First Person (entry type): I had sought death and glory in battle. I had watched my beloved King and Uncle perish before my eyes, and longed for the moment when I too, will no longer linger in this world and join him. I had destroyed that which no living man could ever hope to destroy - what more could they ask of anyone, more so a woman? Surely renown will be mine, now. I should have perished with honor.
And yet I still breathed. Lord Aragorn had saved me, pulled me back from the clutches of death. Did he truly not know what I wanted? Perhaps not. And yet I could not find it in my heart to loathe him.
How could I?
The day grows dim and my eyes, tired. Curse this weakness! Curse these wounds! For now I shall sleep and regain my strength, and tomorrow I shall demand for the warden to let me go. I have been idle for too long.
Third Person:
The beacons are lit! said Lord Aragorn. Gondor calls for aid!
And Rohan would answer, Théoden King had said.
Truly, in that moment Éowyn had never been prouder of her Uncle, and her people. Here they were, barely recovered from the assault of the enemy - and now this! Death called them once more, its threat alive and pulsing, and yet fear it not they did.
And in the midst of all the activities of men preparing for a hard journey and a cruel battle, she had made her decision. The last battle had seen her hidden and waiting. This she would not allow to happen again.
"My brother asks for a second set of armor," she said to the one in charge of the battle suits. He was but a child, several winters younger than her. Surely she would have no trouble here. "I am to deliver it to him."
He looked startled, and for a second did not seem to know what to do, what to make of her request. Éowyn lifted her chin and glared. "Quickly, lad. Do you desire to be the cause of his delay?"
And soon, the second set of armor was handed to her. "It's not much, my lady. I fear I only have the ones made for soldiers, not--"
"This would do," she replied, testing the suit's weight in her arms and finding it acceptable. "Yes. This would certainly do." Éowyn nodded and turned, ready to leave the armory, when she felt eyes on her and she looked to find Gamling staring at her with a grim expression on his face.
"My lady," he said with a slight bow. His lips thinned, but he kept them shut.
At once she knew what he was thinking. "Have you something to say?" she dared him.
He stepped closer, his eyes still on the suit. "Surely Lord Éomer would require something stronger, more worthy of him. If he is looking for one, that is, aside from that which he already wears." The doubt in his tone spoke volumes, but Éowyn would not falter. She refused to.
"No," she said, already moving towards the door. "There is no need for that. He will wear this with pride, and honor, like all the other riders of Rohan will. There is no shame in a soldier's simple suit."
"But, my lady--"
Éowyn paused, and turned. If Gamling were to tell her brother or her King, then this would be over. Perhaps she wouldn't even be allowed to ride with them to the encampment. No! Banish the thought.
"Speak of this to no one," she said. An absolute order from the niece of Théoden King.
Éowyn | The Lord of the Rings | Reserved | 5/5
And yet I still breathed. Lord Aragorn had saved me, pulled me back from the clutches of death. Did he truly not know what I wanted? Perhaps not. And yet I could not find it in my heart to loathe him.
How could I?
The day grows dim and my eyes, tired. Curse this weakness! Curse these wounds! For now I shall sleep and regain my strength, and tomorrow I shall demand for the warden to let me go. I have been idle for too long.
Third Person:
The beacons are lit! said Lord Aragorn. Gondor calls for aid!
And Rohan would answer, Théoden King had said.
Truly, in that moment Éowyn had never been prouder of her Uncle, and her people. Here they were, barely recovered from the assault of the enemy - and now this! Death called them once more, its threat alive and pulsing, and yet fear it not they did.
And in the midst of all the activities of men preparing for a hard journey and a cruel battle, she had made her decision. The last battle had seen her hidden and waiting. This she would not allow to happen again.
"My brother asks for a second set of armor," she said to the one in charge of the battle suits. He was but a child, several winters younger than her. Surely she would have no trouble here. "I am to deliver it to him."
He looked startled, and for a second did not seem to know what to do, what to make of her request. Éowyn lifted her chin and glared. "Quickly, lad. Do you desire to be the cause of his delay?"
And soon, the second set of armor was handed to her. "It's not much, my lady. I fear I only have the ones made for soldiers, not--"
"This would do," she replied, testing the suit's weight in her arms and finding it acceptable. "Yes. This would certainly do." Éowyn nodded and turned, ready to leave the armory, when she felt eyes on her and she looked to find Gamling staring at her with a grim expression on his face.
"My lady," he said with a slight bow. His lips thinned, but he kept them shut.
At once she knew what he was thinking. "Have you something to say?" she dared him.
He stepped closer, his eyes still on the suit. "Surely Lord Éomer would require something stronger, more worthy of him. If he is looking for one, that is, aside from that which he already wears." The doubt in his tone spoke volumes, but Éowyn would not falter. She refused to.
"No," she said, already moving towards the door. "There is no need for that. He will wear this with pride, and honor, like all the other riders of Rohan will. There is no shame in a soldier's simple suit."
"But, my lady--"
Éowyn paused, and turned. If Gamling were to tell her brother or her King, then this would be over. Perhaps she wouldn't even be allowed to ride with them to the encampment. No! Banish the thought.
"Speak of this to no one," she said. An absolute order from the niece of Théoden King.