The journey was long, for the distance between Minas Tirith and
Edoras was great, but Éomer and Éowyn rode mostly in silence. Éomer did
not mention Éowyn's cloak, nor that it bore the symbol of Gondor and the
Steward, but he did not often take notice of clothing, and Éowyn was glad
for his silence on the matter. Instead their attention was drawn to the
universal destruction wreaked by the invading armies of Mordor. Although
the dead had long since been buried, there still remained, in great piles
along the roadside, the wrecked equipment and arms of friend and foe alike.
In the towns and villages along their way, the long slow task of
rebuilding was still in its early stages and in many places there was only
rubble where houses had once stood.
When the group passed over the Mering stream and into Rohan, they found that the situation did not improve, though all were heartened to see their homeland again. The vast fields and farms of the Eastfold had been ransacked by the allies of Sauron. What they did not take had been burned, along with the villages and farmhouses in their path. Many of Rohan's horses had been stolen or slaughtered. There was precious little for the people of Rohan to survive on.
As Éomer and Éowyn rode towards the gates of Edoras, they passed by hundreds of tents set up on the edge of the city. People, mostly women and children, lined the road, cheering as the riders approached. The people were ragged and worn, the refugees of a war that, though over on the battlefield, was just beginning its effects on Rohan. The éored sat proudly upon their horses, but their eyes scanned the crowd eagerly. Éomer watched as fathers, brothers and sons were re-united with their loved ones. When all of the riders had passed, however, many who had waited looked to the horizon in grief, searching for a rider who would never again pass through the gates of the city. The cheers of welcome faded and were replaced by the cries of anguish from those who were forever left behind. Some fell to their knees in sorrow, some clung to loved ones for support and others stared silently into the distance as the realization froze them in place. Éomer, though he wanted to show his people a brave face, was overcome. "I have much to do," Éomer said quietly to his sister as they entered the gates of Edoras.
They reached the top of the hill and dismounted their horses. Éowyn followed her brother up the stairs into the golden hall of Meduseld. Servants had already come to light fires in the basins set around the hall, and a meal had been set for them at the head table. Éomer walked towards the throne, the seat that had been their uncle's. He stopped, staring at the ornate chair before him. "This should have been Théodred's honor."
"We cannot change the past, Éomer. We all wish that this war could have been avoided, that those we love did not have to lay down their lives so that we might see peace again. But looking back and wishing that it could have been otherwise will not return them to us and it will not put food in the mouths of our people. The people love you, Éomer, and they trust you. You are a leader of men, they will follow you now in peace as they did in war."
"I know how to lead men into battle, Éowyn, but I do not know the ways of government in peacetime. I am afraid I never expected this honor to come to me, and spent my time studying war instead of administration. It is good that I have you by my side, or no one should be here to teach me to govern."
"Come and have something to eat, Éomer, you must be as hungry as I am." With that, they both sat down and ate silently in the great hall, surrounded by memory and doubt.
Faramir had promised to write as often as possible and so his first letter arrived just a few days after Éowyn had returned to Edoras.
My Dearest Éowyn,
I have returned to Osgiliath and walked its streets for
the first time in peace in many years. Only there are no more
streets, just ash and broken stone where the streets once were.
Once there were gardens and great halls, but now there is only
memory of such things, and hope that we will be able to rebuild
this city, which was once the Citadel of the Stars, jewel of
Gondor. King Aragorn has given this task to me, and I hope that
what I help to create is worthy of our people.
As you doubtless saw as you left Gondor and entered your own
lands, many of our farms and villages have been burned, and the
displaced of our countryside have come to Minas Tirith seeking
help. Minas Tirith, thankfully, has a great store of food and
so the King has fed the people and set them to work rebuilding
our cities. It is amazing how a man's sense of worth can be
restored when given a full belly and a goal to reach. They have
found hope amidst the ashes, which in turn gives me hope as
well. I have done what I can to see to our people's needs.
This morning, as I walked amidst the ruins, I found a small
white flower sprouting from between two bricks. Though all
around it was destroyed, still this small bit of life sprouted
forth, beautiful, proud and strong: I thought instantly of you.
This flower shall be the first of a garden that will be named
for you. My people would have it no other way, for they love
you almost as much as I do.
How does this letter find you? I hope that you are well
and that your brother is also well. I hope that the destruction
that has swept through our cities has not also devastated your
homeland. I long to hear from you, just as I long to look upon
your face again, which is to me like the rising sun. Until
then, my lady, I wait in darkness, but I will wait forever until
the sun shines again on Gondor.
With all my love,
Faramir
Éowyn was quick to reply, but the distance between Edoras and Osgiliath was great and few were the couriers that could carry their correspondence, and so the letters were far between. Éowyn carried all of Faramir's letters with her, close to her heart, as though that could somehow bring him nearer. As time passed, Rohan's troubles seemed only to grow, as did Éowyn's doubt that she would ever be able to return to Gondor and the man she loved.
When the group passed over the Mering stream and into Rohan, they found that the situation did not improve, though all were heartened to see their homeland again. The vast fields and farms of the Eastfold had been ransacked by the allies of Sauron. What they did not take had been burned, along with the villages and farmhouses in their path. Many of Rohan's horses had been stolen or slaughtered. There was precious little for the people of Rohan to survive on.
As Éomer and Éowyn rode towards the gates of Edoras, they passed by hundreds of tents set up on the edge of the city. People, mostly women and children, lined the road, cheering as the riders approached. The people were ragged and worn, the refugees of a war that, though over on the battlefield, was just beginning its effects on Rohan. The éored sat proudly upon their horses, but their eyes scanned the crowd eagerly. Éomer watched as fathers, brothers and sons were re-united with their loved ones. When all of the riders had passed, however, many who had waited looked to the horizon in grief, searching for a rider who would never again pass through the gates of the city. The cheers of welcome faded and were replaced by the cries of anguish from those who were forever left behind. Some fell to their knees in sorrow, some clung to loved ones for support and others stared silently into the distance as the realization froze them in place. Éomer, though he wanted to show his people a brave face, was overcome. "I have much to do," Éomer said quietly to his sister as they entered the gates of Edoras.
They reached the top of the hill and dismounted their horses. Éowyn followed her brother up the stairs into the golden hall of Meduseld. Servants had already come to light fires in the basins set around the hall, and a meal had been set for them at the head table. Éomer walked towards the throne, the seat that had been their uncle's. He stopped, staring at the ornate chair before him. "This should have been Théodred's honor."
"We cannot change the past, Éomer. We all wish that this war could have been avoided, that those we love did not have to lay down their lives so that we might see peace again. But looking back and wishing that it could have been otherwise will not return them to us and it will not put food in the mouths of our people. The people love you, Éomer, and they trust you. You are a leader of men, they will follow you now in peace as they did in war."
"I know how to lead men into battle, Éowyn, but I do not know the ways of government in peacetime. I am afraid I never expected this honor to come to me, and spent my time studying war instead of administration. It is good that I have you by my side, or no one should be here to teach me to govern."
"Come and have something to eat, Éomer, you must be as hungry as I am." With that, they both sat down and ate silently in the great hall, surrounded by memory and doubt.
Faramir had promised to write as often as possible and so his first letter arrived just a few days after Éowyn had returned to Edoras.
My Dearest Éowyn,
I have returned to Osgiliath and walked its streets for
the first time in peace in many years. Only there are no more
streets, just ash and broken stone where the streets once were.
Once there were gardens and great halls, but now there is only
memory of such things, and hope that we will be able to rebuild
this city, which was once the Citadel of the Stars, jewel of
Gondor. King Aragorn has given this task to me, and I hope that
what I help to create is worthy of our people.
As you doubtless saw as you left Gondor and entered your own
lands, many of our farms and villages have been burned, and the
displaced of our countryside have come to Minas Tirith seeking
help. Minas Tirith, thankfully, has a great store of food and
so the King has fed the people and set them to work rebuilding
our cities. It is amazing how a man's sense of worth can be
restored when given a full belly and a goal to reach. They have
found hope amidst the ashes, which in turn gives me hope as
well. I have done what I can to see to our people's needs.
This morning, as I walked amidst the ruins, I found a small
white flower sprouting from between two bricks. Though all
around it was destroyed, still this small bit of life sprouted
forth, beautiful, proud and strong: I thought instantly of you.
This flower shall be the first of a garden that will be named
for you. My people would have it no other way, for they love
you almost as much as I do.
How does this letter find you? I hope that you are well
and that your brother is also well. I hope that the destruction
that has swept through our cities has not also devastated your
homeland. I long to hear from you, just as I long to look upon
your face again, which is to me like the rising sun. Until
then, my lady, I wait in darkness, but I will wait forever until
the sun shines again on Gondor.
With all my love,
Faramir
Éowyn was quick to reply, but the distance between Edoras and Osgiliath was great and few were the couriers that could carry their correspondence, and so the letters were far between. Éowyn carried all of Faramir's letters with her, close to her heart, as though that could somehow bring him nearer. As time passed, Rohan's troubles seemed only to grow, as did Éowyn's doubt that she would ever be able to return to Gondor and the man she loved.
