Sacrifices

At the beginning of the third week of Ringare Eomer and his eored were ready to ride. The king had planed twelve days to reach Dol Amroth; with the winter coming speed was a necessity. They would camp four nights on the road before reaching Minas Tirith. The first night would bring him and his men to Aldburg, the king’s former home. Heading from Aldburg they would next camp inside the border of Gondor, along the Mering Stream in Firien Wood. He heard that Aragorn had set up an outpost garrisoned with 30 men and weapons near the stream; he hoped that the Gondor soldiers would be helpful to his men when they camped. The next two nights would be spent in the shadows of the beacons Erelas and Amon Din. By the setting of the sun on the fifth day they would arrive at Minas Tirith.

The horses were ready for the ride. A normal walking pace for the common horse would get the horse and rider four miles in an hour; the descendents of the Maeras could double any normal horse’s speed. Taking the horses at a trot with frequent rests along the North-South road would get the riders 18 miles in an hour. Eomer had hopes of traveling up to 70 miles or more a day while the weather was fair and there was plenty of fresh water and food for the horses. He was not sure of the conditions he would find for the horses or his men after they passed Minas Tirith so he wished to make up time on the first leg of the trip.

Firefoot was awaiting his master in the stables, he could sense his master’s mood as Eomer mounted. It was not the familiar emotions of war the magnificent grey stallion felt, nor was it the jovial exercise feeling; this was something different. Firefoot felt saddened for the king, he seemed weighed down with burden and cares. What ever was wrong with his master it would be his duty to carry him safely to the end of his journey. Wherever that might be. He proudly galloped out of the stables and down the long winding road to the foot of Edoras. There one hundred and twenty men were awaiting the king, Eothain among them. The king addressed his company.

“My friends we make haste to Minas Tirith not to do battle with the enemies of the free peoples but to rejoice in the prosperity that has fallen now that King Elessar and his bride rule Gondor.” Eomer was proud that he and the king had drawn swords together for freedom.

“Some of you have volunteered to stay the wintering months in Gondor to help strengthen the forces; you have my deepest honor and respect. Be assured that your families will be taken care of in your absence.” He did not like to see families separated so soon after war, but there were not enough provisions for all the men to stay in Edoras. Sending them into various parts of Gondor where trade with the southwest was more frequent would ease the burden of feeding so many during the winter.

The king continued, “the rest will ride with me and King Aragorn Elessar to Dol Amroth where you will be among the first Rohirrim to meet the new Queen of the Mark, the daughter of our great friend Prince Imrahil. I do not need to remind you heathens to be on your best behavior.” He trusted his men completely in battle and affairs of the state, but they were an uncouth lot compared to the more gentle Gondorians. He could not help but laugh at the thoughts of drunken brawls and bawdy tales that his men were oft to get into.

“Now we ride for the future of Rohan!”

It had been many weeks since he had properly exercised Firefoot himself and now the horse and rider were yearning to make up for lost times. The king in front with Eothain urged Firefoot on at an all out run; the rest of the Mearas followed their leader. As the sun went down on the first night they had not yet reached Aldburg, as the moon was large in the sky they finally arrived.

The townspeople were not expecting their king and no one greeting them as they came into the street and filed up to the old seat of power. The king was home, however it did not seem like he had ever lived there. Those memories were far away now, and were replaced with a nervousness that something was out of place in the hall. Something he could not figure out.

As the men ate and drank a familiar face appeared at the hall door, it was Anon. The king dismissed himself and went to speak to his old guard.

“The lady Creirwy has been placed in the prison underneath the hall my lord.” Eomer now knew why there was nervousness, he did not trust Creirwy at all and now she was staying at the seat of his command before he became king.

Aldburg was a sacred place to him and his people and this filth was defiling it with her presence. But there was nothing he could do about it; he had ordered her locked up at Aldburg. It seemed like a good idea considering the stress he was under when he commanded it; now it was causing him more stress. He feared she would harm the place somehow.

Anon continued, “for the past two nights she has been heard singing and mumbling words that no one can comprehend, her moods have gotten violent since she learned that you were on your way here and had finally arrived at Aldburg. I fear she may harm herself my lord, what is your command?”

“Keep her quite and keep her comfortable, but do not under any circumstances allow her to roam freely through the prison cells. Confine her to her own cell and chain her to the wall if you fear she may harm herself during one of her moods. I have washed my hands of her Anon. No longer will she haunt my steps and attempt to stab me and Eowyn in the back; she deserves worse then imprisonment but I have no time to deal with her.” Eomer was speaking the truth, he had no time right now to deal with Creirwy but his heart was softening. Even though she was still a vile creature she was a woman that along with the rest of Rohan had suffered much during the war.

“If I did not fear that she could cause harm to the queen I would not have banished her from Edoras; I would have found another opportunity for her. Everyone has suffered enough as is but some people you just can not reach. When she accosted me on the balcony that morning her mood frightened me; I knew then she had to go if Lothiriel was to have peace in the Golden Hall. I might have made it worse on the queen by not banishing her completely from Rohan, but I am not cruel. Her home is in the Mark and she will be allowed to remain; but she will be imprisoned for the time.”

“My king you are just. I will tell her in the morning after you have left.” He started to leave but Eomer stopped him.

“She is cunning Anon; do not fall under her charms. I will not suffer traitors to me, my queen or my men to live.” With that warning he let the guard go back to his prisoner while he himself went to find rest in his old bed.

Unlike Meduseld, Aldburg was divided into several rooms instead of one long hall. He removed his traveling clothes and slipped under the covers. The bed had not been changed in a while but it was softer then the earth or floor, although it did not smell as fresh as the earth. After his talk with Anon he felt less nervous. Trying to relax his travel worn body and mind he began to think of the fair princess of Dol Amroth. Their union would bring peace and prosperity to Rohan but being a man his thoughts soon strayed into lustful images of his bride to be and himself. With a smile on his face he went to sleep taking comfort in the surroundings.

The next day the sun was shining but a cold wind was blowing over the Eastfold. If all went as planned they would be camping inside the border of Gondor tonight along the Mering Stream in the Firien Wood. The wood was rich in Rohan history but haste was of the essence. The king made a mental note to himself to show Lothiriel some of the deeper parts of the forest when time allowed and tell her the tale of the great boar that haunted the woods long ago.

The rumor had been true, Aragorn had set up an outpost along the woods and the Gondorian soldiers greeted the Horselords as brothers. Food and drink were merry and lasted late into the night. Finally Eomer passed out from drink; Firefoot woke him an hour before the sun rose. Eomer, knowing his horse, knew that it was out of spite for not paying attention to him during the evening and letting a young Gondorian squire take care of his grooming and rest.

During the third day of the trip Eomer and Eothain could not shake the feeling that they were being followed; every night’s watch had yielded nothing but quiet, every day the scouts reported nothing ahead. The Firien outpost had seen nothing out of the ordinary; but still the feeling would not leave the battled weary warriors. They carried little with them besides provisions and daily needs. The weapons they had were their trusted swords, bows, and shields. Eomer did not expect to have to come to blows with enemies along the road; it was well protected, but the feeling would not leave.

The third night came and the group found themselves camping under the beacon of Erelas. The mood again was jovial with stories, songs and drink flowing thanks to the kindness of the Firien outpost that had supplied them with enough ale to last till they reached Minas Tirith. Eomer was still too nervous from his feelings of being followed to join in the merriment. It was Elfhelm that dragged his king into the middle of the party.

“My king,” he said drunkenly. “Why do you stare out into the night? There has been nothing reported day or night, come enjoy your last ride of freedom,” here the eored laughed. Elfhelm had already offered the king a tankard of Gondorian ale and the king had to accept to save dignity in front of his men. But the king was going to have to save much more dignity before the night was over.

Eomer did not see the humor in Elfhelm’s words, “his last ride of freedom.” He would still ride out to protect his people and their livelihood from foes. Aragorn and he would draw swords together again many times in the name of freedom. What did Elfhelm mean this would be his “last ride of freedom.”? His question was answered soon enough.

“A toast!” Elfhelm was up and toasting the king before Eomer could take the first sip.

“To Eomer King of the Mark and his last nights and days of bachelorhood! May the wenches in Minas Tirith keep his tankard and his bed filled before he goes to his doom?” Elfhelm could not keep from swaying back and forth as he spoke. Eomer pushed his friend and he fell to the ground spilling his ale. The men laughed harder at seeing their ringleader go down.

“Friend Elfhelm I do not see my up coming marriage as a doom. Some of you have seen her have you not?” The men answered with yeas to their king.

“Is she not beautiful, a curvaceous creature with just the right amount of flesh to hold tight during the night?” The king made a thrusting motion with his hips after he spoke.

“Is there one that would believe having that beautiful creature in my bed nightly is a doom?” Here the men answered with many nays. “I will have her bedded before our Rohirric wedding night that I promise you my good fellows! She will never take my freedom, that is something that the Men of Rohan cherish above all else. Her freedom will be spent with the heirs to the throne.” The men roared to the king’s words.

Eomer was releasing steam in front of his men, but was unaware of the disrespect he was showering on his bride to be. His men expected their leader to be a womanizing whore that put the queen in her place. Tonight he would give them what they wanted.

“Would you say that being of the weaker, gentler sex that she would be able to prevent me from riding out in freedom when ever I wished?” Again the men answered with nays.

“Then Elfhelm why do you say this is my last ride of freedom? Just because I will have a wife does not mean that my swords must stay in one place.” The king laughed at his last statement as the men broke out in wild laughter and song. He felt that he had saved his dignity enough for the night, he refrained from mentioning the queen again as he joined in the drink and songs.

The only one that did not participate in the king’s merriment was Eothain who was too shocked at hearing the disrespectful words the king had spoken about the soon to be queen. When they had been in the privacy of Eomer’s own chamber at Edoras the king had nothing but sweetness and respect to speak for the woman who would be Rohan’s queen.

Eothain was talking to himself as he walked away from the company. “Eomer was even daring enough to call her his lover and helpmate, without even knowing her heart.”

Eothain was upset with himself because he believed that his friend had finally settled down in his ways; even though they were not wild ways to begin with. He had even gone so far as to think that Eomer truly was in love with Lothiriel and held her in the utmost respect! Shaking his head he went to keep watch as the others partied; sad that he had thought his king capable of loving someone else other then himself, Firefoot or his sister. He pitied the Belfalas princess tonight; but the king did say something true. Lothiriel was beautiful and it would be an honor to have someone as sweet and cherished as herself in his bed at night. “In my bed,” Eothain said out loud.

Looking into the empty night Eothain vowed that if the king mistreated Lothiriel he would be there for her; mending the wrongs Eomer had done. Making the foreign princess feel welcomed and loved in Edoras. He had kept his feelings of admiration for her quiet once he saw Eomer’s look of lust toward her at Théoden’s funeral. He had put all hope of getting to know the exotic swan away once the king had decided to marry her. He kept his heart locked now. Anger rose in him as he thought back on the times the king had made him believe that he loved the princess when he only was stroking his own ego! Now a beautiful person inside and out was going to be given as a sacrificial offering to a brute! But this brute was his best friend! His conflict grew in him so; he did not hear Eomer behind him.

“Eothain, what brings you away from the fire?” To his surprise Eomer was not drunk; which only added more malice to what he felt toward the king. He could understand the disrespect if the king had been drinking, but Eomer was sober!

Anger eating at him he could no longer hold in his feelings he let lose a barrage of profanity and curses toward the king! Confused Eomer stood silently as Eothain spilled his thoughts.

“So Lothiriel is just a beauty to serve you when you feel the need to bed someone! Weaker and gentler sex she may be but she will not stay that way long under your roof! The swan will become stronger and hardened by your ill treatment. How dare you get off on disrespecting her?”

Eomer was still silent.

“How dare you take a swan and choke all life and vitality out of her? To take her freedom by keeping her with child to where her life is slowly consumed in a cage. Does that sound familiar my king? ”

Eothain was shaking now and Eomer was still too shocked to respond. “You would sacrifice the princess of Dol Amroth, the daughter of your friend for your own gain. You do not deserve her, you never did! What could you know of love and respect for a woman of Lothiriel’s status? You did not even respect your sister enough to let her have a life!” Here Eothain had gone too far; that he could clearly see in Eomer's eyes but he continued.

“Eowyn wanted to die for fame and glory from you. You let her too, to egotistical in your ways to see her heart. You told me once that if you had known her heart you would have made things different. You lied then and you lie now, your sister will forgive you; I do not think Imrahil and his sons will be so forgiving knowing that you desire their sister in the way you proclaimed! She deserves much better then the King of the Horselords! She should be married to a prince of Gondor; not a brute that disrespects her. She should live her life in the land of her birth surrounded by the things that give her comfort. What will you give her? A nightly screwing to make sure she stays with child and does not interfere with your freedom?” He was not even close to finished but Eomer had had enough, with one well placed punch he knocked Eothain out cold.

It was early morning when Eothain woke from his stupor; Eomer was standing over him and yanked him up off the ground.

“Listen well Eothain,” the king hissed at him. “Never speak to me in the manner you did last night or I will not be so kind next time!” He let him go.

“I never believed nor do I believe that Lothiriel is something for me to take when I need my bed filled. She shall have the freedom she needs I will never force her into a cage! I never will disrespect that glorious woman that will be my wife Eothain! You speak of what you know nothing of my friend and I warn you to keep your tongue to yourself.”

In a calmer mood the king walked toward his friend and Eothain cowered before him. “I can not be angry at you for I know how I must have come across last night by the fire. Men joke when drunk and I did not mean disrespect for my wife. The words spoken in private to you are truth. Last night you showed me the error of my ways. I respect the princess of Dol Amroth and have confessed to you and my sister my intent to make her life as happy as possible. But I caution you friend, do not come between me and Lothiriel. I can only show you how I feel toward the princess since my words have so grievously wounded you. Do not follow the path you spoke of last night, she will need no man to catch her as her brutish husband shuns her and values his freedom more then her own. That situation will never happen Eothain.”

The king left his friend to get ready for the days ride. He had been beyond angry at him last night but after thinking back on his words he knew why Eothain would be upset. However he did not know the feelings Eothain harbored for Lothiriel; Eomer had heard much of his friend’s conversation to himself before he made his presence known. A rival from Gondor the king could deal with; but his own friend and a trusted one at that he could not. Eothain solidified the fact that Eomer needed to work hard to make Lothiriel’s transition to Rohan easy and her life peaceful. He now feared that she was sought after by too many men for him to mess this up. The Mark needed a queen and she would fill the void nicely. He would not mess this up.