Éowyn
Éowyn's journal in the Houses of Healing.

Disclaimer: see first chapter.


Year 3019, March: 19
the late hours of the day / already dark

Again and again, as soon as I wake up, the dreary feeling overcomes me. When I try to sleep, it is restless, so I wake up, but when I am awake I get tired very quickly.

And it is only one thing I can think of now: They have ridden and I am not with them.

And in sleep, I dream of another encounter with the Shadow, and it shows me how small a thing I am, how easy to crush and then I fall into endless depths without waking up but I know I will and I know that when I wake up I will realise the falling will never end so I try to restrain the urge of opening my eyes but I am waking up slowly I know and then I see the nothingness below me and I still fall towards it…

Images dash through my head when I try to rest. Images of a time long ago in Rohan, in the House of Eorl.

My mother is crying, rolled up on her bed and I run to her. I see her ring lying on the floor, her precious wedding-ring she kisses every day, and I pick it up and stroke her and try to press the ring into her clamped hand but she doesn't take it and it drops on the wet bedspread and she sobs and I lay down beside her and go to sleep, my short arms around her.

When I wake up she is sitting

and I look up at her swollen eyes

and smile and ask her if she was alright now

and she cries again

and I say don't cry mama

but she does,

and when the crying has ceased

she tells me how much she loves me

and that my father has gone to fight the orcs

and I think I know that,

he does that often

and then she cries again

and tears flood her face

I remember thinking it looks like a little stream

and it strikes me slightly funny

but I try keep a solemn face when she says

I am so so sorry but you have to be strong now

and she hugs me much too tightly

and tells me my father will never

come back from his hunt, never ever

because he has passed away

and I start to cry with her

and when she goes to sleep

I run away to stand in front of the hall

and look out for my father

but then I stumble upon

a great wooden case with fine carvings in the Hall

and a lot of men standing around it

and know intuitively where my father is.

My brother comes into my room

wearing a huge helm on his head

and I shout at him because he knows

I hate being bothered

but then I see that he is almost crying so

I take his hand

and he guides me to the room of our mother

and I see his frightened look

and go inside while he stays outside

and pulls the door shut

and I see my mother

and see that even under her tons

of sheets and blankets she still

looks much too fragile and thin,

so I don't run in her arms but ask

mama? are you well?

but she looks at me

and mentions me to come forward

so I do

and stroke her face which feels so hot

although she's shivering

and she takes my face into both her hands

and tries to smile at me

and tells me that she loves

me and my brother

with all her soul

but she can't stop loving my father

because she loves much too much

and I don't understand it because

my father is under the earth

but somewhere in me I know she will die

and the pounding in my ears starts

and gets louder and louder

until I cannot hear

what she is trying to tell me

and break away and run.

I am looking out of my window in Edoras, and I envy the other children playing in the sand. Maids are sitting in the shade, sewing or occupying themselves with other housework,

and the sun is shining brightly

and I just want to turn away

when the sky gets overflowed with dark, black clouds,

the children scurry towards home

and the maids run into the house

and I rush downstairs

and want to tell my uncle the king

about what I have just seen

and run to his seat and babble away until

I notice the stranger beside him,

clothed in dark garments

with a greasy smile

and I think it is fascinating how suddenly

against the dark my uncle

has become so pale

and almost translucent when the stranger smiles

his greasy smile to me

and says I am a pretty child

and listening to me is fascinating

and I know it should sound like a compliment

but the way he says it,

it cannot be

and then I hear his cackling laughter

and run away, pressing my hands over my ears.

But the laughter continues and continues and I flee, but the more and the farther I run, the louder and nearer it seems but still every day I wake up I start to run and even in the night I run and I hear the voice insulting my family and smirking audibly, but I must run and so I run and run and run.

And I run,

crossing the fields of Pelennor,

Minas Tirith in sight,

but then my feet drag

and I look at them

and notice I have run into a shadow,

but there is naught around me,

just bare field, neither trees nor rocks

and my heart is filled with fear

because I know it

and as if to confirm my thoughts,

my head is lifted by a the tip

of a huge, glinting sword

and I look into the Shadow of Evil

that fills my sight

so I cannot see anything else

but black darkness coming towards me ever so slowly,

and I grip for a weapon but I cannot find one

and then darkness creeps into my body,

deliberately at slow pace

as if to relish every moment of my angst

and it hurts so I cry out loud and fall deeper and deeper…

When I woke up, it seemed to me as though I were out of breath, my feet sore and my arms aching.

I looked around and blinked, and saw that my white sheet was tangled with the blanket which was drooping over the floor and my pillow slightly damp. My eyes felt swollen so I am quite sure I have cried – the dreams had been so real, I could even recount them and picture them again.

But then I felt footsteps echoing in the hallway, and they were coming towards my room, so I quickly tried to straighten the blankets and prop myself up on the pillow, but I didn't succeed well, as when the Warden entered the room he looked worried and when his eyes set upon me his eyes flew open like in shock. He was friendly, though, and didn't enquire too much – he had heard my voice screaming once, and so he had come over to check on me, but once I had reassured him – smiling as nicely as I could – that I had had merely a nightmare, he seemed more at ease, although his brow was still furrowed when he went out.

I fear the sleep, but being awake and aware of my helplessness is almost worse. And my eyes need the sleep – crying seems to make them swell up and puffer when I just do not need it.

The style of this chapter is slightly different, to make the memories more intense; ClapToSaveTheFairies says it gives the dreams a surrealistic touch. I'd appreciate any opinions on that and everything else, please review with reason.