There she stood. Sword clenched in her hand. Staring death in the face. The White Lady of Rohan, the Shieldmaiden, the Child of Kings, Eowyn daughter of Eomund did not shy nor shake at the threat of the Witch King of Angmar. No. She would not cower to him. She had waited for this moment all her life. Why should she now be afraid? She determinded herself. Standing taller, clenching her teeth harder. She would not back down now.
The Fell Beast’s Master had made a threat to bear her away and torture her. And in him there was a sense of amazment because she did not seem to fear him, but he did well in not showing it. Anger arose in him as he realised she did not fear him. That would change soon enough, so he thought.
“Do what you will, but I will hinder it, if I may!” she cried. Her voice rang out like steel as she positioned herself for any attack he might lay upon her.
The Nazgul Lord could not comprehend why this soldier would even think such a thing. “Hinder me?” he scorned, “Fool! No living man may hinder me!”
She laughed. Her trick upon him had worked. He did think she was a man. The Witch King watched her as she mocked him in her voice.
“But no living man am I!” she said standing taller, “You look upon a woman! I am Eowyn, Eomund’s daughter! Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you if you touch him!”
The King of Angmar stared at her. And Lo! She was a woman. For she unleased her beauty and it shone. How it shone! Her long blond hair gleamed upon her shoulders and her grey eyes was like unto the sea.
The beast, much less cautious then it’s master, dove at her. But she was skilled and deadly and she jumped backwards. She dealt a swift stroke to the neck of the beast and it fell like stone with a last screach. It’s wings crumpled to the earth.
Out of the wreck rose the Black Rider. Tall and threatening. Malice arose in him and he let his mace fall. The strike was so strong it shivered her shield in pieces and broke her arm. Pain rushed through her. She stumbled to her knees. He raised his mace once more to kill.
But there was another, unseen to them both, who crawled in without a sound. Merry. He had heard the whole thing and had desided that Eowyn would not die. Not alone, anyway. He crept behind the Dark Master and, with his sword, he stabbed him behind his mighty knee. The Ringwraith King too fell forward.
Then, with her last strength, she drove her sword between his crown and mantle as his shoulders bowed before her. The sword suddenly shattered in to many shards. The crown rolled away with a clang. But Lo! The mantle and hauberk were empty. Eowyn fell forward upon her fallen foe.
Thus it was ended. The battle between the Shieldmaidden of Rohan and the Witch King of Angmar was over. Only one would live and one would die. The Lord of Angmar’s evil and malice was banished by a Lady of Lords who’s thirst for war was greater then him.
But the lady’s journey was not over. No. Her journey would next be going to the Houses of Healing, where her detiny would be desided. Whether she was contented to live with the knowledge that she had defeated the Great Witch King or would she thirst for more.
But that will not be shown now. Prehaps, another time…
We return to the forests again. Our hobbit friend has lost all faith and finds the true meaning of apathy by the end of this chapter. He is taken captive by a band of elves and one human. This chapter suggests that some of his past will be revealed soon.