Scene Four: A Lesson in Staring

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.

Carl Sagan

It was over a month later before Eowyn started in the healing wing. First had been the two weeks of trying to convince Theoden, then Theodred had asked her to go to Dol Amroth with him with the caravans…it had been some time.

But now she was here.

The old lady healer, the head of the healing ward, sighed so grievously it made Eowyn's eyes widen a bit.

"It's good to have help, I suppose…we are always so short on healers," she shook her head, and then looked Eowyn up and down.

"You'll do," she said.

Eowyn paused awkwardly. "…What would you have me do?"

"For now…hmmm…you do not know much of healing, do you?" Eowyn shook her head.

The old lady healer turned her head and rasped out, "Soredamors! Soredamors!"

A young girl came stumbling out of a room quickly, her wry, red hair everywhere.

"Yes, Lady Hothien?" she panted.

"My lady, this is Soredamors," said Hothien, and the red-haired child bowed. "She knows much of what goes on here…you will stick with her until you learn the basics. Soredamors," she said sternly, "I want you to serve the midday meal to all of the patients now. Feed the ones that need to be fed and make sure those that can feed themselves eat. Shoo." Hothien disappeared into another room.

Soredamors looked up at the lady, and Eowyn frowned.

"Do you feed them all by yourself, usually?" she asked.

Soredamors shook her head. "No, the lady healer and I do it together…but now that you're here…" the red-head trailed off. She motioned quickly for her lady to follow, and quickly went down a small flight of stairs down the end of the corridor to the kitchens. There was a large pot of some sort of soup.

Soredamors dumped a myriad of wooden spoons in the front pocket of her apron, then hefted up a large stack of wooden bowls as well. She jerked her head towards the soup pot.

"Can you carry that, lady?" she asked.

Eowyn nodded, and took the handle of the large pot. She lifted it smoothly off the fire and looked to Soredamors. The little girl gave a hint of a smile.

They treaded back up the stairs. Soredamors went to the first door, and Eowyn sat the pot down by the door. The red-head ladled some of the stew into the bowl, laid a wooden spoon there as well and handed it to Eowyn.

"Say hello, be nice, give him the soup and don't stare," she whispered to the shieldmaiden, "they hate that more than anything."

Eowyn cradled the bowl in one hand and softly opened the door. She stepped into the room, and was instantly greeted by a middle aged woman covered in oozing sores.

Eowyn was not a squeamish woman by any means. Yet, it would have been hard for anyone to conceal the shock at seeing the state of this woman—the sores on her face pussed and seemed to have open mouths of grotesqueness.

"G-good day, lady," Eowyn said quickly, setting down the soup on the bedside table, "I have brought your soup for the day."

"Thank you," said the woman with a smile, sitting up in bed. She quickly took the soup and began to eat. Eowyn bowed and quickly walked out of the room. Soredamors had served a couple other patients. The two worked their way down the hall until they got to the last door. Eowyn filled a bowl of soup and laid her hand on the door knob when Soredamors whispered quickly, "Lady, no, no!"

Eowyn paused. "What is wrong?"

"Lady…" said Soredamors, choosing her words carefully, "…there is a man in there who is very…hurt. He cannot feed himself. I have fed him every day for a little over a month now...but its hurts him when I feed him. Do you understand?"

When Eowyn opened her mouth to speak, Soredamors quietly interrupted her. "I think, my lady, with all due respect, that it would hurt him more to be fed by a lovely lady, such as you, instead of a girl…like me." The girl's eyes pleaded for her to take no offense as she softly opened the door and walked into the room with a cheery, "Hello, milord."

The voice that answered her made Eowyn stop in her tracks. She peered through the crack in the door, trying to not let herself be seen. The man lying in bed was dark and strong-looking…and she was instantly taken in by the bright gray eyes. She stared at his face, praying silently he would not see her.

It was only a few moments later when she realized he was missing his arm. A few moments later she saw the brightness of his eyes dim as Soredamors held a spoonful of soup to his lips, and he grudgingly drank. And it was a few moments later when he looked up to the door and saw her pale, fine face staring at him that the brightness of his eyes completely disappeared.