My Mother, Lady of Rohan
No, it’s not just the hair, though I’ll admit the hair is what got me started on this line of thought.
What about that soft, secret little smile?
The constant yearning for whatever’s over a distant horizon?
The refusal to be a quiet mouse in a man’s world?
The fierce protective streak?
The natural ability to lead and to be loved by those who follow her?
Mom likes horses, too.
Would Mom have railed against a confined life in the Golden Hall? Just as assuredly as Eowyn would have nursed every mile out of an old VW Beetle to commute to college while holding down two jobs. They both compromised a little after some grand adventures, and found a man to play house with for a while. Granted, Mom didn’t exactly marry a Faramir (Sorry Dad, love you, but NO WAY), but could Eowyn’s marriage really have lasted, either? Would the challenge of re-building her homeland have been enough to keep such a restless spirit tied to a man who didn’t truly understand her?
Would my mother have ever attempted to wield a sword against the Witch-King, or, well, anyone? Mom knew several Witch-Kings, in various forms, but as far as I know she stayed lady-like and non-violent in her confrontations with them. Years ago, she wrote one a scathingly professional termination letter and walked away, pride intact, but nursing near-mortal wounds to her self-worth and self-confidence. I would have liked to watch Eowyn castrate and behead the bastard instead, with a nice long time between the first action and the second. But according to Peter Jackson, Eowyn couldn’t cook her way out of a cast iron pot, so Mom’s definitely got her beat on that one.
In conclusion, my mother rocks and so does Eowyn. And I’m thrilled that Mom has a recent picture of herself that she’s proud to let me post all over the internet and compare to one of Miranda Otto. Love you, Mom. You’re the prettiest and most capable shield-maiden I know.