The journey back to Edoras had been uneventful, but once everyone returned, Théoden threw a giant partaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! And what does a Rohan victory party entail when a man, an elf, and a dwarf are visiting the Riddermark? That's right. The drinking game.
It was my job to give my uncle a fancy golden cup, which he used to toast to all the soldiers who had died. When he raised it, and everyone in the Hall got to their feet.
"Tonight, we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country," Théoden shouted, spittle flinging from his lips. "Hail the victorious dead!"
"Hail!" everyone in the Hall yelled back.
"Why, when I was a young whippersnapper, we did a lot more than raise our glasses to honor the soldiers who died! We used to throw their corpses in the tombs with their wives, and-"
"All right, I think that's enough, Uncle." I interrupted him before he could go on.
"No pauses, no spills," I overheard Eomer explain.
"And no regurgitation!" Gimli added, chugging his first tankard. Unable to help myself, I joined the crowd around the dwarf and elf.
"So, it's a drinking game?" Legolas asked, sniffing his ale suspiciously.
"Last one standing wins!"
The elf gingerly took a sip, making a face.
Aragorn tried to sneak past me as I giggled at the 'DO NOT WANT' face. Whirling around, I gave him my best owl eyes. He shuddered and pushed past a few people to get away (while still looking manly, I might add). Huh huh huh.
Théoden staggered up to me, joints creaking. "What are you doing here, Gleowen? I thought you were in the family crypt!"
Not bothering to correct him, I sighed. "Yeah, it's pretty stuffy down there. I thought I'd come up for some fresh air."
"All right. As long as nobody gets eaten, you can stay as long as you like."
"Thanks."
Merry and Pippin clambered onto the table and started kicking drinks into people's laps, warbling drunkenly about their favorite pub.
"I think it's starting to affect me," Legolas slurred, swaying, a tower of empty cups in front of him.
"Whaadd'I tell yah? He can' hold'is liquor…" With a glob of spit trickling down his beard, the dwarf collapsed.
The elf smirked. "Game over."
The men called for a victory tankard, which pushed him over the edge and caused him to fall facefirst onto the bar. I laughed, wondering what Hannah would say if she could see her boyfriend now.
The feast went on until dawn, but I only stayed awake until around one in the morning. I knew that Eowyn was supposed to have a 'moment' with Aragorn after spending the night on the couch (why she did that when she had a perfectly good bed right down the hall, I had no idea), but I didn't want to be creepy to Erica's boyfriend, so I made a boring decision and retreated to my chambers. When I had last looked, Legolas and Gimli hadn't moved, and were still passed out at the bar.
The next morning when I came down for breakfast, a group of very hung over people were sitting around, holding their heads while Gandalf lectured them.
"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," Gandalf was explaining. "A fool, but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing: he knows the heir of Elendil has come forth, Men are not as weak as he supposed, there is courage still, strength, perhaps enough to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."
Oh yeah, Pip had his little 'episode' last night!
"Tell me," Théoden groaned, holding his head. "Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor? Who is Gondor?"
"I will go," Aragorn offered, ignoring the old king.
"No," Gandalf muttered, giving him a 'shut up and let me finish' look.
"They must be warned," Aragorn protested, doing a flex pose.
"They will be," Gandalf assured him, then made a fist at Theoden. "Understand this, old-timer! Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith. And I won't be going alone."
"Old-timer? You young rascal!"
Sighing, I left them alone to squabble, wondering when I would be able to go to Gondor to meet Faramir.
