A/N: I'm going out of town this weekend, and thought I'd post the next chapter before I leave. Next week, we'll probably be back on the usual Saturday/Sunday schedule. :)
Lisswyn woke, but kept her eyes closed. It was only partially to prevent those around her from realizing she was awake. She still had trouble focusing, and when her eyes were open, the dizziness was worse. But mostly it was because she didn't want to talk to anyone. Didn't want them to talk to her.
She knew they were worried about her, but she could not bring herself to care.
Maegwen was dead.
And for all intents and purposes, Lisswyn had killed her.
She knew what it was like to lose someone, to take a blow and then get up and keep going. She just didn't know how to do it this time. And she wished desperately that some form of justice had played out during that battle; that if only one of them was going to die it had been herself.
She pushed all of it away, prepared to slide back into the darkness, when she heard the soft voice.
"Eomer…she's awake."
She frowned. She'd figured out from an earlier conversation that the other man was the King of Gondor. That had explained a great many things, including their surviving the second orc attack. And based on a comment Eomer-King had made, apparently it explained her survival from her injuries as well. She should probably feel honored that he was tending her, but mostly she just hoped that no one else was suffering while he did.
He was very astute. She'd realized earlier that he was seldom fooled about whether or not she was actually asleep, though he generally left her in peace.
But this time, that was apparently not the plan.
The soft voices of the men continued, and she realized that she was alone with them – the children and other women were elsewhere.
"I will go check on our men." There was a pause, and then the King of Gondor continued. "Eomer, be careful." She heard his steps as he left the cave.
Be careful? Was he in danger?
She opened her eyes, carefully turned her head. Blinked as he sat down next to her. His face was grim, but he looked fine. She closed her eyes again, started to turn her head away once more.
"Oh, no. Not this time." His fingers were gentle on her chin as he guided her back to face him, but were nonetheless persistent. "Lisswyn, open your eyes. I know you're awake."
She obeyed, blinked at him. "It hurts my head to constantly see two of everything." She was whining, and was appalled by it. Or would be if she could bring herself to care.
"I know. And I'm sorry for that. But we need to discuss some things, and it's easier if I know you're awake."
She nodded, exhausted by the effort. The fact that she wasn't always asleep when she pretended to be didn't mean that she wasn't sleeping a lot.
"You can go back to sleep in a few moments."
It was one thing for the King of Gondor to know what she was thinking; when had the King of the Mark become so adept at it?
She nodded again.
"Aragorn believes you'll be able to sit up for a short period tomorrow morning; we're going to honor Maegwen then."
She flinched before she could prevent it, quickly shut her mind on that image. If the grief escaped, it would be unbearable. "I will not be there."
He frowned. "What? That's the point of waiting until tomorrow – so you can be."
"It is not fitting that the one who caused her death attend her funeral." She looked away, unable to face him. But once again, his hand turned her back to him. And this time, it was less gentle.
"If you want to wallow in selfishness and self-pity, that's fine. But you will attend the service," he snapped. "For what it's worth to you – and at the moment, that does not seem to be much – you are not the only one feeling responsible for Maegwen's death. There are several trying to bear that burden, and one of them is a young boy."
She wanted to look away from his anger, but his hand was still gripping her chin. He continued, his words still sharp. This time there was no question that he was angry with her. "A young boy you promised to watch out for. Or do they mean as little to you as the promise you made their mother?"
It was a blow, and her eyes closed in spite of herself as she flinched again. "It is not his fault."
"He disagrees with you. He slaughtered the orc who killed her, but it was too late. And he will forever punish himself for that, for not being a few moments quicker."
"It is not his fault. He is just a boy." She whispered the words, felt her heart aching. Resentment pricked at her. How dare he remind her of the boys' pain, and make her bear their grief as well as her own?
"He needs you to tell him that. He needs you. They both do."
He was wrong about that. How could they need her, when she was responsible for their mother's death? But there was obviously no point in saying so. He would just keep battering at her, and at the moment, she was too weak to resist.
"Very well." It didn't really matter. She could attend the service while keeping the grief at bay. She had to.
He released her chin, sat back. "Brynwyn needs you as well." His voice was softer.
She stared at him, very nearly focused. "Brynwyn? Why?" It came out a whisper, as fear slid through the wall she was trying to keep up.
"She did not tell you goodbye before they left for the top of the cliffs. She has grown increasingly convinced that you're going to die without her being able to tell you she's sorry."
A great weariness settled on Lisswyn. Would there never be an end to the people who needed her? Who needed her to be strong? And this time, there would be no one to help her bear those burdens. She closed her eyes, once more pushed away the despair. Apparently, hiding from those responsibilities was not going to be a luxury she would be allowed, not even for a few more hours.
"If you will send for her, I will reassure her." She heard the defeat in her voice.
"Lisswyn…" He hesitated, and then said, "I will bring her to you. But for now, get some rest."
Absently, she wondered what he had started to say, but was then distracted when she felt his lips brush her forehead. Startled, she opened her eyes, watched as he stood to leave.
She opened her mouth to ask him about it, decided not to. She must have imagined it. Surely he was too angry with her to have touched her in such a manner.
Eomer walked out to the outer cave, weary. Glad that it was empty for the moment, he leaned against the wall, rubbed his hand over his face. He had been deliberately cruel. Had hurt her, intentionally. It had seemed necessary to shock her, but his heart ached in response. Had he been too harsh? There had been a spark of temper in her eyes at one point, the first one he remembered seeing. He'd been encouraged by it, but didn't know if it was going to be enough.
With everything in him, he wanted to comfort her, but she would not allow any of them to do so. Aragorn believed she was stifling her grief, was convinced that if she didn't allow it out, it would eventually take her life. The other man had offered only a thin hope that the funeral service might give her an opening to release the sorrow.
As a boy, he'd watched his mother fade from life after his father had been killed by orcs. The weaker she'd become, the harder he had tried to lessen her burdens – to care for Eowyn, to not trouble her with his own needs. She'd died anyway, and for several years after the fact, he'd struggled, questioned what else he could have done. Should have done.
It was only after he'd reached adulthood that he had started to wonder if his desperate attempt to make things easier for her had been part of the problem. Perhaps someone should have confronted her with the reality that her children still needed her.
He would not make the same mistake with Lisswyn. If she would not fight to live, he would fight for her.
He only hoped Aragorn was right about the funeral providing her a chance to let the grief out; he could also only hope that eventually she'd be able to forgive him the harsh words he had just said to her. It seemed possible that he might have just saved her life, and destroyed any chance he had of earning her love.
"Call her name."
Lisswyn woke to hear the King's voice. She reluctantly opened her eyes, saw Eomer-King standing behind Brynwyn, nudging her toward where Lisswyn was lying.
The little girl saw Lisswyn's eyes open and her own eyes brightened. "Lisswyn!" She ran the last few feet and dropped next down next to her.
The King quietly left the cave, which didn't surprise Lisswyn. After what he'd said to her earlier, she doubted he wanted to be around her.
She turned her gaze to Brynwyn. "Brynwyn." She wanted to touch her, but her hand trembled when she reached out and instead of managing to touch the little girl's cheek, she settled for resting it on her sister's lap. She was still so weak.
For a moment, they were silent, staring at each other. Then Brynwyn looked down. "I'm sorry I was mean to you." A tear slipped down her face.
Lisswyn squeezed her hand. "I understood. I was not angry with you."
Brynwyn looked up. "I did not know how to say goodbye. I did not want to."
Lisswyn swallowed against her own tears. Once they started to fall, they would never stop. "I know. But I understood."
Brynwyn rubbed Lisswyn's hand, nodded.
Again silence fell, and Lisswyn began to relax. That had not gone too badly.
"Maegwen is dead."
Brynwyn stated the words baldly, and Lisswyn stiffened. Oh, no. No. She could not discuss Maegwen. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. They could not ask her to. She would never be able to manage the pain if she had to comfort Brynwyn.
But of course she would have to. Who else?
Why hadn't she seen this coming?
"I know." She finally managed to whisper the words, squeezed Brynwyn's hand again.
"King Eomer says she was very brave."
Lisswyn entwined her fingers with her sister's, but turned her head away, closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and forced the pain away. It would not, could not be allowed out.
Then she looked back, and her voice was steady when she spoke. "He is correct."
"He says you were brave, too."
Her heart wanted to jump at that, but Lisswyn suppressed it. The little girl had surely misunderstood him. She changed the subject. "How are the boys?"
Brynwyn thought about the question for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "Eoden is angry, Andric is sad. Eoden thinks he should have been able to save her. But the King says it is not Eoden's fault. He says if Eoden must blame someone, he should blame him." She frowned, plainly puzzled by that. "The King of Gondor says it was the orc's fault."
For just a second, Lisswyn nearly smiled at the pragmatic statement. Then the ache settled again. Did none of them understand that she was the one to blame? She had been the one to suggest that some of them stay. If they had all gone to the top of the cliffs, they would all have lived. The boys would not now be orphans. Again, she bitterly wished that justice had been served. That if only one was to die, that it had been herself.
Lost in her thoughts, she nearly missed what Brynwyn said next.
"…but the boys are spending a lot of time with the King. They are helping him with Firefoot."
Getting in the way, more than likely, but it was a kind thing for him to do. Keeping them busy was important, and if a horse was involved, all the better.
"And we are gathering rocks."
Rocks? Lisswyn looked up, confused, but Brynwyn was pulling away, standing up. "The King said I should not stay long. You must sleep, so you can get well." She paused. "I am glad you are going to be alright." She turned to leave, and then added, "I am going to go help more with the rocks."
With that, she was gone, leaving Lisswyn to puzzle over her comment. Rocks?
The next time she awoke, the cave had the dark stillness that indicated night. Only one candle was burning, and she could hear the soft breathing of those sleeping around her.
With effort, she lifted her head, looked around and frowned in confusion. The room seemed to be full of people. Eoden, Andric and Brynwyn were all sleeping near her, rather than the rooms they normally slept in, and a larger figure rolled up in a cloak against the far wall could only be Eomer-King, and that puzzled her even more. Surely there were more comfortable places for him to sleep? What were his men thinking?
And then she noticed the King of Gondor sitting near her, his head resting on his chest as if he were asleep. Apparently she was still judged as ill enough to need a caretaker, even if he did feel he could doze off.
She lowered her head again, was about to close her eyes when suddenly King Elessar was leaning over her.
"How are you?" he asked, his voice soft.
"Fine."
He raised an eyebrow. "How are you?"
She felt color come into her cheeks at the reminder that he could not be fooled. "My head still aches, but not as badly." She looked around, then back at him. "And my vision seems to be improving."
"What of your arm?"
Not only not easy to fool, but also quite thorough. "It's sore. But I am still so very weak."
He nodded at that. "You bled for a long time."
"How will I get to where ..." She could not say the name. "…to where the funeral is?"
He looked puzzled. "It is just in there." He nodded his head toward the back of the cave. "One of us will help you. Why?"
She frowned. They were interring Maegwen in the caves? She looked at him. "I do not understand. She is being left in the caves?"
"She is in the smaller room in the back, buried in rocks. After the funeral, the room will be sealed as well." His voice gentled. "The soil here is very dry and sandy…it is the best way to protect her from animals."
She nodded. "But for the boys to have to live with that…" she murmured. Had there really been no other way?
He looked puzzled again. "The boys will not be here."
She looked at him blankly. "Where will they be?"
"At Edoras."
She did not understand at first. Edoras? How and why would they be there? And then comprehension came as a sharp blow, one she had not been expecting. The King had called her selfish; he must have decided she was truly unfit to care for the boys. But to take them from her without even telling her… She closed her eyes, willed away the desperate sense she had failed Maegwen twice over. Then a new fear slid through her. She looked back at King Elessar. "What of Brynwyn?" she whispered. Would Eomer-King take her sister, too?
The King of Gondor stared at her for a long moment, then understanding settled on his face. "She is going to Edoras as well." As Lisswyn turned her head from him, unwilling to let him see her see the devastation his answer caused, he turned her face back to him.
"Lisswyn, forgive me for upsetting you. I did not realize you did not know…you are all to go to Edoras."
Edoras? How could they go to Edoras? Where would they live? What would they do there?
He must have seen the questions. "You have done well to survive here. But you cannot stay. The orcs have been routed, but may return – there is much we do not yet understand about their movements. And the gardens you were counting on to feed you during the winter were destroyed when the village was burned."
She nodded, tried to feel grateful. She'd been worried about surviving the winter even before the orc attack. At least in Edoras she would not worry about their freezing to death. But it still did not answer the question of how she would support herself and three children there.
"Many families were wiped out during the war." His voice was still soft. "There are cots standing empty and vacant at Edoras."
Ah. That must be the plan, then. She closed her eyes, wondered again where food would come from. But perhaps one of those empty buildings held a wheel and loom. Wouldn't it be wonderful if she could spin and weave again?
But the thought of moving so far away on her own was overwhelming. And Maegwen would not be with her.
She closed her eyes, willed the darkness of sleep to claim her before the grief could.
Morning came, and Lisswyn reluctantly opened her eyes. For the moment, she appeared to be alone, although she could hear voices in the other caves. Preparing for the funeral, no doubt. Or to leave. She frowned, wondered when the kings planned to leave for Edoras, and how they planned to make the journey. It would be a very long, very slow journey with the children. And with Liffild due to deliver her babe any day… She still marveled that the woman had made it to the top of the cliffs and back down without going into labor.
Regardless, it was past time for her to be up. The King had been right to call her on her selfishness, her obligation to the children. She could not bring Maegwen back, could not trade places with her. However, she could honor the promise she had made. And that would begin immediately. She would find the strength to be what the boys needed her to be. What Brynwyn needed her to be.
It started by getting up. By honoring Maegwen at the farewell service, by beating back her own grief so she could support the boys.
She took a breath, surveyed her injuries. Not much different from what she'd reported to the King of Gondor earlier. Her arm and head throbbed, but neither was unmanageable.
She braced herself on her right arm and forced herself into a sitting position. The room spun around her, and she stifled a whimper of pain as her head protested the movement. She could not do the things she needed to do if she could not sit up.
She slowly opened her eyes. The room was still spinning, but the pain was receding again. That was good. She looked around, pondered standing. Or trying to.
"Lisswyn!" Hilde's voice broke into her thoughts. "What are you doing?"
She looked in the direction of the voice, saw the older woman coming toward her with two mugs.
"Getting up."
Hilde sat down next to her. "You must not. King Elessar says you must take things slowly."
Yes, well, King Elessar had not been reminded in a rather painful manner that there were children depending on him. Children she could not care for from a prone position on the floor.
"I have brought you some soup. And tea! The riders had some with them."
She handed one of the mugs to Lisswyn, who took it, slowly sipped. Chicken soup again. But this time, she was actually getting some chicken. She ruthlessly pushed thoughts of Maegwen away, forced her arm to steady, sipped again.
"We are to leave tomorrow morn for Edoras."
Startled, Lisswyn looked at the older woman. So soon? She tried again to picture standing, let alone walking all the way to Edoras. The image wouldn't form.
"Hilde, how will the children make it that far? And Liffild?" And me?
"Carts. The riders have found them." She frowned. "I'm not sure where. Perhaps from villages not destroyed by orcs. I gather the riders have been visiting all the villages to see which ones have been attacked, and what their needs are." She looked up. "That is what the King was doing when he was attacked by the orcs."
It occurred to Lisswyn that she had never asked him that. She also realized with what bordered on amusement that "the King" was always Eomer-King, their King, the King of the Mark, while King Elessar was always fully identified by name. Had to keep them straight somehow, she supposed.
Hilde was still talking. "…three of them, which the King believes will be enough to carry the children who are too young to walk, Liffild, our belongings, and you."
Splendid. She was going to be hauled to Edoras in a cart. Her hand trembling from just the effort of holding the mug, she put it down, while admitting to herself that the thought of not having to walk so far relieved her even as it shamed her. But she would make sure she was walking at least short distances by the time they got to the city.
She started to reach for the tea, dropped her hand instead, stared at it. She was just so tired. She fought a battle with the exhaustion, reached again for the mug. She knew Hilde was watching every grimace, and it made her uncomfortable.
"How long until the funeral?"
"Shortly."
Perhaps it would not be considered too weak of her if she took a nap afterwards. She sighed.
A/N:
Phia...good questions. (grin) Watch and see. ;)
And for all of you, once again, I can only say thanks, and that I hope you continue to enjoy it. (I started to list names but am afraid of missing someone -- trust me, I read them all and am very encouraged. You're wonderful.)