Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
DISCLAIMER: The following posts are based on the scenes in the movies listed, not on the book (if applicable) the movie is based on. I also added my own twists and take on certain characters. It's more like fan fiction than anything else. You can laugh all you want!
Where was Merry? Eowyn hadn't seen him since her horse threw them and the elephaunt nearly fell on her.
Everywhere she looked, it was chaos. The battlefield was noisy and gory. She felt a cold hand clutch at her heart. Merry wouldn't last a moment out here without her to protect him. She looked around for him again, calling his name. Her voice was slightly higher than usual. Useless girl, she berated herself.
Before she could make any progress with her search, something else caught her attention. A black shadow passed overhead, and a fearsome Nazgul, bearing the Witch King himself, grabbed for Theoden, Eowyn's beloved uncle and Rohan's king.
As she watched, both horse and rider were thrown into the air. The horse died quickly, with a deep gash from the dragonlike Nazgul.
Theoden's horse landed on top of him. Eowyn's throat constricted with horror. Uncle!
"Feast on his flesh," the Witch King ordered in his gravelly, chilling voice.
He's going to kill him!
Eowyn moved. It wasn't an act of conscious thought as much as her loyalty and devotion placing her between her uncle and the beast.
I will not fail my king as I did Merry, Eowyn vowed ferociously. She hefted her sword, swallowing against her fear, trying to stare down the Witch King and his Nazgul.
"Do not come between a Nazgul and its prey," the Witch King warned almost calmly.
"I will kill you if you touch him," Eowyn snarled, her own courage surprising her. She stayed where she was, between the king of Rohan and the Nazgul.
The beast stretched out its long neck, flashed its many sharp teeth, and lunged for her.
Her reflexes saved her life. Eowyn twisted away, somehow getting her sword up to hack at the creature's neck.
The Nazgul let out a scream that made Eowyn's skin crawl, but she hit it again, putting all her strength behind the blow, and its head flew off in another direction. The beast's decapitated body wobbled, then fell to the side. Eowyn watched, heart pounding, as the Witch King slowly picked himself up in the midst of the carnage. When he got up, he carried a mace in one hand and a sword in the other.
Eowyn felt a wave of fear as she stared at the mace. It was long and heavy, with many spikes and metal bits that looked to be as sharp as needles. She looked around wildly, then grabbed up a nearby wooden shield and slid it onto her left arm.
Theoden looked up weakly at the brave soldier who still stood between him and the Witch King. He marveled at the soldier's courage but wasn't encouraged by the odds. It was said no man could destroy the evil creature. The courageous soldier was doomed to failure whether he knew it or not.
The Witch King swung the mace. Eowyn barely evaded the weapon. Her heart was beating so violently she felt as if she ought to be able to see it breaking through her chest.
He swung the mace again. Eowyn dodged. The third time he swung, she threw up her shield, having no time to move.
The wooden shield splintered and fell off her arm in pieces. Pain clouded Eowyn's vision for a moment as she clutched her left arm to her chest, certain the bones had fractured, if not broken.
A wave of dizziness accompanied the pain, and Eowyn fell, pressing up against the body of the horse and dropping her sword.
"Fool," the Witch King whispered, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. "No man can kill me. Now, die." He leaned over her and latched onto her throat with his right hand--his sword hand.
Eowyn forgot the pain in her arm as the Witch King began to choke the life out of her. She gasped, but was unable to bring in air. Her eyes widened, and the world turned black around the edges.
"Death!"
The battle cry came from somewhere near, from someone familiar.
Merry slashed at the Witch King with his sword, but immediately his blade was rebounded and the arm that had been wielding it burned with painful intensity.
The move made a difference, however. With her right hand, Eowyn was able to pry open the creature's metal-gloved fingers and gasp in a breath.
She pushed the Witch King away, grabbed her sword, and started to stand up. The Witch King began to reach for his sword, but she was too fast for him. Eowyn ripped off her helmet and allowed her long blonde hair to spill out.
"I am no man," she revealed with a touch of self-importance and triumph before delivering a solid blow with her sword through the mouth-hole of the Witch King's helmet.
His dying scream was ten times worse than the Nazgul's. Eowyn hollered, her ears ringing. On the ground, Merry writhed.
The Witch King seemed to fold in on himself. In seconds, all that was left of him were his two weapons and a bundle of black fabric.
Adrenaline high, Eowyn stared at the remains of the Witch King and Nazgul for half a second before instantly turning to her uncle Theoden.
She lowered herself to the ground and painfully made her way right next to Theoden and the dead horse.
Her uncle had a dazed look on his face. Weakly, he raised one gloved hand and touched her cheek.
"I know your face," he whispered, and Eowyn smiled, remembering a time when he'd said those exact words, shortly after the White Wizard expelled the spirit of Saruman from him. "Eowyn."
Then he said something else--something Eowyn had dreaded.
"My eyes darken."
Her smile disappeared. She felt tears threatening to come on, but she pushed them away with an effort. "No," she told Theoden tenderly. "I'm going to save you."
Theoden smiled. "You already did," he replied. "Eowyn... Do not grieve for those whose time has come."
She lay next to him, staring at his face, her heart frozen in her chest.
"Eowyn..." Theoden caressed her cheek again, speaking with visible effort. "My body is broken. You have to let me go." As if sensing her reluctance, he added, "I go to my fathers, in whose mighty company I will not be ashamed."
Tears spilled down Eowyn's cheeks. The light in Theoden's eyes was fading. He attempted to say one last word: "Eowyn." Then his hand fell and the light left his eyes. Eowyn knew the life had left him.
She began to sob, resting her head on her uncle's chest. His great legacy would remain, and she vowed to take up the throne with valor and honor equal to that of Theoden's. Then perhaps, when she died in later years to come, she, too, would not be ashamed to be in the mighty company of her fathers--and her uncle.
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