The Wild Westfold
By: Lauthica Green Clinkenbeard
Chapter Thirty: An Empty Room
My feet felt as if they were tied securely upon the tops of thick bricks cut from the densest of stones. The once warm and inviting black marble in intricate patterns on the floor now seemed so cold. The hallway stretched before me like a dark serpent. With every step I took closer to the deep, mahogany door it twisted and turned within, and the lifeless, grey walls and archways seemed that much more sinister. My fingers trembled as I reached out my hand, drawing ever nearer to that door; the door of the King's chambers. The white tree sprawled across the boards, carved deep within the dark wood. The shadows of the night casted upon the grooves and ridges and eerily resembled blood as if the design was bleeding and weeping. Its branches reached out like hands of sinister fingers and spiraled upward toward the heavens. Where once its sight had brought me joy and hope, I stood now with ice in my soul and acid in my blood. What would I find waiting for me on the other side of that door?
My mind grew weary and wild as my imagination tested me. I was frightened. I silently prayed that the door would never come. I prayed that somehow the citadel would swallow me and all songs and glory of myself would pass as breath passes upon the wind of a strong storm. When my fingertips bumped into the cool, smooth surface of the door I felt my stomach flip in on itself.
The double doors opened suddenly, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. The guards, the same that had come to fetch me, backed away from the latch seeing me, nodded their heads, and returned back to their posts at the side of the door. I walked in slowly with my fingers locked tightly together in front of me. I walked through the open entryway and came to the study where Aragorn sat at the king's desk reading some great and dusty tome. He heard me enter the room and looked up.
"My lady," he said closing the book quickly. He stood and bowed his head as he walked toward me.
"Your grace…." I said gulping as I gave him the lowest, most polite curtsy I could muster.
Aragorn turned toward the guards at the door.
"Leave us," he commanded waving his hand through the air.
"Yes, your grace," the guards said bowing. They walked through the study toward the main door. I heard the door creak as it shut and as the heavy latched clicked it seemed to echo within my head and I felt as if a mountain had been tossed upon my shoulders. I knew that Aragorn and I were alone. My stomach churned and I felt as if I would vomit at any moment.s
He turned toward me and his hand rose into the air.
"Come, my lady." He said beckoning me with his fingers. His tone was calm. I should have answered him again politely but the words stuck in my throat like stones. I took his hand with trembling fingers. He led me past the study to an archway that was covered by several thick curtains of velvet. He parted the curtains slowly about us and when the final layer of the thick fabric billowed out of the way I looked upon the king's bed chamber.
"You are shaking, my lady. Are you cold?" he asked letting go of my hand. My hand fell back down to my side and I found myself only standing there staring at him blankly. He looked confused for a moment, but he turned away and crossed the room over to the fire. He picked up a couple of small logs and threw them into the glowing coals.
I had absolutely no idea what I supposed to do. There was no fire in my blood; no passion. Instead of a tingle my skin crawled and felt clammy. Perhaps if I just remained silent and obedient it would be over quickly. That's what I wanted. I trusted Aragorn, but if he had requested such a thing as this before I probably would have beat the daylights out of him….now he was a king….THE king. One cannot lay a hand on such a king…..or refuse such an "honor."
He turned back around and stared at me. He looked me over briefly and smiled.
"That is a lovely gown. It becomes you." He said.
I stared back at him. There was no denying that Aragorn was a handsome man. He was tall and broad, though not nearly as broad as Eomer. His eyes were kind and I knew his touch to be gentle. I reached behind me and pulled the ties securing the back of the dress. I tugged on them quickly and then I slid the sleeves down my arms. The gown pooled on the floor at my feet within mere moments. I had never been the most modest of women, but standing before Aragorn now made me feel so small, fragile, and disgusting. Perhaps he would find me too repulsing and change his mind.
His hands suddenly flew up to his face to block my nude figure before him.
"No! No! No! No! Deya!" he yelled out turning a bright shade of red. I frowned at him….he did not have to act THAT repulsed.
He grabbed a thick silk blanket from the bed and rushed over throwing it around me.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he said over and over. "I told the guard to be vague, but I did not think he would have been that vague. Forgive me! Forgive me! I did not ask what you may have think I have asked!"
I looked up at him confused. "What do you mean told the guard to be vague?"
"I told them to summon you and that it was a matter of the utmost digression!" he said still red in the face as he back away from me, "I said nothing of…the particular nature in which you thought. I only summoned you for…"
Before he could finish his sentence one of the heavy tapestries that hung in the corner of the room was swept back so fiercely that the ties securing it to the ceiling snapped. The fabric crashed to the floor folding about itself with a thud, knocking over the table next to the king's bed. The wash bin and several other ceramics shattered on the floor. Dust stirred up and billowed all around us like clouds. Amongst the chaos stood Eomer; cheeks red with anger, chest heaving in fury, fists with knuckles white as snow clutching a small bouquet of flowers now quivering from stress with pedals trickling down to settle among the midst of the mess.
Aragorn coughed as he fanned his hand through the stirred up dust. "I shall take my leave." He said nodding his head first toward Eomer and then to me as he walked briskly past and disappeared beyond the velvet curtains.
"Eomer…" I said relaxing as my nerves lifted, "Thank goodness I was summoned for you." I smiled at him, but his face remained expressionless. His eyes burned into me with fire, but it was not warm and welcoming. My smile faded and I stared at him in silence. I took a few steps toward him and reached out my hand.
"Eomer, my love, what is the matter with you now?" I asked in a gently tone. It had been so long since I last held him in my arms. So long since I last felt his skin pressed against mine. I was waiting for the sternness of his face to melt away. I was waiting for him to rush to me. To embrace me. To bury his face into my bosom…but just as my fingertips entered into his space his face twisted up in rage. He reached out and took my hand so roughly that I felt as if my fingers would break. He did pull me to him but only to grab hold of my chin roughly. I cried out briefly in shock but was silenced as he left go of my hand and brought his hard across my face.
He released me and I fell to the floor clutching my cheek as tears welled in my eyes.
"What is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed.
"What is wrong with me?! What is wrong with you?!" he exclaimed back. "Would you expose yourself so freely to any man who would show you favor?"
"I did not know you were in here. I thought that Aragorn had…." I started but Eomer cut me off.
"And what if he had? Has he knowledge of you? Who else has?" he asked, his tone becoming broken and erratic.
"No he doesn't!" I yelled. "No one has but you!"
"Can I be so sure anymore?!" Eomer asked shrugging his shoulders.
"Eomer I…." I said as I desperately tried to calm him but once again my words were slashed.
"NO!" he screamed as a single tear escaped from his eye.
Eomer quieted and the room became as silent as a crypt. I could find no words to say. I could think of no actions to take. Eomer let his head fall in despair.
"No…" he said his voice now relaxed.
He looked back up at me, and met my gaze. Even though our eyes only locked for a few moments it felt like an age. My entire being felt numb and my blood seemed to seep from my body taking all of its warmth along with it. Finally…Eomer's lips parted.
"There is too much…this is too much…You must never doubt my love and affections…but I cannot handle this any longer. You are released from whatever duty and obligation you owed Théoden and/or me. When we return to Edoras you will gather your things and you will exile yourself. Never show your face to me again." He said as bluntly as he could muster and then he walked past me, brushing my shoulder roughly, and left the room.
All the laughter…all the joy…all the sunshine…all the hope…all the faith…every kiss…every touch…every dream…every fiber of my heart and soul left the room with him. Strangely enough I shed no tears. Perhaps somewhere deep within my heart I agreed with him. How much longer would I be able to handle his own manic swing moods? How much longer would it take before I would tire of him and seek another? What that the true nature of the evening? This is for the best…this is for the best…this is for the best…then why does it have to hurt so much?