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Broken – Chapter II

Alone

Edoras, Mid-February 3018 T.A.

Silence and darkness. That was the only thing Théodred was aware of. He had no idea for how long he had been sleeping, but as he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't.

They had almost carried him to his bed and a healer had given him some mixture of herbs that had sent him deep into the embrace of sleep. Now he was sweating and feeling lightheaded, even though he was lying in bed. Every inch of his body was aching. Slowly he found himself drifting off into sweet unconsciousness again.

When the healer had left, Èowyn lingered at her cousin's side. He looked peaceful as he slept, although Èowyn knew that deep in his mind he was still struggling against the strong hands that had held him to his bed and fed him with herbs that would send him to sleep, forcing him to swallow.

Èowyn took up a damp cloth and placed it on his brow. At the soft touch, Théodred stirred slightly in his sleep and Èowyn stroke his cheek gently, taking his cold hand. After a while she got up and was just about to leave when Grima appeared in the doorway. As he saw her he gave the Prince's sleeping body a concerned look.

"How is his Highness?"

Èowyn stepped back in disgust. The King's advisor or not, she didn't like the man. "He will be fine, Grima. But you'd better not disturb my cousin when he's sleeping."

Her voice remained cold and her face expressionless as she spoke, but deep inside she was struggling with her emotions. Grima smiled dryly and disappeared down the same way he had come.

When she was sure he was gone, Èowyn made her way outside in need of fresh air, and stopped at the front stairs. The sun was setting behind the mountains and far away in the distance she could see a company of riders approaching the city. A smile appeared on her face, for it was her brother who was returning from the Eastfold.

-0-0-0-

Théodred opened his eyes slowly. He was alone again and was glad of it. He didn't mind his cousin's presence, but he needed some time alone. His head spinning, Théodred sat up in the bed and massaged his temples. His head felt like it could explode and his muscles ached. After a while he remembered the confrontation with his father and cursed. He had been foolish to go too far, but he had desperately wanted for his father to realize Grima's deception, even though it was in vain.

When he was sure his legs would carry him, Théodred stood up and pulled on his tunic. At first chance given, he would leave Edoras and summon his troops to Helm's Deep.

He was putting on his boots when the door opened, revealing the last person Théodred wanted to see. Normally, Théodred didn't mind if someone entered without knocking, but Grima's arrogant boldness angered him. Without invitation, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Already awake, your Highness?" Grima said with deceptive kindness. "I don't find it very wise, my lord. You should be in bed…"

Before the man could react, Théodred had drawn his dagger and held it to the Worm's throat. "Do you really think someone would care if I killed you now?"

Grima paled as the cold blade touched his throat, his eyes flickering nervously between the dagger and the eyes of the man who held it. "I'm no fool, Grima. I see through your lies even if no one else does and I swear that I need no further encouragement to slice off your throat right now."

Grima's grey eyes narrowed. "But who would believe you, Théodred son of Théoden? Once I'm dead, my blood on your blade, who will believe you?"

Thédored lowered the dagger slowly and Grima released himself from his grasp. "Yes, my lord. Perhaps you should consider that before using that blade. Not even a Prince is above the law."

As Grima turned to leave, Théodred caught the glimpse of a small bottle in his pale hands, before it subtly vanished into one of the many pockets in his black robes. Had Grima planned on poisoning him?

As the door closed behind the wretched man, Théodred let the dagger drop to the floor. Would he truly care if they called him murderer? If it came down between his own life and the realm...?

-0-0-0-

In the stables, Èowyn greeted her brother, totally unaware of the events in Meduseld. When she had mentioned Théodred's state to Èomer, he had exchanged worried glances with his second in command, Èothain. Both men knew all too well that the Prince's state was not a good omen for Riddermark. Èomer knew his cousin wasn't mad (he had seen those burned villages himself), but the Prince's open quarrel with the King and his advisor, angered Èomer.

Why couldn't Théodred simply remain quiet and do what he was told? Èomer chuckled at the thought. Of course, then he would not be Théodred. His cousin hadn't simply earned the rank of second Marshal of the Mark by keeping quiet about things that concerned his people.

No. He wouldn't be silenced so easily… and that frightened Èomer.

A/N: Please, review! I would really appreciate some feedback on this story! Thank you.