Aedre watched Éomer leave her, his long strides taking him quickly from the dark passageway and her line of sight. She did not move for what seemed an age, her thoughts only fully clicking into motion as she became aware of her loud, frightened breaths that made her breast heave unnaturally. She closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm, willing the panic to subside. She gulped in a few large breaths and slowly began to regain control over her body. She pushed herself from the wall, checking her legs were steady and with slow, uncertain steps she began to walk down the corridor, trying to curb the urge that tugged sickeningly in her stomach, telling her to break into a run.
Finally she reached her own room and pushed the door closed behind her, the small space giving her the comfort she longed for within this moment. She let her shocked body guide her to the bed where she dutifully obeyed her needs and lay down, letting her head fall comfortably onto the pillow and sink into the soft coolness it offered. Aedre wrapped her arms about herself and tried to think, her mind could make no sense of what had just happened, he was going to hurt her, punish her, this much she knew to be true… But why had it not felt the same as before, why had he stopped… It was true she had not felt it to be a pleasurable experience, but his hands, his mouth… had they not been gentle and warm, not rough and callous, groping and pinching without care and with one purpose? Though she almost loathed to admit it, it had not been the same…
Aedre rolled onto her side, feeling as if her thoughts were swimming within her mind and she could make sense of nothing, she could find no reasoning or answers. She clutched at the pillow as if by this action she could clutch and find the answer she sought from thin air but nothing came to her that made sense, this was not the way things had been, this was not how things were meant to be… this was too confusing. She closed her eyes and replayed the event in her mind, his face had been furrowed in anger, his words seemingly unkind, heated, his actions violent but his mouth upon hers had been soft, warm and strange, his hands not touching just for himself, for his own pleasure but for her benefit… Her eyes flew open, her inner thoughts squirming unpleasantly at the images.
She wiped absently at her cheeks only just becoming aware that she was crying. She brushed angrily at her tears but she could not stop them.
---
The next morning Aedre awoke to the first rays of sunlight. She blinked, trying to dispel the slight throb in her head caused by her tears the night before. She rose and splashed her face with cool water, soothing her sore eyes. She heard the latch upon her door lift and whirled to face the person who entered, her heart beating hard within her chest.
Sunniva's kindly face came into view and Aedre felt her body relax, her mind whirling with just what she had been so fearful of, the thought he would venture down here after her was a foolish fear…
"Oh my girl!" Sunniva explained. "You look as if you've seen a spirit." She rushed to Aedre's side, her hand coming to tenderly rest upon her brow. "Are you sick?"
Aedre shook her head and clasped the older woman's hand in her own, stopping her fussing.
"Maybe some food will bring you around" Sunniva announced. "Last night was a long night, that I admit, even I had trouble getting from my bed this morn." She gave a sweet chuckle. "I was so run off my feet that I didn't even see you Aedre girl, it wasn't as bad as you expected I'll guess." She winked at Aedre and Aedre tried to smile.
The kitchens were only barely just coming to life, the feast had led to too much drink not only for the warriors and other guests of honor but for the servants as well and many were still asleep, soon to be abruptly awakened by their peers, a few of the kitchen girls stood around lazily preparing food in-between yawns and disapproving mumbles of being from the warmth of their beds.
Sunniva and Aedre helped themselves to left-over food and a good cup of watered down Mead before seating themselves at the long, rough wooden table. Sunniva continued talking as Aedre began to eat the cold meal; she talked of the feast's happenings, fights, liaisons and funny stories of people partaking in too much ale. When they had finished Sunniva went to awaken some of the late sleepers before returning to set about the chores of the day with Aedre. A large group of women set about clearing the great hall. Aedre thought she had never seen such a mess, food scattered the floor along with spilled ale, Mead and regurgitated couplings of all. The smell was quite foul and the large doors to the room had to be thrown wide to let in clean, fresh air.
The women then set about clearing the floors; some had to leave the room as their fragile stomachs caused by too much drink would not allow them to linger long. Aedre smiled weakly at them, feeling slightly amused by their looks of disgust and pale faces. Sunniva teased them mercilessly and sometimes her words were even the cause of their hurried departure.
"See," Sunniva said smugly, "drinking too much never amounts to anything good, heed my words girl."
Aedre nodded in reply and carried on with her cleaning.
"Can't we rest Sunniva?" A girl with beautiful long blonde hair whined, her face almost a light green in colour. "I can't take much more of this smell."
"Now, now stop your groaning and get on with your work Guene, you don't see our little Aedre halting in her work."
Guene glanced at Aedre who was carefully mopping at the floor. "Well she wouldn't, she never says anything, not one complaint, she's unnatural."
The others girls gave a stifled giggled.
"Hold your tongue Guene, she's a better worker than you, just you remember that, now off with you, get back to cleaning, Éomer King will want this hall back in working use by this evening."
Guene gave a nasty look at Sunniva's turned back before doing as she was bid.
The sun rose higher in the sky and by the afternoon the hall was as it had been before the feast. Many of the girls, including Aedre were sent to wash and change their clothing; some even had leave to go back to sleep as the residents of the Golden Hall would be rising late in the day. Sunniva had Aedre help her with preparing late afternoon meals for the many guests staying at or nearby the hall which were then sent out with the servants.
Sunniva forced a large wooden tray filled with fresh smelling bread, honey, cooled roasted meats and a fresh mug of water into Aedre's hands.
"Take this on to Éomer King; he may be out of bed he may not, just leave it in his room so he can eat if he feels like it."
Aedre hesitated, causing Sunniva to eye her suspiciously. "What's the matter child?"
Aedre glanced at her before quickly looking down at the tray, she shook her head.
"Alright then, you can rest for a few hours when you get back." Sunniva quickly turned back to the fire, her attention once again upon serving food.
Aedre stood still for a moment, fighting an inner battle to make her feet do her bidding; finally she turned and walked from the kitchen taking the familiar pathways and corridors to the largest private chamber. The door was closed and a thought flashed across her mind of just leaving the tray beside the door and nodding eagerly if Sunniva asked if she had done her duty… but then Sunniva's disappointed expression swam into her mind and she knew she could not do such a thing, to have to witness that look was more than she could bear, worse than facing the man that confused and disrupted the way things were meant to be in her own little world.
She pressed her back against the door and it creaked open. Inside the room was dark, the shutters still latched. She took a few small steps forward as the door swung closed behind her. Aedre squinted for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust until she could make out darker shapes and avoid falling over or bumping into any of the furniture. Her gaze locked onto the small low stool that she normally laid his food upon and with carefully steps she began to make for it.
"Who's there?" a groggy and thick voice asked from the darkness.
Aedre froze.
"Light a candle" the voice commanded.
Aedre continued towards the stool and placed the tray down before searching a nearby table blindly until her fingers found a candle and the means to light it. The flame sizzled into life, casting a dull glow as the fire began devouring the wax, becoming brighter as it fed. She walked towards the bed and placed the candle near enough for the occupant to see by its light.
Éomer squinted and felt his head begin to throb as he became more awake.
"How late did I sleep?" he asked, placing a hand over his eyes.
Aedre could not answer but stood a good few feet from him waiting for his normal gesture stating she could leave.
Éomer glanced up as no reply was forthcoming, his gaze falling upon the small girl; the memories of the night before came flooding back into his mind, his eyes widened. Slowly, as if his thoughts were not yet functioning properly, he raised his hand and signaled that she could leave him; she quickly obeyed and scurried from the room. Éomer stared into the gloom a moment trying to gain an understanding to his actions at the feast before finally giving in to the urge to pull the covers back over himself and sink back into sleep.
---
Autumn made itself known in Edoras, the last days of summer were fleeting and the colder winds began to blow across the plains. The people of Rohan began to harvest crops and prepare for the coming winter, wood was gathered, meat salted and grain stored.
Éomer was finally given leave from his healers to rejoin his Éoreds and take part in hunting down any threats to his people. In the saddle, Firefoot's hoofs beating the ground like a steady, determined heartbeat, Éomer could almost believe himself to be a great man, a great king as Faramir said he would one day be. Here out on the plains, in the heat of battle he felt his qualities restored, the stuffy Golden Hall held no love for him nor he for it when all he did with his days was read paper after paper, hear case after case and sit upon his throne feeling as if he wasted slowly away to nothing.
Out here at least he felt as if he helped his people. Farming and the welfare of his people were important but they were things he could not fully understand, he had been raised as a warrior, the third marshal of the Riddermark, his duty to his king not as a king. He wondered briefly what his uncle, Théoden, would think of his nephew's rule, would he pleased or disquietened by Éomer's leadership, but then what did dwelling on such dark thoughts accomplish other than a foul temper.
The great city of Edoras, his city, loomed over the plains as he and his riders approached, Meduseld blazing golden in the Autumnal sun. This place had forever been his home, the Golden Hall his playground as a child, discovering passageways, stealing food from the kitchens… Everything had seemed warm, bright and loving, wrapped snugly in his mother's embrace, listening to his father talk in length of great battles and victories and watching his little sister Éowyn begin to talk and walk. But then everything had changed… that fateful day his father had not come home. A band of riders returned wounded and battle tired, he remembered being disturbed by the fact that so few of them came home… and his father was not among them… The lamenting shrieks from his mother had begun as she sank down to the ground, he had tried to support her but he was too young to be of any aid.
Théoden had tried his best to make the loss of his sister's husband bearable but nothing would quell her sorrow, before Éomer's eyes his mother had begun to waste away. She would neither drink nor eat without being forced, her face became pallid, she stopped conversing with anyone and her eyes glazed over unseeing of anything but past happy memories, memories she encased herself in, memories that slowly but surely killed her. She had become sick, some said of a fever, others a plague and some insisted it had been a broken heart, but whatever affliction caused it she had succumbed and died, Éomer and Éowyn had been left orphaned. Théoden had taken both of the small children in as his own, raised them alongside his son, but still, being raised by a king was very different to having one as a father.
Éomer spurred Firefoot onwards towards the great mounds that lined the way to the entrance of the city, mounds that both his uncle and cousin now slept in peaceful slumber. The small white simbelmynë flowers carpeted the green grass curves giving them a forlorn and sorrowful air, their presence an everlasting memory to those departed. Éomer felt a strange wave of emotion run through him at the thought that they would one day also cover his own barrow.
The gates were opened and the weary riders returned once more to their city. Éomer dismounted with one fluid movement and removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm. He found that his stomach was already grumbling at the prospect of a good hot meal and a mug full of ale. He was met by Gamling, a man after his own heart, a real Rohirrim to his very core.
"My lord" he said, giving a small dip of a bow. "I was not expecting you to ride out so soon after your last expedition, if I had but known I would have gladly come with you."
Éomer smiled warmly. "For that I am sorry Gamling, I would have liked to ride with you, but there are plenty of such days ahead."
Gamling nodded. "Some of the nobles are becoming restless that you have not been in the hall as much as they would wish, they seem to worry like old washer women at your riding." Gamling gave Éomer a warm smile, it was all too often that his façade slipped, reverting back to the Gamling he had drunk and gotten drunk with, had laughed and talked confidently with as only good friends do, he was much more comfortable in Éomer's presence than he had been in the late king's.
Éomer's brow furrowed. "Such men as these remind me of Grima, I shall not fall prey to any silver tongues or men telling me what I should do."
Gamling puffed his chest out a little in pride at his friend's words. "Then you make Rohan proud, Théoden King would be well contented to see his city and lands ruled as he once did before a shadow fell across us."
Éomer gave his friend a sideways glance. "Flattering your king will not earn you any more ale at the table" he teased, a sly smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Gamling patted Éomer affectionately but roughly upon the back. "Come… you could use a bath and some good food."
---
A/N
Sorry that my updating has not been quick of late, it is a trend that will continue as I am currently working on a story that holds all of my attention :(
I will assure you however that this story will continue to be updated but not on a regular basis and it will be completed at some point. I hope you'll bear with me and keep reading the updates when the come along.
