Attack of the Plot Bunnies Chapter Twelve
Timeline: 10 March 3019 Chapter: 5.III
Credit where Credit is due: previously posted in my lj and as chapter 2 of AotPB on ff.n
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien (except for the bits that belong to Peter Jackson and the rest of the people who made the movies.) I'm just playing with the toys.
Author: rabidsamfan
Title: Elfhelm
How could he say her no?
How could he deny her, she whom he had loved since first she smiled at him, her small wet fingers clinging triumphantly at his knees? Bold already, and strong, her small teeth bright as snow on autumn leaves.
How could he refuse, when he had seen her eyes shining in the firelight, her back straight and proud even when the songs went on into the night? Her dreams had kept her awake and listening, a small figure still on watch for glory while the other children slumped into tangled piles and slept among the rushes.
How could he tell her she could not, after he had guided her first steps in the sword dance, and called the cadence as she patiently attacked the practice-worn pells? For the first month alone, the boys had outpaced her, until her small arms hardened and her shoulders broadened under the weight of mail.
How could he order her back, after he had watched her stand aside for love's sake and then wither from the lack of light? Her golden hair had dimmed in the shadows, her face had grown cold and still despite the fire piled high for an invalid King, but she had stayed, wasting her strength in battle against a foe she had not been taught to fight.
How could he claim she was unneeded, when every spear might mean the difference between dawn and endless darkness? There were others, women and old men, who could order a siege, and lead the straggling survivors into the dark of mountains and forests in hopes of a few years of maimed life, but few who had survived the battle at Helm's Deep with the strength to ride anew.
How could he reject her sacrifice, and yet ask it of others -- third and fourth sons made heirs of their family's honor in a single night -- striplings whose voices cracked as they gave their oaths to follow their King to the end of despair? It was impossible. No matter what greater lords than he had said, or thought, or done. They did not love her as he did.
The breath of the mountain was cold. She waited for his answer, still as the pukelman that shadowed her, and it was he who shivered for the sake of her despair. She was so young! But the frost was on her now, and to warm her was to make her shatter, like a cold pot set too near the hearth in winter. She was waiting.
He could not say her no.
"Yes," he said, and took her hand and kissed it, for he would never have the chance again. "Yes, Eowyn. You may ride with us."
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