All names and concepts belong to Tolkien

Legolas had actually come to visit Faramir to discuss a minor problem on the border of their respective halves of Ithilien. At least, that was his excuse; he knew he could easily send a messenger, but he liked riding north to the small human realm, and he liked spending time with Faramir and his wife, Éowyn.

Legolas hadn’t had much to do with Éowyn when he had first gone to Rohan. He had observed her infatuation with Aragorn with a mixture of pity and discomfort; after all, she had been twenty-four, barely more than a child, and nothing good could ever come of her admiration for a man almost four times her age who already had the love of Arwen Undómiel.

Nonetheless, he had to admit as he watched Éowyn laughing at something her husband had said, he had been wrong. Her wild, suicidal grief at Aragorn’s dismissal had seemed to confirm Legolas’ rather unflattering opinion of her youth and inconstancy, but she seemed to have marvellously aged in spirit since then. She was a woman now, no longer a child, and worthy of his respect rather than his pity. Faramir was fortunate indeed.

“You seem quiet tonight, Legolas,” said Éowyn, turning to look at him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking of how much has changed since we three first met.”

Faramir smiled, taking Éowyn’s hand. She looked sideways at him and smiled. Legolas also smiled, looking at them. For a little while he had entertained cruel speculation about how quickly Éowyn had looked from Aragorn to Faramir, but now he inwardly shook his head. No, truly this was no longer the child that had looked wide-eyed at a great hero and wished to spend her life at his side.

And he could not deny his respect for what she had become.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email