Rise (Lord of the Rings)

42 - Questions That Needed Answering

The people of Edoras had left Helm's Deep not too long after the battle had ended. Most were heading back, a select few accompanied King Théoden to Isengard—wherever that was. So, to lead the women, children, and injured soldiers back to their city was Éowyn.

On the day we arrived back to Edoras, the original inhabitants could not have been happier. Things could maybe go back to normal for them now. Since the king and his company had not come back to the city, the control temporarily went to Éowyn to keep watch over the people.

It had been three days since everyone had settled back into Edoras. Things, from what I could tell, were slowly becoming normal again. Of course, the only time I observed the city was when I sat on the Golden Hall's steps, gazing out into the village. The steps were where I mostly stayed, other than the room Éowyn let me stay in. Naturally, she bunked with me.

I knew her intentions behind me staying in the same room with her: she was still trying to get me to speak to her. She most likely knew that I caught on to the reason behind my bedding arrangements.

I stepped out of the Golden Hall's doors, basking in the sunrise. Lately, I'd become an early riser, with no idea why. I was adorned in a light red nightgown with sleeves that stopped at my elbows. I carefully perched myself on a step, gazing out at the sleeping village.

I breathed through my nostrils, thoughts already running through my mind. I still wondered how I got the injuries that were currently healing. All that had been wrapped when I had woken up in Helm's Deep were now dressings-free; they were able to air out and heal.

I tenderly touched my forehead, feeling for my healing gash. Éowyn had yet to tell me how I got my injuries. Of course, I never bothered to ask, so I was at fault there.

My thoughts roamed to the other members of the group that had accompanied Éowyn in greeting me when I woke up in the caves. They were still out at Isengard with the king. Did they know how I got my wounds? Would any of them be able to help me remember who I was?

The only things I knew for a fact was that I was a Hobbit, lived in the Shire, and I was way far away from home. And, according to the conversation I had heard back in Helm's Deep, I had apparently fought in the battle there. Even though the idea seemed impossible, it partially explained my wounds, but I wanted to know specifics.

Yet, maybe if I got the details I wanted, I wouldn't like hearing them.

"You're out here again?" a soft voice asked behind me.

I merely nodded. I did not trust Éowyn enough to speak to her, but I did trust her enough to communicate with her non-verbally. She seemed content with what interaction I was giving.

"Food is available if you want it," she told me. From the corner of my eye, I saw her sit next to me on the step I was perched on. She sighed. "It's beautiful, isn't it? The sunrise, I mean."

I nodded.

"I wish you would talk to me," she whispered carefully. "I want to help you, Marlena, I really do. I cannot do that when all I get from you is a nod, shake of the head, a shrug, or a facial expression."

I had accepted the fact that my name was Marlena the day we had arrived back to Edoras.

"I wonder why I'm even bothering to get you to talk to me when all I'm doing is talking to myself." She sighed deeply. "I know you'll come around, you'll have to if you want others to help you."