Mid-June 4, Edoras
After the incident, a watchful atmosphere reigned in the capital of Rohan. While people of Edoras were generally proud of how their queen had handled her attacker, they also did not like what it implied. Moreover, there was no telling whether there would be another such incident.
As such it was no wonder that Éothain insisted Lothíriel and Elfwine should be heavily guarded at all times, which the Queen allowed. Yet Ceolwen observed that in his ideal world, the two would not leave the Golden Hall before such time he knew for sure no more assassins were seeking to end her life, or Éomer came home. However, Lothíriel would not have any of it: "I will not hide in Meduseld like some coward. I'm not going to let them think I'm afraid of them."
Her voice was stark as she made clear her stance and Éothain knew not to argue. It did not prevent him from shaking his head and looking exasperated. But Ceolwen thought Lothíriel was right: she should not let some villains and lawbreakers set the rules by which she lived. Even so, the Shieldmaiden took to wearing her chain-mail again and strapped on her sword whenever the two women ventured out together. No one would get to her queen while she was able to wield a blade.
As for the culprit, he would not speak much when interrogated; there were some mutterings perhaps he should be coaxed more pressingly, especially because of what he had mean to do. But Lothíriel was also very clear on the matter of his treatment. No definitive decisions on his fate would be made before Éomer came back. It also remained unclear if he had accomplices – at least he named none, and a search of the capital did not reveal any either.
Lothíriel and Éothain had sent letters to Éomer on the day after the incident, and he fast responded to those. Ceolwen did not know the contents of the message he had sent to his queen, but Éothain at least reported he was very displeased and insisted they keep the assassin behind the bars until he could come home and see to the matter himself.
"He must have been very angry when he wrote the letter. Some parts of it he had written so fast I could barely read it", said the former captain to Ceolwen, frowning as he spoke. "I only hope he won't let his anger compromise the campaign."
"I wouldn't worry about it. He can put it aside, or use it if he needs to. If anything, it should just inspire him to give the Easterlings a serious reason to consider whether it was wise to meet the Mark and Gondor in battle", Ceolwen said calmly. Éothain considered her statement for a while and eventually nodded.
"I suppose you have it right. I keep forgetting that you know him as a leader in a ways I do not", he said in quiet tones, not quite able to hide the regret he spoke with. Ceolwen did not wonder: she knew what being the captain of the King's Guard had meant to Éothain. While it had not been her calling the way it still was his, she treasured the time she had been given in that position... perhaps, in a different life, she might have continued in it for much longer. Be it as may, they both knew the King they now served was not the same man who had ridden south four years ago.
But though in the capital atmosphere remained somewhat tense, there were good tidings as well. For the rider Ceolwen had sent to Gondor returned eventually, reporting that Queen Arwen was fine and unharmed. In her letter she thanked her fellow queen for the swift warning and said that in the Citadel security measurements had been tightened, and Faramir was busy investigating if there were any rumours of assassins in Minas Tirith.
Lothíriel herself took the matter quite calmly, and though she didn't protest to having more guards, she didn't believe more villains would come to threaten her.
"And if they do, I'll send them to keep company with that first one. Or if they make the mistake of coming near my son, you will find that an executioner won't be needed", she stated firmly and told Éothain not to worry. While Ceolwen could comprehend her queen's calmness, she was rather surprised when the younger woman requested to meet the man who had tried to kill her. It was one of the few times the Shieldmaiden witnessed her friend and Éothain quarrelling intensely, but in the end the former captain was forced to give up.
When Scýne heard of it, she lifted her eyebrows and looked at her husband with some surprise, "You seriously believed you could win?"
"Are you sure you wish to do this, my lady?" asked the guard before he opened the door of the prison cell. Lothíriel gave him a pleasant smile.
"I am certain. He is in shackles, I am armed, and you are just outside the door. What do I have to fear?" she asked him in calm tones. He frowned briefly and looked uncertain, but at least he knew not to argue. To herself, she wondered if it had been Éothain or Éomer himself who had bullied the guards of Edoras into such paranoia.
"Very well then", he said and bowed at her. "Just call me if you need anything, my Queen."
"Of course", she said and rested a hand on the hilt of her short blade. Though she was determined to show only calmness to her people, she would not tempt the fates when meeting again the man who had tried to kill her.
The door was opened for her and she took in a small breath as she stepped in. There was a chair and a table in the cell, and a candle had been left there for her convenience. Quietly she took seat before focusing her eyes on the man sitting by the wall; the cell did not have much, but at least he had been provided with a bunk, and fresh water and food was brought to him every day. With a shudder she remembered the evils of her husband's captivity, and also those of Elfhelm and Éothain's. After hearing such stories she would not have any prisoner treated inhumanly, even if the man before her now wasn't innocent.
She could feel his eyes on herself before she met his gaze at last. When she did, Lothíriel stared back at him firmly and calmly, regarding her would-be killer in the hopes of seeing what kind of a person he was. His hair was short, wavy and dark – even darker were his eyes, so that in this light they seemed black. She supposed he was a comely fellow with his finely defined features and full lips. It was a good, ordinary face; had she passed him by on a busy street, she would never have guessed his intention.
"I would ask you to sit with me, but as you can see, there is not a great abundance of furniture, and I'm afraid my guards insist I retain certain level of distance to you", she said conversationally at last, if just to break the silence. The man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes slightly as he searched her face.
"You are not afraid I might try to harm you again?" he asked bluntly.
Lothíriel gave him a crooked half-smile and lay a hand on her blade again.
"The thought did occur. But even then, it would remain a mere attempt", she said and sat back, though her attention was not anything less than fully focused on him and his barest gesture.
"Yes, I suppose you can say that", he said, his voice falling lower now. It was a pleasant baritone, though perhaps a bit higher than Éomer's. She had to marvel at this scene silently: here she was, sitting and conversing politely with her attacker! No wonder Éothain had kept glancing at her like he thought her mad.
"Do I have to explain why I have come?" she asked then, ushering away thoughts of the former captain.
The man from east still stared at her as he answered, "You have come to ask why I tried to kill you."
"One likes to know such things", Lothíriel stated and crossed her knees. With a slightly sharper tone, she went on, "I was also wondering if you had friends who might want to finish what you started. But first I would wish to hear your name."
Her request brought a strange little smile to the man's face.
"In this part of the world I am called Agon, but it is not my true name", he replied slowly. He spoke Westron very well, and she could hardly notice an accent in his speech.
"Then tell me, Agon, why did you want to kill me?" she asked, staring straight into his eyes. If she had expected her gaze and straightforward manners would unnerve him, she had been wrong.
"It is nothing personal, Queen Lothíriel. You seem like a wonderful lady, and I see now why a word of you has even travelled to my land in the east", Agon answered. It was certainly a surprising statement, but she masked her reaction. So she just tilted her head slightly and looked at him inquiringly.
"My reason is very simple. When we heard that the kings of the West were on their way, I sought out a man who knows many things. I asked him what are their weaknesses. For the King Elessar, he could not say. But of King Éomer he was very clear: even the prostitutes in the taverns of Minas Tirith know he loves his wife very dearly... if his queen were harmed, he would turn around and race back to Rohan, leaving King Elessar hanging out dry. You are his weakness", he explained. His voice was disturbingly pleasant and soft for the topic at hand, but again Lothíriel kept her emotions to herself.
"I admit I made a miscalculation when I did not take to account your unwillingness to receive injury. I have never seen a woman fight like you did", Agon said, and now she could almost swear there was something admiring about his tone. Whether it was genuine or not, she couldn't tell.
Be it as may, she lifted her eyebrows and snorted softly.
"Well, I suppose you haven't met many women, then", she said dryly – certain Shieldmaiden came to mind at least.
"I knew women of the North are different, but you are Gondorian, aren't you?" he pointed out.
One corner of her mouth lifted once more.
"Even my Aunt Ivriniel would fight you back if you tried to harm her, with a knitting needle if she must", she said solemnly. She didn't doubt her own words one bit, but she didn't tell him that. Instead, she asked: "Tell me: do you have accomplices?"
Now it was Agon's turn to smile slightly.
"If I did, they will have long left your capital. After my failure, your advisers will have surrounded you with many guards... and I do not suppose you would be any more compliant to an attack than you were on the first time?" he said and let out a quiet, dry chuckle.
She eyed him with some suspicion and doubt. What was this man, really? Was he telling her anything that even vaguely resembled the truth? He seemed strangely unconcerned for someone who had attacked a queen and been captured in the very act.
"You do realise you will most likely be executed upon my husband's return, don't you?" she asked him and stared at him hard. Agon just smiled.
"I am not afraid of death, Queen Lothíriel. I have lived in its shadow all my life. But there is irony to how it comes to me at last. I would not wish your death, yet because I tried to cause it I must die. Your husband can go to the Void for all I care, but you...", he spoke and his voice fell very quiet towards the end of his sentence, until it faded away completely. Lothíriel decided not to ask him to continue.
"If you are trying to win my sympathy and mercy, you may rest assured your attempt is wasted. Even if I relented and asked for pardon, my husband will never let you walk free for what you tried to do", she pointed out doubtfully. Agon did not respond – he just looked at her in silence.
Eventually she sighed and decided she had heard enough. This man and her... they lived in worlds vastly different. She was only wasting her time talking to him.
So she stood up and turned for the door of the cell. Agon, however, was not yet done.
"You may be his weakness", he said in a low voice, "but he chose wisely where to place his vulnerability. It is a lucky man whose weak point defends itself so fiercely."
"You are wrong about one thing", Lothíriel said, looking over her shoulder at the man, "I am not his weak point. I am his Lioness."
Late June 4, Sea of Rhûn
It took some manoeuvring and a few spies in the right places, but eventually the forces of Rohan and Gondor were able to lure out their enemy into an open battle by the shores of Sea of Rhûn. Aragorn lead his Gondorian footsoldiers, while Marshal Elfhelm was in charge of half of the Rohirric Riders. Éomer himself led the other half, but he did not rush into the battle when it began: the Lord of the Mark would not enter the field before Aragorn and Elfhelm had engaged their opponents and had them tied into the struggle. The Easterlings did not know that, though – they saw the White Horse upon Green carried before Elfhelm, and so took him for the King of Rohan, thinking the force against them smaller than it was in truth.
The battle carried out the way Aragorn and Éomer had planned. The Easterlings came proudly against Aragorn and Elfhelm and the shores of the great body of water were filled with noise of battle; the King of Gondor and Arnor made a show of retreating and so fuelling their opponents, and some of the most enthusiastic fighters rushed to give a chase to the force of Gondor. But then Aragorn let his trumpets sing, and they were answered by Rohirric horns. The sound was quickly joined by the thunder of hooves. Éomer drove his riders as two wedges into the army of Easterlings, effectively driving them into the Sea of Rhûn. From afar Aragorn saw the white horse-tail helmet and a faint shimmer of silver, and quietly he hoped this battle would allow his friend to let out some steam which had been building inside him ever since he had heard of the assault against Lothíriel.
The rest of the strife was best described as slaughter, and it did not take long for the Gondorian and Rohirric troops to finish off the remaining resistance. But most were wise enough to surrender, for which Aragorn was glad – there needn't be any more death.
And so the clash of steel and yells quieted, and what sound came from arms was those of swords and spears tossed to ground, and war cries became the wails of the wounded. In the midst of the ruin of war a silver stallion slowly made his way, not charging anymore but not quite at peace either. Or perhaps it was his rider who was not at peace: he carried his sword bared in his hand and his eyes held the cold light of fury and lust of battle. As he rode, Easterlings threw their arms on the ground by his stallion's feet, and some bowed their heads.
When Éomer lead his stallion to Aragorn, his expression softened only a little. His tone was firm and resolute: "Let us wrap up this damned war."
"We will do that", said the older of the two kings, and suddenly he felt weary of all the spilling of blood.
The negotiations for peace took place in a tent which had been quickly raised for the Kings of Rohan and Gondor, and for the emissaries of Easterlings. Aragorn and Elphir acted as representatives of Gondor, while Éomer and Elfhelm spoke for the Mark. To them came four men of Rhûn, dark-haired and dark-eyed. Judging by the dents on their armour and sweat still pearling on their brow, they too had fiercely fought in the battle.
The atmosphere of the negotiations was somewhat stiff but polite, and Aragorn could see all parties just wanted peace. Things might have gone so smoothly, if not for one man among the company of Easterlings.
"My lords", he spoke when nearly all points had been discussed and agreed on, "my lords, I was wondering if you would be willing to make a show of good will towards us."
The two kings glanced at each other, and Éomer was the one to answer.
"We are listening", he said, crossing his arms on his chest.
"We understand one of our own people is kept as a prisoner in Rohan. We would like to ask that he should be released and returned among his own", spoke the same man as before.
His words had an immediate effect. Elessar could practically feel his fellow king tensing and his moderately benevolent mood turn into icy resentment.
"Absolutely not. The man you speak of has been apprehended for a grave crime he committed on the soil of the Mark, and thus he will also face Rohirric justice in due time", Éomer barked without a moment's hesitation.
"And what will that be, precisely?" asked another member of the Easterling party. The man who had spoken first stared at the King of the Mark with wide, shocked eyes.
"There is only one punishment for an attempt on the life of a member of the royal house. That punishment is death", Éomer said, his voice cold and stark.
"No! I beg of you – don't kill him – please spare my brother!" exclaimed the man who had spoken first. He took a step towards the Rohirric king, but Éomer's hand flew to his sword, and Elfhelm too shifted sharply as if to step between the two men.
"Your brother made his choice when he decided to attack my queen. I will not suffer such malicious intents in my realm!" snapped the Lord of the Rohirrim, and his fury made him grow taller than anyone else in the tent.
"Then do you mean to say you do no wish for peace?" snarled the assassin's brother.
"Gentlemen, please -" Aragorn tried to put in, but no heed was paid to him altogether.
"If your peace depends on the release of an assassin, then I will not have it", Éomer growled; now he took a step forward, and the company of four before him sunk back. He continued, "Just say the word, and all of the Riddermark will lay waste on your land!"
Now Aragorn could not listen any more, but he stepped forward and caught his friend by arm. Similarly, the Easterlings pulled the assassin's brother into the middle of them and spoke fast and quiet to him.
"Have care now, brother. We do not need this erupting into yet another battle", Elessar said quietly in Rohirric to his friend. Lightnings flashed in the eyes of his friend.
"You saw them outside. Do you think they would have any chance?" Éomer snapped back. He then shook his head and spoke more softly, "Their request is out of question. I cannot agree to it."
"I know", Aragorn sighed. He could not ask his friend to do such a thing, no matter the consequences. When he glanced at Elphir, Imrahil's eldest son nodded slightly; his face was grave and Elessar knew he fully agreed with Éomer. The House of Dol Amroth would not suffer attempts of harm on one of their own, either.
Meanwhile, the Easterling company seemed to have reached some agreement. The assassin's brother spoke no more, and his companions did not mention the prisoner either. The negotiations were brought to an end but it was in a far colder atmosphere than in the beginning. When the four men exited, Elessar did not miss the look of hatred on the face of the man who had tried to plead for his brother.
When they were gone, tension left Éomer's form and he seemed to diminish somehow. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair; if he had been on a dark mood before, now he had twice the reason.
"I would like to talk with Éomer in private", Aragorn said, at which words Marshal Elfhelm and Prince Elphir reacted right away. They bowed at their liege-lords and headed out – there was still much to be done, even if the battle were over for now.
Chairs had been provided in the tent, and the younger of two kings more or less collapsed on one of them. The only word to fully describe him was just done.
In silence Aragorn poured them some wine and offered a cup to his friend, who accepted it absent-mindedly. He took a long swig and then stared into the vessel as though it held an answer to all his troubles. Elessar took seat as well and looked at his friend.
"I fear that we may have already sowed the seeds of the next war", he said at length, and his words made Éomer lift up his face sharply.
"Then what would you have me do? Allow that villain walk unpunished, and let everyone know that the King of the Mark does not care what crimes are committed in his land and against his family?" he asked and the edge in his voice was unmistakeable.
"Brother, I know that. I do not blame you for what happened... it was an impossible situation", Aragorn said to console his friend. The younger man sighed heavily.
"Indeed it was", he muttered. Half-audibly, as if speaking to himself, he said, "Béma, I wish I was home."
A/N: Here's an update! I didn't think I'd be posting this chapter so soon, but I had a sleepless night, and you know what happens then... anyway, this story thread took an unplanned and surprising route, and I can tell you we are far from being done with it! Perhaps it shows sometimes a king has to make difficult choices, and people are not always what they seem.
I hope you liked the chapter, and thanks for reading and reviewing!
Jo - I had fun indeed, though I couldn't fully keep the promise I wouldn't be writing anything. But you know me! :D Poor man is stressed out indeed, but like Ceolwen observes, it doesn't affect his leadership.
brandibuckeye - Thank you! :)