Disclaimer:
This is a fanfic. All people and places mentioned belong to Tolkien. (Except the "Westfold": that is a place in Norway, too!)
.
Thanks to:
Susi-Schatz (a good friend who helped me with the English) and Vereena (who motivated this translation and helped, too)! ;)
If you like the Eowyn/Grima pairing, go and visit her site! (But in that case you surely know it already...)
http://vera.iatp.org.ua/vereena
.
Senseless Author's note:
This story came to me on a hot summer day last year when I watered flowers in the yard. I went barefoot all day, because it was so hot...
First, there were no strawberries at all. But as I like them so much and it was season then, I decided to have some in it.
.
Now, read and enjoy!
.
________________________
The King's Strawberries
________________________
It was an exceptionally hot summer day in Edoras.
And despite the oppressive heat, that let the air over the horizon flicker in the morning, it was an exceptionally beautiful day for me.
The dusty city lay empty, because nearly everyone was in the fields, where all hands were needed at the hay harvest.
Only a few had stayed in Edoras: some old people (among which, as I knew, the king could rank too); who were hardly able to do much more than looking for a shady place and taking a little nap there; some pregnant women who weren't allowed to do hard work in such weather, and a group of young children not yet old enough to be of any use outside in the meadows.
And me; because - as the king's counsellor - my scope of responsibility of course did not include manual labour. I could imagine better than being one of those unfortunate commons working now in glowing heat and suffering a heat stroke.
No, I was glad being able to dedicate the whole inexorably hot day to my favourite occupation. Observing.
Certainly the children, the old people and those few ponderous women didn't make all too interesting objects, but there was still somebody left in the city. Somebody worth observing.
Eowyn.
In the morning, the king had decided that she should stay home, for yesterday I already talked him into various more or less plausible reasons for it. I didn't feel any desire to bore myself in the empty city, when the empty city with Eowyn in it was so much less boring.
Of course she had been rather angry hearing that she wouldn't be allowed to go the fields too; but today her complaints to her brother and cousin fell upon deaf ears. Theodred even affirmed a second time that she should rather stay at the city to „look after things" (whatever that meant).
In truth he and Eomer simply were glad getting the rare possibility to whistle after maids undisturbed and sing indecent songs that belonged to hay harvest within all living memory. And today they even wouldn't have to give consideration to the virgin ears of a sister and cousin; especially since the king would stay in Edoras, too.
However, the virgin sister and cousin had been lovely furious, because she felt herself to be treated in an unfair way, and to my great pleasure she wore her „Eowyn-is-proud-and-doesn't-show-her-feelings"-face for half the morning. Of course, everyone who isn't a complete dotard could notice her discontent immediately, for her face reflects all her moods as true as an unrippled water surface; but still she believes herself to be very inscrutable.
After the work of the morning was done - animals must be fed and vegetable patches watered no matter how hot the weather is - tables for the joint luch were set up in the meagerly existing shade. The meal was limited to dry bread crumbled into a lukewarm milk soup and vinegar water for drink.
In this heat nobody had large appetite.
Of course I didn't eat outside with the common people, but dined together with the king in the cool Hall - and I enjoyed Eowyn serving the meal and setting up the table. She diluted wine with water and brought a loaf of white bread, - for vinegar water and brown bread are hardly sufficient for a king and his counsellor. She even tried to maintain a table discussion, but unfortunately - or should I say, fortunately? - her uncle has not been very talkative of late, so she couldn't get around exchanging a few words with me.
Luckily, I could even convince her to have her meal with us and not outside in the heat, so this time I got the opportunity watching her eat in every detail, without a jealous brother sitting at her side, in whose presence one had to justify each look.
I watched her in delight and greedily drank in the images of her every action: how she gripped the spoon with her beautiful fingers, crumbled the bread, sipped the milk, swallowed, tilted her plate a little, then dipped the last remains of soup with peaces of bread and finally (the sight arousing most pleasant thoughts!) carefully licked the spoon clean, like a young cat.
Afterwards, she rose, cleared the table and requested permission to go. The king answered with indefinite humming and nodding; and I offered to lead him to his chambers where he could take his afternoon nap. Meanwhile, Eowyn would have forgotten me - for I know she dismisses my existence only too gladly - and therefore I would be able to observe her even better (hadn't it been me, I would have called it: the more impudent) in the afternoon.
However, noon did not offer much excitement.
I could just as well have put myself to sleep like the king or the children, holding their nap on benches or leaned against each other in the cool shade. The air seemed to stand still. An old granny told fairytales in a sleep-inducing voice, and the women chatted a little while patching up dresses.
The best was yet to come.
*****
Early afternoon was the time of the largest heat. The old people had went inside the houses and the children bathed in one of the horse watering places to cool down.
Their disgusting screeches were almost deafening, and they splashed water until everything and everyone within a circle of twenty steps round was soaking wet. For a little while I cherished a hope that it would perhaps by coincidence include Eowyn or at least a part of her clothes - for I'd loved to see her with soaked hair and wet skirts - but to my regret I realized that she wasn't near the watering places.
Actually I had no idea where she was, because somehow I had lost sight of her.
I must have dozed off briefly.
For quite some time I searched the paved square, the dusty sideways, the stone stairs and the terrace all over with my eyes - but no trace of her was to be seen.
I cursed my sleepiness and was just about to give up searching, when at last I rediscovered her as she came up the way to the Hall.
Obviously, she had been in the gardens, for she carried a dish with strawberries for the dinner of her uncle.
These strawberries are intended for no less use than the table of the king: thery 're a special and expensive sort from Gondor being much larger and sweeter than the usual wild strawberries. Everybody, except the king (if he doesn't allow someone to taste - and thus lucky I had been only one time), has to be content with the domestic fruits that are so tiny there's nearly no flavour.
On her way, Eowyn came past the children that now had drawn a hopping game on the dusty ground and apparently tried to persuade her to play with them - judging by how they surrounded her and pulled at her skirts begging. She stopped, hesitating, and looked around in precaution, to make sure no adult was near who could have dissaproved such behaviour.
She didn't discover me. I'm an observer for long enough to know how to see without being seen.
Finally she agreed, laughing, and set her dish aside to the dolls, wooden swords and hobbies already waiting patiently for their little owners, then slipped out of her shoes and joined the game.
When Eowyn threw her stone and gathered her skirts to skip, I had to hold my breath.
Her naked ankles and bare feet - so very white against the grey dust! - were an overwhelming sight indeed, even from the distance. And how much more, since she gave herself no trouble hiding them from greedy eyes like mine. She completely concentrated on her skipping, being so lost in the game, that she unconsciously bit her lower lip.
Both feet - left foot - both feet - right foot - both feet - crossed... oh, I knew well, having had to watch often enough as a child, not being allowed to play along.
However, Eowyn surely never has had to stand by watching; skilled skipper she still was, although she had not participated in such childish game for years. The strict quiet niece of the king, always acting so controlled and cool and grown-up outwards, now having red cheeks out of enthousiasm, throwing her head back in laughter and indignantly stamping her foot when she accidently crossed a line.
That perhaps would have surprised some naive observer, but not me. I know beneath her well-bred civilized surface she's an untamed little savage; reined up with difficulty only by a thin layer of nice dresses and strict duties.
When it was Eowyn's turn again, she skipped a second and third time, and I tried to imprint the picture in my mind as firmly as possible, so that I could keep it and recall it to my mental eye whenever I wanted to: Eowyn, for a precious moment completely lost in herself and as high-spirited and free as the young horses on the plains that are not yet broken in and know no master. As wild and beautiful as a frothy creek in the mountains that rushes from steep rocks into the valley.
I was spellbound of so much unrestrained beauty and stood torn between demand to see her close and caution that advised me to remain at my place, so she could not discover me and stop her game.
Finally, an unexpected lucky coincidence relieved me from the hard decision, for the regular alternation of players suddenly stopped. No skipping anymore. The voices became loud and excited. Something had happened. Angry gestures and shaking of heads. A quarrel!
I rejoiced inwardly. This was my chance. Whatever reason; *who* would make a qualified mediator better than the King's counsellor? Even if it was only an insignificant diversity of opinion between some little brats, I now had full right to interfere, because as the deputy of the King *my* voice possessed power to decide over right or wrong. And besides, this gave me possibility to continue my contemplation of Eowyn's bare feet from next proximity.
Leisurely and trying not to look over-hurried (to intensify the impression of coincidence), I sauntered over to the group of children. The voices became clearer.
"...you can't!", I heard the angry voice of a boy older than the other children; actually already old enough to help on the fields. He had been left behind, because he carried his right arm in a loop, and thus was useless for work.
"And why ?" Eowyn's voice was firm and steady, completely obvious she felt herself being right.
"Because that is hell, that's why!" the answer came from several children at the same time.
"And...?" Her voice became a little bit unsteady. It seemed to me as if she didn't know the relevant rule.
The boy groaned on so much ignorance.
"Surely, ya don't wanna go to hell?", asked a small girl with frightened face.
"Nnnno...", insured Eowyn and tried to relent: "So I'll suspend this passage."
"That's not allowed!" The boy was furious now. ?You lost! Who sets foot into hell, loses the game! Everyone knows!"
Now it was on Eowyn to be furious. "I did *not* know! Do you think I tried to cheat?" Her eyes sparkled dangerously.
If he actually had meant to suggest such a thing, then Eowyn's little opponent would now rather withdraw. After all, she was much older and - not to be forgotten! - still the niece of the king.
"Doesn't matter," he shrugged his shoulders. "You lost nevertheless."
I had to smile at how Eowyn unconsciously clenched her hands into fists at this words.
A little warrioress, through and through. So impulsive, so convinced of the fact that she was right, so devoted still to such insignificant a thing - then how much more devoted would she be ... (I carefully avoided to lead this thought on end, but rather spared it for the evening and an environment more undisturbed.)
She stubbornly persisted in her opinion.
"I did not *lose*."
The word "lose" came over her lips only with difficulty, and it must have sounded almost intolerable to her ears, for Eowyn is indeed a very poor loser. You must say, however, that with this she doesn't stand alone by any means. Rohan is a whole country of poor losers. Even I myself am a poor loser, and that is perhaps the only thing that distinguishes me as a Rohirrim. The conception of defeat does not fit into the heads of proud and strong northmen, who are only used to victory.
*****
However, I considered that the suitable moment for interfering now had come.
"Is there a disagreement here?", I interrupted with pretended anxiety. The controversy grew silent and the children turned over to me in astonishment.
I'm not seen particularly often outside the hall.
"Oh... and you are there, too!" I didn't give myself trouble to fake surprise all too convincingly.
"Most certainly you offered yourself as mediator?"
Eowyn was so shocked by my unexpected emerging that she needed some moment to grasp the full absurdity of the situation.
"I...I...no... - I mean..."
Her superciliousness had gotten lost suddenly.
Embarrassed, she shifted back a sweaty strand of hair, what let her look so lovely like a guilty little girl who has been caught right in the act of some naughtyness.
"I wouldn't dare believe," I continued sugar-sweeltly "the Lady of the Golden Hall could find pleasure in dragglinging her feet by hopping in the street dust among little children... or am I supposed to be mistaken?"
I demonstratively attached my view to Eowyn's traitorous shoes, and then mercilessly back to her bare (but still *so* touching pretty) feet. As if by magic, all eyes followed mine, and Eowyn's cheeks already warmed by the game now flushed in fire (no! strawberry!) red.
"Indeed, indeed... one shouldn't believe..." I shook my head in mild blame. "But I am completely sure you had a very good reason for this behaviour..."
She opened her mouth to defend herself against my unexpressed reproach but she could not think of any justification, and would never resort to lying - even small emergency lies; so she had to close her mouth again without having said anything.
Obviously, the mockery in my words had slipped the children, or it was of no matter to them, because they considered their game by far more important; so the larger boy - who seemingly enjoyed playing the leader very much- addressed me: "You are the king's counsellor, sire... maybe you could decide this for us? She..." he pointed to Eowyn, "lost the game, but states that she did not!" He looked up to me in hope.
I was surprised by his approach; the last time a child had addressed me *voluntarily* was past for so long that I couldn't remember it any more. That boy had to be immensely serious. I nearly admired his courage.
"Well; but to administer justice, I have to know all circumstances," I answered in official tone. "And therefore, both sides shall be heard, before I come to my decision. Will you explain to me, how the controversy started?"
The boy nodded seriously. "We asked her if she knew the game and perhaps wanna play along...and she said:'yes'. And now, she fouled the jump, set her feet into hell, you understand...?" (here I nodded my head slightly, as if this mention was a thing of highest importance... - oh what fun this delicious little comedy was!) "...so she lost, but she denies it!"
He looked around, waiting for cheers. His eyes were self-righteous and proud. He was
sure he would come out as winner. I only had to confirm it in public, because *my* word had more weight than his... and also more than Eowyn's.
Meanwhile, she had stood beside, grinding her teeth; and I enjoyed her helplessness in this absurd little scene. She could not escape; for once she would have lost her face if she simply ran away without explanation - which she would never permit - and in addition she finally had to put on her shoes again which now stood in short but nonetheless unreachable distance. A fight - that she usually would have preffered - was ruled out likewise; for where was the enemy? Whom should she fight? The small boy? Me?
Hardly.
No, the only thing that remained to her was to act her role in this ridiculous little play and bending to my advice. Imprisoned in her own cords of honour and pride I nearly could have pitied her; but it felt too good to be superior.
"Well, you heard it," I turned to her with all the severity of a judge, being one now. "What is your explanation in this case? Have something to state to your defence?"
She only stared at me, annoyed; but I calmly gave back her glance.
"Indeed. Nothing...? Nothing, really? Now then... it is true, then - I regret - you actually lost the game." I played out my trump card. I knew her too well. She couldn't stand for that.
"I didn't know the rule," she had to object, even if unwilling.
I made huge effort to hide my smile. Hadn't I known? Had she simply accepted to be the loser (mind you! loser of a senseless, stupid children's game!), the embarrassing situation would have been over by now.
But no! Her pride didn't allow this.
Now, very well. She didn't want to have it any other way; so! Let's play our little game to an end. The pleasure should be completely on my side!
„How's that possible?" I faked surprise, although to me the thing was clear enough. „By what we heard just now, you said you knew the game when you agreed to play along, did you not?" The children nodded their approve like little jurors.
„That is true," her answer came quiet and reluctantly. „I *thought* I knew the game."
„But...?", I inquired strictly.
„But where I come from... we play it different."
„In what way different?"
„It is no bad thing to step into hell. That's a completely normal playing field. To get to heaven, you must go through hell. Otherwise, what would be it's purpose?" She shrugged her shoulders. „That's how it is played in the Westfold."
The children murmured in disbelief. They seemed to be unsure whether they could agree to this explantion. It was hard for them to believe that in other places you play according to other rules.
I myself was briefly distracted; because I let her words melt in my mouth: „To go to heaven, you first have to go through hell. Otherwise, what would be its purpose?" That could have made a proverb.
„But we aren't in the Westfold; we're in Edoras!" the little boy impatiently interrupted my thoughts, when he saw his chances on victory shrinking.
„In Edoras, hell is forbidden!"
„Yes; in any case, you're right," I determined.
„Also, we've got no proof about how the rules for heaven&hell really are in the Westfold..."
„What do you mean?! I do *not* l..." Eowyn rebelled, but I ordered silence by a gesture of my hand and - strange as it was - she obeyed.
„...Of course there's little reason for doubting word of the king's kin, so we will take that for granted. Nevertheless she made a mistake. As a result, she has lost the game, according to the local rules. But since we must assume she wasn't aware of this special rule, my advice reads: this round is to be explained as invalid and Eowyn shall skip again now. Are there any objections?"
The children innocently shook their heads and obviously seemed to believe this to be a clever and appropriate decision.
Only Eowyn stared at me alarmed and in disbelief.
She alone did realize I wasn't interested the slightest in quarreling and stupid games of little brats. She did realize what was the game I was interested in: I give the orders and Eowyn has to do as I say. All the same whether she wants it or not; and of course, she does *not* - otherwise it would be only half the fun.
Eowyn was going to skip, because *I* said so.
Eowyn was going to improperly show her pretty ankles in public, because *I* wanted to see them.
Eowyn was going to make a complete fool of herself, because it pleased *me*.
She was fully in my hand and could do nothing about it.
I didn't hide my smile any longer.
*****
„No objections? Well, so what are you waiting for? The field is yours!" I pointed to the lines drawn in the dust.
I could hear her grinding teeth as she finally made up her mind to submit to my judgement and at least get through with this as fast as possible, if there was no way to avoid it.
This time, she drew up the hem of her skirt only to a minimum, not to leave one inch of her white skin to my greedy eyes fightless. Well, that certainly was lost labour.
„O please!" I declined, „There's no need to be embarrassed by my modest presence!" And I smiled even broader to make it clear that it was completely appropriate to be embarrassed. „This way, you will only stumble and run the risk of losing. And surely you don't want to risk that, do you?"
Teasing her in this helpless situation was impudent, inconsiderate; it was mean. And it was great fun.
She avoided looking at me and finally did the only thing reasonable: threw her little stone that - as was to be expected - landed in heaven, then courageously gathered up her skirts and skipped after it as fast as possible to not let my triumph last by any means one moment longer than neccesary. She swiftly took up the stone and turned back; and the same moment her feet left the field she released the fabric of her dress, as if it had burned her fingers.
„There." she stubbornly showed the little stone. „I *didn't* lose."
It was a most stupid, childish justification; and she knew it very well.
„O my congratulations!" I applauded mockingly. Some children applauded likewise, thus making the whole scene even more absurd. Eowyns little rival shot nasty glances to her and me, before angrily hurling his stone to the opposite direction and walking off.
The other children turned back to their toys and left as well. I overheared a girl teaching her friend: „You see? Just like I said! Nobody can actually have a tongue like a snake. His tongue was completely normal!"
„But my grandpa said..."
„And *my* grandpa said..."
I missed whatever interesting those grandfathers' opinions about the outer shape of my tongue might have been, because I turned myself to more important matters. Eowyn.
„By the way, I never doubted one instant, you - as niece of the king - would come out as the winner of each children's game you choose to participate in," I explained. „If purely for the age difference."
She was very busy tying up her shoes and she let her hair curtain her face to cover her newly flushing cheeks, but I knew her too well to not notice how much ashamed she was.
*****
Suddenly, an idea came to my mind. I decided to fill up the measure.
The afternoon did come out so well, why should I deny myself this final highlight?
The opportunity scarcely would present itself again anytime soon.
„Nevertheless, you can't deny," I picked up my last words, „this time I helped you to your victory. Don't you think this should be worthy of a small acknowledgement?"
She looked up.
„What do you mean by this?"
„Oh, you're not to kiss me, have no fear! Although I must admit that would be very enticing... But I think I could be content with some of those strawberries instead."
The king's strawberries, even more shining red than Eowyns lips and cheeks, and nearly just as sweet, I'm sure. A worthy substitute.
She leapt up and clasped the dish in shock, as if to protect the precious fruits from my unworthy hands.
„Those are the king's!"
„And I'm the king's counsellor," I argued gently but steadily. „Don't you think he will gladly grant me this small request when he learns of the fact you owe me your today's victory?"
It was a threat, and she noticed, for she turned pale.
„Don't tell my uncle! Please."
I smiled happily. I like it when she has to beg me for something.
„Better tell your brother?"
To my regret, that didn't seem to impress her much. I actually could have known by myself this could hardly frighten her. Eomer wouldn't believe one single syllable from my mouth; especially when my words were - in what way ever - done to diminish the honour of his sister. So I gave in.
„However, if you would be so generously to give me those berries *now*; I see no reason asking the king for it tonight."
Her eyes narrowed. „How many?"
I did, as if I needed to consider some time what would be a fair price to reward my services.
„A handful." I decided and stretched out a hand, my fingers requesting.
She gasped in protest, but finally bit her teeth and obediently reached into her dish. Without a word, she let the red fruits fall into my hand, carefully avoiding touching me by accident.
„Thank you very much, milady!" I bowed formally and then enjoyed the first strawberry.
Annoyed, she watched me tasting one sweet fruit after the other, taking my time to fully enjoy the rare flavour and the rare satisfaction to see Eowyn being envious of me. (Because I was absolutely sure she had forbidden herself to eat even one strawberry in the gardens. And now she had to watch with regret that I did so; I, who was so much less worth it.)
I sucked the red flesh with relish and let the sweet-sour flavour slowly grace my tongue.
„Ahhh..." I sighed theatrically, „A taste incomparable to anything else, don't you think?"
Her eyes sparkled angrily; but she did not answer.
„Nevertheless; I would give one to *you*; they're so delicious. Would you like?" I displayed the last remaining strawberry in my open palm.
She frowned, but this time her pride triumphed.
„No!"
„Just as you like." I put the last strawberry into my mouth.
She grimaced; and though she normally avoids regarding me directly, she now almost stared at my lips with some kind of fascinated aversion. Amused, I stared back.
„Well? What's the matter? Why not carry that dish inside?! These strawberries are far too expensive to let them spoil in the heat!" I reminded her and without waiting for an answer set off up to the Hall.
On the stairs, she caught up with me. She now wore her usual stoic face again.
„You really won't tell my uncle?"
„No. Promised."
She nodded briefly and then passed me, hasting up to the Great Hall.
(Little fool! What use would it have been to tell the king? At best, he would smile in forbearing: „If she takes pleasure in it! Leave her be; only one summer more. She's still so young..."
No, to have heard her beg me had been a far better satisfaction!)
*****
All in all a very fruitful afternoon, I summarized in my mind:
I had watched Eowyn when she thought herself unobserved,
witnessed her lovely little feet,
embarrassed her in public,
let her beg me,
and finally captured a handful of the king's strawberries from her which she would have liked to eat herself.
I licked my lips, tasting the sweet flavour of the red berries.
An exceptionally beautiful day, indeed.
.
.
THE END.
.
Reviews are highly appreciated! Thank you. ^_^
This is a fanfic. All people and places mentioned belong to Tolkien. (Except the "Westfold": that is a place in Norway, too!)
.
Thanks to:
Susi-Schatz (a good friend who helped me with the English) and Vereena (who motivated this translation and helped, too)! ;)
If you like the Eowyn/Grima pairing, go and visit her site! (But in that case you surely know it already...)
http://vera.iatp.org.ua/vereena
.
Senseless Author's note:
This story came to me on a hot summer day last year when I watered flowers in the yard. I went barefoot all day, because it was so hot...
First, there were no strawberries at all. But as I like them so much and it was season then, I decided to have some in it.
.
Now, read and enjoy!
.
________________________
The King's Strawberries
________________________
It was an exceptionally hot summer day in Edoras.
And despite the oppressive heat, that let the air over the horizon flicker in the morning, it was an exceptionally beautiful day for me.
The dusty city lay empty, because nearly everyone was in the fields, where all hands were needed at the hay harvest.
Only a few had stayed in Edoras: some old people (among which, as I knew, the king could rank too); who were hardly able to do much more than looking for a shady place and taking a little nap there; some pregnant women who weren't allowed to do hard work in such weather, and a group of young children not yet old enough to be of any use outside in the meadows.
And me; because - as the king's counsellor - my scope of responsibility of course did not include manual labour. I could imagine better than being one of those unfortunate commons working now in glowing heat and suffering a heat stroke.
No, I was glad being able to dedicate the whole inexorably hot day to my favourite occupation. Observing.
Certainly the children, the old people and those few ponderous women didn't make all too interesting objects, but there was still somebody left in the city. Somebody worth observing.
Eowyn.
In the morning, the king had decided that she should stay home, for yesterday I already talked him into various more or less plausible reasons for it. I didn't feel any desire to bore myself in the empty city, when the empty city with Eowyn in it was so much less boring.
Of course she had been rather angry hearing that she wouldn't be allowed to go the fields too; but today her complaints to her brother and cousin fell upon deaf ears. Theodred even affirmed a second time that she should rather stay at the city to „look after things" (whatever that meant).
In truth he and Eomer simply were glad getting the rare possibility to whistle after maids undisturbed and sing indecent songs that belonged to hay harvest within all living memory. And today they even wouldn't have to give consideration to the virgin ears of a sister and cousin; especially since the king would stay in Edoras, too.
However, the virgin sister and cousin had been lovely furious, because she felt herself to be treated in an unfair way, and to my great pleasure she wore her „Eowyn-is-proud-and-doesn't-show-her-feelings"-face for half the morning. Of course, everyone who isn't a complete dotard could notice her discontent immediately, for her face reflects all her moods as true as an unrippled water surface; but still she believes herself to be very inscrutable.
After the work of the morning was done - animals must be fed and vegetable patches watered no matter how hot the weather is - tables for the joint luch were set up in the meagerly existing shade. The meal was limited to dry bread crumbled into a lukewarm milk soup and vinegar water for drink.
In this heat nobody had large appetite.
Of course I didn't eat outside with the common people, but dined together with the king in the cool Hall - and I enjoyed Eowyn serving the meal and setting up the table. She diluted wine with water and brought a loaf of white bread, - for vinegar water and brown bread are hardly sufficient for a king and his counsellor. She even tried to maintain a table discussion, but unfortunately - or should I say, fortunately? - her uncle has not been very talkative of late, so she couldn't get around exchanging a few words with me.
Luckily, I could even convince her to have her meal with us and not outside in the heat, so this time I got the opportunity watching her eat in every detail, without a jealous brother sitting at her side, in whose presence one had to justify each look.
I watched her in delight and greedily drank in the images of her every action: how she gripped the spoon with her beautiful fingers, crumbled the bread, sipped the milk, swallowed, tilted her plate a little, then dipped the last remains of soup with peaces of bread and finally (the sight arousing most pleasant thoughts!) carefully licked the spoon clean, like a young cat.
Afterwards, she rose, cleared the table and requested permission to go. The king answered with indefinite humming and nodding; and I offered to lead him to his chambers where he could take his afternoon nap. Meanwhile, Eowyn would have forgotten me - for I know she dismisses my existence only too gladly - and therefore I would be able to observe her even better (hadn't it been me, I would have called it: the more impudent) in the afternoon.
However, noon did not offer much excitement.
I could just as well have put myself to sleep like the king or the children, holding their nap on benches or leaned against each other in the cool shade. The air seemed to stand still. An old granny told fairytales in a sleep-inducing voice, and the women chatted a little while patching up dresses.
The best was yet to come.
*****
Early afternoon was the time of the largest heat. The old people had went inside the houses and the children bathed in one of the horse watering places to cool down.
Their disgusting screeches were almost deafening, and they splashed water until everything and everyone within a circle of twenty steps round was soaking wet. For a little while I cherished a hope that it would perhaps by coincidence include Eowyn or at least a part of her clothes - for I'd loved to see her with soaked hair and wet skirts - but to my regret I realized that she wasn't near the watering places.
Actually I had no idea where she was, because somehow I had lost sight of her.
I must have dozed off briefly.
For quite some time I searched the paved square, the dusty sideways, the stone stairs and the terrace all over with my eyes - but no trace of her was to be seen.
I cursed my sleepiness and was just about to give up searching, when at last I rediscovered her as she came up the way to the Hall.
Obviously, she had been in the gardens, for she carried a dish with strawberries for the dinner of her uncle.
These strawberries are intended for no less use than the table of the king: thery 're a special and expensive sort from Gondor being much larger and sweeter than the usual wild strawberries. Everybody, except the king (if he doesn't allow someone to taste - and thus lucky I had been only one time), has to be content with the domestic fruits that are so tiny there's nearly no flavour.
On her way, Eowyn came past the children that now had drawn a hopping game on the dusty ground and apparently tried to persuade her to play with them - judging by how they surrounded her and pulled at her skirts begging. She stopped, hesitating, and looked around in precaution, to make sure no adult was near who could have dissaproved such behaviour.
She didn't discover me. I'm an observer for long enough to know how to see without being seen.
Finally she agreed, laughing, and set her dish aside to the dolls, wooden swords and hobbies already waiting patiently for their little owners, then slipped out of her shoes and joined the game.
When Eowyn threw her stone and gathered her skirts to skip, I had to hold my breath.
Her naked ankles and bare feet - so very white against the grey dust! - were an overwhelming sight indeed, even from the distance. And how much more, since she gave herself no trouble hiding them from greedy eyes like mine. She completely concentrated on her skipping, being so lost in the game, that she unconsciously bit her lower lip.
Both feet - left foot - both feet - right foot - both feet - crossed... oh, I knew well, having had to watch often enough as a child, not being allowed to play along.
However, Eowyn surely never has had to stand by watching; skilled skipper she still was, although she had not participated in such childish game for years. The strict quiet niece of the king, always acting so controlled and cool and grown-up outwards, now having red cheeks out of enthousiasm, throwing her head back in laughter and indignantly stamping her foot when she accidently crossed a line.
That perhaps would have surprised some naive observer, but not me. I know beneath her well-bred civilized surface she's an untamed little savage; reined up with difficulty only by a thin layer of nice dresses and strict duties.
When it was Eowyn's turn again, she skipped a second and third time, and I tried to imprint the picture in my mind as firmly as possible, so that I could keep it and recall it to my mental eye whenever I wanted to: Eowyn, for a precious moment completely lost in herself and as high-spirited and free as the young horses on the plains that are not yet broken in and know no master. As wild and beautiful as a frothy creek in the mountains that rushes from steep rocks into the valley.
I was spellbound of so much unrestrained beauty and stood torn between demand to see her close and caution that advised me to remain at my place, so she could not discover me and stop her game.
Finally, an unexpected lucky coincidence relieved me from the hard decision, for the regular alternation of players suddenly stopped. No skipping anymore. The voices became loud and excited. Something had happened. Angry gestures and shaking of heads. A quarrel!
I rejoiced inwardly. This was my chance. Whatever reason; *who* would make a qualified mediator better than the King's counsellor? Even if it was only an insignificant diversity of opinion between some little brats, I now had full right to interfere, because as the deputy of the King *my* voice possessed power to decide over right or wrong. And besides, this gave me possibility to continue my contemplation of Eowyn's bare feet from next proximity.
Leisurely and trying not to look over-hurried (to intensify the impression of coincidence), I sauntered over to the group of children. The voices became clearer.
"...you can't!", I heard the angry voice of a boy older than the other children; actually already old enough to help on the fields. He had been left behind, because he carried his right arm in a loop, and thus was useless for work.
"And why ?" Eowyn's voice was firm and steady, completely obvious she felt herself being right.
"Because that is hell, that's why!" the answer came from several children at the same time.
"And...?" Her voice became a little bit unsteady. It seemed to me as if she didn't know the relevant rule.
The boy groaned on so much ignorance.
"Surely, ya don't wanna go to hell?", asked a small girl with frightened face.
"Nnnno...", insured Eowyn and tried to relent: "So I'll suspend this passage."
"That's not allowed!" The boy was furious now. ?You lost! Who sets foot into hell, loses the game! Everyone knows!"
Now it was on Eowyn to be furious. "I did *not* know! Do you think I tried to cheat?" Her eyes sparkled dangerously.
If he actually had meant to suggest such a thing, then Eowyn's little opponent would now rather withdraw. After all, she was much older and - not to be forgotten! - still the niece of the king.
"Doesn't matter," he shrugged his shoulders. "You lost nevertheless."
I had to smile at how Eowyn unconsciously clenched her hands into fists at this words.
A little warrioress, through and through. So impulsive, so convinced of the fact that she was right, so devoted still to such insignificant a thing - then how much more devoted would she be ... (I carefully avoided to lead this thought on end, but rather spared it for the evening and an environment more undisturbed.)
She stubbornly persisted in her opinion.
"I did not *lose*."
The word "lose" came over her lips only with difficulty, and it must have sounded almost intolerable to her ears, for Eowyn is indeed a very poor loser. You must say, however, that with this she doesn't stand alone by any means. Rohan is a whole country of poor losers. Even I myself am a poor loser, and that is perhaps the only thing that distinguishes me as a Rohirrim. The conception of defeat does not fit into the heads of proud and strong northmen, who are only used to victory.
*****
However, I considered that the suitable moment for interfering now had come.
"Is there a disagreement here?", I interrupted with pretended anxiety. The controversy grew silent and the children turned over to me in astonishment.
I'm not seen particularly often outside the hall.
"Oh... and you are there, too!" I didn't give myself trouble to fake surprise all too convincingly.
"Most certainly you offered yourself as mediator?"
Eowyn was so shocked by my unexpected emerging that she needed some moment to grasp the full absurdity of the situation.
"I...I...no... - I mean..."
Her superciliousness had gotten lost suddenly.
Embarrassed, she shifted back a sweaty strand of hair, what let her look so lovely like a guilty little girl who has been caught right in the act of some naughtyness.
"I wouldn't dare believe," I continued sugar-sweeltly "the Lady of the Golden Hall could find pleasure in dragglinging her feet by hopping in the street dust among little children... or am I supposed to be mistaken?"
I demonstratively attached my view to Eowyn's traitorous shoes, and then mercilessly back to her bare (but still *so* touching pretty) feet. As if by magic, all eyes followed mine, and Eowyn's cheeks already warmed by the game now flushed in fire (no! strawberry!) red.
"Indeed, indeed... one shouldn't believe..." I shook my head in mild blame. "But I am completely sure you had a very good reason for this behaviour..."
She opened her mouth to defend herself against my unexpressed reproach but she could not think of any justification, and would never resort to lying - even small emergency lies; so she had to close her mouth again without having said anything.
Obviously, the mockery in my words had slipped the children, or it was of no matter to them, because they considered their game by far more important; so the larger boy - who seemingly enjoyed playing the leader very much- addressed me: "You are the king's counsellor, sire... maybe you could decide this for us? She..." he pointed to Eowyn, "lost the game, but states that she did not!" He looked up to me in hope.
I was surprised by his approach; the last time a child had addressed me *voluntarily* was past for so long that I couldn't remember it any more. That boy had to be immensely serious. I nearly admired his courage.
"Well; but to administer justice, I have to know all circumstances," I answered in official tone. "And therefore, both sides shall be heard, before I come to my decision. Will you explain to me, how the controversy started?"
The boy nodded seriously. "We asked her if she knew the game and perhaps wanna play along...and she said:'yes'. And now, she fouled the jump, set her feet into hell, you understand...?" (here I nodded my head slightly, as if this mention was a thing of highest importance... - oh what fun this delicious little comedy was!) "...so she lost, but she denies it!"
He looked around, waiting for cheers. His eyes were self-righteous and proud. He was
sure he would come out as winner. I only had to confirm it in public, because *my* word had more weight than his... and also more than Eowyn's.
Meanwhile, she had stood beside, grinding her teeth; and I enjoyed her helplessness in this absurd little scene. She could not escape; for once she would have lost her face if she simply ran away without explanation - which she would never permit - and in addition she finally had to put on her shoes again which now stood in short but nonetheless unreachable distance. A fight - that she usually would have preffered - was ruled out likewise; for where was the enemy? Whom should she fight? The small boy? Me?
Hardly.
No, the only thing that remained to her was to act her role in this ridiculous little play and bending to my advice. Imprisoned in her own cords of honour and pride I nearly could have pitied her; but it felt too good to be superior.
"Well, you heard it," I turned to her with all the severity of a judge, being one now. "What is your explanation in this case? Have something to state to your defence?"
She only stared at me, annoyed; but I calmly gave back her glance.
"Indeed. Nothing...? Nothing, really? Now then... it is true, then - I regret - you actually lost the game." I played out my trump card. I knew her too well. She couldn't stand for that.
"I didn't know the rule," she had to object, even if unwilling.
I made huge effort to hide my smile. Hadn't I known? Had she simply accepted to be the loser (mind you! loser of a senseless, stupid children's game!), the embarrassing situation would have been over by now.
But no! Her pride didn't allow this.
Now, very well. She didn't want to have it any other way; so! Let's play our little game to an end. The pleasure should be completely on my side!
„How's that possible?" I faked surprise, although to me the thing was clear enough. „By what we heard just now, you said you knew the game when you agreed to play along, did you not?" The children nodded their approve like little jurors.
„That is true," her answer came quiet and reluctantly. „I *thought* I knew the game."
„But...?", I inquired strictly.
„But where I come from... we play it different."
„In what way different?"
„It is no bad thing to step into hell. That's a completely normal playing field. To get to heaven, you must go through hell. Otherwise, what would be it's purpose?" She shrugged her shoulders. „That's how it is played in the Westfold."
The children murmured in disbelief. They seemed to be unsure whether they could agree to this explantion. It was hard for them to believe that in other places you play according to other rules.
I myself was briefly distracted; because I let her words melt in my mouth: „To go to heaven, you first have to go through hell. Otherwise, what would be its purpose?" That could have made a proverb.
„But we aren't in the Westfold; we're in Edoras!" the little boy impatiently interrupted my thoughts, when he saw his chances on victory shrinking.
„In Edoras, hell is forbidden!"
„Yes; in any case, you're right," I determined.
„Also, we've got no proof about how the rules for heaven&hell really are in the Westfold..."
„What do you mean?! I do *not* l..." Eowyn rebelled, but I ordered silence by a gesture of my hand and - strange as it was - she obeyed.
„...Of course there's little reason for doubting word of the king's kin, so we will take that for granted. Nevertheless she made a mistake. As a result, she has lost the game, according to the local rules. But since we must assume she wasn't aware of this special rule, my advice reads: this round is to be explained as invalid and Eowyn shall skip again now. Are there any objections?"
The children innocently shook their heads and obviously seemed to believe this to be a clever and appropriate decision.
Only Eowyn stared at me alarmed and in disbelief.
She alone did realize I wasn't interested the slightest in quarreling and stupid games of little brats. She did realize what was the game I was interested in: I give the orders and Eowyn has to do as I say. All the same whether she wants it or not; and of course, she does *not* - otherwise it would be only half the fun.
Eowyn was going to skip, because *I* said so.
Eowyn was going to improperly show her pretty ankles in public, because *I* wanted to see them.
Eowyn was going to make a complete fool of herself, because it pleased *me*.
She was fully in my hand and could do nothing about it.
I didn't hide my smile any longer.
*****
„No objections? Well, so what are you waiting for? The field is yours!" I pointed to the lines drawn in the dust.
I could hear her grinding teeth as she finally made up her mind to submit to my judgement and at least get through with this as fast as possible, if there was no way to avoid it.
This time, she drew up the hem of her skirt only to a minimum, not to leave one inch of her white skin to my greedy eyes fightless. Well, that certainly was lost labour.
„O please!" I declined, „There's no need to be embarrassed by my modest presence!" And I smiled even broader to make it clear that it was completely appropriate to be embarrassed. „This way, you will only stumble and run the risk of losing. And surely you don't want to risk that, do you?"
Teasing her in this helpless situation was impudent, inconsiderate; it was mean. And it was great fun.
She avoided looking at me and finally did the only thing reasonable: threw her little stone that - as was to be expected - landed in heaven, then courageously gathered up her skirts and skipped after it as fast as possible to not let my triumph last by any means one moment longer than neccesary. She swiftly took up the stone and turned back; and the same moment her feet left the field she released the fabric of her dress, as if it had burned her fingers.
„There." she stubbornly showed the little stone. „I *didn't* lose."
It was a most stupid, childish justification; and she knew it very well.
„O my congratulations!" I applauded mockingly. Some children applauded likewise, thus making the whole scene even more absurd. Eowyns little rival shot nasty glances to her and me, before angrily hurling his stone to the opposite direction and walking off.
The other children turned back to their toys and left as well. I overheared a girl teaching her friend: „You see? Just like I said! Nobody can actually have a tongue like a snake. His tongue was completely normal!"
„But my grandpa said..."
„And *my* grandpa said..."
I missed whatever interesting those grandfathers' opinions about the outer shape of my tongue might have been, because I turned myself to more important matters. Eowyn.
„By the way, I never doubted one instant, you - as niece of the king - would come out as the winner of each children's game you choose to participate in," I explained. „If purely for the age difference."
She was very busy tying up her shoes and she let her hair curtain her face to cover her newly flushing cheeks, but I knew her too well to not notice how much ashamed she was.
*****
Suddenly, an idea came to my mind. I decided to fill up the measure.
The afternoon did come out so well, why should I deny myself this final highlight?
The opportunity scarcely would present itself again anytime soon.
„Nevertheless, you can't deny," I picked up my last words, „this time I helped you to your victory. Don't you think this should be worthy of a small acknowledgement?"
She looked up.
„What do you mean by this?"
„Oh, you're not to kiss me, have no fear! Although I must admit that would be very enticing... But I think I could be content with some of those strawberries instead."
The king's strawberries, even more shining red than Eowyns lips and cheeks, and nearly just as sweet, I'm sure. A worthy substitute.
She leapt up and clasped the dish in shock, as if to protect the precious fruits from my unworthy hands.
„Those are the king's!"
„And I'm the king's counsellor," I argued gently but steadily. „Don't you think he will gladly grant me this small request when he learns of the fact you owe me your today's victory?"
It was a threat, and she noticed, for she turned pale.
„Don't tell my uncle! Please."
I smiled happily. I like it when she has to beg me for something.
„Better tell your brother?"
To my regret, that didn't seem to impress her much. I actually could have known by myself this could hardly frighten her. Eomer wouldn't believe one single syllable from my mouth; especially when my words were - in what way ever - done to diminish the honour of his sister. So I gave in.
„However, if you would be so generously to give me those berries *now*; I see no reason asking the king for it tonight."
Her eyes narrowed. „How many?"
I did, as if I needed to consider some time what would be a fair price to reward my services.
„A handful." I decided and stretched out a hand, my fingers requesting.
She gasped in protest, but finally bit her teeth and obediently reached into her dish. Without a word, she let the red fruits fall into my hand, carefully avoiding touching me by accident.
„Thank you very much, milady!" I bowed formally and then enjoyed the first strawberry.
Annoyed, she watched me tasting one sweet fruit after the other, taking my time to fully enjoy the rare flavour and the rare satisfaction to see Eowyn being envious of me. (Because I was absolutely sure she had forbidden herself to eat even one strawberry in the gardens. And now she had to watch with regret that I did so; I, who was so much less worth it.)
I sucked the red flesh with relish and let the sweet-sour flavour slowly grace my tongue.
„Ahhh..." I sighed theatrically, „A taste incomparable to anything else, don't you think?"
Her eyes sparkled angrily; but she did not answer.
„Nevertheless; I would give one to *you*; they're so delicious. Would you like?" I displayed the last remaining strawberry in my open palm.
She frowned, but this time her pride triumphed.
„No!"
„Just as you like." I put the last strawberry into my mouth.
She grimaced; and though she normally avoids regarding me directly, she now almost stared at my lips with some kind of fascinated aversion. Amused, I stared back.
„Well? What's the matter? Why not carry that dish inside?! These strawberries are far too expensive to let them spoil in the heat!" I reminded her and without waiting for an answer set off up to the Hall.
On the stairs, she caught up with me. She now wore her usual stoic face again.
„You really won't tell my uncle?"
„No. Promised."
She nodded briefly and then passed me, hasting up to the Great Hall.
(Little fool! What use would it have been to tell the king? At best, he would smile in forbearing: „If she takes pleasure in it! Leave her be; only one summer more. She's still so young..."
No, to have heard her beg me had been a far better satisfaction!)
*****
All in all a very fruitful afternoon, I summarized in my mind:
I had watched Eowyn when she thought herself unobserved,
witnessed her lovely little feet,
embarrassed her in public,
let her beg me,
and finally captured a handful of the king's strawberries from her which she would have liked to eat herself.
I licked my lips, tasting the sweet flavour of the red berries.
An exceptionally beautiful day, indeed.
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THE END.
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