A constancy in battle

"What counts in battle is what you do once the pain sets in." -- John Short

But the helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes...

She should not die, so fair, so desperate! At least she should not die alone, unaided...

Suddenly the great beast beat its hideous wings, and the wind of them was foul. Again it leaped into the air, and then fell swiftly down upon Eowyn, shrieking, striking with beak and claw.

Still she did not blench: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair yet terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise...

-- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King