UNTOLD TALES OF THE MARK – THE BANISHMENT OF ÉOMER
Author's Note:
Heartfelt "Thank you's" go to Rocheryn, CarawynO, Katia0203, Noruinivel, AmandaBaker852… and "Guest"! If you are the same who wrote the lengthy review for "Red Sun", please know that I was beside myself with joy over it, and I wish I could respond (which is not possible unless you sign in)! Now please buckle up, the ride continues…
Chapter 15: A Desperate Attempt
EDORAS
The sun's tarnished face disappeared behind the White Mountains and plunged the land into twilight as another frustrating day drew to an end; a day of having had to helplessly watch how everything around her was falling to pieces. It was the third day Éowyn had been forced to remain in her chambers, and while she appreciated their luxury over the other possibility Gríma had threatened, the very thought of the audacity to keep her imprisoned within their walls was enough to let the blood churn through her veins whenever it surfaced.
Standing by the window with her gaze resting on the plains like so many times before within these past days, Éowyn felt that she was fast approaching the point where she would either have to storm out of her chambers and kill whoever dared to block her way, or explode. Fully recovered and the fever but a distant memory, the inactivity to which she had been condemned was quickly turning into torture. How could she sit around doing nothing while Éomer suffered somewhere perhaps close by at the hands of their arch enemy's henchmen? How was she supposed to bear this burden with no one to confide in, and with no one to share the load or to encourage her? Although she kept telling herself that the Worm's proud statement about having captured her brother was only another one of Gríma's devious mind games, there was no way to know for sure, and the uncertainty was driving her mad.
And what about their uncle, how was he faring? Since Gríma's power over their people was closely related to his hold over the King, it was Éowyn's conviction that the evil counsellor would do everything in his power to keep Théoden alive for as long as possible. And yet, while she suspected that the effort would be vain and the result depressing, she desperately longed to see her surrogate father with her own eyes and – once again - attempt to change his mind. Perhaps, if she was lucky and caught him in one of his rare lucid moments, she could still convince him of the horrible things that were being done in the Mark in his name these days. He seemed to have been shocked by what she had told him during their breakfast a couple of days earlier. Would he remember that after the Worm had drugged him so heavily for the proclamation of the verdict? And if so… what could they do while Gríma held his life in his hands with the use of his accursed potion? They had seen the deadly effects of withdrawal.
As she turned toward the door, Éowyn's expression darkened. There were so many unknowns, so many things over which she had no influence, but she had to keep trying. She had heard that several people had been whipped during those first few days since Éomer's banishment, and while it was a comforting thought that their people still did what they could to resist, the message that Éothain, too, had been punished harshly, had almost undone her. Giving up was not an option. And to do nothing would mean to give up, and she was not yet ready to admit defeat. All day long, she had repeatedly opened her door to keep the changing guards in front of her chambers busy with errands, only waiting for the moment when that man would be someone of the old ranks of the Royal Guard and not one of Wormtongue's thinly disguised brutes. So she tensed as she depressed the handle yet again, and this time her heart jumped into her throat as she recognised the man.
"Déor! Béma be blessed, I was hoping to find you here!" A quick glance established that they were alone, but she lowered her voice nonetheless. These days, one could never be too cautious. The elderly guard looked at her warily, obviously unhappy over being pulled into affairs that could cause him trouble.
"Lady Éowyn, what can I do for you?"
"Who of your captains is currently on duty?"
"That would be Captain Gamling, my Lady." Déor seemed relieved that her question was harmless and did not ask for him to engage into any forbidden activities. "I can have someone look for him, if you want to speak with him."
Éowyn nodded, and granted the man a smile.
"That would be very kind, Déor. I would appreciate it."
He gave her a curt nod.
"Then I will see it done. In the meantime, I would like to say that we are all glad to see you recovered. Your illness cast a great shadow upon this house, and seeing your health restored is at least one great worry off people's minds... my Lady."
A surprised and touched smile spread over Éowyn's face.
"I thank you for your concern, Déor. It is a comforting thought that there are still people in these halls who care for others, even if most of them seem too afraid to show it these days. Now, if you can please get Gamling for me? I'd be most grateful." She paused and gazed intently into the darkness on the other side of the hall. "You would not happen to know where the Counsellor is?"
"I understand that he left Meduseld a while ago to go into the city. To my knowledge, he has not returned yet."
The discomfort was back in the older man's eyes as if he suspected that the King's niece would ask for something he was not allowed to grant, but to his relief, Éomund's daughter only nodded.
"Thank you, Déor. Now please, if you could get Captain Gamling for me, I would be thankful."
She closed the door behind her again.
OOO
CENTRAL MARK
With long powerful swipes Elfhelm pulled the straw over Éon's steaming hide, his body warming with the movement after another long day of exposure to the elements. As much as he usually enjoyed riding and the freedom of the wide open plains in contrast to the city's haunting feeling of despair, the Captain of Aldburg felt that the long leagues he and his horse had travelled in the past weeks were finally beginning to take their toll on them both. The problem was that he would not be done once they reached Edoras tomorrow; he would still have to get back to Aldburg, and who knew what would await him there upon his return. If Éomer had shown up there in the meantime and their call to rebellion spread through the Riddermark, there would be no rest for him in the foreseeable future. And yet he could live with these prospects, because rest meant inactivity, and each hour of inactivity meant orcs roaming the Mark unchallenged, burning their land and killing their people, a thought Elfhelm found altogether intolerable.
He pushed the idea away, not wanting to occupy himself with it any longer while there was still much to be done, more immediate problems to be seen to before he could concern himself with the questions it posed; the most urgent one being the decision of how they would proceed once they reached Edoras. Behind him, rusty hinges creaked as the stable door was opened from outside, and when heavy steps approached him, Elfhelm turned his head to acknowledge Céorl's presence.
"You look tired," his brother-in-arms said after a scrutinising glance. "I really wish there had been a different way to deal with this than dragging you over the plains again when you had only just returned from battle."
"But as we both know, there isn't one, and as long as it concerns crossing the Worm's plans, I will go wherever I'm needed, whenever I'm needed, even if I had to crawl on hands and knees to get there."
With a dry laugh, Céorl stepped up to him, and rested his hands on the stall door.
"I came to tell you that the farmer's wife fixed us an evening meal in the main house. But perhaps we should first discuss what to do tomorrow, and I would prefer to do that here. It is not that I don't trust them, but one can never be too careful these days."
He extended a hand and clapped Éon's neck, the gesture resulting in an exasperated huff from the neighbouring stall. Céorl looked at his steed with raised eyebrows.
"I do not believe my ears, Lancer! Do you honestly feel that I didn't give you enough attention today? After rubbing you dry, checking your legs and hooves and feeding you, you will still not allow me to touch another horse? You are one envious beast, I'll give you that!"
Demonstrating that he cared little for his steed's protest, the warrior patted the bay stallion again, and again, his grey mount huffed indignantly before it turned away to punish its master by ignoring him. The subject of their little quarrel appeared untouched by the tension and calmly continued to chew on his oats, enjoying the attention of the two men very much. Shrugging as he exchanged an eloquent look with the other warrior, Elfhelm finally dropped the straw and rubbed his hands against his breeches as he left the stall with a last pat on Éon's powerful hindquarters.
"Knowing you, I suspect that you already have a plan?"
Céorl nodded.
"I don't think we should enter Edoras together. They expect me back, but if you and your riders accompany me, it will only alert that snake that something is brewing. If we want to reach something, we need to catch him unawares."
"And what do you suggest?" Elfhelm realised that he reeked heavily of horse and sweat, and he would have liked to wash before the meal, but if it was already waiting for them, it would take too long. After the long day on horseback and freezing in the stiff breeze, he very much longed for a hot meal… and he was ravenous. Oh well. It was not as if the farmers would be shocked by the odour. He sighed.
Céorl's gaze rested knowingly on Elfhelm as he explained his plan.
"My men and I will ride ahead, and I will speak with Éothain as soon as I see him to make the necessary arrangements. You will follow us three hours after moonrise, once the lights of the city have been extinguished. Then either Éothain or I will personally open the gates to let you in; we will give you a signal once the air is clear. If we want to find out what is really going on in the city, I believe we have the best chance at night, before word of our arrival reaches our adversary and he can send out his spies. I will see to it that we can speak undisturbed. Once we have been filled in, we can then decide upon the necessary steps."
With a deep intake of breath, Elfhelm stared through him for a long moment of silence. When he woke from his reverie, his brow was furrowed.
"I suppose that it is indeed the smartest approach, but I do not like it. It makes us look like thieves."
Céorl shrugged.
"Yes. But these days, it would seem that righteous men have to move this way, because the crooked ones have seized control. It cannot be helped. It is in stealth where our greatest chance lies."
"True." Elfhelm still despised the image in front of his inner eye, but he saw the sense in the other man's words. "And what a shame that is. But I will regard it as just another insult we will make the Worm pay for. I agree with your plan. My men and I will approach the city after nightfall and wait by the rocks near the Snowbourn until you give us the signal." His hand landed heavily on Céorl's shoulder before he turned to go. "And now I am hungry. Come, let us go and see what these good people cooked for us. I feel like I could eat an entire pig all by myself."
OOO
EDORAS
Rationally, Éowyn knew that not much time had passed before she heard the expected rap on her door, and yet the span had seemed like an eternity. Each moment Gríma could return from whatever twisted things he had arranged for in the city and spoil her perfect opportunity to see her uncle after these long days of isolation. Oh, if she could only make him see and understand what the snake by his side was doing to his kingdom under the guise of his most loyal servant!
"Come in!" She almost jumped to her feet when the door opened and the older, red-haired warrior looked in. "Captain Gamling. Please, do step in."
"I must apologise, Lady Éowyn," the Chief of the Royal Guard said, and when he came closer, the deepened lines on his already weathered face told of the strain that had worn on him for the past dark weeks. Carefully, he closed the door behind him before he turned back. He looked tense, not knowing what to expect.
"I meant to see you sooner, but with all the strange and disquieting things going on in Meduseld and the city, I was kept more than busy… and I preferred to visit you when the Counsellor would not know about it and we would not have to fear that he would have his ear literally on the door. That man is not easily tricked, and he seldom leaves the Hall."
"But he is gone now, isn't he?" Éowyn said, and saw him nod.
"Aye, he is. But I dare not say for how long, so it would be best if you could tell me straight away what I can do for you, my Lady."
She met his gaze openly.
"I want to see my uncle, Captain. Do you think that would be possible?"
She could tell that he was not happy about her request... or rather, that he was torn. For a long while, they only stared at each other, and Éowyn could see the battle of conflicting emotions on the guard's lined face. Then he shook his head, and her heart sank... and anger rose, but before she could voice it, he opened his mouth.
"Béma, I cannot believe that it has come to this! That you should have to ask my permission to visit a member of your family! This is not right!"
Éowyn's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Quickly she swallowed the scathing reply that had lain on the tip of her tongue. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper... and laid a hand upon the older man's arm.
"It is your decision, Captain. Surely, the Counsellor cannot forbid me to see the King. Not when I have officially asked you... and I will go even further and ask you to accompany me into my uncle's chambers. That way, Gríma will not be able to accuse me of any secret doings. It would be cruel to deny me a visit when I cannot be certain for how much longer Théoden-King will be able to recognise me."
She was very aware of the pressure she had just loaded upon the Captain's back, but it could not be helped if she wanted to get anywhere.
As expected, Gamling looked even unhappier.
"And I am certain that it would greatly improve the King's health if you were allowed to visit him. He asked for you these past days. Repeatedly. And he was very sad when I had to tell him that you couldn't come... which was the truth, as we obviously did not want for him to fall ill with what had confined you to your chambers. But you look well again, so I cannot see a reason not to allow it."
Éowyn barely dared to breathe.
"Right now?"
Before her very eyes, the Captain of the Royal Guard straightened suddenly, and looked her in the eye.
"Aye, my Lady. If that is what you want, I will walk with you to the King's chambers... now."
It cost Éowyn all of her iron self-control to not make those two last steps and embrace the old warrior.
"Oh Gamling... thank you! Thank you! You do not know what that means to me!"
A paternal smile wandered quickly over the guard's face.
"Trust me, my Lady, I do know. You almost tore yourself in two when Théoden-King's life was on the line only a few days ago. I know that – despite everything that happened – you still feel that bond of bloodkin... as I feel the bonds of friendship, and thankfulness, after those many years I have been lucky enough to be in his service. And I do hope that you will forgive me for the choices I have made. They were the hardest choices I have been faced with all my life, if that is any consolation to you. What they did to your brother was horrible, and the way the Counsellor is threatening our people to obey his orders.. I, too, would be endlessly relieved if we were finally free from Gríma son of Galmod... but if the price is the life of our King, it is too high for me."
Éowyn inhaled deeply, but remained silent.
'One of these days, you may have to choose,' she thought, but could not bring herself to voicing her concern. It would only complicate things, and right now, she had to make every moment of her adversary's absence count.
For a moment, they communicated only silently, and Éowyn could see that the old man understood. Finally, he pulled himself together and opened the door, inviting her with a gesture to step through them.
"Come, my Lady. Let us waste no more time. The King is already in his chambers, but I doubt that he is asleep yet."
She hesitated.
"You know what I will try to do if he is lucid," she said honestly. He nodded slowly.
"Aye… I can imagine. And like I said, it is not as if I do not want that man gone, myself." He squared his shoulders. "Come. My orders did not say that you were forbidden to see your uncle. And I am still a captain of the Royal Guard. This title must be good for something!"
He turned to Déor, who was following their exchange with an expression of insecurity.
"Déor, stay here. If the Counsellor returns, you will say nothing unless he asks you. If he does, which I don't think he will, you will tell him the truth, which is that the Lady Éowyn asked me to take her to the King to see how he was faring, and that I personally took her there. I don't see how he could object to this. But you will only tell him if he asks. If he does not, we will not volunteer it. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain." Déor nodded, visibly relieved that his superior was taking full responsibility. "Certainly. I can do that."
"Good." Gamling motioned for Éowyn to follow him, and she slipped out, excited to leave her chambers after the days of imprisonment. Once glance confirmed to her that it was all but deserted. Which was good in this case. Quickly they crossed the twilit hall, and upon a curt nod at the door guard, disappeared into the King's chambers.
Théoden was already lying in his bed but still awake, as Gamling had rightly suspected. It took little effort to convince his manservant of the great favour he would be doing the King if he allowed their reunion even at this late hour, and so Baldor quietly stepped aside and closed the door to grant Théoden-King and his niece a moment of privacy. Looking at Gamling, who had likewise chosen to remain outside, he found his own contentment mirrored in the guard's face. This was the right thing to do. Perhaps these brief moments of closeness with a beloved family member would improve the ailing King's condition.
Suddenly feeling young and small again, Éowyn hesitantly crossed the room that was only lit by the flickering flames in the fireplace, and her insides twisted into a tight knot. The place reeked of illness and despair, and so the first thing she did was open the window to allow fresh air in before she turned to kneel on the bear-pelt before her uncle's bed. Her heartbeat accelerated when she realised that he was looking at her rather than through her, appearing more lucid than he had when she had last seen him. But oh, he was so deathly pale, and the lines on his face were deep like the furrows on a newly set field. Yet what was that expression on his face, for it was not blank as she had seen it for these past weeks and months. Was that a hint of a smile? Taking his hand into hers, Éowyn summoned her courage and began.
"Uncle? Uncle, can you hear me? It is I, Éowyn. Do you remember me?"
He looked at her, and behind the veil that covered the faded blue eyes, there seemed to be just the smallest spark of recognition. Not sure whether it was just an illusion, Éowyn nearly jumped when the pressure of her grip was suddenly returned.
"Uncle?"
Théoden's mouth worked, as if he had trouble remembering how to form words.
"Éowyn?" It was the softest, frailest voice she had ever heard come from this man, so delicate that the merest movement of air would suffice to carry the sound away, but the effect it had on her was overwhelming. From out of nowhere, Éowyn's eyes suddenly filled with tears of joy, and she squeezed his hand in enthusiastic affirmation.
"Yes! Yes, Uncle, it is I. Béma be blessed!" The tears spilled over, and she wiped them away with an unconscious gesture, a surge of happiness racing through her she had not felt in a long time. "How do you feel?" He looked at her as if contemplating her question, and his brow furrowed in confusion.
"I… I do not know. Am I dreaming this? … Is Théodred here, too? I have not seen him lately."
The words were a bucket of cold water into her face, and the smile vanished from Éowyn's lips as if it had never been there. 'Your son died, and you do not even know about it?' she thought with sudden bitterness, yet knew better than to voice her emotions. But the question nonetheless troubled her greatly. How much of the past did Théoden know? He seemed like a man who had just woken from a deep sleep, completely unaware of what had happened in the meantime. How on earth was she supposed to tell him that his son was dead when he was only beginning to wake from the drought's effects? How to tell him what he had done to Éomer?
"He is not here," she evaded, lowering her gaze to look at their intertwined hands. Gods, how to begin? If she told him of Théodred's death and Éomer's banishment and his role in it, the damage it could do could not be estimated. And yet somehow, she had to bring it to his attention that all was not well in his kingdom. If only she had more time. "What is the last thing you remember?" she finally asked, deciding to approach the difficult subject from a different side. Théoden looked through her, and for a moment, she feared that she had lost his attention.
"Darkness," the ill man finally said in a pensive, gloomy voice."As if I was caught in a dream I could not wake from. You were there and Éomer, and Gríma, too… and I also remember seeing Gamling and Háma…" His attention found back to her. "I called, but you would not hear me. You were looking at me, but-" the furrows on his brow deepened "—you almost seemed angry with me. I know not why. Was it only a dream, Éowyn, or did I do something horribly wrong?" An unnamed dread coloured his voice as if he feared to hear what he had done.
Éowyn felt terrible, but she knew that she had no other choice. If she wanted to wake him from the stupor that the Worm had induced, her uncle had to know the whole ugly truth. Perhaps, if she found the right words, he would be so dismayed that he would send the snake away upon his return to the hall. Perhaps, they would find the potion in his chambers and could begin to break down its ingredients. Perhaps, everything could find a good end even tonight!
After an additional moment of collecting herself, she finally dared to look up – and saw him flinch in reaction to her gaze. Did he already know what she was about to say? Did he somehow remember the scene of the banishment, but taken it for a dream?
"It was not you," she began hesitantly. "I know that. You are ill, and have been ill for a long time, but you must know that someone very close to you has been abusing your trust to bring great damage to the Mark for a long time. He is, in fact, the one responsible for your sickness. You must send him away, Uncle, for he is an evil man." Her heart pounding against her ribs, she waited anxiously for his reaction, yet before Théoden could respond, a sudden rap on the door interrupted their moment of privacy.
'No! No, it cannot be!'
The door opened, and it was neither Gamling nor Baldor who looked inside; but the very subject of her words, and in his pale grey eyes Éowyn saw the understanding of what he had just caught her at. How had that snake succeeded in sneaking up on them so quickly that there had not even been time for a warning?
"My Lord, my Lady… it is wonderful to see the two of you recovered. What a happy moment for us all this is." His gaze found Éowyn, and she lifted her chin in defiance, daring him to throw her out. "Yet it has only been three days ago that you were in the throes of a great fever, Lady Éowyn, and while I have to admit that you look much better, I would prefer to wait with a longer reunion until we can be assured that the sickness has indeed passed. As you know, your uncle's health is a frail thing."
Oh, the mud-blood infuriated her! Was Gríma truly suggesting now that she was the reason for the King's sickness?
"I have felt well again since yesterday, thank you, Counsellor," she replied coolly, wanting to say more, but Théoden interrupted her. The joy with which he greeted the false snake made her bodily sick.
"Gríma! I am feeling a lot better today. Did you give me a different medicine?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," the son of Galmod said as he slowly stepped into the room, but while he spoke with the King, his gaze remained on Éowyn as he took a small phial with a clear liquid out of his pocket. She understood the unspoken threat.
'One word, and your brother will suffer for it.'
"I grew impatient, because your health had declined so greatly over the past weeks despite my efforts, and I thought I should attempt something different this morning. I am most relieved to see that it worked so well." He opened the stopper and poured a few drops of the liquid into the carafe on the King's nightstand.
Éowyn clenched her jaw, biting down heavily on her tongue. No, no, it could not be! By drinking this, her uncle would no doubt be reduced again to the will-less puppet he had been for too long, the unsuspecting pawn of the most cunning enemy the Mark had ever seen. Holding Théoden's hand tightly, she watched how Gríma poured some of the steaming contents of the carafe into a cup for her uncle to drink. She had to intervene! She opened her mouth – and shut it again upon another knowing glance the Counsellor gave her as he passed the cup to the sick man.
"Here, my Lord, take this as a good-night draught. It will help you sleep."
"What would I do if I didn't have you, Gríma," Théoden said with a thankful smile on his face. He emptied the cup, and Éowyn had to force herself to look away. She could not bear to see her uncle's unsuspecting gratitude, or the expression of victory on the Worm's face.
Shivering with suppressed rage, she pressed the old man's hand in a gesture of farewell, and – after planting a gentle kiss on his cheek – rose to her feet again, harbouring no doubts that by next morning, the man she loved as her surrogate father would be gone again, replaced by the hollow shell that did the Mark so much damage.
"I fear that it is time for me to leave, Uncle. You need to rest, and so do I. I will be back tomorrow, but for now, I bid you a good night."
She did not look back as she left the room with hasty steps, wishing to reach the safety of her chambers before she came undone. She had been so close…
Behind the door, Gamling and Baldor waited for her, and though she clearly saw the dismay on both men's faces, she felt not ready to address them. Quietly, Gamling accompanied her to her rooms, where at last he attempted to explain.
"He was suddenly there, as if he had hidden in the shadows. I swear, if I had seen him, I would of course-"
Éowyn raised her hand, not wanting to hear it.
"I do not blame you, Captain. It is thist man." Without warning, her gaze turned to steel. "We will have to do something about him. It cannot go on like this." And with these words, she disappeared into her chambers for the night.