Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I just wanted to update before going home where I have absolutely no internet access. Funny, it's 2006 and people still have the nerve to rent out places with no internet connection!
Things Worth Fighting For
Chapter 22
"I ask you again, where is your brother?" Imrahil asked. "Do not force me to ask a third time," he warned, as if talking to a young boy instead of a grown man.
Lord Alheon burst into Prince Imrahil's study, not bothering to knock, only to find Imrahil standing there with his eldest son, a very unhappy expression upon his face. If Alheon didn't know better, he would have said the Prince almost seemed disappointed with Elphir. But he had urgent matters to discuss with Prince Imrahil, things that could not wait.
"My lord, I must speak with you."
Imrahil looked at his friend and steward. "Can it wait? This will only take a moment."
"But my daughter is missing," Alheon told him urgently.
"By the Valar, what has happened?" Imrahil asked; all thoughts of the son he could not find and the one reluctant to reveal anything momentarily forgotten.
"I am not sure, all I found was this," Alheon said, holding up a letter. Just as Imrahil was about to take it for a closer look, Elphir grabbed it from Alheon's hands.
"Elphir!" the Prince exclaimed in total surprise. His son's behaviour bewildered him more and more for each passing second.
Elphir glanced up at him, frowning as he gave his father the letter. "She has been taken captive."
Imrahil scanned the contents of the letter quickly, looking at his son disbelievingly. "This states that she went looking for evidence to use against Lord Talon, but for which reason I cannot fathom."
"He is not who you think he is," Elphir replied. "He is the one who has taken her."
"Elphir, I have never known you to falsely accuse someone before," Imrahil said, trying to keep his disappointment out of his voice.
"Talon and his brother, Arlos, are planning to take over Dol Amroth. He has threatened Lothíriel, sent a man to Rohan with a message for someone to assassinate Éomer King and kidnapped Lady Valinea."
Imrahil shook his head. "Elphir, this sounds rather farfetched. I cannot believe Lord Talon would do such a thing. He is an honourable man."
"Ada, he is not," Elphir argued.
Imrahil frowned. "Is this some sort of scheme of you and your brothers to save your sister from a marriage she does not desire?"
"Does he have my daughter?" Alheon interrupted, looking at Elphir.
The younger prince nodded. "I overheard him telling Lothíriel that if she does not do as he says he will…" he paused, taking a deep breath. "Then he will kill her. Amrothos heard it also." Alheon closed his eyes, fearing for his daughter's life. Imrahil still looked doubtingly at his son, despite the information he had just received.
"And where is Amrothos?" the Prince asked, returning to the original topic he had been discussing with his son.
"I sent him to Rohan, to make sure Éomer is not killed."
"You sent your own brother?"
"I sent one of the knights as well," Elphir replied.
"Excuse me, but can we not rather find a solution to this problem than argue about it?" Alheon interrupted suddenly.
"I do not believe this," Imrahil said. "Alheon, I do not believe Talon has kidnapped your daughter, even though my son obviously thinks so. You must admit she has quite a history of disappearing without a trace, and it is more likely that she has left Dol Amroth to search for evidence against Lord Talon, as her letter states."
Alheon could do nothing but nod reluctantly. His daughter did have a history of suddenly disappearing, only to return a day or so later with a book she had found rather interesting, and the excuse that she lost track of time. If she believed she could find evidence against Talon that would free Lothíriel of the marriage contract, it was the best reason she had had to disappear. But Alheon still had doubts. Why would she not have discussed it with him? After all, the last year or so, ever since Lord Talon had entered their lives, father and daughter had openly shared their misgivings about the man. Imrahil was blinded by the man's title and possibly the chance to have his daughter married well, and for some reason Imrahil's foresight had failed him when it came to this lord of Lebinnin.
"Elphir, I do not want to hear anymore accusations from you. This man is to be your brother-in-law, and I want you to treat him with the respect he deserves," Imrahil ordered.
Elphir's response was to cross his arms and looking defiantly at his father, a look on his face that had not been there since he was a teenager. It was a look that told his father that his son had no intentions of following his orders.
With no further words, Imrahil left the room. Elphir and Alheon looked at each other, silently agreeing that something had to be done.
"You know what to do?"
The messenger had reached Edoras in the late afternoon, with no further delays after killing the Swan Knight. He had waited till dark before making contact with the assassin. They met a mile or so outside the city, trying to attract as little attention as possible.
"I know what to do," the assassin answered, almost sounding offended. "I have been waiting for this my whole life."
"To kill Éomer or a member of the royal family?" the messenger asked, not really interested. Whether the assassin killed for money or some personal revenge didn't matter, as long as the job was done.
"To kill Éomer," the assassin answered with barely concealed disgust.
So it was personal then. It didn't matter. "The gold will be delivered to you when the job is done," the messenger said. "I suggest you use it to get away. When the royal guard finds their king dead you want to be a long way from here."
"I need to get back before I am missed," the assassin said, looking at the messenger. "When the job is done I expect my payment."
"I will be here," the messenger promised. At least till he knew the assassin had succeeded.
Lothíriel sat by the window, staring at the moon and the stars through the glass.
She thought of Éomer, wondering what he was doing, if he was in so much agony as she was. She wondered if Talon would follow through with his implied threat and kill Éomer. That was what she feared most. She thought that somehow she should have been able to prevent this from happening.
She was a prisoner in her own home. Talon had someone following her at all times, preventing her from trying to stop this disaster from taking place. And if she did anything he disapproved of, her best friend would be killed.
It was not long before she would be married to that snake. He would own her; she would be his to do with as he wanted. She would be trapped. An unseen prison, but a prison nonetheless.
It didn't matter anymore. If Éomer was killed she had no more reason to live. She would wither in this body, not caring if she lived or died. This battle was one she could not win.
It rained heavily as Amrothos reached the gates of Edoras. He was tired and hungry, for not to mention soaked to the bone, but he had to reach Éomer before it was too late. He could only hope he had arrived before the messenger, or at least before the assassin had a chance to complete his mission.
Before he had a chance to call out, someone called to him in Rohirric, words he did not understand, but that he imagined demanded him to identify himself.
"I am Amrothos, Prince of Dol Amroth! I have urgent business with your king!"
"A late hour to arrive, Prince of Dol Amroth, if that is who you truly are," the guard said, now speaking the common tongue.
"I am son of Prince Imrahil, and I must speak with your king. It is a matter of life and death."
Moments later the gates opened and Amrothos rode inside, to be met by a guard mounted on a brown horse.
"I will escort you to the Golden Hall, Prince Amrothos, but I do not know if the king will be there to greet you. As I said is the hour late."
"I will drag the king out of his bed myself, if need be, for as I said this is a matter that cannot wait, and your king's life may depend on it," Amrothos said and continued towards the Golden Hall, not waiting for the guard to follow him or not.
The assassin approached the large bed silently. The bed stood on the middle of the floor, the head end of the bed was against the wall, a fireplace and a door to an adjourning chamber was at the left wall and a large table stood against the other wall. At the foot end of the bed stood a large chest, and on the wall above the bed was a banner of the white horse upon a green field; the king's banner.
The room was dark, making it nearly impossible to see. But the assassin had no problems moving in the dark. The assassin had trained for this for years. Soon it would be over. Soon Éomer of Rohan would die.
The assassin reached the bed, and with a dagger in hand watched the king as he slept. He would die without even knowing. One fluid motion and his throat would be cut. The blood would splatter all over the chamber. It would all be tainted by red stains, and it could never be washed away. The assassin smiled.
It was time. No more sentiments. The assassin brought the dagger down against Éomer's throat. The dagger missed.
Éomer brought his own dagger up just in time to block the assassin's blade. He stared at the girl, woman, wondering where he had seen her before. It took him only a second to realize that she was one of the kitchen staff.
The assassin stared at him wide-eyed, and he grabbed her arm with his free hand, forcing the dagger out of her grasp.
The door burst open and three men hurried inside, swords drawn.
"Éomer!" Gamling shouted, stopping in his tracks as he saw the woman by the king's bed.
Halmod, the guard following Amrothos from the gates, stepped forth immediately, grabbed the woman by her arm and took her away from the bed.
"She is the assassin?" Amrothos found himself asking in wonder. What reason would she have to kill Éomer?
Éomer did not answer, but looked at Halmod. "Take her to the dungeons. She will be questioned later."
"Aye, my lord," Halmod replied, leading the assassin out of the king's chambers.
Gamling was immediately at his king's side, searching frantically for any visible injuries. "Éomer, are you all right?"
Éomer nodded, halfway on his way out of bed. "I am fine, Gamling." He looked at the prince. "How did you know?"
"Perhaps you should take a moment to rest, my lord," Gamling suggested.
Éomer shot him a glare. "It is not the first time someone has tried to kill me, Gamling."
Gamling nodded, "of course, my lord."
The King paused a moment, then looked at the two men. "Give me a moment to get dressed; then I will meet you in the Hall."
"My brother, Elphir, discovered that Talon sent a man here with a message for someone to assassinate you. A Swan Knight was sent, but I discovered him on the road, dead. I hurried here as fast as I could," Amrothos explained.
"Why would Lord Talon want the king dead?" Gamling wondered perplexed.
Amrothos looked at Éomer, who sat on the opposite side of the table, deep in thought. He met the Prince's eyes. "Because of your sister," he said quietly. Amrothos gave a nod.
"Princess Lothíriel?" Gamling asked in shock. "What does Prince Imrahil's daughter have to do with anything?"
Éomer wondered briefly if the man had always been so inquisitive while in his uncle's service. Or so daft. To everyone else, seemingly, it was obvious what his feelings were for the princess. Éowyn, Imrahil, Talon and now Amrothos and Elphir knew, but Gamling, who had more dealings with the king and knew him better, with the exception of his sister, seemed to remain oblivious.
Gamling studied the two younger men. Éomer seemed to be lost in thought, a far-away look in his eyes. Amrothos didn't meet anyone's eyes, and for some reason Gamling could not fathom the man was blushing. Then it dawned on him.
"Éomer, what did you do?" he asked, not speaking to his king, but rather the boy who had lived in Edoras since he was only 11. "The princess is betrothed; you have not done anything stupid, have you?"
Amrothos snorted. "Define stupid," he muttered to himself.
"I will not stand here and defend my actions to you, nor will I deny what I have done. But the relationship between the princess and myself is not what we were going to discuss," Éomer said, looking at both of them. "Amrothos, what is going on in Dol Amroth? Has Talon done anything to expose himself?"
"Exposed himself as a dishonourable man? Yes, he has," Amrothos answered "He kidnapped Lady Valinea and threatened Lothíriel."
Éomer said nothing, but his eyes darkened dangerously.
"I don't know how much danger they are in, but I fear for them. I fear for them all," Amrothos said, his eyes burning. "Talon is dangerous. He wants power. And as long as my father is alive he is in the way."
Éomer nodded. "To control Dol Amroth he must rid himself of Imrahil, and all his male heirs."
"Oh no," Amrothos muttered, fear in his eyes. "My brother's son… would Talon be so cruel to kill a child?"
"The child is in his way if he is to gain power of Dol Amroth, isn't he?" Éomer asked.
Nothing more needed to be said. It was clear that Talon would stop at nothing before he had Dol Amroth in his power.
"King Elessar would never allow something like this to occur," Gamling commented thoughtfully. "He would do all in his power to ensure that Dol Amroth is governed by Imrahil or one of his bloodline."
A thought hit Éomer then, and he looked at Amrothos in alarm. "Aragorn will be at the wedding."
Amrothos nodded. "Yes, of course. It's only natural that King Elessar and Queen Arwen will be invited to such an event."
"That is not the point!" Éomer started pacing the floor. "How many nobles do you expect to such an event? The king and queen will be there, and Faramir, your cousin, will also attend, being such a close relative. Who will be left to guard Minas Tirith, except a few soldiers who will be easily overtaken? There will be no one to command the troops, none the soldiers can look to for guidance."
"You expect an attack on the White City?" Gamling asked, wondering briefly if the king had injured his head during the assassination attempt.
"This is not a scheme of Lord Talon to gain power of Dol Amroth," Éomer said. "This is an attack to gain power of all of Gondor. And how better do this than gain control of Minas Tirith?"
"Then not only my family is in grave danger, but the king and queen as well. All of Gondor, in fact!" Amrothos looked at the king. "How will we prevent this? If Talon has gained knowledge of my departure he will most assuredly press for an earlier wedding. If he believes I will succeed or not does not matter, but he must be sure of his own success. And we will never get there in time to prevent this disaster."
"We may," a voice said, and they turned to find the Lady Éowyn approaching. "We can take the Paths of the Dead."
The dungeons were dark and cold, smelling of wet mud for some reason. Éomer nodded to the guard and went inside, stopping before the cell containing the assassin. The woman stared back coldly, her blue eyes like ice.
"Who are you?" Éomer asked.
"Do you not know?" the woman asked, almost sounding offended.
"Would I ask if I knew?"
"Probably not," she admitted, more to herself than to him.
"Why did you try to kill me?" Éomer wanted to know.
"If you think about it, you already know," the woman answered, struggling to get to her feet and leaned against the bars just in front of him. "You already know," she repeated.
"Would you get paid when you killed me? Was it for some personal grudge? Why did you do it?" Éomer asked, frustrated with her lack of information.
"Both," she admitted. "I would get paid. But mostly I did it out of pleasure. I would get pleasure out of your death, just as you once used me for your own pleasure."
"What are you talking about?" Éomer demanded angrily.
The woman smiled evilly, motioning him forward, and against his better judgement Éomer approached her and stopped just before her, with only the bars of the cell between them.
"What are you talking about?" Éomer repeated impatiently.
She brushed her lips against his, but he quickly pulled back, out of reach. He saw desire in her eyes, mixed with anger and hate. And then he knew. He knew…
"Thora!"
"No, absolutely not," Éomer protested as he continued to saddle Firefoot.
"It was my idea, and I'm going," Éowyn replied, putting the saddle on her own horse, Windfola, the horse she had ridden in the Battle of Pelennor during the war. Windfola had thrown Merry and herself when the King of the Nazgûl was before them. The horse had run wildly away, but had been discovered when the battle was over and Éowyn had decided to keep the faithful mount.
"Éowyn, no," Éomer said and grabbed her arm. "I need you here. You must lead the Rohirrim in my stead. Our people cannot lose faith when they see the last of the House of Eorl ride into battle again."
"Then you should remain and I lead the éored," Éowyn replied. "You are king and it is your responsibility to secure heirs for this kingdom."
"Without a queen I hardly see how that can happen," Éomer said.
"Éomer, you ride for your queen, but I ride for a reason similar to yours. Have you forgotten that Faramir will most likely be in as much danger as Lothíriel?" she asked.
Éomer looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head, as if giving up, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he looked at his sister. "I had forgotten how stubborn you can be."
"A trait I undoubtedly share with your future queen, if I am not mistaken," Éowyn smiled and continued to prepare Windfola. She looked back at her brother. "Everything will be fine."
The irony of it all did not escape Éomer. He distinctively remembered several years when he had done all in his power to assure his sister that everything would be fine. Now, it seemed, the roles had been reversed.
Éomer left Gamling in charge of his land and people when he rode once again to the aid of Gondor, though still no Gondorian knew they needed it. With him rode his sister, Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan, and also Amrothos, Prince of Dol Amroth.
Elfhelm rode with them, as did Éothain, captain of the king's guard, and Galrim and Halmod, and one hundred men of the king's éored.
Swiftly they rode across the plains, and came to Dunharrow in good time. Even if Aragorn and his company had taken the Paths of the Dead during the war, and it now was said to be free of the dead, there was still apprehension among the Rohirrim. The last of their people who had dared take that road was Baldor, son of Brego, whom no man had ever seen since he passed the Door under Dwimorberg.
But Éomer spoke to his men, saying that if some wanted to turn back, this was the time. None did, for none would consider themselves cowards, and so the Rohirrim rode forth and took the Paths of the Dead.
Éowyn rode up to her brother, knowing the darkness could do nothing to hurt her, but still feeling rather uncomfortable in this cold, dark place.
"Who is she?" she asked at length. "The assassin," she clarified at Éomer's puzzled look.
"No one," Éomer answered curtly.
"Don't give me that, dear brother. I know you spoke to her. I know you know who she is," Éowyn said, refusing to back down.
Éomer sighed, looking at his sister from the corner of his eye. "She was someone from my past."
"A lover?" Éowyn wanted to know, almost whispering.
Éomer glanced at her. "In a way," he admitted quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you remember a few years ago, when Fenmarch was overrun by orcs?" he asked her.
She nodded. "Yes, you had just been made Third Marshal. If I remember correctly your praise was sung all over Rohan after that. You freed the people and killed most of the orcs, almost single-handedly it is said."
Éomer smiled sadly. "I'm afraid it was exaggerated quite a bit. It was a good way to bring the people hope, though. A young Marshal with hardly any experience at leading men manages to free Fenmarch from orcs."
"That is hardly true," Éowyn protested. "As Théodred's lieutenant you often led the men in his absence."
"Yes, of course, but this was the first time I had to do so on my own, with no one to back me up. If I failed I could not turn to Théodred or uncle. I had to manage on my own. And yes, we won. We drove the orcs off and killed many. We freed the people, but not without loss. Thirty civilians lost their lives, sixteen of them children. Many of the riders of Fenmarch died, and I lost twenty riders. It was a hard blow to take. I was young and foolish, believing I would ride into battle and prevail, no matter what was thrown at me."
"I do not believe what I'm hearing," Éowyn declared. "Éomer, you were no more foolish then than you are now. I do not believe you thought you could just ride into battle with no fear of dying. You saw our father being brought home after he was slain. You knew the danger of battle better than anyone. No, I believe you just didn't expect to be put in command of an éored so early and having to handle their deaths alone. You were prepared that the men could die as a fellow rider, but not as their commander. As their commander you had to take all the blame upon yourself, not willing to share that responsibility. That is one of the reasons the people love you so. You take their suffering as your own. You are willing to take the blame yourself, thinking you should have done something to prevent it."
"Perhaps you are right," Éomer muttered.
"I know I am," she replied with a smile. "Now, what happened with this assassin?"
"After the battle of Fenmarch, I returned to Aldburg. I drank that night, wanting to forget. By mere chance I ended up in Haldfrid's house."
Éowyn raised an eyebrow. "Really? And let me guess, there you met quite a few young ladies interested in being of service to the Third Marshal."
Éomer had the dignity to blush at her statement. "I met her there, yes."
"And spent the night?" Éowyn asked.
"Yes, I did. I was not very considerate of her that night, taking only for my own pleasure. I never saw her after that, and I had forgotten about her until today," he told her.
"Why would she want to kill you?" Éowyn wondered.
"For her own pleasure, she said. Some twisted form of revenge, perhaps."
"She was probably in love with you and wanted to have you for herself. She knew she could never have you, so she decided that then no one ever would."
"Are women really that crazy?" Éomer wondered in disbelief.
"Some are," Éowyn answered. "What are you going to do with her?"
"You know what the law says," he answered.
"So you will order her execution?" Éowyn asked.
"The punishment is harsh, but she tried to kill a king. I cannot treat her any differently than I would any other assassin."
Thora glared at the man before her. "How did you get in?"
"I see your mission was unsuccessful," the messenger answered.
"He is a difficult man to kill," she answered.
The messenger only nodded. He sighed dramatically. "Seems like I must deal with the matter myself." He drew a knife.
She backed away. "I'll call for the guard," she warned.
"I don't think he'll hear you," the messenger said calmly. "He is taking a permanent nap."
"Get away from me," she pressed herself into the corner. He opened the door with keys he had taken from the guard. "No, get out!"
He smirked as he approached her. "No one will hear your pleas." And he cut her throat.
The night before the wedding of his sister, Prince Elphir lead his wife and son to the stables.
"Ride as fast as you can. Go to Minas Tirith and hide. When the morn comes I want you as far away from here as possible," the prince said.
"Elphir, what aren't you telling me?" Mariel asked. "What do you think will happen?"
"I don't know, but something is wrong. I don't want you or Alphros anywhere near here," Elphir told her.
"You fear Talon is up to something," his wife guessed. Elphir nodded. "But is Minas Tirith a safe location? The king and queen will be here for your sister's wedding."
Elphir thought for a moment. "Go north to Lamedon. Aunt Ivriniel is too frail to make the journey here for the wedding, but she will be happy for the company. Tell her what is going on, but don't come back before I send for you."
"What if you don't?" Mariel asked fearfully. "What if this you fear happen and you fall?"
"Then remain there till you hear news of my death, then you take Alphros and go north. If King Éomer still lives he will greet you well and give you shelter, or in any case his sister, the Lady Éowyn, will be there. They are kind and honourable people, and whatever happens in Gondor you will be safe there."
Mariel nodded, and Elphir kissed her and gazed upon his sleeping son, resting in her arms.
"He has grown so big," he whispered. "Almost three already."
Mariel smiled. "I know. I love you."
"And I love you," he answered, as he helped her mount. "Do not stop till you're safe. The Valar willing I will send for you before much time has passed."
A/N: sorry for the long wait, but I have been rather busy. Now there's just one or two chapters left, then this story is at an end. Review and we'll see how fast I manage to update next!