The would be no sleep for Éowyn of Rohan this night.
She felt dead inside, hollow and numb as if she'd impaled herself on her own sword. What purpose had she in life? Denied the chance to ride with the Rohirrim, denied the love she sought from Aragorn . . . was she always to be left behind, always to be alone?
The first pink rays of light crept over the mountains as Éowyn watched the sun rise. Men began to stir again in the camp, though none of them had slept very well. No doubt Éomer and Théoden were preparing themselves to ride for Gondor.
Despair filled her heart, and Éowyn closed it off. She could bear no more pain.