At its core, his story isn't that unusual. Of course, most people don't have mentors who are centuries old — unless their mentor is an elf, of course, but that's an entirely different topic of conversation — and most people didn't have almost their entire family massacred, but these days, being one of the few surviving members of your family is a relatively common occurrence.
She knows that grief intimately.
"I have one sister," she offers quietly, her eyes downcast. "She was supposed to remain safe in Meduseld during the war, to guard the throne in our uncle's absence, to keep the peace and give our people hope that the line of Eorl would not be extinguished should our desperate attack against Mordor fail. But she disguised herself as a common rider and joined the march to Gondor despite my pleas for her to remain. I did not notice her in the throng, not expecting to see her amongst the rest of the men. I'm afraid my sanitized tales of the éored's exploits have instilled in her an obsession with honor and glory and she will not be dissuaded from it. She now lies in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith, at the mercy of the acolytes attempting to salvage her broken body and restore her spirit."
That Éowyn fulfilled her wish, slaying with Witch-king of Angmar and saving their uncle from the ignoble death of being eaten by a Nazgûl's fellbeast while Éomer was distracted elsewhere, is cold comfort now. Being forced to leave her in Gondor so that she could guide her people home and bring her uncle's body back to be laid to rest properly was a pain Éomer did not expect to bear on top of all the others she's endured in the last year.
"I know it is not quite the same thing, but I understand your pain."
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Date: 2020-09-21 06:02 pm (UTC)She knows that grief intimately.
"I have one sister," she offers quietly, her eyes downcast. "She was supposed to remain safe in Meduseld during the war, to guard the throne in our uncle's absence, to keep the peace and give our people hope that the line of Eorl would not be extinguished should our desperate attack against Mordor fail. But she disguised herself as a common rider and joined the march to Gondor despite my pleas for her to remain. I did not notice her in the throng, not expecting to see her amongst the rest of the men. I'm afraid my sanitized tales of the éored's exploits have instilled in her an obsession with honor and glory and she will not be dissuaded from it. She now lies in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith, at the mercy of the acolytes attempting to salvage her broken body and restore her spirit."
That Éowyn fulfilled her wish, slaying with Witch-king of Angmar and saving their uncle from the ignoble death of being eaten by a Nazgûl's fellbeast while Éomer was distracted elsewhere, is cold comfort now. Being forced to leave her in Gondor so that she could guide her people home and bring her uncle's body back to be laid to rest properly was a pain Éomer did not expect to bear on top of all the others she's endured in the last year.
"I know it is not quite the same thing, but I understand your pain."