Chapter Fourteen
Eowyn's heart felt like ice as she looked out to the evening sky. The blackness surrounded her, matching her mood. Gwythilian slept soundly in the crook of her arm as she stood at the top of the magnificent stairs. She remembered walking here, in this very spot, spying out the newcomers from a distance.
How could wonderful events turn so rapidly to evil? Eowyn pondered, her chest tight with sorrow. She knew it was silly to care so much for one person she barely knew, but she could not help mourning for this new-found friend. Perhaps it was because Maeg was a woman; for, being a Shield-Maiden, she rarely conversed with women. Sniffling, Eowyn inhaled deeply before she returned to the Hall.
***
Her body felt like lead, so heavy she could not even twitch her toes. Her eye lids seemed glued shut. Swallowing was difficult, for her throat was dry and scratchy. She could feel warm rays of the early morning light rest on her face. Moaning softly, she heard rustling and then a warm hand engulfed her own.
"Maegraukowen?" a soft voice uttered, braking.
Using every ounce of strength in her being, Maeg fluttered her eyes open. Everything was blurry, and she could only see a large figure before her, dressed in a dark blue gown. Blinking severely, Eowyn's face floated before her, her eyes alight with hope.
"You're awake!" she exclaimed with excitement, squeezing her hand gently.
Slowly, Maeg lifted her hand from the bed and rested it on her throat. Eowyn seemed confused at this motion, but when Maeg opened her mouth, Eowyn jumped from the stool which sat next to the bed, and grabbed a small wooden cup filled with fresh, cool water.
Slowly, Eowyn dripped the cool water down Maeg's parched throat. Dabbing her chin, Eowyn sat upon the stool once again.
"Thank you," Maeg croaked, smiling weakly.
"How are you feeling?"
Maeg paused before answering, trying to interpret the weariness which hovered around Eowyn's eyes.
"I am very tired…so tired…" Maeg croaked. Eowyn's form straightened and Maeg noted the action.
"What happened?" Maeg asked finally, trying to read Eowyn's actions.
"Well, you collapsed, and I found you and helped you to your bed," Eowyn began, guarding her words carefully as she watched Maeg's face closely. "Then you fell asleep. The trip must have worn you out!" Eowyn ended, pasting on a smile, trying not to alarm Maeg.
"Eowyn," Maeg began, her voice taking on a serious tone. "What are you not telling me?" Eowyn withdrew from Maeg's side and her eyes widened as unbidden tears formed.
The sight of Eowyn's tears brought an icy fear to Maeg's spine. Her heart slowed and beads of nervous sweat blossomed on her forehead.
"Oh, Maeg!" Eowyn exclaimed. "I didn't mean to frighten you!" She covered her mouth in horror as she surveyed Maeg's pale face.
"There would have been no preventing it," Maeg whispered, a sob catching in her tight throat. "Just please, tell me what is wrong,"
"You…are dying," Eowyn choked out, the tears spilling freely as though a dam had just broken.
Realization smacked Maeg in the face with great impact.
I should have known…all those pains…the weariness…oh what am I to do? What about my baby?
"Where's Gwythilian?" Maeg asked curtly, searching the bed for the small bundle. Her arms ached to hold the precious infant, wanting to relish in the warmth forever…
"She is right here," Eowyn answered, picking Gwythilian up from a small drawer-like box from the floor. Eowyn rested Gwythilian on Maeg's chest, her cheek resting upon the crook of Maeg's neck.
"I need to be…alone," Maeg said hoarsely, sending a sympathetic smile as Eowyn nodded in understanding and left the room quietly.
Maeg lay in silence, rubbing Gwythilian's back soothingly. Tears flowed down her temples, wetting her hair which sat haphazardly upon the pillow. Her throat was sore and tight.
"Oh, Donanto," Maeg sobbed, closing her eyes, trying to picture her dead husband's handsome face. His dark eyes engulfed her, and his white smile glowed from his tan face. His unruly, dark hair curled rebelliously about his left eyebrow.
Shaking herself from the reverie, Maeg looked down into Gwythilian's sleeping form. Her heart dropped as a sudden thought came to her.
"What will become of you, little one?"
***
As Eowyn walked through the quiet halls, she pondered her misfortune. For, still wallowing in sorrow over her recently dead cousin, Theodred, she is now losing a friend.
Why does all this evil have to happen? Eowyn questioned desperately. How you will pay, Saruman! Eowyn thought with rage as she clenched her hands together.
Eowyn's thoughts were interrupted by quick footsteps from behind her. Turning, Eowyn recognized Keindra, her servant girl. The young girl, of only 12 years, pitter-pattered her way towards Eowyn, her skirts held firmly in her hands.
"Miss Eowyn," Keindra gasped, her face flushed with her fast pace. "King Théoden wants to see you, immediately!"
Eowyn's brows furrowed in interest and followed the flustered girl down the hall.
When Eowyn arrived in the large dining room, she saw Théoden slumping in his throne, Gandalf sitting next to him, whispering to him earnestly. As Eowyn stepped closer inside, she noticed two small children sitting at one of the large tables, huddled together sipping their soup. Confusion whirling around her, she looked to her Uncle who stood when he saw her.
"Eowyn," he said wearily. He stepped down from the throne and put his long arm about her small shoulder in a fatherly gesture.
"What is going on, Uncle?" Eowyn asked, her eyes searching his for answers. Théoden sighed heavily and held his hand toward the small children.
"These children came from one of the villages in Rohan…" Théoden muttered, trailing off. Eowyn turned to face her Uncle in the face, wanting to know what he wasn't telling her.
"They came, bearing evil news," Gandalf answered instead, standing tall from his seat. Eowyn looked up to him. Her brows curved and her eyes darkened with fear.
"News? What news?" Eowyn asked desperately, clinging to Théoden's arm.
"Their village was attacked by Uruk-Hai, without any warning," Gandalf said, gravely. Eowyn gasped in horror, all her fears confirmed. Her heart seemed to be ripped from her in mourning for her people and her homeland.
Slowly, Eowyn left her Uncle's side to stand before the two children. One was a young girl, not more than seven or eight years; her blond hair curling rebelliously about her dirty face. Her eyes were wide with fear and she stiffened when Eowyn smiled at her. The other, was a boy of about eleven years, his arm going about his sister with protection.
Smiling in sympathy, Eowyn kneeled before them.
"You will be safe here, dear children," Eowyn soothed, her twinkling smile relieving the children. They began spooning the steaming soup into their ravishing mouths.
"What shall we do, Uncle?" Eowyn asked, standing once again. Théoden had retreated back to his throne, his head slumped forward. Gandalf rested his hand upon Théoden's armrest, and he looked into Théoden's pale face.
"We must fight, we cannot let them conquer anymore villages," Gandalf advised.
"I will not bring further death to my people!" Théoden challenged rising from his throne in anger and stepping down in a fury, his hands clenched.
"Open war is upon you, whether you risk it or not," Aragorn spoke up. He sat nearly in the shadows, puffing on a pipe. He leaned forward, his hand upon his knee. Gimli, who sat opposite him drinking ale, paused his motions as Théoden bore down upon Aragorn.
"Excuse me, but the last time I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn was King of Rohan," he sneered before he turned his back upon a frustrated Aragorn.
"Well, then what are you to do?" Gandalf inquired, sighing with exasperation.
Théoden stood in silence for a moment, chewing his lower lip as he looked to the children, then to Eowyn's proud form.
"We shall go to Helm's Deep," he muttered hoarsely. Eowyn gasped and ran to his side.
"But Uncle, have you forgotten Maegraukowen?"
Aragorn perked up at this notion and he popped the pipe out of his mouth, holding his breath.
"What about her?" Théoden asked wearily. Eowyn shrank back in disbelief.
"She is dying!" Eowyn exclaimed, tears forming for what seemed like the hundredth time. "She cannot take this journey,"
"Well, if she is already dying, then what do you have to worry about?" Théoden asked coldly as he walked from the dining hall.
***A/N: *hiss*! Well, how rude! ;) What do you think of this chappie? Please Review!