Minas Tirith, 24th March 3019
Elfhelm has kept watch for years now; seen her sorrows mount, stood between her and the Worm as best he could. He knew to look away when Dernhelm rose from nowhere. He will not yield her to anyone unworthy, not even the lord of two kingdoms.
The Steward is heavy-hearted, moves slowly, puts the back of his chair against the wall before sitting. Believes if all fails even the horsemen must take to the hills. But when Éowyn enters, his face lightens. “Lady,” he says, turning to look up to her. “Sit. I would hear your counsel.”
And Elfhelm surrenders.