The overflowing catafalque
Minas Tirith, 15 III 3019 TA, evening
With tremendous sadness Gandalf and Aragorn looked upon the three bodies. Washed and arranged as to give off an impression of rest they gave false hope of at least one of them rising to lead their nation. Alas, all three were cold dead – Theoden, Eomer and Eowyn. The line of Eorl was dead. Unless there were some obscure Eorling nobility with distaff claims.
- "I had not cared for Rohan enough" – Gandalf confessed to the Ranger Chieftain.
- "I did not visit Meduseld often enough as to intercept the power of Saruman before it grew too powerful. Had I been a better shepherd of the lands I was sent to attend some of them would be alive, or they – or Thoedred - would have left rosy cheeked babes to ensure an uncontested succession."
- "Ay," – Aragorn interjected, "- there already are two camps of the Rohirrim outside the city, with hostility growing by the minute. Erkenbrand and Elfhelm have each sent honour guards and the Citadel Guards had to break up a fist fight between them."
- "Bodes ill for the future, this does", the Grey meddler tut-tut-ted.