#the only one keeping Eomarc on its feet is Eothain

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

‘You waited before you sent for me,’ Éomer hisses. ‘You fucking sat on this. I could kill you—’ ‘I’ve no doubt, my lord, for you were ever the one with the martial prowess between the two of us.’ Gríma takes another step back. ‘But that wouldn’t be a wise move and I, personally, am not in the mood to die. Your sister is your sister, I have no control over her. She decided to fuck off into the great unknown for reasons I cannot fathom. You must have said something to her.' ‘What mean you?’ ‘You argued, yes? You always argue—’ ‘That is unfair. We are not always in argument.' ‘I beg to differ, but that isn’t the point. You provoked her.’ ‘Absolutely not! I would never provoke her.' Éomer snaps. ‘You’re always the one haunting her footsteps. You’re the one she dislikes and would not weep over if you were to fall off your perch tomorrow.’ Gríma glares. Dark eyes all heated and full of trembling fury. Oh, Éomer thinks, he has not seen Gríma this angry in years. This is a spitting-oil-in-a-fire angry. Gríma’s jaw clenches, works, he then paces a half circle before coming back to Éomer with hands on his hips as if he were a scolding fishwife. ‘Your sister could ruin things. You know that, right? The situation, at the moment, is balanced in a particular manner—’ ‘What?’ Éomer interrupts, scathing. ‘You've no contingency plan for Éowyn running away?’ ‘Hardly. Though, evidently that is an oversight on my part. I never thought she’d break her oath to your uncle, especially given her comments on the subject of oath breaking when it’s come up between us.’ Éomer heaves a sigh at the same time as Gríma.

From an upcoming chapter in What Makes a King.

Your honour, they're so utterly married and they don't even know it.

Meanwhile Eothain is just like, "Please stop arguing like you're about to enter divorce court and like...help us deal with Saruman or something."

Happy Wednesday, Fellowship! 💚

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