The Eastern Woman

Alliance

The news swept Éowyn like a gust of cold winter wind.  For a moment, she was unable to think.

The Dwarf had hesitated before revealing the harsh truth, aware of the pain he would give to that young woman, who seemed as delicate as a lily. 

But it had happened.  Aragorn was gone, and that time not to get lost in some desolate clearing, but he had just left the Earth.  A Dunèdain, a race of Men kissed by the grace of long life, killed by a group of squalid little orcs.

Goneril looked for Èowyn, while trying to figure out how to drag Aldair through that tunnel.  Her precious horse would have to bend its neck down, and Goneril wasn't sure it would make it.  Moreover, the protrusions of the rocky walls could have wounded it.

"...damn...where is that girl, where does she always hide when you need her ... you, over there!"  She shouted to a group of soldiers.  "... start escorting these people to the underground." 

With barely concealed annoyance, the soldiers obeyed.  One dared protest: "We obey only our King."
Goneril turned to look at him: that guy reminded her of Aran, the proud warrior of her legion, whose face had been disfigured by Goneril in punishment.  You know, that scar gives you a more masculine look ... you should thank me, she had told him to tease him.  Aran had had enough brain not to reply that time.  She also found herself thinking that her men would have been very useful at the Helm's Deep.

"Your King is not here now. Your princess, instead, told you a few minutes ago that you have to listen to me and do what I say ... so ... do what I say." 

Once upon a time, if one of her legionaries had shown such a rebellious attitude, she would have punished him. Protests in her legion were tolerated as summer mosquitoes.

"The King has just returned. He crossed the gate a few moments ago." another soldier said dryly. Goneril turned her gaze to the great walls at the entrance to the Hornburg.

In fact she saw Théoden, who was dismounting from his horse. She hurried towards the handful of soldiers who had just returned. "What happened, where are all the others?" she asked Legolas, who seemed to have been struck by lightning.

"Aragorn has fallen." murmured the Elf. Goneril noticed in him the typical confused expression of the Elves when they came to elaborate the concept of death. They didn't understand it completely. It was not part of their nature. Or rather, not in the sense that Men meant.

She was more than certain that the Prince of Greenwood at that moment was trying to convince himself that he would never see his friend again. That was his way of understanding death. Never again would they talk, not even in another life, because for mortals, another life simply didn't exist.

When her eyes met those of the princess of Rohan, she realized that for Éowyn the idea of ​​death was very clear. The blonde woman seemed to have turned into a stone statue. She should have been happy that her uncle had survived and returned almost unharmed, instead she seemed a woman just informed to have become a widow.

Goneril found it ridiculous, if not pathetic. Hell, what was that girl thinking? To have a future as Aragorn's wife? In addition, Éowyn had also heard about his relationship with Arwen, daughter of Elrond: the Elf princess had to despair, not Éowyn. And she certainly would have, once the news had reached her pointy ears. It was indeed probable that the noble She Elf would slowly die out in pain, according to the nature of the Eldar.

Goneril decided to shake Théoden's niece. "Come on, there are about six hundred people to take in the basement. We have to hurry." She said abruptly. Éowyn turned to look at her. She didn't seem able to understand. "Listen: it is a fact that you have to accept. Aragorn was a warrior, this is the risk with which you live every day when you choose this path."