The Darker Side of Hope (a Lord of the Rings fanfiction)

Chapter 4- Edoras

Chapter 4- Edoras

As it turned out, Théoden's only son and heir, Théodred had been mortally wounded by Uruks all baring the White Hand of Saruman. Théodred had been brought back to Edoras by Éomer before he had been banished. The King's son had bled to death during the night.

Even in death, the son of the King was handsome. He had long, dark hair and bold jawline; he couldn't have been more than eighteen. We stood aside as the casket was brought forward by several guards. Théoden followed behind his son and we trailed behind him. The path was lined with mourning villagers, but no one seemed as heartbroken as Éowyn and Théoden.

The sky was dark and overcast with shadows; somewhere off in the distance thunder rumbled. We followed the funeral procession outside the city gates to an array of burial mounds. From a distance, they looked like uneven hills and lumps, but these held precious memories. There was one particular burial site that was for the royal family and that was where Théodred would spend the remainder of his days. The platform baring the King's Son was passed down among the guards and lowered into the tomb; never to be seen again. Suddenly Éowyn started to sing. The melody was familiar and grave. She concluded her song with deep, gut-wrenching sob before turning and making her way to Meduseld. We stood for a moment, not sure if we should follow or stay, but Gandalf bid us go back to the Hall. That's what we did.

Aragorn touched my arm and I turned to face him. "I saw your eyes when Gríma spat on me... You wanted to kill him."

A wave of anger swept over me. "Of course I did! No one disrespects my brother! I will defend your honor to my grave."

"You're immortal," he reminded me with a small smile.

"Yes, therefore I will always be defending you, my King," I smirked before following after Legolas and Gimli.

As we reached the Golden Hall, the Officer who confiscated our weapons greeted us. "Thank you for all you have done for Rohan," he smiled gravely. "I believe I have some weapons that belong to you." He led us into the Hall and around bend to the armory. Attentively he handed Gimli his ax and the dwarf couldn't have been happier. Legolas received his bow, quiver, and daggers with a small nod and Aragorn received his sword, dagger, bow, and quiver with an ever-gracious: "Thank you."

My patience was wearing thin.

They're my blades and I want them now!

I smiled expectedly holding my hands out and gesturing to my Eregethian blades on the rack behind the Officer. "Those are mine."

"Your husband allows you to fight beside men?" he asked, his eyes on the ring on my finger. He glanced between Aragorn and I puzzled. 

"Give Lady Lothrayel her blades, lad," Gimli huffed.

"Of course, my apologies," he hesitantly offered my blades and I snatched them from his hand before he could think twice.

"Thank you," I hissed, turning on my heel and storming back into the Hall before realization struck me. I turned to face my brother with wide eyes. "They think you're my husband?"

A smile crept onto his face. "I suppose they do."

We shared a small chuckle before Éowyn entered the room. She looked exhausted and on the brink of tears. "I have heard that you have some wounds that need tending?"

I shot an accusing look at my brother. "I'm fine, thank you."

"She has several wounds that may need treating, lest they bring infection upon her." Aragorn insisted.

Legolas came up behind me, placing a comforting hand on my lower back. "I'll go with you if you need someone."

"Lady Éowyn," I turned to the young woman. "If you would be so kind as to bring the medical equipment you possess, I'm sure Legolas and Aragorn can attend to my wounds."