"No." She is, but Glinda is not about to say anything of the sort, not when Éowyn stands here before her looking like she is only a step away from collapse. Not when she can gather the other woman into her arms, hold her close, and try to fight back her tears as she realizes just how thin Éowyn is now, just how small. This is not the woman who left her four months ago, so brave and proud. This woman could barely stand in mail. This woman should be in bed, an invalid, being fed nourishing broths and tended by physicians.
"Come, sit," she says softly, and does her best to pretend tears are not glittering in her eyes as she draws away again - but her hands do not leave Éowyn's arms; she may be tired, may be sore from hours of riding a fast horse, may want nothing more than drink and rest, but she is still far better off than the young queen is. "Let me call for food and wine, sit with me and tell me - everything. I would know all of it, Éowyn. I have missed you so dearly."
There are chairs by the fire; there is an uncertain maid by the door, flanked now by one of the courtiers Glinda glided past on her path to see Éowyn, but neither of them dare enter or say anything now that they see how Glinda is received by their queen. She glances back at them, daring them with a look to do anything but her bidding, and is rewarded by the maid bobbing another curtsey and disappearing. The man is less easily intimidated, and so she simply ignores him. He is unimportant. Éowyn is here: there is nothing else in the world.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sforzinda
no subject
Date: 2025-07-26 12:30 am (UTC)"Come, sit," she says softly, and does her best to pretend tears are not glittering in her eyes as she draws away again - but her hands do not leave Éowyn's arms; she may be tired, may be sore from hours of riding a fast horse, may want nothing more than drink and rest, but she is still far better off than the young queen is. "Let me call for food and wine, sit with me and tell me - everything. I would know all of it, Éowyn. I have missed you so dearly."
There are chairs by the fire; there is an uncertain maid by the door, flanked now by one of the courtiers Glinda glided past on her path to see Éowyn, but neither of them dare enter or say anything now that they see how Glinda is received by their queen. She glances back at them, daring them with a look to do anything but her bidding, and is rewarded by the maid bobbing another curtsey and disappearing. The man is less easily intimidated, and so she simply ignores him. He is unimportant. Éowyn is here: there is nothing else in the world.