Post by éowyn on May 3, 2012 16:53:35 GMT -5
((I apologize for the horrible name of the thread. I couldn't think of anything to name it XD))
Rohan was dying. Though Éowyn would never admit it out loud, or even really in her head, she knew it to be true- Rohan could not be a land of happiness and freedom much longer if its king were... well, indisposed as he was and had been. It was terrible to say, but true nonetheless- if Éowyn could not find a way to rid her uncle of the disease that threatened to make him and his land perish, then both would do just that.
What she wouldn't give to just kill Wormtongue once and for all... if she could only do this, but she worried as well that Grima's death would not do anything to help her uncle. She did not know what kind of witchcraft or curse was the cause of her uncle's illness, and though she knew it had to be somehow associated with Wormtongue, she didn't know how to stop it and feared that killing the person who may be responsible would only make it worse or more fatal. How was she to know? She didn't want to take the life of her uncle into her own hands, not like that, and she certainly didn't want to be responsible for his demise. But to see him wasting away day and night, by daylight and by starlight, was torture enough to make her practically go mad.
It was midday. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the hall that was her home, Edoras. But Éowyn was not cheered by the sight of it. She could not be cheered by much these days, not with her uncle's current predicament. It took so much effort to put a smile on her face; the only time it could be genuine was when she was outside, perhaps horseback riding across the plains, and even then, it was fleeting.
She feared him, yet she despised him. Wormtongue. Her thoughts could only be driven from the ghastly man for minutes at a time, for he was always watching, always lurking in the shadows, haunting her steps and squeezing, leeching the life from her uncle like a bloodsucking insect. She would not let him, she couldn't, and yet she did, she must. What was there to do? She tried so hard, she talked almost constantly to her uncle, trying to make him respond, to understand, anything... If only she knew what to do, then she would do it.
And so she exited the hall, needing the fresh air, needing something to avert her thoughts even for a few minutes. She took a deep breath of the wind flowing past her and stepped off to the side of the hall, just standing and watching the sky and the land. One day Rohan would return to its former glory; it must. She only needed to know how, or when, so that she could aid it. For now she must sit and watch, which she hated, but really, what else was there to do?
It was a horrible feeling, and a horrible thought- her land was dying, but who could really say otherwise?
