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Heirs of the Oath
Deep night reigned outside the firelit hall, the king long since retired, yet still the Steward’s heir held forth, tale following song in the warm companionship of ale. Eomer sat spellbound with the rest, entranced by this vivid guest. Theodred, beside him, watched with enjoyment also, yet Eomer sensed in his cousin reserve, observation rather than revelry.
“Why so thoughtful, brother? Tonight is for merriment!”
Theodred smiled, eyes still on Boromir. “Someday we shall stand as Cirion and Eorl to each other, he and I. I would know the measure of the man to whom I will give my oath.”
* * *
The name of Eru echoed through the silence, as once before in this holy place. Elessar stood wreathed in flames of setting sun, oath renewed forever.
Then he descended from the star-flowered mound, and in twilight the two kings and their companions made their way down the stair. Once withdrawn far enough speech no longer seemed desecration, Aragorn turned to Eomer. “Now we stand as Cirion and Eorl to each other. May we always prove faithful heirs to their friendship.”
Eomer nodded, mute. Heirs also to two others, who never stood thus. To them too may we prove ever faithful.
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