She hesitates, and he may not look at her, but she is looking at him; she fixes him with a deep and searching look as they ride, her brow furrowing a little and her lips pressed taut, not in anger but in almost-surprised consideration. At last, she shifts in her saddle, and her face softens into a half-smile that is only a little sardonic.
"At least," she decides, "you are honest in your dishonesty. Better that than nothing at all." And there is a hint of something in her tone that might almost be gentle mockery, although whether she is mocking him or herself, she cannot tell. "Let us have no more honesty, then; no words at all. It is too early to burrow deeply into sickness and fear, and we came to ride, not to talk of dark things." She tosses her head back, then, and looks up towards the rising dawn, over the walls of the hill-fort; and the smile that touches her lips then is less queenly, less sorrowful, and more human. There is an echo in that smile of a younger Éowyn, before duty drove the mischief and the wildness into retreat. "I will race you beyond the barrows. Let your Híril show her mettle."
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sforzinda
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Date: 2022-06-17 08:56 pm (UTC)"At least," she decides, "you are honest in your dishonesty. Better that than nothing at all." And there is a hint of something in her tone that might almost be gentle mockery, although whether she is mocking him or herself, she cannot tell. "Let us have no more honesty, then; no words at all. It is too early to burrow deeply into sickness and fear, and we came to ride, not to talk of dark things." She tosses her head back, then, and looks up towards the rising dawn, over the walls of the hill-fort; and the smile that touches her lips then is less queenly, less sorrowful, and more human. There is an echo in that smile of a younger Éowyn, before duty drove the mischief and the wildness into retreat. "I will race you beyond the barrows. Let your Híril show her mettle."