ABOUT LOTR

The King of the Golden Hall

The woman turned and went slowly into the house. As she passed the doors she turned and looked back. Grave and thoughtful was her glance, as she looked on the king with cool pity in her eyes. Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river of gold. Slender and tall she was in her white robe girt with silver; but strong she seemed and stern as steel, a daughter of kings. Thus Aragorn for the first time in the full light of day beheld Éowyn, Lady of Rohan, and thought her fair, fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come to womanhood. And she now was suddenly aware of him: tall heir of kings, wise with many winters, greycloaked, hiding a power that yet she felt. For a moment still as stone she stood, then turning swiftly she was gone.

* * *

The king now rose, and at once Éowyn came forward bearing wine. "Ferthu Théoden hal!" she said. "Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with thee at thy going and coming!"

Théoden drank from the cup, and she then proffered it to the guests. As she stood before Aragorn she paused suddenly and looked upon him, and her eyes were shining. And he looked down upon her fair face and smiled; but as he took the cup, his hand met hers, and he knew that she trembled at the touch. "Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!" she said. "Hail Lady of Rohan!" he answered, but his face now was troubled and he did not smile.

* * *

"There is Éowyn, daughter of Éomund, his sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone."

"It shall be so," said Théoden. "Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Éowyn will lead them!"

Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors, and Éowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corslet. "Farewell sister-daughter!" he said. "Dark is the hours, yet maybe we shall return to the Golden Hall. But in Dunharrow the people may long defend themselves, and if the battle go ill, thither will come all who escape."

"Speak not so!" she answered. "A year shall I endure for every day that passes until your return." But as she spoke her eyes went to Aragorn who stood nearby.

* * *

Aragorn looked back as they passed towards the gate. Alone Éowyn stood before the doors of the house at the stair's head; the sword was set upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun.

The Passing of the Grey Company

The Lady Éowyn greeted them and was glad of their coming... but on Aragorn most of all her eyes rested. And when they sat at supper with her, they talked together, and she heard of all that had passed since Théoden rode away, concerning which only hasty tidings had yet reached her; and when she heard of the battle in Helm's Deep and the great slaughter of their foes, and of the charge of Théoden and his knights, then her eyes shone.

But at last she said: "Lords, you are weary and shall now go to your beds with such ease as can be contrived in haste. But tomorrow fairer housing shall be found for you."

But Aragorn said: "Nay, lady, be not troubled for us! If we may lie here tonight and break our fast tomorrow, it will be enough. For I ride on an errand most urgent, and with the first light of morning we must go."

She smiled on him and said: "Then it was kindly done, lord, to ride so many miles out of your way to bring tidings to Éowyn, and to speak with her in her exile."

"Indeed no man would count such a journey wasted," said Aragorn; "and yet, lady, I could not have come hither, if it were not that the road which I must take leads me to Dunharrow."

And she answered as one that likes not what is said: "Then, lord, you are astray; for out of Harrowdale no road runs east or south; and you had best return as you came."

"Nay, lady," said he, "I am not astray; for I walked in this land ere you were born to grace it. There is a road out of this valley, and that road I shall take. Tomorrow I shall ride by the Paths of the Dead."

Then she stared at him as one that is stricken, and her face blanched, and for long she spoke no more, while all sat silent. "But, Aragorn," she said at last, "is it then your errand to seek death? For that is all that you will find on that road. They do not suffer the living to pass."

"They may suffer me to pass," said Aragorn; "but at the least I will adventure it. No other road will serve."

"But this is madness," she said. "For here are men of renown and prowess, whom you should not take into the shadows, but should lead to war, where men are needed. I beg you to remain and ride with my brother; for then all our hearts will be gladdened, and our hope be the brighter."

"It is not madness, lady," he answered; "for I go on a path appointed. But those who follow me do so of their free will; and if they wish now to remain and ride with the Rohirrim, they may do so. But I shall take the Paths of the Dead, alone, if needs be."

Then they said no more, and they ate in silence; but her eyes were ever upon Aragorn, and the others saw that she was in great torment of mind. At length they arose, and took their leave of the Lady, and thanked her for her care, and went to their rest.

But as Aragorn came to the booth where he was to lodge with Legolas and Gimli, and his companions had gone in, there came the Lady Éowyn after him and called to him. He turned and saw her as a glimmer in the night, for she was clad in white; but her eyes were on fire.

"Aragorn," she said, "why will you go on this deadly road?"

"Because I must," he said. "Only so can I see any hope of doing my part in the war against Sauron. I do not choose paths of peril, Éowyn. Were I to go where my heart dwells, far in the North I would now be wandering in the fair valley of Rivendell."

For a while she was silent, as if pondering what this might mean. Then suddenly she laid her hand on his arm. "You are a stern lord and resolute," she said; "and thus do men win renown." She paused. "Lord," she said, "if you must go, then let me ride in your following. For I am weary of skulking in the hills, and wish to face peril and battle."

"Your duty is with your people," he answered.

"Too often have I heard of duty," she cried. "But am I not of the House of Eorl, a shieldmaiden and not a dry-nurse? I have waited on faltering feet long enough. Since they falter no longer, it seems, may I not spend my life as I will?"

"Few may do that with honour," he answered. "But as for you, lady: did you not accept the charge to govern the people until their lord's return? If you had not been chosen, then some marshal or captain would have been set in the same place, and he could not ride away from his charge, were he weary of it or no."

"Shall I always be chosen?" she said bitterly. "Shall I always be left behind when the Riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?"

"A time may come soon," said he, "when none will return. Then there will be need of valour without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defence of your homes. Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised."

And she answered: "All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death."

"What do you fear, lady?" he asked.

"A cage," she said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire."

"And yet you counselled me not to adventure on the road that I had chosen, because it is perilous?"

"So may one counsel another," she said. "Yet I do not bid you flee from peril, but to ride to battle where your sword may win renown and victory. I would not see a thing that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."

"Nor would I," he said. "Therefore I say to you, lady: Stay! For you have no errand to the South."

"Neither have those others who go with thee. They go only because they would not be parted from thee -- because they love thee." Then she turned and vanished into the night.

* * *

When the light of day was come into the sky... Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all mounted, and he was about to leap into the saddle, when the Lady Éowyn came to bid them farewell. She was clad as a Rider and girt with a sword. In her hand she bore a cup, and she set it to her lips and drank a little, wishing them good speed; and then she gave the cup to Aragorn, and he drank, and he said: "Farewell, Lady of Rohan! I drink to the fortunes of your House, and of you, and of all your people. Say to your brother: beyond the shadows we may meet again!"

Then it seemed to Gimli and Legolas who were nearby that she wept, and in one so stern and proud that seemed the more grievous. But she said: "Aragorn, wilt thou go?"

"I will," he said.

"Then wilt thou not let me ride with this company, as I have asked?"

"I will not, lady," he said. "For that I could not grant without leave of the king and of your brother; and they will not return until tomorrow. But I count now every hour, indeed every minute. Farewell!"

Then she fell on her knees, saying: "I beg thee!"

"Nay, lady," he said, and taking her by the hand he raised her. Then he kissed her hand, and sprang into the saddle, and rode away, and did not look back; and only those who knew him well and were near to him saw the pain that he bore.

But Éowyn stood still as a figure carven in stone, her hands clenched at her sides, and she watched them until they passed into the shadows under the black Dwimorberg, the Haunted Mountain, in which was the Door of the Dead. When they were lost to view, she turned, stumbling as one that is blind, and went back to her lodging.

The Muster of Rohan

As they drew near Merry saw that the rider was a woman with long braided hair gleaming in the twilight, yet she wore a helm and was clad to the waist like a warrior and girded with a sword.

"Hail, Lord of the Mark!" she cried. "My heart is glad at your returning."

"And you, Éowyn," said Théoden, "is all well with you?"

"All is well," she answered; yet it seemed to Merry that her voice belied her, and he would have thought that she had been weeping, if that could be believed of one so stern of face.

* * *

"So Aragorn has come then," said Éomer. "Is he still here?"

"No, he is gone," said Éowyn, turning away and looking at the mountains dark against the East and South.

"Whither did he go?" asked Éomer.

"I do not know," she answered. "He came at night, and rode away yestermorn, ere the Sun had climbed over the mountaintops. He is gone."

"You are grieved, daughter," said Théoden. "What has happened? Tell me, did he speak of that road?" He pointed away along the darkening lines of stones towards the Dwimorberg. "Of the Paths of the Dead?"

"Yes, lord," said Éowyn. "And he has passed into the shadow from which none have returned. I could not dissuade him. He is gone."

* * *

"Greatly changed he seemed to me since I saw him first in the king's house," said Éowyn: "grimmer, older. Fey I thought him, and like one whom the Dead call."

* * *

"Come now, Meriadoc!" she said, "I will show you the gear that I have prepared for you... This request only did Aragorn make to me, that you should be armed for battle. I have granted it, as I could. For my heart tells me that you will need such gear ere the end."

* * *

One looked up, glancing keenly at the hobbit. A young man... less in height and girth than most. He caught the glint of clear grey eyes; and then he shivered, for it came suddenly to him that it was the face of one without hope who goes in search of death.

* * *

Unnoticed a Rider came up and spoke softly in the hobbit's ear.

"Where will wants not, a way opens, so we say," he whispered; "and so I have found myself." Merry looked up and saw that it was the young Rider whom he had noticed in the morning. "You wish to go whither the Lord of the Mark goes: I see it in your face."

"I do," said Merry.

"Then you shall go with me," said the Rider. "I will bear you before me, under my cloak until we are far afield, and this darkness is yet darker. Such good will should not be denied. Say no more to any man, but come!"

"Thank you indeed!" said Merry. "Thank you, sir, though I do not know your name."

"Do you not?" said the Rider softly. "Then call me Dernhelm."

The Battle of the Pelennor Fields

The helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheeks. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes. Éowyn it was, and Dernhelm also. For into Merry's mind flashed the memory of the face that he saw... the face of one that goes seeking death, having no hope.

The Houses of Healing

Aragorn came to Éowyn, and he said, "Here there is a grievous hurt and a heavy blow... It was an evil doom that set her in his path. For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die? Her malady beings far back before this day, does it not, Éomer?"

"I marvel that you should ask me, lord," he answered. "For I hold you blameless in this matter, as in all else; yet I knew not that Éowyn, my sister, was touched by any frost, until she first looked on you. Care and dread she had, and shared with me, in the days of Wormtongue and the king's bewitchment; and she tended the king in growing fear. But that did not bring her to this pass!" ...Then Éomer was silent, and looked on his sister, as if pondering anew all the days of their past life together.

But Aragorn said: "I saw also what you saw, Éomer. Few other griefs amid the ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for a man's heart than to behold the love of a lady so fair and brave that cannot be returned. Sorrow and pity have followed me ever since I left her desperate in Dunharrow and rode to the Paths of the Dead; and no fear upon that way was so present as the fear for what might befall her. And yet, Éomer, I say to you that she loves you more truly than me; for you she loves and knows; but in me she loves only a shadow and a thought: a hope of glory and great deeds, and lands far from the fields of Rohan.

"I have, maybe, the power to heal her body, and to recall her from the dark valley. But to what she will awake: hope, or forgetfulness, or despair, I do not know. And if to despair, then she will die, unless other healing comes which I cannot bring. Alas! For her deeds have set her among the queens of great renown."

Then Aragorn stooped and looked in her face, and it was indeed white as a lily, cold as frost, and hard as graven stone. But he bent and kissed her on the brow, and called her softly, saying:

"Éowyn, Éomund's daughter, awake! For your enemy has passed away."

She did not stir, but now she began again to breathe deeply, so that her breast rose and fell beneath the white linen of the sheet. Once more Aragorn bruised two leaves of athelas and cast them into steaming water; and he laved her brow with it, and her right arm lying cold and nerveless on the coverlet.

Then, whether Aragorn had indeed some forgotten power of Westernesse, or whether it was but his words of the Lady Éowyn that wrought on them... it seemed to those who stood by that a keen wind blew through the window, and it bore no scent, but was an air wholly fresh and clean and young...

"Awake, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan!" said Aragorn again, and he took her right hand in his and felt it warm with life returning. "Awake! The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed clean!" Then he laid her hand in Éomer's and stepped away. "Call her!" he said, and he passed silently from the chamber.

The Steward and the King

"I wished to be loved by another, but I desire no man's pity."

Many Partings

"Faramir, Steward of Gondor, and Prince of Ithilien, asks that Éowyn Lady of Rohan should be his wife, and she grants it full willing. Therefore they shall be trothplighted before you all."

And Faramir and Éowyn stood forth and set hand in hand; and all there drank to them and were glad. "Thus," said Éomer, "is the friendship of the Mark and of Gondor bound with a new bond, and the more do I rejoice."

"No niggard are you, Éomer," said Aragorn, "to give thus to Gondor the fairest thing in your realm!"

Then Éowyn looked in the eyes of Aragorn, and she said: "Wish me joy, my liege-lord and healer!"

And he answered, "I have wished thee joy ever since first I saw thee. It heals my heart to see thee now in bliss."

Misc

In the Prologue to LotR, we learn that "The full tale [of Aragorn and Arwen, found in the appendix] is stated to have been written by Barahir, grandson of the Steward Faramir, some time after the passing of the King." Kind of ironic, isn't it?