The Eastern Woman

Edoras

"Take him to his chambers ... oh please, help him ... Théodred!"  cried Éowyn, after seeing her cousin.

Éomer and two soldiers carried the body into the prince's bedroom.  The herbalist of Rohan, Jeremiah, who was the only one in the realm to have medical knowledge, immediately shook his head.  He didn't even bother to examine the wounds on the left side of the prince's body.
"His life is on the edge of the abyss."  he told Éomer.  The princess, nearby, burst into sobs.
"But he's breathing!"  the young man protested.  "He's still breathing! You can save him!"

"No Éomer, I'm sorry. His face has lost every spark of life. It's too late. He must have lost almost all the blood of his body."  explained Jeremiah, who was not a real doctor and who, anyway, couldn't do much. "I suggest you to stay close to him. Don't let him die alone."

"No, not Théodred ... it's not fair. He's still so young!"  Éowyn said desperately.  "Who will tell our uncle?"  She asked his brother.

"I'm sure he's going to make it, he's strong."  continued Éomer, who did not seem to have listened to the hernalist's speech.  "Death won't take him today, you'll see."  Then he turned and left the room with a firm step: the mere sight of his cousin reduced in that state was too much for him to bear.

Éowyn imagined how her brother felt. A deep affection bound him to Théodred: years and years spent together, the two siblings had lost both their parents, and the prince of Rohan had grown up without his mother.

Théodred had always considered Éomer more than a cousin. From him he had learned to fight, from him he had learned to show courage in the face of all adversities.

Éowyn imagined that her brother probably felt guilty for having allowed the Prince to go on patrol on his own. There had been rumors about the presence of Uruk-Hais in the Mark. And it was known that they were dangerous, it was known that against those creatures the weapons of Men were useless.

She took his cousin's cold hand. "Please, fight. As you've always done. Stay with us, Théodred." she whispered, as a tear ran slowly down her cheek. It seemed to burn her skin. Her face was also cold. It was always cold in the Palace, the freezing air brought by that icy February came from the thousand fissures in the ancient walls.

"A true misfortune, poor young man." said Grima, behind her.

He watched her from the doorway. Éowyn hated the way that black crow looked at her all the time. She also detested the fact that Grima was always following her uncle, poisoning his mind with harmful advice and pushing him to isolate himself from everything and everyone.

"I'm praying for him. He must survive." she answered anyway. It seemed that Grima was far from sorry for Théodred's fate. Éowyn did not want to give him the satisfaction of appearing desperate and afraid.

"And you are right. I'm sure our mighty gods will listen to you ..." he murmured, coming closer. The girl felt a new shiver. "... how could they ignore such a beautiful flower." he murmured, looking at her from head to toe.

"Please leave me alone with my cousin." she replied, making an effort to look at him. Éowyn always avoided eye contact with that repulsive man, she feared that Grima could misunderstand her looks. Éowyn was sure he was looking forward to misunderstanding, so to have a justification for molesting her even more.

"Oh sure, as you wish." the little man retorted, evidently annoyed. Éowyn rejected him on a daily basis, and the thing made him mad. "Stay close to him ... at least he will leave this world with a loving comfort."

Then he turned, after dropping the last lascivious look on the young woman's body.

Éowyn fell on her knees.  She felt weak, helpless and vulnerable.  The worst feelings for someone like her, who had grown up believing that women should be as strong as men... more than men.