Author's Note:

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Woman

She knew not what to say. So she kept her silence. She folded her hands before her and let the wind blowing around Meduseld toy with her hair. It irritated her eyes but she did not care.

Éomer stood before her, facing the wide plains.

"I am sorry," Éomer said quietly.

"Your apology will not bring him back." She answered dully. There was a time when she danced and her heart was light and free. Now she felt... cold. Unfeeling. Dead. "The same way it will not bring my heart to life."

Éomer turned and looked at her compassionately.

"My lady," he began.

"Please," she whispered. "Leave me be."

Éomer closed his mouth and nodded. He bowed slightly.

"Théodred loved you dearly." He said. "He told me he planned to wed you upon his return."

She waited until his quiet footsteps receded. Then she wept.