Ch. 6 - "You are not alone!"

Holdlith entered Éowyn’s bower.  She drew a deep breath.  She knew that the times spent in this room were not always the most fond memories for her dear friend, but she sensed a change in Éowyn and thought that those memories would not have the power over her they once did.   Waerith came from the bathing suite where she had drawn a hot bath for her lady, whom she had not seen since before the abandonment of Edoras.  She had left to see family in Aldburg, a necessary visit, but not a day passed since the separation from her lady that Waerith did not worry.  She had not gone to the gates to see the returning army; she wanted to make sure everything was just so for her lady. Holdlith asked, “Is everything ready?” 

“Aye! Everything is good.”  

“Shall I leave you two alone?”

“No, my friend.  It is a joyous time for us all.  Please stay!”  She reached out a hand to her friend and longtime co-conspirator in Éowyn’s care.  Holdlith returned the gesture and smiled. They would wait in Éowyn’s bower together where in this private space they could hug and cry and talk in relative peacefulness.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Éowyn left the stables after composing herself to find Holdlith.  She had so much to tell her but a boisterous celebration at the gates was not the proper place for such reportings. She started for her bower, thinking that would be the most likely place.  The worry that had sat upon her heart for so long was hard to dispel though she was at last home.  She needed quiet after the tumult of travel and joyous welcome. She walked down the hallway that led to her bower.  So many times had she walked this way, in childhood happiness, in coming back from a strenuous but happy training session with her cousin and brother, then later in duty living a life of quiet desperation as Chatelaine of her uncle’s household to cry tears of frustration into her pillow after Waerith had left her for the night.  Waerith, she thought, where was she? Was she safe?  Still in Aldburg?  Her heart ached with the unknowing.

She reached her bower and the most blissful sight greeted her eyes, “Waerith!  You are here!!  You are not dead somewhere lost to me!  Oh my dear, dear Waerith!”  She ran into her maid’s arm, crying once again, but this time they were tears of joy. They flowed unabated for the duration of the first hug.  

Éowyn pulled away to look at her lady’s maid and friend.  She looked a little worn but then so did all.  The war had not only scarred the wounded. “You are here!  You cannot know how much I have worried everyday for you!”

“My lady,” Waerith stated, her eyes misting once again.  “I have been well.  Aldburg was not in the direct path of the fighting, thankfully.”  Éowyn breathed more easily as the bands of worry for her maid’s safety that had held a portion of her heart began to loosen.  Waerith was well, unhurt and stated matter-of-factly, “I have run a bath for you, my lady.”

“Hmmm?” Éowyn replied, stirring from her own inner monologue.

“Your bath.  It is waiting…”  

“Aye, Waerith. Of course.” A statement she had heard so often in her life but almost not at all within the last months.  A most surreal moment.  

She sat in the steaming tub scented with rosewater and as her mind began to let its guard down allowing the water to wash away sorrows and regrets.  She sat as she soaped her hair.  She reflected on Gamhelm’s words earlier in the stables.  If she had not gone, what would she have missed.  Her entire life came the thought.  What she had learned about herself on the ride south.  Faramir.  This was her life now because of her actions.  She smiled and within those moments she forgave herself for not being the perfect chatelaine and for not ever wanting to be.

“Waerith!” she called, “More water, please.”  As Waerith poured the warm water over her hair, rinsing out the soap, Éowyn stated, “Have I got an adventure to tell you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Holdlith sat listening to Éowyn’s unravelling tale as all three were gathered on the small balcony of Éowyn's bower cups full of spiced mead.  She knew the bare bones of it; she knew what her vision had told her but the images were only portions of the future, salient to be sure, but Éowyn was giving her vision shape and depth.  Éowyn looked at her with a question that cut through her with its sharpness.  “Did you know that my Uncle was to die?”

Holdlith looked up in Éowyn’s sharp blue eyes.  She did not flinch and did not lie, “Aye! It was what my vision showed me!”

“And you did not tell me?” Éowyn whispered, incredulity wrapping her words.

“No.” came the firm answer. Éowyn looked a little shocked at the strength of the answer.  “I could not.  You could not know.  You had a destiny to fulfill and the choice had to be made by you without foreknowledge.”

Éowyn looked at her, “How could you not have told me? Did you not think it was my right to know?”  Angry and betrayal evident in her voice.

Holdlith held her gaze as the betrayal in her lady, her friend’s troubled and hurt eyes wounded her soul,  “There is no way to excuse what I did and the decision that I made so I will not try to explain them away.  All I will say is that you needed to find your own path.  I have always told you that.  I have always encouraged you to answer that call.  It was the only way to find yourself which is all I have ever wanted for you.”  Holdlith paused, continuing to look her friend in the eye; her heart shredding at the doubt she saw there.  “Aye, I withheld the knowledge of your uncle’s death.  One should never have definite knowledge of the death of a loved one.  That is a burden too great to bear.  I could not do that to you.”  Still she saw doubt and judgement in her lady’s eye.  “I will say one last thing and then I will leave your presence.” Shock then appeared in Éowyn’s eyes. “Had you known, would you have acted as you did?  What would have changed?  Would it have been for the better or worse?  I acted as my heart and my vision made clear that I must.  I bitterly regret the pain in your eyes that I have caused.” She bowed her head formally and rose to take her leave.

Éowyn sat stunned at the last moments of revelation as she watched her dear friend walk out the door.  She looked at Waerith in supplication.  The older woman shrugged and then cast her eyes downward.  Éowyn sat in shock, her mind spinning at the revelation.  She knew one thing though, she could not let Holdlith leave, no matter what her actions had been.  She had lost too much already.  She walked quickly to the door and called to the retreating woman.  “Holdlith, do not go.” The old lady stopped, “Stay. Whatever I may think, my heart cannot allow you to leave.”  Holdlith turned around and Éowyn saw the torment in the older woman’s eyes.  Éowyn ran the few steps to hug the older woman and sobbed, “I am sorry.  I understand that you did what you needed to do.  Forgive my harshness.  It has been a very hard time for all.”

Holdlith’s soul knit itself together as she saw joy behind her lady’s tears.  Remembrance flared within her mind as they walked the few steps back to the bower.  “That was not all that I hid though the other was because you would not hear tell of such,” Holdlith confided.  “So insistent were you that you did not look for love…” She smiled a knowing smile, patting Éowyn's arm.

Éowyn blushed as she thought of Faramir. “You knew.  And you did not say!” she accused yet again but now there was joy in her voice.

“Aye, I saw blue eyes that looked at you with such love that it warmed my heart.”

“You did not say!” said Waerith who had been silent during the heartfelt words spoken between the two.

“It had not come up.”  Holdlith stated to her old friend.  She turned a knowing look upon Éowyn who once again blushed. "Tell me of the man with blue eyes filled with love."

“His name is Faramir.  We met in the Houses of Healing.  He is brave and kind and wonderful-”

“And Steward to the King…” Éomer stated from the door, “Did she fail to mention that?”  He pushed his shoulder off the doorframe to enter the room.  “So this is where you have gotten yourself off to!”  He walked over to his sister and kissed her on the forehead. “I had wondered.”  He nodded to Waerith.  “Very happy to see you, Mistress Waerith!  You cannot know how my sister has worried after your health and safety.”

“Thank you, my King!”  

Éowyn once again noticed the slight wince on her brother’s face when Waerith used the honorific.  She needed to make time to speak with him later.  Placing that thought in the back of her mind for the moment she quipped smiling.  “I needed to spend a little time with my ladies.”

“Of course!” he said, all gallantry and cheer filling his voice, sweeping aside the brief pain that had flared.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that evening…

After the simple evening meal in which cheer and fellowship flowed supplanting the need for a sumptuous fare, Éowyn found herself in Éomer’s chambers.  She sat drinking from a silver goblet filled with wine that her uncle had always had a penchant for.  Éomer sat as Wulf was astride one leg as he was pulling off his lord's boots. After Wulf finished that task and was busily laying out his lord’s sleeping attire Éomer stated, “That will be all for tonight, Wulf.  It has been a long day and you should seek your rest.”

Wulf stared at his lord somewhat confused. “But, My King.  I have not yet finished my duties."   

Éowyn again noticed the wince and saw her brother rein in a sharp reply with a sigh, “Wulf, I wish to be alone tonight. If you would,” he added as gently as he could.

Wulf’s face held a bewildered look but he acquiesced, “Aye, My King.”  The boy nodded, fist on heart and gathered the discarded clothing to be tended. 

Éowyn watched as Éomer sat stoically swirling his wine in the silver goblet. She could feel the maelstrom of emotions just below the surface. “Am I to leave as well.” She asked quietly.

Éomer tossed back the last of the swirling wine and rose to refill his goblet from the decanter on a side table. “No, please stay.  I do not wish to be alone.”

“Shall I call Wulf back then.” Éowyn replied knowing the statement would goad her brother. He would tell in his own time, but sometimes he needed a prod or two.

“No!” came the overly sharp tone, Éomer stopped himself then said “I love the boy dearly, but I could not stand anymore fussing.  Please, stay!”  Éowyn nodded and simply waited and watched her brother.  He stood at the small table staring at the goblet.  He took in a deep breath. “Wulf served me with this goblet tonight.”   Éowyn looked at the goblet and realised with a start that he held in his hand the goblet that has always resided in Théoden’s hand as a matter of course. “No explanation, he just handed it to me.”  He rubbed his face with his free hand.  “My King!” he stated in a voice tinged with regret, “I keep hearing it.  And out of instinct I almost turn around to look for Uncle Théoden." Éomer's face was distorted by pain. "Then I remember he is dead and it is me they are speaking to.” Doubt and anguish colored his voice.  He turned to Éowyn and his earnest blue eyes were tormented. “He is gone and I am just expected to carry on in his stead.  How can I when my heart breaks anew every time I hear ‘My King’?”

Éowyn stood up and placed her goblet on the table next and wordlessly hugged her brother, his silent tears wetting her hair and face.  They stayed motionless for several minutes.  Finally they broke apart.  Éowyn looked into his reddened eyes though the tears had already stopped and a stoicism bred into both of them was quickly growing in his eyes.  “You will because you must.  But you are not alone.”

~*~*~*~*~