His Queen

Chapter 33 - Kitra

The bustling sounds of the people of Edoras echoed around Kitra as they moved quickly, carrying chests and belongings out from the Golden Hall. The preparations for their evacuation were well underway, and the tension in the air was palpable. Kitra walked through the hall, Alana by her side as they discussed their departure plans. Her eyes scanning the people as they packed what they could in preparation for what was to come.

As they made their way around a corner, her gaze fell upon Eowyn, who had opened a chest. Kitra stopped to watch as Eowyn reached inside and pulled out a sword, its blade gleaming in the dim light of the hall. Eowyn unsheathed it with a sharp sound, holding it up with practiced ease. Kitra's eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the woman run her hand down the blade, the glint in her eyes revealing more than just a passing familiarity with the weapon.

"I'll meet you at the Stables." She told Alana so she could talk with Eowyn for a minute.

Eowyn began to move with the sword, practicing a few swings, her form precise and focused. But as she turned, her blade met an unexpected resistance—Kitra's knife, held steady to block her strike.

For a moment, the two stood frozen, the sword and knife locked against each other. Kitra's expression was calm, her voice steady as she spoke. "You are skilled with a blade," she remarked, her admiration for Eowyn's talent clear.

Eowyn's eyes met Kitra's, and she swung her sword swiftly, releasing it from the clash with Kitra's knife and gracefully returning the blade to its sheath. There was no hesitation in her movements, and her voice was firm as she replied, "Women of this country learned long ago: those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."

Kitra studied her for a moment, sensing there was more beneath Eowyn's words. "What do you fear?" Kitra asked, her voice soft but probing.

Eowyn's gaze hardened as she turned sharply, her eyes locking with Kitra's. There was something fierce and raw in her expression as she answered, her voice filled with deep emotion. "A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire."

Kitra stood still, watching the fire in Eowyn's eyes as she spoke of the cage, the unspoken truth behind her words becoming painfully clear. Eowyn longed for battle, for purpose, and feared being trapped in a life without it.

Kitra shook her head slightly, her voice gentle but firm as she responded. "I share a similar fear. We cannot let it consume us though."

Eowyn turned away, her shoulders tense as she returned the sword to the chest. "You cannot understand," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "You are free to fight alongside the men, to prove your valor on the battlefield. I am expected to stay behind, to watch and wait while others risk their lives."

Kitra stepped closer, placing a hand on Eowyn's arm. "I do understand," she said softly. "More than you know. There is much you do not see on a surface level. I am captive to a darkness I cannot escape. It's claws hold me in tight. I may be able to fight freely among men but in the darkness I am trapped alone."

Eowyn turned to face Kitra, her eyes searching the other woman's face. A flicker of understanding passed between them - a shared sense of being trapped, even if the cages that held them were different.

"I'm sorry," Eowyn said quietly. "I did not realize..." She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words.

Kitra gave her a small, sad smile. "Few do." She sighed, her gaze distant for a moment before refocusing on Eowyn. "Do not lose hope yet. I am sure you will find your way to the battlefield in time."

Eowyn's expression softened slightly at Kitra's words, a glimmer of hope rekindling in her eyes. "Perhaps you are right," she said, her voice still tinged with frustration but also a newfound determination. "Somehow, I will find a way to fight for those I love and protect."