Once again, I wish I owned them, but I don't. And a special thank you to Evendim, who allowed me to borrow a few of her own creations, starting with the ever present adjutant, Ancir.
Thank you to all the reviewers who encouraged me to continue.
"Why does he trail along?" The first guard questioned.
"He goes to join his cousin," The second replied, laughing quietly, "in exile."
The first joined him in his mirth. It was a well known fact within this handpicked, elite guard that the King's son had been sent away within months of their leaders promotion.
"Uncle?"
"Hmmmm……." Theoden blinked momentarily.
"Why do we offer our horses to Gondor every year?" At sixteen, Eomer was just beginning to learn court protocol.
"Young men have no need to meddle in the agreements between two kingdoms." The advisor quickly answered.
Eomer suspiciously eyed Grima, then decided to hold his next question. The advisor was never far from his uncle's side since Theodred went to Helms Deep.
They rode in silence the rest of the afternoon. By the time they'd stopped to set camp, they were met by Theodred himself.
"Father." The prince bowed. "It is good to see you."
Theoden merely looked out across the plains.
"The King is in need of rest, it was a long journey." Grima stood beside Theoden, then motioned for the head physician to take the King to his pavilion and serve him the elixir that allowed him free reign.
"Why did you not stop earlier then?" Theodred spat, 'Oh, how he despised this man.' Then turned to the young man smiling. "Eomer? Is that you?"
"Cousin." Eomer returned the smile as he was pulled into a hug.
He had missed his older relative. From the time his sister and he had been brought to live with their uncle, they had always been treated as one of Theoden's own and Theodred had taken the younger boy under his wing. Only lately, Theodred had been sent away for longer periods of time.
Stepping back, the older man looked closely at his cousin. He'd grown almost as tall as himself and looked to become a fine warrior. He was also to young to wear such a frown. Eyebrows raised in question, Theodred was about to ask what seemed to bother him so, when he was interrupted.
"I see you brought your men with you. Are times so changed that a man cannot ride alone through the plains?" Grima's rested his hand on the prince's arm for a second, then moved it away at the glare directed at him.
"As you have brought yours." Theodred nodded toward the court guard, letting it be known that he knew exactly who picked them.
Grima turned to Eomer and said with malice. "Should you not be seeing to your steed? You are not in Edoras now, the men will not do this for you."
"Never have I allowed another to do my work." The young man spat. Then fell silent when he felt his cousin's hand on his shoulder.
"The horses need to rest, we leave after I speak to father. Alone." Looking pointedly at the advisor.
Nodding, Eomer walked his horse to join the men at the line.
"As his advisor, I must ………."
"You must nothing!" The prince interrupted. "Always you try to worm your way into my father's head."
Leaning closer, Theodred whispered. "I will stop you. You will not destroy my family, nor my country."
It was hours later, when the advisor turned to the man next to him. "He is still trouble, my Lord. He questions all that we do."
"Patience Grima. Soon Gondor will join Theoden, and the prince will matter not." The physician turned to go back to the King.
"And what of Gondor's sons my Lord?"
"What of them? One is scared witless, while the other even now paves the way for our visit."
Grima stood there watching until the dust had faded away.
Meanwhile in Gondor
For the last two weeks he'd spoken to none, joined in no training, and ate alone (when he could eat). He was once again parted from all he knew and though this time there were no bonds nor threats, this fed his fears, his insecurities, more than what he'd been through.
His chest hurt to think of the look he last saw on Boromir's face. He was angered, yes. Disappointed, most certainly. But for the first time in young Faramir's life, his brother had the same look that father always wore when dealing with him.
Two Weeks Earlier
Denethor watched his eldest for a moment, then nodded. 'Finally, he sees the boy for what he is.'
"This is not a matter for the army, it is, however, a matter of the Hurin House." Turning he momentarily glanced at his younger son, then sat in his chair and looked at the counsel. "You are dismissed. You may join us for the evening meal."
All stood, bowed to the Steward, then filed out the door. Only Borimir's Adjutant, Ancir, stood back and to the side of his commander and friend. He watched all of this in silence. Ancir understood the makings of representing your house, he himself Heir of Lossarnach, but he could not comprehend this public humiliation. Boromir normally coddled his younger brother to distraction in private and yet he had not asked to see Faramir alone. But then, Faramir had never done anything of this magnitude either. Still, something was bothering him. Ancir had been there when the young man entered the city and had been arrested, when he'd dismounted his horse rather awkwardly, and Faramir had yet to utter a word. The Adjutant's attention was drawn to the scene unfolding before him.
"All you had to do was stay another week!"
"I… I… Faramir Stuttered.
"Silence!" Boromir now stopped pacing, standing in front of his trembling brother, "You have shamed father and the city. We received word that Theoden King is angered that you were so rude."
"But I…. they…." Faramir whispered, then stopped, afraid to say more.
"They What!" Boromir shouted, then his voice turned to ice. "Faramir, remember I have visited Rohan many times and have only been treated with respect."
Looking at his friend, Ancir thought he could actually see the tension rolling off Boromir's shoulders. And his green eyes had never looked so feral. 'Something is definitely wrong here.'
After all was said and done, his captain, his brother, had banished him to the barracks under solitary confinement. He was not to leave his cell, for that is what it would now always seem to him, until he was summoned.
Curling into himself, facing the wall, Faramir silently sobbed himself into an uneasy sleep once again.