Title: Mother
Genre: Romance/General
Rating: T
Pairing: Éomer/Lothíriel
Disclaimer: The Lord of The Rings is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien and his estate. This is a work of fanfiction, written for the enjoyment of myself and others. No financial profit is made by writing this.
Summary: June 3020: Princess Lothíriel visits the land of her betrothed for the first time. The mother of King of Rohan reflects.
Author's Note: What if Théodwyn had lived? This little oneshot is an attempt to bring you a glimpse of a world where Théodwyn survived to see her son become a king. I would thing she'd be tremendously proud of her son... and that she'd be very important in the life of her son. I do not go in very deeply into the idea of how her survival might have affected the events of the late Third Age in Rohan - I just wanted to write something with Théodwyn and Éomer when he is king. And when I write about Éomer I also write about Lothíriel.
Hope you like this oneshot! Reviews are always appreciated!
June 3020, Edoras
Her son had been on the edge since the morning.
They had sat enjoying breakfast together when a rider had arrived, bringing a word of an approaching escort: Prince Imrahil was on his way to Edoras and would arrive before the day was done.
Well, it wasn't of course the arrival of the Prince that so excited Éomer. While they had become good friends since the War, it was an entirely different Amrothian to spark his enthusiasm so. Princess Théodwyn had seen her share of love-struck men and so she didn't wonder. It was said Princess Lothíriel was not only a fair maiden, but also bright and spirited. And she was coming to visit the land of her future husband for the very first time.
"Would you please settle down, son? You're going to wrinkle your clothes", she said now, as they were expecting a word of the Prince's arrival to the city. Théodwyn herself was sat by the window of her chamber – Éomer had insisted she return to Meduseld as soon as he had returned from war and made home at the capital. The move had been moderately easy, as most of her things were still there. Her banishment had of course ended with the revival of her late brother – Théoden had profusely apologised for letting Wormtongue treat her so ill as to send her away from home – but she had not come back before her son the King had invited her. To her it seemed right to let Éomer arrange things after his own mind now that Meduseld was his household, but she was pleased when he did call her back to the Golden Hall.
Now said son was pacing about her chamber, mostly because his Marshals knew she was the only one who had faintest chance at containing him until his bride's arrival.
"Mother, my clothes are quite all right", he said stiffly and stopped to look outside, as though trying to see the escort. Then with a groan he collapsed to sit opposite her, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.
"She will be here soon", she told him, smiling as she spoke. "And I'm sure she is a wonderful young lady."
Éomer looked up at her and a small frown came to his features.
"I'd like you to get along with her", he said slowly. Théodwyn had not yet met the Princess, because she had not participated any of her son's trips to Minas Tirith, and Imrahil's daughter had not attended to Théoden's funeral with her father and brothers. But Imrahil Théodwyn had met and she rather liked him – he was a noble, wise man, and it was good to know her son would have such allies and friends in years to come. She did not think a daughter to such a man could be an evil choice for a wife or a queen.
"She's your chosen bride, son. I have no doubt I will love her", Théodwyn said warmly. Her words made him smile and his form visibly relaxed.
Éomer had met his future wife in Minas Tirith after the war had ended. To Théodwyn's knowledge it had been first very formal, but seeing he often visited Prince Imrahil his friend it was inevitable he also grew familiar with Princess Lothíriel. And obviously there was something about her to draw his eye... some special fire he did not see in others, for during the years many a lady had tried to conquer him but found themselves unsuccessful. Of course, the match was well-made from political point of view. But Théodwyn knew he only pursued it because he loved the girl.
There was a knock on the door, and at last a servant called: "My lord, my lady – the Prince Imrahil and his retinue are arriving soon."
At last the Silver Swan of Dol Amroth was carried into the courtyard of Meduseld. Imrahil's armoured knights came first, and then arrived the man himself. He had the height and grey eyes of Westernesse, but also grace uncommon in Men; she knew it was stated in stories the line of Princes of Dol Amroth claimed Elven blood through an ancestress of old.
Théodwyn and her son were up on the stone steps of Meduseld, waiting for the Gondorian guests. It was a rare guest Éomer would receive in such a way, but his future wife and her family deserved special treatment. Théodwyn too had come, as she was curious to meet the young lady who would soon become the Queen of Rohan.
She searched the newly arrived crowd with her eyes, until she spotted the young woman who could only be the Princess Lothíriel. Her long dark hair fell as a braid down her back and she had the same grey eyes as her father. Fair she was indeed but the light of her glance told Théodwyn all she needed to know. Then her gaze fixed on the King of Rohan; she smiled brightly and lifted up a hand to greet him.
Prince Imrahil helped his daughter down from the saddle and offered her his arm. They were joined by Prince Amrothos, youngest of his sons. Then the three made for the steps of the Golden Hall and climbed up to meet the King of Rohan.
"Welcome, my friends. It is good to finally have you here", Éomer greeted them warmly. He focused his eyes on Imrahil's daughter, "My lady. Welcome to Edoras."
"Thank you, my lord. I'm glad to be here", replied the Princess. Her voice was melodious and soft, and when Éomer picked up her hand and gave a kiss to her knuckles, her smile only widened. But when she looked at Théodwyn the Princess of Rohan saw right away how the smile made way to an uncertain look. Éomer evidently noticed it as well as he took the lead.
"Mother, this is Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, daughter to Prince Imrahil our friend", he said smoothly. "My lady, meet Princess Théodwyn, my greatly esteemed mother."
Princess Lothíriel gave her a curtsy, graceful as could be expected of a Gondorian lady of such high birth. With a smile Théodwyn noted the girl kept her grace even when she was nervous.
"It is an honour to finally meet you, my lady", she said, daring to meet Théodwyn's eyes
"Likewise, Princess. My son hardly speaks of anything else than you these days", she answered serenely.
"Mother", Éomer grumbled, exasperated but with a note of fondness he couldn't quite hide. As for Princess Lothíriel it was her blush she could not conceal.
"Shut it, son. After all these years I have earned my right to tease you in merciless ways", Théodwyn said unaffectedly; her son looked like one deeply despairing, but Prince Imrahil chuckled.
"That is about the same thing I've been telling my daughter, though I understand her vexation with me... you see, the news of her engagement to your son, my lady, have been the talk of the society for months", he said lightly. Princess Lothíriel looked like she was considering elbowing her father down the steps right then.
"But in truth I don't think anyone enjoys it more than Father does", Amrothos put in. "Rohirric grandchildren are going to keep him on his toes for a long time yet."
"All right, you three – you've had your fun", Éomer interrupted then, feigning royal annoyance most impressively. "I'm sure you can continue embarrassing my lady Princess and myself over the dinner."
"Of course, my son", Théodwyn said in the tones of a perfectly demure mother of a king. She smiled at the guests, "Please, do follow me. We've kept you standing about long enough. Follow me – I will show you your chambers..."
A dinner was served in Théodwyn's own parlour. She had insisted on hosting the meal, seeing both herself and her son wanted to spend a private night with their guests. There would be formal social events of course, as could be expected during the visit of a foreign prince such as Imrahil. Not to mention Eorling nobility were dying to finally meet the King's bride. Poor girl was in for quite the scrutiny once the disappointed Rohirric ladies got to meet her; since the news had spread Théodwyn had observed they were all collectively insulted for the knowledge they had been beaten by a Gondorian noblewoman.
For the night it was just five of them however, sitting about the table carried into Théodwyn's chambers. Through the first course, Amrothos and Imrahil had been busy telling of their journey north. The Princess was mostly quiet except for a comment here and there, but that did not mean she was not communicating with Éomer; the two were all mellow glances and not so secret smiles. Théodwyn suspected they would have been quite happy to spend the night alone. She had known her son had found himself a queen he actually liked, but she hadn't expected him to be so smitten with the girl. After years of watching – and having to hear about, Béma's beard! – his adventures of a celebrated bachelor she had not thought he'd be an easy stallion to catch. Or fish, if one wanted to go by Amrothian vocabulary.
Really, the matter was starting to interest her more and more. But before she could voice her interest, Éomer spoke up.
"How go things in Dol Amroth? I trust Aragorn is keeping you busy?" he asked the Amrothian Prince.
"Oh, he very much is. The man is turning the realm upside down..." Imrahil replied. "It is a good thing. Our land has long been in decaying, but Aragorn is determined to turn the tide."
"Aye. As am I. Now that the realm is secure there is finally a chance and time for rebuilding the kingdom and for new winds to blow", Éomer said solemnly. Théodwyn smiled at her son – past year, she had witnessed how determinedly he had taken up the task of mending the realm. It was no small burden but he was bearing it with all the resolution and dignity she could expect of a son of Éomund and nephew of Théoden.
Her son looked at the Princess then and he smiled, "And with a queen in the land, I feel all of it will go smoother and sweeter."
The two exchanged another of those little smiles. Amrothos grinned in a way that made Théodwyn wonder if the young prince had something to do with the engagement; she wouldn't have put it past this cheerful fellow at least.
"Now, my dear", she said then, looking at her son, "I've yet to hear about how you met the Lady Lothíriel."
The two exchanged another brief glance, and in that look Théodwyn saw secret meetings and romantic letters and all sorts of things mothers have no business knowing about.
"We met in Mundburg after the war. There were many balls in the Citadel that time, and Imrahil insisted to introduce myself and Éowyn to the rest of the family", Éomer replied, lifting up his glass to sip his wine. He smiled at his Gondorian friend, "Probably to give her an idea of what she was signing up for with Faramir."
"Oh, I'm fairly certain Faramir is the one who should worry about that", Amrothos said lightly. "But he is still too caught up in the newly-married bliss to really have noticed."
"You should pay heed, Lady Lothíriel", Théodwyn said good-humouredly. "You still have time to get out."
Her son snorted, but the Princess smiled and shook her head.
"I have no such intention, my lady", Lothíriel said firmly. Then she looked at the man she would wed and her smile widened.
"Your line has obviously a special weakness for northerners, Imrahil", Théodwyn said, which made him laugh.
"Or is it the other way around? I can't tell", he said and shook his head. He lifted up his glass, "To the friendship of Rohan and Gondor... and to the new families."
The rest of the company lifted up their glasses as well, and there was laughter and lightness in the chambers of Princess Théodwyn of Rohan.
On the morrow, Éomer took his bride for a ride.
Théodwyn quickly realised what were the intentions behind it. Not only was her son planning to show some more of Rohan to his bride, but he also wanted to spend some time alone with her. Princess Lothíriel's handmaiden and one of Théodwyn's own maids went as chaperones to satisfy everyone's sensitivities, though she knew Éomer would treat his lady with every honour imaginable.
As for herself, she sought the company of Prince Imrahil. The man happily joined her when she asked him to accompany her to a walk about the garden of Meduseld, and so after their children had departed for their ride, she met the Prince in that place behind the Golden Hall.
"My lady", Imrahil greeted her with a warm smile as she met him there, looking over the garden and the plains below.
"My lord. I hope you slept well?" she asked as she placed her hand on his arm.
"Yes, I did. I don't know why that is but I always sleep very restfully when I visit here", he replied. They made way the stone stairs to the garden. It had first been built by the wish of her late mother, and since then Théodwyn herself had lovingly looked after it.
"We are glad to have you here. My son thinks highly of you, Prince Imrahil", she said, glancing at the man beside her. On his temples there was silver already but with heritage it was likely he'd have many strong years still ahead of him.
"And it is a sentiment that is fully returned. One rarely meets a young man so promising as your son, my lady", he said. But then she noticed the faint hesitation on his face.
"Is there something bothering you, my lord?" Théodwyn asked gently.
"It is my daughter, Princess Théodwyn. I know your son is very fond of her and she feels the same for him, but... I'm just worried. It is an enormous duty, being a queen. I wonder how she will be received here in Rohan", Imrahil said slowly.
Théodwyn considered the question for a while before answering. She knew she'd have to reply honestly, but also in a way that would console the Prince. The last thing she and her son needed was Imrahil thinking he had made a mistake in giving his daughter's hand in marriage to Éomer.
"Rohirrim are curious, of course", she said at length. "Most who live now barely remember Morwen Steelsheen, and those who do are not entirely happy about my son's choice for wife. Still her memory lives on even now. That is because Morwen Queen my mother ever remained a distant figure for the most of Eorlingas. She never learned Rohirric and most believe it was for her insistence that Sindarin was used in the royal household. And she was ever gazing towards the south... towards the sea. You must understand it is a hard thing to understand for the children of the north."
"However", she continued, her tone stronger now, "I have watched your daughter for only one night and I already see she is as different from my mother as the day is from night. Morwen never chose Rohan – Thengel was not King when they wedded, and I know for fact they were hoping to avert his fate and stay in Gondor for ever. But your daughter has chosen both my son and the Mark. I see it when I look at her. And I know it from Éomer telling me that Princess Lothíriel is already learning to speak our tongue."
"So, what I mean to say", Théodwyn spoke and let her tone fall gentler, "is that your daughter has a better chance of adjusting here than my mother ever had. Perhaps our people will be reserved and curious at first, but that is only as long as it takes them to get to know her. And Rohirrim know how important the alliance with Gondor is. But what truly matters is my son loves her and vice versa. Eorlingas do appreciate love matches... we are romantics, but never tell anyone I said so."
During her speech Théodwyn had watched several emotions pass on Imrahil's face. But finally her last comment succeeded to pull out a laugh of him. Yet his face turned serious before he spoke again.
"I only wish to know my daughter will be happy here. Hearing your words, I feel... if your son can love her, then surely your people will too", Imrahil spoke softly. He glanced at her and she did not miss the tearful look in his eyes, "It is not easy to let go of a beloved child."
"I know, Imrahil. I know", Théodwyn said softly. They had stopped now and she patted his shoulder gently. "But we do not own their lives, though they are borne of our bodies. We must let them pursue their own paths and support them as we can. Sometimes it will break our hearts, aye... but it is the only way we can do right by our children."
"Princess Théodwyn, I..." Imrahil began, but he did not seem to know how to finish that sentence. He lifted up a hand to wipe his eyes, and when he looked at her again he smiled. "Thank you, my lady. You have told me a valuable thing."
She returned his smile.
"That I'm glad to hear, my lord", she said. Then, thinking it was perhaps a good idea to cheer up the man, she asked: "Could I perhaps persuade you to join me and walk to the markets? I'm sure you have family home who are just dying to get some Rohirric gifts."
The Golden Hall was full of noise and laughter.
It reminded Théodwyn of the old times, back before there had been any sight of shadows in horizon and Théoden had been in his prime. With the ending of war such noises had returned to Meduseld. She knew why her son had welcomed it as of late: for an unmarried man nights could be long and lonesome, especially because his friends were busy establishing their own families and making homes. And try as she might to help him she knew a mother's company was not what Éomer needed.
Luckily, the solution to this problem was gracing this very celebration... looking absolutely beautiful in her blue and silver, and her long dark hair cascading like a silken veil down her slender back. Once this fair maiden would stay for good Éomer would not have time or reason to brood away his nights.
The thought made Théodwyn smile, bittersweet as it was. For what place would she have here then – her, the remnant of an old world?
She ushered away that thought and made way through the hall. Her son was near the dais talking with Imrahil about something and the dear lad looked so much like Éomund tonight it was like the dear man himself had returned from death. Fondly Théodwyn thought of her late husband: Did you ever imagine our son would one day be King?
As she passed Eorlingas greeted her, bowing their heads and making way for her. She met them with quiet smiles and gentle nods. Eventually she stopped to stand behind the great pillars, to just observe the feast for a while there in the gentle shadows. She had always loved the lights and shades of the Golden Hall.
It was then, as she stood there, that she heard the words: "... what right does a Gondorian have to be here?"
"Aye! It should be one of us. You will only turn his eyes even more towards Gondor! He will forget about his own land and its needs."
"He belongs to us!"
"You don't belong here. You should leave while you still can."
Théodwyn wasted no time as she stepped from behind the pillars, finding the Princess Lothíriel surrounded by several ladies, all of whom she knew. They were the daughters of Eorling noblemen... and all of them were those who had tried their charm on Éomer and found him unresponsive.
She smiled at them – a cool, terrible smile, the kind Éowyn must have worn on the battlefield. Théodwyn was not a Shieldmaiden, but she was the mother of Éomer and Éowyn, and her children were made of steel; this they had not inherited only from their father.
Gently she linked her arm with that of Princess Lothíriel. The poor thing looked at her with wide eyes and Théodwyn recognised the surprise and hurt in those grey pools. The girl was not used to the straightforward Eorling manner of speaking.
"There you are, my dear. I thought you might have got lost among some wattles", Théodwyn said and urged the young woman to turn. Without a further word they left the baffled gang behind.
The Princess did not speak at first, not until they had got to a slightly more quiet corner at the end of the hall.
"Thank you, my lady. I'm not sure how I would have got myself out of there", she said and looked down.
"It is quite all right. Those girls were out of line", Théodwyn said steadily. "Are you very upset?"
"I... I didn't expect anyone to be so... so..." the poor girl muttered, biting her lip.
"So blunt?" Théodwyn finished the sentence for her. "I suppose the hen-birds are not quite so straightforward in Gondorian society."
That made Lothíriel laugh out loud.
"No. Not at all. Usually they mask and veil their insults so delicately one must wonder if they even understand themselves what they are really saying", she said dryly. Now was Théodwyn's turn to laugh.
"Aye, my dear. It is a different world here in Rohan. But don't be troubled. It was out of line what they said, that is true, but it is you who wears Éomer's ring in your finger and no unkind word will change that. And soon as he wraps his cloak about your shoulders... well, those girls will be very demure and soft towards you, for you will be their queen", Théodwyn told her firmly.
"I would just... I want your people to like me. I want to fit in here", said the Princess, fidgeting her hands.
"And you will. You mustn't let some foolish ladies get to you", said the older woman. "Some of these lasses have been chasing my son since he turned sixteen, and this is the first they see of the lady who truly and irrevocably conquered him. Try and be patient with them."
Lothíriel blinked at her words; seeing that reaction she wondered if the dear girl even understood what she had really done in winning Éomer's love. Probably not.
"Don't worry, my dear. You have my full support, and you will find that though I'm not the one to slay Witch-kings, I'm still considered a formidable adversary", Théodwyn said steadily. That made the girl smile at last.
"Thank you, my lady", she said softly.
The Princess of Rohan considered the young Gondorian then and decided this was as good a moment to have their conversation as any. So, she gently pulled at Lothíriel's hand, and her future daughter-in-law quietly followed. They sat on the bench by a wall where it was calm enough.
"Now, I would like to hear the truth", Théodwyn said, her voice firm and clear. "Do you love my son? Or are you just pursuing this marriage because it will make you queen?"
"No, it is not that. I'd never have let it come this far if I didn't..." said the young lady and looked down.
"If you didn't what?" Théodwyn asked.
The precious girl blushed then; the colour looked just perfect on her creamy cheeks.
"My lady, I love your son. I really do. Perhaps that is a strange thing for a well-bred Gondorian noblewoman, but since the day I first saw him..." said the Princess softly, and in her eyes was a glimmer that spoke of some sweet memory. She went on then, "I understand your fear that my only wish is to become a queen, but it is not so. First and foremost I want to be Éomer's wife."
"And why is that?" asked the King's mother. She had to have this conversation, if only for her own peace of mind.
"Because he's so many things I've never dared to imagine before. He lives each moment with so much passion and fire... he makes life seem like an adventure. And he makes me laugh", Lothíriel said slowly. Then a soft smile dawned on her face. "It is more than that, though. I want to be here with him. I want to take care of him, care for him, comfort him... I want to share my life with him."
Listening to the girl speak Théodwyn could only smile. Smile, like a mother who knows their child will be fine. For what else would Éomer be, when there was such a woman in his life? On that moment she knew her son would be all right... and subsequently Rohan would be fine as well.
So she smiled and patted the girl's arm.
"That is all I wanted to know, my dear", she said warmly. "Now, would you like to come with me and seek out that son of mine? I know you are eager to spend time with your betrothed now that you are here in Rohan."
The next morning Théodwyn slept slightly later than she usually did. Night had been long one after all, and she had only got to bed on the small hours. But soon as she got up and dressed, she decided to seek out her son.
Upon emerging from her chambers Théodwyn's first deed was to seek a servant, and to ask if the King was already up and about. And she was told he was indeed awake already; years of waging war and serving as captain and Marshal had made her son into an early riser. Éomund had been just the same.
So she made way for the royal chambers. It was no longer odd to think of those as her son's quarters, though in the beginning it had been so. Éomer had made the place his own and no shade of Théoden's lingered there anymore.
When she knocked at the door, the familiar voice called from inside: "Enter."
And she did, walking into that light parlour of his chambers. Her son was sat by the window, a mug of tea in one hand and a report in the other. She knew not to worry, for she had a feeling he'd soon find a cure for his ever-present anxiety, just like his father had in the end. Once he had a couple of children running about these halls he'd not be thinking about reports in the mornings anymore.
The thought made Théodwyn smile, but she concealed it as she sat down opposite him.
"One might ask if you slept at all last night or if you spent it working", Théodwyn commented; a pot of tea and a spare mug had been left on a table next to the window and she poured herself some. The scent of herbs filled her nose and she breathed it in.
"I did sleep, Mother", Éomer replied defensively. "There are just many concerns in the realm."
"Aye, there are, but you needn't carry them all alone", she reminded him. "You have your Marshals. They are very capable of helping you. Let them do their job, son."
"I know that. It's just... I need to do this right. Everyone is looking up to me to fix everything and I don't want to disappoint them", he muttered, laying aside the report he had been reading. Gently Théodwyn reached to touch his hand, and to pry the report from his fingers.
"And you won't", she said gently. "People see you are trying so hard. They know how tirelessly you are working to mend the realm. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."
He looked at her then and she saw the doubt in his eyes. As an answer, Théodwyn smiled.
"You are doing very well, my son. Théoden would be proud. And he would want you to enjoy the visit of your betrothed", she told him.
Those words had her son sitting back... considering her for a moment in silence.
"What do you think about her?" he asked then. Though she knew he'd marry her no matter what, she also understood it was important she show her acceptance.
"She is lovely", Théodwyn said gently. "And I do rather like her. She'll do fine once she gets used to how things are done here."
At last Éomer smiled. He looked relieved as well, though she knew her opinions would never have kept him from pursuing what he wanted.
"I love her, Mother. She is... Lothíriel is the light I've been missing in my life... she gives me strength and hope to be the king I need to be", he said and sat back. In his eyes was that look she very well recognised.
She got up from her seat and went to stand by his side. Fondly she reached to touch his cheek, regarding him proudly but also with fondness touched by bittersweetness. The boy she had raised had grown to look so much alike his father... and in his eyes, Éomund's laughter still lived.
"Then I'm glad for you, son", she said softly and kissed his brow. "You deserve happiness, just like Éowyn."
"And you, Mother?" he asked.
Quietly she returned to her seat. Well, perhaps now was as good as time as any to reveal what she had been planning.
"I was thinking", Théodwyn said at length, "After you have married, I'll travel to Gondor and stay with Éowyn and Faramir. By then they should already be over their honeymoon. If they will have me, I'll stay with them for a while. After that I will go to Lossarnarch... seek my mother's kin there. I should hope they will be happy to house a relative for a while."
"So you'll leave us?" Éomer asked, frowning as he spoke.
"For a while at least. You and your Queen should have some time for yourselves, without me lurking about the corners. If she's to become the mistress of this hall and this land... well, I think I should be gone", Théodwyn explained. And looking at her son she knew he thought the same.
"Aye. I have no doubt she'll do fine, but she needs to see that too", he agreed. But then he looked at her straight, and in his eyes she saw some old grief she couldn't name. "Mother, I can't imagine how it would have been like if you had left us too. We will always love you."
Speechless, Théodwyn did not at first know what to say. She looked at her son... wondering what futures might have awaited her children had she not lived.
"You had your uncle. He loved you like his own... he would have taken care of you", he said quietly. Éomer tilted his head... looked at her with a kind of solemnity she had rarely seen on his face.
"Aye. He would have... but I don't think we'd have got your laughter if you had died. And it would have been so much more difficult for us to find again without you", he said in soft tones.
Hearing those words Théodwyn had to get up on her feet and go to hug her son. She wrapped her arms about him, held him tight.
For a long while they remained so. No words were spoken, and none were needed. But at last she broke the silence.
"They would be proud of you, son."
Amrothians stayed in Edoras for two weeks.
The time was full of social events, balls and feasts and markets and nobles visiting the capital. Rarely did Edoras see such a crowd, though Théodwyn suspected it was something to occur ever more often in the future. Éomer was going to change the course of this land... and she knew his rule over this land would be something extraordinary.
Indeed, Théodwyn had been telling the truth when she had said Éomund and Théoden would be proud.
The day the Amrothians departed was a windy one. Their own land was waiting for them and Imrahil needed to get back to Aragorn. As for Princess Lothíriel, she still had some bridal time left before the wedding next spring. Soon the preparations would begin... and Edoras would be full of bustle and excitement. After 40 years there would finally be a queen in the land.
Éomer stood with his princess for a long while. They were talking in low voices, and Théodwyn and Imrahil watched that conversation with tender smiles. They could only imagine the amount of secret kisses and words that had been exchanged between the two during this time... the Princess of Rohan decided she at least didn't need to even consider it. Long as her son was happy nothing else mattered.
Then at last he kissed Lothíriel's forehead and embraced her, murmuring some sweet words in her ear... the girl smiled – the kind of a smile she only reserved for him.
"Oi there! Let's get going – I want to be in Dol Amroth before the year ends!" called Amrothos from the courtyard. Lothíriel grimaced and called to him in Sindarin – Théodwyn bit back her chuckle – and she hugged her Rohirric King for one last time. Then she and her father at last made way down, where their horses awaited.
Théodwyn moved quietly to her son's side. His eyes were solely fixed on the dark-haired maiden of his heart's choosing. She spoke no word as they watched the Amrothian company.
The Swan Knights lifted up the Silver Swan once more and at last the riders made from the courtyard. Imrahil went, and beside him rode Lothíriel... one more moment she took to glance at her King... she smiled and there was light in her glance – light and a promise. Then she was gone.
Waiting resumed. Théodwyn saw her son let out a long, heavy sigh. She remembered a time long ago now when she had been but a young woman and a handsome rider had been wooing her attentions... it was far away and she was an ageing mother of a young, unmarried king.
"She will be back soon, my son", Théodwyn promised her first-born child.
"Aye. And the time can't go by fast enough", he said, still staring after his bride.
Despite all her bittersweet longings Princess Théodwyn had to smile. She knew her son would be all right... House of Eorl would be fine. It would be a while still before she could move on... join those who had gone before her... but perhaps that was because she still had things to do here – things to finish. Perhaps there were lives here she would have to watch over.
Even so, she knew one thing for sure.
Light would dwell in this house once more.
