According to her plans, she had only a narrow window of time available. It would be enough. She had screamed, she had begged; and no corsair would disturb them for at least half an hour. But, sadly, nothing ever happened as planned. Couldn't they have waited a few more minutes? It was rather inconvenient for her right now.
The man who charged into the room was blond. While this alone was exceptional in these parts of the realm, his height was even more impressing. He had to duck his head or he would hit it at the ceiling. Well, this was awkward. Here was she, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, dressed in rags and in the middle of assassinating a corsair lord, and the King of Rohan came to her rescue, of all people.
"Lady, do you need help?" He barked.
Lothiriel fought with herself. It had taken her weeks to come close to her target. She had lived in the streets and eaten the most disgusting things in order to maintain her cover. On the other hand, murdering Assus of Umbar in front of King Eomer left a horrible first impression. And the man was bound and gagged, anyway. Slowly, she let her knife sink. Assus fell forward with a soft thud.
"I think I can manage." She answered. "But I shall remember your kind offer."
The King of Rohan looked around in surprise. He made out who the real threat in this room was within seconds and turned his sword on her. The men behind him followed his example.
Lothiriel took a moment to admire the king in front of her. She had seen a portrait and had rated him as handsome, but he was stunning in real life. He had an aura of energy and life, his raw emotions were displayed on his face, and his whole body radiated fury and passion. A portrait couldn't catch those things. He looked older, too. On his face, she could make out fine lines where there would be deeper ones in twenty years' time. However, they gave his character depth. He certainly didn't look like some youngling. Darkness lingered in those eyes. Two battles against Mordor and all the struggles ruling a war-beaten country brought had shaped him.
If she had chosen the path of a princess, she would have been completely overwhelmed, Lothiriel mused. Gondorian noble ladies weren't prepared for a man as intense and strong as the King of Rohan.
Lothiriel straightened her back.
"Please, don't make rash decisions which are likely to end with my death," she said. "I can explain myself, but I would prefer doing it under more private circumstances. If you would be so nice as to send your warriors away, I would be more than thankful. I promise not to harm you. I can't promise the same for him." She kicked Assus in the side. The hate was inherited.
The King of Rohan warily looked at her.
"Who are you? This isn't possibly some kind of sickening fun between the both of you, is it?"
To her feet, Assus of Umbar groaned desperately.
Since the King of Rohan seemed to be more appalled from the idea that this could be part of an erotical encounter instead of the murder that it was, Lothiriel told him the truth.
"Well, no. He is an enemy of ours. It has taken me some time to track him down. Actually I was about to kill him now, as it would save me from many troubles. I don't know if you are aware who this is? Lord Assus of Umbar, the infamous pirate and slave trader?"
The King of Rohan was thoughtful.
"I know who he is. I came for him, too, although my plan was to make peace between our nations, not to kill him."
He watched her closely. Lothiriel held his gaze and tried not to waver. The King of Rohan came to a conclusion.
"Leave." He ordered his men.
"But, Eomer King, she is dangerous!" One of his warriors objected. Eomer King stared him down.
"Guard the door," he said. "Don't come in unless I call you, and don't let anyone pass."
The men silently retreated and closed the door behind them.
The King of Rohan crossed the room with long strides. Lothiriel fought the urge to raise her knife in defense when he came nearer. He only passed her and she exhaled slowly. Being next to such a huge man reminded her how small and weak her body was. However, he shouldn't underestimate her. Her body might be weak, but she was fast and skilled and had brought death among creatures more frightening than him.
The King of Rohan heavily sat down and poured himself a glass of wine.
"Did you poison it?" He asked. "If not, please sit down. Let's have a talk about what we are going to do with him and with each other."
Dumbstruck, Lothiriel did as he bid. He gave her the glass. "Try it."
That was just dumb.
"No, I most certainly will not," she said. "I prefer the method of killing my victims face to face, but there are many people who wish him dead. Drinking his wine would be not the wisest of actions."
The King of Rohan smiled regretfully and put the glass down. The nerves of this man… He smiled! Lothiriel couldn't believe her eyes. Had he been as temperamental as it was told, she probably would have been dead already.
"You are right," he said. "Although a drink would be nice."
Lothiriel surprised herself with offering her own wine. What? Nobody saw what was in the waterskin. As long as she behaved like some poor tavern wench, it didn't raise suspicion if the waterskin contained the best wine Gondor had to offer.
The King of Rohan watched her taking a sip first before he allowed her to pour him some into a new glass.
"May Rohan prosper under your reign, and may your children live in peace and safety."
The King of Rohan raised his eyebrows.
"So you know who I am," he said. "Well, I don't know who you are or if I should wish you luck."
Lothiriel drank.
"I am Lothiriel of Dol Amroth," she said. There was no sense in denying it. "And I am in service of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. However, please don't announce my name and my connection to anyone."
The King of Rohan nodded but didn't let her out of his eyes.
"Gondor, then," he said. "That makes us… allies?"
"I guess," Lothiriel said.
"Courtesy demands that I introduce myself officially, although you are aware who I am. I am Eomer, King of Rohan."
He looked at the bundle on the floor.
"Admittedly, you would do me a great favour if you got rid of him. Still, the whole tavern saw me entering the room."
"That's too bad," Lothiriel agreed. The King of Rohan was pragmatic. She liked that. And he didn't trust her, that much was obvious. He would be foolish to do so. But he was willing to work with her, although he didn't really have a choice. If she decided to kill Assus now, it would be easy to blame it on him. He was extremely lucky that she was, indeed, bound to honour and her country, and not a simple assassin. Maybe they both were lucky. If he had been one of the corsairs, the likelihood of her survival would have been dim. Lothiriel was tense. In situations like these, her body vibrated and blood pumped loudly in her veins. She constantly fought against her instincts which told her to flee, and all the while she had to look calm from the outside.
"We have to make sure that he is seen alive after you left the room," she said.
The King of Rohan groaned and threw her an accusing look.
"My intention was to save a damsel in distress, and now I find myself in a situation where I have to plan the secret death of a man. That's not how I envisioned this evening to end. Why can't we just let him go?"
Assus of Umbar nodded enthusiastically. He was unshaven and ugly. Lothiriel was aware that not everybody was blessed with good looks, but his ugliness came from years of self-neglect. His teeth were brown and the hair was greasy, the only thing clean about him was his sword. It lay in the corner now. She clenched her teeth.
"This man is responsible for the deaths of more than four hundred Gondorian warriors. During the Ring War, he fought on Sauron's side. In the last twenty years he raided our cities and killed numerous children and women, or worse, enslaved them. Just because he is helpless now, and you find it honourless to kill a helpless man, doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to die."
"The only difference here is that you have to look him in the eyes. In the battle, your enemies are just bodies in which you bury your sword. They don't have back-stories, and you don't know their motives. It is easier to kill hundreds of men and orcs in a murderous frenzy than having to deal with a breathing, living and thinking person. I heard the stories, so don't deny it, Eomer, King of Rohan! Believe me, we have tried to negotiate. But this man is evil to the core. I know why he deserves to die, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to kill him. And if we let him go now, he will continue to destroy cities and murder innocent people. This time he will want to take revenge on Gondor. I will not let this happen!"
Lothiriel had stood up while talking, rage boiling inside her. She nearly forgot how intimidating the King of Rohan was. Then she got a grip on herself.
She became aware that the King of Rohan watched her with an unreadable expression.
"I didn't even know that Gondorians train Shieldmaidens, or whatever you are," he said. Distracted, Lothiriel stared at him. Then she slowly exhaled. A plan formed in her mind.
"I got carried away. I apologise."
The King of Rohan waved with his hand. Her anger slowly dissipated. The people of Dol Amroth had fought against the corsairs for their whole life. She had heard stories of Assus since she was a mere child. She didn't know if the King of Rohan knew of the relations between Umbar and Gondor, but probably not.
One of the reasons she hadn't grown up with dancing lessons and embroidery was her uncle Denethor. When alive, he had been a ruthless man. There had been the probability of being married off to some pirate in order to preserve peace. She rather died defending her country than having to share a bed with one of those barbarians. The lords and ladies of Minas Tirith had never understood that there was no way to peacefully unite Umbar and Gondor, but on the other hand, never had they seen a by pirates burnt down village.
However, the King of Rohan did not know this. It was more important to find a way out of this compromising situation than to explain her point of view. She already had an idea.
"You want to say something. Go ahead."
Idly Lothiriel wondered how much exactly growing up with a sister had formed him. While her brothers had been resistant against female influence, the King of Rohan seemed to have caught up quite a bit. Her brothers were never able to tell when there was something Lothiriel wanted to say. In their opinion, only the one who yelled the loudest deserved to be heard. She suppressed the utterly inappropriate and sissyish feeling of being appreciated.
"You leave," she said. "And I will give him something to sleep. Then I will leave as well and send someone up so everyone knows he is still alive. Afterwards I will climb up the facade and get it over with. It's not perfect," she admitted. "but right now I can't think of a better plan."
The King of Rohan regarded her closely. Holding his gaze was hard, but Lothiriel didn't waver. She noticed that his eyes were of a clear, icy blue. They seemed to bore into her. She shivered but forbid herself to lower her eyes. Eventually, he stood up and bowed.
"That's alright for me," he said. "I trust you to keep my reputation clean. It was an honour to meet you, my Lady."
There was a sparkle in his eyes, but Lothiriel discarded it as unimportant. He left the room. Through the door she could hear him order his men: "We leave. There is nothing for us to see here."
Lothiriel breathed out, her heartbeat still racing. Loud footsteps went down the stairs until there was nothing left to hear except for the general noise of the tavern- people singing, dancing and drinking. The room suddenly felt empty. Lothiriel glanced down at Assus of Umbar, who looked nothing like the great pirate lord he used to be.
"Well," she said. "Better get going."
She forced ten drops of sleeping draught into his mouth. After a few moments his body went slack. She dragged him to the bed. He was incredibly heavy, and little beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Finally she put him on the sheets. She undressed him and was revolted by the smell his body radiated. The ropes came away and finally he looked as if he was peacefully taking a nap after an exhausting shag.
The sword was leant against the wall next to the bed. When she couldn't spot anything suspicious in the room, she left.
Downstairs, she was greeted with hollers and laughter. There were a few blond men in the corner, but the majority of the guests were locals and corsairs. They thought she had bedded their leader. Since she had screamed, it wouldn't have been voluntary. Oh, how she hated these lands and his habitants!
"Assus…" she said to the barmaid, feigning weakness in her voice. Then she coughed and continued in a stronger voice, well heard by everyone. "Lord Assus demands another bottle of your best wine. He got quite… thirsty." The men laughed again.
The barmaid gave her a pitying look. "I will go," she offered.
"Thank you." Lothiriel said with a relieved smile. She then left the tavern, but not without being grabbed or slapped on the bottom multiple times.
She was more than glad when she made it outside. There was no moon tonight. She went to the back of the house and waited for about half an hour. The noise inside grew even louder. She saw Assus' room being lit up by a candle and a shadow. Then it was dark again. Lothiriel waited a few more moments.
When she was sure nobody was in the room except for her target, she grabbed the ivy. It was firm enough to hold her. Carefully she climbed up until she reached the window to Assus' room. Silently she got inside and whipped her dagger out. It was a short and messy affair. Tomorrow they would find him in bloody sheets and with his throat slit open.
The way down was easier. Lothiriel jumped and landed on both hands and feet. She straightened herself and calmed her ragged breathing. She felt lightheaded and closed her eyes for a second. No one would see her, as she stood in the dark anyway.
Lothiriel found out how wrong this assumption was when she suddenly was grabbed from behind. She gasped, but was immediately silenced by a big hand on her mouth.
"Bring her to my room," she heard someone whisper. It was the King of Rohan.
Lothiriel held her eyes shut and concentrated on her breathing. They carried her down the street and when the air changed, she knew they were inside a house. Reluctantly she opened her eyes. Rohirric men crowded the room. She didn't even think of fighting them. They simply were too many. Eventually, she was put into a room with a bed and a chair, but no window. The door was shut.
The dizziness didn't subside, and Lothiriel staggered to the next wall and slumped down. It would be really bad to puke now. She put her head between her knees and deeply breathed in and out. Sweet Elbereth, what had she gotten herself into?
The door opened. Lothiriel was too caught up in her own world to notice it. Suddenly the King of Rohan stood before her and she jerked, drawing her dagger. Strange; they hadn't even taken it.
"Whoa, whoa!" He said and took a hasty step back. "Are you alright?"
What a weird question, Lothiriel thought. Of course she was alright.
She was startled when the King of Rohan kneeled down in front of her. He took her hand and carefully retrieved the knife out of her firm grip.
"I will give it back to you," he promised. "I just don't want to get accidentally stabbed by you."
Lothiriel only stared at him. There were at least five more daggers hidden in her clothes.
"Oh, come on," he sighed. He leant forward, never making an abrupt movement, and scooped her up.
Surprised, she clung to his shirt as he carried her to the bed. Today she was carried around a lot, it seemed. Instead of dropping her off, he merely sat down. His arms were still tightly around her.
Lothiriel didn't know how long he held her. At some point, the giddiness left her body and the shaking of her hands ceased. With no tension left she got more and more exhausted. The King of Rohan was a good pillow. He smelled nice, too. Why exactly he did embrace her while she was having a mental breakdown was lost to her. She cuddled closer to his chest and his strong beating heart. There was a low chuckle above her, but she didn't open her eyes. It felt as if the rest of the world, everything that had led to this moment, didn't exist. And there was no sense in questioning the events of tonight, anyway.
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AN: While the last chapter of Edoras : A History is in work, I decided to put that shorty online.