To distract herself Éowyn counted back the days, the years.
Six years ago, today, she first saw Faramir in the House of Healing. Pale he had been, yet with the body of a warrior, and a sad, gentle, smile.
Both understood what the other felt – the cold, bleak, pain that froze both blood and heart – each had helped the other thaw and heal.
But now – the tight, sharp, pain gripped her once again, and she cursed Faramir loudly for bringing her to this for a second time.
If men felt labour pains, she thought, there would be few younger sons…
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Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
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Of course a few hours later it will occur to her that both she and Faramir are second children... but the female mind is not all that logical at the moment in the drabble!


