Life After Death
NOTE: I don't own LOTR or any of the characters.
Yeah, I know I haven't updated in a while but I was so depressed about the complaints I got on this fic just because of my nice little plot device.
So, in the spirit of Christmas, this is a late Christmas gift to the people who do read this fic and see what it truly is. (As in not a fic that is completely Théodred/Éowyn, but rather about Éowyn's journey through the movies).
I had no quarrel with my Uncle as to changing my dress but I still felt a bit bitter about it. Still, I had returned to my room, exchanged my dresses, and called for my handmaiden to pull my hair up. Pinning ones' hair up is a daunting task, one that I never liked nor ever took the time to learn.
As with most women I had long hair but I refused to take too much care of it. The only talent I had with my hair was tying it back so that it would not blow wildly in my face.
After my attire was changed I headed out for the burial sites. All of my Uncle's forbearers were buried there and as well be my cousin, very depressing, especially since I had to make my way down through the lane created by the villagers from the steps of the Golden Hall to the burial site.
It was even worse as I stood there waiting for my Uncle and Théodred's body to come down the pass. I stood there surrounded by people who I thought of as a huge family while trying so hard to not look at the tomb.
Spying my Uncle coming down the ceremonial march with Háma in tow along with the recently arrived strangers, I closed my eyes to fight away the tears that stung at the corners. This was one of the many reasons why I preferred my hair down, it normally hid my face when I wished nothing more than to disappear.
Hearing the sound of shifting armor, I opened my eyes to see the soldiers turning the burial slab around so that Théodred may enter his tomb head first, as is custom.
My Uncle stood before me and I clutched my hands into tight balls of fists. I felt so helpless as I stood there shaking from anger and despair, a despair that threatened to show in crying. I may not be much of a singer but I do know this much, crying makes singing an even more difficult task.
Taking a breath I began to sing as I watched my husband's body being passed into the tomb.
"Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended. Giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde. Bat heo mano arer his þruc ne deores, on meagorinc deorcas, belu."+
I sang with all my being that day and it was all for Théodred that I sang for. Not for tradition, not because it was my duty, but because I loved him; he deserved the best that I could give him.
At the time I was unaware of this but my handmaiden later informed me that I shook during the entire time that I sang. My arms and hands visibly quaked as though I was trying to resist some sort of urge or trying to fight off some emotion.
I do not think she knew how accurate she was in her observations.
As the tomb was covered my song ended and the people stayed for a few moments, saying their blessings and sending condolences to my Uncle and some to me. Like the Walda's mother, the woman I tended to, she approached me and gave me a hug as well as a motherly kiss on the forehead.
"Be strong my child, like your cousin was," she whispered to me in her sickly voice before she grabbed hold of her younger son's hand to lead him home.
Among the last of the remaining mourners I turned to the tomb. It was unbelievable to me that such a place now coveted the body of my cousin when it was most likely meant for my Uncle instead. How sad it was for my Uncle to have lost his only son and at such a young age.
There is one thing about my life that I hate, the fact that I feel as though I should not cry in the presences of others except under special circumstances. Neither my brother nor cousin cried in public; in fact, I had only seen my cousin cry once and Éomer, well, I cannot remember a time when I had ever heard or saw him cry, much less shed a tear.
Being the only woman among the two men I have always felt that I had to be their equal or even their better as far as skills and emotions went. In a way, holding in my feelings was a relief but for the most part it was burdensome…
My Uncle approached me after most of the villagers had returned to their homes, leaving the family and the travelers alone in front of the tombs. Uncle Théoden held a grave expression on his face, yet his lower lip trembled a bit. He was keeping his emotions at bay as much, if not more so, than I was.
"Éowyn," he spoke in my ear gently, keeping his voice low, "why do you not go back to the hall and perhaps show our guests to their quarters?"
It was not a suggestion, it was a command. The tone of his voice alone told me as much, still I took offense to this command; I had just as much right to be out there mourning the loss of Théodred as my Uncle did!
I was about to voice that very reason when I saw the deeply saddened appearance in my Uncle's eyes. My heart broken in half for a second time that day. It was absolutely selfish of me not to give my Uncle his moment of peace, alone with his thoughts and the tomb.
Consenting to his request, I gave my Uncle a nod and place a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as I brushed past him toward the group of strangers who were making their way back into Edoras. Well, all except for Gandalf the Grey-now White.
Pausing before the wizard I looked up at him to convey my message to leave my Uncle be through my eyes. His eyes softened as they looked down upon me and a consoling smile graced his lips.
"Continue on, I wish to perhaps say a few private words that may console your uncle. I promise to return him to Meduseld when he is finished," Gandalf assured me.
Trusting the wizard's words I inclined my head and turned to return to the Hall.
I was not five steps within the gates when I realized that the weight around my neck had lightened. Padding area of my collar I found that my amulet was no longer resting around my neck.
Turning about swiftly I traced my steps backwards while watching the ground for any sign of my charm, it was a collective gift from my cousin and brother so it was very dear to me.
Looking about hastily, I glanced up to see if it by some miracle was gleaming somewhere in the grass. Instead, what I saw was two figures upon a horse and one of them fall off to the ground. Glancing at my Uncle and the wizard, I saw that Gandalf had noticed the figures and was starting to make his way toward the horse, slowly.
Silently offering my aid I followed quickly behind the wizard toward the horse. I know that Gandalf had tamed and was able to ride a grand stead such as Shadow Fax but that did not prove he was able to tame any horse.
He noticed my presence and tried to turn me back by sending me little signals with his eyes and hands, but I refused to obey. He might be able to handle the horse or the person who fell, which I could by then see that it was a young boy that had fallen, but Gandalf would not be able to do both tasks without some difficulty. So I intended to assist him whether he wished me to or not.
He must have realized my stubbornness to leave as he instructed, "Take the horse and I shall carry the boy."
"Certainly," I complied as I approached the horse slowly as to not startle the creature for there was a young girl on its back. "Girl," I spoke in a soothing yet confident voice, "do you have any control of your horse?"
I prayed that she would say 'yes' so as to make it even safer to approach the animal.
The little girl shook her head yet I saw that she had the reigns gathered in her hands, although I did not, nor would I now, believe that the girl would have any control of the horse if it was startled.
Having Rohirrim in ones' blood usually meant that the person had a deep passion for such a creature has the horse, of any sort, and had a natural talent for them. The girl had a natural talent for when I stepped forward and the animal would want to step back, the girl would tighten her hold on the reigns out of fear.
"Good girl," I muttered, coming into contact with the horse, gently stroking its broad neck down to the reigns.
Grabbing hold of the reigns I was met with some resistance from the girl as she refused to let go.
Placing a comforting hand on top of her smaller one, I kindly told her, "Let go, I have the reigns so he will not run wildly with you still upon him."
Looking down at me with tear filled eyes the girl reluctantly loosened her grip on the reigns until I was able to pull the reigns away from her hands.
"Good girl," I smiled encouragingly. "Now, hold onto the withers here and do not let go until someone is ready to help you off. Understand?" She nodded, taking hold of a bit of mane.
I knew that the withers, the mane hairs furthest down the horse's neck, would not cause the animal noticeable pain when pulled at. I ought to have known since I was trained to ride by Edoras' two most accomplished riders and they both had me hang onto the mane when I was first learning to trot.
Leading the horse behind Gandalf we met with my Uncle at the gates and he walked beside me for a moment, holding out his hand.
"I believe you dropped this, I do not suppose that you would ever wish to lose it," Uncle Théoden told me.
Glancing down at his hand I found my amulet lying flat on his palm. My dear Uncle had found it! Oh how I wanted to cheer and hug him but at that moment I was busy tending to the horse and the young girl.
"Thank you my Lord," I returned gratefully as I took the amulet and held it in my free hand. It is a bit difficult for me to put on the charm with one hand.
Not saying anything else, Uncle Théoden moved on ahead to join in assisting Gandalf with the boy, making certain that the wizard was able carry him. It seemed that Gandalf the White did not truly need help carrying the boy for the wizard moved as though no extra weight rested on his arms.
Separating from my Uncle and Gandalf, I led the horse to the stables and handed the reigns to the first stable hand that came running.
"Make sure you water him down and give him something to drink. Wait about an hour to feed him, we do not need to make the horse sick by any means," I instructed as I held my arms up to the girl.
She was light in my arms as I removed her from the saddle and held onto her. Despite not being the one to do the actually riding of the horse the child was exhausted with emotions and I was not going to force her to walk in such a condition.
Knowing that the horse was in good hands, I carried the girl to the Hall and entered inside to be greeted by curious, questioning gazes of our guests. The Dwarf seemed to be a bit curious as to the reason behind the presence of children; the Elf held the facial expression of indifference yet his eyes spoke volumes of his concern; lastly, the Man watched in concern as I carried the child toward the sick room, for I was positive that was where the boy resided.
My suspicions were confirmed as I passed Gandalf in the hall. He stopped me for a moment.
"Stay with the children, will you?" he requested in such a tone that I would have thought him to be my grandfather. How could I deny him?
"Certainly, I shall stay with them and when the boy wakes I shall send for bread and soup into the hall for them to eat," I reassured, feeling the girl start to play with a few stray hairs at my neck. "Anything else?"
The wizard nodded, "Do learn their names and what has brought them here for I am certain that the reason is not a pleasant one."
With that he removed himself to return to the rest of the men while I continued on my way to the sick room.
"Freda," I heard the girl whisper.
"What?" I asked, uncertain of what I had heard exactly.
"My name is Freda."
I had to add in the singing (chanting if you want to call it) that Éowyn had done. I hadn't put it in earlier because I couldn't find it, but I found it on a website that had the script for TTT Extended. So, of course I added it.
An evil death has set forth the noble warrior. A song shall sing the sorrowing minstrels in Meduseld. That noble cousin who always held me dear, now is held in darkness, enclosed.