyn felt. She’d been bred to fight too, but the idea that she would be subject to anything else never occurred to her. It wasn’t part of her life. Living among the trees and wild animals was all that she’d ever known until her mother passed. The need for more than that surpassed her desire to stay safe. Braeden ventured out with only the encouraging words of her mother and the combat skills instilled in her by her father’s training. The superficial things like gender, skin colour and general mysteriousness would have to be dealt with later.
“What are you thinking about?”
Braeden turned and smiled at the man beside her. The bandage around his waist peeked out from under his shirt. She clasped his hand and led him away from the courtyard. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “Faramir is still recovering.”
The man peered out at the two figures. “Who is he with?”
“Her name is Éowyn. She came with the Rohirrim.”
“And she knows my brother, how?”
“They’ve both been recovering from their injuries, Boromir.” Before he asked, Braeden put a finger to his mouth and answered his question. “She fought the Witch-king. She killed him.”
Boromir’s brow rose. He smiled, “A warrior.” He rubbed Braeden’s cheek with his thumb, “Now I see why you’ve been spying on them.” He cupped her chin when she opened her mouth and kissed her before any words spilled out. “I’ll let him rest. We should check on the others.”
Braeden nodded and glanced at the promising frame of Éowyn and Faramir, but her eyes caught the glimpse of an odd shape in the air. And then another. Braeden gasped, “Eagles!”
Boromir peered at the sight as well, but when he realised Éowyn was watching them he slunk back around the corner. “Let us go. The war is almost over. Our new king will soon return.”
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings [AU]
Rating: PG
Word Count: 442
Characters: Éowyn, Faramir, my OC, & somebody who stays alive in my LotR world. ;)
Spoilers?: Only if you haven't read the book or seen the extended edition of RotK.
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings was written by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Notes: Written for a themiddleearth challenge. But I also co-wrote a LotR fanfic eight years ago (that never got past Amon Hen), and this fic is based within that "verse". I hope to get back to that fic one day, even without my co-writer's help.
Prompt?: This picture.
Summary: Somebody watches Éowyn & Faramir from across the House of Healing courtyard.
Feedback: Appreciated.
She watched them from the shadows. The war was over for them; their injuries had caused them enough pain, but Braeden knew there was more to their surrender than that. They’d each battled through their own personal enemies, on their own, and without much comfort from their families.
Éowyn was a born warrior - she’d been bred to fight, and yet she knew she’d be forced not to just because she was female. There would only be household duties and attending to the king, and possibly having to marry a man from a rich family who wanted nothing more than better standing in Rohan society. That was no life for her; Éowyn would have welcomed death much sooner there than on the battlefield.
Braeden understood the yearning that Éowyn felt. She’d been bred to fight too, but the idea that she would be subject to anything else never occurred to her. It wasn’t part of her life. Living among the trees and wild animals was all that she’d ever known until her mother passed. The need for more than that surpassed her desire to stay safe. Braeden ventured out with only the encouraging words of her mother and the combat skills instilled in her by her father’s training. The superficial things like gender, skin colour and general mysteriousness would have to be dealt with later.
“What are you thinking about?”
Braeden turned and smiled at the man beside her. The bandage around his waist peeked out from under his shirt. She clasped his hand and led him away from the courtyard. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “Faramir is still recovering.”
The man peered out at the two figures. “Who is he with?”
“Her name is Éowyn. She came with the Rohirrim.”
“And she knows my brother, how?”
“They’ve both been recovering from their injuries, Boromir.” Before he asked, Braeden put a finger to his mouth and answered his question. “She fought the Witch-king. She killed him.”
Boromir’s brow rose. He smiled, “A warrior.” He rubbed Braeden’s cheek with his thumb, “Now I see why you’ve been spying on them.” He cupped her chin when she opened her mouth and kissed her before any words spilled out. “I’ll let him rest. We should check on the others.”
Braeden nodded and glanced at the promising frame of Éowyn and Faramir, but her eyes caught the glimpse of an odd shape in the air. And then another. Braeden gasped, “Eagles!”
Boromir peered at the sight as well, but when he realised Éowyn was watching them he slunk back around the corner. “Let us go. The war is almost over. Our new king will soon return.”