[Authoress's Note:
[Have taken liberties with sequence of events, as Théoden's funeral was accomplished entirely too quickly in the movie, I think. These things take time to prepare.]
3 March, morning
Théodred's funeral was this morning. I do not think I have ever seen the people of this city so morose. Lady Éowyn sang the dirge, to alert the gods to his spirit's presence and guide him to the Great Hall of our ancestors, and many of the women chanted it quietly along with her. Aesith and I were bid to silence, standing with our lady and acting the part of the silent Shieldmaidens. It is an old ritual, and one scarcely remembered for its original purpose, dating back from the days when the women fought alongside the men of Rohan, or perhaps even further back, from the legends of the goddess-warriors who inspired the leaders of the past to greatness. But now the duty is entirely ceremonial. Lady Éowyn, Aesith, and I may have been adorned with golden circlets, with braces on our arms and leather corsets bound about our chests, but warriors we are not.
Lady Éowyn has a fine voice.
It seemed to me that I saw King Théoden weeping – I can not be sure, I turned my head quickly, having forgotten that I was to fix my eyes upon the sky and not upon my companions, and was a bit shamed at this slip in protocol, though I do not believe any noticed. It is no wonder, though. The poor man, to have lost his only son. I suppose this means Lord Éomer will be heir now, for surely King Théoden will recall him from exile.
Following the ceremony, I saw my family for the first time in several weeks. My mother and brothers are well, considering current circumstances, but my father looks so much older. He seems older now than Théoden-King, and I know not what wrought this sudden change – or has he always been so, and I only did not notice? I think young Eibler has grown a great deal in the past month or so, and it is no wonder, perched so near to the brink of manhood. But he has some years yet… some years before the duties of his fathers will fall upon him as they have on Asther and Eigrin. As for those two – Eigrin, as always, hardly seemed to notice my presence, but Asther is changed. I think the dismal aura around Edoras has finally taken a toll on him, for he had no sharp words for me, no jests, no mockery. Whether this is some change on his part, or simply the weight of a heavy soul induced by the Prince's death, I can not tell. They both seem but hollow shells of the strong men they once were. I think me now that Asther has always resented not being able to be a Rider. Eigrin never desired such glory, but Asther simply never had such skill. He resents the world for denying it to him – and
Little Abethen had to be reminded of my name, but he is so young, that is to be expected. He nearly got it right – Abthyn is close enough to Abelyn for a five year old's mind and tongue to master.
My mother, quite a contrast, seems stronger, but then the winter air always did do her well. She is so proud of me – I think she wept tears not only of despair for Théodred, but of joy at seeing her daughter standing beside the Lady Éowyn, playing a part in the funeral rituals. And I can not find it in my heart to hold it against her. She has known little enough happiness in past years, that I should not take this small comfort from her, even if it does happen on the day of our prince's funeral.
Fie me, the children have woken – they slept all through the night, dead to the world, and Éowyn instructed us not to wake them this morning. "There is no need for them to see more proof of death and destruction," she remarked. So we let them rest, but now they are up and will be wanting food. I must tend to them, as Aesith is with Lady Éowyn, and Eilyn and Freithyn are in the solar spinning.
3 March, noon-tide
Quick entry – for we are leaving Edoras, and on such short notice. I had hardly time to throw my sparse belongings in a trunk and heave that onto a wagon (and this diary shall have to be in a pack on my person, along with but one spare shift), before I had to rush to help Lady Éowyn. None of us may bring much – they say we are bound for Helm's Deep, which should be well-provisioned enough. A change or two of clothing (indeed, for those who can afford so much to begin with), food and water for the journey, and weapons for the men. More than that, we can not risk.
A final note – when I said earlier that we women were not warriors, I may have spoken in haste. For as we were packing, I saw the Lady Éowyn with a sword – only for a brief moment, as Aesith and I carried a chest outside – and she can certainly wield it as well as any man. Perhaps it is a noblewoman's training, reserved only for those females of the highest class. Would that she would teach me…
3 March, night
We have stopped to camp for the evening, after walking all day and a fair ways into the night. I must apologize for any poor writing, but the firelight is not very good, and my eyesight is poor enough as it is.
I can say more now of our hasty departure. It seems we are in danger – though precisely from what, I am still not certain – and Théoden-King has decided it wisest to move to the fortress at Helm's Deep. It seems of sense to me – everyone knows that no army has ever breached those gates, and certainly none ever will. We might as well live in the depths of the mountain itself, for all that danger could find us there. But still… it was hard to leave Edoras. I could scarcely believe the orders being given at first, and I must confess I stood rather stupidly in the middle of the hall for a few minutes (though to my credit I was not the only one; when I met up with Freithyn and Aesith, they both seemed out of their wits as well, and of course the little ones were still with me at the time and had not the faintest idea what was going on). I heard a voice saying "My lady… my lady…" and only after a minute did I realize he was speaking to me. I have not yet gotten used to my new position, and often quite forget that being Lady Éowyn's handmaiden makes me a lady in my own right as well (fancy!). "My lady," he said, certainly thinking me daft, "King Théoden has given the order to evacuate the city. Find your fellow handmaidens and your Lady, and prepare yourselves to leave."
And so we did.
Despite the imminent danger to us all, it was a fair enough walk – we of Rohan are a hardy people, and our spirits are always brightened by fresh air and exercise. I daresay it may have done a great many of us a great deal of good, particularly those whose spirits were ailing in the dank air and stillness of the city. I began to feel brighter and more cheerful myself, and the other ladies too, I believe. Aesith and I were given permission by Lady Éowyn to walk freely, not needing to stay by her side (and if I may be so bold, I do believe it was so she could speak to the Ranger by herself without attentive ears nearby), and so we did. After a great deal of prodding from Aesith, I made brave enough to speak to each of the strangers in turn. The Dwarf is too coarse for my tastes, and the Elf too foreign, but it was educational all the same.
The Elf (whose name I now know but can not spell) says that the man is indeed a Ranger, and that his name is Aragorn of the Dúnedain. Dúnedain! Can you imagine? Here in Rohan. I seem to remember something else about the name Aragorn, something I heard years ago, but it will not come to mind now.
Also, the Elf says if he told us his hair-treating secrets, he would have to kill us. I think this was an Elvish attempt at humour, and now I know why they are renowned for poetry and beauty but not great wit.
Éowyn says we will reach Helm's Deep by mid-day tomorrow. She is making stew right now, and Aesith and I are most terribly afraid she's going to ask us to try it. I love my lady dearly, but I love her cooking not at all. She can not even tear bread into pieces without maiming it horribly. But none of us have the heart to tell her anything but good things about it, though I think this may be crueler than we intend it to be, for then she inflicts her creations on others.
Oh, merciful heavens, she's taking the stew to the Ranger to test out first. Goddesses watch over us indeed.