Okay, peeps. In hindsight I can see the flaws in this story, so I'm revamping it. I'll put a note in the summary to show when a chap's been changed and another big one when the whole thing's ready for a proper continuation.

---- Minas Tirith ----

The men who had denounced Éowyn in the street were not alone in their thought. When Éowyn was seen on the walls, poring over scrolls with the wind in her hair, many shook their heads and said, "She knows no more lore than a child."

Éowyn was defended from their criticisms by the walls of the Citadel, from which she vowed she would stray so often. She was not totally unaware of the unease at the city, but she was not aware of its extent.

"I shall read this scroll," said Dior that morning, "for it is written in the Valinórean, beyond the skill of most."

"I understand," nodded Éowyn. Dior was uncomfortable with this section of history: he had dreaded teaching it since he first accepted Éowyn as a charge. The Kin-strife.

King Rómendacil II made alliance with the Northmen of the vales of Anduin, sending his heir Valacar to the court of their king. Rómendacil wished his son to learn something of the customs of the Northmen and strengthen the bond between their peoples. While in the courts of the Northmen, Valacar took to wife their princess, Vidumavi.

A son she bore him: Eldacar, who was called Vinitharya among his mother's people, with whom he grew up. There were many who opposed the union of Valacar and Vidumavi, fearing that the pure Númenorean blood of the royal house would be sullied and its span of years decreased. Indeed, Vidumavi was dead ere Valacar took the throne. Valacar died in year 1432 of the Third Age of Middle-earth.

When Eldacar had reigned but five years, Castamir (who was thereafter called The Usurper), a descendant of King Calmacil and Captain of the Ships of Gondor, overthrew him and took the Kingship for himself. In the devastation of the revolution, Osgiliath was burned and its great Palantír lost in the Anduin.

Within ten years, Eldacar had raised a vast army in the north and marched on Castamir. At the Crossings of Erui, Castamir was defeated and Eldacar restored to the throne.

Éowyn's fair countenance was troubled. "There was civil war, because the king did not marry into Númenorean blood?" She spoke faintly, as though talking to herself.

"Yes," replied Dior, as casually as he could.

"Will-" she hesitated, then dropped her noble air and spoke earnestly. "Will that happen if I become queen?"

Dior did not know how to answer, but decided that the truth was the best option. "It is possible," he said diplomatically. "There are some who question your fitness to be queen. Who question the suitability of a warrior queen. It is unlikely, but possible."

"And what do you think?"

"I'll admit that I doubted you at first – a girl you seemed by the king's side – but my faith grows with every passing lesson."

"Thank you, Dior," said Éowyn. Another worry for her. She thought of Aragorn. The people had faith in him. Perhaps when they realised Aragorn believed in her, they would follow suit.

"My lady!" A breathless messenger burst into the study. "There has been an accident."

Éowyn rose from her seat, fear in her face. "What has happened?"

"The wall - a section has collapsed. The men are trapped."

"How many?" asked Éowyn. Her voiced trembled.

"Twenty, ma'am. There is no chance of rescue, without killing them."

It was her fault. All her fault.