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#eowyn and faramir
autistook · 1 month
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March 20th - Faramir meets Éowyn in the Houses of Healing
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kai-janik-art · 6 months
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Éowyn and Faramir - 2023
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darklinaforever · 4 months
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You see, although the movies didn't give Faramir and Eowyn the development they have in the books, instead having them come together in a sort of mutual love at first sight ; Well when we look at the characters in the movies, they always have a lot of parallels with each other which completely helps explain their union. Like soul mates meeting. While yes, the books lean even more heavily on their romance and compatibility. But the heart always seems to be there for me in adaptation.
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thranduilofsmirkwood · 7 months
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jmoonjones · 1 year
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It's that time of year again!
I read the books for the first time before the movies and I ended up just picturing Faramir with super long hair because of this quote. Like waist length. Denethor would probably not approve.
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popjunkie42 · 4 months
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Blossoming in Winter: Chapter 2
@witchlingsandwyverns - Chapter 2 is here for you! Thank you for your patience while I wrestle with my story. I'm quite enjoying it, but it has some very particular thoughts about the way it is told and I've been editing a fair amount! Chapter 2 was also getting quite lengthy, so I've split it up a bit and this fic is now 5 whole chapters.
Summary: An AU that takes place at the end of the first war with Hybern against the human-faerie alliance. In this story, Tamlin is young but of age, and took up arms against his own father and brothers, leading a rebellious Spring army on the side of the human-fairie alliance. Feyre, a fae of spring without any wealth or illustrious parentage, joined the rebellious army as a way to support her family, and quickly moved up the ranks into Tamlin’s archery guard.
As the war starts to turn in favor of the land of Prythian and those that would defend and release the humans from faerie rule, High Lord Thesan of the Dawn Court opens up his palace and access to his healers for the High Lords, their families, and those with wounds that cannot be cured by normal means.
Inspired by the story of Faramir and Eowyn in Lord of the Rings: Return of the King.
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Blossoming in Winter (read on AO3)
Chapter 2: Maiden, Young and Sad
Rhysand offers a gift and a bargain. Feyre learns more about the Prince's role in the war, and entertains an unexpected visitor.
All the thanks to @temperedink, @witch-and-her-witcher and @wilde-knight for the beta read and encouragement! And thank you to @acotargiftexchange and all the organizers for this amazing event.
I'm also going to repost my playlist as I've been listening to it incessantly as I write!
Chapter snippet below the cut!
This night, Feyre was determined to ignore the Prince as his loud steps and the clip of his cane alerted her to his approaching presence. Her posture stiffened on the balcony and she fixed her eyes to the sun-bled horizon once again.
But a second, softer set of footsteps followed after him, and curiosity had always been one of her vices.
When Feyre turned she saw his wings first, those dark harbingers of nightmares casting shadows against the flickering torches along the balcony, now awkwardly tied and stretched open into positions for healing. And behind the bandaged male, a fae wreathed in dark smoke, her slender hands holding a folded cloak colored the deep inky blue of a summer sky just after sunset, covered in tiny gems of starlight. 
The wraith approached and wrapped the cloak around Feyre’s shoulders, smiling lightly before she faded back into shadow. 
“What is this?” Feyre asked, feeling the fine shimmering fabric beneath her fingers.
“It’s my mother’s,” Rhysand answered, taking her measure in it.
She looked at him and felt her heartbeat quicken under that keen gaze. She was annoyed at her impulsive reaction to his eyes that seemed to sparkle with stars, to the sight of his fine ridged nose and high cheekbones. She willed herself to look away. “Why do you have your mother’s cloak here?”
“My brothers were visiting from home and I told her I had need of it.”
“Why would you need your mother’s cloak?”
Rhysand’s face was amused, his lips twitching at the corners.
Feyre felt her face heat. “Oh.”
“You seemed to be chilled, the other night,” he said flatly, turning towards the night sky. 
Feyre nodded and pulled the cloak tighter around her left side. The warmth was welcome but her blush deepened as she considered the fine gift. Coming from Spring injured and half-dazed as she had been, it seemed no one had remembered the seasons continued outside of their endless warmth and bloom. She had come to Dawn woefully unprepared in her light army fare.
“Is it ice that affects you? Your arm.” The Prince asked casually, as though inquiring about her breakfast.
“Why?” Always with him, the question echoed in her mind.
“You seemed to react to the cold.”
Feyre lifted an eyebrow. “And?”
Rhysand turned his head to face her fully, his body remaining still as to not jostle his wings. “Fine. My spies and the gossiping nurses tell me that no one actually knows what happened to you in the Middle, or what you suffer from. You haven’t told a soul, at least not one that’s talking. Rare for war, when information is currency.” He said with an inquiring tilt of his head.
“So you want more information for your Night Court spies?”
Rhysand frowned. “I’m saying if you haven’t spoken of it yet, then doing so might bring you some comfort, and I’m happy to lend an ear. Soldier to soldier. And don’t you think you should tell the warden what hurt you? To aid in finding a cure?”
“There is no cure,” she said with certainty. 
“How can you be sure?”
Feyre ground her teeth. He truly refused to leave well alone. “You said information is currency, which suggests I should put a price on my story. Hard to do if I share it willingly, soldier to soldier .”
His eyes sparked. “What would be your price, then?”
Something inside her recoiled at the thought of making bargains with silver-tongued Princes. Ones who thought they could buy information with gold. “If I tell you, they would be the last words you ever hear from me, as I’d require you to stick to your side of the healing wing for the rest of your stay.”
A low grumble came from the back of his throat. “What a terrible bargain to make on my side.” He tapped his fingers in a frantic pattern on the stone wall he leaned upon, then pulled back and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Is my company truly so offensive to you?”
Feyre scoffed. “Have you been trying to be pleasant?”
He stared at her, and she wished not for the first time that she could read his mind. “Fine. Perhaps I have been somewhat obnoxious.” His hands were out again, absently tracing the mortar on stone as he regarded her.  “I told you Lady Feyre, I wish for us to be friends. And haven’t I helped you, brought you gifts, shown you I have only concern for your welfare?”
“And a Lord worth knowing further would expect something in return for all this?”
“Are you always this stubborn and willful?” She answered him only with a stare. “Fine,” he returned. “You don’t trust me, believe me to be a cad and a spy. But there’s little else to do here besides wander and feel our wounds dripping, so let me be the more interesting option. If we’re speaking of costs and bargains, how about this? Walk with me, twice a day for company, and you won’t have to answer a single question you don’t wish to. I’ll promise to be on my best behavior, and to prove it I’ll offer you one thought, one wholly true thing, in exchange for the same of you.”
To Feyre’s ears it had the makings of a terrible bargain. But just as quick the thought of her salve-scented room floated through her mind, and of the long, quiet hours where she felt her skin being devoured by the cold magic on her body. And inside of her there was a small, scared part that recoiled from the thought of being alone, so close to her end. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad, if she could escape from sharing too much with him. 
“Once a day,” she answered.  “And I’m not going to tell you about what happened in the forest.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Of course. Your choice.”
“And I won’t be tricked or bargained into revealing anything about Ta - Prince Tamlin, or the Spring armies.”
“You’re certainly the picture of a loyal subject. Is Tamlin writing to you so often, sharing secrets you must protect?”
Feyre ignored his obvious bait. Her brow furrowed as she ran through the words of the bargain in her mind. “You said you would tell me one honest truth.”
He cocked his head. “Is that your condition, and then you agree?”
She nodded. And then gasped, as she felt a warm, tingling sensation snake against her wrist. Turning it towards her, she saw the dark ink of a tattoo - a simple rose with the three stars of the Night Court atop it like a crown. 
Rhysand shrugged under her glare. “It’s custom in my court for bargains to be marked on the flesh.” He motioned to her with a flourish. “Ask your question.”
(Read on AO3)
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emvidal · 3 days
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"The city has fallen silent! There is no warmth left in the sun, it grows so cold."
"It is just the damp of the first spring rain.
I do not believe this darkness will endure!"
Faramir meeting Éowyn in the gardens of the Houses of Healing, watching the Army of the West march for Morannon. ~Hope~
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Comment down on why you chose said character?
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madalore1994 · 2 years
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autistook · 26 days
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'And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many.'
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southfarthing · 8 months
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remember when éowyn first met faramir and immediately thought "ah yes. this is a guy who could wipe the floor with any soldier of rohan." bc I think about it a lot
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Conversation
Éowyn: Aggressive hand holding.
Faramir: Okay. How does it work?
Éowyn: We arm wrestle as an excuse to hold hands.
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darklinaforever · 4 months
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I love these two so much ! (I love them just as much as Beren & Luthien, and Eol & Aredhel !)
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thranduilofsmirkwood · 9 months
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