Éowyn & Gildor
Ah, Edoras, home town of the Riders of the Riddermark. It was pleasant to be in a place that was at least somewhat safe against bandit raids and orc attacks, after all the road from Rivendell to Edhellond was long and not out of danger. Weird looks had been cast upon the elf, but Gildor did not mind it and merely continued to make his way through the streets, trying to find a place to stay for the night.
He climbed up a higher ridge nearby, his eyes wandering past the buildings in search for an Inn. Then, his eyes fell on something, or rather, someone different. With a small smile on his lips he jumped down and walked up to the woman, “It is not often that one’s eye spots a lady so fair, she could only seem to have stepped out of a dream.” He mentioned friendly. “I wonder if you can recommend me where to pass the hours of the night, ere the sun rises and I can continue my travels in somewhat safety?”
Éowyn sighed, her clean blue dress trailing behind her as she swept down the stone steps to Meduseld. She had a need to escape, but no matter how far her feet carried her she found herself facing another set of bars. No matter where she turned there was a jailer, a key. There was no one left whom she could trust, and her mind ached from the constant vigilance she needed to employ. The lady strode through Edoras, nodding her respect to the passing villagers. She still clung to hope, for it was all she had left.
A person passed her, one whom Éowyn quickly recognized as an elf. He was far too graceful to be a man. A glance at his pointed ears confirmed her suspicions. A smile graced her lips at his compliments and she bowed her head in gratitude. ”You are very kind, my lord,” she replied, a light flush tinting her cheeks. ”There are a host of inns this way,” Éowyn continued, gesturing to her side. ”I can lead you to one if you like.”
“Lord?” He repeated, his clear grey eyes twinkling with slight amusement. “I am no worthy of the title of Lord, mylady. Yet no words less than kind are to be said to you.” He looked in the direction where she was pointing, then nodded. “I would like so, indeed. I wish no offense but this city is quite different than where I come from.”
“My name is Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod.” He introduced himself with a quick bow, tucking his dark brown hair behind his pointy ears when he stood straight again. “Might I ask for yours?”
Éowyn smiled slightly and nodded her head in gratitude. "You flatter me," she responded, her eyes meeting his. She rightened, then, and headed off in the direction she'd pointed out. "It is no offense. Edoras does not hold many foreigners, and it is not well suited for those who do come upon it."
She bowed in response, clasping her hands in front of her as she straightened. "Éowyn of the house of Eorl," she responded.
