Through the mirror of my mind,
Through these tears that I’m crying,
Reflects a hurt I can’t control.

Reflections

“Eowyn..” The softness of the voice calls me back to this world amongst the living. I almost wish I had not heard it, that I could have been struck down by that monster. The Witch King. The pain of this all was just too much and against the dark of my closed eyes I can see him falling again.

I almost cry out bitterly as I remember what has happened prior to this moment, but the harsh pinpricking of tears keeps me from saying a single word to the man whom had spoken my name. I know who it is, the voice was undeniable and even in this deep grief that has gripped me I cannot resist its call. How could I let go of the one thing I had left? My brother would need me, and I realise that as all the times before, I must be strong and return. For him. But for now, I rest and reflect on the battle that had been won for Gondor.

“No living man am I! You look upon a woman! Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you.” The words that had come from the Shield Maiden’s mouth surprised even herself as courage had left her. No hope had she, no more. It was snatched from her the moment that she had watched Theoden fall to the ground under the heavy metal of the mace. His skin was bruised, broken and torn, and it brought tears to her already glazed eyes.

War was harsh, and not until she saw someone she love perish within it did Eowyn realise what was to be lost. For that is what she was. The words that slipped from her lips as she held the bronzed blade with shaking hands had been filled with courage, yet she felt none. The black armour was like a shadow, something blocking out the sunlight. It chilled her blood, right down to her very soul and she felt on the edge of the brink that had haunted her dreams.

‘I dreamed I saw a great wave, climbing over green lands and above the hills. I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark in the abyss before my feet. A light shone behind me, but I could not turn. I could only stand there, waiting.’

But where was the light? Would it come? Eowyn doubted this very much as to her, it seemed light had abandoned the White Lady who had once been filled with so much of it. Where was her hope? Had it departed into the Dimholt Path? Or was it still waiting to show?

Eowyn dismissed each and every one of these notions, realising, as she looked into the cold dead eyes of the thing she feared, that she had no hope. All that was, was this thing and her. The battle fell away, leaving only a fragile young maiden with only a sword as her protection against the Witch King of Angmar. The laud calls of War fell upon deaf ears and all Eowyn heard was the deep breathing of the Witch King as he paused in thought of her words.

She could see his obvious surprise that this warrior who had dared challenge him was a woman, though Eowyn doubted he had much left within him to feel that much. Her hand began to shake viciously and the metal burnt at her feverish skin.

What had happened next passed in a blur and the next thing she knew, she was on her knees with her arm around Theoden’s broken body. Her other arm hurt, more than she could bear and she wanted to scream out as the black fire burnt her skin, leaving it withered and bruised. Beyond repair surely, but her eyes had caught sight of her uncle again and all pain was forgotten. And now she knelt beside him, tears falling freely from her eyes.

“I know your face…” Theoden whispered, voice still strong and noble, even in death. “Eowyn.” This brought a pained smile to her face. Her heart beat a little faster, knowing that this was the end for him. She wanted to deny it, yet to deny him this glorious falling would surely discredit his wonderful reign. But it still hurt to lose the man who had raised her and shown her love that no-one else had. “My eyes darken.”

Eowyn shook her head, a calm hand stroking his hair down softly as she countered his comment, though with hollow words.

“No.. No, I am going to save you,” she promised him, wishing not for his reply for she knew already what it would be.

“You already did. Eowyn, my body is broken. You have to let me go. I go to my fathers, in whose mighty company, I shall not now feel ashamed.” Theoden drew in a deep breath, not releasing it for a moment as if he was savouring it. His last. “Eowyn..” His chest gave one last heave as Theoden passed from this world and out of Eowyn’s life, the silver glass rolling back for him and revealing a far green country under a swift sunrise. Free at last.

But this did nothing to comfort the woman who held on to the former King as her own body was racked with bitter sobs, nothing able to move her from this despair. The last thing she remembered before feeling cold and dark was the tinge in her arm, though it was numbed by the pain in her heart…

I open my eyes to look up upon the face of my intended saviour, the shock clear within my hazy blue orbs as it is not Eomer’s face which I gaze upon, but Aragorn’s. I search deep within myself to ask the question that has plagued me since the moment the words fell from the ranger’s mouth. ‘It is but a thought and a shadow that you love. I cannot give you what you seek.’ I finally, though the decision is not easy to swallow, realise his words are true. He cannot give me what I seek, for every time I look into those warm eyes of a King, I see only her. The beautiful Undomiel, child from Rivendell, of what his heart speaks of. He is filled with her and I feel the smallest bit lighter knowing that all that fills my soul is curiosity. I wish to meet the elven woman that has brought joy to him in this dark time. I do not love this man, though my feelings run deeper than respect.

But time to question my hearts desire would come only if healing did. Yes, Aragorn has healed my body, proving his worth as King though I know he will not accept it until Sauron is banished from these lands. But other healing I need, and without it I will die. That is what I hear spoken to Eomer from Aragorn as he thinks I have fallen asleep once more. Slumber does beckon to me, though the words echo in my ears.

“I have healed her body but she will die unless other healing comes, which I cannot give.” I wonder, as my eyes close, if this wound will ever be closed…

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