Sacrifices

Rohan was preparing for the wintering times. Villagers were repairing houses and buildings the best they could to stop the chilled winter winds from blowing through. Food was being collected and stored in root cellars to keep decay from taking over what little had been scrounged. In the stables the horses were being tended too and a large supply of hay was being stockpiled for them during the dark months. The Rohirrim cherished their horses as much as men and it was said that the royal horses indeed had it better then the villagers of Edoras.

Eomer, and Eowyn had helped lead their people back to some form of balance after the war. Now Eowyn was with her intended in Ithilien bringing her nobility and grace to those of that far land; and the rule of Rohan rested on his shoulders. He was ascending the throne at a young age, younger then most kings of the Mark. No one was there to guide him in being King; he had to learn from his memories of Théoden. There were lots of times Eomer remembered about how Théoden King had wisely led his country through difficult times; but he feared he would not be able to do the same. He could command armies of men, leading them into battle; but he was having a difficult time leading thousands in everyday life! He was thankful that he had Eothain, Erkenbrand, and Elfhelm to help counsel him during the transition and beyond. Yet there was something missing in the Golden Hall of Meduseld, the presence of a royal woman.

His advisors had mentioned that he should take a queen soon, to replace the White Lady of Rohan’s absence. There was already a female presence at the Golden Hall, but it was not what Rohan or Eomer needed. He cursed himself daily for ever agreeing to allow the unwelcome wench into his household. She was the daughter of a soldier that had fallen in battle at the first conflict at Isen; when his beloved cousin and rightful heir to Rohan’s throne had died. This woman had brazenly come to his uncle asking to be taken care of until word came of her fiancé who was away fighting. Théoden was still under the power of evil and it had been Eowyn that had decided to take on this pathetic creature. The White Lady was in need of company and she thought that Creirwy would make the dark days more tolerable. It had been Eowyn’s and Théoden’s agreement, not his! And when it became obvious that this creature was extending her claws farther then even Wormtongue ever thought about Eowyn he believed lost and the king was dead. Only out of grief to honor the memory of his sister he allowed Creirwy to stay.

Things were going well enough for his people it seemed, but Meduseld’s household was slowly devouring his sanity. Creirwy had taken over Eowyn’s domestic tasks and for a few days it seemed like it would work out in his favor, but as luck seemed ever against him the days in the Golden Hall began to grow dark. Creirwy questioned him at every turning since he had become king. She had ordered deeds done in his name that he had had to repeal immediately before civil unrest broke out. Creirwy had attempted to turn the elders of the villages against him when she grew angry at him for rebuking her in front of the other servants. Recently she had dared to slip into his private chambers to seduce him during the night. But what finally broke the king’s patients was when she took possession of his mother’s clothes and jewels; that were his sister’s by right while Eowyn was healing. Then she told everyone that Eomer had given them to her as a wedding gift and that Rohan had a new Queen. Her lies were no longer going to be tolerated he thought to himself as he escaped into the early morning air; too plagued by other matters of state to deal with the harpy this morning.

The air had a hint of chill in it and the king could see his breath in the air. He looked down from the balcony at the villagers beginning their morning routines. Today he would be among them, helping them with their tasks. Making sure that everything was coming along to plan. Then the next day he would set ride to Dol Amroth; to wed Prince Imrahil’s daughter Lothiriel. He cringed as he imagined the response that would get out of Creirwy; for now she did not know of the king’s plan and hopefully she would be gone by the time Lothiriel returned to take up residency in Edoras.

His mind turned to his people. He had delegated tasks to various men in his service; Erkenbrand was now the Marshal of the West-Mark, Elfhelm Marshal of the East-Mark and he was also looking into reinstating a group of elders in the villages. The king knew that enemies; though diminished, still stalked upon the plains of Rohan and that he would be called out to fight them as well as ride with Aragorn into battle with those that harmed Gondor. He would be taking his marshals with him at times so someone would have to stay behind and govern from the Golden Hall. He had wished that Eowyn would have stayed in the kingdom, but she had other business to attend and the fact remained that Rohan did need a queen to take the place of the White Lady. This would be Lothiriel’s duty; to govern when he was gone and to replace his sister’s absence to the villagers. He wondered if she was up to the task, was he up to the task?

“My lord you seem lost in thought,” a familiar voice said beside him.

Eomer did not realize that Eothain had followed him onto the balcony of the Golden Hall. His friend focused his gaze on the busy villagers below him and their ever moving forms.

“Eothain?” Eomer became aware of his surroundings again.

“It is I my king, what brings you out this morning?”

“Thoughts,” was all the king said as he followed Eothain’s eyes to gaze at his people.

“And what thoughts cloud the king’s mind that makes him oblivious to his surroundings? That is not a good habit to fall into Eomer.” Eothain was trying to gently tell him that he should get himself and his thoughts under control before trouble arose in the Golden Hall.

“They say that you have not slept and you barely eat or drink of late. You roam the halls and burial mounds by night. I know that things are difficult right now, but you must pull yourself together; if not for yourself then for your people. They need a king that is not constantly punishing himself for events that were out of his control.”

“You think it is guilt?” The king raised his voice to his old friend! If only Eothain knew of the torment he had to endure in his own household right now he would not say it was guilt, but survival. He took his meals at Gamling’s house to avoid the potions that Creirwy often placed into his food. As for sleep, he was not use to sleeping in a soft bed so the floor or ground was fine with him.

“I think it is your stubbornness conflicting with your duties and your heart. Let it out, grieve and then get on with your life Eomer. No one wants a king in your condition.” Eothain was exasperated as he spoke. Nothing seemed to be getting through to his friend that the path he was on was spiraling downward.

After what seemed like an age of silence the king spoke, “You are right Eothain; my people need me fit and capable of rule. My heart is heavier since Eowyn has left Edoras. She was the calm to my storm even though I did not see the storm raging inside her. I would have made things different if I had known her heart then.”

“And you say it is not guilt,” Eothain had placed his cards on the table. “She has weathered the storm; much better then you have my friend.” He placed his hand on the king’s shoulder and squeezed. “There are many things you have to look forward to my lord; does not that give you heart? Even as I walked up to you I noticed a softer countenance on your face.”

Eomer was thinking about Lothiriel again as Eothain had stepped beside him. He had been doing that a lot in the past few months. When stress got too much for him he would slip outside and think back to the first time he had seen her. It was the eve of his uncle’s burial. She was with her brothers; having just arrived in the Golden Hall and a joyous family reunion was taking place. At first he felt a ting of pain in his heart to see relatives reunited, knowing he would never be given that chance again but then the smile on her face of seeing her family ran any thought of sorrow away.

Eomer was sad and burdened but her father’s speech had given him heart. Then she came up, radiating warmth, charm and beauty. She literally for a moment took away his gloom and what a moment it was. A moment of reflection and his mind was at peace! Eowyn had noticed the change of mood in her brother’s countenance as well when Lothiriel was in his presence and that brought a smile to her face; seeing her brother happy. Out of sisterly concern Eowyn had attempted to put the princess of Dol Amroth in her brother’s presence as much as possible that night, but Lothiriel was not cooperating; much to Eomer’s displeasure.

The king’s blank stare convinced Eothain that he needed reminded of the positives that were happening in Rohan since he became king. “The people are beginning to prosper, the provisions from Belfalas will arrive shortly which will stave off hunger in Rohan until the spring, you sister marries the man she loves, and you yourself will be married by the end of the year.”

The slight smile that the king allowed showed Eothain that he had gotten through to his friend, at least somewhat. “Or do you wish for more war and battle over calm and peace?”

It had been hard for Eomer to remove himself from the warrior that had been his constant visage since his youth. He was not sure that he would ever be able to separate it from his new life; but he had to try for the sake of Rohan.

“You speak truly as always my friend. I have already begun to prepare for the journey to Dol Amroth to bring back the princess. We leave in two days.” The king was set in his words.

“We?” This was news to Eothain.

“Yes, you will be riding with me and an eored to Minas Tirith. There we will visit the King of Gondor. Aragorn has agreed to accompany us to Dol Amroth. Erkenbrand will remain behind to govern with Gamling as his counselor.”

Eothain could not refuse his king. “I will be ready to ride in two days my lord.” He bowed to Eomer and then left the king to his thoughts.

Eomer’s thoughts again turned from the present to a not too distant past and too more pleasant thoughts; his bride to be. From what he had heard from her father and brothers she was well versed in ruling a large kingdom; her and her brother had been ruling Dol Amroth since their father had ridden with him to aid Gondor. And from what he had observed himself she was amazingly beautiful. Some said that the blood of elves ran through her veins.

There had not been much time for idle chat along the war roads but when that pleasantry did come he enjoyed hearing Amrothos and Erchirion talk about their days on the beaches. They had painted a vivid picture of Belfalas and Dol Amroth with its beaches and ships and exotic trade goods; things he had never heard of before and could not imagine. Realizing now that he had become curious about the southwestern part of Gondor he was anxiously waiting for the journey to begin. Even though he was conflicted at every point in his life and it seemed the warrior would never leave him his adventurous spirit was longing for something other then war.

Barely four months ago was Imrahil in Rohan working out a deal for trade to come into the kingdom from Belfalas. Eomer was certain that his good friend knew that he had his heart set on his daughter and he wasted no time; there was no use to be shy in his request war had destroyed formalities. Imrahil was all too ready to tell him everything ending with the words he hoped to hear, “She is not taken my friend. It would be an honor if you took her hand.”

After negotiations Imrahil returned to Dol Amroth to tell his daughter of her marriage to the King of Rohan. Eomer did not know what Lothiriel’s reaction had been; but if she was like his sister he knew it had been very vocal. It did not give him heart that she had managed to avoid him after that brief encounter the remainder of her stay in Edoras. He was nervous about taking a foreign bride to begin with. How would his people welcome an outsider? But not knowing if she willingly or not came to be the queen was torture!

“My king,” the voice said breathlessly from running. “What madness is this?” The voice was the shrill pitch of an angry female. “You can not possibly be thinking of taking a foreign princess as queen of the Mark!” The voice never lost its shrill tone. “I am the only queen here my king.” She threw herself at him but he managed to move. She caught his leg and held tight

With all the things he must deal with and confront this was not one of them. He had hoped that the harpy would not find out about his riding until after he was gone and he had had her removed from Edoras. He had thought about Aldburg as a final home for Creirwy but that was still too close to Edoras for his comfort. Now it looked like she herself was going to make the king’s choice easy.

“You the queen? YOU THE QUEEN? Who is the king then for I certainly did not marry you! As for me taking a bride from Gondor that is none of your concern wench!”

He hated this creature that had taken so much from his sister’s hospitality! She had deceived them all and he was no longer going to allow her presence to be in the Golden Hall, not even Edoras. There was no place far enough away he could send this bitch, but he was going to send her away tonight. Even if it took a host of eored to drag her kicking and screaming out of Edoras!

She purred as she crawled up his leg, not heeding anything that he had said. “You promised to make me queen Eomer.” She was whining now.

“I promised nothing to you. I have allowed you to live under my roof long enough! Eowyn does not want your company and Edoras will soon have no need of it.” He pushed her away.

”Pack you belongings Creirwy; you are no longer a welcome guest here or in Edoras. Go home; wherever that may be I care not. By nightfall you will not be in Edoras upon penalty of forfeiture of land or life.” He had never talked to a woman in such a manner before but to him Creirwy was no woman, she was a parasite that drew the life out of its hosts slowly. Then he noticed what she was wearing and his temper flared!

“That is NOT FOR YOU!” He yanked the pendent from her neck; the silk cord giving easily to his strong hand. “Much too long have you taken what is not yours. GET OUT!”

Her eyes grew wide at his order to have her removed from his sight, his house, his seat of power! “EOMER! How dare you?” He saw the animal come out in her as she lunged for him. Her fingernails making contact with his chest ripping his tunic and leaving four long red streaks. “You have given me permission to dwell in the Golden Hall with you! I AM THE QUEEN!” She was angry and was ranting it to herself.

“I granted you permission out of the memory of my sister; she lives and does not want your company. There is no reason for you to stay here any longer. Go find word of your fiancé, or is that a lie too?” The king had wrestled her hands down to her sides and held them there. For a woman she had incredible strength when she was in one of her moods.

Creirwy’s face turned blood red. She knew she had been caught and the look and tone of the king’s face and voice told her that violence would only come if she stayed. Attempting to save grace she stopped struggling and asked the king to let her go. He gladly did so and she quickly walked away. However she stopped short and addressed the king.

“You do not know what a mistake you make Eomer of the Mark! Your days will not be restful; the peace you desire for your kingdom will never be as long as you forsake me. Your precious bride will never walk through the door of Meduseld! I will kill her myself before your eyes! You will regret this Eomer King!” She attempted to leave but two guards caught her. They had been charged to follow her wherever she roamed, now they had concluded their task.

The tallest guard spoke, “You majesty, what shall we do with her?” Creirwy struggled to get free from their hold.

“She has attacked the king.” Her marks on his chest were now oozing blood. “;And did you not hear the words she just spoke?” He knew that the guards had heard everything.

“Yes your majesty, she threatened not only you but your kingdom and the life of the princess of Dol Amroth as well. That itself would cause a political upheaval. I think that would mark her as a traitor.”Again the tallest guard spoke while looking smugly at the captive.

“So it would Anon. Lock up the traitor in the prison of Aldburg. They have long been out of use and she will find them quiet comfortable, being set up like the Golden Hall themselves.” The king’s judgment was law and Creirwy knew she had no hope; at least no hope as of now.

The last he saw of her the guards were taking her away to load her on a cart to Aldburg. She fought them unmercifully, but it did not matter they were stronger and she was finally gone from the king’s life. He hoped that there would never be another Creirwy in Rohan and reminded himself to send word to Eowyn that their bane was locked up in Aldburg's prison.