Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 4 |
| Chapter Four |
| ‘Why are you here? To gloat?’ ‘No.’ ‘I have nothing to say to you. Leave me to die in peace.’ ‘You are so far from peace, Galbrand. I understand that feeling. Your soul will never find the Halls of your ancestors. And you have too many unanswered questions. I am here to help you find the answers.’ ‘You can’t possibly give me answers.’ ‘I know that your brother Wulfren was not Gallend’s father. I know that your wife did love another, but not a Dunlending, and that Gallend is almost certainly your son.’ ‘You cannot possibly know this.’ ‘And yet I do. What I don’t understand is how you allowed the Astari so much influence in Elbrond. I offer you a bargain, you answer my questions honestly and I will bring you a measure of peace. We have all night. I will sit with you until it is time. No one else will come, Galbrand. There is only me.’ ‘You have nothing to offer me. You know nothing. Wulfren is Gallend’s father. He admitted it to me himself!’ ‘Yes, he did, to protect another. You know deep down what I say is true. Do we have a bargain? You have nothing to lose. Whatever you tell me tonight, the sentence has been given. You murdered your wife, you caused the murder of your son’s pregnant wife and two children, your only grandchildren, and you paid for an Astari to kill your King. These are indisputable facts, but your brother? Wulfren. Everyone thinks he died in a boating accident on the River Anduin in East Emnet, but that is not what happened, is it?’ ‘No,’ came his tortured response. He did not understand how she could know this. None had questioned how his brother had died before, and no one else had been there. ‘He was your mother’s favourite. The only one of your three siblings to have dark hair. Did you see your father kill her lover? Is this the source of your hatred of the Dunlendings because you had been told her lover was from Dunland? How old were you? Ten, twelve?’ Galbrand looked up at her in pure hatred and disgust. But she was right, he had nothing else now to lose and he wanted to know how she knew what she did. ‘I was twelve. Wulfren was seven. He had no idea he was not Father’s son, he never knew…’ he looked back at the painful memory of that day and shifted his position in his chains. ‘Mother had naively asked Father’s permission to leave him. She had given him an heir and she wanted to go and live with the man she loved in secret. She told him she would just disappear. But she wanted to take Wulfren with her and that made him suspicious that her affair had been going on much longer than she had claimed. So, he gave his permission and told her she could come back for Wulfren in a few days. Of course, he had her followed. He had tracked her to a cottage on the edge of the woods near Sethalbrond Lake. He took me with him, telling me that I was there to help him to protect my brother from a man who wanted to take him and Mother away from us. He fought well, I will give him that, but my Father was in a fury and we had the element of surprise.’ ‘So you killed him, Wulfren’s real father and your mother was kept as a prisoner in Elbrond from that moment on. Erkenbrand and his twin sister were born a year later and are most certainly your father’s children. Did you never feel sorry for your mother, Galbrand, did you never feel her pain and despair? She knew you had been there to kill the man she loved. She did not blame you, but it was difficult for her to show you her love as your father had poisoned you so much against her.’ ‘You cannot know what my mother felt, she died too long ago. You never met her.’ ‘No, but she spoke to one I did meet. One who does know the full story, your mother’s past… and that of your wife, Tinuven.’ ‘Who? One of the servants? As if servants know of the feelings of their superiors…’ ‘No. Not a servant. Your brother, Wulfren.’ ‘That’s not possible.’ ‘From whom else would I know what I know? You bludgeoned him almost to death by the side of the Anduin and tossed him over the cliffs into the river, expecting him to be taken downstream to Gondor.’ ‘My brother is alive?’ ‘This is an exchange, Galbrand. How did the Astari come to such prominence in Elbrond?’ she persisted. ‘Wulfren was the only one I loved, despite how much more Mother loved him…and he betrayed me,’ he cried out, his raw emotion mixed with anger. ‘The Astari?’ Lothíriel demanded coldly. Galbrand regarded her malevolently. ‘A man came to me, a powerful man. Initially I thought he had come from Saruman. He had the wit and education of a great courtier, but he was not from Gondor. He came as an emissary from the South, from another wizard, even more powerful than Saruman. He told me that my wife was in love with another and had been from before our marriage. I knew that to be true as Tinuven had not been a maid on our wedding night, however much she had tried to hide it. The man said it was my brother. This was when Gallend was about two, his hair was dark, just like Wulfren’s. The man told me he could help me take revenge, but I refused him. It seemed so unlikely. My brother was not like that and there was no proof, just his supposition, however well informed. I did, however, allow his men to stay and take property in Elbrond to keep him on side, to ensure he did not maliciously spread this rumour. They became useful in keeping watch over Dunland, as well as my wife and brother. How is my brother alive, where is he? Why did he never come back to accuse me?’ ‘Because by the time he had recovered from his injuries, he had heard that Tinuven was dead and Gallend safe in Edoras. And he was free at last to lead the life he wanted. So, you used the Astari to foment trouble in Dunland? And provide Alfrind with a life in Rohan before he moved to The Wold.’ ‘Yes, he was a strange one, there was something not right about him. I have nothing against Éomer personally, but he had been far too lenient on the Dunlendings and it was the final insult, thanks to you.’ ‘No, it was not my doing. It was Maglor’s, and Gallend’s, and it was the wisest course.’ ‘You know nothing of the Dunlendings, nothing at all. This ‘peace’ will never hold with such savages.’ ‘Maglor knows their history since before they retreated into the inhospitable lands of what is now Dunland, nothing but a wasteland compared to their former lands from which they were forced by successive waves of Númenórean conquest and raids from the Rohirrim. They were not savages, but if you take away a people’s lands and dignity, savages they may become. Look at you. What did you become? Wife-murderer, brother-killer, King-hater. What happened to you? Is it a surprise your wife could not love you? You are so bitter, so full of hate. You wanted to love her but you hated yourself so much you couldn’t let her even try to love you.’ Galbrand began to weep. ‘Where is Wulfren? How did he survive?’ ‘Wulfren was found barely alive by people living on the riverbanks in East Emnet. It took him months to remember who he was and what had happened. He was left crippled but has a life he is content with, living with someone he loves and trusts. This he could never have had as the brother of the Lord of Elbrond, you would never have accepted his choice. Not even Erkenbrand knows he is alive. I was called to him on my travels through East Emnet because his friends thought I might be able to heal him, but it was his mind which needed my help. He told me the whole story but never revealed the family names. He felt guilt that he had never told his nephew the truth about his mother. It was only when I was told some of Gallend’s past that I realised Wulfren’s story matched that of your family.’ ‘Tinuven never loved me. She had loved another before we married. I wanted her to love me… but I had already been betrayed.’ ‘You stupid man. She was not a maid on your wedding night for the same reason that I will not be. The reason she became so close to your brother was because he found her weeping alone in the woods where she had gone to escape your temper and she confessed to him what had happened to her. She had been a child and had not dared tell anyone, certainly not her father nor her stepmother. No one would have believed her. The man who raped her was too powerful, too well-respected. It was he who probably told your Astari friend. She had so wanted to be a good wife and to learn to love you, but you turned against her from the very night of your wedding and she did not know what to do.’ ‘Gallend is not my son, even if what you say is true, she became a whore. She was pregnant with the child of another when I killed her and that child was most certainly not mine. Sixteen years of marriage and she was unfaithful throughout.’ ‘And you? Were you faithful?’ ‘Gallend can only be my brother’s child.’ ‘Or yours. But the second child, the one you murdered within her, I agree, that child was most certainly not yours… nor Wulfren’s.’ ‘A servant’s then?’ ‘No.’ ‘There can be no one else. She never left the grounds, not without me. She saw no visitors, unless she was with me. She was always with Wulfren. I tolerated it because I thought…’ ‘Because you believed his interest lay not in women, and you were right...’ ‘But she was with child when she tried to leave me, it could only have been him. It could only have been…’ He stopped suddenly as the truth dawned on him. ‘… Erkenbrand? But Erkenbrand was only twelve when we were married, she was eight years older than him. That’s not possible…’ ‘Your father’s mother had dark red hair, like Gallend, I am told. Much as it will displease him, Gallend is certainly your son and you ordered the deaths of your only grandchildren. This you will have to accept before you die and hope you can find forgiveness from somewhere, as you will not get this from your son.’ ‘He is my son?’ Galbrand’s mind struggled to comprehend the history laid out before him. ‘Tinuven loved Erkenbrand?’ ‘She had no love from you. You cannot blame her, nor him, not when he had always loved her and saw how unhappy and lonely she was. Why do you think he never married?’ she asked in exasperation. ‘He couldn’t go against you himself. You were too like your father, so full of hate and mistrust. It would put her and Gallend in too much danger from your spite. He couldn’t prove that you had killed her, even if it is what he has thought all these years. If he had had proof, I believe you would already be dead, even if that meant his own arrest and trial. Everything he has done has been to protect Gallend. Wulfren realised the unborn child had to be Erkenbrand’s, he had seen their love develop, but this all came much later. Gallend is your son, but he is also the son of the woman Erkenbrand loved and he would die protecting him. Would you? Would you die to protect those you loved? That is what real love is, Galbrand. Think on that.’ Waves of despair and self-loathing washed over Galbrand, all the emotion and the grieving that he had blocked out from that day he had helped his father murder his mother’s lover unravelled within him laying open the raw pain of all that had followed that fateful day. ‘My son… he is my son… What have I done?’ he cried out. ‘Let me die. Let me die now.’ ‘Will you see your son? If I call him here? You still have time to assuage some of the wrongs you have done, you cannot right them, but I believe you may still gain some peace.’ ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- They arrived in Edoras from Elbrond late afternoon two days later. The mood was sombre. The execution of Galbrand had been depressing enough but Lothíriel would leave with Gallend and Genting the next day for Minas Tirith, and then for whatever fate awaited her in Sennebar. Éomer was finding the prospect of her leaving him unbearable. Being so close and yet not being together was weighing heavily on them both. Of all people Amrothos had shown himself to be the most perceptive. Part of the row they had had before Lothíriel wreaked havoc on the statues on the terrace in Aldburg was about his behaviour with Frea. Lothíriel had asked him what his intentions were and whether he intended to inform her about his children. He told her it was none of her business, at which point she shouted if he was going to have yet another child out of wedlock it would obviously become her business and she would prefer it if he did not do it with the cousin of her future husband. ‘You have no right to lecture me on this. I am not the man you so evidently think me to be!’ he had shouted back at her. ‘Frea knows I will be going with you to Sennebar and, although she is ignorant of the details, she is worried sick. She would have a child of mine out of wedlock rather than lose me and have nothing of me left, but if I succumb to her, I realised it’s almost like I am admitting to her that I might not come back. You must not do that to Éomer, Lothi. He is too good a man. You must give him hope.’ ‘Well at least that is something. I’m glad you can show Frea the respect you didn’t show to the mothers of your children! She had screamed back at him petulantly, upset by the wisdom of his words. ‘They are not mine! I refuse to be so slurred any longer.’ ‘What do you mean they are not yours? Then whose are they?’ ‘I swore not to tell anyone, Lothi, not even you… Ha, especially not you.’ ‘Tell me, or I will tell Frea they are yours’ she had threatened, even while knowing she could not. When she learned the truth, her sense of injustice at what lies they had been forced to tell each other had overwhelmed her, but she had had days to reflect on Amrothos’s words regarding Frea and Éomer, and on her own behaviour with the man she loved so desperately. However much she hated to do so, she had to admit that Amrothos was right and she retired alone on her last night in Edoras. As she sat, her travel pack ready, all non-essentials tidied away, she experienced an agony of indecision. She went over and over again Amrothos’s words until… what was it Frea had said? He must have known she would come to him as he had posted no guards at the door to his chambers and she slipped inside under the cover of the Elven cloak of the Rangers of the North, albeit this time wearing some underwear. He was still up, he had been waiting for her, hoping she would come. She flew into his embrace. ‘Lothíriel, my love, I can’t let you go,’ he groaned, kissing her as she straddled him on the bed. He stopped their kisses and softly nuzzling her face, he said, ‘I can’t do this. If you let me take you, it will break me for you to then leave.’ ‘I’m not here to let you take me, Éomer,’ she said between her kisses, as she slipped off her brassiere and thrust her superb breasts onto his bare chest. He pushed her slightly away from him so he could see them in their full magnificence before burying his face into them as he caressed them delicately with his mouth. Her resolve almost broke under the sensuous delight of the sensation of his lips on her skin. She lay him on his back and remained on top of him as she licked him slowly from his navel to under his thin night breeches, which she slowly removed, kissing every part of his body where she revealed his skin to her mouth. He gasped. ‘I am here simply to remember a dream we once both had…’ she whispered as she stroked his hard cock. He pulled her up to him, wanting confirmation of his long-held hope, ‘It was real then? In Dunland? I… we… you…’ as she held his cock purposefully in her hand, smiling coyly. ‘I will come back to you, Éomer,’ she said as she moved to kiss him. He closed his eyes unable to refuse her as she pulsated him firmly and then enveloped his cock in her mouth. With no pain coursing through his body this time, Éomer was able to feel the full force of the orgasm she brought him to in all its overwhelming pleasure. As he calmed from the sensation, he gently placed his fingers where he would have preferred to have put his hard cock and asked her if she would allow him to try to give her a similar experience. Rather than be shocked at such a strange suggestion, Lothíriel smiled and thanked Frea silently for the discreet talk they had had together in Aldburg the night before Lothíriel had left for Elbrond and Frea to Minas Tirith with Hadán and Galador. She had already been excited by having him in her mouth but what she was experiencing as he thrust his tongue deep inside her and then delicately caressed her in exactly the right spot to make her writhe in ecstasy was an explosion of new sensations. She grabbed hold of his head before releasing him almost in a faint. He came up to hold her, her head nestling into his shoulder. They lay quietly together in awed silence before they both gently fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. They woke just before dawn. The household would soon be stirring and he wanted her to return to her chambers undetected. It was too late to do more than rub their naked bodies on each other and give each other one final lingering kiss. ‘I love you,’ they whispered to each other, before she donned the cloak and stole back to her rooms. Their parting later that morning had been difficult but at the same time easier than either had expected. While both Gallend and Genting smiled knowingly to each other when they caught each other’s eyes as they witnessed the parting of the lovers, Éowyn was naive to the signs that Lothíriel and Éomer’s love had deepened, which made Éomer feel somewhat guilty that Éowyn had delayed her own joy for him. Still, in just over two months, she and Faramir would be married, and he and Lothíriel would face their own long separation when she would go to the Northern Realms. That she was facing possible death in Sennebar, his mind refused to consider. He forced himself to look forward to when he would sing the new Wedding Song of Rohan with Lothíriel at his beloved sister’s wedding. As she rode away, Lothíriel’s body was still tingling. Frea had not exaggerated the intensity of what she would feel and still be feeling hours later. She would make it back to him, even if she had to kill every Astari left in Sennebar. |