Chapter 3 – Éomer’s Revenge

It had been several days since this all began and Éomer was beginning to smell a little better, but his hair had been deplorable, so Éowyn had cropped it short; it now came down only to his shoulders. Needless to say, he had been loudly opposed to the idea, but there was no arguing with her and the hair came off just the same.

The one bright point in his life at the moment was that he had been allowed back in his own quarters. It mattered little now that he smelled terrible because the entire palace now reeked. They had also found that by sleeping in the loft, he had ruined several bushels of otherwise perfectly good hay. It was now unfit to feed to pigs, much less the best horses in the land.

Théoden King had moved himself from his own room to one on the opposite end of the palace usually reserved for honored guests. They had not seen Grima since the incident under the window, and frankly they did not care. Éowyn, now recovered from the hilarity of her brother’s predicament, had returned to her quieter, grimmer mood of before.

As the early morning sun’s rays lifted over the city, Éomer sat brooding on the steps of Meduseld, a small cup of mead in his hand. They had tried to keep The Hole, as it was now called, blocked as much as possible, but several of the king’s hunting dogs had managed to blunder their way to the point of no return. They were soon after found yelping and scurrying their way through the town, the now well-known smell spreading in their wake.

Éomer, growling irritably under his breath, tossed the remainder of his drink to the ground and stood, stretching his arms high over his head. He stopped suddenly in mid-stretch. There, waddling along as if he owned the place, was the accursed skunk! Éomer cursed vehemently, startling the guards at the door. "I am going to get that Yvel Feonde!"

He grabbed a spear, wrenching it from the nearest unsuspecting guard’s hand. Creeping stealthily down the stairs, he followed the beast silently around the corner. As the polecat stopped to investigate an obstacle in its path, Éomer poised, motionless for a moment, before hurling his weapon with all his might. As it hit the mark, felling the smelly, disgusting animal, Éomer let loose with the Rohirric victory cry, startling the people around him. The Awful Beast was vanquished.

An invisible cloud of fumes burst forth from the animal as it lay, skewered on the ground. It drifted in his direction, causing Éomer to gag. The stench was putrid, but at least they would soon be rid of it. He gingerly lifted his victim, holding the very end of the spear to avoid as much of the smell as possible.

He carried it until he was satisfied with his distance from the palace, then he dug a deep hole. Dumping spear and all in it, he covered it and packed it all down as much as he could, stomping until his boot soles were covered in moist dirt which Éowyn would no doubt force him to clean off the floors should he tracked it in.

Content, he slowly treaded his way back home, stopping to wipe his boots in a patch of tall grass. The King was still under the influence of the Snake, the palace still smelled, his hair was cropped short and a lot of the winter’s hay had been ruined, but things were looking up.

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A/N  This is my take on why Éomer had such short hair in the movie since in the book he was supposed to have a long braid.

Also, by the time Gandalf and his companions showed up, the palace had had sufficient time to air out and Eomer no longer stank. No doubt doors were left open, windows were left unshuttered and The Hole was filled in as quickly as possible. 

Thanks go out to all who have read this far and taken the time to leave a review. Thanks for the encouragement, y’all.

Chigger