Day to Day

Aug. 3rd, 2013 12:01 pm
deaalmon: (lady and the king)
[personal profile] deaalmon
Name: Day to Day
Author: Ashe
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 951
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters/Pairings: Eowyn/Aragorn (one sided?)
Summary: Even in the shadow of the world's great happenings, the day to day running of Edoras was little changed.
For: [community profile] trope_bingo "curtainfic"

Even in the shadow of the world's great happenings, the day to day running of Edoras was little changed. Eowyn was thankful to have her dear uncle back from the dark place his mind had been enchanted, though she found herself excluded in many ways from him and his council not that he had regained the strength of his arm. Eomer was still far gone, and her kinsman lay dead beneath the hills even now, where she'd sung of his stories. He would feast forever with their ancestors now, and would not thank her to weep for him.

She rose early, as was her habit, and dressed for the day. She had little to do in Edoras hall, and she craved the freedom that the town itself offered her. She dressed in boots practical for walking, and brought her carry basket with her. The guards she passed in the hall barely acknowledged her, which suited her mood.

The air outside was cool and moist, the sun barely peeking out over the horizon. She paused for a moment on the wide front step of the hall, inhaling the crisp scent of the air, already feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to ease somewhat. She was so wrapped up in the feeling that she didn't realize that she wasn't alone until she caught the scent of pipeweed smoke. Frowning, she cast her eyes around, finally catching sight of a dark head off to her right. A smile on her face, and her spirits lifting, she approached.

"My Lord Aragorn?"

He shifted to look at her, inclining his head. She clasped her hands in front of her, polite and unobtrusive.

"I apologize for interrupting, but I thought perhaps you might like to join me? I am headed down into the village for a time, to do some shopping." A nice, quaint act. Anything that might dispel some of the tension around his eyes, or maybe that sadness there?

He seemed to take a long time to consider, but it was only a heartbeat or two. Finally he nodded.

"I would be honored, Lady Eowyn." He rose from his perch, and she wondered how long he had been there. He did not move as one whose joints had grown stiff with the cold, though, so she simply stepped aside and allowed him to match her step for step as she moved down the stairs and towards the small market in the village center.

She nodded greetings as she walked, and she caught the knowing glint of several villagers who smiled at her. It warmed her. Her choice. Her uncle had said she'd chosen well, and this confirmed it for her. Aragorn was an honorable fighter, one of the rangers from the north. She knew little else about him, though he seemed to have made a good impression on her people.

She was feeling altogether cheered by the time they reached the market. Tables and areas set up selling fine worked belts and knives, a farmer bringing vegetables to market, saddles and tack worked out of leather with bits of silver. She had come here often growing up, and the people all knew her. She led the way to an old woman who sold roasted meats wrapped in thick, brown bread. She ordered two, and handed one to Aragorn, who eyed it with caution.

"Try it," she encouraged. She bit into hers without hesitation, savoring the taste. The woman used some spice she could never pick out. Still, it was wonderful, and Eowyn was somewhat cheered when Aragorn bit into his thoughtfully.

"It is very good." he admitted, and she brightened.

"I told you as much!" She laughed to herself and led the way further in. They admired wares, and she saw him considering over a fine worked scabbard for a knife. She'd eyed the knife he carried, surely of Elvish design, and she was doubtful that he would find a scabbard to match it. As if thinking the same, he did not buy it, and they moved on.

They came to a weaver's table, and Eowyn smiled at the old man who sat there. She addressed him by name, asking after his health. His gnarled old hands pained him in cool weather. He was a weaver, or had been when he could still do the work. His daughter had been primed to take over the trade, but she'd died in childbed the previous winter. His granddaughter, though, appeared from behind the tent. She was maybe ten years old, but already showing promise with deft fingers.

"Lady Eowyn!" Eowyn smiled graciously, and the little girl bobbed a little curtsey before rushing forward. "You have to see my new tapestry!" She grabbed Eowyn's hand and dragged her behind the table and into the tent. Aragorn followed, quietly.

The little girl, Eir, chattered on about the piece, which was half completed. "It's a summer patter, see the warm green and gray colors? Papa said that he may even be able to sell it when I'm done! My first sale!"

Eowyn admired the piece, then turned to smile down at the girl. "It is lovely, Eir. I'm so proud of you."

Aragorn admired the piece, gently touching the wool, and she gave him a look when she straightened. They didn't say anything at first, but when he led her out, something had changed, and she didn't know why. He seemed more distant, unable to speak, or unwilling.

Their domestic moment was broken, and even though he carried her basket back to the hall for her, he returned it to her and disappeared as soon as they crossed the threshold. She couldn't imagine what she'd done to offend him.
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