Notes: With the army gone, Éowyn led the remains of her people to the valley of Harrowdale and the Hold of Dunharrow. Oh, and the connection between Éomer and his sister is a very strong one, she can actually feel the things he does when she is thinking of nothing but him.

Chapter 2 - Dunharrow

It was the second night since the King had led his host west towards Isengard. His niece Éowyn had led all women and children and old to the safety of the Harrowdale and the Hold Dunharrow below the Snowy Mountains. Armies could not attack them there without suffering greatly before even reaching the bridge of the river Snowbourn. The people of Rohan were safe.

The night air was growing colder. Éowyn was standing in front of one of the tents that had been erected. Around her people busied themselves with lighting fires and preparing dinner. Everything had been well organized, so well, that Éowyn once more felt useless. 'The people love you,' her uncle had said. But they obviously were in no need of her.

Her thoughts strolled back to the passing of the army one day ago. The King had led his troops; he rode between Éomer and Gandalf. Just outside the city walls he had turned his horse to look upon Edoras one last time. Seeing Éowyn standing outside Meduseld he had waved to her, Éomer following suit.

Only then did she see the two, nay, three riders who had been behind the King. They, too, had turned their horses and where looking up at her. But her eyes rested only upon the face of one of the three, Aragorn. He looked like one of the great kings of men Gandalf had told them about. It was already too dark to see his eyes, but she felt his gaze resting upon her. Her heart cried out to him, wishing him to be beside her.

Then he turned his horse abruptly, as if he longed to get away as quickly as possible. Her heart fell at this. Tears were clouding her eyes but she still saw the blond head of Legolas first turn into the direction of the ranger and then towards her. The tears were now running down her cheeks, and, being unable to behold this scene any longer, she fled back into the Hall.

Éowyn bit her lower lip. 'This is folly,' she repeated to herself again and again. And yet, she had never felt this alive in anyone's presence before, not even in the arms of her first lover, a soldier who had fallen while defending Rohan against a group of plundering and torching orcs. Dernhelm had been his name, and she could still see his face shine with joy when she finally had given in to his courting. But all the feelings she had once thought to be as strong as can be seemed insignificant now. Her heart had never beat in her chest the way it did when she thought of Aragorn. They had barely exchanged more than twenty words, she had been afraid to reveal too much of herself to him. But she had listened to everything he had said, memorizing even the tiniest thing.

Her head was spinning by now and she was glad when a girl came up to her asking her something concerning dinner. When the girl was gone again, Éowyn walked around the camp towards the road down into the dale. Great stones, the shape of men, had been erected at each turn of the road; no one could remember those who had made them anymore.

The night sky was filled with stars and Éowyn looked up to the familiar constellations. She remembered a time when her brother had taken her out onto the plains of Rohan at night on his tall war horse, she was sitting in front of him, leaning against her brothers strong chest. He had taught her the names of each star he knew and she had loved these little excursions. 'Brother, are you also watching the stars tonight?'

The sound of hooves was echoing up to her from the valley below. A rider bearing the colours of the Riddermark rode up towards her as fast as he could upon the step road. Two soldiers had joined Éowyn and before long the rider stopped in front of the three. One of the soldiers was just about to say something when the man exclaimed, "Hail Éowyn, fair Lady of Rohan. I bring you news of your brother." With these words he reached inside his tunic and pulled out a scroll, which he put into Éowyn's outstretched hand.

"Thank you, will you ride back right away or would you first like to join us for dinner?" The messenger explained that he had been ordered to return as quickly as possible and only asked for some water for both his horse and himself.

Soon he was gone again, now bearing a message from Éowyn that the camp had been set up and all the people were safely within it. Éowyn in turn had retired to her own tent to read her brother's message. Her heart beat heavily in her chest when she broke the seal. With shaking hands she unrolled the scroll.

The news was disturbing. When they had reached the Ford of Isen they had been informed of an Orcish attack just a day earlier. Many soldiers of the Riddermark had lost their lives there, fighting bravely against the Uruk-hai of Saruman. But worse still was the news that Isengard had been unleashed, a great host had left the valley of the Sorcerer and was now marching towards the King's army. Théoden had then decided to lead his force to the fortress of Helm's Deep. He had also send messengers to all those living in the hill surrounding the keep and those that dwelt in the Westfold. They would seek refuge in the Hornburg or the caves in the valley behind the keep.

Éomer had send this message the previous day, so by now he might already be ... No! she could not even think of it. He was alive; she'd feel it in her heart if he were dead. But just in this moment he might fight for his life, the battle raging about him. 'Brother! Don't leave me alone in the dark!' Tears were running down her cheeks, unobserved by her, for now her thoughts were fixed on something else, something equally troubling. Aragorn, he would surely be by her brother's side. In one way this was comforting, but in another it was terrifying. What if he died? She would not be able to live without him in her world. For the first time she realized distinctly what her feelings were, her feelings for the ranger. She loved him, loved him madly. She craved to be near him, no matter if that would mean death for her. Why had she allowed herself to be left behind? She should have insisted on joining them. She fell on her bed, crying into the pillows, holding her brother's letter to her heart.

The warm embrace of sleep had caught her while she was still crying. Now her dreams had taken her to the Hornburg, to where her heart was. She heard the cries of strong men, falling to the weapons of the Uruk-hai. Saw the sea of orcs, filling the valley as far as the eye could reach. There was Éomer, felling orcs with every thrust of his sword; by his side fought the elf Legolas and the dwarf Gimli. But where was Aragorn? At last her glance fell on him, surrounded not by Rohirrim but men, who wore the same kind of clothing as he. Rangers. But there were two others, dark-haired, with fair faces. Were they elves? She longed to be there, with him. Why couldn't she be?

Suddenly she heard a strange sound filling the valley, the rustling of leaves, orcs screaming. What was going on? Was this yet another of Saruman's devilries? Gandalf appeared next to Aragorn, urging him to drive the orcs before him backwards into the valley. He saw the ranger nod, and, for a split second, she had the impression that his eyes were resting on her, as if he drew strength from her. Then, as his hand covered the pendant around his neck, her heart almost stopped. Darkness consumed her, she lost sight of the battle, was lost in darkness.

She woke with a cry. Outside a new day was dawning, a day of either victory of utter defeat and death. How long would it take for a messenger to reach her here? How long until she knew if her loved ones where still alive? Her heart was numb; she couldn't feel anything but fear. She didn't know that far away at Helm's Deep Aragorn was fighting with his own feelings, unable to forget her face. She didn't know that the King was on his way to Isengard, or that her brother was heartsick at seeing Legolas leave with Aragorn. All she knew was that the end of all that she knew might be close, but hope kept her upright, hope to see again the eyes of the ranger, those eyes she had lost herself in.