Éomer Imagine: Hearts Fire.

Éomer Imagine: Hearts Fire. Part Seventeen

(Y/N) had been holding Éowyn in her arms for hours, listening to her rattled sobs as the princess let her grief come crashing over her weary body in torrent waves. The maid had escorted the young royal back to her parents cottage, out of the questionable gaze of Gríma Wormtongue and into the comfort and peace of Yolinas decoration, where Éowyn had been plied with food and drink before setting herself by the fire while crying deeply. "I wish Éomer was here." The princess wailed sadly. "Everything has fallen onto my shoulders and I am afraid that I do not wish it there! Not for a moment longer!"

(Y/N) moved herself around gently to kneel down in front of Éowyn and flashed her a small smile. "Your brother will be so proud of you today, my lady. Such a tragedy will always evoke strong upset, but you are dealing with it so well. He would be so very proud of you, I swear it. But you must stay strong for him." 

"I don't understand, how did it come to this?" The royal whispered, staring out of the window as tears continuously tumbled down her cheeks. "It feels like a terrible nightmare, at any moment I expect to wake up."

(Y/N) sighed along with her friend, rising to her height before slouching into her fathers chair across the room and drawing into her own thoughts of the terrifying events that had happened in the last few weeks. Her mind wandered onto the notion of her mother and the girl blew out her cheeks sadly, holding her nose between pinched fingertips. "Believe me, I understand you. I feel exactly the same." The women then periodically sat in an unsettled silence for a while, each wrapped in their own prayers and desperate invocations while trying to remain composed for the sake of the other. It was only when an acute knocking broke its way across the sorrowful atmosphere that either of them dared to risk a look, glancing around quizzically to the front door that was beginning to rattle in its frame.

"Do not answer it-" Éowyn spoke lowly with a soured grimace as she moved to hide from the view of the window. "-No doubt someone will be looking to see where we are and I do not wish to face the condolences right now."

"I'm afraid that I must, my lady. It could be important. But I promise I will send any visitors away if it is business like that, as admittedly I feel the same way." (Y/N) pulled at the rusting iron door handle and was quite surprised to see a haggard Polaird stood on the other side, tapping his foot impatiently. The maid went to greet him with a sincere smile, but he extended out the palm of his hand while motioning his urgency. 

"Éowyn? Is she with you?" The old man asked before pulling the girl inside and closing the door stiffly. "Is she here?"

"Yes, of course she is. But Polaird, what is wrong??" (Y/N) could see the morbid curiosity dancing in his eyes and crossed her arms to wait for an answer.

"Today has been very tragic indeed-" Polaird sighed out and leaned back against an oak dresser that housed cast iron pots and several jars of cooking ingredients. "-I have my own theories on the matter of the prince, and there will come the hour for the songs of Théodred to echo around the royal halls, but now is not the time to entertain either of these comforts. Because while today is a tragic one, it is also tainted with a strangeness. We have a band of visitors up in Meduseld, requesting to speak with the king."

"Who is it?" Éowyn emerged from being hidden behind a cloak stand and stepped out to greet the butler in a demanding and inquisitive manor. "Which visitors??"