Disclaimer: LotR and all its related characters do not belong to me and are used without permission. Book based. Spoilers potentially for RotK and TTT
Into Shadow She Rode
Chapter 2: The Cages That Surround
by Papillon
"Happy sixteenth birthday, Éowyn!" Éomer cried as he pulled the blindfold from her eyes. Éowyn gasped in delighted surprise as she beheld a beautiful grey mare, with flowing hair and proud bright eyes.
"Oh, Éomer, she is wonderful!" Éowyn said as she ran to the mare's side and held out her hand to be sniffed at and inspected by the horse. "What is her name?" she asked.
Éomer smiled broadly as he responded, "Windfola is what the man I bought her from called her, though you can change it if you wish."
"Nay, Windfola suits her perfectly," she said as she stroked the horse's mane. She turned and hugged Éomer, surprising him.
"Will you come riding with me tomorrow?" she asked, pulling away.
"I cannot," he said regretfully. "Théoden has organized a hunting party. But I shall come with you the day after morrow, if it pleases you."
"That would please me very much indeed," she said.
Éowyn sat on a chair beside the window in her room and looked out upon the evening of her sixteenth birthday, and was reminded of a similar occasion nearly two years ago, when she had been preparing for a feast in the High Hall to celebrate the new counsellor, Gríma. But the feast was in her honor this eve, and she would not be late or disgraced by a muddy dress. She thought of her younger self and was ashamed at the foolish child she had been. Her misgivings about Gríma had been forgotten and dismissed; he had been a wise and just counsellor thus far, and she knew that she had been childish and irrational to be bothered by an ill look in his eyes. Though, she thought, the dream did stop after his arrival…but dreams are often without meaning.
The burning sun was swallowed up in the west as she watched and thought, and so she stood and went down to the great Hall, where her brother and King Théoden were waiting.
Théoden held up his cup of mead, calling out, "A toast! Let us drink to my sister-daughter Éowyn, for she is fair and noble and I am proud to call her my own!"
Éowyn, her cheeks colouring pink, stood and curtseyed. Théoden watched her thoughtfully as she reclaimed her seat. She grows more and more like her mother each day, he thought. He turned to his counsellor and said, "She is truly beautiful, is she not?"
Gríma nodded, saying, "Her countenance grows more lovely each day, my lord. Have you given thought to whom she shall marry?"
"I have not," the king said, "for I am loath to part with her. Her laugh brightens this hall indeed and I would miss her sorely if we were parted."
"I think that is a wise decision, my lord," Gríma said. "She is still very young and innocent, unsuited for marriage."
Théoden smiled. "I imagine she thinks herself unsuited yet for marriage as well. She is still somewhat wild and high-hearted. She wishes not to be tied down to anything, much less a husband. I deem that the only man she favors at all is her brother. They are very close, you know. I remember, when their parents died, they refused to be taken into my house unless the promise was given that they would not be separated. Indeed, she would even ride with him on his raids and hunts if permitted, I think."
"Yet she has become quite a lady," Gríma said. "All who see her are entranced by her grace and skill."
Together, they looked down from the dais to the hall, where the tables had been cleared and the guests were dancing. Éowyn was being twirled about by a pale young man named Faldor and was laughing as her hair spun like golden flax behind her. The king smiled to see her, but an odd look, almost of loneliness, came into Gríma's eyes.
Standing, the king said to Grí ma, "Come, I shall dance among my people. This is an occasion for much joy and we should both celebrate." He stepped down from the dais and took the hand of his late wife, Elfhild's sister. Gríma followed, his eyes now veiled as always, and walked over to where Éowyn was standing alone, having just finished a dance.
"My Lady Éowyn, may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?" he asked.
Éowyn smiled. Once she would have been afraid and suspicious, and a buried instinct made her search his eyes, but she found nothing but wisdom and kindness, and so she said, "You may indeed, Gríma son of Gálmód."
She accepted his proffered hand, and they stepped out amidst the other dancers. She stood just above him, so that he had to look up as he said, "The king and I were just speaking of your beauty."
"Oh, 'tis not true!" she said. " I wish that people would look beyond it, in any case. I am not a pretty bauble to be put on a shelf. I desire to go out and have great adventures and win renown and valor, not to stay in and forever wait for the men to return."
"But you are a woman, a great Lady of Rohan. Your place is in the home," he said.
"I wish I had been born a male," she said wistfully. "But the Ladies of Rohan may still defend their people, when called upon to do so. There have been great shield maidens in the past. I would be one of them. I would fight beside my brother."
"Nay," Gríma said, "it would be a loss too grievous to imagine if you were killed, my Lady."
Éowyn shook her head, a slight edge coming into her voice. "I fear you do not know me very well, my Lord Gríma, for I am a strong hand at the sword and you need not fear death for me on the battlefield. I am well able to protect myself."
"Perhaps that may be so," he said, "but death may come to even the best swordsman unexpected. There are many perilous things afoot in this world, and it would be wise for one so important as yourself to stay at home, safe from unknown dangers."
Éowyn's eyes narrowed. For just a moment, I thought I heard in his voice…an unnamed threat…Nay, 'twas naught but my overactive imagination.
"My Lady?" Gríma asked. "Is aught amiss, my Lady Éowyn? The dance is ending, and there are many other partners who desire an audience with you."
Éowyn brought herself out of her thoughts and looked back at him. "Thank you for dancing with me, my Lord counsellor. It was a pleasure." She murmured the courteous words without noticing them, and, as he took her leave and walked off, her eyes followed him almost against her will. She stood still watching him until, just before he reached the dais, he turned and looked back at her, as if feeling her gaze upon him, and she hastily turned and asked the nearest young man standing near her, Faldor, to dance. After the dance was over, she made sure to find another partner quickly, for she did not wish to dance with Gríma again. Though she enjoyed herself, her earlier gaiety was somehow lost and she had to keep her eyes from straying back to the dais where Gríma sat, ever watchful. She spent the rest of the night thusly, until she departed early for bed, holding to the custom that the guest of honor at a birthday feast must always leave first to have good fortune for the year ahead. And if my instincts do not deceive me, she thought as she left, I shall need good fortune indeed.
As the guests took their leave of King Théoden, Éomer slipped into the shadows at the foot of the stairs and watched them depart. As Faldor passed, he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the darkness. Faldor looked around uneasily, as Éomer was tall and strong and rumored to be quick to anger and Faldor was mild-mannered and somewhat small and thin, but those who passed by paid no heed.
Faldor cleared his throat nervously. "Yes, my Lord Éomer? What do you desire of me?"
"It is not what I desire of you, but what you yourself desire," Éomer said, brows drawn together ominously.
"My Lord," Faldor said timidly, "I know not of what you speak."
"You know very well what I am speaking of," Éomer said. "My sister Éowyn." Faldor's eyes widened at this, as if his secret thoughts had been revealed. Though he then tried to recover his composure, Éomer's keen eyes did not miss the gesture.
"I know you have long desired her," he said, his voice lowering dangerously, "but she is not yours to have. She is no one's to have, but least of all yours. Let her be in peace and disturb not our hall with your presence!"
Faldor shrank away from Éomer's sudden wrath, and made as if to turn and flee, but suddenly turned and with unexpected fury, cried, "And who are you to say who she may love or not?" Then, realizing what he had done, he spun on his heels and ran into the distance.
After Éomer had watched his figure dwindle out of sight, he sighed and said almost to himself, "I am her brother. And she will never love you."
Turning and going back into the house, he was surprised to see Éowyn standing a few steps from the bottom, gazing at him.
"Éowyn!" he said. "Why are you not at rest?"
She stepped down until they stood level and she looked him in the eye. "I saw you speaking to that young man from my window. What did you say to him to make him depart in such a hasty manner?"
Éomer shrugged. " Faldor? 'Twas naught of importance. Nothing for you to concern yourself over, my dear sister."
Éowyn peered into his face with piercing eyes and Éomer was struck by how tall she had become, and how strong in will.
"You have rarely lied to me with success, Éomer," she said. "Do not try to do so now."
"It was nothing," he insisted, but seeing her threatening look, he relented, saying, "He is very entranced by you, and I told him that you did not return his love and that he would be better off seeking marriage elsewhere. That is all."
Éowyn held his gaze a moment longer, then stepped back. "Perhaps that is all you said, but I do not doubt you said it intending to frighten. You are more intimidating than you have a right to be sometimes."
She sighed. "Éomer, when will you stop watching over me as if I were a new-born foal on shaky legs? I can defend myself, and if his attentions had been so unwelcome as you seem to think they were, I could have easily discouraged them without your help."
"But," cried Éomer, "you certainly did not love him! You hardly know his name!"
"That is true," she said, turning away to gaze off into the moonlight, "but he should have the right to dream impossible dreams if he wishes."
Éomer frowned. "Not if these dreams are directed towards you."
She turned back to him and cried, "Éomer! I am sixteen years of age! I am able to make my own decisions! So please leave your meddling alone!"
Angrily, she began walking up the steps to Meduseld, but at the top she heard his voice from below and halted.
"Éowyn," he said. "Forgive me. I am sorry if I have angered you. I only wish to protect you, as I swore to do so long ago. I have not forgotten the vow I gave and I will uphold it to the end of my days. Please understand how much I love you. I could not bear to lose you."
Without moving, she said, so that he had to strain to hear: "If you love me so, my dear brother, do not stifle me. Do not keep me in a cage for the rest of my life. I will go mad if you do, mark me now! I will go mad!"
So saying, she entered the now-dark Hall and was lost to his eyes.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it a lot. I like this chapter much, much better than the first one, and the next chapter is much better too. Tell me if you liked it better! I think it just took me a little while to hit my stride, or whatever. A note about the surprise: No, it doesn't involve Aragorn for the most part, unfortunately, because it's going to have the same ending as the books, though it'll take some detours getting there. And it's dark. And some people aren't going to like it! I would say more, but I've really got to rush, so until then, review and enjoy!