It was a cold morning. The cold was piercing, and she tried to melt
into the covers to keep warm, but even under woolen blankets, her hands
were icy cold. She finally stood up in frustration, throwing a shawl over
her shoulders, and clamped her teeth firmly together to prevent them from
chattering.
She strode into the Great Hall. Lothiriel sat on a bench watching two boys circling each other, wooden swords in hand. The taller one was Elfwine; she recognized the golden curls and joyous features as her brothers. The younger, she could not identify. One of the village boys perhaps, she thought, as she walked towards her sister-in-law.
"Eowyn," Lothiriel said warmly, standing up to embrace her. Eowyn felt uncomfortable in the woman's arms, but nevertheless returned the gesture.
"We hoped you would wake."
"Come here, Elfwine. Let me take a good look at you," Eowyn bent down on the floor as Elfwine ran over to her and stopped abruptly.
"Good morning, Aunt," Elfwine said politely. Eowyn pushed his hair behind his ears, and poked his arm.
"You've grown strong, nephew," Eowyn said, standing up. She pushed him back towards his friend.
"He looks more like his father every day," Lothiriel said proudly, admiring him. She turned back to Eowyn and smiled.
"Where is my brother?" Eowyn tried to ask as kindly as possible, but she was irritated by the cold and slightly snappish.
Lothiriel looked away, and turned to her son, who stood watching them with playing with his companion. "He went hunting. He was restless, I think. He has not left here since you came."
"And the King Aragorn?"
"Solitary, in his room. I do not know if he has woken yet."
"Is there no word when we shall return to Minas Tirith?"
"No, my Lady. I have heard none, but my husband thinks you should stay here until you are fully recovered..."
"I am fully recovered," Eowyn retaliated angrily. "Perhaps you are mistaking me for my mare. She did the majority of the running, and it is her we need be concerned about."
Lothiriel looked at her, hurt and slightly confused by Eowyn's outburst. "My lady, we fed her the best oats and water and she has been faring as well as any other of our stable horses..."
"Thank you, Queen," Eowyn interrupted. "I think I shall go take her out. She needs her exercise."
"My Lady," Lothiriel said pleadingly, "your brother said that you should stay indoors today. It is cold, and we cannot risk..."
"I will be fine! Cease your fussing over me as if I were a child!"
"It is true, Lady Eowyn. You should stay."
Eowyn whirled around and saw Aragorn standing in the threshold of the doorway. She could say nothing.
"It is for your health, and no other reason."
She swallowed, and tightened her throat resolutely. "My health?"
"Yes, my Lady," Aragorn said patiently.
"I am fit to deem my health, King," Eowyn said, trying not to humiliate herself with some explosion of willfulness.
"It is safer if you stay inside. It is a cold day."
"Please let me go, Aragorn," Eowyn begged. It was the first time she had called him Aragorn for ten years, and it troubled her.
He raised his eyebrows. "I entreat you, Lady, please..."
"You would have let Arwen go!" Eowyn exclaimed. She heard a gasp from behind her, and she turned back and saw Lothiriel's hand fly to her mouth. She turned her face sideways, too humiliated to look at Aragorn.
There was a deathly silence. Finally, Aragorn spoke. "You fear a cage, Lady, and I will not confine you to it," he said softly. "Here, take this," he took a few steps forward hesitantly and draped a warm cloak around her shoulders. She shivered as his fingers brushed her back, and the touch lingered on her skin long after he had retreated from the room.
Nearly shaking, she pinned it in the front. It was a fine green material, elven in quality, and the brooch was in the shape of a leaf. It was warm to the touch. She draped the hood over her head and strode past a gaping Lothiriel and her befuddled son and young friend as she threw open the doors and quickly walked down the steps into the winter sunlight.
She strode into the Great Hall. Lothiriel sat on a bench watching two boys circling each other, wooden swords in hand. The taller one was Elfwine; she recognized the golden curls and joyous features as her brothers. The younger, she could not identify. One of the village boys perhaps, she thought, as she walked towards her sister-in-law.
"Eowyn," Lothiriel said warmly, standing up to embrace her. Eowyn felt uncomfortable in the woman's arms, but nevertheless returned the gesture.
"We hoped you would wake."
"Come here, Elfwine. Let me take a good look at you," Eowyn bent down on the floor as Elfwine ran over to her and stopped abruptly.
"Good morning, Aunt," Elfwine said politely. Eowyn pushed his hair behind his ears, and poked his arm.
"You've grown strong, nephew," Eowyn said, standing up. She pushed him back towards his friend.
"He looks more like his father every day," Lothiriel said proudly, admiring him. She turned back to Eowyn and smiled.
"Where is my brother?" Eowyn tried to ask as kindly as possible, but she was irritated by the cold and slightly snappish.
Lothiriel looked away, and turned to her son, who stood watching them with playing with his companion. "He went hunting. He was restless, I think. He has not left here since you came."
"And the King Aragorn?"
"Solitary, in his room. I do not know if he has woken yet."
"Is there no word when we shall return to Minas Tirith?"
"No, my Lady. I have heard none, but my husband thinks you should stay here until you are fully recovered..."
"I am fully recovered," Eowyn retaliated angrily. "Perhaps you are mistaking me for my mare. She did the majority of the running, and it is her we need be concerned about."
Lothiriel looked at her, hurt and slightly confused by Eowyn's outburst. "My lady, we fed her the best oats and water and she has been faring as well as any other of our stable horses..."
"Thank you, Queen," Eowyn interrupted. "I think I shall go take her out. She needs her exercise."
"My Lady," Lothiriel said pleadingly, "your brother said that you should stay indoors today. It is cold, and we cannot risk..."
"I will be fine! Cease your fussing over me as if I were a child!"
"It is true, Lady Eowyn. You should stay."
Eowyn whirled around and saw Aragorn standing in the threshold of the doorway. She could say nothing.
"It is for your health, and no other reason."
She swallowed, and tightened her throat resolutely. "My health?"
"Yes, my Lady," Aragorn said patiently.
"I am fit to deem my health, King," Eowyn said, trying not to humiliate herself with some explosion of willfulness.
"It is safer if you stay inside. It is a cold day."
"Please let me go, Aragorn," Eowyn begged. It was the first time she had called him Aragorn for ten years, and it troubled her.
He raised his eyebrows. "I entreat you, Lady, please..."
"You would have let Arwen go!" Eowyn exclaimed. She heard a gasp from behind her, and she turned back and saw Lothiriel's hand fly to her mouth. She turned her face sideways, too humiliated to look at Aragorn.
There was a deathly silence. Finally, Aragorn spoke. "You fear a cage, Lady, and I will not confine you to it," he said softly. "Here, take this," he took a few steps forward hesitantly and draped a warm cloak around her shoulders. She shivered as his fingers brushed her back, and the touch lingered on her skin long after he had retreated from the room.
Nearly shaking, she pinned it in the front. It was a fine green material, elven in quality, and the brooch was in the shape of a leaf. It was warm to the touch. She draped the hood over her head and strode past a gaping Lothiriel and her befuddled son and young friend as she threw open the doors and quickly walked down the steps into the winter sunlight.