Faramir Fiction Archive

Éomer: Memories (NC-17)

Written by J_Flattermann

11 November 2011 | 6966 words

Éomer: Memories
Birthday story for rubyelf
Pairing: Éomer/Théodred/Faramir/Aragorn
Genre: Slash
Rating: PG-15 (for this part; NC-17 over all)
Word count: 1054
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. No copyright infringement intended. All characters belong to their legal copyright holders.
Summary: After the war Éomer mourns for Théodred and Faramir stirs up feelings unintentionally
Beta’ed as usual by the lovely ingrid44.

Part 1

The war of the Ring was over. Sauron had been defeated. How they had managed he couldn’t tell. All he felt was this numbness. He had fought and killed without any real awareness of what was going on around him. Now everyone surrounding him was celebrating the victory while he sat at the table alone, a mug of foaming mead freshly refilled standing untouched.
He looked tired as if he hadn’t slept for days. He feared sleeping. Every time he tried the face of his dead cousin appeared behind his closed eyes. Tears welled up and he looked down so no one would see his misery.

The wound was as fresh as the day he had brought the body of his dead cousin back to Meduseld. His late uncle the previous King of Rohan had been angry with him and he was barred from attending the funeral of his only love. Éomer swallowed hard. He tried to lift the mug but his hands were shaking so badly he gave up the attempt.

Seeing King Elessar riding Brego didn’t help either. At times the shape of the king would transform into a much more familiar image. The image of the horse’s former owner, Théodred. Éomer could feel the trickling of a tear as it wound its way down his cheek. A quick brush with the back of his hand and it was gone.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not notice the group of men making their way to his table.

“Please, my Lord, I don’t think it’s a good time.” Fasthelm said, trying to stop the man in front of him. Leonere, Herumer and Garulf rushed to his aid. “Really, Sir, he doesn’t seem to be in the right mood just now; better wait.” However hard the Rohan Captains tried Faramir was not to be stopped. So the four soldiers grabbed him and held him by force.

They immediately created a commotion and even though they failed to attract the attention of the young King of Rohan they did manage to catch the eye and ears of the King of Gondor.

King Elessar walked over to inquire about the ruckus. “Sire, I have to speak to the King of Rohan. It’s a private matter.” Faramir blurted out. Herumer was the next to speak. “King Éomer is not in the mood today, my Lord. He is in mourning. We think he should not be disturbed.” Faramir blushed, suddenly remembering that the former Marshall of Rohan had just lost his uncle. “Oh, I… I…” he stammered and looking down he said. “His uncle was like a father to him, wasn’t he?” King Elessar and the Captains of Rohan nodded simultaneously. King Elessar took Faramir’s arm “You should understand best, my friend, for you have recently lost your own father. Give him some time to grieve. At least for tonight. See what his mood is like tomorrow.” Faramir blushed again. “Yes, I know what it feels like. Father and Boromir, both gone. I am sorry.”

The mention of Boromir’s name hit the King hard. His smile vanished and his eyes grew dull from the sudden rush of emotion as once again the grief of Boromir’s loss hit him. He turned abruptly and left. The men stood staring in awe not understanding what had just occured. The King did not return to his place at the high table but left the hall seeking solitude.

Faramir bit his lips and turned to the Captians. “I didn’t mean to…” he stuttered. The Captains turned about and left him standing alone. Faramir looking down at his boots felt ashamed. “Typical Faramir, head first into deep shit, as usual.” He had to chuckle imagining how his beloved brother would have teased him for this. “A real talent, you have there!” was Boromir’s usual response when he had once again fucked up.

He looked over at Éomer sitting alone at the table and a great sadness came over him. He rushed to catch-up with the Captains and again tried to apologise. “I didn’t think. Um, his loss it’s still fresh. Emotions raw…” “Yep, especially when you lose your loved one.” Leonere said and was punched by his fellows. “What?” Faramir cut in, “What did you say? What do you mean? There was no proof that they were…” Faramir swung a fist at Leonere but Garulf caught his arm. “Listen, our Marshall never kept secrets from us. We all know how he felt about his cousin.” He said.

“His cousin?” Faramir stood flabbergasted, “his cousin! Oh, damn it, I am sorry. I thought you were talking about him and my brother. There were rumours, you know, always rumours. Damn it, I am so sorry. I am such a fool.”

This time King Éomer noticed the furor between his men and the young Steward of Gondor. He got up and walk over. “What’s going on? Fasthelm, what is this all about?” he asked. The Captains bowed low before their king but he waved away their deference. “Captain, report!” he ordered. Fasthelm immediately stood at attention and so did the other Captains. Faramir interupted. “It’s really my fault.” he said. “They were trying to keep me from disturbing your respite. I am sorry, I wanted to talk to you. But I realize this is not the right time. I will come back tomorrow and ask for some of your time then, King Éomer.” “Is this true?” the king inquired of his guard and the men nodded. “Yes, Sire.” Fasthelm finally replied for all.

“So, it must be of some importance then, if you were in such a hurry to speak to me.” Éomer addressed the Steward of Gondor. Faramir again blushed. “Well, it is most definitely to loud in here.” Éomer continued, “This is your home. I assume you know a quiet place where we can talk undisturbed? So, lead on.” He placed his arm around Faramir’s shoulder and the two walked away in the direction of the Steward’s offices.

The Captains stared at each other. “I wonder what’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow.” Garulf said and was kicked by his friends.

Éomer: Memories [part 2]
Pairing: Éomer/Théodred/Faramir/Aragorn
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17 (for this part)
Word count: 1662
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. No copyright infringement intended. ? All characters belong to their legal copyright holders.
Summary: After the war Éomer mourns for Théodred and Faramir stirs up feelings unintentionally.
Beta: ingrid44 with my warmest thanks.

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Part 2

Aragorn had walked out of the hall and stood at the far end of the courtyard staring out towards the Northwest. His mind wandered to the River Anduin near the Falls of Rauros. He envisaged the attack at Parth Galen and how he had found Boromir mortally wounded. Boromir had died in his arms that day and he blamed himself. Over and over he mused of what might have been. What might have happened if Boromir had sounded the horn earlier. What might have happened if he had responded quicker, if there were no Uruks in his path. Would he have reached Boromir sooner? Would he have been able to prevent his death? He believed the answer was Yes.

At the other end of the courtyard Faramir opened the door to his office, lit a candle and invited the young King of Rohan to come in and sit down. Out of a sideboard he produced two glasses and a crystal decanter filled with red wine. He brought them back to the table, filled the glasses and sat down opposite of Éomer.

Éomer inhaled the bouquet of the offered wine but it was Faramir who took the first sip. He had to steady his nerves so he took another sip. He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his thighs. “ My Lord,” he started, “I have just recently inherited the position as the Steward of Gondor and as you might know had been severely wounded.” Again he took a sip and started to cough as the wine went down the wrong way. Éomer waited until the coughing fit ceased. For the moment he was none the wiser. He had no idea where this conversation would lead. However he was willing to wait until Faramir had stated his case.

Aragorn hung his head. Tears stung his eyes. Now that he need not rush to the next battle the memories were tormenting him. Causing him sleepless nights and even affecting his marriage. His wife was very understanding and supportive. T his made him feel even worse. He felt he had no one to talk to. Legolas and Gimli had set off on new adventures. Faramir he couldn’t confide in as the topic was to painful for both of them. Here in Minas Tirith he was constantly confronted with reminders of Boromir and he did not know how to cope. Gandalf found him crouched close to the precipice weeping like a child. He took the king by his arm; pulled him up away from the abyss. Having seen Denethor jumping from this spot evoked the greatest fear for the king’s safety.

He escorted King Elessar back to his quarters and sat him in a chair by the fire. The Queen had sent him out to find her husband. Her Elven instincts had told her that her husband needed someone, preferably a member of the Fellowship to talk to. So there they sat, the king and the old wizard. Aragorn poured out his heart and spoke of his guilty conscience. After Gandalf heard the full account of what had transpired at Parth Galen, he stood and walk over to Aragorn who again had begun to weep violently. “It is not your fault. You did what you could that fateful day.” he said, “I know that it will not console you if I say that it was fate. Nor am I saying that Boromir died to redeem his failure to resist the ring. That ring was pure evil. It tempted many.” He looked down at the sobbing king. “I truly believe that Boromir had the best intentions at heart. He believed if he could bring the ring to Gondor something good would have resulted. The only mistake he made, and it is a very human mistake at best, was that he underestimated the power of the ring.”

The old wizard bent down and patted the king’s shoulder. “He didn’t deserved to die. True. However you were in the midst of a battle yourself. So were Legolas and Gimli. From you accounts I take it that you were quite some distance away when you heard the horn and immediately you made your way to join Boromir. No my friend, this death does not fall on your shoulders. You are not to blame and I will go even further and say that it would grieve Boromir deeply to see you in such a state.” The old wizard walk over to the door and opened it. Outside stood the queen with a tray in her hands. Food and drink were on the tray. The old wizard smiled at her, “Go to your husband my child,” he said. “He needs you and your wisdom.” With these words the wizard shut the door behind the queen and left.

Faramir finally stopped coughing. He continued, picking up the thread of his previous statement “Being wounded I was at the house of healing. I had to spend quite some time there as you might know. It was while there that I met her. Your sister, Éowyn.” Éomer nodded but remained silent. He was wondering where this strange conversation was heading but now had a faint idea that it involved his sister.
“Um, and it’s about her why I wanted to speak to you.” Faramir took another sip. “There, now I’ve said it.” he declared. “I would like your permission to court her. I want to marry her.” He uttered the last words as if they were choking him. Éomer gave as small smile. “It is not for me to decide, you know. You have my blessing thou, Steward of Gondor. But remember she is a Princess and her brother a King. I don’t know what she will make of this, but if she loves you it will not matter.” Faramir nodded. “I already thought about that.” he said, “My king, King Elessar has given me his blessing as well. He said if she agrees to marry me, he will make me Prince of Ithilien. If this helps.” Suddenly the young Gondorian looked very miserable. Éomer stood and walked over, patted his back and said “Chin up, I think she likes you already. But you have to find out for yourself if she loves you as well. Sorry, chap, I can’t help you with this.” And with these words he left the Steward alone in the office.

Éomer looked over to the Great Hall where the festivities was still on going. He heard the laughter and the singing. Suddenly he felt he could not return to the crowd. He walked away over to the other end of the courtyard and soon found himself at the edge of the precipice. The same precipice where shortly before Aragorn had stood. Éomer looked down into the abyss. He had heard of the manner of Denethor’s death, the father of both Boromir and Faramir. A shudder went through him at the thought that the old Steward had jumped from here. Suicide was strictly against his beliefs. A warrior had to die in combat to be allowed to join the ancestors in the Great Hall. There King Théoden and most important of all Théodred would be waiting, when he met them again. Nothing in this world would make him jeopardise his chances to rejoin his beloved Théodred.

His mind wandered again to happier days when he and Théodred spent time together. They had spoken about death. Often! However it was always their fear that he Éomer would be the first to die. His responsibility had been the Mordor frontier. Théodred frequently mentioned his worry knowing that even routine patrols would bring Éomer close to the Enemy’s front line.

Another smile appeared on Éomer’s face. He suddenly remembered when Théodred stayed at Aldburg to be instructed in warfare and strategy. He only wished his uncle had sent his cousin over sooner, then maybe Théodred would have been better prepared for the battle at the Fords of Isen and with a slim chance, survived. Éomer shook his head. These were mind games, these ‘What if’s’ did not change anything apart from making him depressed and morbid.

The queen sat next to her husband. She handed him a glass of red wine. “Drink.“she said, “drink this.” She softly stroked a stray strand of hair out of his face. His face was flushed and blotchy, his eyes swollen. She took him in her arms rocking him like a small child. “I know,” she whispered, “I know you miss him. We all do. Not in quite the same way of course.” He remained silent. “Estel? Talk to me. Please!” she said, “You know me, I understand. I am not jealous nor am I about to make a scene. I am an Elf, you know we think differently. You were raised with us. I know. I understand these things. You need male company. Don’t misunderstand, I know Boromir can’t be replaced. But remember I have two brothers who also love you dearly, they would be only to happy to help. If you would just ask them. Or would you prefer if I was to ask them?”

The king looked at his queen and suddenly grabbed her and kissed her hard. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you.”

Éomer sat in his room by the window on the upper level of Minas Tirith, overlooking the courtyard. Tomorrow they would return to Pelenor Fields and recover King Théoden’s remains to take back to Edoras. Éomer had ordered the remains be buried in the Kings vault next to Théodred’s tomb. He personally would oversee the transport back and the remaining Eoreds would form an honour guard for the dead king. Tomorrow he would visit his sister and see if she wished to accompany him back to Edoras. He was curious. Had Faramir spoken to her already?

Fic: Éomer: Memories
Pairing: Éomer, King of Rohan/Théodred and Faramir
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1492 (excluding the words of the two songs which are JRR Tolkien’s)
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. No copyright infringement intended. ? All characters belong to their legal copyright holders.
Summary: After the war Éomer mourns for Théodred and Faramir stirs up feelings unintentionally
Beta: My good friend ingrid44 thank you for your contribution.

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Part 3

The next morning Éomer went to visit his sister. Éowyn was still recuperating in the House of Healing. He made his way across the courtyard on the uppermost level of Minas Tirith. He was halfway there when he saw Faramir coming out of the house he meant to enter. The look on the Gondorian’s face was sad and Éomer decided to follow him. The two men met right in front of the door to Faramir’s office. Faramir only noticed Éomer’s presence when the men stood face to face.

Faramir was surprised to see the future King of Rohan appearing so suddenly before him. “I was on my way to visit my sister, when I saw you coming out of the House of Healing, my friend.” Éomer said. “You seemed subdued and sad. Tell me, Steward. What was it that made you sad. Was it my sister?”

Faramir beckoned the young Rohirrim into his office. As soon as he closed the door the Steward shook his head. “No, your sister only used a ladies prerogative of making up her mind and asked for some time. I had not expected otherwise.” Faramir said. “My worried face related to my conversation with the healers there.” Now it was Éomer’s turn to look alarmed. “What did they say?” Éomer became dismayed and grabbed Faramir by the arm. “Well, nothing really worrying. At least not for you!” Faramir said. “Éowyn will be released today, completely healed.” Éomer took a deep breath. He had feared the worst. Faramir saw Éomer’s fright, took him by the arm and forced him to sit down. He quickly produced a drink to steady Éomer’s nerves. “I am sorry. I worried you unnecessarily.” Faramir scratched his head watching Éomer gulp down the wine.

Faramir walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a glass as well. While busy he scolded himself silently mouthing the words. Éomer was watching him and suddenly he laughed. “What are you doing, Steward?” he enquired. Faramir turned around and blushed “Pouring a drink?” he answered unsure how to reply. He knew perfectly well that this was not what Éomer was referring to. Éomer laughed even harder. “Not that. Were you talking to yourself just now?” The young Steward went from bright red to crimson. “It’s a bad habit, I know.” he admitted. “Boromir used to make fun of it as well. Just like he would have done about my always putting my foot right in where it shouldn’t be.” Faramir paused and looked at the still laughing Rohirrim. “Boromir called it my talent.”

Éomer was holding his side; it ached from his laughing attack. “Typical Boromir to pick on you for that.” he said and stood up, put his arm around Faramir and patted his back. Looking at Faramir’s profile Éomer was somewhat reminded of his cousin Théodred. Suddenly he leaned in and kissed Faramir. The head of the young Gondorian swung around and before he knew it the future King of Rohan had lifted him off his feet forcing his tongue into his mouth.

Faramir stumbled backwards when Éomer pushed him towards the desk. Movement stopped as soon as Faramir’s hip touched the edge of the tabletop. He closed his eyes, the smell of leather and horse reminded him of the times he and his brother had been together like this. His hands moved up and caressed the long blond strands of Éomer’s hair. Éomer’s eyes closed slowly while behind them a picture started building up. Long blond hair and bright blue eyes. A strong slightly stubbly jaw. Slowly but surely Théodred’s face emerged. “Oh Theo.” he whispered while nibbling at Faramir’s neck. The young Gondorian lifted his left leg to move it over Éomer’s hip. Faramir moaned softly as Éomer’s lips moved from his neck to his shoulder and down to his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye Faramir saw Éowyn approaching his office. “Whoa, Boro, um, eyh, Éomer, stop it. Stop if, Éowyn is coming.” he shouted, pushing the Rohirrim back. The two straightened their rumpled clothes and sat down just as the door opened and Éowyn walked in. Éomer got up and kissed her cheek in greeting. Meanwhile Faramir rushed to the sideboard. “Care for a glass of wine?” he asked. His mind raced and turning around sensed that Éomer was in the same state. “So what are you two up to?” Éowyn asked scanning their faces. “Oh, nothing really. I was checking out my future brother-in-law.” Éomer joked. He turned towards the door saying: “I will leave you two love birds alone. Oh, Éowyn, I intend to return to Edoras later today. Uncle’s funeral needs to be arranged. I think it will take me a week to get everything prepared. Why don’t you stay here then come in a week’s time. Bring Faramir with you, that is if his King can spare him.” With these words he exited the Steward’s office and closed the door firmly behind him.

Éomer took a deep breath. What was I thinking? I almost made love to my sister’s future husband. The man who will be my brother-in-law. Goodness, Éomer, get a grip. He shook these thoughts off. He walked over to the guest quarters where his captains were lodging. The men stood at attention the minute he entered the room. “At ease.” he commanded and waved his two most senior captains forward. Fasthelm and Herumer responded immediately. “Gather King Théoden’s remains and then prepare to move out. We are going home.”

An hour later the host of Rohan was moving out of Minas Tirith.

The previous evening the guests from Gondor had arrived and Éomer had greeted them in the Golden Hall. His sister and her fiance the Steward of Gondor had been among them. Éomer had arranged the funeral ritual for Théoden the late King of Rohan. The ceremonies would last three full days since there was no longer any fear of eminent enemy attacks. Once the funeral celebrations ended Éomer would be declared King of Rohan and crowned. This ceremony would be administered by Gandalf the White. After the coronation it was planned that King Elessar would renew the Gift of Cirion and King Éomer renew the Oath of Eorl. These proceedings would conclude in a great banquet and Gandalf had promised a display of his famous fireworks.

Before the start of the burial ceremony Éowyn sought out Éomer for a private conversation. Having agreed to marry Faramir she wanted her brother to give her away as he was the only surviving member of her family. Once Éomer was crowned King he would have no time to leave Rohan for his presence was needed in the restructuring of the country. Éomer called for Gandalf, Faramir and King Elessar to attend the meeting with his sister. As soon as they were all gathered he laid the situation before them. Since his coronation was to be presided over by Gandalf he asked if his sister’s wedding could be performed prior to it. He made it clear that he did not mind sharing his great day with his sister. He looked at Faramir wondering if he would veto the wedding. But the young Gondorian smiled, grabbed his sister’s hand and kissed it. So the plan was agreed and the arrangements for the ceremonial proceedings amended to the new agenda.

On the morning of the third day of the funeral ceremonies King Théoden, dressed in his royal regalia, was laid on a shield bearing his coat of arms. His personal guard functioned as pall bearers. They carried the dead king down to the tomb of the Kings and Queens of Rohan. The tomb was decorated with Simbelmyne. Éowyn placed a bouquet of the white flowers on Théoden’s chest between hands which held his sword. The people of Edoras had formed an honour guard from Meduseld to the tomb hailing their dead king. For two days the people had paid homage to their king as he laid in the Golden Hall. Éomer, his sister and the guests from Minas Tirith had attended the wake. In his preparations Éomer had ordered open the sarcophagus of his aunt Queen Elfhild. His uncle Théoden Ednew, King of Rohan would be laid to rest next to his beloved wife. Théoden had planned this himself. When his wife died he had laid her to rest in a double sarcophagus. After the king was placed in the sarcophagus a basic lid was lifted to seal it. The final lid would be added several weeks later as the stone mason was still crafting the king’s sculpture on it. To the right of the King and Queen was the sarcophagus of their son Prince Théodred.

Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day’s rising
he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended;
over death, over dread, over doom lifted
out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.¹

Thus rang the voices of the warriors of the Eotheod singing a song written by King Théoden’s ministrel Gleowine.

Lament of the Rohirrim — Song About Riders of Rohan

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the sping and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?²

 

¹ Source: JRR Tolkien “The Lord of the Rings – The Return of the King – Chapter Many Partings” Harper Collins Paperback Edition Page 954

² Source: JRR Tolkien “The Lord of the Rings – The Two Towers – Chapter Treebeard” Harper Collins Paperback Edition Page 458

Fic: Éomer: Memories [Part 4]
Pairing: Éomer, King of Rohan/Théodred and Faramir
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1749
Disclaimer: Pure fiction. No copyright infringement intended.
All characters belong to their legal copyright holders.
Beta: The wonderful ingrid44, who is patience impersonated.
Thank you so much my friend.
Summary: After the war Éomer mourns for Théodred and Faramir stirs up feelings unintentionally

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Part 4

During the burial ceremony Éomer had to restrain himself. Seeing Théodred’s sarcophagus stirred his emotions more than he had anticipated. Reminding him that he had been forbidden to attend his cousin’s funeral. The anger and disappointment still tormented him. So when all left the tomb to return to Meduseld for the conclusion of the ceremony Éomer stayed behind.

He stood towering over Théodred’s sarcophagus tears streaming unhindered down his face. He flung himself upon the carved figure on the lid crying at the acute pain of his loss. With all his strength he pushed apart the two lids of the sarcophagus. Théodred’s body was still unaffected by decay as his burial had not been long past. Seeing his lover lying so still, so unmoving was so painful that a low wail escaped his lips. Overcome with grief he threw himself into the sarcophagus. He hugged the beloved corpse tight kissing the cold lips. “Oh, Theo, my Theo. Why, why?” Suddenly it was as if his cousin was speaking to him. ‘Gather your strength, my love. I shall be with you always, always. My love for you is unfaltering.’ Éomer untied the tunic of his cousin’s burial clothes and laid his hand on his lover’s chest. The skin was cold to the touch and there was no heartbeat. Hot tears fell upon Threodred’s chest and Éomer bent down to kiss each droplet landing on the white skin.

Éomer looked over at the double casket of his uncle and aunt. That was when he made his decision. Théodred would be re-buried. When his time came he would share Théodred’s tomb.

His mind was made up. As soon as these festivities were over and the guests gone he would take the necessary steps to make the changes needed. For now he had to return to his guests and so he heaved the lids back into place after kissing his lover farewell.

Returning late to the banquet held in honour of King Théoden Éomer was greeted with raised eyebrows from his sister. He excused himself saying that he had wanted to pay his respects not only at his uncle’s grave but also to say farewell to his cousin. “Éowyn, you know very well that I was not allowed to attend his funeral. So I took this opportunity to say my farewell to Théodred.” Éowyn blushed slightly. She had forgotten all about that due to the rush of events over the last months. “Oh brother, I am sorry. I had forgotten all about it. Of course you wanted to pay your respects not only to our uncle but also to cousin Théodred.” She cried. Soon word spread among the visitors as to why Éomer had delayed returning to the Golden Hall. Everybody expressed their sympathies and understanding.

The next day the Eotheod, which the Rohirrim called themselves, prepared the Golden Hall for the wedding of their Princess to the Steward of Gondor, to be followed with the Coronation of their new King. All banners of mourning were taken down and carefully folded up. The newly appointed Marshalls of Rohan carried them to their future king who himself took them to the Tombs There he draped them around the sarcophagus of his uncle. This done the women busied themselves putting up garlands of flowers in preparation of the upcoming wedding.

Éowyn was in her old room surrounded by the wives and daughters of the nobility of Rohan and Gondor. Queen Arwen had insisted on her wearing a lovely Elven gown as her wedding dress. She had nothing left of her mother’s wedding finery except the veil. King Elessar had announced that on return to Minas Tirith the preparations would begin for Faramir’s installation. The ceremony would proclaim Faramir’s new title and governorship. Éowyn already knew that Faramir would be named Prince of Ithilien and given jurisdiction over Ithilien. However they would continue to live in Minas Tirith.

Éomer led his sister through the honour guard. The maidens of Rohan held garlands spanning the aisle high above Éomer and Éowyn’s heads. Éomer left his sister facing her future husband. The crowd moved closer to catch a glimpse of the bride and groom sharing their cup of wine and their exchange of vows. Gandalf handed the golden chalice to Éowyn who took a sip and then offered it to Faramir. He laid his hands over hers and both raised the chalice to his lips. The couple then promised to care for each other and to carry on doing so until they either agreed to separate or one of the partners died. The couple then walked out of the Golden Hall to plant a tree together. The tree would represent the growth of their relationship.

While Éowyn and Faramir were planting the tree of partnership, Éomer went to his quarters to change. Herumer and Fasthelm assisted him in putting on the King’s gown, armour and ceremonial cloak. When he re-entered the Golden Hall all guests had resumed their places in Meduseld. Herumer and Fasthelm walked ahead of their king while the rest of the captains fell in behind. Éomer walked up the aisle, stepped on the dais and sat down on the throne. King Elessar stepped to Éomer’s left while Faramir positioned himself to the king’s right. Gandalf stepped in front of the throne holding the crown up for all present to see. The gathered assembly hailed the crown. Gandalf then turned and placed the coronet on Éomer’s head. Again the hails filled the hall. As soon as the crowd quieted Gandalf stepped forward again and announced the reestablishment of the Oaths. The two Kings would go out and before the tomb of the Kings reaffirm the vows. King Elessar was to give the Gift of Cirion while King Éomer would renew the Oath of Eorl.

Gandalf had searched the archives in Minas Tirith until he found a report on the original wording of the vows. Cirion and Eorl had exchanged their vows on the tomb of King Elendil on Amon Anwar, now called Halifirien. That site was to far to reach in one day’s ride and besides the wording had to change as Cirion had been a Steward of Gondor. This time the vows would be exchanged between two Kings and not between a Steward and a Chieftain. After consultation with the two Kings, Gandalf decided the celebration should be held over the tomb of King Théoden.

It fell to King Elessar to start the ceremony and standing face to face with Éomer King, the High King of Gondor raised his voice.

“I will now declare what I have resolved, with the authorization of the High Kings of Gondor, to offer to Éomer son of Eomund of Eastfold, King of the Eotheod, in recognition of the valour of his people and of the help beyond hope that he brought to Gondor in time of dire need. To Éomer I will give in free gift all the great land of Calenardhon from Anduin to Isen. There, if he will he shall be king, and his heirs after him, and his people shall dwell in freedom while the authority of the High Kings endure. No bond shall be laid upon them other than their own laws and will, save in this only: they shall live in perpetual friendship with Gondor and its enemies shall be their enemies while both realms endure. But the same bond shall be laid also on the people of Gondor.” Thus were the agreed words changed from the original to fit the occasion.”³

This oath was answered by Éomer as follows:

“Great King, the gift that you offer I accept for myself and for my people. It far exceeds any reward that our deeds could have earned, if they had not themselves been a free gift of friendship. But now I will seal that friendship with an oath that shall not be forgotten.”⁴

Just as in the olden days the two Kings stepped up onto the tomb accompanied by the Prince of Dol Amroth as an envoy of the High King and Fasthelm newly proclaimed 2nd Marshall of Rohan as esquires. For when Eorl and Cirion had exchanged their vows Eomund, Chief Captain of the host of the Eotheods who had been Éomer’s forefather and the Prince of Dol Amroth the forefather of the current Prince had also functioned as Esquires confirming the validity of the exchanged vows.

So Éomer stepped forward and spoke: “Hear now all peoples who bowed not to the Shadow in the East, by the gift of the King of the Mundburg we will remain to dwell in the land that he names Calanardhon, and therefore I vow in my own name and on behalf of the Eotheod of the North that between us and the Great People of the West there shall be friendship for ever: their enemies shall be our enemies, their need shall be our need, and whatsoever evil, or threat, or assault may come upon them we will aid them to the utmost end of our strength. This vow shall descend to my heirs,to all such as may come after me in our land, and let them keep it in faith unbroken, lest the Shadow fall upon them and they become accursed.”⁵

All present stood silent and awestruck at the powerful words. And so King Elessar raised his voice again and in the ancient language of the Númenoreans he spoke: “Vanda sina termaruva Elenna noreo alcar enyalien ar Elendil Vorondo voronwe. Nai tiruvantes I harar mahalmassen mi Numen ar I Eru I or ilye mahalmar ea tennoio.”⁶

Followed by:

“This oath shall stand in memory of the glory of the Land of the Star, and of the faith of Elendil the Faithful, in the keeping of those who sit upon the thrones of the West and of the One who is above all thrones for ever.”⁷

King Elessar’s voice rang out and silence prevailed until Gandalf stepped up on to the tomb and declared “We all have witnessed the exchange of the Gift and Oaths provided by the ancestors and upheld by their heirs. Now let us follow in the path of our forbearers and seal this celebration with a festive banquet. Join us again in Meduseld, the Golden Hall to feast and rejoice.”

And thus the bond between Rohan and Gondor had been renewed to last the many generations which would follow.

The End

³ Original words of the Gift of Cirion as written by JRR Tolkien in “Unfinished Tales – Part Three: The Third Age; II Cirion and Eorl and the Friendship of Gondor and Rohan; (iii) Cirion and Eorl” Harper Collins Paperback Edition page 392.
“I will now declare what I have resolved, with the authority of the Stewards of Kings, to offer Eorl son of Leod, Lord of the Eotheod, in recognition of the valour of his people and of the help beyond hope that he brought to Gondor in time of dire need. To Eorl I will give in free gift all the great land of Calendardhon from Anduin to Isen. There, if he will, he shall be king, and his heirs after him, and his people shall dwell in freedom while the authority of the Stewards endures, until the Great King returns. No bond shall be laid upon them other than their own laws and will, save in this only they shall live in perpetual friendship with Gondor and its enemies shall be their enemies while both realms endure. But the same bond shall be laid also on the people of Gondor.”

⁴ Original words of the response of Eorl to the Gift of Cirion as written by JRR Tolkien in “Unfinished Tales – Part Three: The Third Age; II Cirion and Eorl and the Friendship of Gondor and Rohan; (iii) Cirion and Eorl” Harper Collins Paperback Edition page 393
“Lord Steward of the Great King, the gift that you offer I accept for myself and for my people. It far exceeds any reward that our deeds could have earned, if they had not themselves been a free gift of friendship. But now I will seal that friendship with an oath that shall not be forgotten.”

⁵ Original words of the Oath of Eorl as written by JRR Tolkien in “Unfinished Tales – Part Three: The Third Age; II Cirion and Eorl and the Friendship of Gondor and Rohan; (iii) Cirion and Eorl” Harper Collins Paperback Edition page 394
“Hear now all peoples who bow not to the Shadow in the East, by the gift of the Lord of the Mundburg we will come to dwell in the land that he names Calenardhon, and therefore I vow in my own name and on behalf of the Eotheod of the North that between us and the Great People of the West there shall be friendship for ever: their enemies shall be our enemies, their need shall be our need, and whatsoever evil, or threat, or assult may come upon them we will aid them to the utmost end of our strength. This vow shall descend to my heirs, all such as may come after me in our new land, and let them keep it in faith unbroken, lest the Shadow fall upon them and they become accursed.”

⁶ Original words of Cirion responding to the Oath of Eorl as written by JRR Tolkien in “Unfinished Tales – Part Three: The Third Age; II Cirion and Eorl and the Friendship of Gondor and Rohan; (iii) Cirion and Eorl” Harper Collins Paperback Edition page 395
“Vanda sina termaruva Elenna-noreo akar enyalien ar Elendil Vorondo voronwe. Nai tiruvantes I harar mahal-massen mi Numen ar I Eru I or ilye mahalmar ea tennoio.”

⁷ Original words of Cirion responding to the Oath of Eorl as written by JRR Tolkien in “Unfinished Tales – Part Three: The Third Age; II Cirion and Eorl and the Friendship of Gondor and Rohan; (iii) Cirion and Eorl” Harper Collins Paperback Edition page 395
“This oath shall stand in memory of the glory of the Land of the Star, and of the faith of Elendil the Faithful, in the keeping of those who sit upon the thrones of the West and of the One who is above all thrones for ever.”

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