Author's Note: After some going back and forth-ing I've finally decided to gather whatever fics I write where someone ponders while keeping watch as one series. This story was originally posted as a single fic, but I took that one down and now I'm reposting it as a chapter. The short piece on Boromir was great fun for me, I got to explore the character's opinions and thoughts. I realised I'll probably be doing many fics in that style so why not gather them as one series, with stand alone chapters? These are all my own interpretations of course, someone else might see the characters differently, but that's what fanfiction is all about isn't it? Interpreting characters. This ficlet is for Éowyn, without a doubt my favourite character outside the fellowship (and tied with Pippin as my second favourite all-together). I hope you'll enjoy.
Disclaimer: Éowyn and the Return of the King with its events and places belong to JRR Tolkien.
Darkness fell around Éowyn as she sat awake by the fire. Someone had ordered Dernhelm, Éowyn, to keep watch the first hour of the night and he, she, obeyed. It had never occurred to her to refuse even though she in her life had never had to stay awake and keep watch other than by own choice over sick relatives. She didn't want to disobey, or do anything that stuck out, she wanted to be just like the warriors around her. Just like the men. Wanted to be their equal. She wanted to do the watch duties, carry the heavy armor, kill her own food, sleep on the hard ground and ride to an uncertain end. Not have everything neatly served to her on a platter, with people constantly worrying that she would get her hands dirty. She wanted to feel alive.
It all depended on her keeping her secret. She didn't know what would happen if she was found out but she could imagine her uncle sending her straight back. If not him then Éomer. It was unfair. All of her life she and Éomer had been equals except for one thing. He got to ride out and meet danger, feel alive. She had to stay at home and be kept safe, having others live her life for her. Her beloved brother understood everything about her, except this longing to see more than what the cage of safety had to offer. Perhaps he felt a woman should be kept safe and not have desires to meet danger. In truth she knew that he fought many of his battles so that she would be safe and that it meant a lot to him that she was protected. Now she was lying to him, him and her uncle, for the first time. They thought their beloved White Lady was safe and protected where they had left her. She would let them go on believing that. She didn't want to be in their way or cause them worries. She had a feeling that if her secret was found out she would put everyone's life in danger. She would have disturbed the order and the way things were done, caused confusion and commotion, and soldiers would have to accompany her back to where they had thought they left her. Soldiers who were needed in the upcoming fight.
Her other secret wasn't as well kept. It was crawled up beside her under a bunch of quilts, where she could see it, where she could watch over it. She had the responsibility for this secret's well being and she didn't know why she had done such a foolish thing. The last thing she needed was more things to keep her mind on, even though she secretly welcomed having something else to think about every now and then. It had been foolish to burden her shoulders with this second secret. But she couldn't deny someone else the chance she was taking for herself.
She looked around at the soldiers. The men of Rohan. The men she so desperately wanted to live like, the men who perhaps died young but who at least lived life before they did. They were now unshaven, hadn't bathed for weeks and were sleeping with the ground as their mattress. She thought it was wonderful. Nobody had to worry about their appearance, nobody fussed over her comfort. She had long suspected that one could live even without the luxuries she had been brought up in, and even though the world around her had claimed she couldn't she was now proving that she could. She didn't need maids and beautiful dresses and food always neatly served on a plate by a solid table. She could live anyway. She could live like her people. She hated being the White Lady, everyone looked up to her and admired her but in truth she had no idea what it was like to be a citizen of Rohan. Not until now. Now she knew how the men of Rohan lived, how people got by without lots of comforts and beautiful things all around them. Now she felt like their lady, like one of them. Like someone worthy of their admiration because she was one of them.
Looking at the soldiers she suddenly felt a lump in her throat. Every one of them seemed to have a comrade, a trusted friend among the other soldiers. She had kept to herself on purpose, hoping to avoid being discovered, and she didn't mind solitude. She was used to solitude. But she was going into battle, she knew that much. These men around her were going into battle. And they all had someone. Each and every one seemed to have one or more good friends, someone they leaned on and turned to. It was only natural, she had heard her brother and her now deceased cousin talk about how brotherhood develops between soldiers who ride out to war. Éowyn had never had a friend in her life, only maids. She had her brother, but it had now been a long time since he had been able to stay home for more than a few days at a time. He no longer had time for her like he had had in the past, war was upon them. Even before the war had started he had been needed elsewhere. He had been needed for Rohan, but even though she was born by the same mother to the same father she wasn't needed. She was a woman. She was alone.
All these soldiers around her. They all had a friend, a confidante, someone they would stick by in battle and draw their swords and raise their courage with. Someone they would look after and aid, someone who would look after them in return. She had seen it so clearly in Aragorn and his friends, clearer than ever before. Friendship. The Dwarf and the Elf would follow him to whatever end because they were his brothers in arm and his family by heart. His friends. She had envied that bond. She envied the bonds these soldiers had amongst themselves. She envied how they cared about someone else so deeply without being related or being in love, and she envied how each and every one of them had those feelings responded by others. These men knew that they were not alone. They knew that not even in the chaos of battle, surrounded by bloodthirsty enemies, would they be alone, no matter how dark things would appear. They knew without a moment's hesitation that if they were in a tough spot one of their friends would be there for them as soon as humanly possible.
But who would be there for Dernhelm?
By her side slept a Hobbit.
Please leave a review and let me know what you think! I'm working on a third ficlet like this, it should be up soon.