Before Eowyn had time to answer Legolas burst into the room, his elven eyes alight with excitement.
"My Lord and Lady!" he cried, "Mirghast is before the Elders! A Page has been found dead in the Prince's apartments, with one of his own guard swearing he acted upon the Prince's orders! Mirghast saw all, and has been brought to bear testimony against the Prince, who rails and cries out in anguish that the guard speaks untruths!"
within moments the crowd had reassembled in the Great Hall, news of the murder having reached their ears faster than fire across a field.
"What is the truth of this?" Magyar roared at the Prince, who was restrained between two Russet Guards, another two holding the accused soldier, another bearing the body of the murdered Pageboy, a sight to harden many a heart against one who would order and perpetrate such heinous slaughter.
"My Lord, I know naught!" the Prince cried ineffectually, struggling to be free of his captors' forceful hold.
The Kingsman spoke up to the Elders;
"Let his soldier tell you what he was about! I saw and heard all, but acted to late to save his life." Mirghast said, gesturing to the lifeless child in sonorous tones.
"Soldier, Speak! Your life rests upon your murdering tongue!" the elder growled, echoing the feelings of the room.
The swarthy corsair spat at the guards holding him. "I was ordered to kill the boy, aye. And take the poison from him, too."
The elders gasped. "What poison is this you speak of?" Magyar asked, his anger steadily rising.
"The Poison that the Prince ordered the Page to serve the boy Heir. My orders were to kill him when I found him again, and I did so."
"My Lord, he admits it freely." Mirghast addressed the Elders once more. "It is well that the Boy lives."
Magyar shook his head; "One life lost for one life saved; it is not thought that one is above the other. When there are so few of us left, one young life is as precious as a score. Imprison the soldier, Loyal Askantans." Magyar commanded the guards, before turning to Mirghast, regarding him with righteous eyes.
"Young man, it seems we have much to thank you for. Without your eyes and ears we might have permitted a Villain to Rule our beloved darkland. In as such, you shall be rewarded as is in our means."
Upon hearing these words the Prince howled in anguish, all his plans come to naught. "Please, My Lord! I know nothing of these events! It is all a plot to discredit me!" he sobbed, his once handsome face contorted with rage.
"In that you need have no fear. It may surprise you, but we have not been lax in conducting our own investigations among the hostages you claimed to have rescued. None have heard of a Prince Thornalder. They told us instead of a cruel slave-trader who drove them into the east intending to sell them to the highest bidder, changing his mind upon the slaying of one of our Court Messengers, who carried documents pertaining to our search for the Heirs of Ogrem.
"You are a charlatan, a deceiver, and a murderer. And as the bearer of such titles, you are henceforth banished from the Rhun, and shall endure a long and tortured demise should you be found once more within its boundaries. Guards, take him away."
"I declare before this court of nobles and the Council of Elders, that Lord Grimaulkin Greymist, Son of Galmod Greymire, standing for the Line of Thorn, is to be crowned our King, as soon as arrangements can be made." Magyar smiled. With the official declaration over with, the excitement in the whole of the city was tangible. It seemed to Eowyn that the very rock the city was made of trembled with excitement at the thought of the upcoming celebration. With the villain already on his way to the border and his troops outcast, Eowyn's thoughts turned more and more to the future
It had been three days since the dramatic events that had turned the city upside down. The previous day the family of the murdered Page had gathered to bury him and receive his posthumous knighthood, passed to his father, for whom it was recompense for the young life given in service. It seemed that all the court had attended the funeral ceremony, and, Eowyn perceived, stayed to ingratiate themselves within the uncrowned King's favour.
Throughout the festivities Eowyn had kept to herself, at the edge if not in presence than in thought. In a pensive mood she wandered into the courtyard, perceiving a pool of water before her. As there was no one around to comment, she allowed herself the impulse to trail her fingers in the still clear water, seemingly transformed into a mirror by the reflective marble beneath its surface. As she gazed idly at her impassive reflection she thought she heard a voice, seemingly distant yet as cool breath upon her ear. …Destiny….
That evening there came a knock upon her chamber door, which Eowyn answered with a thoughtful smile. Grima stood there before her, clothed in a green velvet robe, his raven hair untied and flowing around him like a cowl, a troubled expression upon his pale face.
"Will you not enter, my Lord?" she asked in a musical tone, gesturing for Grima to follow her into the room and take a seat by the hearth. A fire roared in the huge fireplace, filling the high roofed chamber with enveloping warmth, its light crating dancing figures all about, reminding them both of the Golden Halls of the time which seemed so long ago. Grima looked at her, smiling gently, yet with sadness in his eyes. He sat down before the fire silently, his eyes downcast.
"Will you tell me what troubles you, my Lord?" Eowyn asked mellifluously, although she already sensed what weighed upon his mind.
"I am brought to a decision. I must ask you to release me from our betrothal, that you may return to Rohan, and there live the life that you were destined for." He said, his eyes averted.
"You would send me away, to live in a cage, without your love?" she asked tremulously. The air in the room seemed as heavy and silent as the enfolding darkness outside her window, the bleak, black expanse seemed to show her a picture of her life should Grima turn her aside.
"I would have you live the life of a Princess, of light and gold all around you; a life that I can not provide."
"Do you think me mad? That is but a gilded prison. Rohan was never for me; you know this, how I dreamed of seeing far distant lands that I learnt of through your diligent tutelage? That I might take my mare and ride with you to the ends of middle earth? I dreamed one day that I might see all these things because I came to know them, through you, and your presence in my life. And now I am here, in an unknown land full of wonderful strangeness, with you to love me and teach me how to live once more and you would tear my dream from me?" she wept ardently, her tears soaking her cheeks, her eyes imploring him to reconsider.
"I must! What awaits you here but thankless toil for a country of strangers? I know of your long cherished dreams, of your strength and spirit, but I could never subject you to a life lived by my side."
"Then here we see the truth! Your love for me has faltered in the eyes of your countrymen. Am I not good enough in their eyes? Could you give me up for them? If it is done with such ease then I begin to doubt your heart is living flesh; I think it is a construct of stone and ice!"
"I Love you! Do not doubt the wealth of passion I hold for you! It is with a tearing and rending of my fleshly heart that I give you up!"
"Then do not! I have no desire to return to Rohan, to be the Golden Princess that lives only in your mind! I am Eowyn, I am here, and I will never surrender my heart to darkness! I came here to kill you; instead I found I loved you, and with an untried heart I wanted to be naught but your wife. But now you are to be King, must you not have a Queen?"
Grima broke down, their tears threatening to drown them both in a sea of misery and despair. He fell to his knees, heaving great sighs and tremors assailed him as he cried, clutching her skirts.
"Would you be my Queen? A Queen of moonlight and shadows? For that is what is to come, should you stay. You would have to live not as yourself, but another, lest some wanderer carry tales of your presence and bring war upon my broken people once more. A life in darkness is what you would have, ever hiding from the light like some nocturnal creature, lest some piercing eye find you out and destroy you."
"I will take that chance!" Eowyn cried, suddenly filled with fire like never before. Her veins filled with the heat of battle as she once more fought for the lives of those she loved, exchanging weapons for words as she struggled to convince Grima of her love for him and his land.
"I say that I love you, I need you. What sign do you need from me that might prove my desire? No shadow will haunt you, my heart will not desert you, and no man will hurt you, no, not any place under my eye or at any time I still live and can hold a sword! Take this chance, Grima!" she seized his hands and held them before her, her tears burned dry with the heat of her impassioned declaration.
"No darkness shall take you from me, nay, not even the darkness within your heart, and I swear, as the river flows to the sea, I shall follow you until my dying breath!"
"Then you are condemned, for I can never give you up. I love you with all there is of me. My eyes know only your face. My hands can only feel your touch, and my every breath is a gift from you." Grima cried, resigned.
"Then you will still marry me, and make me your Queen?" Eowyn asked, breathless with emotion and heartfelt happiness. "Before I loved you I was but half a woman, having but the shape and semblance of that which loves. If you leave me I shall be but half a shadow, haunting the world for lack of your love."
Grima kissed her, touching his tearstained lips to hers as he trembled with the love he felt.
"Yes," he whispered, "You shall be my Rhunland Bride."
A.N
I am exhausted after writing that. But! There are still at least three more chapters still to come! I hope you will like them as much as I do, and stay with me until the end!