Two Roads

Éowyn clutched a shawl around her shoulders and knocked on the door.  She could hear scuffling from inside and then Blostma flung the door open.  A wide smile broke across her face when she saw Éowyn, and she ushered the girl inside.  “Sit down, sit down,” she said, gesturing towards a chair, “Tea?”

Éowyn sank into the seat gratefully – she had been up very late the night before with her Uncle and had slept badly.  She brushed the image of a burning hall from her mind as Blostma handed her a cup of hot liquid and sat looking awkward as Éowyn took a deep sip.  She sighed briefly and said, “Éomer said you were leaving, and I wanted to…”.  The older woman relaxed immediately, saying, “I thought I had grazed my sheep in someone else’s patch.”

Éowyn smiled at her and said, “When do you leave?” 

“In a two weeks.  Helm has built the house already so we need only gather our harvest and then we shall leave.  The preparations are keeping me busy now.”

“It is good that I came today then; with my Uncle’s condition I am not often free, I might not have seen you.”

Blostma was darning a pair of stockings but she looked up at Éowyn’s words, “Your Uncle’s condition, lady?”

“Yes.  His illness.  Surely you know of it?”

“Aye, lady Éowyn, but we are forbidden to speak of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is the law.”

“What?  My Uncle would never make so foolish a law.”

Blostma spoke very carefully, without meeting Éowyn’s eyes; “It was not the King who told us of it, but Grima Wormtongue.  He came to each house in the night, and warned that none should speak of our lord’s illness on pain of imprisonment.”

“Truly?  I, I am sorry Blostma, I was not aware that any such law had been made.  I shall speak with my Uncle.  But, Wormtongue?”

“It is what Helm names Grima.  He dislikes him.”

“It is a true name for him.”  Éowyn said, thinking of her own encounters with the unctuous counsellor, “Where are you going?”

“A small village in West Emnet, and not far from the Entwash.  Helm grew up there - he is to breed horses for Erkenbrand now.”

“He shall no longer ride?”

“He’s too old.”

“Théodred will be grieved.  Helm is one of his most faithful Riders.”

“And he shall lose Poldon as well.”

“Poldon?”

“He and Wynsum are moving with us.  Wynsum and I are friends since childhood Lady Éowyn, and since we, neither of us, have any kin, we have been like sisters.  Poldon is to serve in Erkenbrand’s éored.”

“Two of his finest Riders deserting him at once!  Théodred will be much displeased.”

“Really lady Éowyn?”

“No, I apologise, that was ill said of me.”

A silence fell between them and Éowyn finally said, “I heard about Magnus.  I’m sorry – was Modwyn all right?”  Blostma sighed and said, “She is now; that is what matters.  He was a goodly old man.”

“I never thanked you for that, but, it eased my heart to know he was in your care.”

“You were friends with his daughter were you not?”

“Yes, great friends.  I miss her still.  Will you keep Modwyn with you?”

“Aye.  She has kin in the Wold, so we shall be near them, but we all thought it better that she stay with us.”

Éowyn was about to say something when the door flew open, and the girl in question stumbled in.  Her long hair had been fought into a pair of thin plaits, but they had come half undone, with clumps of blonde hair sticking out.  A woman followed her more sedately, clutching a baby in one hand, a basket in the other, and calling out, “Be careful Modwyn”

The girl skidded to a stop in front of Éowyn and looked up at her with serious eyes.  Éowyn tried to smile, but she was unused to children, and said, “Hello little-one.  Do you remember me?”  Modwyn looked at her and after a long moment said, “yes.  You’re Éowyn – you gave me to Mama.  She told me.  Will I look like you when I’m old?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe – but I was a very ugly child, so I don’t think so.”

Modwyn folded her arms on Éowyn’s lap and said, “Well you’re not ugly now.  I don’t think so and I’m six.”  Éowyn was unsure what to say, and looked up to see Blostma shaking with silent laughter.  Modwyn turned and said, “Just because I can’t see you Mama doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re laughing.”  She walked over and pulled herself into her mother’s lap, her legs kicking out awkwardly. 

Éowyn looked at Wynsum and was relieved to discover that she felt no enmity towards her.  Nor was she congratulating herself on her better looks – she felt only friendship towards her.  Wynsum was laughing as she said, “Your daughter is full of energy today Blostma – might I ask what you are feeding her?”  She smiled at Éowyn and said, “How are you Lady of the Mark.  It is long since I have seen you.”

“I am well freocwene Wynsum, but who is this?”  Wynsum laughed, and said, “This is my menace.  We call him Leofwine.”  She moved closer so that Éowyn could see the babe, and Éowyn could not keep back the words, “Oh Wynsum he’s beautiful!”

“Would you like to hold him?”

“Are you sure, I’ve never held, I mean I don’t know much about babies”

“They don’t break too easily.”  Wynsum said, placing the babe in Éowyn’s arms, and moving them so that they supported his head.  Éowyn found herself completely entranced by the little boy she held – his tiny hands with their delicate little nails, his tongue that sat so soft in his mouth, the fine hair on his head.  He looked up at her and laughed, gurgling in some mysterious happiness.  She found herself talking to him, “Hello, hello darling, look at you.”  She kissed the tip of his tiny nose and he smiled at her.  Wynsum’s voice broke the spell as she said, “Have you any thought to marry Lady Éowyn?”

She looked up, slightly embarrassed, both at the question, and at cooing over Wynsum’s son, “No.  There is no one, and even if there were I must stay with my Uncle.”  Blostma cleared her throat; “I have heard it said that Wormtongue seeks an alliance with the House of Eorl.”

Éowyn felt a knife twist in her gut – surely not.  She felt sick at the thought.  Marriage to him!  To that loathsome toad!  Shivers ran through her at the throat, but she said only, “Well if he does, I have certainly heard nothing of it.  But I would not be minded to accept his suit in any case.”  She hoped things would not come to such a pass; always she assumed that Grima’s, she would not call it pursuit, it was subtler than that, but behaviour towards her, had tended only towards his hope to conquer her body; were it to be something more she did not think she could bear it.  Blostma said, “Lady Éowyn are you all right?”

“Yes.  Forgive me – a passing faintness.  I will be fine in just a moment.”

Wynsum took the baby from her arms, and the two women started to talk.  At first Eowyn ignored them but she found herself being drawn into their conversation.  Wynsum said, “Know you that Claennis has plans to come here?”

“Truly?”

“Aye.  None will keep her in Buhr Mahling now and she has no brother – I hear she hopes to find some employ here.”

“Poor woman – forced to leave her home.”

“Perhaps, but if she had known better she would not have to.  She should never have spoken of it.”

“She may have been more sinned against than sinning Wynsum.”

“Perhaps, though that is not the tale I was told.  It is no wonder her cousin flung her from his house – if what Besyrwan claims is true I am merely surprised he did not do so sooner.”

Éowyn was about to stand and make her apologies when she heard a pounding on the door.  Blostma let Hama in and he gasped out thanks before saying, “Lady Éowyn I have had a time of it trying to find you.  You are needed urgently in the Hall.”  She stood and nodded at Blostma and Wynsum, “I may not see you again before you go, so let me wish you luck”.  Both women curtsied, Wynsum a little awkwardly loaded as she was with Leofwine.  Éowyn looked back as she left the house and saw Modwyn wave at her.

She looked at Hama and said, “What has happened?  Has the King been taken ill?”  Hama shook his head, “I do not know Lady Éowyn.  Grima came to me, saying that you must be found urgently, that your Uncle desired to speak with you, but he said not why.”  Éowyn pondered his words for a moment and said, “Have any messengers arrived?  Is it possible that…” her throat closed over the last words and Hama shook his head once more, “No Lady Éowyn it is nothing like that.”

She sighed with relief as they reached Meduseld, and said, “Thank you Hama.”  She made her way to her Uncle’s chambers, where he was to be found more and more now.  Knocking on the door she entered, panting a little.  Théoden looked up and smiled at her, and for a moment she could almost believe that he was as he had once been, but then he put a hand to his mouth and coughs racked his chest, and she knew that no miracle had occurred.  She had poured him a soothing drink and made him consume it before she realised that Grima was in the room – hanging back in the shadows.

Théoden looked at her and said, “Sit before me child.”  She knelt before him, and he said, “What think you of marriage sister-daughter?”  She swallowed and said, “It is an honour I think not of Uncle.”  He slapped his knee and she leant back a bit in shock as he said, “I knew it I; Grima here was convinced that your thoughts tended in that direction…he said that there is a particular fellow?”

“Did he?  Well Hala Grima is mistaken – my only desire is to serve you as best I can Uncle.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes.  Of course.”

“That is well Éowyn.  I have no desire to give you up yet.”

“I am glad Uncle.”

Grima spoke for the first time, “Might I speak with you lady Éowyn?”  She stood and bowed to her Uncle, then said, “Of course, Hala Grima.”  She followed him into the corridor, closing the door carefully behind her.  Grima turned around, and suddenly she realised that he was furious; “Why did you take so long?”

“I was visiting a friend Hala Grima – it took Hama some time to find me that is all.”

“Do you care so little for your Uncle’s health that you go wandering about Edoras when you are needed here?”

Éowyn wiped a fleck of spittle from her cheek, attempting to hide her distaste, and said, “I was not needed.  My Uncle is well at this moment; I fail to see the reason for your displeasure Hala Grima.”

“Had you been here only a few moments earlier…”

“Nothing would be any different, my mind would not have changed in the space of a few seconds.  Since my Uncle is better than he has been I must ask you to cease this questioning.”

“How dare you speak so to me?”

“You forget your place counsellor.  I will hear no more of this.  But it puts me in mind that I have questions to ask of you, Hala Grima.  What is this law forbidding talk of my Uncle’s health?”

“I passed it Lady Éowyn to prevent ideas from entering men’s minds, as they will when a sovereign is in poor health.”

“Since the succession is assured Hala Grima there is no danger that ‘ideas’, as you put it, might take root.  Why was this law not debated in council?  Why did my Uncle fail to mention it even to his son?”

She had never seen Grima so furious and she realised, belatedly, that she had been speaking louder and louder as their conversation progressed.  She straightened her shoulders and looked up at him, and suddenly he grabbed her shoulders, saying “This is not your concern lady Éowyn, do not interfere…”

Before Éowyn knew what was happening Hama had grabbed Grima’s shoulder, and sent him flying into the wall.  He stood above the counsellor with a drawn sword, saying, “How dare you lay hands on lady Éowyn, I should slay you where you stand.”  His blade touched Grima’s neck, and the counsellor whimpered.  Éowyn laid her hand on Hama’s wrist, saying, “Peace Hama.  It is over now.”  He stepped back and said, “Of course, Lady Éowyn.  Be glad she interceded on you behalf, worm.” 

As Hama walked away, keeping them in sight, Éowyn knelt beside Grima, where he lay, gasping for breath.  She spoke softly, “I have warned you once already.  Do not force me to warn you again, or I swear, it shall be my blade that cuts your throat.”

She turned from him, and did not see him stand slowly, a satisfied smile spreading over his face, for she was following Hama.  The doorward stood at his post, his sword hand strained over his hilt.  She smiled at him and he nodded.  She spoke first, “Thank you Hama,”

He looked at her and said, “You need not thank me, my Lady.” 

“I know, and yet I thank you still.”

“I mislike how he treats you Lady Éowyn.  You are not a chattel to come and go at his call; your brother does not see it, but I do, and Lady Éowyn I wish you would protest.”

She looked at him a little sadly, and wondered how it was that she knew so much more of what was politic than he, but she said only, “The time is not yet ripe Hama.  Still, I would have you this token, as a sign of my gratitude.”  She gave him a handkerchief, and he looked at her confused, “I can not give anything in return for such service, but I would have it known that you have my favour.”

“My lady, I am not worthy of such…”

Éowyn laughed and said, “Do not fear Hama; tis only a gift of gratitude.  Now take it, and keep it in good health.”  He bent and kissed her hand, and she left him; she must ponder over what she had learnt this day, but first she would tend to her Uncle.

Author's Note

The title is a reference to the Robert Frost poem "The Road Not Taken":

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.