"Remove yourself from my presence!" Éomer's bellowed words had been the last thing he had spoken to Sunniva, he had feared he would strike her, that his anger would overcome him and he would do her harm, but she had taken the warning of his tone seriously and left immediately, all the while weeping still.

Now Éomer sat within the dimness of his chamber, the fire giving a red glow across his features as he sat in thought, his brow creased. He knew that Sunniva had been genuine in what she had told him, she had no reason to lie about such a weighty truth. But Éomer found himself still unable to quite believe all that had been told him. Aedre had never shown him one single shred of a violent nature, she was always quiet, patient and kind. How could she really have killed Gwene? How could she want to slip poison into the princess' food? It all seemed so distant from the woman he loved.

His mind drifted to the many nights they had spent together, in the darkness as she slept beside him, she had dreamed, of what he did not want to guess, but she cried out, her fingers uselessly spasming as she fought or defended against that which haunted her sleep. He had held her close to him, wanting to grant her some comfort, for he could give her no protection from her own mind. Stroking her hair and hushing her whimpers until she stilled in his embrace her breathes becoming deep and soft. His fingertips brushed the scars across her body, raised ridges of inflicted rage and cruelty.

He looked up and out to the fully exposed sky his flung back shutters revealed, clouds still held sway over the landscape beyond, mirroring his own inner brooding.

What was he to do now? Aedre had taken a life, whether he willed it or not, this was a fact. Now he must deal with it. But he did not know how, how to accept what was true, what his next step must be, how to feel... and how to stop loving her.

The king of Rohan relaxed back in his chair, feeling his will and strength leave his body. All this time he had been fighting for a lost cause, for something that could never be and this knowledge caused a great tiredness to wash over him and for a long time he remained motionless, the fire burnt out and the candles devoured any wax left until darkness swallowed him, and he found he didn't care.

"""""

The Golden Hall had been muted of late. The rooms felt quiet and normal gossip subdued as if a blanket had been placed over the building, causing everything to be muffled. All were worried for the king, he had taken ill and confined himself to his chambers, none had seen him for many days and he would admit none, not even the royal healers. He ate little and many feared the illness was not physical at all but a malady of the mind, something that could not be easily cured. Fear had started to seep into the cracks of Edoras as the king's strength wavered, despair lingered like a blade ready to fall at any moment and consume all will and hearts.

Éowyn paced her room, something was badly wrong with her brother. Sunniva was too busy tending to Aedre who was also unwell with a dangerous fever, so Éowyn had no one to confide in with her current deep troubling thoughts.

"My love." Faramir's voice displaced the tense feeling for a moment and she turned to face her husband. "I know you have cause to worry, but you will do no one good if you too become ill."

"I must see him Faramir, I fear great ill will fall upon my brother if I cannot reach him."

Faramir came to her, his hands holding her arms tenderly. "Then you will find a way. I know you will." He held her gaze, stating he knew just how strong and stubborn she was.

She nodded, taking great comfort within those words.

"Go to him again, do not give up. I know he will see you."

Yes." She said wiping at a stray tear. "I will go to him. He cannot bar me forever."

Faramir placed a tender kiss upon her brow.

"""""""""""""""""""

Éowyn stood before the king's chamber door and taking a deep breath in she rapped upon the wood. She waited for several moments, expecting the same response that had become so familiar over the last few days.

"Go away."

"Leave me."

But no voice came and the silence continued and so she knocked again and again, her frantic efforts becoming more and more desperate as she imagined the worst, her brother collapsed within, still and lifeless.

"Who is there?" The reply came stilling her attempts, and it was not the despairing angry voice she had heard so many times in days gone by but a sad, slurred tone.

"It is your sister." Éowyn said. "Will you not let me in,? I wish only to see you."

A blot clicked and the door swung slightly open as footsteps retreated back within the room.

"Come." The voice called.

She entered the room slowly, a small fear clutching at her stomach at just what she would find. She smelt the odour of unwashed skin and rotting food within, all was dark, the shutters closed. She walked in allowing the door to shut behind her.

"Éomer?" She ventured. "Are you well?"

A husky laugh was given in response.

"All are concerned for you, will you not tell me what ails you? Let me help."

"You cannot help me!" Came the gruff reply.

"I can try." Éowyn said, her eyes growing accustomed to the dimness and becoming aware of the many empty bottles that scattered the floor.

"You have been drinking?"

"Yes, and I would will you to bring more, for I have none left."

She saw his figure slump into a chair, his footing uncertain. Éowyn walked to him and sat upon a low stool, taking in his appearance which was dishevelled, unkempt and dirty.

"What has happened?" Éowyn asked breathlessly.

He eyed her distrustfully. "Everything has happened Éowyn, I have dishonoured our fathers and our people."

She shook her head resolutely. "No, do not believe such a thing."

"I have been a fool Éowyn, a fool that never learns. Do you know of what I speak?"

"I know you must speak of Aedre."

Éomer nodded his head. "Exactly, now I must decide to punish her or lie once more for her life."

"Of what do you speak?"

"What does it matter?" Éomer said suddenly becoming annoyed. "None of it matters."

Éowyn glanced down composing herself and searching for the words she wished to speak. "If you do not wish to tell me, you do not have to."

Éomer looked a little surprised, in his intoxicated state his emotions showed as plainly as the nose upon his face.

"I will aid you however I can, I will do what you ask of me and I will not ask you questions."

"What is this?" Éomer said laughing unkindly. "My sister being gentle, there must be sorcery at work."

"Please brother, sober yourself, whatever is to come and whatever has happened, you are still Éomer son of Éomund of the house of Eorl. Though you have so much of your own hurt, you are king, like our uncle before you. You have dishonoured none, your people need you and I need my brother." She felt tears welling and let them spill unashamedly. "You are my blood and I know you are strong, do not leave me alone Éomer, do not let my fears come to pass. I do not want to be the last of our bloodline, our family."

He stared at her for a long moment before his hand came tenderly to her cheek, wiping the tears away from her pale skin.

"Eowyn." He began sadly. "I have been a fool." Tears were in his voice but none came to his eyes.

She quickly grabbed him in a rough embrace, pressing their foreheads together as he fought against the overwhelming torrent of his own mental anguish. He let out a low hissed cry through his teeth, his hands grasping onto his strong willed sister for support.

Éowyn grasped him tighter. "All are fools for love, even kings."

For many moments they held each other, until Éomer pulled back, still drunk but composed. Éowyn pressed a hand to the nape of his neck and smiled warmly.

"I am glad you are here, sister."

"""""""""""""

Éowyn had left her brother after a long and drawn out talk, one which Éomer only had a hazy memory of now. But he knew that many of the words that had been spoken had eased the great burden he had felt and left him feeling a little shamed for retreating from the world. His sister held nothing back, her comments barbed but truthful. Éowyn had never been someone who was gentle, in fact her words and actions were so often clumsy and blunt that she could do much harm without meaning to. But he knew her too well to see anything but good intentions in all she said to him this day.

He had kept the truth of Aedre to himself and Éowyn had understood his need to hold his secrets dear. But he had been plain; Aedre could no longer be his consort and for to her to stay within Edoras was no longer an option. Of this there was no other choice. He had debated with himself for many dark days whether punishment should be rained down upon Aedre, so many nights he had wanted to run to her chambers and drag her into the great hall before all, declaring her misdeed and allow the laws and people to take the matter out of his hands. But Éomer knew his anger held sway in those moments and his will to hurt Aedre was only a reflection of the pain he himself felt.

Now his decision had to be made, and he knew the outcome of one of his choices all too clearly. If Aedre was found to be the cause of Guene's demise the laws had only one punishment for a woman of her rank, burning alive. His hearing pricked at the crackle of the newly lit fire nearby and he turned to the flames, imagining for one horrific moment that Aedre was within them, her body slowly devoured as she choked upon her own smoke filled breathes, her screaming a silent gaping mouth of terror.

No matter the wrong of a life being taken, he could not be the cause of her death, he would never forgive himself and he could not bear the thought of bringing her harm. He sighed heavily, it was a choice he bitterly wished had never been his to make, but it was.

"I have sent for hot water for your bath." Éowyn's reappearance in the room caused him to sit up from the bed he had been lying upon trying to gather his thoughts.

He nodded his thanks, steadily feeling the alcohol wearing off, leaving a painful throb behind within his temples.

"I know you will not tell me what has changed your mind." She began but Éomer raised a weary arm in protest.

"I do not wish to go over it any more Éowyn."

"I would not will you to." She said in a clipped tone. "I know it must be grave, and I need know no more."

"Speak then." Éomer said rubbing his brow.

"Whatever she has done, whatever anger you feel, Éomer, you can save her, do not abandon her when she needs you most."

The familiar words rang within his memory like a clatter of falling pots crashing and cracking into forgotten remembrances that he loathed to drag up from the depths of where he had sealed them.

"You know as well as I, that you willed to heal the past with your stubbornness, you standing beside Aedre was no mere whim."

Éomer glanced at his sister, hurt mingling with temper. "Why do you bring this past up now?"

"Because." Éowyn said with true sympathy. "This time you can save the one you love."