Hi-ya all. I've had this idea floating around my head for ages and now I'm finally happy with it. It's why I think Eowyn was attracted to Aragorn and then suddenly changed to Faramir so quickly. P.S. I don't own anything from LOTR (besides all the DVD's, posters, books, rocks from various film locations etc) or Kelly Clarkson's 'Hear Me' so there.
HEAR ME
By tears- in-rain
Hear me
Hear me
All of Rohan seemed still. Night had transformed the beautiful, yellow plains to an eerie, moonlit silver sea of endless grasslands. The fields seemed to ripple as strong winds whipped across the vast plains, yet even its howls seemed quiet.
All of Rohan seemed to be mourning the inevitable loss of their Prince, who had returned a few days ago in the arms of his cousin mortally wounded. Though Edoras' finest healers had tried their best, it now seemed as though their only option was to wait. Wait for death to release their Prince from his suffering and in doing so, take not only the Kings' only child, but rob his people of what little hope they had left. Rohan was quickly crumbling as the threat from the Wizard they once deemed their ally grew and the Shadow of Mordor stretch further throughout the land. In these darkening days, the people had turned to view Théodred and his younger cousin Éomer as shining beacons of hope. They were the last defence of their country as the King, whom both men looked up to as a father, continued to fail in his health.
Many silently blamed the Kings adviser, Gríma Wormtongue, for the decline of Rohan, but very few voiced their opinions outside of closed doors. Wormtongue used fear to control the public, enforced by the group of loyal followers he had managed to collect over the last few years. These followers were not like most men found in court, but had a rather thuggish nature and look. They were most effective in silencing any ill talk of the adviser.
And with Prince Théodred on his deathbed and now Éomer banished, the silence and dread of each and every horselord was settling over the land like a cloud of gloom, reducing the people to an almost hopeless existence.
And now, all of Rohan seemed still.
Waiting.
You gotta be out there
You gotta be somewhere
Wherever you are I'm waiting
Prince Théodred's room was just as still as the rest of the night outside, though the dying Prince was not the only occupant. While Théodred lay motionless on his bed except for his shallow breathing, another kneeled by his side. Her head resting upon his bed, her face veiled by her long, flaxen hair, and her pale hand resting in his. She too seemed to be resting, but an occasional whimper of grief was enough to prove she was not asleep.
'Cause there are these nights when
I sing myself to sleep
And I'm hopin' my dreams
Bring you close to me
Slowly, Éowyn lifted her head to stare once more into the pale and grave face of her beloved cousin. Théodred had remained still since his last attempt to regain consciousness back when she had first entered the room only a matter of hours ago. She had been horrified to see her brother leaning over and caring for her dirty and bloodied cousin. The dirt and the blood had now been cleaned off her cousins' handsome face, but now Éowyn almost regretted removing the mask that they had offered. In the darkened room, his skin looked silver and waxy. She couldn't stand seeing it looking that way.
Looking so corpse-like.
"Oh Théodred," she whispered, her voice breaking as more tears trickled down her cheeks. "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me here all alone."
Are you listening?
With her brother banished shortly after he returned bearing his beloved cousin and her uncle no longer able to even recognise her face anymore, once Théodred passed, she would be completely alone. No one remained in Eodras to offer her the help and comfort she needed. There was no one there to protect her from the unwanted attention of a certain adviser.
The Shieldmaiden of Rohan was an aloof individual by nature, but the last few darkening years had turned her cold and companionless. Though she was admired by many of Rohan's young noble men, she never considered ever taking a husband and set her focus to the matters of court. She had never fancied the idea of becoming someone's wife and being restricted to tending to her duty in the household and the bedroom. She was strong and independent, and refused to limit her future to the captivity that was marriage. If she wanted comfort and companionship, she would turn to her brother, her cousin or her uncle. With those three in her life, there was no need to surrender her freedom to one man.
Now, however, it seemed as though that comfort was quickly being taken from her and she found herself more and more alone. In her loneliness, she also found herself regretting not having someone to turn to, to hold her in his strong arms and whisper that everything would be okay. To offer her comfort and strength which she desperately needed in her grieving.
Burying her face in her hands, Éowyn remained kneeling beside Théodreds bed, crying quietly to the surrounding night.
Hear me
I'm cryin' out
I'm ready now
Turn my world upside down
Find me
I'm lost inside the crowd
It's getting loud
I need you to see
I'm screaming for you to please
Hear me
Hear me
After several moments, the White Lady of Rohan discovered she had cried herself out, yet she didn't move from her place beside her cousin. With her hands still covering her face, she hiccupped a few shallow breaths before sighing deeply. Though she didn't want to leave Théodred, her knees were beginning the ache painfully from the long minutes she had spent kneeling on animal pelts that cover the stone floor by her cousin's bed. Her mouth was dry and she was becoming slightly dehydrated after all the tears she had shed.
Rising slowly and stiffly, Éowyn quietly made her way over to the table beside the window that looked out over the silver plans of Rohan, her feet making little sound on the fur rugs. Resting on the table was a basin, a glass and a large pitcher of water. Gloomily, Éowyn filled the glass and then, almost on impulse, she filled the basin. She raised the glass to her lips and sipped the cold water, all the while watching the reflection the moon made on the water in the basin as its silver beams shone through the window. The water had stilled itself and now acted like a mirror to the night outside. It was beautiful.
Éowyn almost wished she was out underneath the vast, navy sky, free from the troubles that seemed to reside under the roof of the Golden Hall. She then remembered sadly that her brother was out there, when he should have been resting in the room next to her.
Draining the glass, Éowyn placed it on the table and turned her attention to the basin. She lowered her hands into the cool water, shattering the clear image that danced upon its surface. Cupping both hands, she lifted as much water that she was able to hold up out of the basin and splashed it over her face, washing away all the dried tears. She didn't bother towelling her face, but rather allowed the water to run down her cheeks and neck and ultimately trickling under the neckline of her dress.
Sighing, she remained sanding by the window, letting the water on her face to dry on its own accord. She watched the water in the basin ripple as she skimmed her fingers of her left hand through the cool liquid. The silver of the moon broke into long ribbons of light that mingled with the dark reflection of the night sky. It was hypnotising the way the two lapped against one another and cold embrace of the water against her fingers was surprisingly comforting and relaxing, though it did nothing to remove the loneliness that rested in her heart.
Hear me
Can you hear me?
Hear me
As she continued to caress the smooth water, she turned her eyes to the night sky outside. There was not a cloud in sight, letting the moon to shine freely on the plains below. Accompanying the moon, a thousand silver stars glistens from their place in the heavens and strangely they seemed to offer her more comfort than anything or anyone else on Middle Earth had done so far. If there was one thing that never failed in amazing Éowyn it was the beauty those tiny dots offer to the world. No matter where she was in Middle Earth, she always knew those stars would be there, even if they were covered by cloud. They were unchanging and eternal, and that reassured Éowyn as she looked to an unclear future.
Yet as she stared up was the glistening lights, they seemed to trigger a dream she had stored in her memory many years ago she had almost forgotten it was there. Though it was still a dream, she had remembered it with more clarity than she did most of her real life memories. She could have almost sworn it hadn't been a dream if it wasn't for the fact that she remembered waking from it in a sweat.
I used to be scared of
Letting someone in
But it gets so lonely
Being on my own
She could remember that the dream had involved her standing alone in a vast field, with a deep, nights sky over head, as though it seemed to be cloaked with soft, navy velvet. Silver stars had been embroidered into the material sky, which rippled with a wind Éowyn couldn't feel. Darkness veiled the surrounding field from her and the only light seemed to be coming from the silver stars above her.
The dream continued. Éowyn had sensed an intense heat coming up behind her and turned to see a pale, red glow pulsating behind her. The red light became increasingly brighter, until she was unable to watch it anymore. She turned her back to the red glow only to discovered that the blackness that had once been before her had lifted slightly and she could make up the white city of Minas Tirith looming in the distance, shining like a bight silver light against the black that surrounded it.
Éowyn also noticed that she was no longer alone in the black plain. A tall man with hair somewhat darker than one of her people stood not far from her in the shadows. He was dressed in the attire of a ranger and his back turned to her as he also looked at the White City in the distance. She couldn't remember ever walking up to him in the dream, but she soon found herself standing alongside the stranger. She didn't try to look at his face, simply taking comfort in the mere presence of the man. And although they were both alone in the shadowed plain, she felt more at ease and safe standing next to this unknown man than she had when surrounded by all the Royal Guards of Rohan.
Though even with the warmth and security she felt with this man, she couldn't help but shiver when soft whispers of men shouting and the quiet clanging of metal on metal grew out of the shadows. Too soon, the whispers had grown in such volume that Éowyn could no longer deny that they were surrounded by a great battle, yet she couldn't see any other person in the darkness aside from the man standing next to her. Éowyn was a Shieldmaiden and loved the glory and valour of war, even though she herself had never been in a large-scale battle. She had however, been in her fair share of skirmish and had always found them to be rather exhilarating. Yet for some reason, maybe because it was the fact that this was the closest she had ever been in a 'battle' or because she couldn't see the people involved, the unseen battle in the shadows terrified her. She tried to close it all out, but there was no way to block out the screams of men meeting their fate.
It was at this point in the dream that the man beside her slipped his hand into hers and the moment his skin touched hers, the sounds of the battle seemed to fade away back into the shadows.
"I do not think this darkness will endure," he told her in a deep yet soft voice. The sound, more so than the words, comforted her more than anyone else ever had. She started to lift her head to look into his face, when the silver glow of Minas Tirith erupted to a startling brightness, challenging the red light of the East that had grown in brightness just as suddenly. The navy sky, the black field and the two people standing in it were suddenly engulfed in the two rivalling lights. As the two forces collided, there was a large explosion of light and a piercing, inhuman shriek that caused Éowyn to bolt upright in bed, shaking and covered in sweat.
As of yet, she had been unable find anyone to soothe her the way the man in her dream did. She knew she was being childish, but she found comfort in her fantasy. She almost wished that he were real and not just a figment of her imagination. Least then she wouldn't be alone.
No one to talk to
And no one to hold me
I'm not always strong
Oh, I need you here
She would give anything to have someone to turn to now.
Are you listening?
She would give anything to find someone who would be there for her. Someone to look after her and support her, but also someone who would give her the freedom to live her life the way she wanted. She wanted someone who could take her away from the despair she was living in everyday. She needed someone to give her the hope she needed so desperately now.
Éowyn gazed at her cousin who continued to lie still on the bed, breathing shallowly. She knew he was passed any healer's skill to heal and it frustrated her more than anything that she wasn't able to help him. She felt like she should be doing more that just waiting by his side. She felt so helpless and that was one thing she hated above all else.
As her frustration and anger rose, she found she could no longer sit by Théodred's bedside waiting for him to die. There had to be something she could do. There just had to be! She needed to be doing something to take her mind off it for a bit. She needed something to distract her from the seconds that seemed to drag by. Éowyn needed to get out of that room.
She needed some air.
Hear me
I'm cryin' out
I'm ready now
Turn my world upside down
Find me
I'm lost inside the crowd
It's getting loud
I need you to see
I'm screaming for you to please
Hear me
Lost and upset, Éowyn left Théodred's room. There were healers hovering not far from his door. They had refused to leave him in case his situation changed, but had offered Éowyn the privacy she had needed as she tried to come to grips with yet another tragedy. As she left, she heard one of the healers scurry into the room to take her place of watching over the prince.
Éowyn walked numbly through the darkened corridors of the once cheerful Golden Hall. The transformation over the last few years was astonishing. This was her home and in her childhood it seemed full of laughter and music, yet these days it was a lot more sullen. In a place where once she could always hear the soft chatter of someone somewhere in the Great Hall, her footsteps now seemed loud and booming in the silence.
It was in this silence that Éowyn managed to capture the whispers of a room that had left its door open ajar. Éowyn hadn't even noticed she was passing by her uncle's room until she heard his soft, tired, wheezing voice drift out into the hallway.
"Gríma . . . my son . . . my son . . . Théodred . . . Gríma . . . ?" the old man wheezed in a pleading tone.
"Rest, my liege," Gríma hushed. "It will soon be over. You'll see. In the morning everything will be fine."
White-hot rage suddenly erupted within Éowyn. How dare he?! How dare he?! How dare he say everything will be fine in the morning?! How dare that monster rush the King to bed when he should be by his son's side?! How dare that pathetic little worm that had bewitched her uncle, banished her brother and sent her cousin on the suicide mission in the first place seem to take delight in the face of such a tragedy?! How dare he?!
Éowyn need to get away. She needed someone to run to. Someone to let her grieve. Someone to help her make things right. Someone who knew what she needed right now. Someone who knew her, but she was alone. All alone. She was alone with the poisonous worm that terrified her more than any man ever had before. No one was there to run to. No one to help her. No one who ever really knew the real her.
She was all alone.
Fighting back a sob, Éowyn gathered up the front of her dress and bolted away from her uncle's room. Blinded by tears of grief, anger and frustration, she ran through the Golden Hall trying to get to the front doors as fast as her feet and lack of eye sight would allow her.
I'm restless and wild
I fall, but I try
I need someone to understand
Can you hear me?
It was all going to ruins. Everything she had known, prided herself on and was willing to die for was falling quickly into shadow and despair. Her brother who had promised to always be there for her was in exile. The man she loved as a father was declining further into his sickness with each passing day. Her people were losing faith with each riderless horse that returned home. The fields were no longer safe due to the free roaming orcs. And the White Wizard loomed more and more dangerously on their boarders. Black clouds rose from the Wizards Veil, signally an unknown danger and the doom of the people of Rohan. There was even talk of the Wild Men flocking to the White Hand. With Gondor focused on the threat of Mordor, Rohan was alone.
And now Théodred . . . And now Théodred . . .
Fresh tears fell from Éowyns' eyes as she bolted into the main hall and sprinted passed the Kings throne towards the doors. She couldn't stand it.
I'm lost in my thoughts
And baby I've fought
For all that I've got
She just couldn't stand it any longer.
Can you hear me?
BANG!
Éowyn threw open the front doors, unconcerned with the racket she was making so late at night, nor the fact that she cause the two guards who watched the front doors to jump and grab the hilts of their swords in alarm. Still crying, Éowyn only stopped running when she realised that another step would have sent her off the side of the edge of the stonewall that over looked the upper houses of Edoras. A small fire in the brazier near the edge offered no warmth as the cold night wind hit her, catching her hair and dress up in it, and stinging her tear moistened face.
Hear me
I'm cryin' out
I'm ready now
Turn my world upside down
Find me
"Lady Éowyn?" one of the guards said in a concerned yet uncertain voice but Éowyn ignored him and continued to stare challengingly out at the silver moonlit fields before her as the tears continued to fall. This had become a common sight for the White Lady to be doing now-a-days. She found herself spending more and more time perched atop the stairs of the Golden Hall, almost searching or waiting for the answer to all her troubles to come riding across the golden fields of Rohan towards her.
I'm lost inside the crowd
It's getting loud
I need you to see
I'm screaming for you to please
Hear me
Rohan had failed her and she in turn had fail Rohan. She did not know if it was the same in Gondor and in other part of Middle Earth, but it seemed as if her and her people were laying helpless, waiting for the final stroke of doom to end all their suffering.
Or would it just be the start?
Hear me
Hear me
Hear me
Éowyn was scared. There was a time and a part of her that would be more than willing to take up a sword and fight to end this evil, but now it seemed even that part of her had given into despair. She doubted anything or anyone would be able to raise her hopes now.
Can you hear me?
Éowyn felt utterly defeated and now all she wanted someone to rescue her and give her just a moment of hope, however fleeting. She wanted someone to take her in his arms and tell her that, like in her dream, he did not think this darkness would endure.
All she wanted was to be heard.
Hear me
Hear me
Hear me
All she wanted was to be rescued.
"Can you hear me?!"
Éowyn gasped for air after her sudden outburst and then broke down into large, shuttering tears. Her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the cold stones, startling the guards once again but despite their best efforts to console her, Éowyn remained weeping on the stone steps of the Golden Hall.
She was not aware that only a few hours away, on the very plains she had shouted at, four travellerrs – an elf, a dwarf, a wizard and a man from the North – had camped for the night, waiting for sunrise before continuing towards the capital. She was not aware that their arrival would spark a change in Rohan, a better change for the future.
She was not aware that the man from the North would bring with him hope that the people of Rohan desperately needed in their darkest hour. She was not aware that he would seem to bring to her what she thought she wanted.
Oh, oh, oh, oh...
She was also not aware, that even further away, a Captain of Gondor was huddling himself against the dark night as he sat up looking over the beautiful woodland of Ithillien on his watch duty. Before him, he could see the red glow of Mordor and if he twisted slightly in his seat, he could see the pale, silver glow that was Minas Tirith. However his eyes seemed only to care for the beauty of the wilderness and the heavens above. The sky was a cloudless, navy sea with large, silver stars that looked far more desirable than any jewel the earth could offer. It reminded the Captain very much of a mantel that had belonged to his late mother which was now folded away in a chest somewhere in his home in Minas Tirith.
He sighed deeply. Everything seemed so still.
He was used to the noises of unseen creatures lurking in the shadows of Ithillien. On his last watch, he had noticed a deer come close enough for him to kill it with his bow, though he did not even reach for his arrows. There were still plenty of stores left. No need to kill life needlessly. Yet tonight, the only noise belonged to the wind as it brushed through the trees. No animals stirred. No lonely night owls made a noise. Even the soft babble of noise from the camp seemed more hushed than normal. Everything seemed to be waiting.
And in a strange sense, mourning a great, unknown tragedy.
The Captain pulled his cloak tighter around himself as another gust of wind whirled through the trees. The man breathed deep and noticed that the wind carried, not the familiar sent of the woods around him, but rather the dry, dusty sense of open grasslands. Never before had he smelt such an aroma and it lightened his heart slightly in the troubled night.
Yet, he could almost swear that he could hear the wind whisper . . .
. . . Hear me . . . Hear me . . . Hear me . . .
THE END.