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King Elfwine called you to the throne room. It was the winter of 74, and you were shaking from the cold and fear of what your brother would think of your latest rebellion against his *ahem* SMALL orders. On your waist sat an Elvish sword, given to you by Queen Evenstar(Arwen for those ppl who didn't READ THE BOOKS!) Your dress is a pale blue.

You bow about 10 feet from the throne and look up. The king's expression holds some anger but more sorrow and resignation. Next to him is your aunt Eowyn, lady of Ithilien. Your brother rose when he saw you apporoach. Eowyn laid a hand on his arm, which he simply brushed off. He held you by your shoulders and looked into your eyes. 'Do not ever run away from here again. Do not.' You flinch. He was truly hurt this time, you could see that in his eyes.

You embrace him deeply. 'I am truly sorry, my lord. Please forgive me.' What would he do now? you thought.

'Please do not be so formal, sister. There is no need for that.' Your heart lifts and your soul shines through your eyes at this.

He smiles and sends you and Eowyn out of the hall to catch up.


Your bio: You are a Rohanian warrior by the name of Eolyen. Your brother, Elfwine, is the king of Rohan. Your mother, Cibatare, had died when you were born. She had come from a distant and long forgotten land.

You inheirited your father's light hair and your mother's small frame and dark eyes. Your father has taught you well in swordplay; your mucsules are well-toned at the age of 20.
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