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(Another Tolkien-use disclaimer)

Chapter 15 - Traveling

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I awake suddenly, my head is pounding. The air is quiet. The birds twitter softly. A somber day lies ahead of me. I don my ebony riding dress. I had it made for this day alone. The servants abide my orders, leaving me to dress my own hair. I plait three small sections of hair on both sides of my head. Another two plaits lay on top, in the center of my scalp, running from the front all the way down my back. I twist the two right plaits together, and the two left, braiding the rest of my hair into them. Next I twist the two large sections into each other, forming a knot at the base of my neck. A shieldmaiden's hairstyle from long ago in our history. No other Rohirrim women will attend today. I alone bear my foremothers' traditions to this foreign city. I alone represent my nation's daughters. I will not fail them this day.

My uncle, the last of his line, comes down from the tombs in Rath Dinen on a golden bier. The three kings pass through the City in silence. Those to depart follow the procession through the still-broken gates. The bier is placed upon a great wain. Meriadoc, Esquire of Rohan, accompanies his fallen lord, weeping. The king's banner ripples in the breeze.

An entire host of Men and Elves rides alongside the wain. Never had any king of the Mark such company upon the road as went with Theoden Thengel's son to the land of his home. Our home. My eyes leave my uncle's body for one last look upon the White City. I turn my horse and follow the slow procession to the Great West Road.

After a few days on the road, tensions loosen. Laughter becomes a common occurrence, especially around the Hobbits. Lothiriel had never encountered a halfling, indeed nor had many of the riders there, but she became enamored with their happy ways and gentle hearts. I think she is quite similar to them in spirit. Except perhaps the Ringbearer. He is more subdued that the rest. Often while Loth laughs with the three, he and I sit elsewhere discussing what is to come. Frodo is his name and he dearly loves to learn. I tell him of the history of the Mark and the great stories of my ancestors. I think it distracts him from his pain and loneliness.

Sometimes Faramir joins us. I am so happy to hear his stories. He carries so much knowledge, much more than I could hope to retain. I do not grieve my education, but simply enjoy sharing in his. With him I feel safe, warm, joyful. Completely opposite from how I felt in the presence of the Worm.

Faramir is so generous with his time and talent that I find myself wanting to assist the strangers journeying with us. Every morning I rise early, bringing the night watchmen a hearty meal. Today, the watchmen are King Elessar and the stout hobbit. Sam's eyes droop, his head nodding slightly. When Aragorn hears my footsteps, he stands up. I think I see a touch of apprehension behind his dark beard. He has not shaved since the journey began. I think it is his way of relating to my people. The little hobbit stirs, but falls back asleep almost instantly.

'Good morn, your majesty.' I curtsy while I hold the tray of food.

'I hope you slept well, my lady.' He inclines his head.

'I think better than you,' I look down on Sam, 'though perhaps not as well as our little master here.'

Aragorn smiles, looking more relaxed.

'Sam here is as brave as a great many of our soldiers, but hobbits are not meant for little sleep. Nor little food, so I thank you for your trouble.'

'No trouble, I want to help.'

He takes a pause before answering. 'I understand.'

'Well, do you want to see what I have brought?'

I set bread, cheese, and the sausage I had cooked that morning on the small table near the campfire. Aragorn sits on the cushion next to me, not looking at the food.

'I am afraid I am not the cook your elf queen is, your majesty.'

'Everything smells wonderful, Eowyn.'

'Is there something else you require?'

'I wish to speak with you.'

'That is well, for I am here. And I think no one else wakens at this hour.'

'Yes. Then my question is thus: do you love the Prince of Ithilien?'

This I did not expect! What would make him ask such a thing?

'I plan to marry him, do I not?'

'And yet my question remains.'

I huff in indignation.

'Yes, Aragorn, I love him!'

He looks deep into my eyes. I glare back at the king, daring him to disagree.

The skin around his eyes crinkles.

'Indeed, my lady, you do! I see a fierce love in your heart that will not leave you lightly.'

'What gives you the right to pry anyways?' I still feel a bit grumpy.

'I did not intend to put my nose in an unwelcome arena, but I needed to be absolutely sure that you…'

'That I was not still pining for you?' My voice had risen. I can feel my heart thumping in anger at his arrogance.

'I only mean that you do not need to rush into marriage if you do not wish to.'

'Do you still see me so broken? Still pity me as the girl I once was?'

'I...I have not had much opportunity to speak with you, my lady.' His voice softens with each sentence as if to slow my temper.

'Then let me ease your conscience. I know that I had spiraled into melancholy during those dark days. Even after your great victory, I remained unhealed. Yet in the months since, I have been reborn into the light. I have been pulled tooth and nail from my own self pity and childish hurt. And it was not the healer-king who saved me from myself, but his steward. He saw me in anguish, yes, but he offered me peace and stability rather than pity and rejection. You may be of older, higher blood, but that man is of better.'

I look out over the hills, my chest heaving with emotion. The sun begins to peak out from behind us. At last, Aragorn speaks.

'You are mistaken.'

I whip my head around so fast that my hair flies across my back to my shoulder.

'Enlighten me.'

'Blood is not why I spurned you that day. Nor pity.'

'Enlighten more.'

The corners of his mouth twitched, but he continued to look straight at me.

'Eowyn, if I had not rejected your advances, would you have let me go?'

'I did not let you go even then.'

'Perhaps not in your mind, but deep down you knew I was not the one you wanted.'

'You mean to say that you knew I would find Faramir to be a better match?' I can barely keep from rolling my eyes.

'Not Faramir. I confess I never would have put you two together. I knew not what would become of your life, Eowyn. I only knew that I could not be part of it, for your sake and mine.'

'You are happier with your queen.'

'Yes. And even if I had no other woman by my side, still I would not have you.'

'You know just how to make a girl fall in love.' Sarcasm? Now?

'Eowyn, could you really see yourself as Queen of Gondor? Living in a stone palace, surrounded by politics and gossip? You would melt away, a shadow of the woman you once were.'

'And the ladies of court would ask what happened to the sparks of joy and laughter that used to fill the halls in my presence.' I do not know where the vision comes from, but all of a sudden I feel his words to be true.

'You need life, heart, simplicity. You need somewhere to grow things and to heal others. You deserve a man who loves you.'

Again, the king fulfills his duty. He shows me the truth I did not wish to see, healing my heart of many hurts.

'This I have! And he gives me joy.'

Aragorn takes my hand in both of his.

'It heals my heart to see you now in bliss.'

A funny little accent speaks into the dawn.

'Strider? Is that sausage I smell?'

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See you next time!

-Anarwyn