what once was

what once was
eowyn & eomer & faramir & boromir

1-beginnings of Shadows

1.1 - so, so fair

Golden hair flowing down from the crown of her head, slight flush on her cheeks, small smile, a beautiful white dress, and she is what you make of her. If you choose to believe so, she is beautiful. If you see her as radiant, than so she is. She would be easily molded now, could be sculpted into the perfect young girl, were it not for her love of horses, of fighting, of war.

She of Eorl's house delights in destroying her enemies, in grinding them into dust, so nothing would be left. She is still young, still vulnerable, yet with an underlying steel that goes unnoticed by most, enabling her to trap them with her piercing grey gaze. She sees much more than she would let you believe and at times more than you believe anyone could see.

Fair and cold as is her line, she may stand completely still and fool you into believing her serious attitude; then, swift as lightning, giggle and run to her uncle's horse, whom she always borrows, and ride off across the plains of Rohan.

1.2 - bound

He was older, living under a different set of rules. He had to uphold his father's name and seem mature. And, well, he did that, just not the way anyone wanted him to. And his father didn't get to see him exemplify the family name...

His father would never see him again.

Oh, how he longed for what once was, when he had his parents, and the giddy smiles of his sister, and the warmth and sincerity of his uncle.

Now there was only his cold sister, his distant and aloof uncle, and his horse.

Happiness fled as the Shadow neared, and he feared never would his sister smile again, never would his uncle pat his head and let him race the Riders of the Riddermark, never would he himself be at peace.

Restless-always.

The clock never stopped, and he moved in time with it, waking, sleeping.

Dark would be his future if it were not headed off soon.

1.3 - distance

He was always far from the rest, unwanted. Father never cared for him, always kept him at a distance. Everything was his brother, who was so perfect and good and light that he loved him, but wished to hate him, wished he could.

He had a room with a window facing Mordor, and each night he would fall asleep staring at Barad-dur, hoping it would fall in the night, that Sauron's power would fail him.

It never seemed to heed his pleas, ever burning, creeping up on Gondor.

The Shadow moved slowly, cautiously, yet he still noticed its waxing under cloak of darkness.

He wanted only pure freedom, to be recognized as himself, not as the brother of his brother. Why couldn't his brother be the younger brother? Always overshadowing him in every way, he wished for once he could reign over his brother, be the victor in an invisible never-ending battle of strengths and weaknesses.

If only.

1.4 - his father

His father wished for him to forsake his brother, to turn him away at the gates of Gondor. He couldn't do that, for blood was blood and relatives were relatives, simple as that. Though he knew he would always be seen as the "better" of the brothers, he knew just as well that label was subjective and fickle. It could easily change with the rising of the sun, and he only wished to have earned it, never to keep it.

It wasn't as important to him as it was to his father. His father hated his brother, perhaps because of his mother.

Most likely.

If that was the reason, he knew in his heart that it wasn't his brother's fault. No, it certainly wasn't. Ill health, curse of the Shadow, darkness of mind... Any of those factors could have caused it, but it was not his brother.

No, never his brother.

His brother had always a cross to bear upon his back; and he would never add to it, no, never.

Love was all that kept his brother with him; and he wished always to have a brother, for he feared to be alone, when anything could touch him, could take him, could shatter him.