A note: The plot line will continue to be a little bit book, a little bit movie, and a little bit me. I hope it hasn't been confusing so far!
Another note: I don't know about you, but I'm excited to see Marian reunite with the fellowship crew. :)
After giving his horse to the stable boy, Éomer made his way up the steps of Meduseld, carrying the woman in his arms. She had woken only once as they travelled, but just barely, and besides that she had been unconscious.
Éomer looked up at the great hall, feeling apprehensive. What would the king say about his rebellion? Surely, he thought fervently, surely he could make the king see what truth lay in Aragorn's words. The war to come, the beginnings of which they had already experienced, would not spare their people whether they decided to involve themselves or not.
He reached the entrance, resolutely avoiding the eyes of the guards and holding his head high as they opened the doors.
No sooner had he stepped over the threshold than Éowyn stood before him, as if she had been waiting in the shadow of a nearby pillar.
"Give her to me," she said quietly. Éomer looked over her head and saw his uncle at the end of the hall, hunched in his chair, and Grima, eyes flashing.
Éomer maneuvered the woman into his sister's arms as Gríma called for the guards. Éowyn looked at him gravely.
"I will do what I can, Éomer, but…" she shook her head. "These days my word counts for very little."
Éomer understood what was coming as the guards advanced. He gripped Éowyns shoulder.
"Just be safe. That is all I ask."
For only a moment, a trace of a smile lightened her serious expression.
"What is her name?" she asked, looking down at the woman's face.
"Uh, well-" Éomer caught the reproving look in his sister's gray eyes and almost laughed aloud as the guards drew level with them. She had reacted just as he imagined.
"I will take care of her," Éowyn promised, stepping back as the guards grabbed his arms.
As she disappeared into the shadows, Éomer looked up the hall at his uncle, noticing the triumphant expression on Grima's sallow face. Éomer steeled himself as the guards marched him to the foot of the dias, wondering how severe Gríma had managed to make his punishment.
Marian fought her way to consciousness, mouth incredibly dry and head pounding. She came to realize she was lying on a slightly lumpy mattress, tucked under a thick, dark blue blanket. A faint breeze trickled in through a nearby window.
Her throat felt like a desert. Wondering if she would even be able to produce sound with a throat like that, Marian breathed out, making a hoarse, yet audible noise.
"You are awake," a woman's voice said, relieved. Marian sat up so quickly her head spun, and the woman got up from her chair by the window.
"Careful," she warned, drawing nearer with a tray in her hands. "You are in dire need of food and water. I would not advise getting up just yet."
The woman set the tray down on Marian's lap, then stood next to the bed, watching her with a serious look. Marian snatched the cup of water, downing the whole thing. She started to reach for the bread when she felt the woman's gaze.
Marian looked up at her, taking in her grave, almost absentminded expression. She seemed to be deep in thought.
"Thank you," Marian rasped. The woman's eyes sharpened and focused.
"You are welcome. Tell me, what is your name? My brother, with all his great manners, seems to have forgotten to ask."
"It's Marian," she answered, voice slightly muffled through a mouthful of food. "So it was your brother I met?"
"Yes," the woman replied, a troubled look passing over her face. "Éomer. My name is Éowyn."
"Where is he now?"
Éowyn shook her head. "Imprisoned, for daring to stand up against Saruman. He was hunting a band of orcs, and I suppose at some point you two met."
Marian was thinking hard. "He said he had killed the monster," she remembered. "That must be one of the orcs you're talking about. But who's Saruman? And who imprisoned Éomer?"
Rather taken aback, Éowyn looked down at Marian. "How is it you do not know of Saruman?"
"I'm not from here," Marian answered, suddenly feeling very alone. Everyone seemed to know what was going on and where they were except her, and it was an unnerving realization.
Éowyn looked sympathetic as she took in the lost expression on Marian's face.
"Here," she said, pouring more water into Marian's cup. "Have some more food and water, and I will explain as best I can."
After what felt like hours, Marian was starting to get a grasp on the situation. Éowyn had sat down on the edge of the bed as she talked, explaining everything from Saruman and the war to the surrounding lands and the strange visitors who had come earlier that day.
A knock sounded softly on the door, and Éowyn went to answer it, cracking the door to speak quietly with the person on the other side. After a short conversation, she shut the door and made her way back to Marian's bed, looking to be in higher spirits.
"Wormtongue has left, my uncle is restored, and Éomer has been released!" Éowyn's face nearly glowed. "There is hope yet for Rohan."
Marian was certainly happy about that; Gríma Wormtongue had sounded like a slimy piece of work.
Éowyn clapped her hands together. "I will send someone to bring you clothes and help dress your hair for dinner- unless you would rather rest?" She looked questioningly at Marian.
"Absolutely not," Marian said empathetically. "Lately I've been unconscious more than I've been awake, and I miss seeing real people."
With a quick smile, Éowyn turned and hurried across the room, apparently anxious to see the king and her brother. "I will see you soon!" she called over her shoulder, and with that, she swept through the door and out of sight.