No matter how much (Y/n) did not want to hurt Éowyn's feelings, she could not take another bite of the stew that she had made. It was not what she had in mind when her stomach growled for food.
The people of Edoras had stopped for the night, and Éowyn had taken it upon herself to make stew for everyone. Gimli had tried it as well, and had the same reaction that (Y/n) did. When Éowyn was not looking, they dumped it out and pretended to eat the rest. The joy on the blonde's face was something (Y/n) did not want to diminish.
She sat by Aragorn, who was sharpening his sword, and looked to see Éowyn offering Gimli a bit more stew, but he refused politely. Her gaze turned to Aragorn, who looked up at her shy face, but she gathered herself.
"I made some stew." she said, and (Y/n) coughed back telling Aragorn not to eat it. "It isn't much, but it's hot."
She dipped a bowl into the cauldron the stew was in, and handed Aragorn the bowl and a spoon. He said his thanks, and dipped the spoon in, taking one of the chunks of meat. He ate it, and (Y/n) looked down to her arrows, which she was checking over, and tried to conceal the laugh that threatened to escape as she looked at his face. He was trying so hard not to cringe back or spit it out for Éowyn's sake. He slightly elbowed (Y/n), making her jump and turn back to glare at him.
"It's good." he croaked.
"Really?" Éowyn smiled. As she walked away, Aragorn looked at the stew in shock and disgust.
"Why did you not warn me?" he harshly whispered to (Y/n), who was now laughing aloud.
"I wanted to see your reaction." she answered, and he glared at her. He went to dump out the stew, but Éowyn came back, making him quickly put it back in front of him and grabbed the spoon to make it seem like he was eating.
"My uncle told me a strange thing." she said, looking back at Aragorn. He grimaced, almost uncatchable, but looked to her. "He said that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."
"King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time." Aragorn said, and (Y/n) recalled their conversation in Moria, about his lineage.
"Then you must be at least sixty." Éowyn bent down to his level, confusion etched in her face. When Aragorn did not answer. "Seventy? But you cannot be eighty!"
"Eighty-seven." he said, and Éowyn stood in shock.
"You are one of the Dúnedain. A descendant of Númenor blessed with long life." she said in awe, and Aragorn's nod confirmed her statement. "It was said that your race has passed into legend."
"There are few of us left." Aragorn said. "The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago."
"I'm sorry. Please, eat." Éowyn urged, and watched as he did so. Turning to (Y/n), she noticed the glowing red nature of the tips of her arrows. "(Y/n), why do your arrows glow in such a way?"
(Y/n) smirked a little, knowing Aragorn would have to continue to eat the stew, and said, "I enchanted them myself. Evil burns at it's touch, yet those with pure hearts are spared from it's pain."
"That is incredible." Éowyn said, and while her back was turned, Aragorn dumped the rest of the stew into the grass where she could not see, and pretended to be taking a final bite. "You truly are as powerful as they say?"
"I am an apprentice under Gandalf. He is teaching me more about my magic than I ever could have learned on my own." (Y/n) responded, twisting one of her arrows in her hand before putting it back into her quiver. "I have a destiny, and yet, I do not know what it is."
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Witch: Aragorn
Fanfiction(Y/n) (L/n) has been on the run her whole life. Where she is from, she is considered a witch. Gondor would not welcome her any longer. She was a nuisance to society. Cast aside, she runs from her troubles into the adventure she never thought she nee...
