Galinda has known for a while that this day would come - not so long as her brother, who is told everything, but for long enough to help her mother prepare for what a princess might want, what a queen will need. They had to guess at her proportions for richly embroidered garments, and send those on ahead, but Galinda had been the one who chose the smaller gifts: the brooches, the ribbons, the pretty rainbow-hilted knife. Things that a young woman might like, although perhaps not rich enough for a young woman who is also a queen. This is the sort of thing Galinda worries about: will her gifts offend the Queen of Rohan, who is to be an honoured guest and then her own mistress? Has she chosen well enough, with the coin made available for these small things? Most of it has gone to pay the men, to build the machinery of war, and Galinda has never been especially good at making ends meet.
She has been told that Éowyn has been cruelly treated, but no more than that. Galinda is not sure there is much more than that; everyone knows that the Queen of Rohan barely speaks when she is present, and is present only from time to time. She has heard her mother's ladies commenting quietly that were she not seen to be alive and hale, the people would revolt against their lord. This does not, to Galinda, sound very promising. One cannot simply keep a queen chained - or worse, execute her as a common traitor - but the tone of voice suggests that the ladies anticipate something like that. And they had silenced themselves when Galinda came into view, curtseying with their heads down rather than looking up into her eyes as they usually do.
There is something dreadfully wrong in Rohan.
Her father has sent an army - an army! - to put the queen back on her throne instead of, as he says, beside it. This is a matter of honour, he says, and of bloodline, and his mouth curves up in a way Galinda does not like. And she will owe you her crown, she thinks but doesn't say out loud, because she might be pretty but she is not as stupid as people sometimes think. Her father never does things just because they would be nice, or because they would benefit someone. Her father is always thinking of himself, and his kingdom, and even if you can't quite see how you must always know the thought is there.
She is part of the plan, this time; unneeded at home, sent behind the army with her tent and her gowns and her jewels and her ladies, told to remain behind the army until they enter Edoras in triumph - but at that moment, if she can achieve it, she is to ride directly behind Éowyn. And in the meantime, she is to befriend her, and write often to her loving parents.
Galinda is not sure friendship is quite so malleable; but she promised, as she always promises, to do what she is told.
They have settled in one of the border castles for a week, then a fortnight, before thundering hooves foretell the arrival of the young queen with the men sent to bring her back or die in the attempt. Galinda is bustled down the steps and outside to wait for her, two women behind her and more of the army starting to gather around to see the woman their king has sent them to defend. She has heard that Éowyn is fair, of course - who has not? - but then her mother is said to be surpassingly fair too, and Galinda is a little dubious about the claim.
But it is true: Éowyn is indeed fair, and sits her horse like a queen, her fair hair streaming behind her like a banner, her eyes the grey of river stones. Galinda finds herself curtseying without even realizing it, such is the power and majesty of the woman before her. And she would speak, would answer, but a lord has stepped in front of her and risen first to help the young queen of Rohan off her horse and answer her concerns.
"We are ready, your grace," he says, rough voice gentled for her. "We will have you inside the gates with her grace my lady Galinda, and the men will ride out. No harm will befall you, I swear it on my life." Which is a very pretty speech, and all Galinda can do is curtsey again and gesture to the castle behind them, solid stone, from which even now men are spilling out to defend the queen they have been sent for.
"If you will come with me?" she offers, holding out an arm, hoping that it can be this easy to escort Éowyn away from danger, as she is supposed to do - that she will not try to insist on being at the front of the battle as a man might, as Galinda has been warned she might.
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sforzinda
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Date: 2025-06-14 10:27 pm (UTC)She has been told that Éowyn has been cruelly treated, but no more than that. Galinda is not sure there is much more than that; everyone knows that the Queen of Rohan barely speaks when she is present, and is present only from time to time. She has heard her mother's ladies commenting quietly that were she not seen to be alive and hale, the people would revolt against their lord. This does not, to Galinda, sound very promising. One cannot simply keep a queen chained - or worse, execute her as a common traitor - but the tone of voice suggests that the ladies anticipate something like that. And they had silenced themselves when Galinda came into view, curtseying with their heads down rather than looking up into her eyes as they usually do.
There is something dreadfully wrong in Rohan.
Her father has sent an army - an army! - to put the queen back on her throne instead of, as he says, beside it. This is a matter of honour, he says, and of bloodline, and his mouth curves up in a way Galinda does not like. And she will owe you her crown, she thinks but doesn't say out loud, because she might be pretty but she is not as stupid as people sometimes think. Her father never does things just because they would be nice, or because they would benefit someone. Her father is always thinking of himself, and his kingdom, and even if you can't quite see how you must always know the thought is there.
She is part of the plan, this time; unneeded at home, sent behind the army with her tent and her gowns and her jewels and her ladies, told to remain behind the army until they enter Edoras in triumph - but at that moment, if she can achieve it, she is to ride directly behind Éowyn. And in the meantime, she is to befriend her, and write often to her loving parents.
Galinda is not sure friendship is quite so malleable; but she promised, as she always promises, to do what she is told.
They have settled in one of the border castles for a week, then a fortnight, before thundering hooves foretell the arrival of the young queen with the men sent to bring her back or die in the attempt. Galinda is bustled down the steps and outside to wait for her, two women behind her and more of the army starting to gather around to see the woman their king has sent them to defend. She has heard that Éowyn is fair, of course - who has not? - but then her mother is said to be surpassingly fair too, and Galinda is a little dubious about the claim.
But it is true: Éowyn is indeed fair, and sits her horse like a queen, her fair hair streaming behind her like a banner, her eyes the grey of river stones. Galinda finds herself curtseying without even realizing it, such is the power and majesty of the woman before her. And she would speak, would answer, but a lord has stepped in front of her and risen first to help the young queen of Rohan off her horse and answer her concerns.
"We are ready, your grace," he says, rough voice gentled for her. "We will have you inside the gates with her grace my lady Galinda, and the men will ride out. No harm will befall you, I swear it on my life." Which is a very pretty speech, and all Galinda can do is curtsey again and gesture to the castle behind them, solid stone, from which even now men are spilling out to defend the queen they have been sent for.
"If you will come with me?" she offers, holding out an arm, hoping that it can be this easy to escort Éowyn away from danger, as she is supposed to do - that she will not try to insist on being at the front of the battle as a man might, as Galinda has been warned she might.