Clean and groomed, Éowyn is - stunning. Galinda is struggling to make sense of it. It is not that she is especially beautiful in the way minstrels sing of, or artists take as a muse. It is not how graceful and feminine her movements are, or about the curves of her body. There are countless women who would be accounted more beautiful than her, and yet -
And yet Galinda is quite unable to look away from her, fascinated by the way she shrugs her shoulders, by the calluses on her hands, by how rare and sweet her smiles are. It makes her nervous, which perhaps makes her talk too much, but they are both floundering in a situation neither has encountered before. She had not expected to be lady-in-waiting to a queen such as this, had expected someone more like her mother - elegant and withdrawn, regal and cool. Éowyn is not the kind of woman in the songs and stories Galinda knows, and it makes her even more intriguing.
She stands as Éowyn does, smoothing down her skirts and offering the other woman a smile. Éowyn's voice is a little ragged, her eyes dark with exhaustion, and even if Galinda would have been happy to keep talking for hours she is not about to be unkind to her guest.
"Of course," she says, "and I shall fetch my pallet into your privy room, if you like, so as not to disturb you." There will be other women sleeping there - there are women sleeping all over the hold, and they are lucky to be inside when some of the soldiers have had to resort to the stables - but needs must, as her mother says, and surely Éowyn's wishes are the priority here. "Shall I have the cooks send up supper for you, later on?"
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sforzinda
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Date: 2025-07-08 09:42 am (UTC)And yet Galinda is quite unable to look away from her, fascinated by the way she shrugs her shoulders, by the calluses on her hands, by how rare and sweet her smiles are. It makes her nervous, which perhaps makes her talk too much, but they are both floundering in a situation neither has encountered before. She had not expected to be lady-in-waiting to a queen such as this, had expected someone more like her mother - elegant and withdrawn, regal and cool. Éowyn is not the kind of woman in the songs and stories Galinda knows, and it makes her even more intriguing.
She stands as Éowyn does, smoothing down her skirts and offering the other woman a smile. Éowyn's voice is a little ragged, her eyes dark with exhaustion, and even if Galinda would have been happy to keep talking for hours she is not about to be unkind to her guest.
"Of course," she says, "and I shall fetch my pallet into your privy room, if you like, so as not to disturb you." There will be other women sleeping there - there are women sleeping all over the hold, and they are lucky to be inside when some of the soldiers have had to resort to the stables - but needs must, as her mother says, and surely Éowyn's wishes are the priority here. "Shall I have the cooks send up supper for you, later on?"