Éowyn trembles as she stands, and Galinda's hands clench into fists to keep herself from reaching out to help. Now, she feels, is not the time, and perhaps she is not the person. Instead she stays still, watching the other woman's eyes, pretending not to see the tears brimming in them - and listens silently until Éowyn runs out of words.
Then and only then does she reach out her hands towards the young queen, not touching - just coming close enough that Éowyn could take her hand for support, should she wish to, or her arm, or lean on her shoulder with only a step closer.
"I understand," she says softly, gazing into those clear grey eyes. "I will not forget it." It seems suddenly very important that Éowyn should know it to be truth, that Galinda should remember. For a moment there is nothing in the world except the two of them: Galinda, and this entrancing woman who has cast a spell over her within minutes of their very meeting.
The rumble of voices passing by the chamber startles her out of it, and Galinda recollects herself enough to remember that Éowyn is still in her bath and will soon be cold. There is a towel just by her, and she reaches to take it and wrap it around the other woman, smoothing it down over Éowyn's shoulders.
"Come, we shall get you out," she says gently, "and then I will get your clothes and perhaps some spiced wine, if you like? I would not have you catch a chill." And this is only the ordinary courtesy of a host to a guest, but to Galinda it feels oddly like it ought to be something more.
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sforzinda
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Date: 2025-07-06 05:24 am (UTC)Then and only then does she reach out her hands towards the young queen, not touching - just coming close enough that Éowyn could take her hand for support, should she wish to, or her arm, or lean on her shoulder with only a step closer.
"I understand," she says softly, gazing into those clear grey eyes. "I will not forget it." It seems suddenly very important that Éowyn should know it to be truth, that Galinda should remember. For a moment there is nothing in the world except the two of them: Galinda, and this entrancing woman who has cast a spell over her within minutes of their very meeting.
The rumble of voices passing by the chamber startles her out of it, and Galinda recollects herself enough to remember that Éowyn is still in her bath and will soon be cold. There is a towel just by her, and she reaches to take it and wrap it around the other woman, smoothing it down over Éowyn's shoulders.
"Come, we shall get you out," she says gently, "and then I will get your clothes and perhaps some spiced wine, if you like? I would not have you catch a chill." And this is only the ordinary courtesy of a host to a guest, but to Galinda it feels oddly like it ought to be something more.