A/N
Again I'm sorry this update is later than it should be. I fear my muse does not visit as often as I'd like and recently, even though I have the next two chapters written out, I have had a hard time liking where I am taking this story. I know where I want it to go and what emotions I want to convey but getting them on to paper (so to speak) is very hard. I've already re-written the next two chapters twice... in all honesty I think I'm being a little too picky and I will try my best to get over it and have those to chapters up by New Year. Your thoughts and reviews would be most helpful right now.
Thank you once again for reviews, a special thanks to PetiteJeanne. Your review was very helpful and I will certainly take on board some of your comments and think about having an Éomer/council scene, but it will be a while away... this story still has a good way to go, and the ending is still misty even for me.
I hope you enjoy this chapter.
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Aedre sat within her room in a daze. The hour was late and the weather outside harsh. It had been weeks since Éomer's first meeting with the council and still their disagreement raged on. All eyes turned to the outbursts, all ears to the rumours that Éomer King warred against the council, but none knew the reason, save it concerned marriage and the right of the king to elect his own wife.
Many in the Golden Hall sided with the king, believing he should have the right to choose his own bride, to feel no pressure and to hear no commands that didn't serve his will... but perhaps these very same people with such noble ponderings would not have been so forgiving and understanding had they known the king wished to marry a lowly serving woman.
Aedre had to endure the constant chatter and gossip that swirled around her daily life. Éomer's name was upon everyone's lips, every conversation led to the current disquiet in the hall. Perhaps she could have tolerated all this if she had been allowed to be with him, hold him, listen to him and sleep beside him. But now she was only permitted the briefest of meetings and snatches of moments. Éomer was too concerned with his next spar with the council members and Sunniva too fretful of them being discovered, before the time was right, to allow them more time together than she deemed was necessary.
Aedre slowly felt herself descending into a daily routine that gave her no joy, no pleasure. All she longed for was to see Éomer and once that small, brief moment was done, her bed and the silence of sleep were all she wanted. But it seemed even sleep deceived her, beckoning with soft lullabies and promises of calm darkness and instead welcoming her into its folds with nightmarish images her dreaming mind conjured to torment her further. Many was the night that she awoke damp with sweat, her heart hammering hard and fast and her breathing panicked, and no one was there to console her and tell her the monsters were not real, that she was safe... for she knew that now she was no longer safe in Edoras. It only took one person to discover she was the cause of the city's upheaval and she feared she would be chased from here in the same way she had been chased so many times in her youth from the villages. She cringed and shuddered at the thought of the people she knew and spent most of her chore time with jeering and taunting her... no longer accepting her.
Then she would be alone in the wilds, expected to fend for herself with no pity or kind words held out to her. Would she revert back to the way she had once lived before Anborn found her? Dirty and unaware of just what lay beyond her own tiny existence? She grasped at the soft material of her skirts at the thought. No, it would be different, for she would never be able to forget what she had lost, her warm room, her clothes, the pride she took in her appearance, the food, her work, Sunniva... and Éomer... Of all things, he would never leave her memories, and the cold, dark nights would seem all the more bitter with his loss.
She felt tears pricking her eyes and blinked hard, allowing them to overflow onto her cheeks. She ran her fingers roughly through her hair, grasping at the strands near her temples and pulling slightly, glad of the small hint of pain the sensation brought before curling herself up upon the bed and bringing her knees up to her chest. In the glow of a slowly dying candle she rocked herself gently, trying in this bleak moment to maintain a firm grasp upon her own mind.
Winter curled its unforgiving cold embrace around Rohan. The frosty nights were harsh and few ventured outside of Edoras. The season of snow would soon be upon the land and people huddled together by fires, trying to stave off the chill.
Tonight was to be the mid-winter feast, a time to bring light and laughter into the short days and long nights. The Golden Hall was bustling with activity as preparations were made, great amounts of food cooked and mead and ale barrels brought forth.
Aedre busied herself as best she could, her only positive thought was that perhaps tonight Éomer could slip away from the merriment and they could spend a few precious moments together alone. How she missed the warm brush of his hand against her own, the softness of his lips and calmness of his voice. She willed time to work faster, to come to that point which she so longed for, and silently wished that her hopes would not go unheard.
""""
The feast began in earnest as soon as the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon and the velvet touch of darkness began to cover the sky. A large fire burned in the great hall of Meduseld as people drank, ate and danced to the musical entertainment offered. The strains of the woman currently singing a sweet song of bitter, unrequited love towards a warrior who would never return from battle flowed in lament-filled strings throughout the room. Aedre did her duty of supplying drink to the various long tables. Try as she might she could not help her eyes flitting to where Éomer now sat, surrounded by his close Éored. He drank with a dark frown upon his face, his mood foul and although his companions did their upmost to cheer his spirits it was a losing battle and they finally left him be, sensing he was not welcoming their attentions. Aedre watched as he drained another mug of mead and another, his movements becoming slow and clumsy. Her heart ached with distress at this scene, for she knew he did not drink to induce merriment but to block out the unpleasant thoughts that plagued him constantly, thoughts that told her through his eyes at each of their meetings that he was becoming desperate and his options narrow.
She kept hoping he'd notice her, that he'd look up and see her and they could meet outside of the great hall in the darkened corridor. But his attention remained upon his drink and his mind, it seemed, upon how fast he could consume it. Aedre knew she risked much by her actions, but slowly she worked towards his table, filling outstretched cups as she went, trying her hardest to keep her eyes upon her task. Finally she reached where he sat and managed to hold out her wooden jug of mead to the king's table before any of the other serving women had realised the king had nearly finished his drink. She attended to the many warriors before finally coming to the king, who had just at that moment drank the last dregs of his own drink.
Aedre began to fill his cup before he had even become aware his cup was empty. With a surprised expression that the serving maid had not even waited for his order; he looked up, annoyance clouding his features. But as his eyes beheld her, his expression fell and instead of a reprimand he gave a small nod of thanks, acknowledging what her boldness signified. Aedre bowed her head respectfully and made her way from the room, hoping he would know she wished him to follow her. She waited in the dim corridor with great apprehension, fidgeting with her hands as her eyes stayed locked upon the door he would come through. She told herself sternly that she must hold patience in her heart; it would look odd if he exited so quickly after a serving maid, better if his companions thought he needed to relieve himself after too much drink, or gather some fresh air into his lungs after the acrid warmth of the hall.
Finally he appeared, although his state caused her heart to pull tightly. He had partaken in far too much mead, his steps uncertain and his mind clouded with the sweet intoxication of the honeyed drink.
Without thinking, she rushed to him to aid his clumsy walk, and he wrapped his arm lightly about her shoulders for support. Knowing that in his current state it was more likely they would be discovered she quickly hurried him down the corridor, her eyes searching for any danger as they walked, until finally she reached a door that led to a room she knew would not be used on this night. She quickly lifted the latch and they both slipped inside. The room was pitch black and she stumbled slightly before slowly sliding her feet forward until her searching hand grasped a table. She groped in the darkness and finally found what she sought. Without hesitation she brought the candle flame to life and a dim glow lighted the room.
Aedre set the candle back down upon the table before helping Éomer into a seat, she then rushed to the door and opened it a crack, her gaze searching the corridor beyond. When she was sure all was well she closed the door and leant back against it, allowing a moment for her heartbeat to return to a steady pace. Once she felt calmer she turned back to where Éomer sat, currently humming a bawdy song to himself, accompanied every now and again by erratic hand moments that were part of the fun of this tune. Aedre studied him for a moment, if the situation hadn't held such sorrow behind it she surely would have laughed at his current state, but all she felt now was great pity, pity that he had felt he needed to drown himself in drink to escape whatever pursued his thoughts and thinking.
She walked softly forward and stilled his drunken movements with her hands, encircling his wrists. Éomer allowed her to lower his arms and he watched her with an unfocused gaze. He gave out a low, soft chuckle.
"I have drunk far too much mead woman." He gave a boyish grin and Aedre gave a weak smile in reply. "I know not why I did; I wished to see you tonight, not drink." His words were slightly slurred and heavy. "I hoped it would put me in a merry mood, but cup after cup passed my lips and I just... felt nothing."
Aedre bent down beside him, supporting her weight on her knees as she moved her hands to partially enclose his own. "Why is this winter so harsh?" he suddenly bellowed, making her start with surprise. "Everyone's hearts are turned to ice, nothing will melt them... my words have no effect." He bowed his head, causing strands of blonde hair to fall across his face. Slowly Aedre moved his hair away, taking time in the task and allowing her hands to brush reassuringly against his stubbled cheek. Éomer closed his eyes at her caress and a low sigh escaped his lips.
"I miss you" he said, still shielding his gaze from her. "I know not what else to do, I lose hope each day and you are never there to give me courage. I find myself loving and cursing you in the late hours..."
Aedre looked on horrified as tears overflowed from his tightly closed eyes and slid, hot and wet down his cheeks. She had never seen him in such distress and in that moment she wanted to flee the room, flee Edoras, leave all this heartache and sorrow far behind and allow those here now to deal with the aftermath. She would run until her legs gave out beneath her and her breath stilled... anything to not see this unnatural-feeling sight before her.
Hurriedly she began to wipe at the tears, trying vainly to erase them, to erase the very moment. Finally Éomer brushed away her attempts and dried his eyes roughly with his palms before letting out another low chuckle.
"I have drunk far too much mead" he repeated.
Aedre stared at him, uncomfortable in this moment, unnerved by the tears he had shed. Éomer grinned a little lopsidedly.
"That look is not a welcome greeting" he said, touching her cheek lightly with his fingers. "I did not mean to worry you; it is the drink, nothing more..." He paused, "I am better now, more myself."
Aedre gave him a wary look but nodded to his statement, the moment of despair had indeed seemed to pass. He brushed his hand harshly across his face, trying to dispel the effect of the potent liquor. "I should soon go back, they will search for me" he said, referring to his feast companions. "They have already tried to cheer me to the point of torture on this night."
Aedre smiled at his words, sensing the Éomer she knew and depended on within them. For a long moment his eyes lingered over her face, it was a look that spoke of longing and the ache of distance. He reached out once more, his hand finding the nape of her neck and slowly he bent, pulling her face to his and their lips met in a heated kiss. As they parted Aedre let out a small sigh of contentment, how many days had she longed for this meeting. She rose from the floor and softly sat upon his lap, wrapping her arms about his shoulders she pulled them both once more into a passionate meeting. She felt his hands encircle her waist, pulling her closer to his body. His tongue sought hers as lust began to cloud his already misty mind and desire pulsed through his being, stirring emotions and sensations as his body longed for that one connection he knew she was not willing to share.
His palms roamed her form, following the dips and curves until his hand cupped the mound of her breast through her clothing. He allowed his fingertips to follow the outline, his mind bitterly wishing that his own skin was bare against hers, that he could feel the smoothness beneath his touch. He felt her breathing quicken as he worked, his lust flared heatedly within his mind and body, willing him forward.
His mouth again sought hers with a rough kiss while his hands roamed her legs, pushing and guiding her into an astride position upon his lap. His thoughts began to feel hazed, as if he dreamed the situation now happening about him, that he could not prevent his own actions. His fingers sought her skirts, brushing them forcefully up her thighs, exposing bare skin to his touch. He was aware that his lips ground into hers, needing and desperate. He gripped her thighs and urged her forward; forcing their bodies to grind together. At the long awaited contact Éomer let out a low, throaty moan of pleasure and allowed their kiss to break. His eyes opened and focused upon her, the sight of her seemed to bring some of his senses back to him. She was not scared, of that he felt certain, but she wore a questioning look of confusion, her expression speaking that she could not fully understand this, this was strange to her... but she wished to please him.
Éomer felt his lust begin to retreat, as if an icy bucket of water had been poured over his body. Shame burned within him; once again he had allowed too much mead and his own desires to cloud his judgement. Annoyed with himself and the frustration he felt, he pushed her from his lap a little more roughly than he had intended.
Aedre stumbled, only just managing to keep her footing. She righted herself and stared at him questioningly.
"Why did you do nothing to stop me?" he hissed angrily, his frown giving his features an irate expression. He suddenly stood and paced a few steps, as if not knowing what exactly it was he should do. "I am but a man Aedre, a man who loves you, I have needs... needs that you will not fulfil!" He brushed his hair angrily out of his face and turned to look at her. Her large brown eyes stared back at him, reminding him sorely of a dog that had been reprimanded and now sought a kind word from its master. He let out a sigh, knowing his anger was misplaced once again. "I did not mean for my words or actions to be so harsh, but before you stopped me, would you not have stopped me this night?" He shook his head. "If I had not stopped would you have grown to resent and despise me, thinking of me no better than an Orc... I could not bear that."
Aedre cocked her head at his words. She wished bitterly she had her palette with her so she could explain her thoughts, her feelings... but all she could do was give him a small reassuring smile. She couldn't understand why he was referring back to the Orcs, he had not tried to press his weight upon her, or touch her where she did not wish to be touched... their bodies had met, but both wore clothes, no attempt was made to touch her fully... why could he not see this.
Éomer's frown deepened. "I do not understand and I am too drunk to find means for you to explain." He shook his head. "I should return to the feast, I will be missed."
He took a few unsteady steps past her and reached out for the door. Aedre stopped him from touching the latch, her hand curling around his wrist and bringing his palm to rest upon her chest. Éomer studied her for a brief moment, he wanted to give her words of comfort, strength and love but his tongue felt dry and the bitter loss of his lust still stung his drunken mind. "I must return" he repeated, pulling his hand from her grip. Without looking back he exited the room and made his way along the corridor as Aedre stood at the doorway watching him with haunted, fearful eyes.
