On the Wings of the Storm

Chapter 14

Once the door of Prince Théodred's study had closed behind me, I fled up the stairs, seeking the shelter of my chamber. Alone! I wanted to be alone! But halfway there, I hesitated. Ceolwen or the twins might look for me in my room, curious to hear why the prince had wanted to speak to me. Gossip travelled quickly in such a small place.

Where else could I go? Visit Nimphelos? But the stables were too busy for me to sneak into her box unobserved. Suddenly I remembered that on the floor below the guest quarters a small door led out onto a covered walkway, where once lookouts had been posted. However, many years ago Lord Erkenbrand had turned the topmost floor of the keep into a guardroom, and I had discovered that nobody used the walkway anymore. It afforded a wide view over the valley and quite often I spent time there, leaning on the parapet and enjoying the solitude.

Wind tugged at my clothes and blew my hair in my face when I stepped through the door, but the morning sun shone strongly, warming me. Leaning back against the stone wall, I sank to the floor and hugged my knees. I had received a proposal of marriage. One that would mean becoming Queen of Rohan one day! I burst into tears.

Burying my face in my skirts, I tried to muffle my weeping, for I did not want anybody to hear and investigate. Marry Théodred. What would Éomer say? Had he received the letter yet? Fresh sobs shook me at the thought. The blue wool of my dress grew damp with tears while the accumulated heartache of the last weeks overwhelmed me. Ever since Yule nothing had gone right, on the contrary, things had gone from bad to worse. How could my plan to get away from Gríma have miscarried so disastrously? Éomer! How I needed him. I wanted to ride off at once in order to find him and explain that I wasn't the coldly calculating tease he must think me. Wanted him to comfort me. Wanted to feel safe again.

But after a while I strove to get a grip on myself. Tears would not help me find a solution to my problems, and neither would wishing to be somewhere else. Swallowing down my sobs, I considered my options.

Marry Théodred. I trembled. He was a good man, I reminded myself, everybody agreed on that. A warrior first and foremost, but one who cared for his people deeply and would give all he had to protect them. And while he might not have his cousin's personal magnetism, his men respected him and followed him willingly. Twice my age...yet many people, including my own aunt, would consider that the perfect age for a husband. How often had she told me I needed a steadying influence, somebody to curb the 'rash impulses of youth'.

I wiped a tear from my face. Nobody had ever asked me if I wanted my impulses to be curbed. Would he be a strict husband? It was difficult to judge, for Théodred had praised my qualities as a queen without saying a word on how he felt about me as a person. So much in a noblewoman's life depended on the man she married! I could not deny that I had come to like this country and its people. To be Queen of Rohan and answerable to nobody but my husband was no bad prospect. But...

Thoroughly disheartened, I traced a crack on one of the flagstones. I knew of course that Théodred could have been twenty years younger and handsome as an Elf lord, yet I would still have found fault with him. He was the wrong man! Why couldn't his and Éomer's role be exchanged. Éomer be the Crown Prince and Théodred the Third Marshal. I realized that all this time in a corner of my heart I had still hoped that fate might take a hand and solve my problems for me. But fate had shown not the least interest in my affairs.

"You are a fool!" I said aloud. I had told myself that a lot lately. 

Perhaps it was selfish to put my own concerns first when I could help my country and Rohan by marrying the prince. And perhaps he had been right to call my feelings for his cousin a youthful fancy that would pass – a mere infatuation. I straightened my shoulders and smoothed out my crumpled skirt. Ceolwen had married a man many years her senior, yet she had grown to love him. As for Lord Erkenbrand, he obviously worshipped his pretty young wife and was bursting with pride at the prospect of the child about to be born to them.