Rise (Lord of the Rings)

33 - Strategy vs. Common Sense

It turned out that King Théoden's son had perished, and that the flower-covered mounds we had passed were the graves of the dead. I felt sorry for the king of Rohan. He had been under the control of an evil Wizard, broken out of the trance by Gandalf, only to come to know that his son had died.

While Gandalf was out with Théoden, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and I remained in the Golden Hall. We had been offered food. Only Gimli and Aragorn sat at the table with food, Aragorn held a pipe in one hand. Legolas stood near them. As for me, I wandered around the Hall.

I felt a little eager to go outside and roam the city, but I didn't want to go alone. After all, I was weaponless for the moment—though I knew I would surely get my sword back if I asked for it—and venturing out into foreign territory was risky. On the surface, the people of Edoras seemed like timid folk who did not want to be bothered with war. Still, there was the chance of crooks lurking within the city. I figured it was best for me to stay inside the Hall.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" asked a lofty voice.

I whipped around to see Éowyn, dressed in something different this time, her hair up in a different style. She looked more regal than before.

"It is," I agreed. "We have nothing like this back in the Shire."

"The Shire?"

"It's my homeland," I boasted. "It's probably the only area in Middle-earth where you'll find Hobbits."

"Ah, that is what you are. I was going to ask, but I did not want to be rude."

"You wouldn't have been." I threw her a timid smile. "What relation are you to the king?"

"Niece. Éomer is his nephew."

"And where is he?"

"Who knows? He and the other Riders of Rohan were banished when the king was under the control of that vile Wizard."

Something clicked in my head just then. What if Éomer had been the leader of the group of Riders we had encountered before? He gave off a commanding air, a quality that seemed to cling to royal heirs.

"Tell me, what is the Shire like? Your homeland sounds like a very lovely place," Éowyn murmured.

Éowyn seemed to be a gentle soul and very friendly. I told her all I knew about the Shire, keeping out my past unless she asked for it. I told her about how the Shire always looked so lively with the greenery, how Hobbits got along with one another so easily, and about the parties. Éowyn hung onto every word I said.

"And you somehow managed to end up far away from home..." she mused. "But didn't you say Hobbits are a kind, gentle race?"

"Yes. Why are you asking?"

"Well, you don't come off as gentle." She said this carefully.

"With what I have encountered since leaving the Shire, I guess some of my nature has gone away." I shrugged. "Mind you, I still am that shy, kind Hobbit girl—she's just not here at the moment."

I looked over at the boys. My stomach mutely gurgled, telling me it wanted to eat. I wanted to, but I wasn't sure whether it was smart to risk it or not. I was still peeved with Aragorn for having King Théoden spare Gríma's life.

"What ails you?" Éowyn's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked to her. "A lot of things. I'm not happy about Gríma escaping. He should have paid for the horrors that happened during the time he helped Saruman control the king."