I smile as Merry runs eagerly to the smithy to sharpen his blade. He is so eager to rush into battle. He has not thought of consequences. He just wishes to be able to be a part of the action, to not be a burden; a piece of luggage. Who would? I pause by Eomer, and he speaks without looking up.
"You should not encourage him." Encourage him? This greatest battle to happen in the Third Age- possibly ever- was to be Merry's first, and he was excited as a small boy who had been entrusted with a training sword. How would the warriors of Rohan know how it felt to be left behind; waiting and not knowing what the outcome was to be? They do not, would not, likely never will.
"You should not doubt him."
"I do not doubt his heart, only the reach of his arm." Gamling, sitting beside his gave a chuckle. So we were to go on size were we? That valor was not to be rewarded to those other than large men of stature and strength? The hobbit was not to be allowed to ride to battle because of reasons beyond his control.
"Why should Merry be left behind? He has as much cause to go to was as you do. Why can he not fight for those he loves?" Why should I be left behind? Why can I not fight for those I love? I smile wryly. I could hear the answers already, echoing from the past. The excuses from times now behind me. You must lead the people to Helm's Deep...You must do this...Yours is an honorable charge... A time may come for valor without renown. Who then will your people look to in the last defense...
Yes, the last defense. The last ride of the Rohirrim to the gates of Gondor. The words ring true now in my mind. I will sleep now, and in the morning I will ride. I stop suddenly, for in the shadow a shape moves. My heart beats swiftly as I move closer. A shaft of moonlight glimmers down and I hold back a gasp. There, in the dark, Aragorn readies his horse. My breath catches in my throat. He turns and sees me, and confused look crosses his face.
I quickly speak. "Why are you doing this? The war lies to the east. You cannot leave on the eve of the battle. You cannot abandon the men." The men? Eru, what was I thinking? His expression changes to that of almost understanding and most certainly of pity as he replies with one word.
"Eowyn." I might as well continue with the damned charade.
"We need you here."
"Why have you come?" Why have I come? My answer surprises even me.
"Do you not know?" He sighs.
"It is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek." What I seek. What I seek! Indeed, what I seek is no more than honorable death in battle but I will not be granted so much as to bleed upon a field of war! I must wither, trammeled in a cage of expectations and false hopes. I turn away and hold back tears.
It seems that no more than an hour has passed as I stand breathing softly and trying not to think. Yet as I move to return to my tent, I see the sun rising in the red-stained sky. Moving closer to the ridge, I cross my arms over my chest and try not to shiver, though the morning is warm.
My uncle approaches me, saying, "I have left instruction. The people are to follow your rule in my stead. Take up my seat in the Golden Hall. May you long defend Edoras if the battle goes ill."
I gaze at the mist rising from the mountains ahead. "What other duty would you have me do, my Lord?"
Theoden took my hands and arranged them in his. "Duty? I would have you smile again, and not grieve for those whose time has come. You shall see these days renewed, Eowyn. No more despair." Those whose time has come... My time has come. There will be no more despair. The morning shall come, and with it I shall ride, ride to the last defense.