Éomer x OC - Deep down chapter 10
The young king of Rohan is still trying to get used to his new life after the Great War and is just learning how to rule a country. Following his council’s advice he decided to marry a young noble born Lady that seems to be a perfect match for him and a great Queen material. A coldly calculated political move. But what if his decision had some hidden, egoistic motives to it? And what if the lady already gave her heart away to someone who is far away? Let’s find out together. Let’s dive deep down inside both of their minds.
Chapter 9 | Masterlist
Éomer was saved from having to confront both his sister and himself by endless clothes fittings and other wedding related trivialities. Ever since the interrupted conversation with his sister he felt a weird uneasiness that he could not name. He tried to ignore it but he felt his body getting restless and tense.
He most definitely noticed that with every passing hour he got more and more irritated. Everybody seemed to be having a long list of carefully prepared questions in a way that would annoy him the most. Wasn’t it all supposed to be organised by the assigned council? Why were they bothering him with all this nonsense? He had more important things on his mind!
But even the things that laid well within his competencies were irritating him much. Everyone seemed so unprepared. He couldn’t tell if he was more embarrassed by the level of chaos the local court presented or ashamed of how disorganized his own people seemed to be.
His irritation OF COURSE had nothing to do with how nervous he was getting as today he was to finally meet again with Lady Nartíhl. He was not nervous. Not at all! And anyone who would dare to suggest such a thing… well they would be punished somehow, Éomer would find a way to get such thoughts out of their head.
Why was he even thinking about this? What was he thinking about? Well, he definitely was not thinking about the mining development plan that was presented to him. Yet again he drifted away during a meeting. - Do I bore you, your highness? - asked the man who was trying to explain the local mining system to his future king.
- No, of course not, this is fascinating. - Éomer ran his hand through his face and sighed. He tried to sound convincing but it turned out rather sarcastic.
The other man seemed pretty abashed and as the atmosphere was getting more and more tense, lord Dúngar decided to step in and save the day, by saying: - Maybe we shall postpone the session, what do you say, my king? We will gladly listen to the rest of your work later. - he gave a half smile and nodded to the man standing in front of them
- Yes, maybe we should.
Éomer stood up promptly not leaving much room and time for any courtesy and stormed out of the room visibly irritated.
***
Éomer went straight to his chamber and started to undress himself. He felt a need to wash himself and change his clothes. Suddenly everything about his look was unsatisfying to him, even his hair. He had no idea why. Surely not because he was about to attend the final marriage contract negotiation in which lady Nartíhl would take part and could see him closely. It definitely had nothing to do with all of this.
His personal servant stormed into the room soon after him, visibly tired and short of his breath after having chased his master through the hallway. - My lord - the young man tired to ask between sharp breaths - why such a hurry?
- I need to change my clothes - replied the King while trying to untie the strings in his shirt.
- Let me help you, my lord - the servant rushed to help the king undo the ties. - No need to rush, we still got some time. I’ve been thinking what you should wear for today’s meeting for the whole day, my lord, so you would impress everybody.
- I am a king and I do not need to impress any one, especially not with my look - Éomer scolded the servant angrily, barely restraining himself from raising his voice. - I am sure our hosts are not this shallow to judge us by our clothing and garments.
Who are you trying to fool, Éomer? He did not believe these worlds himself. Yet he refused to admit that and let all those feelings sink in.
-Please forgive me, my lord. This is not what I meant.
- I know, I know. Just bring these clothes over.
So he allowed to be dressed in some fancy clothes and have a fancy hairstyle done. Apparently having your hair pinned up was fashionable for men here. He tried to fight so hard the need to fit in with his looks, he was a king, not a teenager trying to fit in. But deep inside he wanted to impress his fiancee. To make her like him even if it would be at least for his looks.
***
Éomer sat in a round room with his council on both sides. The room was pretty cosy - a burgundy tapestry on the walls, a lot of books on the shelves on each wall. A warm afternoon sun glimpsing through the window. It could be almost nice but Éomer could feel his face turning more and more red with every passing second.
Obviously due to the sun and the ridiculous clothes and not because he sure as hell was not stressed to finally meet his Lady.
He rested his chin on his palm and taped fingers of his other hand on the table while waiting for his host to finally show on the final reading and signing of the marital contract.
He tried to calm his mind, so he started to list all the horses he had in his stable. Then he tried to name all of the infantry military formations he knew. The moment he was just about to start listing all his hounds he heard the doors being open. - Our noble lord Idhoril and lady Nartíhl - it was announced.
Éomer and all his men stood up. The young king felt his head spinning, he rested his hand on the table to steady himself but he knew it made him look nonchalant in a bad way. Get yourself together, Éomer, you fool. You're a grown man, a warrior, a KING for Bema’s sake! No matter what you’ll do the deal is practically sealed and she will be your wife, that’s all. Just breathe.
But the breathing part lasted only as long as lord’s Idhoril council and himself were entering the room. At the very end of the cortege was her. Just as beautiful as he remembered. Yet so different.
A simple purple dress that brought up her skin tone. Her long wavy hair pinned up on both her temples with dragonfly-shaped red pines. So serious, yet so youthful. But her face was far from a girly lighthearted expression. She looked tired. Her cheeks sunken, her eyes red and swollen. Like she hasnąt slept in a long time.
But Éomer did not have much chance to contemplate this. Soon after she arrived he felt a subtle yet noticeable scent of flowers and frankincense that made his head spin.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Focus, Éomer. It’s just like on a battlefield, Just shut it all down and focus. You are able to kill, so you are able to listen to your wedding contract being cited. - Your highness. Please let us welcome you. We are honored to host you and your noble court in this fortress - lord Idhoril nodded his head and looked around the table. - It is our honour to be here - Éomer heard his own voice as if someone also said these words - Lady Nartíhl. - he finally dared to look her straight in the eyes and smiled gently.
She looked him shortly in the eyes but shied away and looked down immediately. She grimaced her face in what Éomer assumed was an attempt to smile at him. Starting nice, he thought to himself. - Shall we begin? - Lord Dúngar, standing on Éomer's right, asked. The young king looked around. Everyone was standing awkwardly. What were they waiting for? - Ekhm - lord Dúngar coughed significantly - my king?
Oh! They are waiting for me! - Yes yes, of course. - Éomer sat down and so did the rest. He noticed he was sitting a bit too far away from the table so he tried to push his chair closer but the legs of the chair got stuck on the wooden floor texture and he ended up jumping awkwardly on the chair, causing a very lund thump on the floor and not moving an inch forward. Well, at least Nartíhl looked at him for a moment.
And so the citing has started. No changes, everything as agreed.
When the reading was over Idhoril and one of his advisers signed the document. Then Dúngar. Then Nartíhl. At the end the paper was handed over to Éomer. He noticed how pretty and elaborate Nartíhl’s signature was. Just as could be expected from someone of her upbringing. Similar to what he saw on the Gondorian documents. Even though his uncle made sure he trained his letters a lot when he was a boy (which was a cause of many eager discussions with a raised voice because who had time to train reading and writing if you could just ride your horse and train sword fighting?) he suddenly felt like he barely could write his name down. But he did. He also put his hand down with a fresh ink and smudged Dúngar’s signature a bit and stained his hand with the ink. But it matter not. He was to get married to the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, her lands with all the mines it contained was about to be joined to Rohan and she was about to become his queen. No matter how self conscious he felt he could not help but smirk. His plan worked out.
The contract was signed.
Yet, no one was leaving the table. Éomer just sat there, staring at the document. Lord Idhoril’s advisor must have seen his hesitation. - Is there anything else, your highness? - Yes.. - Éomer wavered - I was wondering if I could get a chance to speak with our dear Lady privately.
He could feel the air in the room turn tense. - Of course not alone - he added. What a stupid custom, he thought to himself. In the riddermark no one would care. They were officially engaged, what would he do to her? But he was aware enough of the local customs. They were supposed to be under surveillance. - Well, what do you think, my dear - lord Idhoril turned to his daughter and asked her. -Of course, my lord. - a shy and shaky voiced answer. - Good. But first let’s dine. I believe we would all appreciate a little rest now. You shall have some time to talk in the evening.
Nartíhl springed out of her seat just as if she was waiting for these words. She nodded her head gently and left the room with two of her servants.
Éomer instinctively stood up and so did everyone else at the table. He traced her down with his eyes trying to fight the amusement growing inside of him. All these months he built up her image as a mighty goddess in his head. But so far she turned out to be a shy young girl. He definitely felt his self-esteem rising.
- Shall we? Chapter 11
TAGLIST:
@konartiste @emmanuellececchi
I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, I hope you havne't completly forgotten about this story! My life got a bit busy for the last few months but I have some chapters ready and I hope it will turn out worth the waiting! After all, they say the messier the writer's life gets, the better the fanfics, right? ;p