Finduilas, Daughter of Faramir and Eowyn
By Alatariel Ancalime

Finduilas, Daughter of Faramir and Eowyn, Great Niece of Theoden, Granddaughter of Denethor, Great Granddaughter of Ecthelion, sighed. She hated being torn between two nations. She loved Rohan and it’s people, it’s ways, but she felt compelled to live in Gondor, where her father served under King Aragorn. Her mother was niece of the king of Rohan, Theoden, yet her father was son of the last steward of Gondor, Denethor. Her heart belonged to Rohan, but she knew that Gondor was where her loyalty lay.

In the White City, everything was busy, and crowded. The only place in Minas Tirith that she could relax was when she was in her chamber, overlooking the wide expanse between Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. Her mother, Eowyn, could tell that Finduilas was torn between her homeland and Gondor. Eowyn and Faramir told her that If she wanted to live in Rohan, that for her sixteenth birthday, she could move to Edoras. Finduilas wanted that desperately, but she didn’t want to hurt her father’s feelings. She was turning sixteen in a week, and she needed to decide. In Rohan, she could have a horse of her own, and ride it whenever she wanted. She could walk in the vastness of the plains, and sit among the Simbelmyne that she so loved. She could live at Edoras with her relatives on her mother’s side, and be perfectly happy. The only disadvantage was that she would not be able to see her parents or the royalty of Gondor often.

In Gondor, She would be with her parents, and King Aragorn, and Queen Arwen. She would have the company of her friends that lived in Gondor, and she could live forever in the White City of Minas Tirith. Yet she would not be able to walk and run in the meadows of The Riddermark, nor feel the wind on her face as she stood on the balcony of the palace in Edoras.

She was contemplating this decision when she heard a knock at her door.

“Finduilas, May I come in?” It was Auriel, Finduilas’ best friend. Auriel was the daughter of King Aragorn and Queen Arwen. She and Finduilas had been best friends since they were babies. Where Auriel was shy and quiet, Finduilas was bold, and adventurous. Despite their differences, they got along perfectly, and had nary a quarrel.
“Of course, Aury.” Finduilas said, using her pet name for Princess Auriel.

Auriel slipped into Finduilas’ chamber, and sat on her bed.

“What’s wrong, Auriel?”
“I will miss you greatly if you leave for Rohan.”
“Well, I haven’t decided if I’m leaving or not.”
“You want to go.”
“You know how I feel, Aury. I want to, but I’m worried father will be hurt.”
“Well, this is his homeland.”
“I know.”
“Will you visit often if you go to live in The Riddermark?”
“Well, if by often you mean once every other month or so, yes, if you mean once a week, no.”
“Can I visit you in Edoras, or would that be frowned upon by your great uncle?”
“Of course you can come and visit, Auriel, Uncle Theoden won’t mind.”
“Good.”
“Do you think I should go?”
“I think that if Rohan is where you truly long to be, than yes, why deny yourself the pleasure of the country?”
“But, Fath-“
“Your father will understand.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do.”
“I’m going to miss you, Aur.”


The next morning, Finduilas told her mother what she had decided. Eowyn wrote her uncle, and told him that Finduilas would be coming to live in Edoras with him. Eowyn made Finduilas a new wardrobe of roomy gowns in the style of the Rohirrim. Finduilas was ecstatic; no more frilly long silk dresses, which were constantly getting their poor hems ripped out by awkward feet hurrying across Minas Tirith’s cobbled roads. Eowyn pulled out one of her old Rohirric dresses for Finduilas to try on for size. It was made of lightweight material in a no-nonsense style, with wide sleeves and a high waist. This was exactly what Finduilas longed to wear.

Talking with her father was harder. Finduilas knocked on the door of the library where he was studying maps of Middle-Earth.

“Come in” was his distracted response.
“Father, I have decided where I wish to live.” She said, with anxiety coating her voice like too much honey on toast. Faramir was all ears now. He turned to her, motioning her to sit in the chair opposite him.
“Yes, Induil?” He asked, using his special name for her, ever since the first moment she had screamed in his arms as a newborn.
“I wish to live in The Riddermark, under Uncle Theoden’s watchful eye.”
“Your mother and I will miss you dearly.” He said.
She rushed into her father’s open arms, and managed to choke out between sobs, “I will miss you!” After a few minutes, when she had regained her composure, she said to her father, “My heart is in the plains of Rohan, and with the horses. I long for open air and the sweet, musky smell of the Simbelmyne. I cannot live without the beautiful meadows, and the sunsets, father, when I am here, in the bustling city--“he smiled at her choice of words to describe Minas Tirith. –-“I feel as though I am missing a part of my soul; a part of me that forever dwells in the fields of Rohan.” He smiled at his eloquent daughter’s choice of words. She should be a poet, he thought.

“I know how you feel, although for me, I cannot live without the ‘bustling city’ as you called it.”
“Really?” she asked, shocked; she was unaware that anyone could love the ‘bustling city’ so much that they couldn’t live without it.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, when I was little, I went to live in Rohan for a year or so, to learn about the country, and I couldn’t stand it. I felt drawn to the people, and the hurry and bustle, every part of me longed for the roads and houses of The White City.”

The next week she left for Rohan.