AN: And we shift focus a bit now, this time to those within taking shelter from the rain, Arwen and Eowyn. This is done mostly through Eowyn's voice.
It was a silly thing, to dream the dreams of Elves and warriors when one is expected to be neither, when one is expected for other tasks altogether. A strong woman, a true woman, and at times a foolishly bold woman, she was all of these in one. But, still a woman. Indeed did she know the thoughts and wanderings of women, though her heart lie mostly in battle she was no different than the others in so many ways. Powerful, true, all these things and more, they were spoken along side her name as though a prayer for things left not yet hoped for. A shimmering soul with faith in her own hand upon the blade, and that of others, all this and so much more. Yet, she dreamed of many things while her hand did not clasp the hilt, in her hours away from those bloody fields and empty roads. They expected this too of her, in a way, for she was prone to wild ideas, that is what made her a shinning star among her people. But, what comes to pass when stars grow dim, when that twinkling light is boxed away?
She tried to not trouble herself over such things, even on this dark day when the rains outside poured down in nature's mourning. Many mourned the same, over a warrior lost too soon, years gone by seemed but days. It was a dark, dreary time that filled her with great weary thought. And it captured her dreams in a silvered cage, gray bars of iron rusting to jagged edges to trap her hopes behind those shards. This day, of all the days the year brought, troubled her the most. There was no peace, only the dragging of the hours through the broken morning and noon as the sky drenched the world outside in heavy rivers of liquid. It felt as if the entire world had decided to wash away this hour, and she could only stand by and watch the colors drain off into abyss. And amid it all she felt her throat tighten as she whisked herself away from the open window and back through the hallways.
It was perhaps despair that edged at her soul, and good reason enough dwelled in her mind. In truth she could not claim to know well the man the world held sorrow over this day, but she knew those who were deeply pained by it. Even her own husband, wise and kind man that he was, was prone to hiding away whenever this date found its place before them once more. It was a deep worry there, for she knew the man to be sensitive and longing deeply for his lost brother, for the kinship the two shared, that bond never broken by cruel words from their father or months apart during battles. And she feared there was more that weighed upon her husband's mind than simply this, each year made him older beyond his years it did seem, she was watching him fade away as though his own cage had been constructed long ago and just now was the door being set into place. For all her wisdom in battle, her courage, her strength, this was one wound she could not heal and it bred agony in her soul.
She knew he would seek council with the King, their friendship ran deep, and if any man could offer hope it would be him. She respected Aragorn for this much, for taking up the role he had not wished to, to take up the battle even if he felt doubt in himself. She was the opposite, she was ready to fight, no simple life for her, she was made for greater things. And yet, that was not true, for now she whiled away within stone walls while the world changed all around, perhaps her cage had been constructed of more subtle stone than she had expected. It was such a weary thought that she sought a distraction, her feet carrying her with mind of their own away down the hallways into one of the rooms that few ventured into, but her pace held no hesitation in step. A greater refuge one could not hope for than a place of memory. And this was the purpose of the room, to hold away important things in safe keeping. This was the reason she sought it, memory was often better than doubt.
The trouble was, she was not one to fall into doubt with ease, stronger by far than that, the strongest in that aspect. But as she walked slowly amid the shelves and boxes, each holding some object of the past kept safe for those yet to be to learn and discover with wide eyes, she had to wonder. How had her dreams fallen away? How had she come to this, a life of bored comfort. Peace was a joy, to be certain, but a bittersweet one. And all the blood that once ran over the fields had washed way long past, still left to seep in her thoughts however. Would it haunt her forever more, or fade as well, as surely as those things all around had begun to do? Even she could not guess, nor did she wish to, leave such games to those better versed in them, her husband, or the King, even the few Elves that still wandered this place. For now all she wished was to lose herself in this place, and each object held a new meaning as her gaze fell over it.
Paled armor, grown dull from lack of use, mocked her in hues of dusty grays, the refection upon the surface distorted. And she could not tear her eyes from it, it captured her soul in an instant and pulled her back to lofty dreams she once knew, when last that battlement gleamed in ebon, black as midnight and silver as blazing as cold fire. It was gone though, the luster stripped away, and she felt just as tarnished.
"It is but a little thing, only a few years rest, there still lies the strength, only now under the surface." The voice was quiet, tones of perfect beauty to match the form, eyes of starlight and skin of milky snow, and Eowyn knew the being as friend and confidant as well as bride to the King. Though for a moment she wondered if the maiden spoke of the armor or of her. She turned her gaze towards Arwen, never failing to be caught by the grace in her form, as though crafted from ivory stone and glittering sea-glass with raven's silk to flow like a waterfall down elegant shoulders. It made the woman feel foolish and plain, but the thought was pushed aside as she turned back to the object, speaking of it as well as herself.
"Too worn out for battle, too past the time of use, now it only fades, put away and forgotten, and for the best as well, it was not made for times of peace."
"But there is still worth, even now, for it is steady and forever waiting to take up the old ways without fail. Steady and true, even now, and one could not ask for more."
Arwen smiled softly, the expression one of deep reassurance as she regarded the other woman. She too had spent the day in wandering, mourning Boromir in her silent ways, leavening her husband to do as he wished. And no doubt he sought out his loyal Steward. They were two similar in mind at times, it seemed to her, and often she had wondered how deep their friendship ran. But, she troubled not over it, there were many who could hold part of one's soul, and may different ways of caring deeply and truly, she herself knew this well. Now though, her thoughts rested upon Eowyn, the brave woman who had taken up so much in an instant, there was much to be respected in this, and she deserved that respect. But, so much was changing away and little had passed within these walls, no wonder the woman had grown restless.
Slender hands, dove white and like glittering porcelain, lifted to draw away the veiled hood pulled up during the short walk across the rainy path from one hallway to the next. The motion was slow, careful, as though that fabric of delicate pink would break apart under any touch. Her almond shaped eyes rested then upon Eowyn.
"There is much still to be done, and I cannot say if this worn armor will ever hold the same purpose, but it gleams just as beautiful still, if taken under the care of the right touch."
She stepped over to draw her palm across the tattered shield, moving away the dust to reveal the metal underneath.
"It is only caged away, waiting to be set free once more, waiting for the moment to take flight."
The words were so comforting that Eowyn felt her gaze draw away from the object, the image seemed drawn from her own mind, as though Arwen had read her thoughts over being caged away here. She looked then to the maiden she knew as friend and found a smile as radiant as the sun that had hidden from sight outside, starlight flickers of grace in those eyes. And as she stood there the shield was forgotten, though not the lesson, new paths may yet await even an old memory. And somehow, looking upon the creature before her a new light came over her soul at the understanding they shared, and it felt as though the door to that cage had suddenly been lifted away.