Chapter 32: Dinner and Discourse
"This is troubling news," King Elessar remarked with furrowed brows as he set the goblet of wine down. Éomer nodded his assent while the once Ranger leaned back in his finely crafted chair in thought. The two dined alone this evening, having spent the last several days in the company of their allies. The well lit hall of Minas Tirith was unusually quiet this evening compared to the hustle and bustle Éomer had witnessed in the days previous.
"Yes," the Rohirric king conceded with a deep set frown. This was the first opportunity he'd had to discuss the situation of the Dimholt orcs with the King of Gondor privately. It was Éomer's most pressing matter but it was only now that he could share his concern with Aragorn. Both had been long engaged with meetings and councils, hardly able to clasp hands before they were embroiled in the affairs of kings.
"I have heard reports of orcs spreading from the Black Lands with the intent to exact revenge on Men," Aragorn mused, his elbow resting on the chair's arm. A servant silently removed their empty plates and refilled the wine as the men sat in contemplative silence.
"You do not think them leaderless," Éomer murmured after a moment, looking up to catch the affirmation in the other man's gaze. "Who?"
"I do not know," the other admitted, shaking his head slowly, the narrow crown glinting in the candlelight. "I am advised that it is likely no more than an underling of Sauron's attempting to seize power since the destruction of the Ring."
"Such advisements seem risky."
"Indeed," the King agreed. "I would not wager our kingdoms' safety on such suggestions. Perhaps they are true but we would be remiss if we did not view this as a threat. What of the Dunlendings?"
"Irritants and outsiders," Éomer answered slowly, thanking the serving maid with a nod as she placed clean silverware before him. "I don't expect they're civilized enough to come to an agreement amongst themselves, let alone join forces with anyone."
"Then we must look to other options. But do not discount any enemy, my friend. I fear there is more darkness to overcome in these years. Sauron's influence was vast and while we have achieved his defeat I am troubled over the machinations of men and orc alike. The Easterlings appear compliant with our victory but there may be treachery breeding among their ranks. I do not know what peril the Dunlendings bring your people but this situation with the Morder orcs is certainly disturbing."
"I will maintain sentries at the entrance of the Dimholt," Éomer announced quietly as Aragorn worried his chin in thought, his fingers running through a beard that was both fuller and better kept than the first time Éomer met the Dunedain.
"And I will have men posted at Blackroot Vale. If the mountain pass is secured from both ends there will be no surprises." King Elessar paused to study the other man, his expressive pensive but calm. "Do you think there is more trouble to be had from these orcs?"
"It seems this is an isolated case and yet," Éomer trailed off as he too leaned against the back of his chair, the fabric of his tunic rustling against the wood. He was dressed in informal attire, his livery stripped after their last official meeting with the Council earlier that evening. Aragorn had also opted for a more relaxed appearance though he still wore the crown of Gondor. His Elven wife had left the two to their supper with a knowing smile to her husband, bidding the King of Rohan a polite but subdued farewell. The shared glance between Aragorn and Arwen had not been lost on Éomer though he did not remark upon it. But it reminded him how strongly he wished to quit these lands and return to Lothíriel in the comfort of their home.
"My friend?" Éomer was snapped from his thoughts by Aragorn's teasing tone and simpering grin. Coughing lightly to cover the embarrassment at being caught staring into the Grey Havens the King of Rohan sat up a little straighter.
"My apologies," he replied with an unapologetic smirk. "Often I find myself missing the open plains of Rohan."
"And a certain Queen, no doubt."
"Yes, but I've no doubt she can perform both our duties with striking accomplishment in my absence," Éomer smiled as Aragorn chuckled and nodded.
"Queens are like that," the Dunedain stated with a warm smile. "And I must congratulate you again on the impending birth of your child."
"Thank you," the King of Rohan returned the smile one more. "Lothíriel is both strong and healthy. I am confident this child will be born safely."
"May the Valar bless you, old friend."
"And you and your growing family, King Elessar."
"Let there be no formalities between us," Aragorn stated with a raised hand, the smile still pulling at the corners of his lips. Éomer nodded his head in accord. "Have you spoken to Imrahil yet?"
"Unfortunately no," the blond king frowned slightly. "We have both been much engaged. I would like to, though. Lothíriel sent him a letter announcing the pregnancy but I think he would be much relieved to hear from his daughter's husband that her health is well."
"No doubt. He may even set aside time to visit Rohan."
"You are both welcome, should you find the time amidst your chaotic schedules."
"How have your people's herds faired this spring," Aragorn inquired, the shift in topic giving the blond king pause. Éomer caught a tone in other man's voice that implied a question he wasn't about to speak aloud. With an uneasy sigh the King of the Horselords shifted in his chair.
"They've weathered the cold and rain as they have for years," he replied, his answer intentionally noncommittal. If Aragorn was going to offer Gondor's help he would have to say so.
"Hardy people, yours are," King Elessar responded smoothly, dropping his hand from the beard and watching his friend closely across the small table. "Gondor is fortunate to have such an ally."
Leave it to Aragorn to spin an insistence for support into a compliment. In spite of himself Éomer could not help but smile, though it was decidedly not as congenial as before. He knew his friend would not take a rebuff offensively. But Éomer was not here to disregard the Gondorian king's generous offer and rejecting it would be foolish.
"We will come to Gondor's aid without question. And Rohan is deeply fortunate to claim your allegiance. But I do not wish to mince words with you, Aragorn. I realize I have been less than receptive of late to any suggestion of help. And although we managed the winter without misfortune I would be imprudent to refuse your assistance again."
It was not something Éomer was particularly skilled at but he was realizing quickly that his pride could never outweigh the health and safety of his people. Aragorn, Elfhelm and Lothíriel had been painstakingly tolerant with him as he came to understand this truth and it gave him a moment of displeasure to grasp his error. But he was grateful to all of them and swore a private oath not to forget their patience. With a dip of his head, the King of Rohan broke his gaze as the other man raised a goblet toward him.
"You are a fine king, Éomer. Your uncle, may he rest in the light of the Valar, would be proud of the prosperity you have brought your people.Théoden judged his actions under the strictest of morals and I see the same fortitude in you, good friend. May Rohan thrive immensely under your rule."
"And to you," Éomer replied earnestly as he too raised his glass. "A wise and just King for Gondor in her time of need. I am ever amazed at the strength of your character and marvel at your will, my friend. Gondor will finally see the sun rise in the east without a cloud of darkness. May both our lands be blessed and our children strong."
"And our wives content," Aragorn added wryly, their toast was sealed and the kings' laughter echoed through the hall.
A/N: Sorry for the wait. I'm working on another chapter now too, so expect that soon. Reviews of this one would be great because I'm not sure if I made the conflict clear enough. Also, I know the title of this chapter is lame. Don't judge me! Love you all!