Chapter 36

Edoras

The days that followed Éomer's departure brought strong feelings of discomfort and uncertainty within her. Ithílwyn slept lightly, waking up several times throughout the night from anxiety and worry. For the first time, she was aware of the possibility that she would never see Éomer again. The village was quiet, and no one smiled when meeting. More Riders were stationed by the border and Ithílwyn noticed that there was always more arriving to replace the diminishing numbers. She saw corpses returning and though she knew not who had perished, she wept for the lost lives and the death that was to come. Their doom approached swiftly, and denial was purposeless.

Not two weeks later however, Éomer's prediction came true. A messenger arrived at Théodayre's home and spoke with her while Ithílwyn waited for news by the fire, gripping her shaking hands in an effort to compose her frayed nerves. The king's sister remained expressionless as she closed the door behind her and held her chin high.

"Pack your things immediately, we are to eave for Edoras."

As she journeyed to the back of the house, she peered through the window and spied the messenger from Aldburg announce the evacuation. She could not hear his words, nor could she hear what the villagers said in response; but the anguished expressions and the tears she saw flowing conveyed enough distress for Ithílwyn to swallow the lump in her throat. The villagers were corralled and then instructed to pack their things in an hour. By noon, Ithílwyn watched as the shadows dissolved into the horizon. Not long after, she heard Théodayre calling her name. Clutching her satchel of meagre belongings tightly to her middle, she ventured forth and stood by the king's sister.

"We have been instructed to escort you and this young woman to Edoras," one of them addressed politely, "but there are others who are travelling on the same route and we must travel light, my lady." While the Rider and the princess fussed over her vast belongings, Ithílwyn turned to his partner and asked, "I have a mare in the stables and I cannot bear to leave her behind." The Rider sighed and then nodded.

"Do not worry about your mare, I will ensure that she is safe and brought to Edoras."

Freckles was lured out with the promise of an apple. The Rider snatched the mare's reins from Ithílwyn's hands before she could react. She stared up at him, puzzled.

"Pardon me, but you must ride in the cart along with the princess." Ithílwyn inhaled, ready to protest at abandoning Freckles to this stranger. "Rest assured, milady, she will not be harmed under my care." Though she had little proof to believe his words, there was no time to spare. People rushed from to and fro, packing food and belongings haphazardly. Children wailed at the chaos unfurling as their parents circled around them, far too occupied preparing for their journey to soothe their distressed children. Behind her the princess squabbled over the few belongings she was allowed to take with her. The exasperated soldier sighed and politely explained the need to travel light once more.

"We should go if we want to meet Lord Éomer by sundown," said one to the other. Ithílwyn's heart sank. The women were huddled to where the wagon waited, and sat uncomfortably amongst elderly women, mothers with young babies in hand and pregnant women. The princess was displeased at her company in the shabby cart, and displayed her practised expression of disgust. The wagon began to move, surprising the passengers. No one smiled, and Ithílwyn could see no kindness in the eyes of the people. Only fear and anger. The villagers set off, at a hurried pace. The outline of the houses grew smaller as they journeyed ever on. Most of them knew not their destination, but there was no point in knowing. Ithílwyn tightened the shawl around her shoulders and endured the rumbling of the cart, which made her drowsy before long.

Someone pushed her shoulder roughly and woke her. She blinked, confused as to why she was outside.

"You need to get off now," one of the women instructed.

"Oh," she said, not fully awake. Then carefully she alighted the cart. She stood alone as the women disappeared. Her host was nowhere to be found, and she was painfully hungry. The smell of food emboldened her. Ithílwyn plodded forward, ignoring the pain at her side in search of dinner. The campsite was noisy, Riders giving instructions, babies and young children crying, women complaining, horses neighing.

"Ithílwyn!" At her name she turned to see a familiar face. She nearly cried at the unexpected presence of a friend.

"Rhonwen! Oh it is wonderful to see you!"

"The feeling is mutual, dear Ithílwyn. Where have you been, I have not seen you for months on end. Aldric and I have been terribly worried."

"You should not have, I was assisting the king's older sister. She had bad joints you see."

"Well, you should have informed us of your departure, I missed your presence in Aldburg."

"I apologise, Rhonwen. The situation was unexpected, to say the least."

"Never mind, I can see that you are uncomfortable. Did you just arrive?" Ithílwyn nodded weakly. "You poor thing. I am heading to get some stew. Would you like to come with me?"

"Yes, please." The two women made their way to the middle of the campsite, where Rhonwen charged ahead while Ithílwyn avoided people as best as she could. They received their portion and Rhonwen suggested that they move to her sleeping quarters. "There are many benefits of marrying a captain of the Mark," she comments and winks.

"It is much warmer in here, and the stink of horse will not deter me from eating my dinner," Rhonwen huffed as she sat down on the fur. Ithílwyn sat down with much difficulty and spotted her friend staring at her. Rhonwen crawled forward and placed her hand on Ithílwyn's stomach. She gasped and Ithílwyn blinked. Her friend seemed speechless and made small noises in disbelief.

"Ithílwyn, why are you with child?"

"Shh, you must not tell anyone. Not even Aldric. Rhonwen, please, you cannot disclose of this, please."

"Who, who is it?"

"I cannot tell you. Forgive me, he is entirely unsuitable and he cannot marry me. He would be shamed if anyone knew. Please, Rhonwen, please do not cause me to speak of the past, I cannot bear it."

"How could he abandon you in this time? I must tell Aldric, he will sort that horrible, indecent man for you."

"No! Rhonwen, please. He has a family to consider, and I am to blame for this," she paused and sighed, "unfortunate predicament. You must not tell anyone, especially Aldric. He would be furious with me if he knew. War is upon us, he would be better not to worry about me. "

"But who will care for you? People will talk about you," Rhonwen whispered.

"I have accepted that fate, my friend. Do not trouble yourself with my worries. Life is good to you, and you must be grateful."

Rhonwen cast a sympathetic look at her and sighed quietly. "Let us eat and talk about other matters," Ithílwyn suggested, placing bread in her friend's grasp.

"You must have suffered."

"There are others who have lived through worse. I will be fine, and I do not want you to concern yourself with my troubles. But please, and I want you to swear on your life that you will not tell a soul, dead or alive that I am with child."

"But I want to help you," she insisted.

"You cannot, no one can. Please swear it, that is the only way you can help."

Rhonwen hesitated, but at her friend's desperate plea, she nodded and vowed to conceal this secret.

"People will know before long," she commented.

"There are not many people who know me, or concern themselves with me. It will be over before you know." Rhonwen stared at her friend, unsure if she was merely attempting to console herself.

Aldric entered his tent and stared at Ithílwyn. He exclaimed her name, surprised to see her. His wife smiled and watched as he began to chastise Ithílwyn for disappearing without notice.

"Have you been well? The king's sister did not seem like a pleasant woman when I met her last." Ithílwyn flashed a secret smile and answered, "One gets used to her personality."

"Ithílwyn, we missed you. Do not leave without informing us again, we live in dangerous times and I do not wish for your life to be at risk."

"I know, you are a good friend. Your wife has already berated me for doing so."

Aldric smiles at Rhonwen, who seemed to be staring at Ithílwyn the entire time. "You look haggard," he commented.

"Yes, the cart ride was strenuous," Ithílwyn replied and smiled humorously.

"Aldric, you should never comment on a woman's looks so carelessly," his wife chides.

"Forgive me, my good woman. After marrying my beautiful wife, every other woman seems to pale in comparison." He places an affectionate kiss on his wife's cheek and rests his hand on her middle. Ithílwyn looked away and stared down; glad she had the swiftness of wit to hide her stomach under a thick quilt.

"Do you know where you will be sleeping tonight?" Aldric asks.

"No, I have not yet thought about sleep."

"I can ask around for you. You seem different Ithílwyn, you have changed. Has anything happened?" Ithílwyn found herself being observed in great detail and discovered her dry mouth was incapable of uttering a single word in response.

"Of course she is fine, you worry too much. She will sleep with me here."

"Rhonwen, there is only room for two people in this tent."

"You can sleep with the Marshal, he is, as you say, like a brother to you." Rhonwen smiled smugly at her husband, who was now in a state of disbelief.

"But, this is my-"

"We have a guest, Aldric. And Ithílwyn is exhausted, it is only a night until we get her lodgings sorted."

Aldric chuckles, amused at the predicament his wife had orchestrated. "Fine, it is just for tonight. I will go now and beg the Third Marshal for a place to sleep tonight. Goodnight ladies."

When Aldric was gone, Ithílwyn exhaled in relief and apologised. Rhonwen waved her apology away with a wave of her hand.

"You did not have to do that."

"I know, but as I have said before, I want to help you. Besides, he bothers me with his constant questioning. I need my peace," she explained and winked.

Éomer was surprised to find Aldric's head poking through the tent flap. He, who had earlier grumbled about being joined to the Marshal's side since the break of dawn, was now entering the tent. Éomer raised his right eyebrow, both curious and amused.

"I was glad to be gone from you, but my wife has outwitted me in favour of an unexpected guest."

"I see," Éomer replied, staring back at his map.

"Do you not wish to know the identity of this guest who so compelled my wife to rid me from my own bed?"

"I hope for your sake that it is not another man." Aldric sighed with exasperation.

"It is Ithílwyn. If you remember her at all."

Éomer stayed still, his eyes fixed on the map. His hands stiffened at the mention of her name, but he was also relieved to know that she had arrived.

"I do remember her, Aldric. How is she faring?" he asked, in an attempt to sound cordial. In truth, he was deeply curious. He had not seen her for so long, and last he saw her, she was underfed and internally miserable.

"I do not know," Aldric replied. Éomer stared up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"She seems different Éomer. Something has changed her, and I cannot tell what it is." Noting his friend's grave expression, he put the map away and held his face in his hands.

"Did you know of Ithílwyn's whereabouts in the past weeks?" Aldric questioned, a suspicious expression upon his face.

"Yes, Ainsware mentioned it," he replied casually, ignoring Aldric's intense gaze. His friend from youth exhaled and stroked his beard.

"I am confused, Éomer." Assuming a scholar's pose, Aldric seemed deep in thought. "It seems odd that Ithílwyn would leave Aldburg without you giving permission. "

"She received it," he replied calmly, worried that this sudden interrogation originating with Ithílwyn's sudden appearance would reveal much of the dealings that had taken place behind Aldric's back. In an effort to appear nonchalant, he popped several berries into his mouth and started chewing.

"Considering all the years we have known each other as friends, I implore you to be completely and wholly honest with me. I want to know the exact nature of your current relationship with Ithílwyn. Why would she be sent away, as if she was a disgraced woman?"

Anger stirred within him at Aldric's question. "She was not dismissed shamefully, Aldric. She was sent to assist the king's sister in need of a younger companion. This decision was made by Ithílwyn herself, and it would be wise of you to refrain from making insinuating remarks with little knowledge," he ground out carefully, wary of restraining his temper. "What ties Ithílwyn have with me no longer exist."

"And why would that be so?"

"She had a change of mind about ... me."

"You believe her?" Aldric questioned.

"Yes, she has no reason to lie. She discovered that I am less of a man than she deserves and she was right to leave."

Perhaps Aldric saw his concealed sorrow, though he had strained to reveal no emotion, and spoke no more of the matter. Or it may be that he had discovered all he needed to know, and refused to agitate his friend any longer. Either way, Aldric fell asleep soon after and left him to his brooding thoughts. The burden of Ithílwyn's welfare lay heavily on his mind. His fingers tapped restlessly on his desk. He was filled with a deep longing to see her, to observe any changes since they last met. She was lonely, he knew, for he was lonely too. And he was weary of being alone, more exhausted was he to witness Ithílwyn suffer by herself. To watch her wilt under the grievances he caused her because of his impulses, because he had been foolish. Even if he were to sneak out of his tent, it was impossible to pass by the guards and enter Aldric's tent without arousing any suspicion. He thought of the people who had abandoned their homes, belongings, property because of his command. This decision to evacuate the people across the Entwash was one he had long considered, yet what if he was wrong? Why did he accept this post of Third Marshal in the beginning? Ithílwyn was right, he should have been a herder of sheep, then he would have been much happier than if he was Third Marshal.

The next day brought great change. For there were two destinations set for the people gathered; one was Edoras, the other was the fortress beyond the Entwash. The journey to the fortress requires strength and some endurance. The Riders set about separating the individuals headed to Edoras and those braving the harsh road to the eastern fortress. Aldric had relayed Rhonwen's desire to have Ithílwyn as a companion on the journey to Edoras. He had granted it willingly, for he had thought of reasons as to why Ithílwyn could be transported to Edoras without disclosing that she was with child and found none of them reasonable. Aldric had confided his worries that Rhonwen might be disdained by the wives of the officials for being born outside of nobility. It was well known to him, the petty and selfish behaviour the women in court adopted. The worst lived in Meduseld, and if Rhonwen was going to live there, even if only temporarily, she would need a friend.

Éomer watched the chaos surrounding him with weary eyes. He was heading to Meduseld, with a report that would bring him disgrace. He was the Third Marshal, he was supposed to protect the Eastmark, but he had failed at his duty. A memory came to him, of Ithílwyn braiding his hair and asking an innocent question which he had laughed at. She had asked whether he had considered another choice in life, one that did not involve holding an important military position. Her question seemed so silly at the time. Now the weight of the people bore down on him and he was on the verge of breaking. He had raised more burial mounds than he would have liked in a lifetime. There was no glory in battle and hollow victories settle bitterly in one's mind. He watched as families separated, wives torn from their husbands, mothers from their children. Turning his head aside, he gave the signal to move out.

The Marshal's fear of an Orc ambush set the frantic pace for the journey, which was an inconvenience indeed for the pregnant women. Periods of rest were scarce, and many expectant women emptied their bladders in the cart. Ithílwyn was exhausted; the arduous travelling and having to hear the constant whining and complaining was sapping what little strength she had. There was no sleep, for the cart bumped and rattled unceasingly. Many longed for journey's end, for rest and absence of dried meat and hard bread. Ithílwyn, who was afraid at the thought of leaving the Eastmark, anticipated the idea of sleep and a clean bed. Rhonwen noticed Ithílwyn's ashen expression but the other women in the cart seemed not to notice, or when they did pretended not to care. If only Aldric was with them and not escorting the people to the fortress. Now she had no one to seek for help. The Marshal intimidated her, and he was far ahead of the travelling horde to pay any mind to the women. She missed her husband, for surely he would be outraged at the conditions the women were suffering. Aldric was far away now, and she was all alone. Her heart sank as she pressed Ithílwyn's thin body to hers, hoping for warmth.

Éowyn grew increasingly flustered as she spied the number of women and children entering through the gates. There are so many of them, and they appeared dirty and harrowed after what she deduced to be an exhausting journey. A nearby maidservant scuttled over to inform insufficient bedding was prepared. The White Lady of Rohan drew herself to her full height and silenced the maidservant with a gaze declaring that the stated fact had already been made obvious. She gave orders for food and drink to be served in the hall and for baths to be drawn while cursing her brother internally. How was she to arrange everyone's lodgings if there isn't enough room? When she reached the stable, Éomer dismounted and greeted her with a tight smile.

"Éomer! You are safe!" she cried, looking over her brother for any sustained injuries.

"I am well, Éowyn, we had an uneventful journey." He turned to look around, inspecting that all was well. "I believe I have lost none of my men, unless they have deserted me for the likes of Orcs."

"You remain as cheerful as always, dear brother," she commented sarcastically.

"As ever are you," he replied and nudged her. Éomer leaned in to kiss her on her forehead and was slightly astonished to find her glaring at him.

"What wrong have I committed?"

"You failed to inform me that there were so many travelling here. There is limited space in Meduseld!"

"Oh," he responded, seemingly perplexed. One of his captains came to his side and muttered something to him. "Forgive me, Éowyn, but I have another matter to attend to. Do as best as you can manage, I have uttermost faith in you." Éomer left immediately with the captain and she sighed, her arms crossed against her chest.

Ithílwyn sat beside Rhonwen and chewed her bread silently. There was insufficient bedding for the women and children, and she and one other woman still did not know where they were to sleep tonight.

"Your soup is getting cold," Rhonwen reminded kindly, nudging her playfully. Ithílwyn smiled weakly and finished her soup and bread, still worried. "Lady Éowyn will sort this out, you do not need to concern yourself with these silly affairs. You will be fine, you know the Marshal, and I doubt he will allow his sister to place you with the horses."

"Thank you Rhonwen," she replied and sighed

"I am still hungry," Rhonwen remarked not long after in a display of dissatisfaction, clasping her belly with one hand.

"I do not think they are serving second portions," Ithílwyn commented mournfully.

Her friend pursed her lips indignantly. "I am going to ask for more food," she declared determinedly. However as she was about to stand up, Lady Éowyn entered the hall and the women quietened at her entrance. Ithílwyn was of the opinion that the king's niece did not appear very friendly, nor did she give a warmth presence. She was beautiful, and the title bequeathed to her befitted her pale and fair appearance. Yet, she seemed to resemble little of her brother, and perhaps she was weary and her mind being out of sorts, but she found that detail amusing. Lady Éowyn turned her head and stared straight at her. Almost immediately, she turned aside, averting her gaze.

"You will be pleased to know that your sleeping arrangements have been successfully sorted. You may now proceed to the solar, where the bedding has been laid out. Please leave your bowls and cutlery on the tables, the maidservants will clear the mess." The women began muttering quietly as they stood and shuffled towards the door. Ithílwyn followed Rhonwen out the door, but felt a stable grip around her elbow as she was pulled back.

"Leave us, I will show this young woman to her room," Lady Éowyn said without a smile and inspected Ithílwyn with a stern expression. "Come with me," she instructed, in a cold, authoritative voice.

"We managed to find bedding for the other woman, but none for you. I have arranged for you to share my bed until room is made available or until you leave Meduseld. I hope you are not displeased with my decision." Ithílwyn shook her head timidly, feeling intimidated by the women a head taller than her. They walked for a while, turning corridors and passing by dark rooms. As if to inspect that they were indeed alone, Éowyn turned her head left and then right before leaning closer.

"Did you think that I knew not about you? Else you would have been sleeping with the servants. You need not fear me, Éomer has ensured that I watch over you and bring you no harm. However, you must know that I am not pleased with my brother's past conduct when concerned with you, nor of his choice of," here she paused as they turned a corner, humming softly as she tried to think of a more appropriate word, "companionship. Your features tell me that you are not one I can trust." Ithílwyn swallowed, she certainly did not expect Lady Éowyn to be blunt and startlingly honest. This cold remark about her left her speechless, and she made no reply or comment to what had been said. The two women came to a more secluded area in Meduseld, and judging by the rich tapestries decorating the walls, she guessed that she must be amidst the chambers for the king and his family. Ithílwyn felt more terrified than honoured at this privilege. Her side began to hurt after attempting to keep up with Lady Éowyn's long, brisk strides.

"Please hurry," remarked the king's niece, an impatient expression upon her face. Ithílwyn nodded immediately as Éowyn turned the key and pushed open the door. Ithílwyn managed to enter before the door was slammed shut and locked. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and gripped tightly on to the edge of a chest of drawers to steady herself.

"There are some spare dresses for you, and your belongings have been placed in the bottom drawer of that shelf over there. The basin is here, if you should wish to wash your face. That pitcher there is filled with water, in case you get thirsty. Is there anything you would like to-" Éowyn's question was interrupted by a series of knocks on what Ithílwyn presumed was a connecting door. She blinked as she felt her head swaying. Through her droopy eyelids, she spied Éomer appearing through the connecting door and kissing his sister's cheek. He muttered something she could not hear and she felt her tired knees tremble as he strode quickly to her. Sensing her exhaustion, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the connecting door. Ithílwyn waved her hand and strove to express her gratitude towards Lady Éowyn for graciously hosting her but her tongue felt thick in her mouth and eventually she managed to mumble something unintelligible before Éomer whisked her into his room.

She was laid tenderly on his bed, and Ithílwyn was relieved that the women were given baths and a change of clothing before their meal. Éomer's face appeared in her field of vision, the lines of his face drawn in a concerned expression.

"You look pale," he commented, crossing the room to fetch her some water. She endeavoured to sit upright, but the sides of her head began to pound. Her discomfort did not go unnoticed and as he placed the cup in her hands, he asked if she was experiencing pain.

Ithílwyn smiled and shook her head with the slightest of motions so as not to aggravate the pounding sensation. She managed to drink two sips before handing the cup to Éomer.

"Perhaps you are just weary. I had the fire stoked earlier, is it warm enough?" he asked her, watching her eyelids shut as she sunk into the pillows. Éomer exhaled audibly and removed the pillows behind her back as he placed her in a sleeping position on her side. Ensuring that she was well covered by the sheets, he then grasped her toes to monitor her temperature. What was the woman thinking, wearing a thin shawl during the damp spring nights? Éomer rummaged for a pair of socks and put them on her pale feet, stretching them to the middle of her calves. She appeared tiny in his large expanse of a bed. Before sliding into bed, he ensured the windows were shut and blew out the candle. Curling up beside her, he sighed and murmured an apology. He kissed her neck and cheek, and settled comfortably in his bed.

Éomer woke late in the day, peering through half-lidded eyes at the petite figure lying beside him. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sat up in bed and noted that she was sleeping very soundly, which was unusual for Ithílwyn, who did not find it difficult to wake when he alighted from bed in the past. In the clear daylight, he observed her features for the first time since he had left her on that rainy afternoon at the door of his aunt's home. Her gaunt features seemed to curse at him, at his failure to care for her. The dark shadows under her eyes bore testimony of restless nights and protruding knobs at her spine declared the insufficient amount of food she had eaten. Her hands felt rough and the shine in her glossy hair was no longer present. He took a deep breath and contemplated whether to wake her so he can put food in her belly or grant her the rest she definitely needed. Deep in thought, he barely noticed Éowyn calling his name from the other side of the door. When at last he did, he crept gingerly out of bed. His sister's face appeared through the door and she seemed displeased. She stormed into the room as he put on his boots.

"Do not wake her," he cautioned, watching Éowyn roll her eyes and place her hands on her hips. It was his least favourite pose out of the many she possessed.

"You have greater concerns than her, Éomer. What possessed you to linger in bed till well after sunrise? Théoden King has ordered that you present yourself in court, and he grows impatient." Éomer cursed and let out a heavy sigh.

"I trust that a certain worm has a role in this summoning as well?" he asked, massaging his temples.

His sister nodded once and threw a shirt at him. "You must go at once, I fear for what may happen if you anger him."

"It makes no difference, dear sister. His hatred for me is constant," he replied under his breath as he put on the shirt. Éomer turned to Ithílwyn, who lay innocently asleep and then turned to his sister.

"No," she refused, knowing what he was suggesting without the use of words. The pleading expression he wore was commonly used to gain favours from her.

"Please, Éowyn. She is ill."

"Do not appeal to my sympathy Éomer. She is your responsibility!" Her brother hushed her, annoyed that she had spoken loudly. The strange woman stirred under the sheets and she cast an exasperated look at him.

"Did you not notice that she is with child?"

Éomer rarely saw his sister startled, and yet she stood and stared at him unbelievingly. "She claims the child belongs to you?" she hissed. He was affronted that his sister would make such an accusation towards Ithílwyn.

"I know that the child is mine, sister," he ground out, emphasising each word. He went over to the basin and washed his face and neck, wiping himself thoroughly with a towel afterwards.

"And why should you trust her word?"

"Because she has proven her integrity to me on many occasions, and also, I trust her."

"You are being stupid," came Éowyn's blunt remark.

"Éowyn, I do not have time to argue with you. No matter the affiliations she has with me, she nevertheless remains a pregnant woman who needs medical attention. If in your heart you cannot find pity for her, then at least consider the child she bears. I beg of you, Éowyn, please." His sister shuts her eyes in response, one corner of her mouth twitching in irritation. Éomer knew then that he had made a convincing appeal and that she would not refuse his demand.

"Thank you, I am in your debt, dear sister. Please look after her while I am away and I will endeavour to return as quickly as the proceedings in court allow." Éowyn huffed at another responsibility as her brother kissed her cheek and left the room. With a muffled groan, she sat down on her brother's bed, glancing at the sleeping woman with disdain. Although she despised her brother's cheap manipulation of her sympathy, she had to admit that the woman had the pallor of an invalid. Deciding to cast her suspicions aside, she reached out to touch the woman's forehead and finding it exceedingly warm. The woman was feverish and her haggard appearance informed Éowyn of lack of rest and poor nourishment. While she pitied this woman, she was now furious with her brother for neglecting this woman whom he claimed was bearing his child, and for pushing this sick woman into her care. If Théodred knew of this, he would be absolutely livid at Éomer's misconduct. She sighed and shook her head silently.

Ithílwyn woke and immediately felt miserable and uncomfortable. Her head pounded relentlessly and her stomach was wracked with hunger pangs. Added to her distress was the stiff feeling in her joints and the ache in her lower back. Her arms and legs seemed like weights and the only movement she could manage was to turn her head feebly and look around the empty room in desperation. Where was Éomer? Why had he left her alone in his room? Ithílwyn was about to cry from the state of utter helplessness she was in when Éowyn appeared through the door with a tray of food and a stack of towels. Tears of relief and joy rolled down Ithílwyn's face at the sight of another person.

"You have waken, I see," Éowyn commented, setting the tray aside. Ithílwyn's dry mouth could only croak in response and she shut her mouth after deciding that she sounded more like an animal than a woman. "Your fever seems to have cooled a little, though I suggest that you eat some food. " Ithílwyn watched her pour water into a cup. "You have been asleep for two days now, and your body is very weak." She handed the cup to Ithílwyn and leaned in as she whispered, "Éomer will be relieved to know that you have wakened." Her tone made Ithílwyn unsure of whether Lady Éowyn was pleased about the fact or if she was simply not amused. "He has yet to inform me of the exact nature of his relationship with you. But there, you are too weak to tell me either. My brother refuses to inform me of any interesting developments in his life and now that you have appeared, you must understand that I am suspicious of you and your intentions." Éowyn helped Ithílwyn sit on the bed, propping her back with a few pillows. She was fed spoons of porridge and water alternately while listening to Lady Éowyn speak. "You are his burden to bear, and yet is I who must care after you as if you were a feeble child," she muttered under her breath with clear dissatisfaction. "I am speaking offensively again. I do not think I can ever accustom myself to your presence, so you must forgive me for being blatant about my lack of affection for any strange woman my brother entrusts into my care." With those words, Lady Éowyn ended the one-sided conversation and finished feeding the sickly Ithílwyn, who was relieved to be left alone to sleep after the uncomfortable second encounter.

So sorry you guys...life's been, well life. Also, discipline is not in my vocabulary which was why I procrastinated for three months. Sorry again!