"Theodred. Cousin. Don't do this. You speak treason, and Wormtongue has spies everywhere." Eomer played with his glass of mead rather than drinking from it, his face worried. The youngest Marshal of the Eastmark in memory, he looked older than his twenty eight years, nearly as old as his cousin.
"Not here, surely?" Theodred said. It was just the two of them in the room, the servants having been sent away.
"You swore an oath – we both did." Theodred had always protected him when they were younger, and now Eomer tried to repay the favor. "Please, have sense."
"We swore an oath to Lord and Land," Theodred agreed. He fell silent, and Eomer began to hope that he had dropped the topic when he spoke up again. "Which is more important?"
"Theodred, what has gotten into you?" His cousin had never been this philosophical.
"You know I just came from Edoras," Theodred said, frowning as he stared into the fireplace. "It's different now. He's different. You must have noticed the change in his letters at least."
Eomer shook his head. "Only by their lack," he said quietly. "The King no longer favors me with personal correspondence."
Theodred reached over to rest a hand on Eomer's shoulder for a moment. "Grima poisons his mind daily," he said. "The people have taken to calling him the 'Ghost of Meduseld,' so rarely does he emerge anymore. And when he does, Grima is always a step behind him, whispering in his ear."
Both men were silent for a moment, off in their own thoughts. "I tried to convince Father to allow Eowyn to stay here," Theodred finally said. "Grima would not hear of it, though, and so neither would Father."
Eomer looked up, alarmed. He cared more about Eowyn than any other in Middle Earth, even his beloved cousin. "Why did you wish for her to leave Edoras? Is she unsafe?"
"I'm…not sure," Theodred admitted with a heavy sigh. "But I do not like the way Grima watches her, and she does not feel safe. She has restarted her sword training, and carries her sword wherever she can."
"Grima once again," Eomer said. "And so you talk treason." By the look on his face, he was starting to agree that treason might be what was needed.
"Nay, cousin," Theodred said. "I speak only of keeping our oath – the more important part. Thus far, we have been following our Lord, to the detriment of the Land. I suggest that it is the Land that is the more important part of that oath. We owe our duty to the Mark itself."
Eomer looked down into his glass, swirling the mead around absently. Theodred let him think. Finally, Eomer said, "I think you have too much of our Grandfather in you."
Theodred managed a small smile. "I'm not planning to run off to Gondor," he said. "I belong here, making the Mark safe. And if that's no longer my Father's goal, then I know what's more important."
"What if you're exiled?" Eomer asked. "He won't kill you, not even with Grima's urging, but you'll lose the Mark then."
"Will I?" Theodred asked. "Eomer… Now I'm truly speaking treason, but do you really think that my eored would not follow me and shelter me and allow me to continue to ride with them? Wouldn't yours for you?"
"Probably," Eomer admitted.
"Which is more important to you, Eomer? Lord or Land?" Theodred said quietly. "And all the people who depend on the land, including Eowyn and us."
"Land," Eomer said just as quietly. "Though if you had asked me several years ago, I would have told you they were the same."
"In an ideal world, they always would be, and no one would have to contemplate treason to do what was right." Theodred looked at Eomer. "I swear to you, Eomer. When I am King, I will always listen to you. And if you think I'm straying too far from what I ought to be caring about, tell me. Hit me over the head if you have to."
Eomer held out his arm and Theodred took it in a warrior's grip. "I will always be there for you, Theodred," Eomer said solemnly. "Even if it means hitting you over the head," he added, smiling slightly.
"Try not to do that too often, though," Theodred said, releasing his cousin and returning the smile. "I do prefer my skull in one piece."
"Picky," Eomer said. "You can ride with a cracked skull."
Theodred appreciated the lighter turn the conversation was taking. They needed a chance to smile after their talk of treason. They spoke most of the rest of the night, deliberately keeping to lighter topics and far away from anything that hinted of treason. It was only a few hours before dawn when they finally retired, yet both rose with the sun.
As Theodred's company prepared to leave, Eomer gripped arms with his cousin again. "For the Land," Theodred said.
Eomer nodded and stepped back out of the way. "For the Land."