As Far As The Heart Can See

Sorry for the delay. Here is the next chapter.


Chapter 8
“An unexpected Meeting”

Upon Éomer-King’s return to Rohan much had happened. Men had been sent to Helm’s Deep where the Lord Erkenbrand had once again taken up his duties.
From there he planned the rebuilding of the villages of Westfold, supported by the new Marshal of Westfold, Merewald, former Captain under the late King’s son.
The first task had been to provide the material needed to build the houses. By now there was a constant coming and going of groups of riders, carting wood and stones, taking a rest or riding out to help.
The women were put to the charge of controlling the food supplies, harvesting what there was to harvest and producing wool and linen for clothes.

It was all too soon clear, that it would not be enough. Too much had been lost by the Orcs, by Saruman knowing full well that the people would need it come autumn. And from the Eastfold – though they had not suffered as gravely as the West – could only be send up that much. It still would not keep.
Although the rebuilding of the homes was coming along well, it would not do to only have a roof over your head. And with as good as nothing to harvest, the provisions they had would not hold through the winter, if even until.
A messenger was send to Edoras on the second to last day of June and returned about a week later along with the Lady Éowyn, the King’s sister.

Her arrival took many by surprise and Ósle was not the only one doubting the tales which had been spread about the White Lady of Rohan after the war upon seeing her for the first time. She was tall but rather slim, clad in a simple but elegant riding habit.
Lord Erkenbrand greeted her and after she had had a wash-up – the lady refused a bath – and some food, they spent hours in his study.
That evening there was a small feast in her honour and because of the promise she made, it was a lively one.
After the tables had been cleared and before any loud talking could start, the Lady Éowyn took to her feet. The hall fell completely silent at once.
“I am here on behalf of my brother, Éomer-King. I know that he would have preferred to come himself as it is an important and pressing matter.
“Alas, another important matter was at hand as well – the returning of Théoden-King’s body to Edoras.”
Several gasps were audible.
“Therefore I am here. I come with his promise of seeing to your needs as quickly as possible as I have already discussed with Lord Erkenbrand.”
The man next to her nodded at that.
“I know all of you have lost much and there is nothing to repay you for the price you have paid,” she continued. “No words to soothe your aching and to bring back those lost forever.
“I – and my brother – thank you deeply for what you have done, all of you.”
Here she raised her goblet and said:
“I drink to all of you, to the future of Rohan and Middle Earth so that what we have lost was not in vain. Hail the victorious dead.”

As one the whole hall echoed ‘Hail’ raising their goblets as the Lady had done before drinking silently.
Ósle could hardly swallow, a lump had grown in her throat and tears were in her eyes. Now she believed those tales about the lady. There was a strength and determination radiating from the young woman. Her speech had been direct but understanding, strong and yet gentle, encouraging in the strangest way.
Lost in her thoughts, she did not see how the lady focused on her for a moment before leaning over to Erkenbrand, conversing quietly and motioning toward Ósle. She also did not notice that a little while later, Éowyn excused herself and left the hall.
Only when Asthryd eventually nudged her arm, did she snap out of her reverie.
“Leof approaches,” the older woman hissed and sure enough not a second later the senior healer stood by their table.
“Ósle – come with me. The lady Éowyn would like to speak with you.”

Flabbergasted and too stunned to speak, she simply nodded, stood and followed the healer shooting a perplexed look at the just as stunned Asthryd.
They walked out of the hall and down a corridor she had treated several times before.
And sure enough, they stopped in front of the same room in which Ósle had taken care of the King; well both Kings, the late and the new one.
Why did the lady want to speak with her? How could she even know about her?
Was it possible…had he…? No, it was absurd. He had forgotten her as quickly as she should have forgotten about him. Only she couldn’t.

Leof knocked on the door and opened it after hearing the positive reply.
“Here, my lady I bring you Ósle,” he said and bowed slightly while Ósle behind him curtsied.
The White Lady of Rohan sat in a chair near the unlit fireplace. She was clad in a dark green night robe, her feet tucked underneath herself. A small book lay face down on her lap.
She smiled, nodded and said:
“Thank you, Leof.”
The older healer bowed once more, knowing he was dismissed, left the room and closed the door. Ósle stood staring at the ground, very uncertain what to do. She felt the lady’s gaze on her and a slight blush crept onto her cheeks.
“Please, take a seat, Ósle. Would you like some tea?”
Haltingly the young healer looked up, finding the others eyes. Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked toward the empty chair across from the lady and sat down.

“I…yes, tea would be nice,” she replied shyly, the blush deepening, her posture still very stiff. The King’s sister poured her a cup of steaming, sweet smelling tea on a nearby table and handed it to her. Ósle took it with slightly shaking hands breathing a ‘thank you, my lady’.
The lady laughed melodically.
“Please, relax, my dear. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. I merely wish to thank you,” she said honestly and Ósle’s head snapped up.
“For what?” she asked, so surprised and confused she forgot to properly address the woman across from her.
“For tending to my Uncle and brother as you did after the battle here,” she answered with a smile and the young healer’s jaw dropped, staring at Éowyn at a loss for words.

“I…how…I,” she stuttered trying to clear her mind. She took a deep breath before trying again:
“I mean…how do you know, my lady?”
“My uncle told me. I had spotted my brother’s bandaged arm and…well, let me just say you left an impression on him.”
“On whom, my lady?” Ósle asked, wide-eyed. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, the cup of tea forgotten in still shaking hands.
“On my brother,” Éowyn replied and the healer blushed deeply. “And I see now that he left an impression, too.”
Ósle did not know what to make of the lady’s statement. Her voice sounded neither angry nor overly joyous. She chose not to reply and remained silent. The lady didn’t speak again and several moments passed in utter silence. Just what was the lady thinking? And why had the feeling of his lips on hers to reappear just now?
The young healer felt ashamed, embarrassed at her thoughts. Oh, what had she gotten herself into this time? Abruptly, Ósle stood.
“I…I think…it is best if I leave now, my lady. I thank you for the tea.” She put the cup down without having even tasted it and strode over to the door. Her hand was already on the handle when the lady’s voice halted her.
“Ósle, my apologies for my rash words. – Please sit down again. – My uncle seemed taken with you, too. He spoke rather fondly about your meetings.”
Once more Ósle sat down in the chair, this time more comfortably. But her eyebrows quirked upon the lady’s words.
“He did? But…well, your uncle, Théoden-King was very kind to me, my lady. And he gave me hope after the loss of my…guardian.”
“Did he? How so?”
And Ósle began to tell her tale.

TBC