Chapter Four: Set To Wither
Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien and New Line Cinema own everything.
3017 – Two years before the Three Hunters come to Edoras with Gandalf
Proud, with the horse-blood of his forebears Théoden denied the taming words of his counsellor's bridling advise and sought ever more to oppose Saruman with force. In Westfold he established the greater part of his Marshals and éoherë under the command of his son. Éomer he sent to Eastfold, desiring peace in his house. Of late his nephew had become masterful, setting his will against Théodred in matters of politics and war, appropriating the king's favour so that Théoden might at last recognise only his adopted son. Neither was Éomer fond of Gríma. They argued loudly about close matters privy to Éowyn, who held out long against her uncle's concerned interrogation.
'A sadness is on you, daughter, and you will not say what?' Gentle was Théoden's sunken face, carved by the cares of his office.
The wintry smile succumbed to the flow of torrential tears and was swept ashore the king's consoling palm. Éowyn defended her tongue loyally and said nothing though her heart heaved itself into her throat, attempting to be free of its troubles.
'Éomer, lord.' Gríma moved with grace in his sombre robes. Rohan was a funeral and he – the undertaker – groomed the House of Eorl for its committal. Honeyed words dripped sweetly on the ears of his audience.
'Éomer?' asked Théoden.
The cold steel of Éomund's blade fawned at Éowyn's ankle, imploring her to cruelty under the peculiar eyes of her brother's nemesis. Why these malicious thoughts, she did not know. Solidarity she expressed with Éomer against Gríma when her fear demanded it, yet the wizened figure of a man had always shown kindness in the face of her contempt. Even now he spoke her mind.
'She grieves at his going, lord. Long has the Lady Éowyn been in his keeping and now that he is Third Marshal he must keep all of Eastfold,' he suggested. 'No doubt the succour of your hall is appreciated, but she is a free spirit and such formality is stifling.' A polite grimace tickled Gríma's rotting lips.
Théoden snorted, unconvinced of his counsellor's explanation. Háma's eavesdropping served when Gríma defied and it did not take a simpleton to know that more often than not the arguments he shared with Éomer waxed from the affairs of state to Éowyn. 'Éowyn has a mind of her own and the freedom with which to speak it.' An encouraging hand closed around her arm. The muscles protective and riddled with guilt, for his sister-daughter had grown up in the shadow of war, motherless and schooled in the skill of the sword. If only to fall upon it, as her mother did in her final despair. It was his dread; his orders that Eastfold hold against Mordor's encroachment had bound Éomund to his fate. Did Théodwyn absolve him of blame? Would Éowyn? The failing king of a land falling under the White Hand and Shadow would surrender the keys to his keep if not to his children, who with their love renewed his resolve and strength.
'It is true, my lord. I miss my brother,' Éowyn confessed. A free spirit did he say? Free to weep and beg. Such noble conduct! And all about you the ones you love are cut down and you – caged – cannot go with them to their long home. Shall I always be left behind?
'Do you not desire to look again on the place of your birth?' Gríma stirred the stew of his master's brewing, ruing the ingredients.
'Aldburg! Nay, that is some leagues from here. I will not have her make the journey,' Théoden insisted, exercising the yoke of his solumphobia, 'unaccompanied by a member of my household. Whom I can trust.' Even if his counsellor's fall from favour was hard, he did not suspect an allegiance between Gríma and Saruman. He underestimated the boldness of Gálmód's son.
Vaguely hurt by Théoden's scorn, Gríma need not pretend to wince in embarrassment. Marshalling his courtesy, he agreed, 'Assuredly not, lord. But do not deny your sister-daughter this grace. Gamling is a trustworthy steward … though perhaps you could do with some company, my lady?' Let him appease first his king whose warrior motive concerned itself wholly with a military attack and lacked the subtlety to recognise an internal conflict – driving his kin to ruin.
It began to rain on Éowyn's heart. The spit of unease was not recently fallen. She had felt the dank creep into her soul in the hour of her mother's death and it had since soaked her spirit to the marrow. Yet a smile alighted on her face at Gríma's offer of companionship. The sun was shining.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: I asked one of my friends why she thought Éowyn looked at Théoden as he ascended the steps to the Keep of the Hornburg the way she did (just after Gimli delivers the bad news). My interpretation was that she may have blamed her uncle's stubborn defence - in part - for Aragorn's death. But my friend suggested she was upset because "everyone she loves has died" and that Théoden alone of her family remained. At that stage she was unsure of her brother's fate. This was an interesting and different spin on Éowyn's desire to do battle, and I have modelled my characterisation of her based on this. Her death wish is out of fear of lonliness and losing the people she loves. I hope I haven't confused or bored anyone with character motivation :)
éoherë is the plural of éored