I awoke before dawn on the morning after the Riders departed, feeling completely exhausted. The remainder of that afternoon and evening had been spent taking inventories of what we would need to bring with us, ensuring that everyone in the city had started making their own preparations to leave, and finding out how many people would be unable to walk the distance, namely the very young children and the elderly. These would ride in carts along with much of the food and other supplies that the rest of us could not carry.

We still had some horses left to us, mostly the sturdier ones that would be used to draw the wagons and the ones too young to be trained to the saddle. The few riding horses would be used by several boys, old enough to have begun their sword-training but too young to ride into battle, who had enthusiastically volunteered to act as scouts. I had also decided to ride, in order to be able to move back and forth quickly and to ensure that no one was falling behind.

I had been so busy the previous day with preparing everything else that I had not yet packed my own things, so I threw some clothing and a few other small items that I deemed necessary into a saddlebag. I dressed in a simple tunic and threw on a sleeveless riding dress with a split skirt over top, then put on the mail shirt that my uncle had given me the day before over that. Next, I shoved my feet into a well-worn pair of riding boots and pulled my hair back into a thick braid. Finally, I put on a warm green cloak, clasped it with the horse brooch that my uncle had given me and took one last look around the room.

A few embers were still glowing in the hearth, and I poured some water from the pitcher beside my bed over top to extinguish them. My sword-belt lay on the bed, along with the dagger that I had grown accustomed to carrying. I glanced around again as I strapped the belt around my waist and picked up the sheathed dagger to attach it to the belt.

The small room was not built much differently than any other room in Meduseld, with stone floors and thick wood-paneled walls, and a narrow window by my bed. The walls were adorned with woven tapestries of horses and the golden sun that was the symbol of the kings. A small fireplace was built into one wall, with a few small things sitting upon its mantle. There was not much furniture: only a bed, a small table and chair, and a wardrobe. In spite of the simple furnishings, everywhere I looked seemed to have some reminder of my life in Edoras, from the treasured box that held a few of my mother’s prized possessions to the unsightly gash in the bedpost that I had made when I had foolishly tried to practice my sword technique in my room one time. This room had been my refuge ever since I had first come to live here; it had been the one place I could vent my frustration and grief, first when my parents had died and then in the long years during my uncle’s illness. I wonder if I will ever see it again, I thought as I reluctantly picked up my saddlebag and closed the door behind me.

The great hall was filled with activity as I stepped into the room. The household servants who had also been left behind—mostly women, of course—were transporting the essential items out the doors to the wains that waited outside. I had put Hanna in charge of the food, and she was preoccupied with ordering around the younger women who worked in the kitchen with her as they struggled to carry out the large barrels of food. I walked by as one of the girls, who had been walking backwards with her end, bumped a table and stumbled. I quickly reached out and caught her end of the barrel to keep her from dropping it; she steadied herself and thanked me with a small smile. I thought for a moment about seeing how Hanna was doing, but one look at her face decided me against it—clearly she was not in a good mood this morning. Everything seemed to be in order and I turned to leave. Just then I heard a woman’s voice shout, “Freda, slow down! You will trip someone!”

“Sorry, Mama!” a little girl crowned with waves of reddish-gold hair called out as she nearly collided with me. I reached out and gently grabbed her shoulders to slow her down and she looked up with a big grin. “Good morning, Lady Éowyn!” she said cheerfully.

I could not help smiling at her, though my smile was tainted with sorrow. The girl was only five, obviously too young to understand what was happening. I hoped earnestly that the journey would end well; she should not lose her innocent smile so soon. “Good morning, Freda!” I replied, picking her up as she laughed. “You are not causing your mother any grief, are you?” My smile grew brighter as she shook her head emphatically.

“Do not listen to her, Éowyn. If she keeps running about like this, I may lose track of her and leave her here,” her mother said with a smile and a little wink as she came up, a few mail shirts draped over one arm and a curly-haired little boy holding her other hand. I was determined that we could not be completely defenseless, in case the mountain passes were being watched. Every spare weapon or other gear of war left in Edoras would be coming with us, and Háma’s wife had volunteered to help me arm those that could bear weapons, since she knew a bit about them herself.

“Maeglith, you could not possibly think about leaving this sweet child here! Why, what would Háma say if he learned that his only daughter had been left behind?” I gasped in mock horror. Maeglith just smiled, and I looked at Freda. “You had best stay close to your mother, Freda. She will need you to help her watch after Freálaf.” She nodded solemnly, then her customary smile lit up her face again as I hugged her and set her down. “How much is left to carry, Maeglith?”

“The men took most of what was in the armory, of course, but there are still several spears and shields left. Swords, knives and some light armor too.”

I thought quickly. “The spears will be of little use if most of us are on foot, and few of us have the training to use them effectively. We will take them in one of the wagons as a last resort. Those that are able to bear arms could probably manage to defend themselves with the other weapons. The lads that are scouting will need to be armed in particular.”

“Of course,” Maeglith said. “We could give them first choice on what to carry, then divide the rest among the others. Some of the younger women that have no children to watch could manage knives or short swords as well.”

“True.” I paused. “Have you packed yet?”

“Yes, our things are waiting in the armory,” she answered. “We do not need to bring much; hopefully we will be able to return soon.”

“Yes, hopefully,” I murmured thoughtfully as she left, Freda trailing behind after quickly hugging me around my knees. I smiled briefly, then a dark cloud settled on my thoughts again. Could I even dare to hope that any of the men would return? The large orc parties that had been raiding our lands would more likely than not be only a fraction of the forces that would be sent against them.

Gríma’s dark predictions that I had overheard, saying that all of the men would be slain, crept into my thoughts once more. If Éomer had been right and he truly was allied with Saruman, surely he would be correct in this. I shuddered as I realized that this would be the kind of reckless hate that my people would be facing. How could I believe that Éomer and Théoden might be able to withstand it?

My spirits were lifted a bit as I thought of Aragorn and his companions. Obviously they were skilled warriors; from what little of their tale that I had heard through Éomer, I knew that they had already survived several battles where they had been sorely outnumbered. And I could tell that there was much more to Aragorn than it seemed. If anyone could help the people of Rohan through this battle, surely the heir to the throne of Gondor could.

I suddenly remembered my errand and started for the armory. Why do I care so much? I wondered as I walked. I had only met the man the day before and had barely spoken with him, and yet at that moment I felt more concern for his safety than for most of the men I knew and had spent my entire life with. I could tell from the little bit of time that I had spent with him that he was noble, and that he had spent three days and nights pursuing a far greater number of his enemies to save his friends showed his loyalty. But I could say the same things about Éomer or Théoden, or many others that I knew among the Rohirrim. Why then was it Aragorn who was foremost in my thoughts now, and not my own kin?

Eru help me, surely I cannot love him! The thought struck me as swift as lightning. It could not be…could it? And yet, what other explanation could there be, I wondered? He was everything I could imagine wanting in a man: brave, loyal, strong and handsome. And his coming, along with my uncle’s healing, had given me what I thought I had lost forever—hope. We had a greater chance of victory if Gondor and Rohan joined forces, and I knew that the hope of many of the men, my brother not least of those, had been renewed as they observed the future king of Gondor fighting alongside them. And now that the King’s health had been restored, perhaps I would finally have the chance to escape the gilded cage that Meduseld had become and do something more honorable than wait on tables and watch for the men to return. Perhaps I could finally find some happiness somewhere; perhaps, I thought, he would be the one to help me find it.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud clatter. I had unwittingly knocked some spears that had been standing by the door over onto some helmets lying nearby. Feeling annoyed at myself for getting lost in a daydream when there was so much to be done, I quickly picked up the spears and left.

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Before mid-day, all of the preparations had finally been made and the people were slowly filing down to the gate and out of the city. The scouts fanned out to the front and sides of the column, though they were careful not to stray too far from the main group. I had decided to stay in the back until I was certain that no one had been left behind.

Windfola snorted and pawed at the ground, anxious to leave. I rubbed his nose affectionately and he calmed a little. “I am sorry,” I whispered to him. “You were bred to be at the head of the battle, not a pack horse for a maiden.” The stallion nuzzled me as if accepting my apology. With a sigh, I slung the shield I had chosen onto my back, picked up a spear and jumped up into the saddle. The spear felt slightly awkward in my hands. Although Éomer had taught me how to use it, I was much more comfortable with my sword and touched the hilt of it to reassure myself that it would be there if I needed it. Then I signaled to Windfola and he began to move forward.

We walked slowly after the line of people. The group was mostly silent, although I could hear the cries of a few children who did not understand why we had to leave, and the murmurs of their mothers trying to comfort them. I could also hear a few grumbles here and there from some of the older men who had also been left behind, but chose to ignore them. We passed through the gate and some of the older boys who had stayed behind pulled it shut once the last of the people had passed through. I did not look back until we had gone past the barrows where the Kings of old lay. I could see Meduseld gleaming in the sun at the top of the hillside and the thatched rooftops of the houses surrounding it. A lump swelled in my throat, and I wondered why it was so difficult to watch my city shrink into the distance when all I had wanted to do for so long was to leave it behind. My heart felt heavy as I glanced back one last time to see the Golden Hall disappearing from sight, but I set my gaze before me once more; this journey through the mountains would not be an easy one, whether we were challenged or not, and I wanted to be ready for whatever might befall us.

A few young women who had found horses and had been willing to bear arms were riding to the sides and back of the column, allowing for the scouts to spread out further once we had left the city, and I moved Windfola towards the front. The first stage of the journey was uneventful, and it took all of my concentration to keep looking for any possible ambush, especially since my thoughts kept turning towards wondering if the men had already met battle—or, to my annoyance, wandering into daydreams involving a certain Ranger of the North.

When we were about halfway there, I called for a rest. After I picketed Windfola, I pulled a small loaf of bread out of my bag and began to eat it slowly as I wandered through the crowd aimlessly. I caught Maeglith’s eye and headed over to see my friend. Freda was sitting on the ground next to her, in a far less cheerful mood than I had seen her in earlier. “How much longer do we have to walk, Mama?” she asked as I approached.

“We have a little further to go, love,” Maeglith replied, breaking off tiny pieces of bread and handing them to Fréalaf to eat. She saw me coming and smiled briefly.

“But I do not want to walk anymore!” she complained.

“What about riding, Freda? You could come with me on my horse, if that would be more to your liking,” I offered, coming up behind her.

She jumped up and whirled around. I laughed to see how her face lit up. “Really? May I, Mama?” she asked, turning her blue eyes on her mother in a pleading glance.

Maeglith looked at me skeptically. “Will she be too much extra weight?”

“Not at all,” I answered. “I doubt that Windfola will even notice. He was bred to carry much more weight than I.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded her approval and Freda clapped her hands in delight and ran off to tell one of her friends that she was going to get to ride on “Lady Éowyn’s big horse.” Maeglith smiled. “That is very kind of you, Éowyn. She really looks up to you, you know.” I nodded, slightly embarrassed as she continued, “I just hope the dear child will not drive you mad with her chatter.”

“Oh, I do not mind. I enjoy the company,” I said truthfully. And having to keep my mind on her conversation will help to keep it off of Aragorn, I silently added, feeling slightly frustrated with myself. A warrior could not allow himself to be so distracted when so many people were depending on him; nor could I. I fell quiet for a moment, watching Maeglith play with her son. Without thinking, I suddenly blurted out, “Maeglith, may I ask you something?”

She pushed a strand of her dark golden hair away. “Of course, my lady.”

I felt a little foolish, but decided that I may as well continue. Maeglith was one of the few women in Edoras I considered enough of a friend to discuss things with that I could not talk about with Éomer or the other men. “How did you know that you loved Háma?”

Maeglith looked slightly taken aback at the question; I could easily guess that the slightly older woman had not expected such an inquiry from me. To her credit, she quickly recovered and replied slowly, “I think part of me always knew. Háma was friends with my brother Léofa when we were growing up, and I had always looked up to him like he was another brother. But then as we got older, something changed between us. Things were quite awkward for a time, until we both realized that we no longer thought of each other as brother and sister, but as something much deeper than that.” She smiled, her face coloring a little at the memory. “He spoke of it first; he was so nervous that he was not watching where he was going and walked right into a stable wall!”

I laughed at the thought of the normally composed guard being that flustered. “I am certain that it did not help matters that he probably could not take his eyes off you the entire time,” I could not help adding.

Maeglith laughed as well. “That is true.”

“Then you just knew?” I asked, feeling like I was no closer to getting to the bottom of my sudden interest in Aragorn.

She thought for a moment. “Love reveals itself differently to everyone, Éowyn. For me, it was something that grew slowly over time. For my sister, it happened suddenly when she first met the man whom she is now betrothed to, and he felt the same right away. Léofa also fell in love with his wife quickly, but it took her much longer to return it. It was not until my brother was wounded in battle and we thought he would die that she realized how much she cared for him.”

“It sounds as if there is no way to be certain then,” I said softly.

“What does your heart tell you?” she asked, her blue eyes searching my grey ones as if trying to find out who was causing me to ask.

“Nothing,” I answered quickly. Why did I say that? I wondered. Speaking to Maeglith about it had made me more certain that I did love him and that this was the reason that I was so distracted by him, yet something held me back from speaking of it. I just need more time to be certain—that must be it. This being decided, I added, “It was mere curiosity, nothing more.”

She smiled at me knowingly. “I can only speak from my own experiences, Éowyn, but the one thing I can tell you for certain is that love comes when you least expect it—and often from whom you least expect it.”

I nodded slowly. “Thank you, Maeglith.” Freda came back then, her eyes still sparkling with excitement. The other people were preparing to move on, so I took the little girl by the hand and led her over to Windfola as I called back to Maeglith, “Do not worry, I’ll take care of her.”

“I trust you,” she answered with a smile. “We all do.”

My face colored slightly at the unexpected compliment, and it was with some relief that I soon lost myself in answering Freda’s questions as I helped her onto Windfola’s back. As I pulled myself into the saddle behind her, I briefly wondered if this was a good idea; if we were attacked, it would be harder to fight with a child on the horse. I did not want to disappoint her, though. I will just deal with that if the time comes, I decided as we started moving again.