A/N: No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. But my hands have
finally healed (for the most part). So, hence this monster chapter as a
reward for my patient reviewers.
Third month,4th day
I am exhausted, sufficient to say that I did have a chance to fight despite Aragorn's restrictions. It was a victory-but only just. My brother and Gandalf saved the day. Without them we would all have surely died. So now, we rest before moving on to muster Rohan's riders again for the battle that is surely coming to Minas Tirith. I for one will take part in that battle no matter what anyone says. As usual, nobody seems to realize I killed a good many orcs and nearly single-handedly held off the advance of orcs. I told Aragorn, hoping he would redeem himself, you know what he said? "Oh, very nice milady. Now, Eomer what were you saying about your horse?" Eomer, looked at me as if in pity. He understands somewhat where I am coming from, but he does not wish me to fight either. Why must I be cursed in the company of those who at best cannot understand me, and at worst look down on me for being a woman who wishes to do the work of a man? We leave the Hornburg this afternoon.
Third month, 5th day
Riding to Edoras. All is more depressing than yesterday. Nothing to write.
Later.......
Returned to Edoras tonight. Only to find that the muster was already begun by Gandalf as he passed through to get Eomer. My uncle and brother just received a visitor from Gondor bearing an urgent message, perhaps they will call me in, perhaps they shall not.
Even later......
They did eventually call me in towards the end, the messenger bore the red arrow. Such a token has been feared in the Mark for time uncountable. For this means Gondor is in severe trouble, and needs the most aide we can give them. Never in my days-or anyone's in Rohan for that matter has such a time existed. The arrow has not come to the Mark in years uncounted. Nevertheless, we shall answer with all the strength we can spare from our borders. We shall come to Gondor's aide and stand beside them in what looks to be the last battle for our freedom on Middle Earth..
Third month 11th day
We leave this afternoon when the last of the muster is completed. A darkness has overcome the world-no doubt a foul scheme of the Evil Lord's to dampen our spirits. It is not working. For we Rohirrim are strong, noble and brave. We shall stand even under the wings of the witch king and his steed. Nothing shall stop us for destiny has determined we shall fight on the fields of Pellennor and make our last defense in the streets of Minas Tirith, to hew away at the Dark Lord while we yet stand or even kneel. We shall fight while there remains Rohirric blood in our veins. For this is our destiny, our fate....
Later.......
I have been forbidden to fight. AGAIN. My brother came just before the muster to try to console me.
"Éowyn, everyone appreciates your bravery and willingness to help. Yet as our Uncle has said someone must stay to guide Rohan while he and I are away."
"Yes. For I shall always be left behind brother. Nobody cares how the Princess of the Mark dies, as long as they themselves die nobly on the fields of Pelennor. Do you not understand brother I wish to die as nobly as you? That I wish to die in those fields with you? You are the closest flesh and blood of mine surviving. I do not wish to survive while you do not. I only ask to die when you do, how you do, and where you do. Is that too much to ask?"
"My sister I do not wish to lose you. For if you were to die on those fields, and perchance I did not think how bitterly I should blame myself for letting you come. At least if you remain, there is still a chance I might survive to see you again."
"And if you do not?"
"Someone must rule this nation, and you would be the nearest blood link. You would rule if we win, and I perish"
"But I do not wish to live if my only remaining family is dead. My uncle is my uncle yes, but he is not my brother."
"Yet live you must if not for yourself, for Rohan whom you hold so dear. Éowyn please do as the King asks."
"He asked Eomer, and did not command, yet I shall decide my course of action on what seems best for me and this nation. If that is any comfort to you my brother."
"Very little sister, for I know you well, and once you set your mind you do not change it. I shall leave now, for I must."
"Goodbye my brother and may the Valar be with you, may the blessings and strengths of our forefathers and our house be with you."
"And with you my sister. I hope that we shall see each other again."
"We shall Eomer, whether here or in another happier place."
He and I tearfully embraced and I bade him farewell. Once he left I immediately left my tent and gathered the armor I had prepared for myself. I flung it on and hurried to get my horse. As I was about to ride to a company I had chosen, I saw that the young Halfling who accompanied us was desolate as he was also being left behind. I bade him get his armor and ride with me. "For such good will should not be denied." I told him to call me "Dernhelm," as he did not seem to know my real name. Now we have stopped for the night. Merry (the Halfling) and I have camped slightly apart from the rest so as not to be discovered. For I will not be sent home like a child. Or as Merry so fittingly put it, "baggage to be picked up only when wanted." He and I understand each other though he knows it not.
Third month, 12th day
We camp at Minrimmon. Nothing much interesting. One can rarely catch glimpses of my brother or uncle, I suppose that is well, considering they should quickly recognize me. We have about four to five days until we reach Minas Tirith. I hear rumors from the amongst the men that the errand-rider of Gondor that Minas Tirith may fall before we even get there. For some bizarre reason I feel the urge to get there as quickly as possible. I get the feeling that for once I am needed. Somehow, I know, Minas Tirith is already under attack. Do not ask how. I just know. We must hurry.
Third month, 13th day
We are making progress, and have reached the Druadan Forest, where the Wild- men live. But, I am not worried about them, but about the city. Some evil is threatening to swallow it, and I feel we shall be too late to stop it. I know not what is come over me, I see Minas Tirith besieged in my dreams, even though I have never been there. The first circle of seven is about to fall and fire is burning unchecked throughout it. Can we ride no faster?
Third month, 14th day
We are a day's journey from the White City, and have just reached the Grey- Wood. Unbelievably, the Wild-men helped us find a hidden path to come to the White City's succor. Even now one can already hear the sounds of battle raging round it. You can see the smoke rising, and the shrill cries of the Nazgul. I have a sickening feeling we shall not be there in time.
Third month, 15th day
We have just arrived, no time to write. This place is a mess, everything is burning. So majestic a city too, it is sad. Yet we shall fight to the last to defend her and the free peoples of Middle Earth. We are lucky we got here at all, the wild men guided us here, now we can hopefully break the siege, if only for a brief moment. I shall be understood bys someone years from now, even if I must die to make my point. ROHIRRIM FOR THE GREEN BANNER AND THE WHITE CITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!! CHARGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !
Third month, 16th day
I am told I am lucky to be alive at all. Though, with my raging headache, melancholic depression, broken arm, and a nearly useless sword-arm I certainly don't feel it. Yes, I got the fight I wanted. Yet my heart is deeply grieved. I must tell you the whole story, so I shall.
Before Théoden King could give us any real orders, his horse, Snowmane somehow was spooked at charged forward like a wild thing. His house guards tried desperately to keep up with him, and my brother was forced to lead our people, yet soon we were noticed and the battle became so very confusing at that point. I had but one thought, to save my King from whatever danger her might encounter. I slew a few orcs in search of him, and finally I found him. His horse was wounded and had obviously thrown him. To my absolute horror I found that one of those foul Nazgul was about to devour him. I charged to his rescue, as he himself seemed to be wounded. Yet, my horse also grew spooked, and I had to dismount quickly. I do not know what became of Merry who had been riding with me, until later. I challenged the fearful witch king, and he laughed at me telling me no man could slay him. I contested I was a woman, and that he stood between me and my lord and kin, and threatened to slay him again. Then, I remember little, except that he smashed my shield to bits, and that Merry stabbed him in the behind the knee, giving me the opening to give him a blow where his head should have been. He gave a shrill cry, and died. Then everything went black, I remember no more. I do not know how much time passed before I heard my name called from a deep wood. I was resting after my exhausting battle, at first it seemed to be Lord Aragorn who was calling me, but when I awoke in some sort of healing place, it was my dear brother who called, and sat beside me holding my hand. I was so glad to see his familiar face, yet also sad for I had sought recognition through death in battle, and it seems I have gained neither...
Third month, 17th day
My brother was trying his best not to overexcite me, yet he could hardly keep from scolding me. Saying:
"If only you knew what despair pierced my heart when I saw you lying there as if you were dead. Did I not tell you Éowyn not to ride to battle?" Yes, that is the way my brother Eomer speaks jumping from one topic to the next with hardly a wait for a breath. I asked him for the outcome of the battle, which he was reluctant at first to give me, but I pressed him. His news was good, yet most grievous; we have paid dearly for our narrow victory. My Uncle Théoden King son of Thengel fell in battle; Rohan has lost its king. Before he died my uncle said to say goodbye to me and to have hope in a brighter future. His last words have made my brother King. My brother King of Rohan. My brother whom I chased down the halls of Meduseld, my brother with whom I had snowball and mud ball fights. My brother is King.
Shock seems to be my constant companion these days, I have just gotten word that my brother, Mithrandir, Lord Aragorn, and our other leaders are riding to the Black Gate of Mordor as I write. Why they do this I do not know, it is suicide. I am determined to go with them...
Third month, 18th day
I arose early this morning, and demanded clothing of the attending women, and got out of bed. Needless to say it was very painful, and the ladies were going into conniption fits about how I was not supposed to be out of bed for at least a week. I ignored them; I don't suppose they really knew what they were talking about anyway. They're only serving women. I demanded to speak to the healer. I was allowed to, but only after a great deal of trouble. It seems these mindless Gondorian women do not like what I did on the fields of Pellannor. Rather, they fear me, and do not believe I am a woman just like them.
Anyway, enough on them, they are a boring topic anywise. I asked the healer who was in charge of the city at present. I was told the Lord Faramir was. I had heard little of this man as he was only the second son of the Lord Denethor who died during the siege. All I know is from his brother who visited our country not so long ago wanting to borrow a horse. Boromir (the elder son of Denethor), spoke little to me. But what I heard of his brother was nothing but good. Although Boromir could not understand his brother's all-consuming love for learning and books. He once said, "..if my brother spent the same amount of time studying with his sword as he did with his books he should be a better warrior than I.." So this learned man, also a warrior of great renown I hear amongst his own people, was the man I was going to see to beg to go to the Black Gate and fight.
He had his back to me when I arrived, he was strolling in the gardens, and something weighed heavily on him. I heard he too was severely wounded in defense of his city, and was near death before they could get him medical attention. Anyway, he immediately tensed the moment my foot stepped into the garden. (I am a warrior too, I know such things.) HE HADN'T EVEN TURNED AROUND FOR CRYING OUT LOUD AND HE ALREADY KNEW I WAS THERE! It is rumored that some of Numenor have Elvish blood in them, it is obvious that this Faramir is one.
The warden announced me and withdrew after Faramir dismissed him. By this point he had turned around. I was greeted by a man who was much like his brother and mine, yet much like the Lord Aragorn, and even Mithrandir. Old, yet young much like the elves. His eyes seemed to read my purpose before I even opened my mouth. My carefully practiced speech flew from my mind as I tried to battle his intense gaze. I eventually gave up, he was too strong, and I mumbled something about wanting to go to the Black Gate. To which he wisely replied that he was also still healing, and under the warden's care. Not to mention, he said, that the riders were too far off to join even if I had the strength. I mentally chastised myself for asking such a stupid question. Of course anyone knew that. Why didn't I? Here he was, a Gondorian, who most likely knows far less about horses than I who have lived with them since I was born, and he knows the obvious answer to a question I should, but do not. I must have seemed like a fool. I tried desperately to redeem myself, but could only come up with another stupid question, or should I say, request.
"But my window does not even face east." I mope.
He laughs to my utter embarrassment, and says he shall fix that. Then he walked over to me, "Why do you fear me lady?" he asked.
He question caught me completely off guard; it was as if he had just read my mind
"I fear none my lord." I lie.
His face saddens. "You wish to fear none, yet you fear me. You have passed under the wings of shadow like myself, and have slain the King of Wraiths, yet you fear me. Tell me lady, is this not a paradox? For I should hope to think I am not as intimidating as the witch-king."
"My lord, I fear you because you seem to know my mind and none before you have tried to understand me. I am considered worthless and useless by all, yet you attempt to understand me as no one else has ever done."
"There my lady you are wrong. You are highly esteemed in both of our nations. The few who have tried to understand you have given up, or not bothered because you are so different from everyone. Being different is not always a bad thing. It may hurt, but I can tell you from experience, it is usually worth it. Nobody has understood why a woman would have the driving need to fight like you, and in truth I know little of you. Not as much as you think. Although I do know that you and I have much in common. I would learn more of you, and of your story that weighs so heavily upon you, and then perhaps I can then understand your desperate need to fight."
"Why would your lordship bother to learn of me and my dealings?"
"Because my lady, I have met none like you in all my traveling, and I hear you are restless in your chambers. Perhaps you shall not find me as tiresome as they."
"So I may walk abroad in the houses, and not be retained to my rooms?" I ask almost ecstatically.
"You may do as you wish in these houses as long as it is not rash or ill- counseled."
"Then I shall walk by the grace of the Steward of the City." I said curtseying as best I could, but the ground was uneven, and my legs still weak, and I slipped. Quick as a flash his arm shot out to steady me, and I noticed (brief though it be) that he winced in pain as he helped me up. I instantly felt guilty, and began to apologize profusely. He ended up telling me to be quiet, and saying that we were equals there was no need for curtseying in his presence. I was so embarrassed by this point I mumbled out my thanks and ran off before he could see the red rash that suddenly seemed to spread across my skin. I have never been so confused in my life.
In the space of five minutes this man scares me, reads my mind, surprises me and makes me absolutely lose my wits. This has never happened before. What in the world is wrong with me? This must have something to do with the after-effects of their Gondorian medicine or the Nazgul. I've heard some rumors about it even before I came here, why can't I have a Rohirric man of herb-lore tend me? At least I know their medication is safe....
Later....
My room was changed shortly after I finished speaking with the steward. I also have a window facing the gardens, not just east. I could see him walking about with Merry this evening; they were talking about what I shall not guess. I did not go out, I was still too embarrassed. He must think me a mere child. By the Valar! My face flushes in my chamber just remembering it! Perhaps they are talking of me out there. I looked out just now and Lord Faramir caught my gaze as if he were expecting it. What must he think of me? Hiding in here like a scared rabbit? I'm drawing the curtains.....
Third month,4th day
I am exhausted, sufficient to say that I did have a chance to fight despite Aragorn's restrictions. It was a victory-but only just. My brother and Gandalf saved the day. Without them we would all have surely died. So now, we rest before moving on to muster Rohan's riders again for the battle that is surely coming to Minas Tirith. I for one will take part in that battle no matter what anyone says. As usual, nobody seems to realize I killed a good many orcs and nearly single-handedly held off the advance of orcs. I told Aragorn, hoping he would redeem himself, you know what he said? "Oh, very nice milady. Now, Eomer what were you saying about your horse?" Eomer, looked at me as if in pity. He understands somewhat where I am coming from, but he does not wish me to fight either. Why must I be cursed in the company of those who at best cannot understand me, and at worst look down on me for being a woman who wishes to do the work of a man? We leave the Hornburg this afternoon.
Third month, 5th day
Riding to Edoras. All is more depressing than yesterday. Nothing to write.
Later.......
Returned to Edoras tonight. Only to find that the muster was already begun by Gandalf as he passed through to get Eomer. My uncle and brother just received a visitor from Gondor bearing an urgent message, perhaps they will call me in, perhaps they shall not.
Even later......
They did eventually call me in towards the end, the messenger bore the red arrow. Such a token has been feared in the Mark for time uncountable. For this means Gondor is in severe trouble, and needs the most aide we can give them. Never in my days-or anyone's in Rohan for that matter has such a time existed. The arrow has not come to the Mark in years uncounted. Nevertheless, we shall answer with all the strength we can spare from our borders. We shall come to Gondor's aide and stand beside them in what looks to be the last battle for our freedom on Middle Earth..
Third month 11th day
We leave this afternoon when the last of the muster is completed. A darkness has overcome the world-no doubt a foul scheme of the Evil Lord's to dampen our spirits. It is not working. For we Rohirrim are strong, noble and brave. We shall stand even under the wings of the witch king and his steed. Nothing shall stop us for destiny has determined we shall fight on the fields of Pellennor and make our last defense in the streets of Minas Tirith, to hew away at the Dark Lord while we yet stand or even kneel. We shall fight while there remains Rohirric blood in our veins. For this is our destiny, our fate....
Later.......
I have been forbidden to fight. AGAIN. My brother came just before the muster to try to console me.
"Éowyn, everyone appreciates your bravery and willingness to help. Yet as our Uncle has said someone must stay to guide Rohan while he and I are away."
"Yes. For I shall always be left behind brother. Nobody cares how the Princess of the Mark dies, as long as they themselves die nobly on the fields of Pelennor. Do you not understand brother I wish to die as nobly as you? That I wish to die in those fields with you? You are the closest flesh and blood of mine surviving. I do not wish to survive while you do not. I only ask to die when you do, how you do, and where you do. Is that too much to ask?"
"My sister I do not wish to lose you. For if you were to die on those fields, and perchance I did not think how bitterly I should blame myself for letting you come. At least if you remain, there is still a chance I might survive to see you again."
"And if you do not?"
"Someone must rule this nation, and you would be the nearest blood link. You would rule if we win, and I perish"
"But I do not wish to live if my only remaining family is dead. My uncle is my uncle yes, but he is not my brother."
"Yet live you must if not for yourself, for Rohan whom you hold so dear. Éowyn please do as the King asks."
"He asked Eomer, and did not command, yet I shall decide my course of action on what seems best for me and this nation. If that is any comfort to you my brother."
"Very little sister, for I know you well, and once you set your mind you do not change it. I shall leave now, for I must."
"Goodbye my brother and may the Valar be with you, may the blessings and strengths of our forefathers and our house be with you."
"And with you my sister. I hope that we shall see each other again."
"We shall Eomer, whether here or in another happier place."
He and I tearfully embraced and I bade him farewell. Once he left I immediately left my tent and gathered the armor I had prepared for myself. I flung it on and hurried to get my horse. As I was about to ride to a company I had chosen, I saw that the young Halfling who accompanied us was desolate as he was also being left behind. I bade him get his armor and ride with me. "For such good will should not be denied." I told him to call me "Dernhelm," as he did not seem to know my real name. Now we have stopped for the night. Merry (the Halfling) and I have camped slightly apart from the rest so as not to be discovered. For I will not be sent home like a child. Or as Merry so fittingly put it, "baggage to be picked up only when wanted." He and I understand each other though he knows it not.
Third month, 12th day
We camp at Minrimmon. Nothing much interesting. One can rarely catch glimpses of my brother or uncle, I suppose that is well, considering they should quickly recognize me. We have about four to five days until we reach Minas Tirith. I hear rumors from the amongst the men that the errand-rider of Gondor that Minas Tirith may fall before we even get there. For some bizarre reason I feel the urge to get there as quickly as possible. I get the feeling that for once I am needed. Somehow, I know, Minas Tirith is already under attack. Do not ask how. I just know. We must hurry.
Third month, 13th day
We are making progress, and have reached the Druadan Forest, where the Wild- men live. But, I am not worried about them, but about the city. Some evil is threatening to swallow it, and I feel we shall be too late to stop it. I know not what is come over me, I see Minas Tirith besieged in my dreams, even though I have never been there. The first circle of seven is about to fall and fire is burning unchecked throughout it. Can we ride no faster?
Third month, 14th day
We are a day's journey from the White City, and have just reached the Grey- Wood. Unbelievably, the Wild-men helped us find a hidden path to come to the White City's succor. Even now one can already hear the sounds of battle raging round it. You can see the smoke rising, and the shrill cries of the Nazgul. I have a sickening feeling we shall not be there in time.
Third month, 15th day
We have just arrived, no time to write. This place is a mess, everything is burning. So majestic a city too, it is sad. Yet we shall fight to the last to defend her and the free peoples of Middle Earth. We are lucky we got here at all, the wild men guided us here, now we can hopefully break the siege, if only for a brief moment. I shall be understood bys someone years from now, even if I must die to make my point. ROHIRRIM FOR THE GREEN BANNER AND THE WHITE CITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!! CHARGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !
Third month, 16th day
I am told I am lucky to be alive at all. Though, with my raging headache, melancholic depression, broken arm, and a nearly useless sword-arm I certainly don't feel it. Yes, I got the fight I wanted. Yet my heart is deeply grieved. I must tell you the whole story, so I shall.
Before Théoden King could give us any real orders, his horse, Snowmane somehow was spooked at charged forward like a wild thing. His house guards tried desperately to keep up with him, and my brother was forced to lead our people, yet soon we were noticed and the battle became so very confusing at that point. I had but one thought, to save my King from whatever danger her might encounter. I slew a few orcs in search of him, and finally I found him. His horse was wounded and had obviously thrown him. To my absolute horror I found that one of those foul Nazgul was about to devour him. I charged to his rescue, as he himself seemed to be wounded. Yet, my horse also grew spooked, and I had to dismount quickly. I do not know what became of Merry who had been riding with me, until later. I challenged the fearful witch king, and he laughed at me telling me no man could slay him. I contested I was a woman, and that he stood between me and my lord and kin, and threatened to slay him again. Then, I remember little, except that he smashed my shield to bits, and that Merry stabbed him in the behind the knee, giving me the opening to give him a blow where his head should have been. He gave a shrill cry, and died. Then everything went black, I remember no more. I do not know how much time passed before I heard my name called from a deep wood. I was resting after my exhausting battle, at first it seemed to be Lord Aragorn who was calling me, but when I awoke in some sort of healing place, it was my dear brother who called, and sat beside me holding my hand. I was so glad to see his familiar face, yet also sad for I had sought recognition through death in battle, and it seems I have gained neither...
Third month, 17th day
My brother was trying his best not to overexcite me, yet he could hardly keep from scolding me. Saying:
"If only you knew what despair pierced my heart when I saw you lying there as if you were dead. Did I not tell you Éowyn not to ride to battle?" Yes, that is the way my brother Eomer speaks jumping from one topic to the next with hardly a wait for a breath. I asked him for the outcome of the battle, which he was reluctant at first to give me, but I pressed him. His news was good, yet most grievous; we have paid dearly for our narrow victory. My Uncle Théoden King son of Thengel fell in battle; Rohan has lost its king. Before he died my uncle said to say goodbye to me and to have hope in a brighter future. His last words have made my brother King. My brother King of Rohan. My brother whom I chased down the halls of Meduseld, my brother with whom I had snowball and mud ball fights. My brother is King.
Shock seems to be my constant companion these days, I have just gotten word that my brother, Mithrandir, Lord Aragorn, and our other leaders are riding to the Black Gate of Mordor as I write. Why they do this I do not know, it is suicide. I am determined to go with them...
Third month, 18th day
I arose early this morning, and demanded clothing of the attending women, and got out of bed. Needless to say it was very painful, and the ladies were going into conniption fits about how I was not supposed to be out of bed for at least a week. I ignored them; I don't suppose they really knew what they were talking about anyway. They're only serving women. I demanded to speak to the healer. I was allowed to, but only after a great deal of trouble. It seems these mindless Gondorian women do not like what I did on the fields of Pellannor. Rather, they fear me, and do not believe I am a woman just like them.
Anyway, enough on them, they are a boring topic anywise. I asked the healer who was in charge of the city at present. I was told the Lord Faramir was. I had heard little of this man as he was only the second son of the Lord Denethor who died during the siege. All I know is from his brother who visited our country not so long ago wanting to borrow a horse. Boromir (the elder son of Denethor), spoke little to me. But what I heard of his brother was nothing but good. Although Boromir could not understand his brother's all-consuming love for learning and books. He once said, "..if my brother spent the same amount of time studying with his sword as he did with his books he should be a better warrior than I.." So this learned man, also a warrior of great renown I hear amongst his own people, was the man I was going to see to beg to go to the Black Gate and fight.
He had his back to me when I arrived, he was strolling in the gardens, and something weighed heavily on him. I heard he too was severely wounded in defense of his city, and was near death before they could get him medical attention. Anyway, he immediately tensed the moment my foot stepped into the garden. (I am a warrior too, I know such things.) HE HADN'T EVEN TURNED AROUND FOR CRYING OUT LOUD AND HE ALREADY KNEW I WAS THERE! It is rumored that some of Numenor have Elvish blood in them, it is obvious that this Faramir is one.
The warden announced me and withdrew after Faramir dismissed him. By this point he had turned around. I was greeted by a man who was much like his brother and mine, yet much like the Lord Aragorn, and even Mithrandir. Old, yet young much like the elves. His eyes seemed to read my purpose before I even opened my mouth. My carefully practiced speech flew from my mind as I tried to battle his intense gaze. I eventually gave up, he was too strong, and I mumbled something about wanting to go to the Black Gate. To which he wisely replied that he was also still healing, and under the warden's care. Not to mention, he said, that the riders were too far off to join even if I had the strength. I mentally chastised myself for asking such a stupid question. Of course anyone knew that. Why didn't I? Here he was, a Gondorian, who most likely knows far less about horses than I who have lived with them since I was born, and he knows the obvious answer to a question I should, but do not. I must have seemed like a fool. I tried desperately to redeem myself, but could only come up with another stupid question, or should I say, request.
"But my window does not even face east." I mope.
He laughs to my utter embarrassment, and says he shall fix that. Then he walked over to me, "Why do you fear me lady?" he asked.
He question caught me completely off guard; it was as if he had just read my mind
"I fear none my lord." I lie.
His face saddens. "You wish to fear none, yet you fear me. You have passed under the wings of shadow like myself, and have slain the King of Wraiths, yet you fear me. Tell me lady, is this not a paradox? For I should hope to think I am not as intimidating as the witch-king."
"My lord, I fear you because you seem to know my mind and none before you have tried to understand me. I am considered worthless and useless by all, yet you attempt to understand me as no one else has ever done."
"There my lady you are wrong. You are highly esteemed in both of our nations. The few who have tried to understand you have given up, or not bothered because you are so different from everyone. Being different is not always a bad thing. It may hurt, but I can tell you from experience, it is usually worth it. Nobody has understood why a woman would have the driving need to fight like you, and in truth I know little of you. Not as much as you think. Although I do know that you and I have much in common. I would learn more of you, and of your story that weighs so heavily upon you, and then perhaps I can then understand your desperate need to fight."
"Why would your lordship bother to learn of me and my dealings?"
"Because my lady, I have met none like you in all my traveling, and I hear you are restless in your chambers. Perhaps you shall not find me as tiresome as they."
"So I may walk abroad in the houses, and not be retained to my rooms?" I ask almost ecstatically.
"You may do as you wish in these houses as long as it is not rash or ill- counseled."
"Then I shall walk by the grace of the Steward of the City." I said curtseying as best I could, but the ground was uneven, and my legs still weak, and I slipped. Quick as a flash his arm shot out to steady me, and I noticed (brief though it be) that he winced in pain as he helped me up. I instantly felt guilty, and began to apologize profusely. He ended up telling me to be quiet, and saying that we were equals there was no need for curtseying in his presence. I was so embarrassed by this point I mumbled out my thanks and ran off before he could see the red rash that suddenly seemed to spread across my skin. I have never been so confused in my life.
In the space of five minutes this man scares me, reads my mind, surprises me and makes me absolutely lose my wits. This has never happened before. What in the world is wrong with me? This must have something to do with the after-effects of their Gondorian medicine or the Nazgul. I've heard some rumors about it even before I came here, why can't I have a Rohirric man of herb-lore tend me? At least I know their medication is safe....
Later....
My room was changed shortly after I finished speaking with the steward. I also have a window facing the gardens, not just east. I could see him walking about with Merry this evening; they were talking about what I shall not guess. I did not go out, I was still too embarrassed. He must think me a mere child. By the Valar! My face flushes in my chamber just remembering it! Perhaps they are talking of me out there. I looked out just now and Lord Faramir caught my gaze as if he were expecting it. What must he think of me? Hiding in here like a scared rabbit? I'm drawing the curtains.....