Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 22:02:07 GMT
Author: Rebecca Wilkin
Summary: Eowyn learns to embroider just in time for a special occasion
Rated: K
Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the estate of JRR Tolkien
The warm spring breeze blew softly through the scented grasses. Éowyn tilted her face toward the sun’s warmth. She closed her eyes, enjoying a few moments of solace in her garden. The scents of lavender, pine, and roses wafted through the air helping her feel at ease. Suddenly she was startled by a melodic voice behind her.
“What a beautiful garden!” Arwen exclaimed. “You have created a lovely sanctuary here.”
Éowyn sprang to her feet as she regained her sense of propriety. “My lady Queen, forgive me. I was not expecting you.”
The Elven Queen laughed softly. “It is no matter. I am sorry for intruding upon your reverie. If you prefer to be alone, I can certainly take my embroidery elsewhere in the gardens.”
“Nay, there is no need for that,” the Lady of Ithilien protested. “I would welcome the company.” She waited until the queen had seated herself on one of the benches that were woven seamlessly into the garden’s design before resuming her own seat.
“How did you manage to create a garden that is so completely serene and in complete harmony with the land? Even the benches are unobtrusive.”
Éowyn blushed at the Queen’s praise. “I had plenty of help. Several of the Wood Elves that came with Lord Legolas are skilled gardeners, although I would not cheapen their abilities to call them such. They aided me willingly. Though I am certain there were moments where they were amused by the whims of a flighty Rohirric lady.”
Both ladies chuckled at the thought. Éowyn watched as the Elven lady began to embroider an intricate design on the fabric before her.
“What is that you are sewing?” She spoke softly hoping that question would not heralded as intrusive.
Arwen looked up from her work with a smile dispelling the White Lady’s worry. “It is an overlay for a naming day gown. One of my ladies in waiting is close to delivering her first child. As she is dear to me, I decided to gift her with a design of my grandmother’s land.
“It looks beautiful,” Éowyn sighed. “I don’t believe I could ever sew that well.”
Arwen raised a delicate brow. “Were you not taught the feminine arts?”
Éowyn made a face. “I was forced to learn sewing and embroidery but as soon as I was able to slip away from the ladies trying to teach me, I would run to the stables and go riding.” The Lady of Ithilien sighed. “Then my mother died and my brother and I went to live with my Uncle. I was the only girl so my Uncle wasn’t sure what to do with me. I more or less did as I pleased which was playing with a wooden sword rather than needle and thread.” Her eyes became sad. “I would like to be able to embroider a gown for my daughter if Bema should bless me with one, but I fear my skills are sorely lacking.”
“Would you like me to teach you?” Arwen asked, sensing the younger woman’s unspoken desire.
“I could not impose on you in such a manner,” Éowyn protested.
“It’s not an imposition. I would enjoy teaching you.”
“I would be honored to learn from you.”
In the days and months that followed, Éowyn worked diligently to improve her embroidery skills under the careful tutelage of the Elven Queen. A strong friendship began to develop as well through the lessons, so much so that Arwen was only the second person to learn that Éowyn was with child. Ithilien’s Lady focused her intentions on a naming day gown for her own child. With the Queen’s help, she created an overlay depicting a running horse in front of the White Tree of Gondor. She carefully stitched the design onto a silvery gown that had the obligatory ruffles but not so feminine that it couldn’t be worn by a little boy. Her excitement grew as her belly swelled with her coming child. Faramir watched the two women bending over the garment, one blonde head, and one brunette, both placing tiny even stitches in the hem of the gown.
“It would seem that our ladies are enjoying their afternoon,” Aragorn commented as he joined his Steward.
“I believe that this project as awakened Éowyn’s love for sewing. I’ve never known her to enjoy it until Queen Arwen began to teach her the art.”
“Perchance it is also her impending delivery that has changed her mood?”
“I should think it was a little of both,” Faramir admitted. “However, she is happy and that is all that matters.”
A few weeks later, Eldarion made his entrance into Arda with all of the gusto worthy of the Steward’s House. Shortly thereafter, he made his first courtly appearance before the King wearing the gown that had been painstakingly created by Gondor’s leading ladies and everyone present marveled and admired the newest member of the Steward’s line. Éowyn watched as her son was blessed by the King, happiness radiating from her being. Arwen caught her eye and smiled broadly at her friend’s joy.
Summary: Eowyn learns to embroider just in time for a special occasion
Rated: K
Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the estate of JRR Tolkien
The warm spring breeze blew softly through the scented grasses. Éowyn tilted her face toward the sun’s warmth. She closed her eyes, enjoying a few moments of solace in her garden. The scents of lavender, pine, and roses wafted through the air helping her feel at ease. Suddenly she was startled by a melodic voice behind her.
“What a beautiful garden!” Arwen exclaimed. “You have created a lovely sanctuary here.”
Éowyn sprang to her feet as she regained her sense of propriety. “My lady Queen, forgive me. I was not expecting you.”
The Elven Queen laughed softly. “It is no matter. I am sorry for intruding upon your reverie. If you prefer to be alone, I can certainly take my embroidery elsewhere in the gardens.”
“Nay, there is no need for that,” the Lady of Ithilien protested. “I would welcome the company.” She waited until the queen had seated herself on one of the benches that were woven seamlessly into the garden’s design before resuming her own seat.
“How did you manage to create a garden that is so completely serene and in complete harmony with the land? Even the benches are unobtrusive.”
Éowyn blushed at the Queen’s praise. “I had plenty of help. Several of the Wood Elves that came with Lord Legolas are skilled gardeners, although I would not cheapen their abilities to call them such. They aided me willingly. Though I am certain there were moments where they were amused by the whims of a flighty Rohirric lady.”
Both ladies chuckled at the thought. Éowyn watched as the Elven lady began to embroider an intricate design on the fabric before her.
“What is that you are sewing?” She spoke softly hoping that question would not heralded as intrusive.
Arwen looked up from her work with a smile dispelling the White Lady’s worry. “It is an overlay for a naming day gown. One of my ladies in waiting is close to delivering her first child. As she is dear to me, I decided to gift her with a design of my grandmother’s land.
“It looks beautiful,” Éowyn sighed. “I don’t believe I could ever sew that well.”
Arwen raised a delicate brow. “Were you not taught the feminine arts?”
Éowyn made a face. “I was forced to learn sewing and embroidery but as soon as I was able to slip away from the ladies trying to teach me, I would run to the stables and go riding.” The Lady of Ithilien sighed. “Then my mother died and my brother and I went to live with my Uncle. I was the only girl so my Uncle wasn’t sure what to do with me. I more or less did as I pleased which was playing with a wooden sword rather than needle and thread.” Her eyes became sad. “I would like to be able to embroider a gown for my daughter if Bema should bless me with one, but I fear my skills are sorely lacking.”
“Would you like me to teach you?” Arwen asked, sensing the younger woman’s unspoken desire.
“I could not impose on you in such a manner,” Éowyn protested.
“It’s not an imposition. I would enjoy teaching you.”
“I would be honored to learn from you.”
In the days and months that followed, Éowyn worked diligently to improve her embroidery skills under the careful tutelage of the Elven Queen. A strong friendship began to develop as well through the lessons, so much so that Arwen was only the second person to learn that Éowyn was with child. Ithilien’s Lady focused her intentions on a naming day gown for her own child. With the Queen’s help, she created an overlay depicting a running horse in front of the White Tree of Gondor. She carefully stitched the design onto a silvery gown that had the obligatory ruffles but not so feminine that it couldn’t be worn by a little boy. Her excitement grew as her belly swelled with her coming child. Faramir watched the two women bending over the garment, one blonde head, and one brunette, both placing tiny even stitches in the hem of the gown.
“It would seem that our ladies are enjoying their afternoon,” Aragorn commented as he joined his Steward.
“I believe that this project as awakened Éowyn’s love for sewing. I’ve never known her to enjoy it until Queen Arwen began to teach her the art.”
“Perchance it is also her impending delivery that has changed her mood?”
“I should think it was a little of both,” Faramir admitted. “However, she is happy and that is all that matters.”
A few weeks later, Eldarion made his entrance into Arda with all of the gusto worthy of the Steward’s House. Shortly thereafter, he made his first courtly appearance before the King wearing the gown that had been painstakingly created by Gondor’s leading ladies and everyone present marveled and admired the newest member of the Steward’s line. Éowyn watched as her son was blessed by the King, happiness radiating from her being. Arwen caught her eye and smiled broadly at her friend’s joy.