A/N: A reminder: some time ago I offered to put people on my own personal list and email you when I posted a new story, but only if the ffn alerts seemed to be down (which they presently are). Any of you who have recently joined me, send me an email with your email address (I don't think it will get retained in a PM), and I will add you to the list for the future. I will ONLY use the list for this purpose, nothing else. If you asked to be on the list before (or don't remember), and your email address has changed, let me know. At least one of them bounced as undeliverable.
If you don't want to be added to that list, I will at least remind you that on my multi-chapter stories, such as this one, I generally post a chapter a day (barring unforeseen difficulties). So check back daily for the update until the story concludes.
After the Rain
Chapter 2
I did just that over the next few days. If she had thought her duty discharged with the one excursion, and that I would turn my attention elsewhere, she was mistaken. Daily I confronted her, cheerfully requesting her company for various endeavors, and though she may have been less than enthusiastic, she never refused me. Had her family members not been so caught up in their own grief, and men, they might have noticed more, and possibly taken exception to my concerted efforts with Lothiriel.
But men grieve differently, and we have the outlet of sport to bleed off some of the sorrow that gets so pent up in ladies. At eleven years, when my father was killed, I had already begun learning of weapons. By the time I went to live at Meduseld with my uncle and cousin, I was old enough to seriously undertake weapons training, and Theodred wisely took me in hand. Possibly my skill partly resulted from the anger and pain I was feeling at the time, for I threw myself wholeheartedly into the practice sessions, determined to become adept quickly so that I might seek my revenge. I had spent the better part of my life ever since doing just that.
It is my opinion that ladies, particularly noblewomen, have too little to occupy their minds and their hands, and so distress such as this preys upon their thoughts without relief. Therefore, if the natural course of her activities would give Lothiriel no outlet, then I would. At present, I had nothing encroaching upon my time, so Lothiriel became my focus, whether she wished it or not.
Probably part of the reason I had supported Eowyn in her goal of becoming a shieldmaiden, proficient with sword, was an innate understanding that she needed that physical activity to help her through the struggle of loss. Over the years, as we were growing up, I could not give her a great many things I believed she needed, but I could give her that, and did. Naturally, I had no idea that it might lead her into battle on the Pelennor one day, but even that choice I did partly understand. At times, anger and frustration drive us to follow any course open to us, and that was the only path my sister could see at that point.
When we departed for Minas Tirith, at least Lothiriel was comfortable with my presence, if sometimes annoyed by it. Since we had not made it to the shops that first day of walking about town, she had taken me the next day when I again sued for her companionship. She had led me to a tiny, nondescript shop on an out-of-the-way street, but I could readily see why she liked it. Though I am not one who pays much mind to jewels and adornment, the trinkets on display here were not the usual kinds I generally saw gracing the arms, necks and ears of the nobility. Much of it was made from things of the sea, according to Lothiriel, and many she had to explain to me what they were as I did not recognize them.
At length, I settled on a necklace for Eowyn. It was crafted from tiny 'starfish' – at least that is what Lothiriel called them, though they bore no resemblance to any fish I had ever seen. They did look like minuscule stars, though, and reminded me somewhat of the stars on the mantle that Faramir had given my sister. I thought Eowyn would enjoy that association, and being given something so unusual from her new homeland, so I purchased it. I had some concern about how comfortable it might be, since fish or not, it was quite rough to the touch, but Lothiriel assured me that Eowyn could wear a high-necked dress under it to keep it off her skin and all would be well.
My men had rested two days, before setting out overland, and thus were several days ahead of us, though they would arrive about the same time as we did. Imrahil had his own boat, with a sizeable hold to accommodate our horses. I was not sure how Firefoot and the others would like the unsteady footing, but they managed well. Though they snorted and fussed at first, they soon settled and learned how to shift their weight to keep their balance on the rolling deck.
Not only the horses were uncertain. I noticed more than one apprehensive look pass among my escort, and I could not blame them. While I had enjoyed viewing the sea from the shore, climbing into a craft, though it seemed sturdy, was an unsettling proposition. I had heard talk indicating that some suffered sickness onboard boats, and it did not take long for two of my men to be so afflicted. They spent much time in their quarters. Personally, I only had a few brief moments of queasiness, but luckily nothing of great consequence. Certainly it was an easier way to travel than on horseback – not needing to make and break camp each day, not having to sit a saddle for hours, not having to worry about inclement weather making a miserable journey. At times, when we were below deck, I could almost think I was still upon land. We dined at tables, sitting on benches, and slept in beds.
Even onboard the boat, I continued my efforts with Lothiriel. I wasted no time in pressing her to show me about the boat and keep me well informed of what we were passing along the way, and everything new I stumbled upon. At times I must have seemed quite unintelligent with my abundance of questions, but if it served its purpose, I was willing to risk it.
Despite my persistence, however, I could not entirely remove her despair. Only time could truly heal her heart; I knew that, but still I had to try and ease the passage of that time until it began to happen. I was not surprised when I ventured on deck late one night, to find Lothiriel gazing up at the stars, lost in thought and tears moistening her cheeks.
"You think too much," I murmured quietly, causing her to start.
Hastily she brushed at her cheeks, and avoided looking at me, trying to sound nonchalant as she asked, "What do you mean?"
"Dwelling on your mother will not bring her back, but it is as salt in the wound," I answered.
Challengingly, she turned to face me and replied, "Would you have me forget her then?"
"No, never that. You could not, even if I counseled it. Just…do not give in to it. The memories of her will come unbidden, and may even move you to tears, but do not consciously seek them out. It is not a testament to her life to do so; it only prolongs your misery and slows your healing. Though I never knew her, I am sure she would have you live joyously, not weep in sorrow."
Struggling for composure, she turned away again, and hoarsely asked over her shoulder the question I had dreaded. "And how is it that you are so expert in the matter, my lord?"
It took me several minutes to form a response. At length, I told her, "I have lost many people in my life who were dear to me. It never gets any easier." She turned to face me again, and her expression suggested she anticipated further explanation, though I was not comfortable doing so. Still, how could I expect her to rely on my judgement in such things if I was unwilling to reveal anything of myself. Could I counsel her in overcoming her grief if it was evident I had not managed to do so myself?
Men are not supposed to show their feelings – it denotes weakness to do so. Confessing the pain I felt was difficult, but slowly I acknowledged to her, "My father was killed when I was eleven years, and my mother died of grief less than a year later, leaving me and Eowyn alone. My uncle took us into his home, and we were loved by both he and our cousin, Theodred, and we loved them in return. Yet both of them were lost to me in this war; Theodred at the Fords of Isen and Theoden on the Pelennor. For a time, I even thought Eowyn was gone from me, and that I was completely alone."
Voicing it, I was overcome with the enormity of my loss. All of my family, almost, taken from me. Eowyn was all I had left, but now she was leaving me through marriage. Suddenly I felt very cold and alone. I did not begrudge my sister the joy she had found, nor would I ever think to interfere and try to keep her with me for my own selfish reasons, but I would miss her greatly. Our shared grief as children had made us very close, and the uneasy climate in Meduseld, as Grima had woven his spell over Theoden for so long, had kept us clinging to one another for support through difficult times. Theodred, too, had become a brother to us, as dear as any born of our parents. But now the circle would be irrevocably broken, and I was not sure how I would manage with no one to succor me.
I thought the darkness would hide my feelings, even if they snuck onto my face, but the moonlight betrayed me. Lothiriel laid a cool hand on my arms, where I had them crossed over my chest, and murmured softly, "I think perhaps you are not so expert in recovering from grief as you would have me believe, my lord."
There was great compassion in her voice, though her countenance was in shadow. Certainly she knew enough of the subject to comprehend my feelings. I was grateful for her easy acceptance of my words, and that she did not seem to consider me weak because of them.
We stood in silence for several moments, and then she withdrew her hand from my arm to adjust her cloak more closely about her, shivering slightly in the cool night air. "If you will excuse me, my lord, I will try to take some rest. You should try also. We will arrive in port sometime tomorrow." She gave me an understanding smile and moved away, but I lingered for a while longer, remembering our exchange of words and wondering why I was so drawn to her. By the time I made for my bed, I had reached no firm conclusions, and I set the matter aside for later consideration.
xxxxx
Both the men and horses of Rohan were glad to set foot on solid ground once more. I could have joined Imrahil's family in riding up to Minas Tirith in the carriages provided, but opted instead to go with my men to check on the Rohirrim encampment on the Pelennor. Once we felt our horses had regained their legs sufficiently, we gave in to their eagerness for a run, engaging in a swift gallop. Apparently word had spread that our boat had docked, for Elfhelm rode out to meet us and assure me that all was well and the men were settled in. My escort party had arrived from Dol Amroth just the day before, and as there seemed nothing there I needed to do, I continued on to the city. I took only two guards this time, as housing was still limited within the city, leaving the remainder to settle in with the rest of our company.
Eothain, my close friend who had served as my second in command when I was Third Marshal, fell in as one of my guards, along with Walda and my esquire. Eothain was eager to hear my tales of Dol Amroth, as he had been in the group that rode from Edoras with Eowyn rather than accompanying me to the shore. I told him of all I had seen and done, though I did not mention my great attention to the Lady Lothiriel. That was no concern of his or anyone else's, though I wasn't sure why I wished to conceal it.
Perhaps I feared others would mistake it for something other than it was – friendly assistance in dealing with a thorny problem. I was an unmarried man, one many felt should marry quickly and soon, instantly producing offspring, and there was no question that Lady Lothiriel would be deemed eminently suitable to serve as queen. Now that I was king, my every move was studied and analyzed, secret motive seen where none existed. Gone were the days when I could act simply for the desire to be helpful. Well, I did not intend to encourage such speculation. I would continue to be cordial to the lady, and do all I could to assist her, but I would keep sufficient public distance so as not to incite rumors.
I was not surprised, as we drew near the city gates, to see a horse galloping madly toward us. It was clear the animal bore a woman rider, and I had no doubt it was Eowyn riding in such a manner. As they drew closer, it was plainly Windfola, and Eowyn reined him in just in time to skid to a stop beside us, scattering dust and pebbles as she did.
Teasingly, I waved at the air in front of me as though to find clean air to breathe. "Is the city under attack, Eowyn? Shall I send for an eored to ride with me?"
She made an unladylike face at me and then grinned. "I am just pleased you are here. How did you like Dol Amroth?" She fell in alongside me as we continued on toward Minas Tirith.
Once more, I spoke of my time there, and warned her of the sorrow Imrahil's family had suffered. She did not respond for a moment, then acknowledged, "Faramir mentioned Sirrin's passing. He cannot help but be affected by it, though he has seen little of his aunt in recent years. I hope it will not burden him too much, though I would understand if it did."
I reached over and grasped her arm understandingly, and she gave me a grateful smile. We had been supportive of one another for a long time. I might be handing her over to the care of another man soon, but I would always be there for her, whenever she needed me.
xxxxx
With Imrahil's family settled in their townhouse, and me staying in the King's house, I did not see a great deal of Lothiriel once we arrived in the White City. Only at gatherings did I have occasion to glimpse her, but now it was more difficult to approach her as I had more demands on my time. Even so, I kept a watchful eye, ready to go to her aid if ever I thought her struggling to cope.
As Faramir was much beloved in the city, the celebrations surrounding his wedding stretched over a number of days, and were taking place throughout the city. I had ventured into town, mostly to stretch my legs a little, and revelry was everywhere. I was readily recognized as Eowyn's brother, and both good wishes and ale were pressed upon me, even in the early morning. I declined the latter, until later in the day, but gladly received the former, pleased with the approbation Gondor had for my sister.
I had never seen my sister so frantic as she became the nearer we drew to her wedding day. She began to fret about detail after detail, checking and rechecking that all was ready. When I could stand her agitation no more, I seized her firmly by the shoulders and pressed her to halt in her frenzied scurrying about her chamber. "Eowyn," I said sternly, "be at peace. It is no matter if all is perfect, so long as you and your beloved are joined forever."
"But this is Gondor!" she protested, as if that explained everything. "Things…matter more here!"
"Not to Faramir, they do not. He will take one look at you and see nothing else. And if the rest can only stand about finding fault, then they must be very sad individuals indeed. Please, relax, and enjoy this time. You will not have another opportunity – this moment will never come again. The dress is ready, you are ready and Faramir is ready. Tomorrow you will stand before Aragorn and be made a wife." Then, grinning wickedly, I added, "If you must fret, remember that tomorrow night is your wedding night, when you will be with a man for the first time ever…"
Her eyes went wide and she smacked my chest. "I hate you!" she snarled, glaring up at me, but could not maintain it long and collapsed in my arms. "Is it truly that simple, Eomer? I do not want to disappoint Faramir, or embarrass him in front of his people."
I pressed a kiss to her head. "Where did this come from?" I questioned. "Has Faramir looked askance at anything you have ever said or done? Indeed, did he not choose a wild shieldmaiden from the north over all the proper ladies of Gondor to be his wife? I say again, be at peace. You are well familiar with courtly protocol from attending Theoden. You will not embarrass Faramir, and you would be hard pressed to disappoint him. He is hopelessly in love with you; do you not know that?"
She hugged me tightly and nodded. "I do. I do know it, but thank you for reminding me." Then turning her face up to gaze intently at me, she added, "Thank you for everything, Eomer. I know it will not be easy for you, not having me with you at Meduseld. Thank you for…" Her words trailed off, but I knew what she meant, and simply held her close.
"You are very welcome, sister. Be happy! I insist upon it!" I murmured, pressing another kiss to her hair.
xxxxx
Despite our discussion the previous day, Eowyn was still on edge when I went to collect her and take her for her wedding. Not until her eyes met Faramir's in the Tower Hall did she seem to start breathing once more. My part in presenting my sister to the king of Gondor and her betrothed was brief, and then I stood aside to become a mere bystander like everyone else. If I allowed myself to dwell on the proceedings, I knew I would struggle for composure, so I let my mind wander to other things in an effort to distract myself and maintain a dignified bearing.
My eyes wandered over those in attendance who were in my view without having to turn my head, and I was surprised to find two large grey eyes steadily watching me. I was not sure why Lothiriel's attention was so focused on me, but I got the uncomfortable feeling she was seeing more than I intended to reveal. She knew. I was sure she did. She had discerned my inner turmoil on this occasion. And then she did the most unexpected thing – she winked at me! For a moment, I thought I was mistaken about what I had seen but, no, there was a hint of a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. She had winked, I was certain of it, and she had done it on purpose. Only moments later, Aragorn was presenting the married couple to the crowd, and I blinked as I was brought out of my reverie and back to the matter at hand. But I was grateful for Lothiriel's distraction, saving me from myself.
Once Gondor had accepted their Steward and his wife with loud acclaim, the well-wishers came forward to offer more personal congratulations. Both Lothiriel and I were swallowed up in the crowd and I saw nothing more of her until we went into the Hall of Feasts for the wedding supper quite some time later.
Even wedding celebrations in Gondor are more stately and refined than what we have in the Mark. This had to be the most subdued wedding crowd I had ever witnessed, with their polite conversation and genteel manners. At home, the air would be filled with rowdy laughter and a few bawdy remarks about what was to come between the married couple. For Eowyn's sake, I was grateful the latter was absent, but I suspected all this formality would only set her nerves on edge. However, there was little I could do about that, and I had to leave it to her new husband to distract her from her agitation now. Glancing at them, it seemed he was equal to the task, for they were often so deep in quiet conversation that they appeared oblivious to the mass of people surrounding them.
Aragorn was smiling at the pair with great satisfaction, and that was gratifying also. I knew that, for a time, Eowyn had fancied herself in love with my dear friend, believing he could rescue her from the caged existence she was living and give her the renown she desired. For all that Aragorn was, I did not think he could have been happy with Eowyn, nor made her happy. And I felt certain she would never have found peace as the queen of Gondor. Not that I did not think my sister equal to being a queen, but if she had felt chafed and restricted in Rohan's court, it would be even worse here. This was an extremely rigid society, with very strict rules. Eowyn might have played their game for a time, but it would weary her soon enough. No, standing at Faramir's side as Princess of Ithilien and wife of the Steward was much more suitable to her temperament. She would shine brightly in that role and Faramir would cherish her constantly. I was overjoyed for her happiness and contentment, even as it broke my own heart.
My musings were beginning to overwhelm me again, so I cast my eyes about the room to attempt a distraction. It did not take long for me to spot Lothiriel seated with her brothers, though I could discern that she had drawn inward and was tolerating this social whirl but not enjoying it. Unless she withdrew, pleading some ailment, I suspected she would struggle to endure the night's activities.
Though I tried to turn my attention to others in the room, my eyes kept twitching back to the Dol Amrothians. I had determined to approach Lothiriel at the first opportunity, thinking perhaps to divert her sorrow with cheerful conversation, but as brother of the bride I soon discovered how difficult that was going to be. Once the meal concluded, tables were moved to the sides to allow for dancing, and I had an obligatory dance with Eowyn before Faramir cut in to claim his new wife.
Other ladies pressed in eagerly around me, hoping for a dance, and I did not think I could diplomatically avoid them. For nearly the next hour I suffered a constant stream of partners on the dance floor before finally feeling I could decline any. Although I had seen Lothiriel dancing with her father and Amrothos, that appeared to be the total of her efforts, and now she had settled at an out-of-the-way table, likely seeking a bit of quiet amid all the turmoil and noise.
It had done her little good, though. The noblemen of Gondor were eager to squire the lady, and gain her favor. They had her surrounded like a pack of wolves that had cornered a deer. How could the fools miss the agitation in her eyes and manner? Surely word had spread of her mother's demise; could they not even show a modicum of courtesy and compassion? Even as I pondered the behavior of these noblemen, my mind harkened back to Theoden's funeral. How many ladies of the court had pursued me even in my grief, batting their eyelashes and fawning endlessly, as though I could so easily set aside my sorrowing for one so beloved in order to woo them? I supposed this was no different – they wished to seize the opportunity while it was there, regardless of whether their actions were appreciated.
I am many things, but in all my life, no one has ever called me timid. I decide upon a course and then act, full willing to accept the consequences of my actions. Why should it be different in social settings such as this than on the battlefield? There were advantages to being a king, and I fully intended to make use of them. Shoving myself away from the pillar, I downed the remainder of my wine, and set the goblet on a nearby table before I strode briskly over to where Lothiriel sat.
"Lady Lothiriel, might I trouble you for your assistance?" I joined the young men thronged around her, but my size and presence caused the others to involuntarily step back and give way for me.
Looking up, seeming slightly startled by the request, she nodded. "Of course, my lord."
Casting a pointed look around the group, I asked, "Will you excuse us then, gentlemen?" Hastily they all sketched a bow, along with their murmured consent, and moved away as I offered Lothiriel my arm. Slowly she rose and laid her hand upon it, allowing me to guide her around the perimeter of the room and out into the cool darkness found on the terrace.
We walked in silence several moments before she ventured, "How may I assist you, my lord?"
A grin tweaked at my mouth and I smiled down at her in the moonlight. "You are already doing so. I felt very much in need of some fresh air, and I strongly suspected you might be also. So, you are keeping me company."
She ducked her head and blushed with embarrassment. "Was my distress so apparent?" she murmured softly.
I laid my hand over hers where it still rested on my arm. "Only to me. At least I hope that is the case, and that those men were not persisting in making advances despite their awareness of it. I give them the benefit of the doubt that they had not noticed."
She was silent for several moments as we continued to stroll, and then observed, "You are very kind, my lord."
"Yes. I am a fine fellow when one has the opportunity to come to know me well!" I jested, and was rewarded with her laughter.
Glancing up, with a smile on her face, she drew me to a halt and said sincerely, "I would have to agree with that assessment, truly. Again I say 'thank you'." For a few moments, we simply smiled at one another, and then she turned away, releasing my arm and changing the subject. "So, tell me, Eomer King, what do you find to occupy your time, when you are not busy rescuing Gondor from orcs, or ladies from distressing situations?"
For the first time since we had met I almost felt as though she was distancing herself from me, and I was not sure of the reason for it. Still, I had been able to get her to smile, even laugh. She had gone to sit on a bench and I joined her there, shrugging as I sat down beside her. "Oh, the usual kingly pursuits – signing treaties, mediating disputes, practicing walking with a crown on my head so as to give an unstudied appearance…"
She chuckled appreciatively at my humor. Normally, I was not overly given to such levity, but I knew all too well how easy it would be for her to become mired in the darkness and sorrow of her mourning. Such jesting, I hoped, would help her focus on happier thoughts, and draw her back into the world of the living. I had seen too many forever lost in their grief over the loss of a loved one.
I turned the tables on her and asked a question of my own. "Why did you wink at me during the wedding?"
She smiled gently and told me, "You are not the only observant one, my lord. I suspected your emotions were more fragile than you wished to make known, and I thought perhaps it would help you get through it."
She looked away, seeming mildly embarrassed by her audacity, but I chuckled at the answer. "Aye! You are right. Today makes things so…final."
"Yes…final," she murmured, though I did not think we were speaking of the same thing.
After a moment, she asked, "Are you bothered by your sister's marriage?"
"No," I hastened to make clear. "No, not in and of itself, I am not. I am only selfishly bothered by what it will mean to me. She is the last living member of my immediate family, and when I ride for the Riddermark, I will be going without her." I did not say how desolate that left me feeling.
She considered my words, then hesitantly queried, "But it will be easier when you have married, will it not? Then you will not feel so…alone."
She blushed and turned away, as I arched an eyebrow at her. This was certainly an unexpected conversation, particularly with a lady. I might not have been surprised had the noblewomen inside, who had been so eagerly pursuing me, brought the matter up for discussion, but I could not imagine Lothiriel's words were a hint that she might be inclined to fill that role in my life. Deciding not to read more into her conversation than was likely intended, I answered mildly, "I suppose that is true, though I am not presently seeking such. There is too much that needs doing at home, and I would not wish to take a bride and then have no time to spend with her." Then, grinning, I added, "Though I am sure this news will greatly disappoint both my advisers, and many of the noblewomen here and at home!"
She laughed and smiled up at me. "That is for certain, my lord! I…I have already overheard much discussion of your marital status in the short time we have been at Minas Tirith. I suppose it is sparked by Eowyn's alliance, but there is much speculation with regards to you."
She faltered, seeming to think she had said too much, and looked away. I was silent for quite some time before finally admitting, "They may speculate all they wish, but I will not be pressed into such a thing. Perhaps I do not conform to usual royal expectations in such matters, but I want what my parents had, what my sister has found. I want a beloved wife as my bride, not merely a noble consort to serve as a figurehead. Until I love, I will not marry, and they waste their time trying to cause me to act otherwise!"
Likely she did not know how to respond to such a declaration, but at length she answered quietly, "I wish you well in that, my lord. It will not be an easy battle for you, as they are quite resolute, but I think perhaps you are a man equal to the challenge. And, personally, I think you have the right of it in your view. A queen can be a boon to her king, but a wife can make or break her husband. I do not think you need the added stress in your life of not sharing it with a true companion."
I was startled at her understanding, but appreciated it all the same. Few ladies would say such a thing to me. It could only mean that she was either not interested in being that companion, or thought to find favor through her compassion. I blinked at that thought and mentally chastized myself. Lothiriel had given me no reason to suspect her motives. Why should I not accept her gentle words for what they were, and not seek some ulterior, hidden purpose to them? I could not restrain a sigh as I recognized the course of my thoughts. All the politcal machinations of late had left me on my guard, eyeing everything with a wary eye. I did not like living in such a manner.
Determined not to let others influence my thoughts and behavior, I turned the conversation again, away from me. Though I realized it might be painful for her, I thought now might be a good opportunity for her to speak of her mother. One of the things I had noticed was that people danced around you when you were grieving. Fearful of causing you distress, they avoided discussing the person that was lost, thus never allowing you to express your feelings. Those feelings, I was certain, needed expressing.
"Tell me about your mother – what was she like? As lovely as her daughter?" I questioned. I knew that last question sounded a bit flirtatious, but I hoped it would serve to put her at her ease.
She blushed, then shifted restlessly in her seat on the bench, gazing up at the sky, and I waited patiently for a response. Finally, she murmured, "She…she was beautiful."
When she did not continue, I teased, "So, she was as lovely as you, then!"
Lothiriel blushed again, but it seemed to help her recover her composure. "Not so! She was so much more than I shall ever be! She was…tall and graceful, kind and compassionate. Though she could not often show it in court, she had a delightful sense of humor and greatly enjoyed teasing my father." She fell into personal reverie, a smile on her face. I could not help thinking her words described Lothiriel very well also, but I did not press that issue, not wanting to embarrass her or have her think wrongly of my intent.
Seeking to pull her back to speaking, I asked, "Assuming she was not truly a sea sprite, did she hail from Dol Amroth?"
She laughed at my recalling her words from our walk on the seashore. "Near Dol Amroth. She was born and lived most of her life in Edhellond." I vaguely recalled that town was about fifty miles or so from Dol Amroth. Erchirion had mentioned something about it having been where the Elves once resided, and from where many of them had sailed to the Undying Lands.
Before I could nudge her with more questions, she readily slipped into elaborating. "They met at a ball to celebrate Tuilere. Father was more than thirty years of age by then, and feeling much pressure to find a wife. Even so, he had resisted all attempts to tie him to any of the marital prospects presented to him up until then. But that night, when they met, he could not keep his eyes off her – something drew him to her like a moth to a flame. He asked her to dance, and he said looking in her eyes it felt as though he had known her all of his life. They became so lost in one another, they forgot all about the dance and others around them. They danced several in a row and then exited to the balcony to talk, and were not seen the remainder of the evening. Grandfather Adrahil was quite upset with Father's rude behavior at court, but when Father told him he intended to make Sirrin of Edhellond his wife, all was forgiven. Of course, it took a while to do so. Things are never straightforward when one is a prince! He had to court her for a year before they were allowed to wed."
"Then I take it your mother was as smitten with him as he was with her," I commented, smiling at her tale.
"Oh, yes! Mother said she had been curious to glimpse the son of the Prince, having heard much of him, but when she saw him across the room and their eyes met, her first thought was 'That is the man I am going to marry'. She just…knew."
"Would that all of us could be so fortunate," I murmured, and she turned to smile at me.
"You will find someone to love, my lord. I feel sure of it. You have much to recommend you to any woman," she told me sincerely.
But I snorted with vexation and retorted, "Yes – a crown upon my head!"
She smiled at my answer, but quietly clarified, "That also, but I meant something more substantial. In the time that I have known you, you have shown yourself to be a good and kind man, regardless of your status. Indeed, I do not deny it is a very fine head that wears the crown of Rohan, and the ladies have surely noted that, but if you are to find true love, it is your many other fine qualities that will draw their notice, and acceptance of your offer."
I had not expected such homage, and was not sure how to react, but her approbation seemed unfeigned. This was no mere flattery; she truly believed what she said, and I was grateful for the vote of confidence. I did not feel entirely worthy of her acclaim, but if I could rightly be entitled to such praise, then I could hope my future would not be so bleak as it sometimes appeared.
My thoughts were disrupted as she rose and smiled down at me. "And, now, my lord, I think we must return inside. Father will wonder where I am, and surely the bride's brother will have been missed by now."
I stood, also, shifting my shoulders and trying to prepare for my return to the noise and strain of socializing. This had proven to be a most pleasant interlude in the moonlight, though I had not expected that when I drew her away from her predators. Offering my arm, I nodded, "You are right, of course. But do not think I will hesitate to act if they descend upon you again, with so little regard for your feelings. Being a king does allow one certain…privileges, and I am not shy about using them."
She laughed melodically, and my heart lightened at the sound. At least for a brief moment, I had succeeded in my goal of distracting her. We strolled back inside in comfortable silence, and I led her to the refreshment table to procure wine for us, as I was thirsty from our conversation and assumed she was as well. Not long after, Erchirion appeared and claimed her for a dance, and I allowed my eyes to wander the room to see what might have changed in my absence.
"Where did you disappear to?" Eowyn was at my elbow, eyeing me curiously as she sipped some wine.
I wasn't sure I wanted to confess my whereabouts to her, but I knew Eowyn too well to think she would let me dodge the question. "I was getting some air and talking with Lady Lothiriel. She was telling me of her mother."
It wasn't exactly accurate in describing what had happened, but I knew it would be sufficient to answer Eowyn's question and deflect her curiosity. Sighing, she looked up at me. "She is having difficulty? Faramir said that she was likely to suffer the most."
I nodded. "I do not think Imrahil or his sons know quite how to help her. They forget that sometimes just listening is enough to aid someone."
My sister smiled tenderly at me, saying, "Well, as I recall, you are a very good listener. Thank you for doing that. I know Faramir will appreciate it, even if her family does not notice. Too bad she is not so close with her brothers as you and I were, or at least in a different way."
I wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her head. "I will miss you, Eowyn," I whispered. "Very much."
In response, she slipped her arms around me and we stood thus for quite some time, oblivious to the swirl of people around us, until Faramir came to collect his bride and make their departure. Understanding what was to come, very soon, Eowyn tensed in my embrace. Leaning close to her ear, I whispered, "Relax, little sister. You can do this. Women do it all the time. He loves you and he will be patient and gentle. If he is not, you are well able to defend yourself!"
My teasing had the desired effect, and she stepped back, slapping my chest. "You are horrible! Evil, evil man! I take my leave of you!" But despite her words, I easily saw the tenderness in her eyes, which only deepened as she turned her gaze upon Faramir, who stood watching our exchange with mild amusement.
He offered his arm to her, gave me a cordial nod and the two made their way slowly toward the exit. Part of me wanted to run after them – force them apart and refuse to let him touch her as I knew he would. But that could not be. This was the natural course of life – a man and woman joining together in love, and then adding children to our world through that love. I very much hoped that Lothiriel was right and that I, too, could find such a thing. Winter is very cold in Rohan, and I did not look forward to enduring it alone.
The festivities continued on for some time, I am sure, but I did not remain much longer. I had seen Lothiriel depart not long after the wedded couple, and chose to make my escape as well.
TBC
Sirrin – "river queen"
Walda - from weald - "power"
FYI: There are some distances given between locations for LOTR, but not all. I'm figuring it took about 4 days for the trip from Dol Amroth to Minas Tirith by boat, and the Riders traveling overland took about 9 days. So having set out 6 days before Eomer did, they arrived the day before he did. (and thanks to Lady Bluejay for giving me a more realistic reckoning of the travel time by boat)
For this particular scenario, you'll have to assume the Fourth Age started in Sep, 3021 rather than in March as I usually have it. Shire Reckoning fixed the beginning of the Fourth Age to coincide with Frodo sailing to the Undying Lands in Sept. rather than the March reckoning Gondor tended to use.
Tuilérë
Spring holiday. Tuilere was a day between the months of March and April. It did not belong to either month. Tuilere and the autumn holiday Yaviere were added to the Revised Calendar of the Stewards' Reckoning created by Mardil in 2060. The Stewards' Reckoning was used in Gondor and other places where the Common Speech was spoken, but not in the Shire.
The colour of deepest mourning among medieval European queens was white rather than black. This tradition survived in Spain until the end of the fifteenth century, and was again practiced by the Spanish-born Belgian Queen Fabiola of King Baudouin's funeral. It was the custom for the Queens of France to wear deuil blanc or "white mourning".