The Arrivals
by Pirate Fairy

Five weeks. Five long, miserable weeks Eowyn had waited. And now he was finally home. She stood in the white courtyard of Minas Tirith, waiting to greet him.

Faramir and the King had gone to see the eastern defences and overview some of the work being done there. Eowyn would have gladly gone with them but, in her condition, walking was becoming a burden. And it wasn’t until Faramir pointed it out that she realised this and, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to stay in Minas Tirith.

  Oh, how she longed to hold him, touch his face, tangle her hands in his raven hair, taste the sweet of his lips. She looked down to the large bump that was her abdomen and smiled. The baby would be born soon. How glad she was that Faramir would be there to see the birth of their child.

The sound of approaching hooves caught her attention. She looked up anxiously. She saw the King first and, although she smiled and bowed, she stood up quickly, straining her neck to try and spot him. Then there he was. And it was all she could do to stop herself running toward him.


Faramir sat tall and proud upon his horse but his eyes were also sifting through the crowd, trying to spot his Eowyn. But she was hard to miss. He saw her, clad in white and wearing the starry mantle he gave her in the Houses of Healing. Her golden hair was being blown across her face by the wind and her smile when their eyes met left him breathless.

Faramir, smiling, jumped off his horse and made his way as fast as he could through the labyrinth of people. His smile soon turned to a grin when he took her in his arms. Tears started pouring down her face. 

Faramir lifted her head and smiled. “Are you not happy to see me?” he teased.

Through her tears, she smiled. “I missed you so much.”

 “I missed you too,” Faramir whispered and kissed her, as desperately as man dying of thirst would drink water and caring not that everyone could see them.

Reluctantly, they parted for air and looked into each other’s eyes. Eowyn rested her head on his chest and let out a contented sigh. They stood there for a while, glad to be with the other.

Suddenly, Eowyn felt a pain in her abdomen. She gasped and grabbed Faramir’s arm tightly.

“Eowyn…” he said, worry in his voice and face.

“Faramir…” she gasped, her hand resting on her stomach. “I…I think it’s happening.”

Faramir instantly knew what she meant. He thought about his first child every day while he was away.

“Ioreth!” he called to the woman, who was standing not far away. “Please come and help!”


It was 6 hours later before Faramir could see Eowyn again. He hadn’t been allowed in the room with her but was constantly pacing outside it. He had fought many battles but this was more frightening than any of them.

He entered the room and saw Eowyn lying on the bed, smiling at him. Her hair was loose and tangled and her cheeks were red but she still looked beautiful. He walked slowly over to her and in her arms he saw the most wonderful thing. A tiny baby. A grin came to his face. All that terror for this?

“It’s a boy,” Eowyn whispered, sleepily.

“And he’s beautiful, just like his mother.” Faramir kissed her on the forehead.

“I think he looks like his father,” she replied. “And I want you to name him.”


“I want you to name our son.”

“But…but Eowyn,” Faramir stuttered. “Shouldn’t we…”

She cut him off. “Please Faramir.” She muttered and smiled at him. He couldn’t refuse her.

He looked at their son and smiled. Eowyn was right. He did look like his father. Then, slowly but surely, a small smiled crept upon the tiny lips. And Faramir had the perfect name.

“Hello Elboron,” he whispered.

“It’s perfect” Eowyn said, resting her head on his shoulder.