So Éomer had buried two more orcs that night. Two or three more remained alive, judging from the traces on the field but there had been no sign of them. Abigail had left him by the fire and gone to rest once she had calmed down from the attack. She was still sleeping he assumed. Éomer treaded around the farm. Searching for traces of the remaing orc's whereabouts but he found none. On the far side of the barn, he found a cage holding rabbits. There were four of them. He opened the cage and grabbed hold of one. With a quick twist he snapped its neck. Abigail had shown such hospitality towards him, he thought he could show his gratitude by having a meal prepared for when she awoke. He returned to the fire and tossed the rabbit on the ground then began to assemble a spit.
As the sun rose he turned the now roasting rabbit over the fire. He had just about concluded that it was ready when the door opened and Abigail stepped out. Her brown curls stood on end and her eyes were swollen from sleep. He did not even try to make sense of what she was wearing. Fuzzy boots that her feet just seem to slip into. Striped breeches and some knitted type of coat that must have been made for someone twice her size. Abigail looked at the meat on the spit and Éomer smiled at her as he removed it and tore off a piece to offer her. She came closer and took the meat from him as she sat down on a rock close by. She turned the piece of meat in her hand, sniffed it to Éomer's slight indignation and then tried some. Her face was unreadable, she chewed and looked at the chunk of meat he had now placed on a rock away from the fire. She pointed to it and said something in her own language. Éomer did not understand what she said. She pointed again and then gestured around the yard with a questioning look on her face. She wanted to know where he had gotten the meat. Éomer pointed to the far side of the barn. After a slight pause she dropped the meat in her hand, rose and trotted across the yard. Éomer set off after her. She had seemed displeased and he was afraid he had overstepped by taking the liberty to cook one of them for a morning meal.
When he caught up she stood staring at the three rabbits in their cage. She looked at him, her eyes darkened and she held up four fingers. Éomer just nodded and gestured towards the fire.
'Yes, I cooked the fourth.' he said in Rohirric. Tears welled up in her eyes, he had upset her, yet he could not understand quite how.
'Éomer,' she said and pointed to him. 'Abigail,' and she pointed to herself. Then she went on to point to each of the three rabbits. 'Sleepy, Sneezy, Dopey...' then she pointed towards the fire. 'Happy.'
She reached into the cage and brought one of the rabbits into her arms. She strokeits ears and kissed its head. Then she pointed at it again and said,
'Dopey.'
It then dawned on Éomer. She had named her rabbits, that is what she was trying to convey, and that was why her eyes were sheathed with tears. He had been mistaken. Those rabbits weren't for eating, they were her friends. He swallowed, thinking how he would feel if someone fed him his own steed. How callous and cruel he must seem. He might not understand why anyone would keep food as friends but nonetheless she had. A chill clawed its way up his backbone. He wondered how much he had angered her and how she would choose to punish him for it. Would she put a hole in his skull?
Abigail wiped her tears and placed Dopey back with the other rabbits.
'Goheno nín. Forgive me.' Éomer said with his hand to his chest. 'Goheno nín.'
Abigail drew a deep breath and smiled at him then put a hand on his arm.
'Gi mellonig. You are my friend.' she said and walked back to the house, never looking at her roasted friend on the ground.
