Eomer was starting to develop a deep hatred for Osgilith. Every
moment he spent there he found the ruins more and more wretched. Having
beaten the enemy back across the river over a month ago they had retaken
the western shore of the river and city. However, the orcs had fortified
the eastern shore, making it all but impenetrable, which meant all the two
sides could really do was sit on their sides of the river and shoot back
and forth. It irritated Eomer immensely, who would much rather jump on
Firefoot and storm the barricades than to sit still playing siege. However,
as Elessar had pointed out, there was the small matter of the river that
split the battle. The only remaining bridge was narrow, and would basically
be a death trap for any to ride across, and so Eomer and his riders were
feeling rather useless at the moment, and nothing irritated Eomer more than
feeling useless. At the moment he was pacing back and forth within the
ruined building where they made camp. The leaders were once again
conferring a plan of action, and Eomer was displeased to discover Aragorn
and Faramir were planning different ways to arrange the men and catapults
to fire across the river. He knew it would be foolish to voice his
annoyance, and being a rider and not an expert on catapults and
calculations and knowing such he had decided to pace until the conversation
turned to something he preferred. Eomer had a sneaking suspicion that he
might be pacing yet awhile.
Faramir looked up to see his wife's brother making yet another trip from one wall to the next. He raised an eyebrow amused. "Eomer, you are making a considerable track in the floor. Do you fear you will become lost from one side of the room to the other?"
Eomer stopped his pace to glare, "This is the most physical activity I have had in days it seems. I must do something with myself!" He exclaimed, half jokingly, half serious.
"Yes well, if you could find something else?" Aragorn asked, "Your pacing is making my head spin."
Eomer threw up his hands and went to join them at the table. "Anything for your health gentlemen." He jokingly bowed slightly.
Aragorn and Faramir chuckled. "Well, you may pace all you like in your own quarters, my friend. I know you have good reason." Aragorn assured him.
"Any word from Lothiriel?" Faramir inquired.
Eomer sighed, it had been nearly two months since he left Edoras, and no news had reached him from his wife or anyone in the city for that matter. Erkenbrand, who presently resided in the Eastfold, had told him word had reached him from his wife that all was quiet, yet no news from Edoras had reached him either. All these events worried Eomer greatly. It was simply not like Lothiriel to not send word. However, he was in a city under seige, so it could merely be that for some odd coincidence that messengers from Edoras had not been able to get through as well from there or from the Eastfold, or even Minas Tirith, where the Lady Arwen seemed to send word weekly to Aragorn. Or, Eomer thought with a laugh, it could be that Lothiriel knew very well Eomer would probably end up pitching whatever news she sent pertaining to managing the Mark into a corner never to be read, and being with child, and ruling the Mark, she did not have the energy to waste. However, he still worried, and would like to know how she faired at least.
"No word." He replied. "I hope all is well in the Riddermark."
"Perhaps no word is good word." Faramir attempted to comfort. "Surely news would reach you if some disaster had befallen her."
Eomer glared at his sister's husband, and reminded himself that if he harmed Faramir, Eowyn would surely come after him, and she was not one he would like to deal with. "What?"
"Not that a disaster will befall her!" Faramir quickly attempted to save himself after Eomer's glare. "I am sure Lothiriel will be perfectly fine."
Aragorn cleared his throat, even though he would be amused to see Eomer chase Faramir around Osgilith he rather hoped to get through this meeting. "I received word from Minas Tirith that Prince Imrahil will be arriving in Osgilith soon. Apparently he has had all the healing he can stand and was threatening to drop a healer off the balcony if they refused to allow him permission to depart any longer. Perhaps word from Edoras reached him in Minas Tirith instead. He is her Father and Minas Tirith is a more secure location after all." He pointed out.
"Perhaps." Eomer said, accepting Aragorn's attempt at reassurance. "Nevertheless, my Lord Aragorn, I would appreciate if we could soon draw a close to this conflict. My wife is with child, and I would rather like to see him or her before they are old enough to knock their father off his feet."
Aragorn laughed, and was about to reply to this comment, when a new voice entered the scene.
"What? My sister is carrying another child of yours?" The all looked to see Erchirion, second son of Prince Imrahil, standing in the "doorway" of the ruin, looking rather smug that he managed to surprise the group.
"Ah! Erchirion, we did not hear news of your arrival." Aragorn greeted the man. "How fares your Father?"
"Well, sire." Erchirion replied, with a bow to his King. "He should be here shortly. If you will excuse me sire, I would like to settle family business." Erchirion said with a wicked grin, turning to Eomer.
The King of the Mark was never quite sure what to expect from Erchirion. His wife's older brother was unpredictable at times. Many a time Eomer had found himself on the wrong end of Erchirion's fist, but he judged Erchirion to be a pleasant enough man who was merely overprotective of his sister. Eomer would even venture to say he enjoyed Erchirion's company at times, time when he was not dodging his fist of course.
"So! My sister is in a delicate condition, and no news was sent to my brothers, our Father, or myself. What have you to say for yourself?" Erchirion asked, fighting a grin and crossing his arms. He was in an oddly good mood that day, and decided torturing the poor King of the Mark would be amusing.
"Twas my wife's bidding of course." Eomer sensed the man's good humor and grinned sheepishly. "I have nothing but pride for my wife, my Lord. She is indeed the finest thing that ever hailed from Dol Amroth and stepped upon Rohirrim soil, and our little child shall be a proud Prince or Princess of the Mark." He bowed low. "Punish me as you will."
"Well said, my daughter's husband." Imrahil, who had appeared as his son stated Lothiriel's condition. He immediately understood his daughter's decision to keep her condition quiet for a while, in case she lost the child. His wife had done the same with all four of their children and he hoped that Erchirion would not hold a grudge.
"Uncle, I hope you are well." Faramir greeted. "The healers-"
"Are worse than a flock of vultures!" Imrahil declared, finishing the younger man's sentence with a scowl. "They would not have released me had I not threatened to shove the next bowl of broth down their throats."
"He did too." Erchirion chimed in. "My King, you shall have some very unhappy healers waiting upon your return to Minas Tirith."
Aragorn laughed, "Nevertheless, it is good to see you. The forces of Dol Amroth are most welcome here."
Imrahil bowed to his King. "My men are ever at your disposal, my liege."
Aragorn nodded, "Now come gentlemen! Let us discuss the matter at hand!"
The conversation went back to battle plans. Although Eomer had stopped his pacing his mind continued to wander back to the grassy fields of the Mark. He wondered what was happening in his country, and how Lothiriel was faring at this moment.
* * * *
Across the mountains in the Mark a man stood alone in a field outside Edoras. He was just out of sight of the city and wore a cloak of dark green with his hood drawn. He waited patiently, the wind whipping past and blowing the folds of his cloak to and fro. A rider approached, and the man watched with narrowed eyes as his companion dismounted and quickly closed the distance between them.
"How goes it?" The cloaked man asked sharply, with no time for niceties or greetings.
"Very well my Lord." The rider replied. "No news of Edoras has leaked to the rest of the country, and my men are in position in Gondor."
The cloaked man nodded, "Will they be ready?"
"Of course my Lord. When the time comes, they shall see to the King as planned." The rider replied. He then hesitated, "My Lord, do you not worry about re-admittance to the city?" The rider asked.
The cloaked man waved off his concerns, "My men guard the gates. I will slip in and out unhindered, and none will hear of it. I have everything set for when the time comes, my friend."
The rider nodded, accepting his answer. "And what of the Queen, my Lord?"
The cloaked man raised his chin, a smug look crossing his face. "The Queen believes whatever information is fed to her." He laughed, however it was not a kind tone. It was more of a harsh, bark of a laugh, laced with bitterness. "She knows little of our land or its ways. She is not hard to deceive."
The rider shifted on his feet, watching his companion. "And when the time comes, what if she gives us difficulties?" He asked. "It could be dangerous."
The man laughed once more, "She is a woman. What difficulties could she possibly bring?" He asked. "Nay my friend. Everything is proceeding as scheduled." A cold smile spread across his lips, a cold scheming smile. "We need only wait for the opportune moment to strike."
* * * * * * * * * * *
A/N- This is my attempt at being mysterious. Heh. Not much to say at the moment, except don't hold your breath for the next chapter because the furthest I've gotten on it is thinking about what happens while driving across the state. Hope you enjoyed this one! Big thanks to my wonderful beta reader :-)
Lady of Legolas- Hehe and what makes you so sure Eomer will return? You know, besides what the book says? Hehe! I'm playing with your mind... mwahahahaha! Sorry... lack of sleep. Anyway, thanks for the reviews! I'll let the advisors know you said not to pick on Lothiriel, but they don't listen to me. Stupid characters! Thanks for reviewing :-)
Heyoka- Thank you for reviewing. All I can tell you is wait and see where I'm really going. I haven't really shown my hand yet :-) As you probably made the intelligent guess... Lothiriel isn't exactly being given the truth from certain people who shall remain nameless. Okay, so I'm not good at the mysterious thing so you'll probably be able to guess who, but all is not well in the Riddermark :-) Or... it won't be when I FINALLY get around to writing more. Thanks for the helpful review! I actually got it right after I was going over the chapter thinking I laid it on too thick and Lothiriel may look stupid by the end. Well, she can blame it on hormones.... like I blame things on the blonde hair.... Anyway! Have a great day and thank you so much for reviewing! Hope you'll review again :-)
Thanks to you two for reviewing! You both get the gold stars for the day.
YO!!! YOU!! YOU PERSON WHO IS READING THIS RIGHT NOW! REVIEW!! NOW!! Sorry, angry Bean surfaced there. But happy Bean says the same thing in a much nicer way! Please review! I'd really like to hear from you! Thanks! Happy reading!
Faramir looked up to see his wife's brother making yet another trip from one wall to the next. He raised an eyebrow amused. "Eomer, you are making a considerable track in the floor. Do you fear you will become lost from one side of the room to the other?"
Eomer stopped his pace to glare, "This is the most physical activity I have had in days it seems. I must do something with myself!" He exclaimed, half jokingly, half serious.
"Yes well, if you could find something else?" Aragorn asked, "Your pacing is making my head spin."
Eomer threw up his hands and went to join them at the table. "Anything for your health gentlemen." He jokingly bowed slightly.
Aragorn and Faramir chuckled. "Well, you may pace all you like in your own quarters, my friend. I know you have good reason." Aragorn assured him.
"Any word from Lothiriel?" Faramir inquired.
Eomer sighed, it had been nearly two months since he left Edoras, and no news had reached him from his wife or anyone in the city for that matter. Erkenbrand, who presently resided in the Eastfold, had told him word had reached him from his wife that all was quiet, yet no news from Edoras had reached him either. All these events worried Eomer greatly. It was simply not like Lothiriel to not send word. However, he was in a city under seige, so it could merely be that for some odd coincidence that messengers from Edoras had not been able to get through as well from there or from the Eastfold, or even Minas Tirith, where the Lady Arwen seemed to send word weekly to Aragorn. Or, Eomer thought with a laugh, it could be that Lothiriel knew very well Eomer would probably end up pitching whatever news she sent pertaining to managing the Mark into a corner never to be read, and being with child, and ruling the Mark, she did not have the energy to waste. However, he still worried, and would like to know how she faired at least.
"No word." He replied. "I hope all is well in the Riddermark."
"Perhaps no word is good word." Faramir attempted to comfort. "Surely news would reach you if some disaster had befallen her."
Eomer glared at his sister's husband, and reminded himself that if he harmed Faramir, Eowyn would surely come after him, and she was not one he would like to deal with. "What?"
"Not that a disaster will befall her!" Faramir quickly attempted to save himself after Eomer's glare. "I am sure Lothiriel will be perfectly fine."
Aragorn cleared his throat, even though he would be amused to see Eomer chase Faramir around Osgilith he rather hoped to get through this meeting. "I received word from Minas Tirith that Prince Imrahil will be arriving in Osgilith soon. Apparently he has had all the healing he can stand and was threatening to drop a healer off the balcony if they refused to allow him permission to depart any longer. Perhaps word from Edoras reached him in Minas Tirith instead. He is her Father and Minas Tirith is a more secure location after all." He pointed out.
"Perhaps." Eomer said, accepting Aragorn's attempt at reassurance. "Nevertheless, my Lord Aragorn, I would appreciate if we could soon draw a close to this conflict. My wife is with child, and I would rather like to see him or her before they are old enough to knock their father off his feet."
Aragorn laughed, and was about to reply to this comment, when a new voice entered the scene.
"What? My sister is carrying another child of yours?" The all looked to see Erchirion, second son of Prince Imrahil, standing in the "doorway" of the ruin, looking rather smug that he managed to surprise the group.
"Ah! Erchirion, we did not hear news of your arrival." Aragorn greeted the man. "How fares your Father?"
"Well, sire." Erchirion replied, with a bow to his King. "He should be here shortly. If you will excuse me sire, I would like to settle family business." Erchirion said with a wicked grin, turning to Eomer.
The King of the Mark was never quite sure what to expect from Erchirion. His wife's older brother was unpredictable at times. Many a time Eomer had found himself on the wrong end of Erchirion's fist, but he judged Erchirion to be a pleasant enough man who was merely overprotective of his sister. Eomer would even venture to say he enjoyed Erchirion's company at times, time when he was not dodging his fist of course.
"So! My sister is in a delicate condition, and no news was sent to my brothers, our Father, or myself. What have you to say for yourself?" Erchirion asked, fighting a grin and crossing his arms. He was in an oddly good mood that day, and decided torturing the poor King of the Mark would be amusing.
"Twas my wife's bidding of course." Eomer sensed the man's good humor and grinned sheepishly. "I have nothing but pride for my wife, my Lord. She is indeed the finest thing that ever hailed from Dol Amroth and stepped upon Rohirrim soil, and our little child shall be a proud Prince or Princess of the Mark." He bowed low. "Punish me as you will."
"Well said, my daughter's husband." Imrahil, who had appeared as his son stated Lothiriel's condition. He immediately understood his daughter's decision to keep her condition quiet for a while, in case she lost the child. His wife had done the same with all four of their children and he hoped that Erchirion would not hold a grudge.
"Uncle, I hope you are well." Faramir greeted. "The healers-"
"Are worse than a flock of vultures!" Imrahil declared, finishing the younger man's sentence with a scowl. "They would not have released me had I not threatened to shove the next bowl of broth down their throats."
"He did too." Erchirion chimed in. "My King, you shall have some very unhappy healers waiting upon your return to Minas Tirith."
Aragorn laughed, "Nevertheless, it is good to see you. The forces of Dol Amroth are most welcome here."
Imrahil bowed to his King. "My men are ever at your disposal, my liege."
Aragorn nodded, "Now come gentlemen! Let us discuss the matter at hand!"
The conversation went back to battle plans. Although Eomer had stopped his pacing his mind continued to wander back to the grassy fields of the Mark. He wondered what was happening in his country, and how Lothiriel was faring at this moment.
* * * *
Across the mountains in the Mark a man stood alone in a field outside Edoras. He was just out of sight of the city and wore a cloak of dark green with his hood drawn. He waited patiently, the wind whipping past and blowing the folds of his cloak to and fro. A rider approached, and the man watched with narrowed eyes as his companion dismounted and quickly closed the distance between them.
"How goes it?" The cloaked man asked sharply, with no time for niceties or greetings.
"Very well my Lord." The rider replied. "No news of Edoras has leaked to the rest of the country, and my men are in position in Gondor."
The cloaked man nodded, "Will they be ready?"
"Of course my Lord. When the time comes, they shall see to the King as planned." The rider replied. He then hesitated, "My Lord, do you not worry about re-admittance to the city?" The rider asked.
The cloaked man waved off his concerns, "My men guard the gates. I will slip in and out unhindered, and none will hear of it. I have everything set for when the time comes, my friend."
The rider nodded, accepting his answer. "And what of the Queen, my Lord?"
The cloaked man raised his chin, a smug look crossing his face. "The Queen believes whatever information is fed to her." He laughed, however it was not a kind tone. It was more of a harsh, bark of a laugh, laced with bitterness. "She knows little of our land or its ways. She is not hard to deceive."
The rider shifted on his feet, watching his companion. "And when the time comes, what if she gives us difficulties?" He asked. "It could be dangerous."
The man laughed once more, "She is a woman. What difficulties could she possibly bring?" He asked. "Nay my friend. Everything is proceeding as scheduled." A cold smile spread across his lips, a cold scheming smile. "We need only wait for the opportune moment to strike."
* * * * * * * * * * *
A/N- This is my attempt at being mysterious. Heh. Not much to say at the moment, except don't hold your breath for the next chapter because the furthest I've gotten on it is thinking about what happens while driving across the state. Hope you enjoyed this one! Big thanks to my wonderful beta reader :-)
Lady of Legolas- Hehe and what makes you so sure Eomer will return? You know, besides what the book says? Hehe! I'm playing with your mind... mwahahahaha! Sorry... lack of sleep. Anyway, thanks for the reviews! I'll let the advisors know you said not to pick on Lothiriel, but they don't listen to me. Stupid characters! Thanks for reviewing :-)
Heyoka- Thank you for reviewing. All I can tell you is wait and see where I'm really going. I haven't really shown my hand yet :-) As you probably made the intelligent guess... Lothiriel isn't exactly being given the truth from certain people who shall remain nameless. Okay, so I'm not good at the mysterious thing so you'll probably be able to guess who, but all is not well in the Riddermark :-) Or... it won't be when I FINALLY get around to writing more. Thanks for the helpful review! I actually got it right after I was going over the chapter thinking I laid it on too thick and Lothiriel may look stupid by the end. Well, she can blame it on hormones.... like I blame things on the blonde hair.... Anyway! Have a great day and thank you so much for reviewing! Hope you'll review again :-)
Thanks to you two for reviewing! You both get the gold stars for the day.
YO!!! YOU!! YOU PERSON WHO IS READING THIS RIGHT NOW! REVIEW!! NOW!! Sorry, angry Bean surfaced there. But happy Bean says the same thing in a much nicer way! Please review! I'd really like to hear from you! Thanks! Happy reading!