Far and Away
Chapter Fourteen
Rated: Pg-13
Summary: King Theoden discovers the truth about his son and is left broken hearted, but is soon faced with another decision: to risk open war or to flee to the refugee of Helm's Deep. Eowyn head-over-heals for this new, dark stranger, but will sparks fly or will her heart be dragged down with her pride?
"Where is my son, where is Theodred?"
Everyone seemed to stiffen. A complete hush settled over the crowd. The King glanced from face to face. His eyes fell on Eowyn. She bowed her head. She couldn't look at him.
He doesn't know! He doesn't know that Theodred is dead.
Theoden climbed the stairs and then gripping his niece's shoulder, looked into her stormy gray eyes. She breathed in deep, trying to keep from crying.
"Eowyn, where is my son?"
~*~
Theodred was finally buried. His father's heart was broken, though the King held his head high and didn't show emotion. Eowyn closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window frame. She drew her knees to her breast and hugged them. A soft wind blew through the open window, cooling Eowyn's tear-streaked face. She had been able to bottle up her emotions until she was out of sight. Eowyn opened her eyes and gazed at the sky. It was deep blue, clouds scattered about the heavens.
Sighing, Eowyn wiped her face and climbed down from the window seat. Silently she walked down the hall, running her hand over the smooth, cold stonewall. Every thirty paces there was a wooden pillar set into the wall, rising and curving once it met the ceiling. White horses graced the ceiling, prancing on the swirls of carved oak.
Eowyn's head was tilted, taking in the entirety of the beauty. Ethel, now very old, approached Eowyn.
"My lady, your Uncle, the King calls for you. He is in the Golden Hall, dining with the guests and officials. He wishes you to join him."
"Thank you Ethel." Eowyn smiled kindly on the old woman. She had often played jokes on Ethel when Eowyn was younger, but ever since Ethel's only son had died over two years ago, Eowyn felt obligated to look after her old teacher.
Ethel smiled, her wrinkles increasing. She patted Eowyn's hand as she walked by, muttering something about Eowyn changing into such a nice young woman.
Eowyn watched as Ethel disappeared behind a corner and then soundlessly entered the Golden Hall. She took a pitcher from a table and began to pour wine into empty glasses at the table.
Theoden sat at the head of the table with Gandalf at his right and the dark man on his left. The Elf and dwarf sat next to each other. Hama and Gambling sat at the end along with any other numerous officials.
One official patted Eowyn's butt as she passed him. Before he could pull back his hand, Eowyn had grabbed it and twisted it within an inch of the breaking point. The man's surprised cry drew everyone's attention. "Never touch a woman like that. And don't you ever, ever touch me again." The man began to laugh but it quickly changed to a scream of pain as his arm snapped. Eowyn bowed, "I beg your pardon, my King."
Then she rushed out of the room, but before she could make her exit, her Uncle called to her. "My child, why do you serve when you should be dining here with us?" Nodding to a servant, he turned back to Eowyn. "I see that no court is best to suit you, but in that case, I support your action."
Eowyn smiled. A chair was pulled up for her. She sat and remain unspoken, yet her eyes wandered, often resting on the one that was being called Aragorn.
Eventually Eowyn rose, and taking up a golden cup of wine, said, "Ferthu Theoden Hal! Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with you at your going and coming."
She first offered it to the King and after he had drunk, she took it to the other guests. They each drank from the cup. When she came to Aragorn, she paused and looked upon him. She suddenly felt small and childish as she held out the cup to him. As he took it from her, his hand brushed hers. She trembled beneath his touch and she felt that he knew.
"Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!" she stuttered.
A look of slight confusion passed over his face. "Hail Lady of Rohan," he replied. He turned his face from her then, his eyes troubled.
After everyone had drunk, Theoden stood and said, "We have business we must attend to now, but let us move into more comfortable quarters, where we might discuss to our heart's content." Everyone stood and went into a side chamber where they began to discuss what had to be done Eowyn stayed and helped the maid clear the plates and other dishes from the large wooden table. But Eowyn's eyes wandered and she would glance toward the half closed door. The rise and fall of the men's deep voices could be heard in the Golden Hall.
Eowyn waited for the men to emerge from the room, but after three hours, she gave up and went to her room. She settled herself in her window seat (can you tell that I really like window seats?) and softly played a melody on her lyre. The song was sweet, but sad. Those were really the only kinds of songs that she knew how to play, for that's all she'd been taught. Eowyn sighed and leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she thought of the man.
Aragorn. He was from the line of Kings. I could be a queen if I married him. She shook her head. It was stupid. She barely knew this man, yet she was in love with him. Or was she? What if the dream was true? What if he turns me away? She'd turned lots of men away before who had come to her with marriage proposals, so why was it so hard for her to think that someone might reject her?
Eowyn groaned. "I will not let this drive me mad! Maybe he could like me, maybe love me. To be the queen of the heir of Isildur. That would be such a dream."
Eowyn slowly continued to play her lyre, consumed with her thoughts. A soft knock on the door startled her. The Elf and dwarf were standing outside her open door, looking curiously at her.
She smiled faintly. "Come in, my lords." The dwarf wandered in curiously and the Elf followed more cautiously. Rising, Eowyn curtsied to them as she was taught.
The Elf and dwarf both bowed in return. "My," said the dwarf. "I don't care much for wooden structures, but this is some great handiwork!"
The Elf smiled and half whispered, "Consider it a compliment."
Eowyn grinned back. "My lords, I don't believe that I know your names."
The dwarf glanced over his short shoulder. "I am Gimli, son of Gloin. Pleased to meet you, Eowyn daughter of Rohan."
"I am Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood." Legolas nodded to Eowyn and looked around her room. "This is quite impressive work, I must admit. The only that I've seen finer is the work done in Rivendell."
"I am Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, but you already know that." Eowyn looked at the wood cravings and designs swirling and riding over the ceiling beams. "I love the handiwork around here. It shows the history of our people. See?' Eowyn pointed up at the ceiling with a man claming a wild horse. "That is Eorl, our forefather. That horse that he is calming killed his father. Now those kin horses are the mightiest and our land's pride. These nine men are our first line of kings. And here on this other wall is the other seven men from the second line of kings."
Legolas followed where she was pointing. He seemed to admire the carvings. Gimli was drifting aimlessly around the room.
"Those are some magnificent horses." Legolas said, glancing over his shoulder.
Eowyn nodded. "Is my Uncle done with their counsel?'
"Almost my lady."
Eowyn nodded. She sat down in her window seat again as the two companions gazed at the Rohirrim art on the walls and ceiling. And she waited, until she finally heard the sound of voices and footsteps coming down the hall.
~*~ I am so sorry that I haven't had the chance to update the chapter but I've had a lot of homework and its getting really close to the end of the year and I have four reports due in less than three weeks. So, thanks to every one who reviews this, and I'm sorry if I screwed it all up, please offer suggestions! Please Review!
Chapter Fourteen
Rated: Pg-13
Summary: King Theoden discovers the truth about his son and is left broken hearted, but is soon faced with another decision: to risk open war or to flee to the refugee of Helm's Deep. Eowyn head-over-heals for this new, dark stranger, but will sparks fly or will her heart be dragged down with her pride?
"Where is my son, where is Theodred?"
Everyone seemed to stiffen. A complete hush settled over the crowd. The King glanced from face to face. His eyes fell on Eowyn. She bowed her head. She couldn't look at him.
He doesn't know! He doesn't know that Theodred is dead.
Theoden climbed the stairs and then gripping his niece's shoulder, looked into her stormy gray eyes. She breathed in deep, trying to keep from crying.
"Eowyn, where is my son?"
~*~
Theodred was finally buried. His father's heart was broken, though the King held his head high and didn't show emotion. Eowyn closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window frame. She drew her knees to her breast and hugged them. A soft wind blew through the open window, cooling Eowyn's tear-streaked face. She had been able to bottle up her emotions until she was out of sight. Eowyn opened her eyes and gazed at the sky. It was deep blue, clouds scattered about the heavens.
Sighing, Eowyn wiped her face and climbed down from the window seat. Silently she walked down the hall, running her hand over the smooth, cold stonewall. Every thirty paces there was a wooden pillar set into the wall, rising and curving once it met the ceiling. White horses graced the ceiling, prancing on the swirls of carved oak.
Eowyn's head was tilted, taking in the entirety of the beauty. Ethel, now very old, approached Eowyn.
"My lady, your Uncle, the King calls for you. He is in the Golden Hall, dining with the guests and officials. He wishes you to join him."
"Thank you Ethel." Eowyn smiled kindly on the old woman. She had often played jokes on Ethel when Eowyn was younger, but ever since Ethel's only son had died over two years ago, Eowyn felt obligated to look after her old teacher.
Ethel smiled, her wrinkles increasing. She patted Eowyn's hand as she walked by, muttering something about Eowyn changing into such a nice young woman.
Eowyn watched as Ethel disappeared behind a corner and then soundlessly entered the Golden Hall. She took a pitcher from a table and began to pour wine into empty glasses at the table.
Theoden sat at the head of the table with Gandalf at his right and the dark man on his left. The Elf and dwarf sat next to each other. Hama and Gambling sat at the end along with any other numerous officials.
One official patted Eowyn's butt as she passed him. Before he could pull back his hand, Eowyn had grabbed it and twisted it within an inch of the breaking point. The man's surprised cry drew everyone's attention. "Never touch a woman like that. And don't you ever, ever touch me again." The man began to laugh but it quickly changed to a scream of pain as his arm snapped. Eowyn bowed, "I beg your pardon, my King."
Then she rushed out of the room, but before she could make her exit, her Uncle called to her. "My child, why do you serve when you should be dining here with us?" Nodding to a servant, he turned back to Eowyn. "I see that no court is best to suit you, but in that case, I support your action."
Eowyn smiled. A chair was pulled up for her. She sat and remain unspoken, yet her eyes wandered, often resting on the one that was being called Aragorn.
Eventually Eowyn rose, and taking up a golden cup of wine, said, "Ferthu Theoden Hal! Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with you at your going and coming."
She first offered it to the King and after he had drunk, she took it to the other guests. They each drank from the cup. When she came to Aragorn, she paused and looked upon him. She suddenly felt small and childish as she held out the cup to him. As he took it from her, his hand brushed hers. She trembled beneath his touch and she felt that he knew.
"Hail Aragorn son of Arathorn!" she stuttered.
A look of slight confusion passed over his face. "Hail Lady of Rohan," he replied. He turned his face from her then, his eyes troubled.
After everyone had drunk, Theoden stood and said, "We have business we must attend to now, but let us move into more comfortable quarters, where we might discuss to our heart's content." Everyone stood and went into a side chamber where they began to discuss what had to be done Eowyn stayed and helped the maid clear the plates and other dishes from the large wooden table. But Eowyn's eyes wandered and she would glance toward the half closed door. The rise and fall of the men's deep voices could be heard in the Golden Hall.
Eowyn waited for the men to emerge from the room, but after three hours, she gave up and went to her room. She settled herself in her window seat (can you tell that I really like window seats?) and softly played a melody on her lyre. The song was sweet, but sad. Those were really the only kinds of songs that she knew how to play, for that's all she'd been taught. Eowyn sighed and leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she thought of the man.
Aragorn. He was from the line of Kings. I could be a queen if I married him. She shook her head. It was stupid. She barely knew this man, yet she was in love with him. Or was she? What if the dream was true? What if he turns me away? She'd turned lots of men away before who had come to her with marriage proposals, so why was it so hard for her to think that someone might reject her?
Eowyn groaned. "I will not let this drive me mad! Maybe he could like me, maybe love me. To be the queen of the heir of Isildur. That would be such a dream."
Eowyn slowly continued to play her lyre, consumed with her thoughts. A soft knock on the door startled her. The Elf and dwarf were standing outside her open door, looking curiously at her.
She smiled faintly. "Come in, my lords." The dwarf wandered in curiously and the Elf followed more cautiously. Rising, Eowyn curtsied to them as she was taught.
The Elf and dwarf both bowed in return. "My," said the dwarf. "I don't care much for wooden structures, but this is some great handiwork!"
The Elf smiled and half whispered, "Consider it a compliment."
Eowyn grinned back. "My lords, I don't believe that I know your names."
The dwarf glanced over his short shoulder. "I am Gimli, son of Gloin. Pleased to meet you, Eowyn daughter of Rohan."
"I am Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood." Legolas nodded to Eowyn and looked around her room. "This is quite impressive work, I must admit. The only that I've seen finer is the work done in Rivendell."
"I am Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, but you already know that." Eowyn looked at the wood cravings and designs swirling and riding over the ceiling beams. "I love the handiwork around here. It shows the history of our people. See?' Eowyn pointed up at the ceiling with a man claming a wild horse. "That is Eorl, our forefather. That horse that he is calming killed his father. Now those kin horses are the mightiest and our land's pride. These nine men are our first line of kings. And here on this other wall is the other seven men from the second line of kings."
Legolas followed where she was pointing. He seemed to admire the carvings. Gimli was drifting aimlessly around the room.
"Those are some magnificent horses." Legolas said, glancing over his shoulder.
Eowyn nodded. "Is my Uncle done with their counsel?'
"Almost my lady."
Eowyn nodded. She sat down in her window seat again as the two companions gazed at the Rohirrim art on the walls and ceiling. And she waited, until she finally heard the sound of voices and footsteps coming down the hall.
~*~ I am so sorry that I haven't had the chance to update the chapter but I've had a lot of homework and its getting really close to the end of the year and I have four reports due in less than three weeks. So, thanks to every one who reviews this, and I'm sorry if I screwed it all up, please offer suggestions! Please Review!