Chapter 9
Éowyn gaped, wide-eyed. She knew that taking a walk in this day would have been a terrible idea. She had no idea how to react to everything at this point of time. Haldir, if only you were here, she thought mournfully. She has got over her infatuation with the King of Gondor years ago, but he was now something much more – he was a trusted friend, and she could only imagine his horror and shock when he found out. No, she would not betray Arwen and hurt Aragorn – yet. She couldn't decide on what to do without Haldir's counsel, but she supposed it might have been along the lines of "Follow what your heart guides you to," She sighed painfully. Betrayal. Minas Tirith reeked of the bitterness of betrayal through and through. She shook her head and retreated to the castle and back to her room. As she closed her eyes slowly, faded images filled her kind. The rugged beauty of her beloved Rohan, the serenity of Lothlorien…it soothed her mentally and she felt completely at ease, much more than she had felt in a long time.
"Lady Éowyn," A voice from outside shattered the fragile images. Thousands of dewy memories faded into nothingness as a young maiden scurried up to her as she opened the door. "Lady Arwen has sent for you, milady," she said, bowing.
"Thank you," Éowyn said, smiling down at the little girl, and strode to Arwen's room.
"Queen Arwen," she said, curtseying. Arwen gave her a friendly and peaceful smile between two non-antagonistic people. "Éowyn, I feel that you should know one thing. I know what you have seen. I can tap into images and scenes from your mind, and I'd just like to tell you that it is not…betrayal, as you might have imagined it to be," she said. Éowyn realized that with her thoughts, she had cornered the Queen of Gondor into a difficult spot. "It will be difficult for Aragorn if he finds out," Éowyn said noncommittally, trying not to sound too worried or biased. Arwen gazed at her.
"I think it's amazing how well you've all got to know each other at Rohan," Arwen said slowly, "but I don't think this is the truth he'd have wanted to hear. But more importantly, Éowyn, for yourself, are you ready to achieve closure in this part of your life?" Éowyn shut her eyes. Closure. It sounded abrupt and sharp. Ending a chapter of her life, slicing it short. Resigned to return to Rohan, just another lady of the court…
"Your Majesty, Queen Arwen, do you realize how much 'closure' might just hurt me…to be back where I dread I might end up again,"
Arwen laughed a tinkling, elvish laugh. "You misunderstand me, Lady Éowyn. The Prince of Faramir has made an…shall we say, interesting proposition,"
Éowyn's eyes hardened. "Queen Arwen, please. It would be good if you could inform him that I am neither interested, nor at all excited at the prospect. If anything, I'll be leaving for Rohan soon. My future is as uncertain as the wind now," she said.
Arwen smiled again. "It takes much for a man to ask the Queen of Gondor what to do for the Lady of Rohan," she said softly. Arwen looked closely at Éowyn, but she appeared unmoved.
"It never works out right eventually – it's always a disaster," she said icily, before curtseying again, and taking her leave. Loud voices from down the hallway attracted her curiosity and attention.
"Yes, you sealed Minas Tirith. You sealed it with me in it. I have my ways, my King, and every last one of you fell stupidly into my trap. I've always been here. Watching at his funeral. Nice elf, wasn't he? Never meant to kill him in such a manner, he was much too much of a gentleman,"
Éowyn felt her blood run clod. It could not be. Why couldn't he leave them all alone for once? Why couldn't Arwen sense any of this?
"You know as well as myself that I will not go down without a fight, Grima Wormtongue. You were once a man of Rohan. Why forfeit that?" Her brother's voice joined in.
Aragorn's angry voice rang out. "Grima Wormtongue. If you insist on a duel, you will have it. Speak no more," he said furiously. However, Éomer laid a restraining hand on Aragorn's arm.
"No, Aragorn. We get the truth out of this lying snipe before we do anything. Speak! What have you always been here for? Will our deaths satisfy your desires?"
"Saruman will come to power after my work is done," he said, "The Kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan will all be one. The power of Saruman still rages, and neither of you can fight the onslaught of the tide that is his power,"
Éowyn shook with silent fury. This was her chance to avenge her husband's death, and rid them of this scum. But if she failed, both her child and herself would be lost and sacrificed in the process. She closed her eyes and invoked the power of the Lady Galadriel to help her, begging for advice. Yet nothing came through. Frustrated, she knew what she had to do. She dashed into the room and picked up the sword of her fallen husband. It gave her hope and a rush of power surged through her. It reminded her of their love and she strengthened her resolve. She gripped the sword tightly, and she knew that she would avenge the death of Haldir, the corruption of Theoden's mind, his words of poison towards them all. As she prayed silently under her breath, she yanked the door open, startling all of them.
"Well, well. Look who just joined us," Grima said. Éowyn felt no need for words at the moment. Gesturing wildly to Éomer, she seized Grima Wormtongue and pushed him to the side of the wall, an ironic parody of the way he had thrust and parried with Haldir before murdering him. Éomer was prepared to go forward and attack if he saw the imminent need to do so. He recalled the strong willpower of his sister, and saw the fire flash in her eyes.
"I can almost begin to taste the sweet victory," Éowyn said, glaring hard at Grima Wormongue. She felt particularly vindictive, and she closed her eyes. It had to be emotionless. She could not kill. It had to be purely out of revenge, but before she could do anything, Éomer said, "Stop. Grima Wormtongue, you must confess now. Either way, you are a cornered man – and a dead one. Your sword has fallen Saruman has fallen. Say your last confession, Grima, and save your soul for salvation if you wish!" Éomer said commandingly.
Grima Wormtongue spat condescendingly at his feet, and glared back and forth between the siblings. Éowyn grabbed him again. "Éomer, it is useless. He will not repent, and the only thing that is left is to kill him. We will not be safe in any other way, and will have to live the rest of our lives in fear," she said furiously. As the fury rose in her blood, she felt something inside her snap. She flung the sword directly at him. The blade sliced through flesh and blood, and as Éowyn stood horrified at her own actions, she closed her eyes as Grima Wormtongue gurgled and choked, his eyes rolling upwards before he collapsed.
She had finally done what she had been thinking of for so long. Yes. She had. She hoped that she would be forgiven, but yet she told herself that she had been able to stop the imminent attacks on the two kingdoms. My dearest Haldir, she thought sadly, Rest in peace, for I have avenged your death…my love. As she thought, a searing pain ripped through her abdomen. It can't be…not now, she thought frantically. As she bent over and screamed, she mamaged to gasp out, "Call for help!" in between her wracked breathing.
As Arwen rushed into the room, she seemed momentarily shocked, and called, "Send her to the Houses of Healing," she said. "My magic is not enough," she said gravely. Éowyn felt images swirling around her as she was carried away. Please, let my child be safe. Let him be born into happiness and joy, she thought, frightened.
A/n: Firstly, thanks to all the reviewers! Okay. I promise you this has a happy(ish) sort of ending to it, and that the next chapter will be the last (because I've scribbled it out already, but haven't had the time to type it out)…so…yes what happens later is anybody's guess, but I PROMISE HALDIR WILL MAKE ONE LAST APPEARANCE! Don't ask how, because I have taken dangerous liberties with the storyline. Haha.
