On the Wings of the Storm

Chapter 9

"You've caused quite a commotion, haven't you!"

I looked up in surprise, for I had not heard Éowyn come in. But then she had the habit of knocking on my door and entering straightaway, without waiting for an answer.

"It wasn't intentional," I replied, unable to keep the defensiveness out of my voice.

She laughed, and sat down on my bed. "Oh, I know. But what a shame I missed seeing you shoot that fox. Théodred said it was spectacular."

Spectacular! When I had been utterly terrified. Some things Éowyn and I would never see eye to eye on. "How is Ceolwen?" I asked.

"Asleep. Master Aethelstan says she will be fine in the morning."

A great weight dropped from my shoulders. "I am so relieved."

Éowyn frowned down at the gown I had laid out ready on the bed. "What is this? You can't wear that."

"Why not?" I asked, holding it up so it fell in soft brown folds to the floor.

"Haven't you got something more festive?" Without asking for my leave she got up and started to look through my clothes chest. Éowyn herself wore white as usual, a dress with long sweeping sleeves and the skirt embroidered with tiny seed pearls.

"Now this is more like it," she said, pulling out the dress I had buried at the bottom of the chest.

The dark red silk glowed in the candlelight. A farewell gift of my uncle's – Steward Denethor, who never did anything without half a dozen reasons, some open, some less so. Lord Húrin's wife had chosen it for him with her usual impeccable taste and the colour would set off my black hair and fair skin to perfection.

"It's too rich," I protested.

"Nonsense!" Éowyn plucked the brown dress from my unresisting fingers and threw it back on the bed. "You are a member of the king's household now and we have to uphold the honour of Edoras."

When I still hesitated, she ordered me to stand still and threw the new gown over my head, settling the folds around me. The sleeves were tight fitting, as was the bodice, and the neckline revealed rather more than I was accustomed to.

"After all we do not want Erkenbrand's daughters to outshine us, do we?" Éowyn said with a chuckle while lacing up the back. I had never seen her so high-spirited before.

"You are in a very good mood," I observed.

For a moment her clever fingers paused, then she tied the final knot and reached for a hairbrush. "I will go back to attending faltering steps in the morning," she said in a level voice, "but tonight I intend to enjoy myself. Yule only comes once a year," she added in an uncanny echo of her brother's words that afternoon.

And they were right, I decided. Why shouldn't I too snatch a little happiness in these dark times? And perhaps a dance? Once Éowyn had brushed out my hair in the loose style appropriate to an unwed maiden, I rummaged in the clothes chest and soon found the soft leather bag I was looking for. It contained dancing slippers the exact shade of the dress and an elegant gold fillet to hold back my hair. Denethor had not stinted me.

"My!" Éowyn lifted one eyebrow. "Leofe and Aeffe won't stand a chance."

I tossed back my hair and matched her smile. "No."

***

Fortunately I had been forewarned; otherwise the dimness that met me when I entered the Hall would have alarmed me. We were amongst the last of the household to assemble there, but courteously people made way for us to pass through to the centre. For the first time since my arrival, the fire burning in the hearth there had been allowed to go out and even as we took our places, servants doused the last remaining torches. All over Edoras lights would be going out at that moment, indeed all over the Mark.