Gee Katie. I wonder if that is what I meant? Worms arent very nice things
are they? Don't let me pick on you cricket girl from Tulsa. I don't mean it
badly.
Agador of the Woods: You are really hilarious. Did you know that? The whole apple thing was meant to display symbolically Eowyn's opinion on her situation. No poison was involved in the making of this fic. I wanted to use oranges but it would be higly improbale that there were oranges in Middle Earth seeing the Europe did not encounter them until Naval exploration.I got that nifty fact from "A Girl named Birdy." I think that was the title of it. It is an historical perspective of a noble girl's life. It was really hilarious. But any way. I am sorry if the apples confuse you. You might connect them with other symbols like in "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves" where the apple is poisoned. Who knows? The idea was that The apple did not taste good to her as it usually does which symbolizes that she did not like her predictament and what she knew she had to go do. Sorry for the confusion Heel-Woman.
Thank you --- (person with out an adequate name) also for the pointing out of the discrepencies. I cannot really change the story now though. My purpose in writing this is not to be accurate so much as to create a good story with good literary elements in it. Maybe someday when I am a better writer I focs more on the details because the actual writing of the story will become easier for me. I seem to find that the fanfiction story, no matter how many times you go back and you edit it, is only a first draft until it is completed. You will never really know how things will fit together until you are done with it. Therefore when I have entirely finish the writing of this fic I will go back and revise the entire thing. Then the story will be open for picking out the details like whose father is who and who is prettier looking. But for the whole better looking thing. I dont think that what the author says really matters in this case because it is Eowyn's opinion. Not everyone has the same tastes but that is just a picky detail. Once again I thank you. I like reviews like this that require thought and looking over on my part.
For Losing Grip- Thank you for the excellent reviews. I like it when someone tells me their plain indiscrimantly truthful opinions on what I write. An author cannot get better if they donot work out their flaws. Inorder to work them out you need to first recognize them.
AND FOR EVERYONE: How do you feel about Amaden as a character? Do you think that I did a good job creating him? What do you think I should focus on in the future when I go about creating original characters? I hope no one thinks him Mary-Sueish do they? What about Eowyn? Is she a Mary-Sue? I tried to give her faults like her childish behavior and her just plain jumpy, arrogant, and obstinate personality. Do you think that it did the trick? Does she come off as a likeable but imperfect character or like you like Aahz and you want to kick her head in?
***
**
*
**
***
Here we were. In Rohan. The city I loved. The funny thing is that I would rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. Isn't that stupid? To love a place so much that you would die for it, but to not want to even reside there or so much as look at it.
Oh well there is no turning back now. Amaden made sure to warn me of that fact before the grand city was so much as visible in the rocky hills. As always the sight took my breath away. The hills of my homeland, rampant with horses and the gallant men who spent everyday with those horses. The horses were a spectacular sight. The trademark of Rohan. You couldn't find a better horse anywhere in the land. The men bred the horses. The horses bred the men.
My favorite horse had always been the horse named Shadowfax. He was also the obvious favorite of the King. I would ride him through the hills of Rohan. Not just near the city but on excursions to different regions as well. I would even ride him solitaire to Gondor to visit Denethor and his family.
Shadowfax isn't a regular horse. By no means is he. He has wits and a way about him. It was as if he could sense the way I was feeling and exactly how I wanted him to move. He would do it too...that is, of course, if he was in a decent mood. When he was having one of his petulant snooty days, not so few and far between as you might guess, I add, the snotty horse would do everything in his power to iritate you. Many a days he would just try and buck me off. He never really respected or tolerated any rider besides my father but every once in a while my persistence paid off and he allowed me to ride him. It wasn't really that bad.
Amaden poked me in the shoulder, "In preparation to what is to come you are thinking about horses? How is that to help you at all? It will take more than horses, luck, and pride to save your skin. I suggest you meditate on what you are planning to do and what you are planning to say in order to make this quest a complete success. One glitch in this and you will not just put your own life in danger but also all of ours and the conspirators who aid us as well. Do you want their deaths on your conscience?"
"If you don't like what I think about then don't read my mind." I said with a false threatening sound to my voice. It wasn't time to worry about looking tough. I had more important things to do. Things like worrying. I laughted in a half hearted fashion as if to smooth it over. "Besides I don't need to talk all I need to do is lift my tunic up."
Faramir frowned, "You are not taking this very seriously are you Eowyn? You need to be vigilant. We donot wish to lose you to this."
I could cry. If only he knew. If only I knew how to tell him exactly what I was thinking. I am so afraid. "Faramir, I won't mess this up. It will be as easy getting free beer from a sleeping drunkard."
Faramir looked throughly disgusted with me. He had reason to. Gandalf smiled in his all knowing way. Does he actually have a role in all this? It seems as if he just has been tagging along for the ride. It doesn't really matter now, does it?
***
Entering the city of Rohan was as if entering it for the first time. It does not matter that I was born here. It is no longer the same place. Buildings and shops were in need of repair. The store designed for the sale of linen was no longer the marvel it had once been. In just the three months time since I had last been here an unnaturally nearly spontaneous delapatation had occured. The once beautiful oak wood doors with inlay of pearl and pine and carvings that depicted the history of the city had cracked from the bottom to nearly half way up in one place cleaving apart an ornate design of an ancient King's face. A handle of oak had broken into two pieces. One half hung limply from its post on the door and the other half was on the floor scuffed up as if it had been kicked about.
The state of the door held true for the rest of the town. It looked as if it had not just been neglected but misused. As if it had been raped by an army of orcs, everything of value and meaning to its inhabitiants was destroyed and the city was left to rot. I knew that it was not an army of orcs that had done this. It was worse. Much worse. The greed of a imposter and the failings of a great king led to such devastating consequences as I saw as I, alone, marched to the very door of the King, Theoden's, palace.
Strangers to this land stared out at me with threatening visages as I passed soundlessly forward. I had to do this. I had to do it alone... for the sake of everything that I believe in I must do this. If my father is not returned to his normal self the central goverment of Rohan will be corrupted by the squandering Snake and eventually abandoned to a greater evil than even he posesses. Boldly I stuck my chin up torwards the air and increased the length of my strides in a slowing paced gait. It was meant to look dignified and by all means I think that I got the effect across. There were of course personal advantages to these pursuits as well. With an elevated chin I did not have to look at the scowling imposters, and by having a slower speed I was delaying my arrival.
Eventually I had strode up the magnificent rounding steps surrounded by parched plant life to the large edifice and ignoring still the jeering and hollering people in the streets. I pounded on the door with a resounding 'boom boom boom'. Simple as that, I thought. I seal my fate with a simple knock. Without even a struggle I surrendered myself to the Snake.
The street people silenced when I knocked, apparently awaiting the opening of the door. When they heard the creaking of the warped wooden door on the rusting hinges they scattered and made it look as if they were unconcerned and uninterested at all with the palace. Men picked up shovels and began digging. Others picked up their dropped items and made themselves look busy, adjusting their carrying bags or filing through papers or just walking in the exact oppisite direction through the shadows of the early morning brought on by the buildings.
The door must have been newly installed but never finished. The wood was not protected by seal of any sort the metal neverprotected from rust.In a few months time the state of the door projected the state of the people living behind it. One of these people stuck their head out through the door and toothly grinned, looking me up and down, before ushering me in.
"My a lady! A dirty lady but an elegant one nontheless by the looks of her." He said with a veery unintelligent voice, his ears peaking out through his greasy blackened hair. It looked as if his hair was masked with soot. He might have been sleeping near the kitchen fires. The hearth there had a tendancy to emit extra soot.
I did not know this man. The servants from my childhood had been there since I was young, and many since before I was even born. This one like presumably many others was hired by the Snake. Where did all of the previous servants go? I did not even see any one I knew in the streets. It was as if they were all hiding inside waiting for the strangers to leave them.
"I am lady Eowyn, daughter of the King, Theoden of Rohan" I stated in a demanding and brusque tone of voice, "I bid you now to tell sir Grima that I have arrive and am waiting for him to greet me."
His eyes lightened up in recognition. The servant bowed deeply and gave me a smile showing once again his large yellowing teeth. "Yes milady. Master Grima speaks often of you. Although me thinks..." He paused a moment and cocked his head at an angle. "What he says is not always the way a woman should be spoken of."
I grimaced as he turned his back and headed down the familiar hallways of my home. The strange familiar hallways.
Agador of the Woods: You are really hilarious. Did you know that? The whole apple thing was meant to display symbolically Eowyn's opinion on her situation. No poison was involved in the making of this fic. I wanted to use oranges but it would be higly improbale that there were oranges in Middle Earth seeing the Europe did not encounter them until Naval exploration.I got that nifty fact from "A Girl named Birdy." I think that was the title of it. It is an historical perspective of a noble girl's life. It was really hilarious. But any way. I am sorry if the apples confuse you. You might connect them with other symbols like in "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves" where the apple is poisoned. Who knows? The idea was that The apple did not taste good to her as it usually does which symbolizes that she did not like her predictament and what she knew she had to go do. Sorry for the confusion Heel-Woman.
Thank you --- (person with out an adequate name) also for the pointing out of the discrepencies. I cannot really change the story now though. My purpose in writing this is not to be accurate so much as to create a good story with good literary elements in it. Maybe someday when I am a better writer I focs more on the details because the actual writing of the story will become easier for me. I seem to find that the fanfiction story, no matter how many times you go back and you edit it, is only a first draft until it is completed. You will never really know how things will fit together until you are done with it. Therefore when I have entirely finish the writing of this fic I will go back and revise the entire thing. Then the story will be open for picking out the details like whose father is who and who is prettier looking. But for the whole better looking thing. I dont think that what the author says really matters in this case because it is Eowyn's opinion. Not everyone has the same tastes but that is just a picky detail. Once again I thank you. I like reviews like this that require thought and looking over on my part.
For Losing Grip- Thank you for the excellent reviews. I like it when someone tells me their plain indiscrimantly truthful opinions on what I write. An author cannot get better if they donot work out their flaws. Inorder to work them out you need to first recognize them.
AND FOR EVERYONE: How do you feel about Amaden as a character? Do you think that I did a good job creating him? What do you think I should focus on in the future when I go about creating original characters? I hope no one thinks him Mary-Sueish do they? What about Eowyn? Is she a Mary-Sue? I tried to give her faults like her childish behavior and her just plain jumpy, arrogant, and obstinate personality. Do you think that it did the trick? Does she come off as a likeable but imperfect character or like you like Aahz and you want to kick her head in?
***
**
*
**
***
Here we were. In Rohan. The city I loved. The funny thing is that I would rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. Isn't that stupid? To love a place so much that you would die for it, but to not want to even reside there or so much as look at it.
Oh well there is no turning back now. Amaden made sure to warn me of that fact before the grand city was so much as visible in the rocky hills. As always the sight took my breath away. The hills of my homeland, rampant with horses and the gallant men who spent everyday with those horses. The horses were a spectacular sight. The trademark of Rohan. You couldn't find a better horse anywhere in the land. The men bred the horses. The horses bred the men.
My favorite horse had always been the horse named Shadowfax. He was also the obvious favorite of the King. I would ride him through the hills of Rohan. Not just near the city but on excursions to different regions as well. I would even ride him solitaire to Gondor to visit Denethor and his family.
Shadowfax isn't a regular horse. By no means is he. He has wits and a way about him. It was as if he could sense the way I was feeling and exactly how I wanted him to move. He would do it too...that is, of course, if he was in a decent mood. When he was having one of his petulant snooty days, not so few and far between as you might guess, I add, the snotty horse would do everything in his power to iritate you. Many a days he would just try and buck me off. He never really respected or tolerated any rider besides my father but every once in a while my persistence paid off and he allowed me to ride him. It wasn't really that bad.
Amaden poked me in the shoulder, "In preparation to what is to come you are thinking about horses? How is that to help you at all? It will take more than horses, luck, and pride to save your skin. I suggest you meditate on what you are planning to do and what you are planning to say in order to make this quest a complete success. One glitch in this and you will not just put your own life in danger but also all of ours and the conspirators who aid us as well. Do you want their deaths on your conscience?"
"If you don't like what I think about then don't read my mind." I said with a false threatening sound to my voice. It wasn't time to worry about looking tough. I had more important things to do. Things like worrying. I laughted in a half hearted fashion as if to smooth it over. "Besides I don't need to talk all I need to do is lift my tunic up."
Faramir frowned, "You are not taking this very seriously are you Eowyn? You need to be vigilant. We donot wish to lose you to this."
I could cry. If only he knew. If only I knew how to tell him exactly what I was thinking. I am so afraid. "Faramir, I won't mess this up. It will be as easy getting free beer from a sleeping drunkard."
Faramir looked throughly disgusted with me. He had reason to. Gandalf smiled in his all knowing way. Does he actually have a role in all this? It seems as if he just has been tagging along for the ride. It doesn't really matter now, does it?
***
Entering the city of Rohan was as if entering it for the first time. It does not matter that I was born here. It is no longer the same place. Buildings and shops were in need of repair. The store designed for the sale of linen was no longer the marvel it had once been. In just the three months time since I had last been here an unnaturally nearly spontaneous delapatation had occured. The once beautiful oak wood doors with inlay of pearl and pine and carvings that depicted the history of the city had cracked from the bottom to nearly half way up in one place cleaving apart an ornate design of an ancient King's face. A handle of oak had broken into two pieces. One half hung limply from its post on the door and the other half was on the floor scuffed up as if it had been kicked about.
The state of the door held true for the rest of the town. It looked as if it had not just been neglected but misused. As if it had been raped by an army of orcs, everything of value and meaning to its inhabitiants was destroyed and the city was left to rot. I knew that it was not an army of orcs that had done this. It was worse. Much worse. The greed of a imposter and the failings of a great king led to such devastating consequences as I saw as I, alone, marched to the very door of the King, Theoden's, palace.
Strangers to this land stared out at me with threatening visages as I passed soundlessly forward. I had to do this. I had to do it alone... for the sake of everything that I believe in I must do this. If my father is not returned to his normal self the central goverment of Rohan will be corrupted by the squandering Snake and eventually abandoned to a greater evil than even he posesses. Boldly I stuck my chin up torwards the air and increased the length of my strides in a slowing paced gait. It was meant to look dignified and by all means I think that I got the effect across. There were of course personal advantages to these pursuits as well. With an elevated chin I did not have to look at the scowling imposters, and by having a slower speed I was delaying my arrival.
Eventually I had strode up the magnificent rounding steps surrounded by parched plant life to the large edifice and ignoring still the jeering and hollering people in the streets. I pounded on the door with a resounding 'boom boom boom'. Simple as that, I thought. I seal my fate with a simple knock. Without even a struggle I surrendered myself to the Snake.
The street people silenced when I knocked, apparently awaiting the opening of the door. When they heard the creaking of the warped wooden door on the rusting hinges they scattered and made it look as if they were unconcerned and uninterested at all with the palace. Men picked up shovels and began digging. Others picked up their dropped items and made themselves look busy, adjusting their carrying bags or filing through papers or just walking in the exact oppisite direction through the shadows of the early morning brought on by the buildings.
The door must have been newly installed but never finished. The wood was not protected by seal of any sort the metal neverprotected from rust.In a few months time the state of the door projected the state of the people living behind it. One of these people stuck their head out through the door and toothly grinned, looking me up and down, before ushering me in.
"My a lady! A dirty lady but an elegant one nontheless by the looks of her." He said with a veery unintelligent voice, his ears peaking out through his greasy blackened hair. It looked as if his hair was masked with soot. He might have been sleeping near the kitchen fires. The hearth there had a tendancy to emit extra soot.
I did not know this man. The servants from my childhood had been there since I was young, and many since before I was even born. This one like presumably many others was hired by the Snake. Where did all of the previous servants go? I did not even see any one I knew in the streets. It was as if they were all hiding inside waiting for the strangers to leave them.
"I am lady Eowyn, daughter of the King, Theoden of Rohan" I stated in a demanding and brusque tone of voice, "I bid you now to tell sir Grima that I have arrive and am waiting for him to greet me."
His eyes lightened up in recognition. The servant bowed deeply and gave me a smile showing once again his large yellowing teeth. "Yes milady. Master Grima speaks often of you. Although me thinks..." He paused a moment and cocked his head at an angle. "What he says is not always the way a woman should be spoken of."
I grimaced as he turned his back and headed down the familiar hallways of my home. The strange familiar hallways.
