*AUTHOR'S NOTE* 

~ Once again, all the dialogue has been taken from "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" book 5, chapter 2 "The Passing of the Grey Company." ~

March 7, 3019

I tried once again to convince Aragorn to let me ride with the host.  I once again failed.

I awoke before dawn this morning and dressed myself as a rider, with a sword at my side.  I fixed a cup of wine and, when dawn broke, brought it out to the edge of the city where the host was preparing to leave.  I also went to make my last plea to Aragorn.  When I reached them I took a drink from the cup, then handed it to Aragorn.  He drank from it also and then spoke.

"Farewell, Lady of Rohan," he said, "I drink to the fortunes of your House, and of you, and of all your people.  Say to your brother: beyond the shadows we may meet again!"

I began to cry at his words.  Here was a great man, brave, honest and like no other, riding to his death.  Why?  I had asked myself this question many times.  Why?  What was he hoping to find at the Paths of the Dead?  I wanted to know.  I wanted to ride with him and find out.  I wanted to gain the same glory he would if he lived to tell the tale of passing through the Paths of the Dead.

"But Aragorn, wilt thou go?" I asked, hoping I had mistaken his words from the night before, yet at the same time, knowing I had heard him perfectly.

"I will," he replied.

"Then wilt thou not let me ride with this company as I have asked?"

"I will not, lady," he said, "For that I could not grant without the leave of the king and of your brother; and they will not return until tomorrow.  But I count now every hour, indeed every minute.  Farewell!"

"I beg thee!" I cried, falling to my knees.

"Nay, lady," he said.  He took my hand and raised me to stand up.  He then kissed my hand.  He may as well have kissed my mouth, for the feel of his lips on my skin traveled to my mouth and my lips trembled.  They trembled in a way that it seemed they were searching for his lips to be able to kiss them back.  But his lips were not there.  He had already climbed onto his horse and turned to leave with the host.

I stood still, my hands clenched at my side, until the riders disappeared.  Then, alone, I walked down empty streets to the hall, Meduseld.

Alone in my room I now sit.  Why is he taking the Paths of the Dead?  Why won't he let me go with him?  If he knows he is riding to his own death, why is he going?  I would rather have the honor of dying by his side than stay here.  For Edoras has nothing to offer me.  If I die here, it will be the death of an old woman, whom age or sickness has consumed.  If I die in war or peril, it will be a glorious death, a death that will earn me honor and respect.  I would rather die with honor and respect.

Eowyn

*A/N*

~ It took me a while to figure out how I was going to write this part of the book.  I hope you all like it, especially Aeredhel (btw…when I typed this in Microsoft Word, it had "Aeredhel" as a misspelled word.  When I looked to see the options for what the "correct spelling" could possibly be, the first suggestion was "earache".  I found that funny)!

Thank you all for reading this!  Please review!

Much love to you all,

~*~flor~*~