Gleina na Agar: LOTR story (Reader)

The King's Decision

Funerals had never been something you enjoyed, no matter who it was, if you knew them or not, they were never pleasant. Something about it cried out against everything you believed in, like we had never been meant to perish in life. Though you had the tremendous honor of taking part of the procession to the grave, you didn't feel like you belonged there. King Theoden held himself well for someone who had just lost his only son. He probably felt more shock than grief, you thought.

Theodred, the prince of Rohan was borne by six royal guards, small, pale white flowers in his grip called Simbelmyne. You had caught a glimpse of the prince's face, and was certain of how fair in countenance he was in life, and even in death. The burial mounds outside the city were covered in those small white flowers as the people lined the streets in mourning for their lost prince. Eowyn, the king's nice and white lady, began to sing, even through her grief. A beautiful, somehow powerful voice came from her. You decided then that you liked her. You may not have been able to understand the language, but you found it to honor the prince well:

"Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended

giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende

on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære

his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost.

Bealo..."*

You stroked the silken petals of the simbelmyne, twirling the stem between your fingers as you thought. This was the first funeral you had witnessed in Middle Earth, and something stirred in you, making you want to be alone for a few moments. You found a comfortable spot upon the steps up to Meduseld, giving you a grand view of the kingdom of Rohan. Vast and barren, with only the wind to inhabit it, this place echoed freedom, finally now that the king was no longer under a curse.

You brushed a wild strand of hair from your face, remembering the funeral. Looking upon the procession earlier... you could feel the grief the people had for their prince, and wondered... What if you had died here? You've had plenty of chances in this journey. The Nazgul on Weathertop, the avalanche in the mountains, the monster in the lake, all throughout Moria, to being an Uruk-hai captive. One little accident and you could've ceased to exist.

Would you be mourned in the same way? Would you be remembered? Or worse, would Sauron gain your power if you were dead?! And what about your family back home? What on earth are they wondering about you? Have they already given up?... Perhaps. It's been a long time since you first set foot in this realm. Did they hold a funeral for you?

You sighed, plucking one of the petals to watch it float away in the wind. There was no knowing what was going on back home. This place~ Middle Earth was your home now, and the people in it were your family. Best to focus your energies where it mattered, you thought.

A small commotion slowly gathered beneath you as a group of soldiers hustled up the steps and into Meduseld, two dirty, frightened children under their wing. Your curiosity got the better of you as you stood up from your place, letting the simbelmyne fall into the wind. Rounding the corner in through the large doors, you peered in to see the fellowship and the children before the king relating their story. Melduseld was no longer cold and dark, but bright and filled with warmth as fires blazed in every corner. The colors were so much more brilliant. The reds, golds and greens hung everywhere in bright tapestries and flags. It finally looked worthy of a kingdom.

Walking up as quietly as you could without disturbing them, you whispered into Legolas' ear, "What's all this about?"

He leaned in, keeping his voice to a minimum, "Two survivors from a nearby village. It seems Saruman was true to his threat to take out Rohan."