Chapter Three

Grimá

The King has returned to his chamber. His eyes held an emotion I could not identify. I do not look forward to the horse-ride tomorrow, my riding skills are non-existent and the ride to Isenguard was fueled by fear, not pleasure. Yet I dare not let him down and I trust he will be patient. Tolerance is all I can ask, or expect.

The morning, and I enter his room at his summons. He is stripped to the waist and displays an athletic torso. I admire what I cannot emulate; it is one of the ironies of my life that although I can feel pleasure and passion to either sex, both are repulsed by me. However, I have reconciled myself to that fact, especially after Eowyn's rejection, and content myself merely by glancing at him as he dresses.

We eat and go to the stables, where Eomer lifts me to mount my horse. I do not remember him so tactile but such thoughts are banished as he gallops off and I concentrate on hanging on for dear life, promoting smirks from the Hall guards as I pass.

We ride towards the stream at the foot of the mountains and, seeing my discomfiture, Eomer slows and we trot towards it.

"I was always on some guard duty or other. I had never had time to seek the beauty of this land. That view Grimá; what think you?"

"It is beautiful sire, your observations are.."

"It is beautiful will do. Why must you dress up these remarks? You were never so obtuse in your lessons."

A hand raises and instinctively I flinch, the memory of many hurts flash through my mind. But Eomer had been laughing and now his face grew grave. His hand landed gently on the back of my neck and stayed there, warming it."

"Do not think that I would strike you, Grimá."

We rode for some time in silence until he remarked, "You remember how to prepare a camp don't you?"

Camp? He said nothing about staying out! At night-time with whatever may be lurking in the shadows? Night-time, when all the nightterrors that crowd me cause me to doubt my own sanity? My look of panic is rewarded with a grin before he gallops off and I am forced to follow.

"Should we not return sire?"

"No!"

"The hall would run better with you within, my lord. Surely it would be better to return?"

"The Hall will be fine for one night Grimá! Why do you worry?"

By now I am out of breath, my chest hurts and I am trying to stay upright in my saddle. I have not replied and he slows, take my reins as well as my own and we trot slowly to Fangorn Forest where we set up camp. It is much quieter; the Ents now reside at Isenguard and the forest has small voices of its own now. A brace of coneys small bitter little things, make a stew and I bring windfall for the small circle of stones; I can remember how to do that at least.

We stretch out by the fire and look up at the stars, as diamonds on velvet.

"I can never remember the names of the constellations Grimá." There is a nervous undertone to his voice - he needn't be embarrassed about that surely?

I name them, pointing them out when he leaned closer so that his head was next to mine. Eventually I run out of constellations and I suspect he has fallen asleep. Looking over he has and I wrap him up with the blanket. I move a little closer to the fire and listen to the forest sounds.

"Grimá, come here," a sleepy voice says from behind me.

"Go back to sleep my lord,"

"You need the blanket as well, come here."

I shift over and we lie back to back. It takes a long time to settle as the ground is so hard and rustling noises keep me alert for a while.

I am drifting off when something moves on my leg. A slight pause and it moves again. Warmer and slightly braver it moves up further, caressing my side. It feels warm, the fingers are callused but the touch is gentle and feels good...

The fingers?

Eomer is dreaming, that must be it. That could be the only explanation. He shifts and something hard pokes the base of my spine, shifting me forward. It would be his sword, obviously, he would not go unarmed, and saving that his sword is by his side so...

Oh.

Eomer is a well-proportioned man it seems. I have no clue as to behave. He is asleep; he would not behave this way so I must remove myself so that there would be no embarrassment, no tension between us. He must not realise that I have seen him in this state.

I make to slide away and his head nuzzles at my neck and my body is responding. Feelings that have absent for a long, long time flood my body and some intensely pleasurable moments pass with his hands on my body. I sense the stars through slitted eyes and a few gasps escape me. I must be careful not to wake him and ...

What am I doing? I deserve all the names bestowed on me. I move to the fire, feeling deep shame and Eomer rolls forward, banging his nose on the floor and waking up. Two bleary eyes try to focus on me and I urge him to go back to sleep.

"You'll be cold," he replies sullenly and I smile back at him.

"I've been colder that this my lord, I will be fine."

He settles back down, his breathing becoming more regular, not as harsh as before. When my head starts to droop, I crawl back to my space, taking care not to disturb him. Awake at daybreak, with a chorus of birds, we de-camp and ride back to Edoras and Eomer comments on how quiet I am.

"A little tired my lord, that is all."

"You are not used to the outdoor life, that is all!" Then he stares at me.

"What is it, my lord?"

"Your eye is paler. Go to the apothecary when we get back."

We return and he is busy on some business. My eye is examined and it is some growth over the eye, a thin layer of tissue. It will blind it eventually. I had become so used to the greyness that I did not realise what had happened.

I spend the rest of the day alone in my room. One eye will be totally useless. Will I become totally useless to him? How soon before he casts me out?

Eomer.

I frightened him off. He did not mention last night but I have not seen him all day. It is frustrating beyond belief, he is more nervous than any woman I have been with, that is certain. And yet he sighed in pleasure I am sure of it!

Damn him, I will go and question him. He cannot be so obscure! I question a guard and am told he is in his room. Very well, I will go there. I rise to go and a messenger from Gondor has arrived for the King. I go and greet him, making all the correct responses but my mind is elsewhere, in a small chamber next to mine

Grimá

Eomer arrives well after they have eaten, I am sure. His face is working, he is struggling with something.

I stand. "My lord, I fear I am no use to you."

"What?"

"You asked me to visit the apothecary and I visited him. There is a growth on my eye, which will spread. My eye will be rendered useless by this. I will understand if you wish me to leave the council, there are other, more able men."

"No." He strides over, lifts my head and stares into my eye.

"There are magnifying glasses and other things that would help - why would you need to leave the council? Why do you assume I would be rid of you?"

"Why would you want me to stay?"

"Ohhhh!" In sheer frustration he grabs handfuls of his hair and paces, dropping his arms.

"You are the most exasperating, frustrating man I know! You jump to absurd conclusions, you have no regard for yourself and think everyone else feels the same way."

Stunned by his exclamation I sit down. "But what I have done..."

"You got away. You did not join the fight against us and I recognised your writing on the note warning us about the troops coming to Pelonnor. Saruman is dead, he cannot harm you any more. We have routed the orcs. No-one will be coming for revenge. The past is gone, Grimá. We have a future to plan for Rohan and Gondor and all the rest of MiddleEarth. And I wish to do this with you."

He kneels before me so our heads are at the same height. And then he embraces me.