I am Wif of Eastfold, lady-love of Éomer Éadig. Oh, sure, I know he married that Lothíriel girl and moved to Edoras to be King of the Mark and all some time ago, but…he will be back. You’ll see. He loves Aldburg(Don't know what, or where, Aldburg is? Then you shouldn't be writing about my country, thank you very much)—and me—too much to stay away. I hope.

In the meantime, I amuse myself by reading stories of his deeds of honor and valor. His sister is also quite skilled, and uncle, the dead Théoden, used to fight like a cornered Dunlending. Yes, unlike most men and women of the Mark, I can read, and I can write, and I often exercise these traits.

But I love the House of Eorl, and I, too, have trained to be a shieldmaiden; but I have not gained my skill through arms. I fight with my words, cheap that talk may be. Should the House of Eorl be slandered through any writing, I will not be kind. I will be swift; I will be harsh; I will be brutal. I am here to defend my love’s honor, since he can not be here to do it himself. And do not think that your words will have any effect on me; I was bred among men of war. I have to be able to take any insult thrown my way.

Mid Béma,
Wif