I'm so in love with you guys! My reviews have risen by 15 in the last two chapters alone! That almost more than I got the first five chapters combined! Keep 'em coming, PLEASE! ^_^
Some of you mentioned interest in a Star Wars story, well, it's up and running (I'm pretty sure). The title is Star-crossed Skies, and it has some Obidala moments, but it's mostly a Luke and Mara story. I had a request for an Obi/Sabé story, and I have an awesome idea for a short story involving the two. But anyways, check out my new story and please review!
Also, I finally figured out how to upload in HTML! WOOHOO GO ME! Anyways, I can now use italics (ooh boy!), so you can see my characters thoughts! Yay! So anyways, read and review, you know the drill!
~Moonlit Tears
Italics are memories.
Bold is thoughts.
--
Eowyn returned to her tent much later that night, after spending her time curled up where she and Legolas had lain earlier that night. The tears had dried on her face, and she moved in a daze, not sure what to do. As she sat on the ground, in the center of her small tent, her shaking hands wandered towards the armor and sword that lay untouched on her bed.
She took the sword into her grasp, and carefully removed it from the case. Eowyn held it up to the light of the flickering candles, watching the reflection of the flames dance on the intricately carved metal. The memories of recent times crashed over Eowyn like an unleashed flood.
She was running on the plains, surrounded by nature at its most wild and fearsome. Her companion was an Elf of incredible power and compassion. Against her will, she had grown fond of him. Perhaps too fond…
But that was of no consequence. Alone but for one other and the creatures of the plains, Eowyn was happy. She was running with a purpose, for the weight of the future could rest on her shoulders. She was of importance. She would be able to prove herself.
For the first time in her troubled life, Eowyn was truly alive and happy.
Eowyn leapt to her feet agilely, her stance cool and confidant. She took the armor from her bed, and slowly put it over her shoulders. It was cold against her pale skin, but Eowyn did not notice this. She took the sword and lunged towards an invisible foe, imagining she was in the thick of the battle.
Her soul cried out with joy and passion as she executed the fighting styles that she had so meticulously learned. Eowyn attacked the opponent in her mind with the ferocity of the greatest warriors. If anyone were to have seen her, they would have seen a powerful warrior, not a woman whose heart was broken. To all, she looked the very essence of good.
Finally, Eowyn collapsed on the ground with exhaustion, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath. As she leaned back against her bed, Eowyn felt the aching in her head start to flood over her again. She needed another distraction. She needed to be kept busy.
I shall ride out with my Uncle tomorrow, whether he lets me or not, Eowyn thought defiantly, jutting her chin out in independence. I shall fight the common enemy that we all face.
As Eowyn lay there, her blonde hair fanned out behind her, and her chest sagging in labored breathing, the tears began to flow again. A whisper of wind blew through the open door of her tent, lifting Eowyn's hair into a vertical crown around her, and blowing the tears off her face. It seemed to be a comforting reminder that someone was always there with her.
Eowyn let the grief take her over, because she knew that if she did not let the tears flow now, it would only be worse when she finally began to cry.
Oh my dear Legolas, Eowyn cried out in her anguished thoughts, I apologize for my harsh words. Please, my prince, come back to me safely…
Her melancholy spirits took over as Eowyn drifted into a restless and troubled sleep.
--
Legolas was vaguely aware that he was explaining the legend of the men of the mountain to Gimli, though he could not quite connect with that part of himself. It was as if his spirit had divided into two halves, one that could still function and live, and another that was caught in the middle of a tempest of grief and pain.
Aragorn led the way, with his calm and brooding confidence. He was deep in thought, as always, and part of Legolas (he wasn't sure which part) briefly wondered what Lord Elrond could have said to him earlier. But the thought did not last long, as Legolas was too tormented to dwell on such issues.
It was quite strange how he could still function without actually putting any effort into his life. Legolas thought about his own mortality and the worth of his life as he rode on, half-listening to what Gimli was saying to him.
A cold shadow passed over Legolas, and he snapped out of his trance-like state. The light of the mountain had faded, and he saw that they were in a quite different area than they had been in before. The sun does not shine here, mused Legolas, I can only wonder if that is good or bad for my soul.
Aragorn had dismounted from his horse with an ease that came of his years living with the elves and riding as a Ranger. Gimli had gotten off with considerably less grace, basically falling onto the ground with his heavy ax. Legolas snorted a bit under his breath at the plight of his dwarf friend.
"This is it," said Aragorn quietly, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword.
Legolas glanced at the doorway, where writing was etched into the stone. His curiosity got the better of him, and he took an involuntary step towards the door. Inside was a dark cavern, where he could see nothing. A strange wind blew, carrying voices that were indistinguishable.
"The door was made by the dead," Legolas said pensively, "And the dead keep it."
A moment of silence descended over the small group as they realized the weight of his words. Aragorn seemed to square his shoulders, his hand tightening on his sword. "I do not fear death," he said fiercely, heading into the dark of the cave without one glance back.
Legolas looked from the door to where Gimli stood, his discomfort quite obvious. Taking a deep breath, Legolas firmed his jaw, and thought to himself, I have no reason to fear a death. I should welcome it, in fact.
Without one glance back, Legolas charged into the dark of the mountain after Aragorn, leaving Gimli alone outside.
--
Eowyn had spoken to her uncle earlier that morning. Although he did not know what was exactly wrong with her, he sensed that it had something to do with Lord Aragorn and his friends. He did not question Eowyn's plight, however, he merely left her alone with her tears and the orders to defend Edoras no matter what the cost.
She snuck back to her tent, pulling back the flap to gaze at her armor, ready on her bed. Early that morning, before the dawn rose, she had sharpened her blade, making it quite sharp for what would come now.
Eowyn pulled her easily recognizable blonde hair back off her neck, winding it up at the nape of her neck. She pulled her suit of armor over her chest, and put on her thick riding boots. Under her belt she stuck a small dagger, and strapped her sharp blade to the belt itself. Grabbing a shield from the side of the tent, Eowyn prepared to go find her horse. She would be joining her uncle on the battlefield.
She ran to where the horses were kept, and quickly found her white stallion. She jumped on the horse, as it was already saddled. Eowyn turned her stallion towards the rest of the warriors, where they were galloping off to battle. She urged the horse forward and faster.
Out of the corner of her eye, Eowyn saw young Merry, a hobbit who had journeyed with Legolas and Aragorn, standing by a small pony, looking quite distraught. He was adorned in the miniature armor she herself had found for him, and holding a small sword. By the looks of it, he had been denied permission to come.
Before she even had time to think the matter over, Eowyn found herself riding up to the small hobbit and hoisting him onto her saddle. The cry of surprise drowned in his throat as her grip tightened around him.
"Ride with me," she whispered in Merry's ear.
Though she could not see the front of his face, Eowyn was sure that Merry's eyes widened. "Yes, m'lady," he said, the respect and surprise evident in his voice.
What a pair we make, thought Eowyn with a dark amusement, two that are denied the right to fight for what we'd like. Without warning, a rush of fear swallowed her. May the heavens watch over us.
--
Short, I know. I'm having a problem writing lengthy chapters. Anyways, expect an update soon. Check out my other stories too. And review, as always!