Gold And Steel
Grave and thoughtful was her glance, and she looked on the king with
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.
(The Lord of the Rings; The Two Towers; The King of the Golden Hall)
He came to her in the weapon chamber, appearing at her side while she was girding on her sword belt. "My lady." She whirled around, turning to face him.
"You! What are you doing here?" Her hand was on the hilt of her sword, ready to strike should he make a move. He didn't.
"I have come to see you, my lady." He smiled. "May I ask why your worship is preparing for battle? Surely Théoden King is not so desperate he requires women to ride with him?"
"Hold your tongue, serpent," she hissed, drawing her sword. "Why have you come here? Did Gandalf not send you away? Did he not warn you never to return?"
"Indeed he did, my lady. But Gandalf Stormcrow is far from here, and Rohan is at the mercy of fate. I have come, Éowyn of Rohan, to propose a trade."
"A trade?" She lowered her sword, but did not replace it in its sheath. "A trade, Gríma Wormtongue, should be equal. What can you offer that I should forget your treachery and deal with you as with an equal?"
"Nothing, my lady, but the future of Rohan." She said nothing, stunned. He continued, "The men of Rohan will ride to the aid of Gondor today, but not all will return. Théoden King will not see the end of this battle, my Lady, nor will your brother. Without them, Rohan will soon be lost to the Dark Lord."
"Are you a seer now, snake? How can you claim to know the future?" She was angry, with him, and with herself for listening to his words. Fear grew in her heart. "There is hope even in these dark times."
"You refer to Aragorn, son of Arathorn, who claims to be King of Gondor." He smiled again, and her blood ran cold. "Alas, Lady Éowyn, even the mightiest cannot defeat Sauron while the One Ring is still intact. And the Ringbearer has failed."
"You lie!" She screamed, raising her sword, but when she swung it and tried to take his treacherous head off his shoulders, she struck nothing but air. He had vanished. "Snake! Where are you?"
"I am right here, my lady," his voice came from behind her, mocking. She turned and struck again, but struck but air once more.
"Show yourself!"
"Not until you lower your sword. I did not come to harm you, nor to be harmed myself."
She paused, then lowered her sword. Instantly, he reappeared before her very eyes. "What devilry is this? Have you become a wizard, serpent? Is this how Saruman rewarded you?"
"Nay, my lady, this is not Saruman's doing. Saruman's way left mine five days hence, and I know not where he is now."
"Surely one who claims to see the future would know where Saruman is."
He smiled. "Perhaps, then, I should say that I care not where he is now. Saruman has lost his army, his staff, and his power, my lady. He is no longer a threat to Rohan. But others are."
"One does not need to be a seer to know this, Wormtongue. You say you can ward off this threat?"
"No, my lady, I cannot. But you can. Your uncle and brother will not return from the battle in Gondor, and you will be the sole heiress of Rohan." She did not say a word, suddenly knowing with terrible certainty that he was speaking the truth. "Although the people of Rohan will follow you, none can stand against Mordor and prevail. You would be Queen of a doomed kingdom."
"Enough!" She clawed the air with her free hand, as if trying to chase the dark visions he had painted. "You offered me the future of Rohan as a trade. How do you propose this, if none can stand against Mordor?"
"None but I can stand against Mordor, for I have the source or the Dark Lord's power." He held out his hand level with the floor, and opened it to reveal a gold ring. She gasped.
"You ..."
"The Ringbearer was dead when I found him, my lady. I would not have taken it otherwise."
"But you did."
"I did. The One Ring is a powerful weapon. It consumes its owner, Éowyn. I would not see it consume you."
"My patience is wearing thing, snake. What trade do you offer me?"
"The future and safety of Rohan. The people will follow you, my lady, but they will also look to you for protection. If you agree to this trade, you will have the power to give them that safety, and more. Prosperity, security, peace."
"And if I do not agree to the trade?"
"Then you will do as you planned. You will go into battle, disguised as a man, and you will find death alongside your kin. And Rohan will be lost forever."
"And in return, what do you ask?"
"Only your hand in marriage, Lady Éowyn."
"Only my hand?" She faced him boldly, her meaning clear.
"Only your hand," he repeated, meeting her eyes level. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword as she considered his offer.
They were wed in high summer, on mid-year's day, after the mourning for her uncle and brother had ended. His predictions had proven true, and she would do whatever it took to ensure the safety of Rohan. She wore white and scarlet, as was the tradition in Rohan. White, the colour of kingsfoil, was also the colour of mourning, as the young bride mourned the childhood she was leaving behind. Scarlet was the colour symbolising the fertility a marriage would hopefully be blessed with.
Far beyond the borders of Rohan, the praise of Éowyn, Warrior Queen of Rohan was sang. She was said to be wise and kind, and from the furthest borders of Rohan, people came to ask her counsel, or to hear her ruling in a dispute. Yet she was not hesitant to go to war if war was necessary for the freedom and prosperity of her people, and it was said that in battle, she was worth a dozen men.
Rohan blossomed under Éowyn's reign, and for years, its people were content. But people started to worry, and old women were gossiping among themselves. "Why is there not yet an heir to the throne?" they asked. "If there is no heir soon, it will be too late. The line of Eorl will end with Queen Éowyn, and we will be without a king to govern us and protect us."
She went to him in the nightgown that had been made for her wedding night, but which she had never used. He had kept his word in this as well, his touches never straying beyond brotherly at most. She found herself getting used to them, expecting him to be at her side, always. She hated him for it, for making her dependent on him, and for giving her no choice but to go to him of her own free will.
"My lady?" He looked confused, at a loss for words as she had never seen him before.
"The people want an heir to the throne."
"There are many men in Rohan who would gladly give you one."
"I will not crown a bastard King of Rohan, my lord." He was silent then. "The Ring," she whispered. "Would you remove it?"
He slid the Ring from his finger, and laid her on his bed. She went willingly, but not gladly, and when he attempted to kiss her, she turned from his lips.
And so it was that in the seventh year of the Third Age of Middle Earth, Théomer, son and heir to Gríma and Éowyn Queen of Rohan, was born. He was raised a true son of Rohan. Taught by his mother to ride, he soon became a familiar sight for the people of Rohan, and they soon came to love him as they loved his mother.
In his youth, there was strife between the people of Rohan and those of Gondor, for Gondor had been left without King or Stewart, and the Captains of Gondor now claimed kingship over all the West. But soon, the Captains themselves became subject to strife, and for two score years, war reigned in Gondor while Rohan thrived.
The people of Gondor came to Edoras seeking peace and protection, and the Queen had mercy on them. Soon, word was brought from Rohan that the Captains would place Gondor under the protection of Rohan, but that they would not give up their claim to the throne of Gondor to an old woman.
And so it was that in the year forty-seven of the Third Age, Théomer was crowned King of the Rohan and Gondor, three days after his mother had named him heir and forsaken her throne. She was not present at his coronation, and the King was crowned by Haleth, Captain of the Rohirrim.
Through her window she watched as her son became King. "Today ends the reign of Éowyn, Queen of Rohan, and the glory of Gondor and the Heirs of Isildur," she whispered to herself.
"The name of Gondor will become legend, my lady, as will yours." She was not surprised to find him standing behind her, nor did she startle when he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Do you regret forsaking your throne?"
"I regret no choice I have made in this life, my lord," she replied, and when she covered his hand with her own, the ring was cold under her fingers.