Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.
Author's Note: Eowyn is about 15 or 16.
Caught in the Storm
The faint sound scattered the descending cloud of approaching sleep. Eowyn's body jerked, her eyes flashed open, and she whipped her head around. She pulled the fur blanket closer around her trembling form. A chilling shiver ran through her body. Her mouth became dry. Sweat formed on her forehead. The terror surrounded and caged her in an instant.
Silence filled the air. Her room was dark, the fire having died out a long time ago. Eowyn's eyes were trained on her locked door; light spilled underneath it from the torch in the hall. Her eyes widen, and she held her breath as she heard the faint rustle of robes trailing on the floor, and the near silent footsteps. The light was nearly completely blocked out by the pair of slippered feet and dark robes which halted before her door. Her heart pounded in her ears.
Eowyn waited, ears straining to pick up any noise or movement. But the shadow simply stayed still – doing what, the girl did not know. This night the knob of her door did not rattle.
Even when the shadow at last moved off almost silently down the corridor, Eowyn dared not move for several long minutes. Slowly, when she at last believed he was truly gone, the horror which was wrapped around her gave way. She hugged herself and burrowed deeper under her coverlets, unable to stop her body's shaking.
She did not understand. Everywhere she went, everywhere she looked, her uncle's chief counselor was in the nearby shadows, watching her with his piercing eyes; his presence followed her unrelentingly. She was frightened and furious by the way he dared look at her sometimes. She felt caught in the middle of a dark game of hide and seek. But there were no places of sanctuary for her, for she was always found. She soon dared not hide, for fear of what would happen when he found her alone. Eowyn shuddered as, un-beckoned, words he had whispered softly in her ears came to her mind.
There was no one she could turn to. Uncle was acting more and more strangely with each passing day. She could no longer speak to him with confidence in private, for his counselor was always by his side, watching, listening, answering for the king. She did not believe she could go to her brother and cousin; they would not understand her fear, for she herself did not know why he followed her – he frightened her, of that she was sure. Her cousin and brother may laugh at her story, for she was uncertain if they noticed something was wrong.
No. She was alone in this storm. And she did not know when it would finally come to an end.
THE END
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