Faramir takes Éowyn to Henneth Annun.
Slowly she spun round, taking in the cavern: once full, now populated with barrels of salted meat, wine, and other provisions, but not by men. They were alone.
As Éowyn turned to face the watery veil she sucked in her breath, the air whistling through her teeth. A song like that from a thousand harps rose from where the waterfall met the pool far below, and the setting sun glistened through the curtain, more brilliant than Meduseld's tapestries.
She felt Faramir's fingers entwine between her own. Reluctantly she turned from the waterfall and looked upon his face. Was that a smile on his solemn lips? 'Twould seem so!
He took a step forward, and she did not move back. He lifted his free hand and caressed her chin for a moment before slowly raising her lips to meet his own.
Aye, what a kiss! How could she have ever loved another, she wondered? But those days were gone.
Seconds that lasted an age passed, and yet the two lingered. Finally he pulled back. "Ithilien welcomes her lady," he said, "as do I.