The Darkness That Endures
'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 counseled 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.
from The Return of the King
A month ago Eowyn had watched him ride from Edoras, and from that place she had walked as one whose doom had befallen her; as though she waited only for the moment when she might send forth her soul to follow her desire. Afterward, she rode to battle and won renown, and was in turn carried to this place of healing. She lay here without peace; for death had eluded her, and also victory. For Theoden's bane had fallen to a halfling, and she was herself struck down, not by the Witch-King, but by his steed. So it was, though all bowed before her, whispering of her deeds, that Eowyn suffered in the city of Gondor. Neither the Steward nor the Warden would give her liberty, and in her heart she muttered against them bitterly. Yet in the thoughts to which she did not given voice, Eowyn knew that even liberty would not bring her joy.
Now tidings were come from the Lords of the West, and the light of the sun shone bright upon all the ways of the city. And Eowyn was glad, for the people had long lived under shadow, and her heart was full of pity for those who were not great lords and had no say in the fate of the world. Therefore she did not begrudge them their joy; with no living creature was she so ungentle as she was with herself. Yet their joy did not touch her heart, and though Eowyn waited for her own winter to pass, spring did not look like coming.
Faramir, Denethor's son, talked with her often in the gardens, and they walked together in the light of the east. She knew that in the great darkness she had seemed to him a fair and bright promise of future joy, and that he would soon come to beg her hand. For Faramir watched her closely, and when she did not answer Eomer's call to join him at Cormallen he understood it according to the wish of his own heart. So she ceased to seek his company, for she thought it better to leave him in confusion than in sorrow. When the bells rang, and the banners broke forth to hail a great coming, she walked alone to see the return of the King to his City.
Faramir saw her coming from afar. At his request -- the first he had spoken to her in many days -- she stood with him to greet the advancing host, where rode her brother. She was clad in the garb of a Rider, all sign of her lordliness hidden. Her hair was bound tightly, and though it yet gleamed in the light, it was no more than many maidens of the race of Numenor could boast. If any were drawn to her face, among all those princes there assembled, it was to wonder how so fair a maid looked so cold, and how one who greeted the dawning of her people's glory could yet seem so lost. Still, she was not all unmoved; and when Aragorn called for Mithrandir to place the crown upon his head, she wept freely.
She followed that company on its procession into the city where she sought Eomer, who greeted her with great joy. And though she returned his greeting lovingly he perceived the frost in her heart. He did not understand it, and was troubled in his turn. Yet Eowyn did not love close watching, so he waited, and did not question her.
She lingered in the feasting company for days yet, and was saddened to see from afar that Faramir's brow was heavy when he looked upon her. Likewise, Eomer's eyes were troubled, and he began to whisper closely with the Steward. Once, even, she spied him keeping company with the Warden. Still she would not speak to him or ease his concern with a countenance of false brightness.
It happened one night that Eowyn walked far outside the walls of the city, for she did not like to lay in her bed when sleep evaded her, as of late it often did. She followed the paths of the city to their end, until she came to the feet of Mount Mindolluin. Long did she stand there, to watch the darkness, and consider the strange burning in her heart that commanded her to set forth under the night into places that could not be seen.
When a voice called to her, she did not start; but she caught her breath a moment, thinking that the darkness had learned her name. Then the voice called again, and she perceived that it came from the North, where lay the city.
She looked behind her to find Aragorn seated upon a stone, watching her gravely. Surprise made her dumb for a moment, then she turned and did him such a courtesy as was right for the Lady of Rohan to make the King of Gondor.
"Your footsteps are haunted, lady." His eyes were bright, and in that moment it was hard to remember the time which had passed since he left her, bitter, at Edoras. "This is my realm now, and I would see no friend of mine troubled here. Will you not say what drives you from your bed and makes you wander, alone in the night?"
She could only look at him in silence, and after another few moments he leapt lightly from his seat and stood before her. "And if you will speak of that, perhaps you will also speak of the shadow which clings to you by day, when you are in my home, and in your brother's company. And that which gives the Warden of the Healing Houses cause to regret that you stole in secret from his care, before, he says, your healing was complete. Or if all these are one cause, will you name it and bid me strike it down? For it grieves me to see you suffering, and it dims the splendor of these first days of my inheritance to have one whom I hold dear unable to take part in my joy."
As he spoke there was such light upon his countenance, and such sweet earnestness in his voice, that she longed to make him a fair answer. But she turned her gaze aside instead and gave him the answer that seemed right.
"King of Gondor," she replied, "if steel could be its bane I should long since have rid myself of it. For I wield my own blade. But as to my wandering here, I can answer easily enough, though perhaps it will seem a small thing to you: I am wondering how Eowyn Eomund's daughter shall pass the long years in this bright new age of peace."
"Is that so mysterious that you must seek for an answer under the stars?"
"Yes; for I yearn after strange roads. But I come to think that I must forsake roads altogether and go a pathless way." It was hard for Eowyn to speak to him so, or look at his face, for she remembered him riding forth upon the Paths of the Dead; and she remembered that in her heart she had bid him eternal farewell, for she had meant to seek her own death in the dark days that followed. Seeing him now was like seeing some dead one whom she once loved but had long ago mourned. He reminded her of old grief, and she could not look on him untroubled.
"Is there not one whose love might quell this strange yearning?" he said, and for an instant all her mind rebelled; for it was well known she who would be Queen was even now on the road to Gondor.
Then she understood him rightly, and was surprised by new bitterness, which she took care to keep from her voice. "Well do I love the Prince of Ithilien, and hope he may find happiness. And for this reason I cannot be wed to him. He would soon perceive the great emptiness in my heart, and his own would break."
When Aragorn spoke again there was sadness in his voice, as that of one who delights to give gifts, but perceives that those he has offered give no delight. "Will you not be happy, Eowyn?"
She replied, "I would, my lord. But I think I shall not."
Then she took her leave of him, and turned back to the city alone. She heard him, when she was some fifty paces off, get up and follow her as she returned. She realized, almost amused, that he meant to guard her. She returned to her chamber. It was empty, for she permitted no one near her now, having wearied of attendant maidens when she stayed in the Healing Houses. There were no sounds in the air.
Her brother was close by. Eowyn longed to go to him; to lay herself at his side, and stretch her arms around his neck as she did when they were motherless children in Theoden's great hall. Childish too was her sudden longing for the hills of her home, for the limitless spread of those plains where a horse might run with no touch to his bridle. But she and Eomer were children no longer, and if she sought entrance to the chamber where the King of Rohan slept she would have to explain herself to his sentries.
Yet she had a horse, a gift of Faramir's; and she might ride him where she chose. And there were other things she might do, it seemed, to quell the great restlessness of her heart in this time when nights were sleepless and all the desolate years of her life stretched before her.
She stood long at her window and watched the setting of the moon. There were hours yet before sunrise; hours in which her shadow would be lost across the dark plain. Hours before she would be missed, before any Rider could attempt to overtake her.
Hours in which she could put so much distance between herself and this place that they would never find her.
Thus, as Gondor's queen approached the seat of her bliss, the White Lady of Rohan rode for the hills, flying from night to day. She rode to freedom beneath the new dawn; she left Gondor, the evening sky, and the stars, to Aragorn and his elven bride.
Eowyn rode to seek the sun; and if that did not drive down the enduring winter in her heart, it warmed her shoulders, and her hair, and the green grass on which she lay.
And that was enough. For if she did not yet know joy, she knew at last the seeking of it.