A/N1: CM Cruz sent me a PM suggesting this plotline, and it took root, though it necessitated quite a bit of research to provide details to flesh it out. Yes, here it is, yet another in my long line of Eomer/Lothiriel scenarios!

There are THREE A/Ns to this story. Two are at the end rather than here. Be sure to check them out.

Okay, fYr3 ph03nix, have at it!

Tutelage

Chapter 1

(16 July, 3019 III)

Despite what she had read, Lothiriel was not entirely prepared for the approach to Minas Tirith from the Harlond. As her carriage drew near the battered city, she leaned out the window for a better look, imagining the events unfolding before her eyes, though she had not been here to witness them personally.

The Captains of the West leading their host towards the City…the great gate missing, but a barrier placed across the entrance…her cousin, Faramir, standing with Hurin and other captains of Gondor, awaiting their approach…the Lady Eowyn of Rohan and other of the Rohirrim also arrayed nearby…and a great press of people bedecked in colorful raiment and wearing garlands of flowers. Oh! It must have been magnificent to see such!

And, then, the hush that fell as out from the host stepped the Dunadain in silver and grey…slowly led by the Lord Aragorn, clad in black mail girt with silver, wearing a long mantle of pure white, clasped at the throat with a great jewel of green stone. The King! With him were Eomer of Rohan and her own father, Prince Imrahil, as well as Gandalf and the four Hobbits! Oh, how she wished she might have seen it! But the historians had done a fair job, and she could well imagine it in her mind's eye.

"Lothiriel?"

Her brother's voice jolted her from her reverie, and she blinked at him, riding alongside the carriage. "Yes?" she asked, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

"Is something wrong, sister? Why do you lean from the carriage so? What has captured your attention?" Erchirion looked around trying to spy something of great interest in their vicinity.

"I am well, brother. I was just thinking what it must have been like to witness that exciting day, when the king returned and Faramir handed over rule of the City to him!" she gushed enthusiastically.

He bit back a grin, and smiled tolerantly at her. "It was marvelous indeed, but it will be less so if you fall from the carriage and take an injury! Do be seated safely inside."

She scowled at him, but did as he bid her, flipping open her book once more to reread of the events she had just been pondering. Perhaps later she could slip away and wander through the city, to visit the other places the writer had mentioned in his tales of the War and its aftermath.

As soon as the carriage entered the city, however, Lothiriel was back at the window scanning around her for signs of damage. She knew much had already been done to remove the scars and repair the devastation, but surely there was some lingering indication of battle.

Fires now raged unchecked in the first circle of the City, and the garrison upon the outer wall was already in many places cut off from retreat. But the faithful who remained there at their posts were few; most had fled beyond the second gate. Before they reached that gate, she finally glimpsed some scorch marks on hard-to-reach walls. And, come to think of it, there did seem to be fewer buildings on this level than she recalled from her previous visits. Likely some had been torn down and removed, and not yet replaced with new constructions.

Sitting back, she pondered what it must have been like to be here during the siege. She knew that only a few women had remained in the city. Only those skilled in healing, or able to assist the healers, had been permitted to tarry and offer assistance. She shivered as she thought of them; how valiant they must be to weather such horrors. She was not at all sure she could have done so, even if she had the skills that would have allowed it.

Too quickly, the carriage reached her father's townhouse on the fifth level, and drew to a stop by the entrance to the courtyard. A servant helped her down, and Imrahil stepped over to welcome her. "Dearest! I am so pleased to have you here. I have missed you most dreadfully, but Elessar has had much need of counsel as he seeks to restore the White City to her former glory, and see her people secured."

Lothiriel flung her arms about him, hugging him tightly. "I have missed you also, Father! I am so glad you are well."

As she finally released him and stepped back, his eyes fell on the book in her hand, and he gave a chuckle as he shook his head. "I see some things have not changed!" He nodded toward the book and she blushed guiltily.

"I have been reading about the War, so I might know what to expect," she defended, and he allowed her the pretense.

Changing subjects, he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and led her toward the house. "Come inside. I have dinner being prepared. Eomer should be arriving any day now, and then we will travel to Rohan for King Theoden's funeral. It will be a long and tiring journey, dearest, so you ought to take rest while you can."

She digested this information as they walked. Her father had summoned them to Minas Tirith, but not said explicitly what the reason was, so this announcement was unexpected, but decidedly welcome. Rohan! Oh, there would be so much to see, both along the way and once she got there. Mentally she began reviewing the books she had brought as to which might tell her the most about that land and, after a moment, she decided a visit to the library would be in order. She hoped it had not been damaged too severely or, worse, destroyed.

They had reached the stairs, and she bid her father a hasty farewell as she scurried up to wash her face and hands before the meal. Perhaps she would be able to slip away this afternoon and peruse the library. Hopefully her family would not insist that she attend some boring gathering with them…

xxx

This was frustrating! How could Minas Tirith's library, the finest in all of Gondor, if not all of Middle-earth, have so little on Rohan and its history! Oh, there was a good deal about treaties and battles and such, but not about the people and their history. She wanted to know who they were and how their lives differed from hers. All their stories of valor seemed to involve war – surely there were stories also to be heard of romance and intrigue! She cast an unseen scowl at the librarian, who had been less than sympathetic to her plight. He merely explained that the Rohirrim were far more likely to keep verbal histories, capturing such things in songs, than to write them in books, and Gondorian scholars had not much pursued doing it for their neighbors.

Well, at least she had discovered a fairly decent map, that the man had assured her he thought was reasonably accurate! Such incompetence! Whyever was he employed here! Settling at an out-of-the-way table, she spread out the few books she had gathered, using some to hold down the edges of the map. Adding to her annoyance, the man had informed her she could not take any of these things from the library, as they only had the one copy of each and could not risk loss or damage! At least he had been willing to let her have some sheets of paper and a pencil. She would just have to copy what she could glean from her readings. Deciding the map was the unwieldiest of her bounty, she first set to work sketching it out. That would familiarize her with the land before she began to read of it…

Two hours later, a shadow fell over the book she was reading, and she glanced up in annoyance to instruct whoever was there to move. It was Amrothos, and he stood gazing accusingly at her with his arms crossed. Ignoring his posture, she calmly told him, "You are blocking my light!"

"And you are going to make us late for having supper with the king and queen if you do not come home at once and change!" he retorted.

His words made her pause. Not that she cared all that much about attending a boring state feast, but this would make for her first glimpse of Elves, and the new king and queen, and hobbits… Resolutely she shut the book she was reading, slipping a bit of paper in to mark her place. Hastily she gathered everything up and took it to the librarian, who was reluctant but eventually agreed to her persistent demands that he set the materials aside for her, so she would be able to return and easily resume her study of them.

Amrothos made no comment on her activities, merely hustling her out of the building as quickly as possible. They were soon home and Lothiriel raced to her room, thinking not of what to wear but of what she would witness this night. Her maidservant had laid out clothing already, and quickly began seeing her washed and properly attired, though clearly she did not have Lothiriel's attention through any of it. When she finished, Lothiriel cast her an absentminded smile and 'Thank you' before returning out the door to meet her family in the lower foyer.

As they walked, Lothiriel discovered that tonight was not to be a feast as she had thought, but rather a smaller gathering at the king's house with just a select group. At first this information dismayed her, but then she decided it would be much easier to make a close study of the guests in such a limited setting than if they were in the great Hall of Feasts. She knew once the King of Rohan arrived, there would yet be feasting for a larger gathering, so she still had that to which she might look forward.

They were just entering the Court of the Fountain when she became aware of her surroundings. She skidded to a halt and gave a gasp at the sight she beheld. "The tree!" she exclaimed in awe. She had not come to the Citadel all that often in her life, but every time she had, it had been disheartening to see the dead, barren tree in the midst of the fountain. Now, instead, there stood a vibrant sapling, more than three feet tall and blossoming in a most healthy manner!

Her father smiled indulgently as he caught her elbow and urged her on. "Yes, dearest. I had forgotten you had not yet seen it. But another time, if you please. We are late!"

She stumbled after him, still craning her neck to look back at the tree fading into the twilight. Finally she lost sight of it around the corner of the Tower Hall, and turned her attention back to their destination. So much! There was so very much to see! How on earth could she ever take it all in! And she must find books to explain how this had come to be…

This was her very first visit to the King's House. It was evident that her father and brothers had better acquaintance with the place, but she gazed about in wonder. And then they were approaching the king and queen. Oh, he was just as the books had described him, and the Elf also! '…so high and glad of face, kingly, lord of Men, dark-haired with eyes of grey' Yes, certainly that! Oh, he was magnificent! And could there be anyone more beautiful than the Elf-woman smiling serenely beside him?

"Your majesties, may I introduce my daughter, Lothiriel," Imrahil said, offering a bow.

His words broke her reverie, and hastily Lothiriel dropped into the expected curtsy, executing it somewhat less than flawlessly in her haste. A smile twitched at the man's mouth, but he did not seem displeased with her lack of finesse as he reached to take her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "My dear lady, it is a very great pleasure. Your father and brothers have spoken most warmly of you, so much that I almost feel as though I know you already."

Lothiriel's breath caught in her throat and her eyes went wide. He was so…so charming! He was wondrous! "Thank…thank you, my lord! The pleasure is all mine!" she squeaked, annoyed with her discomfiture.

Now the queen stepped forward likewise and took her hand, but leaned to place a kiss on her cheek. "Welcome, Lady Lothiriel, to our home," she said quietly, her words sounding almost musical.

Lothiriel gulped and gave a broad smile, but was able to utter nothing more than a less-than-satisfying repeat of, "Thank you! It is an honor!"

Her brothers moved forward then, to give greeting also, and she stepped aside to make way, still trying to assimilate all that was happening. In a daze, Lothiriel let herself be ushered into the small dining chamber by Erchirion, where her eyes fell upon another intriguing sight – halflings! For they are a little people, smaller than Dwarves: less stout and stocky, that is, even when they are not actually much shorter. Their height is variable, ranging between two and four feet of our measure.

Her brow wrinkled as she remembered her readings on them. Mostly it seemed true – these four were rather small and stocky – but two of them seemed quite a bit taller than four feet, maybe even four and a half feet or slightly more. Even one of the others was easily four feet if not a tad over.

They dressed in bright colours, being notably fond of yellow and green; but they seldom wore shoes, since their feet had tough leathery soles and were clad in a thick curling hair, much like the hair of their heads, which was commonly brown. Yes, yes, that was so! All four wore some shade of green in their clothing, and none wore shoes. She had to resist the urge to stare at the unusual appendages with the thick hair curling on them.

King Elessar was making introductions, and she drew her attention back to what was happening. Her brothers and father were already acquainted with the foursome and were cordially greeting them, but at last it was her turn and she stepped forward eagerly. The fairest of the four was called Frodo, and he had bright eyes and a cleft in his chin. Even so, there was a sadness in his eyes. This was the Ringbearer, she recalled, and she could not help wondering at what he must have suffered, but she was not comfortable attempting to draw him out on that subject. Perhaps her family could tell her more of the details later on. Beside Frodo stood the stoutest of the four. His name was given as Samwise Gamgee, and his manner was much more down to earth. He seemed the most humble and ill at ease, though she found him quite endearing.

The final two stood together, impishly grinning at her. They were also the tallest, taller than she had been led to expect. Though brown did seem to be the usual color of hair for halflings, one of these had hair that was almost golden. Both had wide smiles, and they elbowed each other to be the first to greet her and kiss her hand. She liked them immediately. One could almost think they were children, by their looks and their antics, but she knew that both were actually older than she was.

Barely having adjusted to this meeting, she was now presented to a most unusual sight – an Elf and a Dwarf, that stood side by side in an obviously friendly companionship. This could only be two more of the Nine Walkers, Legolas and Gimli. She offered them her finest curtsy as she was introduced. The Elf was all she had expected of the fair folk and more. Could a man possibly be any more…beautiful than this? That thought in her mind, she was startled when the object of her admiration addressed her with similar appreciation.

"In you, even more than your family, I see evidence of the rumored connection between your kinfolk and the Elves. You would not be out of place in any of the Elven realms, my lady," he observed quietly, giving her a gentle smile.

The Dwarf let out a throaty chuckle. "What a charmer you are, laddie! See, you already have the little girl blushing!"

Lothiriel blinked at being classified as a 'little girl', but the Dwarf gave no indication of intending to offend, so she ignored the remark. Perhaps in his lands anyone so young as she would be deemed such.

Queen Arwen was now directing all to the table and, though Lothiriel was used to assigned seating, that was not the case here. Each was settling in whatever chair they first reached, or with whomever they desired to converse. Only the king and queen seemed to have a fixed place, and they took their seats at the head of the table.

Lothiriel found herself across from the two more cheerful hobbits, Merry and Pippin, and she watched in astonishment as the food began to arrive. In short order, both had heaping plates, and they did not take long to work their way through the sizable portions and reach for seconds. To her right, Samwise was also eating heartily, though she caught a few murmured remarks about the food and ways in which it could be prepared more tastily. For the most part, Frodo remained silent through much of the meal, though he did respond whenever anyone addressed him.

Legolas proved the quieter of the unlikely twosome, which did not surprise her a great deal, but Lothiriel did not expect the occasional sarcastic remark he made to his stout friend, and which never failed to make the Dwarf laugh heartily. Not that Gimli required much encouragement to laugh. He seemed a most jovial fellow, particularly once he got some ale into him, and she noticed that most in the room tended to look on his rough manners with a rather fond gaze. In anyone else, she suspected they would not be quite so tolerant, but this particular individual was clearly dear to them.

Unlike many evenings dining with nobility, this one was most pleasant to Lothiriel's way of thinking, though she yet had many questions she desperately wanted to ask. Everyone in the gathering had been so comfortable together that she had felt a bit like an outsider, and thus was uncharacteristically quiet and reserved. Still, having discovered that all present would be making the trek to Rohan in a few days, she knew she would have further opportunity to speak with them and make exciting discoveries. Other than her family members, virtually every one of them could have walked straight out of the pages of her books – Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, and even the king was a Dunadain Ranger from the north originally! As the night was coming to an end fairly early, she looked forward to getting home so she could reread passages in several of her books to compare to what her own eyes and ears had taken in this evening.

TBC

A/N2: The parts in italic, where Lothiriel is "imagining" seeing things she has read about, are paraphrases taken directly from Tolkien. Tolkien's descriptions are reworked into being Lothiriel's "thoughts". In some places, others will describe things that happened and their words will also be direct or paraphrased quotes from Tolkien, though that will not be evident from any markings.

Additionally, although the Appendix indicates Eomer returned to M.T. for Theoden on July 18 and left on the 19th, that does not match the actual text. Aragorn tells Frodo they will leave in 7 days, and that Eomer will be there in 3. That leaves 4 days for Eomer to remain before heading back to Rohan. Also, the text says the trip took 15 days, which would not be the case if they left on the 19th, since they arrive on Aug. 7. So they must have left on July 22.

Caladael – "pool of light"

Edre – "stream"

Durraen – "dark wanderer"

Theodhild – "people's battle"

Tortleoth – "bright song"

tutelage - the act or process of imparting knowledge or skills to another

A/N3: Okay, since many of you also write LOTR stories, you may find this useful. I recalled recently seeing something indicating when Faramir and Eowyn were married, but couldn't remember where. And then someone mentioned they thought they had read somewhere that F/E had married at Edoras. So I finally started digging to see what I could come up with on that.

First, Faramir and Eowyn: In LOTR, we know they trothplighted in Edoras on Aug. 10, but no other details are given that indicates when/where they actually married.

In "History of Middle Earth, vol 12", on pg 207 it says that Faramir wed Eowyn in 3020, and then on pg 244 it says he "wed Eowyn in 3020 in the king's house in Rohan".

It would make more sense to me that they would wed at the home of the highest ranking of the pair, which would be Faramir in this case. I have tended to have them marrying in the autumn of 3019 prior to this.

xx

Second, Eomer and Lothiriel: In LOTR, Appendix A, part II, it says that "In the last year of the Third Age he wedded Lothiriel". Thain's Book online indicates that they married in 3020.

In "History of Middle Earth, vol 12", on pg 244 it says "Eomer married Lothiriel in 3022 (or Fourth Age 1)".

There are a couple of problems here. One is how we interpret what Tolkien meant by "last year of the Third Age", and there are quite a few possibilities to choose from on that. Additionally, in this case the information in the Appendix would seem to contradict what is found in HoME (particularly since it seems to specifically indicate that 3022 was the first year of the Fourth Age).

So, it is up to you whether or not to consider HoME as canon or not. As for me, I likely will continue as I have been, and primarily stick to the actual text/appendix information as my "canon", though I may use other information if it suits a given storyline to do so. Others will have a different opinion on the matter.

Tolkien sometimes contradicted himself, and often seems to have changed his mind on details, so I don't know that minor changes to what he wrote should be considered "AU". And just the variations in Tolkien's different writings about Middle Earth rather invites us to explore any or all of the various possibilities.

Still, I think we have a lot of leeway, whatever we decide upon. But I pass this along for what it may be worth to anyone else.