Chapter 4: Memories and Fleeing
A small, sad smile is on Eowyn's lips as she leads her and Aragorn's horses. The sky is clear. A refreshing breeze plays on her face and through her hair. The day is lovely. But the day does not reflect on all the weary people. They have fled their homes and are making for the refuge Helm's Deep – they will be safe there. They had to leave many of their belongings behind.
The sunshine does not lift Eowyn's spirit. She rebukes herself for these feelings of despair and heartbreak. She is stronger than this. She is a fighter. But she is tempted to drown in these feelings.
He is in love with an elf, she thinks to herself. She remembers the jewel he wore round his throat. It was of pure silver with a small diamond. Never had she seen a jewel that was simple yet breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. It was a symbol of their bonding together.
What was she like, the elf maiden that possessed his heart? Was she beautiful? She must be, more so than the jewel. She must be worthy of his love. Eowyn sighs. What chance can she have with Aragorn? She cannot compare with an elf.
Eowyn squares her shoulders. A determined frown comes over her face. She will try – no, she will – forget what she feels for the ranger. She will forget how she had longed to stay forever in his arms when he held her when they first met. She will forget the shock that went through her when she looked into his eyes for the first time. She will forget how he seemed to see right into her soul when she had shown him she had more than "some" skill with the sword. She will forget the way he smiled and stared at her the other day. She will forget…
"Wargs! We're under attack!" The cry is echoed and spreads like wildfire. Panic breaks out.
Aragorn rushes towards Eowyn. She drops the reins of his horse and steps aside, allowing him to jump on. She does so with her gaze on the ground, the frown still on her face. Aragorn notices and half pauses before jumping onto his steed; Eowyn does not notice.
"Eowyn!"
She turns and watches Théoden gallop up to her. His eyes are full of worry, his hair in his face.
"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep," he says.
"I can fight!" Eowyn protests strongly.
"No!" he snaps. He looks down at her. "You must do this, for me."
Eowyn holds his gaze stubbornly for a second, then turns away and rushes to the women.
"Stick together!" she calls over the sound of pounding hoofs. "Make for the lower ground!"
She turns and watches the men galloping away to meet the wargs. She finds Aragorn, who holds her gaze for a moment. She cannot read his expression. Her face is full of wishful-ness. She should be riding to meet the attack, too. She stands still as a statue, unmindful of the women and children running past her. Her hair flies about her as she watches Aragorn turns his horse and rides off. Eowyn stays still for a second more, then directs the others, bitterness in her eyes.
Being inside the fortress of Helm's Deep is a welcoming relief to the tired women. Many graciously thank Eowyn for her leading them to the fortress. Eowyn acknowledges them half-heartedly. She is anxious for those who fought.
The fortress is bustling with activity as the men arrive. Eowyn quickly surveys them and is dismayed to see so few have returned. Women rush to the men, searching for their loved ones. There are tears of joy and sorrow for those returned and those lost. Eowyn catches Théoden's eye and he approaches her.
"We are victorious, all have been slain. But we have lost many for their courage," he says, as though having read her thoughts.
Her eyes sweep over the tired and wounded men more carefully and slowly. She sees the elf, Legolas, walk. His head downcast, sorrow in his every step.
"My lady."
Eowyn turns toward the voice. Gimli, the dwarf, bows his head in respect. She feels her heart sink. She finds herself blinking back tears as she meets eyes, which are full of sadness.
"Lord Aragorn – where is he?" she asks in a low voice.
She sees that Gimli is also trying to keep tears from falling.
"I am sorry," he says, his voice shaky. "He fell."
Eowyn draws a shaky breath. Will Aragorn fall for good this time? she wonders. Will we all fall?
The battle rages on above them. Another noise, a noise like banging, faintly reaches her ears.
"My lady!" she barely hears the voice.
She jumps up and presses her ear against the doors. "Yes?!"
"You are to take the women and children to the mountains," Hama's voice floats through the thick doors.
"Where is the king?" Eowyn demands.
"He commands you to take the passage!" Hama's voice is becoming more urgent.
"But –"
"Please, lady! The king lives as of yet. The fortress will not hold much longer. He wants you to take them to safety."
Eowyn bits back the remark on the tip of her tongue. They are to flee.
"I will do as the king wishes. Give him my love," her voice shakes.
"Yes, my lady. May the Valar protect you," Hama says.
"And you," Eowyn answers and turns from the door.
Mowen, Laesien, Neisa, Tralede, Larewen, Ethoethien, Freda, and Thathien rush to her.
"Get them all up. Take all that can be carried of those few baskets of food, for we will need them," Eowyn gestures to some baskets of tomatoes and apples against a wall. "Threaten those who refuse to go. Carry those who are too weak. And get the torches."
The women nod and rush to do as Eowyn instructed. She stops Freda.
"Hold on to this," she says, handing the girl the battered basket. Freda's eyebrows rise in puzzlement at the weight of the basket. She ignores her inquiring her look and goes to Mowen.
"I am going to scout ahead. Can you be among the last to leave?"
Mowen understands. "Yes, though I have no weapon if the need arises for one."
"Here." Eowyn hands her dagger to her. She goes to the baskets that are filled with food and pushes them aside. She then pushes against the stone and a door slowly swings open.
She looks at the women and sees that nearly all are to their feet. She then goes through the doorway and into the dark passage.