The days following the battle were a bit chaotic. Aside from the overwhelming number of wounded soldiers overflowing the rooms and halls, Gondor was rendered leaderless. The Steward had gone mad. Not just from the knowledge of Boromir's death, but the grief when his younger son, Faramir, was dragged back from Osgiliath dead due to their army not being able to reclaim the abandoned city from the enemy. Though the sight of Sauron's army at their doorsteps pushed him over the edge. The city was nearly lost before the battle began, though thankfully Gandalf took charge to give those from Rohan a chance to join the fight. Though that still wasn't enough for Denethor. Rather than wait for the enemy to knock down their doors, for he already believed the battle was lost, he decided that he did not see a reason to live anymore. The man wished to join both of his sons in the afterlife. Pippin caught onto his crazed plan and warned the Wizard. For Faramir was not dead. The Hobbit had been the only one to notice, but the man would hear nothing of the sort. He set fire to them in the room one would burn the dead kings.
Pippin saved Faramir from an even terrible death, but the Steward was lost in the chaos. Thus, this event left the throne vacant. Boromir's brother did not want the title, when he finally woke up after receiving the much-needed care. His shoulder became injured from an Orc arrow and would take time to mend. Still, he never wished to rule. He saw what it did to his father. All eyes naturally looked to Aragorn, but the Ranger felt hesitant to reclaim his birthright. And none could force him to take it.
Merry had also been brought into the halls of Gondor. Gimli nearly tripped over himself watching Pippin half carried, half dragged his friend towards the healers from the battlefield. The Dwarf rushed to help. He had been found among the corpses, unconscious, and bleeding from a head wound. His arm didn't look good once the healers removed the armor. A burn mark charred the inside of the glove to the wrist.
Pippin offered to assist those from Rohan searching for anyone still clinging to life in the field beyond Gondor. Not expecting to find Merry lying under a body beside an oliphaunt corpse. And much like Éomer with Éowyn, till her eyes finally opened the morning of the third day, he refused to leave the Hobbit's side.
Linnéa worried for Merry. She hoped that he healed from this without any lingering effects. Like Bifur, who's communication skills were never the best after an ax got stuck in his head. Finding the healers, the princess requested that she be one of the first to know about his condition since the others had their hands full. Gandalf searched for any signs of Frodo and Sam, Legolas given the task to send word to their allies about their victory. Aragorn tried to organize what remained of their forces. That left Gimli and Linnéa to sort out those well enough to move about the destroyed field beyond the walls. They needed to send off their dead and also get rid of the creatures as well. And as terrible as some might think, they started to loot through the corpses for weapons still in decent condition to put back into their armory.
It was exhausting work, all retreating to bed well into the evening. Eating dinner, half would nearly fall asleep where they sat. It was almost as hard as the battle. For the labor of sorting through the overwhelming number of the dead, and trying to act as diplomats to the rest of Middle-earth pulled them in many directions at once. By the second day they made ground, but depending on what their next course of action would be, those beyond the wall halted their activities to conserve their strength.
Choosing to sit away from crowd in the evenings, Gimli, Legolas, and Linnéa found a quiet alcove where they could just barely hear the murmurs of the others. The princess wobbled a bit beside the Elf, as her eyes struggled to stay open. Her group of soldiers had been trying to figure out what to do with the dead oliphaunts. It took a lot of manpower to discover an efficient way to collect them into piles for contained bonfires. The empty bowl sat heavily in her lap. The Dwarf began to worry she may pitch forward accidentally and hurt herself. Though Legolas would reach out before that could happen to right herself up. It didn't last long. Finally Linnéa leaned more to the right unconsciously to settle against the prince's shoulder. He pretended not to notice that anything was unnatural about it, continuing to eat with the opposite arm to not disturb her. Though he sensed Gimli's glare on him across the small space as the two sat in a mildly uncomfortable silence. Thankfully, Aragorn joined them eventually, a bit amused by the silent stand-off between the two males, while Linnéa innocently slept.
By the fourth day, Merry regained consciousness and did not appear to have any lasting injuries that would hinder him in any way. Éowyn, however, struggled. But not in a physical manner. Those wounds were healing nicely, thanks to Aragorn's skilled methods from the Elves, but mentally, she suffered. And it wasn't hard to guess why. The princess made it her mission to check on the woman when time allowed it. She had been given a private room near the healers in case she needed assistance, and spent the rest of her time alone. She even spoke little to Éomer, and that worried him greatly. The death of Théoden depressed her, which was not surprising. Those from Rohan already gave him a king's burial amongst his fallen men. For their sacrifice deserved nothing less.
Sometimes, the women conversed quietly during their visits, other times there was only silence. Which in itself felt nice at times for Linnéa, who prepared a letter to send to King Dáin on the events that transpired. They probably heard the rumors of their success already, but her people would be waiting for a detailed report.
Yet the silence could not last forever. Éowyn would not get past what happened on the battlefield without discussing it. Even the most stubborn person could not keep in their personal struggles without being eaten alive by it. War, and gruesome ones like what happened beyond the gates, left their marks on soldiers that could sometimes last a lifetime. The princess wanted to prevent that from happening to her friend.
"Tell me what happened," Linnéa finally asked. The question gained the woman's attention. "Help me understand. Because all I have to go off of are weapons left around you, a creature's carcass, and a possible target that vanished at their demise."
For a moment, the princess wondered if she would be ignored when Éowyn glanced away in thought. A few minutes later, though, she answered,
"The Witch King and his creature took someone I loved from me. I returned the favor by taking their lives."
Finally, Linnéa gained a clear view of the woman's whereabouts throughout the battlefield. Along with Merry from a time. From when they waited in the White Mountains to ride out and the king refused to allow the Hobbit to fight. How Théoden left specific instructions that Éowyn was to rule Rohan in his absence, should something happen. But she didn't wish to rule at the order. Éowyn wanted to join the battle too. So the two of them snuck into the fold. And because she was not a man, when facing off against the Witch King, she found herself able to eliminate him permanently.
Incredible. That was the only word Linnéa could think of to describe her actions at the moment.
"That was dangerous... but you have my respect," the princess said.
Éowyn was surprised to hear that. She had not even told Éomer what truly happened, leaving the man to guess based on the princess's findings. A part of her was afraid to say anything for some fear of being scolded for being so rash or selfish.
"If I were in your shoes, I would have done the same." And with a small smile, added, "Despite your loss, you will be a great ruler. Rohan could not ask for better and when my time comes, I think we will have a great alliance. Queen Éowyn has a nice ring to it."
The woman finally cracked a small smile. There were tears in her eyes. Sadness, but joy as well, as the two embraced in a friendly manner.
"Thank you," Éowyn whispered.
Leaving the room, she glanced down the hall and nodded to three healers passing when her attention landed on the courtyard further away. Someone caught her eye, an individual she recently observed more and more in this part of the castle. Slipping amongst the columns, Linnéa grew closer in a quiet manner.
Faramir couldn't help himself. Since regaining consciousness, the weight of his father's final actions sunk in. And that through his madness and their tumultuous relationship as father and son, a part of the Steward cared for him in some way. Not the same as Boromir, but emotions were there nonetheless. Though he didn't agree with his actions. The man felt lucky to have his life and thanked Pippin profusely for risking his own to save him. Faramir offered him a great reward, yet the Hobbit refused anything of the sort. He was only glad to see the soldier alive and on the mend.
Faramir could not stand to sit around in his quarters once the healers said he was well enough to move about. And during one of his mornings wandering the courtyard he saw her. A woman with golden hair that seemed to shine in the glow of the rising sun. She sat in the stone window of her room, reading a book silently and unaware that she possessed an admirer. Faramir couldn't think straight as his breath completely escaped him. He did not recognize her, knowing immediately she was not a woman of Gondor. There were bandages wrapping an arm, and peeking out from under the collar of her dress, which seemed odd for a fair lady such as herself. Still, this stranger was the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on, and he wanted to know more about her. But Faramir was not his brother. He did not have the same confidence and instead decided to admire from afar for now.
And that was what he continued to do at the current moment. There was a sad look in her eyes, and a seriousness to them. It told him that she had been through and seen a lot in her life. None of that mattered to him. It only fed into his intrigue to know her. Faramir finally asked the healer tending to him, who she was.
"A woman from Rohan," was the answer.
But none of the riders occupying their halls were civilians. Which meant she came with the army as a fighter.
The man grew so lost in thought he realized he stared for too long as her head picked up to look him in the eye. She merely stared and he became rooted to the spot. But only for a moment before a smile graced his features.
"You know, it's probably better to introduce yourself first."
His shoulders tensed at the sudden voice, glancing over a shoulder. There, he found Linnéa. She smirked at the fact he had been 'caught', but decided to not tease him further.
"Just my own personal opinion," the princess said. "You've been watching her for some time."
"I thought I was being discreet," he admitted.
"Maybe to others. But I've been around Éowyn since she woke and couldn't help but notice someone lingering."
Éowyn. That was a lovely name.
"You are Faramir."
His brows pinched in confusion that she knew of him. "I do not believe we have met."
"I knew your brother. We were both part of the Fellowship that left Rivendell. I represented the Council of the Misty Mountains."
His eyes widened. "You are the heir to Erebor."
She slightly bowed in greeting. "We were children last time we met. And I am sorry for your loss."
"I'm sorry for my brother and his actions that forced your hand."
"Pippin told you."
He nodded.
"I may have broken his nose," Linnéa admitted.
Faramir laughed a bit. "That would have been a sight to see."
But all laughing aside, Linnéa said, "Talk to her. While she's still here. You don't want to chase her back to Edoras if all goes well."
She retreated back to her room leaving the man in thought.