Each day, the same frizzy-haired maid woke me up with a knock at the door. Eowyn must have known her name, but I had no clue what it was, and was too shy to ask her… so I avoided addressing her in a way that would make it weird if her name wasn't included.
Breakfast was usually the couch barf porridge, but it actually wasn't as bad as it looked. It tasted a bit like honey and oatmeal, which I discovered when Eomer 'accidently' threw a bowl of it in my face on the second morning of my arrival in Middle-earth.
Near the third day, a pack of leather-and-fishnet-stocking-clad women wearing too much makeup surrounded me, demanding to know why I wasn't hanging out with them anymore.
"Er… I, uhh, have been busy lately, with uh, stuff."
They cackled like a brigade of hens.
"By that, you mean, you're trying to get the king's son as your customer even though he's related to you?" One of them giggled, cocking her head. The rest nodded their heads, overly-hairsprayed locks bobbing stiffly.
"What? No! No! NO!" I shuddered.
"Sweetheart, we don't care! He's probably a very high-paying customer."
"There's no need to deny it, Eowyn," another added. Several others murmured in agreement.
Maybe they will go away if I just agree with them, I thought tiredly. "Yes. You're all one hundred percent right."
They twittered happily, false eyelashes fluttering.
"Don't let us distract you! Go get him," the first one giggled. "Good luck!"
"Thanks," I sighed, trying to keep myself at a leisurely walk as I escaped them.
"Toodles!" They called after me. "See you later!"
That was pretty weird. Really, really weird. And creepy. And wrong. Did Eowyn really hand out with those women before I fell into Middle Earth?
At present, there was really nothing going on in Rohan, besides the corruption of Theoden, but there was nothing I could do about that.
Eomer was napping on a couch, snoring like a wild boar. I poked him, causing him to start awake and fall into an ungraceful heap to the floor.
"What? Huh?" His eyes popped open wide.
"I'm booorrrreeeeeeed," I whined.
"Go be booorrreeeed somewhere else," he grunted, closing his eyes without bothering to move.
"Let's go do something," I pestered, nudging him with my toe.
"Like what?"
"I don't know… Why don't we go swordfight?" I suggested. I had wanted to learn how since I had arrived in Rohan, since I would need to know how for the battle of Pelenor fields.
"You already know how to swordfight. Go away."
It was funny how many times I had heard something similar from Hannah back home (Even though I was older than her, I was always trying to get her to do something or other, and it drove her crazy). "Pleeeeeeeeease?"
"Noooooo!" He growled.
"I'll just keep bugging you until you say yes!"
"Arrrrgggggg! You're so obnoxious! Fine."
Squealing, I hauled him to his feet. Victory!
After we acquired our swords, Eomer lead me out to a worn, grassy ring, and twirled his blade around.
I tried to mimic him, nearly ending up skewering my feet. My brother raised one eyebrow.
"You're out of practice, I see."
"Shut up and tell me what to do, you idiot!" I grumbled, prying the point out of the earth.
Laughing, he did as he was told. Most of it sounded like gibberish to me, but when I actually attempted the technique, my body seemed to know what to do. After only a few hours, I had most of the moves down.
… or at least, I thought I did.
"Great job, Eowyn. When did you start fighting, yesterday?"
I pouted. "I thought I did pretty well!"
"Oh, come on! I could fight better than that when I was six! I always did say that boys fight better than girls…"
I knew Eowyn would have slapped him silly for saying that, but I was too exhausted to put my lightning-fast and bitingly sharp wits into action. "Your face."
"Seriously, you weren't even this bad when you were a toddler! Remember that time you got your hands on a knife from the kitchen, and when the maid tried to take you to bed, you-"
"Alright! Geez!"
"I don't think you fully realize how awful-"
"I get it! Let it go!" I swung my sword up towards his neck; I wasn't actually going to hurt him, but he was being a jerk.
The flat of my blade caught him on his ribs… quite a bit lower than what I was aiming for, but it made him stagger sideways in shock.
He gave me a long look, then burst out into low chuckles. "Now that's more like it!"
I laughed too, because maybe I wasn't a complete failure at fighting after all!
