Chapter 8.
The sun was still shining brightly outside when he reached the back terrace. Though dark clouds had now come to rest on the peaks of the mountains. If they could make it over the range then there would be a storm tonight. He leaned against the large carved post and closed his eyes for a moment, pondering over what he should say to his sister and Dengal.
He could understand his sister being enamored with such a handsome man but his outward appearance had nothing to do with the interior. Inside he knew he was a brave man and a good soldier, but there also he harbored a weakness for pretty woman and volatile relationships.
How could she choose the one man in the whole of Edoras that he wished her to stay away from? He didn't want to be her father, he wanted to be her brother, but when she made such irresponsible choices what else was there to do?
Footsteps approached from the other side of the terrace. Dengal stopped beside him and crossed his arms, as he too glanced over the golden expanse before them and the menacing clouds upon the peaks.
"A storm is coming," he said simply though his voice wavered.
Éomer smiled inwardly and opened his eyes. He had come alone to try and show he was not the rabbit that ran and hid the night before. But his voice betrayed the truth; he was afraid and nervous, and perhaps doubtful that any girl, whatever her status may be, was worth this.
Éomer glanced over at the young man who would not meet his gaze. "Yes, if it can make it past the mountains. The clouds are treacherous, but the mountains are a mighty bulwark. They will block the storm's every attempt at reaching the fields," Éomer replied with a wry smile.
Dengal swallowed nervously at Éomer's words and was silent. The uneasy smile replaced by a disconcerted frown as he tried to understand the man's veiled threats. "Éowyn thought it best for me to come and talk to you by myself."
"To prove you are not the coward you seemed last night."
Dengal stiffened, "I am no coward, and you have seen me face our enemies in battle. I have fought by your side many times, and clasped your hand at the end of a battle. I am no coward."
"All men are cowards Dengal, when it comes to some area where they are weak. You acted the fool last night to run away. My opinion of you was lowered immensely… I would choose no other man to stand by my side in battle, but I would choose another to hold my sister's heart."
"That is not for you to decide."
"Ah… but for the moment it is. She is not old enough to know what she truly wants. And she must learn to live with my decisions for her whether she agrees with them or not. You are not the man for my sister, and I will tell you now that I will not be so merciful the next time if I see you with her again."
Dengal nodded with a venomous glare in his eyes, "Yes my lord." he said simply, quickly leaving.
Another familiar voice startled him out of his reverie. "Well you handled that very nicely Éomer, though next time I would suggest you not make your threats of violence so obvious," Théodred suggested with a wry smile.
Éomer turned and looked at him seriously, "Was I to harsh? I respect Dengal as a soldier but no man like that will hope to become my brother."
Théodred nodded silently in agreement and laid a hand on his cousin's back. "I agree, however remember this moment, the next time you find yourself enamored with some girl, I think your sister might want a say in the matter."
"I don't think we'll have to worry about that for some time."
"Your right, no lass could possibly think about marrying you," Théodred laughed dodging as his cousin swiped his hand up in reply.
"At least I am not the one who is nearly thirty-three, and still as much of an eligible bachelor as the day I was born!" Éomer laughed pushing the doors open with a creak.
They entered inside, their eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of the hall, and the meager light that came only from a few windows and candles that were lit all day long. A chilly breeze swept in behind them as the doors shut and a single figure suddenly emerged from the shadow startled. Éomer stepped forward as he realized who it was.
"Stop lurking in the shadows your skin is so accustomed to Grima. Do not listen to words that are not meant for your ears," he growled at the skulking creature.
Wormtongue's face became visible and his wet lips moved slowly, "My lords you mistake me I was seeking the king and thought you both would know his whereabouts. Do not accuse such a loyal servant of the throne, I implore you."
"Loyal indeed, eavesdropper is more like it. Now be gone, you know at this hour the king is in the hall," Théodred answered continuing on his way, Éomer following close behind. Grima glared at them and went the opposite way.
They were too strong together, too strong a barricade to his plans. One of them at least had to fall before his plans could come to completion. They still had sway with the king, emotional influence, this was dangerous to him. He had to supplant them both, kill them both. Be rid of them forever. Without his son and nephew, king Théoden would fall easily, and Éowyn… Beautiful as the spring sunrise, would be easily persuaded to take his side. She was already at odds with her brother. Yes the pieces would fall together easily with them both out of the way…
"Gandalf Greyhame, yes he has been here before, only twice since I was born and scarcely more than that when my father was not yet king. He is a wizard, subtle, mysterious, grumpy, joyful, perplexing and so many other traits wrapped up into one being that I cannot list them all. I had not heard news of his coming." Théodred answered in reply to his cousin's inquiry.
"And you will hear none of his going either. He implored the king for secrecy; he and his companion are to leave nigh sunrise tomorrow without a word."
"Then he is on some errand, very important. But who is this companion you speak of?" Théodred asked his brow wrinkling.
"He is a man, perhaps a ranger from the north, he was dressed shabbily and not worth notice other than the easy way in which he carried himself, as if he had been in a hundred different halls before."
"If he is indeed a ranger, then he has," Théodred paused before the doors to the great hall, "Here I must leave, though I hope you find more of the wizard and tell me later."
Éomer nodded as the doors closed behind his friend and continued to the visitors' quarters. He arrived there minutes after and knocked at the door loudly. There was no reply for a moment and then there was a slight rustle of fabric, faint and the door swung open slowly.
In the door stood the wizard, looking at him most amused. "Ah, Éomer, so inquisitiveness has finally taken hold. Good, good, I need some information. Now I will ask the questions and mayhaps you can answer them, come in sit. My companion is sleeping in the other room."
Éomer looked at the man curiously, and followed him in, sitting on the nearest chair, "How did you…"
"Oh it was only a matter of time before you or Théodred came to the door, your cousin might have been more useful, but you will be fine. Now is no time for foolish questions. Rohan is not what it used to be, now don't speak, you know I am right. Théoden is becoming dull like a blade left too long out of service. If you wish to aid Rohan answer my questions. How long has the current advisor been in the king's service?"
The night wore on, Éomer had not wagered on such a wearying experience. Slowly the wizard's questions wore at his outer covering. At one point he was close to coming out with Grima's treachery. So close to telling of that day which had haunted his memory for so long. But he did not, the outer defenses of his memory held strong and he did not speak of it. He would not, least of all to this wizard who he did not even know. But oh how he longed to tell Éowyn or Théodred now, he wanted to tell his sister so she would once again join his side on a matter, the desire to tell his cousin was out of loyalty to the throne. Very near midnight, Éomer left the room fatigued by the memories, the questions.
His bed was warm and comforting, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep, all the while vaguely wondering how Gandalf knew his name…