A/N: I am not JRRTolkien. I do not wish to make any profit from this story.
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Eowyn was distracted as they rode from house to house, and Lothiriel was worried for her friend. It was obvious that her people loved her, the children flocked around her, and they were offered refreshments at every house they went to. Eowyn was attentive to each and all, accepting the gifts for Theoden King graciously, but Lothiriel didn't like the tightness around her friend's eyes, or the way she braced herself before she was touched.
As they left the second household, Lothiriel asked Eowyn to teach her some greetings in Rohirric. Lothiriel felt strangely unlearned as most of the people she had met so far were able to welcome her in Western, whereas she had no Rohirric to respond the courtesy.
Eowyn's eyes brightened, and she started to go through some of the simpler greetings and exchanges. Lothiriel amazed by complexity of the spoken language – there were different greetings for if some one was older, or younger, or related, and there were multiple words for "you," which was confusing at first.
At the third household, Lothiriel was too shy to respond in Rohirric, and for the first time since they'd met she saw Eowyn really smile as she laughed at Lothiriel's reluctance. The difference in Eowyn's appearance was astounding, dazzling even, and Lothiriel saw the true price the war had taken on her friend. As they went to the rest of the households she slowly became more confident in her greetings, laughing with Eowyn at her mistakes and watching the fierce, grave people relax and tease her in exchange.
They headed back to Meduseld, and stopped before Theoden's open barrow. There they handed off the baskets they packed gifts in. Eowyn spoke softly to one of the guards standing by the door of the tomb, her lines of care and worry had returned. They finished speaking, and Eowyn walked slowly back to Lothiriel and the horses.
"Is everything well?" Lothiriel asked as they remounted.
"What?" Eowyn was startled out of her thoughts, and Lothiriel repeated her question. "Everything is… well everything is better than it has been. Tomorrow will be a long day."
"Will it be hard to bury your uncle?" Lothiriel asked gently.
"It was harder to bury Theodred," Eowyn murmured, and turned to look to the East, in the general direction Theorded's mound lay. "They both died good deaths in defense of what they loved, which we value and honor." She hesitated and then said even softer, "But then again, dead is dead, and we could use them now."
"I wish I could help you in some way," Lothiriel leaned over to gently touch Eowyn's shoulder.
"Thank you," Eowyn replied, her voice brittle. Lothiriel removed her hand and as they dismounted she tactfully started a different conversation.
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A/N: Thank you for reading!