A/N: Slow in coming, but finally eked out. Have had the idea for some time, but the execution wasn't developing so quickly as I would like, and turmoil in the real world seemed determined to interfere. My thanks to Glorybee for her encouragement and corrections, and to Lady Bluejay and Lialathuveril for their input on bridge and ferry matters (it will make sense later).
I'm a little undecided on the last chapter, so I will be posting a chapter every other day. That will give me time to consider (and make) changes to it before it posts.
Near Misses
Chapter 1
(May, 3019 III)
"We shall see you soon, Eomer, and join you in carrying Theoden King home for burial. Until then, be well, my friend." Imrahil extended his hand, but Eomer drew him into an embrace instead.
After a moment, he murmured fervently, "I can never thank you enough for the rescue of my sister. Whatever my misgivings about her desire to wed Lord Faramir, I cannot be unhappy about a closer connection to you and your family."
Imrahil drew back and smiled. "Nor can I!"
As everyone else seemed ready for departure, the Prince stepped back out of the way to allow others their final farewell with the king before he mounted. The party of Rohirrim made their way slowly down through the city streets, lined with citizens come out to wave a last goodbye to their new friends.
Elessar stepped in beside Imrahil and commented quietly, " 'Tis a pity your daughter could not come for the celebrations. I should like for her to have met Eomer."
A grin tweaked the Prince's mouth and he glanced sideways at his king. "Does your new role as sovereign over Gondor include matchmaking?"
Elessar chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Not officially, but I would see my people – and my friend – find joy and happiness now that war is ended. Eomer needs a good woman, both as a wife and as a queen. Surely your daughter would be most appropriate."
Imrahil nodded. "That thought had crossed my mind, as well, but knowing the both of them, it will matter little what we think about it. If they do not reach that same determination, we hope in vain. I am certain neither will allow themselves to be pressured into uniting if they do not find it a desirable union for themselves."
"Well," Elessar acknowledged, "for the moment we may continue to hope, until they definitely choose otherwise. And certainly we may make the introduction so that nature may take its course, if it will. I have no qualms about that! They cannot love if they do not first meet!"
While Eomer and Lothiriel were equally unaware of this conversation, marriage had entered both their thoughts already, though not specifically with regard to one another.
Eomer knew that it was going to be challenging to find a woman he could love now that he was king, and that he must choose carefully. At least with the renewed relations between Rohan and Gondor, his field of search had increased, though part of him thought his people might prefer a queen from their own lands. But he would not restrict himself in that regard. He would consider all who appealed to him, regardless of their birthplace. If he wished the Mark to prosper, then he must be content in his choice of wife.
For Lothiriel's part, matters were both simpler and more complex. As the daughter of Imrahil, she was somewhat limited in her choices of a husband. Taking up with a stable boy or fisherman would not be well received by the people of Gondor, and she could only hope that someone of the nobility would strike her fancy. At present, of those she knew, she could not say that was so, but she was sure there were a great many she had not met. With the spectre of war hanging over them, she had spent very little time at Minas Tirith in recent years, so possibly there was someone agreeable in the White City. Many rumors had also reached Dol Amroth about the new king of Rohan, and the ladies were much delighted to learn that he was in want of a wife. She was sure there would be those who would wish her to make that match, if she could manage it. She was not opposed to the idea, not yet anyway, but until she met the man, she would not commit herself in any way. She could not fully dictate who she married, but as much as possible she intended to do it on her own terms and not merely those that society foisted upon her.
xxxxx
Lothiriel hastened down the castle steps and fell into her brother's arms the instant he dismounted. "Oh, I have missed you so!" she exclaimed into his shoulder, holding him tightly.
Amrothos smiled as he embraced her. "And I you, dearest. Be assured we are all well."
"But why did Erchirion and Father not return home with you?" she asked, stepping back and giving him a petulant look.
"You know the answer to that already. Erchirion is assisting with guarding the city until they get the great gate replaced, and the new king has much need of Father's counsel as the kingship is restored to its rightful place. I expect he will have to remain several months. Besides, he wishes to accompany King Theoden's body back to Rohan for burial, so it makes no sense for him to come home before then." He eyed her closely, then asked, "And what of you? Are you well now? Father was quite concerned when he learned you were taken ill and unable to join us for the festivities."
"I am fine," Lothiriel assured him, laying a consoling hand on his chest. "The Healers took good care of me and the fever eventually passed. I am just pleased that Alcathir did not catch it from me. It would not do for her to be ill when her babe is so near to coming."
She stepped to his side and took his arm as he handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy. Together they climbed the castle steps, still discussing trivial family news. They had just reached the top when Elphir appeared to welcome his brother home also. As it was time for the noonday meal, they made their way to the dining room and settled around the table to continue talking and reuniting.
"Father is confident that you have matters well in hand here, Elphir. I am afraid you will remain in charge for some time yet while he assists Elessar." Amrothos grinned teasingly at his eldest brother, though he knew Elphir had never minded his duty as the heir.
Ignoring the familiar attempt to nettle him, Elphir entreated, "So, tell us more of our new King. What is he like? Clearly he is a great warrior, but will he be a good ruler, do you think?"
Amrothos nodded, sobering. "Yes, a very good ruler. Already I have witnessed his judgement being passed in some few matters of the kingdom, and they were most just and fair. I do believe this will be a great age for Gondor with him at our helm. And, it turns out, he is not unfamiliar in these parts. Father says he once fought here under Ecthelion, as a soldier called Thorongil."
"Thorongil? Yes, I have heard the name and some of his exploits. It would be interesting to find out this man's history, indeed!" His brother paused momentarily before changing the subject. "And what of you – shall you settle down now and find a wife, or shall you continue to flirt with anything in a skirt?"
Lothiriel laughed. "I cannot wait to meet the woman who can tame our dear brother! She will be most remarkable!"
Amrothos leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and pouting at the both of them, slightly disgruntled at having the focus of mockery turned upon him. "You make it sound as if I am never serious or sincere! Just because I enjoy the company of ladies, and do not favor one over another, does not mean I am incapable of an attachment. I simply have not met a woman that appeals to me in that way." He smirked at his sister, then redirected the discussion by adding, "And you are one to talk! I do not see you favoring any of your suitors!"
Lothiriel pinked slightly, but retorted, "There are not that many of them, but at least I am considering them, which is more than you are doing!"
Amrothos gave her a sly look. "The new king is unwed…"
"If the new king was Thorongil, then he is older than Father!" she snapped. "I should marry a man old enough to be my grandfather?"
"But he is Dunedain. Comparatively speaking, he is not so very old, considering how long he will live," Amrothos argued.
"Which means I will grow old, gray and wrinkly and he will still look young as I go to my grave! Yes, such an appealing notion!" Lothiriel defended, now crossing her own arms in annoyance. She wasn't sure how the marital conversation had shifted from being directed at Amrothos to being aimed at her, but Amrothos had always been very good at deflecting taunts away from himself.
"What of the new king of Rohan?" Elphir interjected. "He is a young man, is he not? And my impression is that Father thinks very highly of him."
"He is young, yes," Amrothos acknowledged. "And judging from the reaction of the ladies, a handsome and engaging man. If Lothiriel wishes to set her cap for him, she will have much competition!"
"I do not intend to set my cap for anyone," she replied frostily. "If we meet, and are attracted to one another, then so be it. But if not, I will thank the both of you to keep your noses out of my business!"
"But getting you properly married is our business, dearest!" Amrothos answered, resulting in her napkin being thrown in his face.
He and Elphir broke into laughter, and at length she joined them, accepting the teasing for what it was. She knew they truly did have her best interests at heart and so could not be much wroth with them.
As it turned out, their discussion of the two kings was neither here nor there. By Mid-year's Day, the King of Gondor had wed an Elf maiden, eliminating him from consideration. As to the other, the King of Rohan, well, fate did not appear to intend that they should meet.
Her illness had prevented her going to Minas Tirith for the celebrations after the War. Though Imrahil had hoped she would join him for the trip to Rohan in July, Alcathir was too near her due date for Lothiriel to feel comfortable leaving her, and so she remained in Dol Amroth yet again.
The next likely chance they would have to meet would be in the spring, when the King's sister was to marry their cousin, Faramir, at Minas Tirith. Perhaps then they would finally be introduced and she could see what all the fuss was about.
xxxxx
(Yule, 3019 III)
Preparing his people to make it through the winter seemed to claim all of Eomer's time, particularly after the funeral guests had departed. He was grateful for the provisions and clothing that Aragorn had sent to tide them over while they rebuilt. They had not managed in luxury, by any means, but they were surviving and that gave him some measure of pride. He had never fully realized all his uncle had faced in ruling the Riddermark, so effortless did it appear to a mere nephew. Only now that the responsibility was his did he understand all the decisions that must be made, and that the king was the one required to make them. He hoped he was judging wisely; Aragorn and Imrahil had both approved when they had opportunity to hear and observe him. He trusted them to speak honestly with him, and both had been happy to provide whatever guidance they could.
It meant that he could look upon this Yule celebration with satisfaction. The meal was rather spartan compared to the finest days of the Mark, but that would change in time. He would make sure of it. It also meant he could relax somewhat and begin to enjoy his position rather than merely suffer it. Eowyn would leave him in the spring, and he hoped that he could also find a partner to share his life as she had. He had come to realize that her feelings for Faramir were genuine and strong; Aragorn had been only a passing infatuation. That had been a relief, though it did nothing to ease the pang of knowing they would soon be separated by many leagues. They could visit each other, it was true, but he was sure it would not be a simple thing to accomplish. Both would be very busy in their respective places. He would very much wish to have someone to share his life now that the last of his family was departing from close proximity.
One would not think finding a wife should be that difficult. Certainly there were enough women eager to catch his eye; the room before him had many at this very moment. They danced past, some virtually ignoring their present partner to gaze longingly at him. Rather than encouraging his interest, their fawning tended to put him off them. A few showed a bit more reserve, perhaps understanding that a man likes to do the pursuing. Things gained too easily are not as fully appreciated.
"Eomer, why are you not dancing?"
His sister stood before him, hands on hips, a smile gracing her lips and fire in her eyes. It was good to see her thus. In recent years he rarely had, as life wore her down, and he had despaired that she would ever be herself again. And, yet, here she was, as he remembered her in his fondest memories. She raised an impatient eyebrow at him when he was slow to respond, so he told her, "You were already dancing with someone else, and I wished to dance with you."
Pleasure tweaked her mouth and then she extended her hand, waggling her fingers to indicate he should rise and take it. "I have no other partner now, Brother, so you have no excuse."
Gladly he stood and they moved together to the dance floor, taking their places amid the other dancers, joining in their laughter and high spirits. Yes, it felt very good to be doing this again, and he would miss it when Eowyn was gone. They had danced together when their uncle insisted they learn, and so they well knew how each other moved. Further, Eowyn was tall and could easily match him stride for stride, as some shorter women could not.
Eomer suppressed another sigh as the dance concluded and they went to find refreshment for their thirst. Yes, time to be getting on with finding a wife. He was tired of being alone.
Erkenbrand had joined them for this year's festivities, both to celebrate the end of war, but also to bring his report to Eomer of conditions in the West-mark. As it was now far safer to travel, he had brought his wife and their two youngest, unmarried daughters with him. Part of Eomer wondered whether his Marshal was hoping to entice the king with one of them, and he could not deny they were likely prospects.
Both were lovely girls, though the younger was newly in womanhood and far too inexperienced to consider for the responsibility of queen. Whenever he was in her vicinity, she tended to favor him with goofy grins, and then giggle and blush excessively, without ever speaking to him. Then she would scurry off to whisper with her friends, and engage in further giggling. Considering the silliness, Eomer felt no attraction to her in a romantic way, and could not envision her as queen unless her manner changed drastically.
The elder of the two, Mithanmag, was more a possibility. She was quiet and sober, and carried herself well. If he must seek a wife, he might as well begin with her. To that end, he asked her to dance. She moved confidently and made a good partner on the floor, but to his dismay, he barely got three words out of her, and she would hardly look at him the entire time, despite his every effort to draw her out.
As the festivities were drawing to a close for the evening, and there were still duties Eomer needed to attend as part of that, he had no further opportunity to pursue conversation with the lady until the next morning at breakfast. She ended up seated next to him for the meal and so he tried to learn more of her then.
"Did you enjoy our Yule celebration last night?" he inquired. "It did not overly tire you?"
Still she persisted in looking down at the table and not meeting his gaze, and her answers were kept to a minimum in response to his questions or comments.
"It was lovely, my lord. No, I am not so very tired," she murmured, keeping her attention focused on her meal.
Without any encouragement from her, Eomer was running out of things to say. But, later that day, he saw Mithanmag crossing the Great Hall and since her family would be leaving the next day, he went to greet her. Likely she was just shy and that was what caused her to hold her tongue.
At his invitation, they moved closer to the hearth since winter's chill was difficult to keep at bay in the large, open hall. But the lady made no effort to speak to him at all beyond her initial response to his greeting, and acquiesence in sharing his company.
"Are you enjoying your visit to Edoras, my lady?" Eomer asked, continuing in his struggle to find conversation.
Mithanmag did not look up, but murmured in the general direction of her hands, "It is quite agreeable, my lord."
There was no indication she desired further discussion, but he persisted a little longer, touching on the surprisingly clear weather for winter (she agreed it was), hoping she had a pleasant journey in getting there (it was fine), and concluding with him essentially giving an oration on his plans for getting Edoras back on track after the war (she had no comment).
"My lady," he finally asked in frustration, "is there nothing that excites your enthusiasm? I would enjoy hearing of what gives you pleasure and holds your interest."
He would have thought his bluntness might embarrass her, but she gave no outward show that it did. "There is nothing of any consequence to tell you," she answered mildly, still not looking directly at him. "I am not unlike other maidens in my pursuits."
He was disconcerted by her refusal to even meet his gaze, and since that was all he was able to eke out of her as to conversation, at length he excused himself. "It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mithanmag. I do hope you will enjoy the remainder of your time here before returning home."
Certainly he had no intention of delaying her departure, he thought, as he made his way to his study. Shy, even quiet women, did not bother him, but it was agony to get this one to say anything, and he wearied of the effort. They had been in one another's company three times and he still knew nothing more of her personally than at their first encounter. Every response she gave was meek, passive and uninformative. Did she really think he wished to marry a complete stranger? If this was all he could expect during courtship, he did not think she would be of any use as queen, and she was less than inviting as a prospective wife. He did not want to always be arguing with a woman, but he did like them to have a little fire, and an opinion on things!
As they bid farewell to their guests the following day, Eothain stood beside Eomer, watching them ride down the hill, before the pair turned and returned inside. Walking the length of the hall, Eothain finally queried, "Erkenbrand's daughters did not…appeal to you?"
It was too astute a question for Eomer's liking, but Eothain knew him well after all these years. And it did give him an opportunity to vent his frustration. "What was there to appeal? One would not stop her giggling and the other would not say a word! Do you remember that dog that Alfrid had as a boy, the one that had been mistreated? Remember how everytime you so much as looked at it, it fell over on its back and cowered submissively? That is what Mithanmag reminded me of. She agreed with everything said and gave in to what she was bid to do. No question, no opinion, nothing. Such a woman would drive me mad! I do like at least a little conversation!"
Eothain chuckled at his diatribe and nodded his understanding. He had come to the same assessment of the two girls, and was not surprised that Eomer was not eager to pursue either of them. "Well, there are plenty of women to be had, Eomer. Do not trouble yourself about it so early in the hunt. You will find a wife, I am sure."
"And what about you?" Eomer retorted, turning to gaze pointedly at his friend. "You could do with a woman at your side also."
"I could," Eothain conceded, "but it is not so urgent a matter for me as for you, and since I am not king I think I shall have a far easier time finding the right one!"
Eomer could not argue with that, though he scowled at Eothain before continuing to lead the way to his study in silence.
It was an inauspicious beginning to Eomer's efforts at courtship, but he remained mildly optimistic all the same. He had not thought to settle on the very first woman he approached anyway, so it mattered little that he deemed her unsuitable. At least he had not wasted a great deal of time on her.
TBC
ch 1, A/N: I named Elphir's wife Alcathir in my other fics and continue doing so here.
Rohan women:
Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)
Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)
Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)
Rohan male (mentioned):
Aldfrid – "old peace"
Gondor women:
Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)
Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)
Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)
Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)
Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)
Gondor men:
Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)
Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)
Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)
Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)
Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)
Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)
Note: For the Tolkien purists among you: You may have noticed certain Quenya words forming some of the names I give to Gondorians, in other stories but especially in this one where I needed so many original names. I do realize that Gondorian names should pretty much be based on Adunaic or Sindarin/Noldorin. However, as we have so few words in those languages for which we have meanings, it is sometimes difficult to form meaningful names that aren't ones you have seen used a million times before (and which have probably already been given to a more known/recognizable character). I could simply snatch Sindarin words and mash them together, regardless of the meaning of the name it creates, but I don't like to do that, as Tolkien tried to have his names have meaning. So, the least objectionable choice to me is to use Quenya when I have to, and I hope you won't mind too much. See why I prefer to write the Rohirrim? They are so much easier! I can pull just about any meaning I want from Old/Middle English to give them names (except when I can't find a word with the meaning I want that will work as part of a name, but that's a separate issue).