What do you fear?
A cage...
And a cage it was indeed, a cage that seemed to hold nothing but fear and grief.
How does a laughter taste?
Eowyn did not know, but she did not care either. Such things were long beyond her grasp.
Grey were the days, even if there was a sun, burning ferociously in the sky as if to laugh at the toils of men and at the fears of Gondor. Grey were the days, even if there was the sky, so brilliantly blue, blue like cold steel.
Everything was ashes to her, and sugar tasted like poison.
He was gone. The hand that had drawn her back had left the city, gone on a quest already lost before he even set foot out of Minas Tirith.
And my heart and spirit goes with you...
It felt like hoofbeats in her blood, the desire to run, the desire to fight, an urging, that could barely be kept at bay. The day seemed like an endless sea of meaningless breaths, a cage, with golden bars, but yet a cage, to keep her from flying to her doom.
The pounding was hard to bear. Denying the wishes of her deepest heart was not easily to be taken. He was gone, and so was her brother, facing equal death before the Black Gate..
And what of Eowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan?
She stayed behind, useless. Great deeds she hat wanted to fulfill and great deeds indeed lay behind her, but only now, that the witch king lay slain and every mouth in this city told the story of the wild daughter of Rohan she realized it had not been quite what she yearned for.
For still, pain was there, as strong and overwhelming as before, if not even more.
Her eyes strayed to the window watching the northern plains, knowing that somewhere, behind hill and stone, there stood the golden hall Meduseld, all but deserted for now. The king long dead, the prince gone to face his and their destruction. And the Lady...?
Empty...
Do not cry for your Lords, Rohan, do not cry
For darkness will come and take us all