In the Houses of Healing, Eowyn was met with many a maiden and soldier, to share in the long days of mending. The patients ate together, slept together, and grew bored together. Eowyn’s eyes grew accustomed to the details of the stonework near her bed, and the shape of the architecture of each doorway and window. When well enough to walk, it seemed her feet would carve tread ruts in the stone flooring. In the beginning her thoughts were vague and incongruent, but after a time they formed a long, thick river of fears and longing. She feared the outcome of a long and painful war, and she feared for the lives of those who still fought.
It must also come to attention that a third and perhaps less important fear also resided in Eowyn’s chaotic heart. How exactly was Eowyn to extend her father’s line? Now before the reader’s mind is swept up with the tumbling, browning, romantic leaves that lightly glide up to the image of a tall and distant Faramir, we must examine Eowyn’s thoughts preceding her encountering him. As a shield maiden of Rohan, it was Eowyn’s respectable duty to find someone able to accompany her in power after her father’s fall. Not many able men would be available after the war, as a large percentage of them must fall under the swords of the darker force. In fact it seemed the whole race, if not fallen under these swords, would be polluted with darkness, and the dynasties of Rohan might end. Or perhaps the dynasties of Rohan would be contaminated with the involvement of a lesser peasant. Although a tolerant and kind woman, Eowyn was brought up with noble prejudices all the same, and winced at the thought.
During these hours of contemplation, Eowyn would often be interrupted by a bubbling maiden who so happened to be cleaning the chambers for the night. Although at first irritated by appearances of nonsensical laughter and chatter, the girls of the Houses of Healing began to work on Eowyn, who was also sometimes a nonsensical maiden at heart. One working girl, Uruviel, was especially dear to Eowyn, and always gave her a smile. We will see how the two women met each other, and what sort of pair they made.
Eowyn, sitting on the rail of a gazebo, stared down at the golden trees of a courtyard. She was startled.
“As strong as you are, you are still fragile! Eowyn, oh superior Eowyn, please come down!” cried Uruviel, skipping up behind the now unstable Eowyn.
“Oh! How dare you surprise me like that? I nearly went to see my father.”
Uruviel, now bowing low and humbly, responded, “I am deeply sorry, Eowyn. I’m… here’s your pitcher.”
“My pitcher? You deal with pitchers! I deal with drinking.”
Now Eowyn realized the maiden was trembling, and felt she should make amends. Besides, what would the girl secretly do to her toiletries?
The fair White lady spoke, “I am sorry I was so harsh. You know the days have been dark lately. I’ll take that pitcher and pour you a glass, perhaps. Yes. Here’s one.”
Lifting up a glass and pouring in the fountain water, Eowyn smiled at the young girl, who was laughing lightly.
“Thank you, fair lady. I heard rumors of your bravery on the field, and I have been inspired to be more courageous in my own life as a result.” Uruviel innocently sipped the glass of water now in her possession.
“Really? Thank you for those kind words. Must I comment on your exceedingly handsome apron? And what hair! People comment on my golden hair, but I’ve always found darker hair to be reminiscent of passion and depth.”
“Well, I am in debt after hearing those kind words. I must elaborate now. I also find your whole family handsome, and noble, and I believe no other kingdom in Middle Earth to be fairer, and no other military to be more capable.”
“We will stop there, and call ourselves friends. After a certain amount of complimenting, people must become friends. It is only proper.”
Eowyn sat on a nearby bench, while the maiden took up a broom and swept the floor. A conversation full of compliments and acknowledgements of the fair weather ensued. When dusk appeared, the maiden said her goodbyes, and left to tend to supper. You see, Uruviel, empty in mind and groveling on the ground before all notions of royalty, made a perfect match for the proud and witty Eowyn. But Eowyn respected Uruviel and started to fancy her gossip, which increased by the day.
Three days after their first meeting each other, Eowyn and Uruviel found themselves sitting together on a step, watching the servants running to and fro.
“Have you seen Aragorn’s shoes? The rest of the man could be considered untidy, but his shoes are sometimes glistening in the sun like black cherries.” Uruviel commented randomly.
“I’ve seen Aragorn’s shoes. In fact, I’ve stared at them long and hard.” Eowyn frowned pettily and looked at her hands on her lap. “But those are old memories. And they’ll get older. And then now what am I left with?”
Uruviel raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I feel strange saying this now, and you might be surprised to hear it coming from a supposed shield maiden of Rohan, but… what if I am to be lonely? And not just lonely! It is tradition to carry on the royal line and, you know. Oh, how silly!”
At the moment Uruviel suddenly gasped and pointed at a soldier wobbling past them in ill condition.
“Alagrin was caught the other day groping Aearwen behind this very pillar, and I managed to intervene with my broom. Everyone knows Alagrin is engaged to Lanthirwen, whose family offered him a tidy sum of gifts and compromises. He is of low blood, and they were so kind as to compromise with him. I personally fancy his brother. I don’t know his name, though. I see him laying here and there, reading poetry. And then Alagrin comes along and talks with him and laughs with him, and I love to discern whose laugh is whose. Both are such distinct laughs!”
“Yes, well, yes.” Eowyn started brushing her hair. She grew melancholy and sighed.
“Were you saying something, Eowyn? I am so sorry.”
“Well, you see, I think it is nearly impossible for me to extend the line. Everyone is to be dead.”
“Such is not the case! Look at all these soldiers here.”
“I like people with limbs and healthy minds.”
“Well I’ll just search out someone healthy for you then. And of good quality.”
“How silly this is!”
“What is your definition of silly? Me? You’ll have to live with it.”
And so after more conversing about the architecture of the Houses of Healing and the strange sounds that were often coming from the battlefield, Eowyn went to sleep in medium spirits. On the one hand she was amused thinking about Uruviel scavenging for noble soldiers. On the other hand she seemed to have turned into a silly maiden just by permitting her to do so, or telling her that she was the least bit interested in men. But things were so boring and it seemed the world was in shadow, so Eowyn was left without the strength or patience to keep up with the cold, proud mask.
In the morning Eowyn was attacked by strange shafts of white and glorious light. These rays of fresh sun came from the window near her bed, and seemed to have intentions of leading Eowyn outdoors. Her long white gown – although only a sleeping gown – seemed to be radiant in the current lighting. Eowyn felt pretty and cheerful. She slowly stepped toward the window to enjoy the welcoming morning and brush her hair. Lo and behold, as she glanced sidelong into the courtyard, or hall, or whatever area surrounded by magnificent stone-fraught architecture that was, she discerned a handsome man. There are many handsome men, so Eowyn did not think much of it. She called out the window to start a light conversation.
“Good day to you! How is your arm?”
“Oh, it’s coming along. Only fractured in three places, instead of four.”
“That’s pleasant!”
“How is your…self? Excuse me, what injuries do you have?”
“Is it any of your business?”
“You’re the one who commented on my broken arm!”
“Well, I never!”
Eowyn grew tired of the dialogue and walked away from the radiant window. Besides, the sun was getting intense.
Uruviel again made her entrance with gossip and gasping, and also informed Eowyn of her brother wanting attention. When they reached Eomer, he put his feet up on a side table and fixed his face into the most cheerful fashion.
“Eowyn! You seem well! I am so delighted to see you walking freely again.”
“I’m mostly better, but I do have attacks every now and then, and so I need close monitoring. I’ll be out soon, though.”
“Wonderful. Dear sister, I am happy to tell you that – although the battle is over, we had little groups here and there that needed ruining – but most of them are now ruined! Be glad! And also, in a couple of months…if all goes well…Aragorn will be taking his position as king. Of course you are invited for this most harmonious celebration. So I hope you will be better by then?”
“When I mean soon, I mean definitely before a couple of months! And how do you know it is for certain – ”
Eomer’s countenance grew strong and serious. “Never say such a thing! Of course it can be… is is certain!”
Eomer then laughed and stood up to leave, saying goodbye and how he was only seeing how she had progressed, and that he had other matters to attend to. Right before he stepped out of the door, he added, “We will have a more serious talk near the day of the coronation.”
After he left, Eowyn laughed lightly, looked concerned for a moment, and then went to lunch. During lunch, Uruviel told Eowyn that although she hadn’t found any healthy, noble soldiers yet, she was still optimistic.
Eowyn replied, “No need for updating. Just tell me when you’ve found one, and that’s it.”
The days came and went, and Eowyn could not seem to rest. She was glad that the battle of Pelennor Fields was over, but looked at the darkening skies near Mordor with increasing despair. Even Uruviel seemed to have a longer face.
Eowyn sat looking in a vanity mirror on a cold, restless morning. People were starting to awake here and there, and the servants were on their routine. The reflection of grey, merciless skies seemed like a pond before Eowyn. In this dark pond, Uruviel and another girl, Aearwen, appeared.
Aearwen laughed and spoke first. “Eowyn, we come with good tidings.”
Uruviel, with a serious but twitching face, continued, “His bow is long.”
“He wears good shoes.”
“The starlight sometimes deviates in its path in order to seek his hair and glow within it.”
“And the starlight never fails to travel an extra distance, to reside in his eyes.”
“His eyes are like glints of Heaven.”
“If you took a sword, and slit the fabric of Heaven, and ethereal light shone throughout, it would be like his eyes.”
Eowyn sat back with raised eyebrow, controlling the urge to burst out in laughter. Her smile broadened with each line.
Uruviel again continued, “With broad shoulders he wears his cape, and it seems he rules twenty lands when he walks.”
“Golden stubble dots the landscape of his noble face, as do the white flowers decorate the meadows in May.”
Eowyn suddenly got tired and told the girls to stop.
“Who do you speak of?” Eowyn inquired.
“Actually, I don’t think we are telling.”
“What? You must!”
“No, I don’t think…not yet. Perhaps later. We do have a new dress for you, however.”
With suspicion, Eowyn set her brush on the table and glared at the two girls in the pond. With a smile, Eowyn arose and took the dress gladly.
Eowyn slowly asked, “And who is this from?”
“Your brother.”
“Ah.” With slightly damaged hopes, Eowyn turned around and went about her business.

To be continued.