A/N: Here is Chapter 2 of 'Hope in Minas Tirith'. I hope you all liked the full first chapter, which replaced the poll. If you haven't yet read it, turn back now and do so. To all those who voted for the second one because the change was so big, your answers are in this chapter. How did Éowyn come to be wounded? Why did she come to Minas Tirith? Will she forgive Aragorn? Will she survive? So read on, dear friends, and review, review, review!
Disclaimer: People, places and things are Tolkien's and not mine, but now I can claim credit for the story. It's all mine!
Chapter 2: Memories
Éowyn slowly opened her eyes, blinking and trying to get the room in focus. Where was she? What had happened? She gazed around at the room. It looked as if she had been taken to the Houses of Healing. There was a dim light shining through the window beside her bed. It was very early morning. The sun had not quite risen yet. Éowyn then caught sight of Aragorn. He was asleep in a chair beside her. What was he doing here? Her expression became colder as she stared at him. She had not wanted to come back here. She did not want to face him. There was a bitterness that still remained in her heart. She was angry. Angry with him. He had caused her so much pain and grief that she had been forced to leave the city. She vowed to return, but did not have any intention of doing so very soon. Her mind was still a blur, and unclear. Éowyn closed her eyes; the memories flooding back to her. After more than a year of travelling, Éowyn made a final visit to Edoras, her home, to see her brother Éomer, whom she had not seen for more than a year. Their reunion had been a happy one, and Éowyn had met his bride-to-be, Lothíriel, daughter of Imrahil. She had stayed for a few weeks before riding eastward with Éomer to their childhood home. There, Éomer had left her and returned to Edoras, at her request, for she wished to ride across Rohan as she had done when she was a girl. Éowyn promised to return there after a few days. But circumstances had changed.Flashback
At the edge of the Firien Wood, on the border between Gondor and Rohan, Éowyn stopped. Something was here. She could sense it. She dismounted and proceeded into the dark woods with great caution, her hand holding the hilt of her sword. Silently, she edged further into the forest, her eyes scanning the forest around her. The leaves rustled in the trees above her as a wind blew overhead. The daylight was falling fast and the forest was falling further into shadow.
She had gone a fair way into the forest by now, becoming more and more wary as she went on. She should not have wandered so far in. She had lost sight of Windfola now. A cold shiver ran up her spine. It was growing darker every minute, until it was hard to see what lay hidden in the trees. A branch snapped on the ground behind her; she swung around to see what it was. Nothing. Her eyes pierced through the shadows, searching for the intruder. A rustle of leaves on the ground caused her to stop dead. Footsteps; very silent, but footsteps they were.
Éowyn quickly darted, without a sound, behind the thick trunk of a nearby tree. She grasped the hilt of her sword tighter, slowly drawing it from the scabbard so as not to make a noise. Éowyn's eyes flicked right and left, trying to catch a glimpse of her foe. Her sword was drawn. Éowyn held it vertically before her. She was ready. With one swift movement, she swung her sword out from behind the tree. The sound of metal clashing could be heard. The two swords had met mid air. Éowyn turned to see her assailant's face.
He wore long black robes, partially torn; his face twisted and pallid. He stared at her through his beady black eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What brings the Lady of Rohan into the dark woods of Firien?" he asked, almost hissing.
"Gríma," said Éowyn, her eyes full of hatred and loathing.
She pushed him against the opposite tree to the one she had been hiding behind, her sword against his, both at his throat.
"I should have killed you long ago," she spat.
"But you did not," he finished, smirking. "You could not."
He forced his sword against hers, breaking free of both. Éowyn stumbled backwards. Gríma caught her under the chin with his sword, but Éowyn knocked it out of the way and scrambled to her feet. She slashed at his arm, cutting though the robes to his skin.
"You will pay for that," he said, glaring at her.
Gríma lunged at her, swinging his sword wildly in an attempt to strike her. Éowyn blocked his attack, their swords connecting again. Gríma thrust his sword at Éowyn, forcing her to duck behind a tree to avoid the attack. When she came out, he was nowhere to be seen. Éowyn held her sword ready. This was a plot to catch her off guard. She walked slowly, looking in all directions for Gríma.
Suddenly, Éowyn felt cold steel pressed hard against her skin, the blade at her throat. Éowyn could see the spindly fingers clutching the sword hilt.
"Drop your sword," said Gríma, icily.
Éowyn scowled, gripping it tighter. Gríma pressed the blade closer to her throat and forced her head upward.
"Drop it," he ordered.
Éowyn obliged him. The sword clattered to the ground. Gríma slowly bent down to pick it up, his sword still in place. Éowyn raised her foot, bringing it down hard on Gríma's hand, cutting it on her sword. He howled in pain and anger and slashed with his sword, wounding her arm badly.
Éowyn held it tightly as she fumbled on the ground for her sword. Gríma had risen to his feet and was advancing on her as she crawled to her weapon. Éowyn made one clean movement and knocked Gríma's sword from his hand and bringing him down to the ground. Picking up his sword as well, she rose, holding one against throat, the other pointed at his heart. Blood trickled from her arm and pain shot through it.
"You will die tonight," she snarled. "You will die for what you have done, to my family, to my home, and to me."
"I think not," said Gríma. He spat in her face.
In the split second that Éowyn turned her face away from him, Gríma drew a long dagger from inside his robes and plunged it deep into her side, giving it a sharp twist and slicing through her flesh. Éowyn let out a cry of pain, fighting back the tears in her eyes. She would not close them. She would not take her eyes of him. She would not let him escape again unpunished.
Éowyn gathered all strength left in her body and thrust her sword into Gríma's heart. He coughed and choked and she drove it through his chest. He fell to the ground, gasping and writhing in pain. Éowyn watched him, a coldness in her eyes, but pity there was too.
Here, before her, was the man who had caused the deaths of many people. Here was the man who had betrayed her king and kingdom to the wizard, Saruman. Here was the man who had brought her cousin, Théodred, to death and caused her so much grief, anguish and torment.
But here also was a man.
A man who had once been human.
A man who had once been loved.
Did he deserve this?
Did anyone deserve this?
She stared at him, lying there. He had stopped twisting, and now lay still, coughing slightly. Blood trickled down his face from his mouth. His eyes were wide open, gazing at her, unblinking.
He was dead.
"Farewell, Gríma, son of Gálmód," she said quietly.
Slowly, Éowyn moved away, grasping her side as pain shot through it once more. She walked through the forest, looking for a way out. Eventually, she came to the other edge of the Firien Wood. Windfola had passed around the outside of the forest and was waiting there for her as she emerged. She mounted him, bending over slightly to ease the pain in her side. The blood had soaked through her robes.
She needed to find help, and she needed to find it quickly. But there was nowhere less than three days ride from where they were. They were far from Edoras. She would have to ride to Minas Tirith, the last place she wished to go. But the Houses of Healing would be the only place she could find help. Reluctantly, she turned Windfola east down the Great Road.
"Take me to Minas Tirith," she whispered, closing her eyes and cringing at the pain. "Take me to the King."
Windfola set off at top speed, racing down the road to Minas Tirith and the Houses of Healing. They had to hurry. Éowyn was not sure how long she could last. The pain shot through her body again.
End Flashback
And now, here she lay in the Houses of Healing she assumed. She placed her hand on the wound on her side and flinched. The pain was still there, as grave as ever. She touched a hand to her arm, tracing the cut from Gríma's sword. Why did she come here? She had not been ready to return yet. She wanted to leave.
Éowyn gradually lifted herself up, leaning on her hands. Her wounded arm trembled. She pulled back the bedcovers and placed her feet on the cold stone floor. She shivered slightly as she stood up. She glanced down at the clothes she was wearing. She was still dressed in the robes she had arrived in, her cream chemise and brown vest. The bloodstain on the side of her dress was dry, and a bandage had been wrapped around the wound.
Éowyn walked silently over to a table, on which lay her sword. Picking it up, she made her way towards the door and opened it, silently creeping out, still watching Aragorn in case he woke, and closed the door behind her. Turning around, Éowyn walked along the corridor.
She realised soon that it was not the Houses of Healing to which they had taken her. She was still in the High Court of Minas Tirith. She wandered along the corridors, trying to find the way to the main hall. She came to a large door and the end of one hallway. It opened to the main hall.
There, standing in the centre, were Legolas and Gimli.
A/N: Ooooooooooh, what will happen next? (Why am I asking that, I'm writing this story.) Guess. What's Éowyn going to do, and why is she running? (I know those answers too.)
Thanks to my reviewers:
Rosa Cotton – faithful as ever to my stories. I hope you liked this chapter and it didn't disappoint.
eowyn the fair – thanks, but sorry I didn't use your suggestion. I already had this planned out. If it had been the other one, what I was planning to do would have come close.
lelegurl9 – always nice to see new reviewers. I'm glad you're a fan of the A/É pairing. Check out my favourites list for some other really good stories to read.
LastTrueBard – aww, thanks. I'm glad you liked the first one. It will always be my favourite. I'm in the process of updating the Elvish and reviewing the story a bit, to fix things up.
Necole – commendations on reading the whole of 'Hope in the Darkness' in one go. I wrote the thing and haven't succeeded in doing that (probably for that reason). Sorry about not putting up No. 2, but I have good news. There will be a few ficlets posted later to give you an idea of what I had in mind to do for it.
Salysha – I THOUGH YOU HAD FINISHED THE FIRST ONE!!! You'll miss out on some of my best writing otherwise, and some really cool lines. For those who haven't read or don't want to read the first story (I know it's long) there will be parts in the sequel, either flashbacks or memories of some description, that refer back to events, conversations, etc. that occurred in the first. I still have to fill out an entire year of what happened after she left.
I hope you all enjoyed that chapter, and understand what happened with Éowyn (if you didn't, you'd better get some help). In the next instalment, what will Éowyn do? Will she find a way out of the court without being seen? Will Aragorn be able to stop her, or will someone else?
See you all later,
Lisa