The Shadow Walker

73. Galadhrim...and Friend

"My lord!" came a peeved woman's voice from the entrance. Boromir strode into the armory, despite the bandages showing through the open front of his shirt. Èowyn followed after him, holding her skirts up as she struggled to keep up with him. "My lord, you cannot fight."

Èowyn caught his wrist, holding him back. Boromir stopped and turned to face her, suddenly bringing them very close. In a soft voice, he said, "I must."

Fear sparkled in Èowyn's eyes. "But, in this state, if you go into battle...your life will be forfeit."

"Can you not see?" Boromir whispered, his expressioned lined with grief. "My life is already forfeit. Three, I have utterly failed to protect; yet the gods have allowed them to live. What life I have left, I must use to redeem my honor."

I glanced at Aragorn, catching his gaze. "The rascals?" I asked, afraid to hope.

He nodded. "Alive."

I breathed a sigh of relief and joy, but my attention was drawn back to Èowyn and Boromir. He tried to pull away, but but she didn't yield her grip on his arm. "You are not honorless, my lord. Nor are you battlefodder. You are the son of the Steward of Gondor."

Boromir scoffed and sharply tugged free of her grip. Walking away, he muttered, "My title means nothing here."

Èowyn made no move to chase him, just gazed after him for a moment, her eyes full of sadness.

"My lady Èowyn?"

Èowyn turned to to face Kèolyn, who wore a loose-fitting shirt and trousers, and a set of chainmail. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and she carried a helmet. Èowyn's eyebrows shot up, and she said, "Yes?"

"Will you be fighting with us, my lady?" Kèolyn challenged.

Èowyn hesitated, glancing after Boromir, then at us. At Aragorn, to be precise. Her eyes hardened, and lifting her chin, she turned back to Kèolyn. "Yes. I am."

Surprise registered in Kèolyn's eyes, but she masked it a split second later. Holding out her hand, she said, "You are most welcome among our ranks."

Èowyn clasped Kèolyn's hand in a firm handshake. "Tell me, where might I find some trousers?"

Kèolyn flashed her a devilish grin. "Right this way." Turning on her heel, she marched through the crowd of staring Men, with Èowyn hot on her heels.

Aragorn sighed sharply when they were out of sight. "I should have stopped her."

I snorted. "Didn't you see the look she gave you? That was a, say something, I dare you glare."

"Eda is right," Legolas added. "She agreed to spite you. If you'd lifted a finger in protest, she would've been too eager to prove how little influence you have over her."

Legolas supporting my position? That was unexpected. Thank you, I mouthed to him. He smiled and nodded.

Aragorn huffed. "I don't understand. I'm not trying to influence her; I'm trying to help her."

Shaking my head, I said, "Don't you get it? She has a crush on you the size of Emyn Muil."

Legolas smirked, and Aragorn glared at me. "What do you call that?" He motioned to where Èowyn and Boromir had confronted each other.

"That, my dear, is called having two crushes at once," I answered. "And if I had to guess, Èowyn has recognized she has a better chance with Boromir, so she's denying everything until she can put her feelings for you to a bloody death."

Aragorn winced. "That...that doesn't make sense."

I rolled my eyes. "That's only because you're not a girl. I'll bet any girl would know exactly what I'm talking about."