Chapter soundtrack: 'Who Knew' by P!nk.
♪ = cue the music
!warning! - there will be strong alcohol abuse. If this is a sensitive topic, then please skip to the next chapter.
† Chp. XXIX †
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From the moment in which the fellowship arrives back in Edoras, Eowyn knows there is a problem. Robin rides in last, her head bowed as she blocks the outside world from her destructive mind. It comes as a shock, the cold expression in which engraves her features, for never once has the lady seen the outlaw in such a deprived state.
Eowyn paces towards her friend as Robin dismounts her steed. Placing a hand on her shoulder, the lady of Rohan greets the outlaw, a dim smile upon her soft lips.
"It's good to see you are okay, little butterfly." She utters. However, Eowyn tenses as Robin lifts her gaze, her eyes glazed as pure resentment radiates from her bitter glare.
The outlaw shakes her head, pushing past her friend with a tightly clenched jaw. Eowyn steps back in both shock and confusion. She has never seen Robin in such a state, and to put it quite frankly, she is terrified.
If she had of known the mental torture in which Isengard would hold upon her young friend, Eowyn would have fought against Robin joining the ordeal. Although, it's not as if her opinion would have swayed the mind of the determined outlaw.
Her tense gaze meets that of Aragorn's, and the man softens his expression, stepping forward to inform Eowyn of Saruman's death.
Although one individual holds grief, victory has lifted the spirits of Edoras through a conquered battle and the fall of Isengard. Once again, the human race has displayed undefeatable strength, and for that, Rohan shall celebrate.
"Tonight, we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country." Theoden proclaims, standing before a full hall as he raises a goblet in which Eowyn offered.
The onlookers stand to their feet paying respect towards the fallen as they offer up their mugs. Robin is nowhere in sight.
"Hail the victorious dead!" Theoden speaks with great passion, extending his toast. The hall shouts in response to their king, before downing their drinks. Eowyn scans across the wide space, rather concerned for her friend.
Robin is never one to miss honourable ceremonies, as she holds too much respect towards the bravery of men. However, at this current moment, she is nowhere to be seen. Eowyn lowers her head, her mind ticking with worry.
The young outlaw always bounces back with time. However, if she skips out on the party, then Eowyn will truely trust her concern.
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Gimli chugs down another mug of ale, the froth bubbling into his thick beard as the dwarf submerges his stubby face within the heavy grog. Legolas, on the other hand, swiftly downs his cup, moving onto his next tankard with ease.
The dwarf leans forward and lets out a ripper, guffawing as Eomer does a double take.
"It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women!" Gimli gruffs, merrily bouncing before releasing a loud belch.
Eowyn and Aragorn approach the table, the man raising a rather amused eyebrow as he observes mounds of mugs.
"I feel something." Legolas remarks, concern laced within his soft voice. Eomer widens his eyes. "A slight tingle in my fingers... I think it's affecting me."
"Well would you look at that, the elf is off his head." Robin retorts, striding towards the posse. The stench of liquor sits heavy in her breath.
"Eretria, we were beginning to grow worried." Eowyn utters, as Robin leans against the table. "It almost seemed as if you were going to miss the celebration."
The outlaw lets out a merry chuckle, rather impressed as the watches the elf down another pint.
"You know I'd never miss a good party." She slurs, taking one of the mugs for herself and chugging the liquor. Eowyn furrows her brows.
"I think you have had enough, Robin." Aragorn remarks, rather concerned at the pace of her drinking.
"Don't tell me what to do, Dad. I'm a big gi-"
"Ehhhhh what did I say, he can't hold his liquor!" Gimli rasps, cutting the girl off as his words slur together.
Robin leans across the table and pushes her fingertips against the dwarf's forehead. With his eyes crossing, Gimli slowly leans back, before keeling off his stool. The outlaw smirks up at Legolas.
"Game over." The elf states with a sly grin, raising his brows at Eomer.
Robin follows his gaze, meeting eyes with the young Rider of Rohan. She clenches her jaw, quickly averting as she straightens her stance. However, all attention is drawn to Gamling as he stumbles forward, clearly intoxicated himself.
"Eretria, my darling. I am deeply sorry for your loss." He murmurs, tightly wrapping his arms around her frame.
"Get your mitts off me!" Robin hisses, pushing his grog infused body away as the recent memory reopens. "I have lost nothing... except my vile of rum."
Gamling stands back, rather offended, and Robin proceeds to scan the hall, before a familiar tune fills her ears.
"This is my jam!" She chimes, chugging another mug of ale before rushing forward and away from the small group.
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↛ Røbin's P.Ø.V ↚
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The groovy beat of Misty Mountain Hop rings through my ears as I stumble forward, belting the opening lines whilst struggling to stay balanced. Warm, sweaty bodies press against mine as I navigate the great hall, searching for a mosh pit or atleast a dancing buddy, until an illuminated dance floor in the form of a large wooden table grabs my attention. I feel a wide, sloppy grin spread across my hot face.
Time to get my bloody groove on.
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My hands find their way onto two small shoulders, and I drag the halflings forward, continuing to sing along to my favourite tune in a slur of words.
"Where are we going?" Pippin questions in his oh-so-adorable happy little found-a-pot-of-mushrooms voice.
"To own the stage baby!" I shout back, feeling as though I'm drowning within the chorus of loud music and chatter which encases us.
"Well, I'm not a very good dancer." Merry remarks.
"You sit on a throne of lies!" I call back, pushing two seated men aside as I leap a top the wooden table, lifting one of their mugs and taking a swig. The cold liquid burns the back of my throat, however I continue to chug the ale as it works to numb my aggressive thoughts.
Men of Rohan cheer and I chuck the mug, belting out more lyrics of the catchy tune. My feet seem to grow a mind of their own as they heave my body in jumps and turns, the pounding of drums guiding my sloppy maneuvers.
One of the bearded man whom I fail to recognise joins me upon the dance floor as he lifts himself onto the table, grabbing my hand and assisting my body in a series of quick spins. I stumble forward, falling against his broad chest in an attempt to regain my balance. The strong scent of booze seeps it way into my nose, and he firmly grips my frame within his thick arms, his broad hand slipping a little too low as he caresses my ass.
Writhing out of his grip, I steady myself and send my fist, with great force, against his pink cheek. The crowd of men cheer as he trips and falls against the stone floor. I mock a bow.
My eyes meet those of the hobbit's, and I gesture them onto the table. With a cheeky exchange and wide grins, they heave themselves aboard, beaming as they receive a hoot from the onlookers.
They spin with their arms linked, and I smirk, my own vision beginning to whirl as a bottle of grog is held out towards me.
Accepting the gift, I grip the glass and pop the cork, downing the strong liquid as the crowd cheers me on. My head spins whilst the bottle is drained, and I throw the glass, sticking out my tongue and the wide array of men howl in response.
Men, so easy to entertain.
"So I've decided what I'm gonna do now.
So I'm packing my bags for the Misty Mountains,
Where the spirits go now.
Over the hills where the spirits fly, oh, I really don't know!"
I blurt out the closing lines, and the tune finishes. By now, I can't even see straight.
"This one's for the Shire!" One of the little boy's remarks, before the two break into song. However, I feel my body stumbling backwards. Luckily, several strong hands catch my frame and steady me back onto my feet.
I murmur a thank you, unable to lift my head as I drowsily trip through the crowd of steaming bodies, searching for an exit. My stomach heaves as the room spins, and I luckily find my clammy hand against the brass handle of a large door
Bursting through the wooden exit, I stumble into the deserted street, my body radiating heat against the cool night breeze. Stammering forward, I allow my feet to guide me wherever the hell they want. Turning a corner, my boot catches on a lifted stone, and my figure comes hauling against the hard ground as I am unable to balance my posture.
My knees scrape the stone path as my palms come into hard contact with the rigid floor, the scenery continuing to spin in a whir of darkness. Next thing I know, hot acid burns my throat as I spew up a rancid cocktail of booze and bile. My stomach heaves, and I attempt to catch my breath, however more vile fluid spills from my mouth.
Leaning back, I allow tears to flood down my warm cheeks, and I choke on my own breath. My fingers meet my forehead as I bury my face, unable to control the sudden flood of emotion which drowns my mind.
I killed him.
I killed Saruman.
My life is surronded by death. My father died due to my own ignorance. My brother died because I didn't listen to his order. Both my mother and Boromir died because I wasn't strong enough to protect them.
And in the end, I was the one who drove my dagger into my last sense of family.
I slowly lift my head, staring with remorse at my soaked palms.
The blood of Saruman is on my hands.
I killed someone.
What if he could have been saved? What if the Manny I grew to love was trapped in the head of that corrupt wizard, pleading for his little bear to break the curse and release her honest companion?
He had raised me, shown me strength and wisdom. How do I repay his kindness? With a dagger to the heart.
More tears spill down my raw cheeks as I rock back and forth, biting my fist to suppress loud sobs. The weight of a hand upon my shaking shoulder causes my blurred vision to raise.
Eowyn gazes down at me, concern gathering within her soft eyes as her brows lace together. She kneels down, embracing my trembling body as my shoulders heave with each heavy sob.
"Shhhh... it's okay, Eretria... it's okay...." Eowyn soothes, rubbing circles on my back.
"No, i-it's not. I killed him, I k-killed Manny." I blabber out, choking on my own words. The back of my raw throat stings.
"You did what had to be done in order to protect your people." Eowyn replies with her calming voice, placing her cold fingers beneath my chin as she raises my gaze to meet hers. "You placed the lives of the innocent above your own personal happiness. What you did was incredibly selfless and honourable."
I wipe my eyes, nodding at my best friend as tears continue to roll down my face. Eowyn guides me to my feet, steadying my stance as my head is yet to stabilise from spinning.
"You are stronger than you think, little butterfly." Eowyn assures with a strong, yet honest voice. "Do not lower your value over one life which could not be saved."
I feel her soft arms wrap around my figure as she pulls me close to her body. Relaxing my stance, I allow my muscles to fall, and I rest my chin a top her shoulder. Several tears continue to roll down my stained cheeks, but the comfort in which Eowyn gifts allows my breathing to once again turn steady.
"Thank you, Chook." I whisper, allowing one last droplet to cascade down my face.
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Okay, so I know the last couple of chapters have been a lil harsh on our precious thief, but I promise that the next update (after our little flash-back) will be a treat for you guys (;
Also, chuck me a follow on instagram for free cookies - @savannah_clements