“Éomer! Éomer!” called Éowyn to her older brother as he jumped on his horse, preparing to ride away. He stopped and looked at her, her pale face flushed red from running and her long golden hair, with its speckled red streaks, flowing behind her.

He looked lovingly at his little sister. “What is wrong, Éowyn?” he asked. She looked shocked to him – shocked and trembling.

“Éomer,” she said choking back her tears, for fourteen-year-old girls do not cry. “I want to go with you, Éomer. I want to ride to the skirmish.”

Éomer shook his head. “No, Éowyn, not this time,” he said. “You must stay behind and care for Uncle Théoden.”

Tears filled Éowyn’s brave eyes. She couldn’t tell him about Grima’s advances on her, he wouldn’t understand. Yet, he might. She decided to tell him, riding on that hope that he might just understand.

“Éomer, wait. I have to tell you something. It’s very important.” Éomer looked on his pretty sister, smiling as softly as he could in his own gruff way. “Grima – won’t – leave – me – alone.” She let her tears flow as they choked her. “He – looks – on – me – always. I – cannot – get – him – to stop. He – he – he tries to touch me!”

The last sentence came out clearly, and a deep brotherly love roused nineteen-year-old Éomer’s anger. How dare that worm try to touch his noble sister! He picked up Éowyn and carried her gently to the Golden Hall, which wasn’t far from where they had been speaking. He laid her in her bed, for he could tell she was tired, and he sat at the foot of the bed, holding her hand and stroking it. She really was crying now, her eyes red and swollen. He waited until she was quiet and then spoke.

“Éowyn, as long as you’re my sister, I will not let that worm do anything to you. I promise.” She nodded, still sniffling but otherwise alright.

“How can you be s-sure?” she stuttered slightly, for her lips were chapped from crying.

Éomer stood up straight and tall, and proudly placed one hand on his heart. “You have my word as a man of Rohan, and as a brother,” he said. “Now, sleep, sister. You’re tired. Dry those wet, weary eyes! You will be fine. I will be back soon.”

And with that Éomer left, and Éowyn slept in peace, but wondered if any other older brother in Middle-Earth or anywhere else was as wonderful as hers.

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