Chapter 3

Lothíriel's mood had been quiet and thoughtful when she had got back to her room, and only when she was in the bed and had pulled covers over herself had she remembered about her intentions to get some tea. But she had felt too tired to venture out again, and so blew out her candle and curled up under the soft blankets.

She had fallen asleep thinking of the a pair of dark eyes and how tonight she had for the first time seen such flicker of warmth in them.

The morning was chillier than ever since her arrival in Edoras. With a groan she rolled out of bed and stumbled around until she found her thick woollen robe, newly purchased from the capital's finest dressmaker. It was deep red in colour, much unlike her usual repertoire of blues and silver. But something about Rohan had given her an appreciation for warm, earthy colours.

She found her slippers, too, and then felt sufficiently warm to splash her face with some cold water.

Moments later entered her maid, a young woman of the name of Hild; she was Captain Éothain's sister. She was fair-haired and had same blue eyes as her older brother, same wide cheekbones. And she was taller than Lothíriel, with curvaceous figure she didn't seem to be aware of yet, but was sure to make her very popular among young men of Edoras. Hild had been shy when she had first started as the esteemed guest's maid, but she had quickly warmed up and was now smiling brightly as she bid good morning in Rohirric.

"Did you sleep well, my lady?" asked Hild as she switched to Common Tongue. Lothíriel's Rohirric did not yet allow much small talk.

"Well enough, Hild. I'm finally starting to get used to all the small noises in Meduseld. It's so different to my father's palace. I'm not used to not hearing the sea", Lothíriel answered. In her dreams, though, she could some nights hear the rising of the tide.

"For my part, I can hardly imagine what the sea sounds like. It must be quite terrible", Hild commented. Her voice implied she was perfectly happy not having to find out. Lothíriel hid a smile.

"People are comforted by different things", she stated at length. "Surely sea is terrible, but it is beautiful, too. And it's the source of livelihood for Dol Amroth, and for that my people love it."

Hild hemmed something non-committally and began to dig through the finely carved chest at the foot of the bed.

"What would you like to wear today, my lady?" Hild asked, carefully shifting through folded pieces of clothing.

"Something easy and practical, I think. I'll be holed up in the Queen's Solar with Lady Éowyn at least until afternoon. There's no reason to sit in state while I teach her some basic Sindarin", said Lothíriel.

Hild produced a deep blue gown made of fine wool and for a moment they were busy lacing it on. The maid worked swiftly and so it wasn't long before Lothíriel was seated and Hild was brushing her hair.

The quiet moment also reminded her of some thoughts that had been in her mind last night before she had fallen asleep. And seeing Hild was sister to Captain Éothain, second in command to the King and reportedly his good friend, who better to answer some of those questions?

"Hild, may I ask you something?" Lothíriel inquired at last.

"Of course, my lady", the maid answered absent-mindedly, combing through her dark hair.

Lothíriel hesitated for a minute and hoped her question wasn't too prying.

"Do you know King Éomer well?" she asked at length.

"As well as anyone, I suppose. Éothain knows him much better. They have been friends since they were both young lads, but I was too small at the time to participate in their games", Hild answered. She laid the brush aside and began to arrange Lothíriel's hair in three neat braids, one at each side of the head and one on the top, which then came together to form a single braid to fall down her back. It was a very unusual way for a lady of Gondor to wear her hair, but Lothíriel found she liked the imagination Rohirrim put to these adornments, and so she usually gave Hild free hand.

"Would you say he's a happy man?" she asked after another moment of silence.

Hild didn't say anything at first. When she spoke at length, her tone was wary.

"Men of duty rarely are happy, or so my brother Éothain says. Éomer King is of the House of Eorl, and the ruling house has always dealt with troubles and sorrows that are not known to their people", she spoke solemnly as her clever fingers worked over Lothíriel's hair.

Lothíriel fell silent and thought of Hild's careful answer. Obviously, the maid had been trying not to say too much. But still her words revealed enough. She now understood her initial assessment over King Éomer's character was quite far from the truth.

She thought again of the conversation last night. What did it make him feel now in bright daylight? Did he regret talking to her with such raw honesty and revealing his doubt and grief? She shuddered. After last night's camraderie, it would be a pity to go back to the earlier wariness.

When Hild was done, Lothíriel thanked her, slipped her feet in soft ankle boots that were infinitely more practical and reasonable here in Meduseld than a dainty pair of slippers, and then exited her rooms. She could already hear sounds from the great hall. Lothíriel headed that way, too. Her stomach growled impatiently.

Many of the royal household were already seated by the tables, which would be cleared away once again when breakfast was finished. Each morning until now, Lothíriel had confidently made her way to the dais to sit next to Éowyn. But now her stride was not so certain: this morning, the King held the centre spot and suddenly she wasn't sure if it was still fine for her to have a seat in his table. She searched for Éowyn's face for reassurance. Her friend's eyes met her own and the White Lady flashed her a welcoming smile. At once Lothíriel felt at ease again.

But when she got to the dais, a pair of dark eyes fixed on her. Then came a smile – a faint one, and it seemed to be more in his eyes than his features, but it still nearly made her stumble. Heat rushed up her neck but thankfully, Lothíriel was able to retain her balance.

King Éomer tactfully ignored her clumsy little moment. He rose on his feet, passed by his sister who sat by his side, and pulled back the chair right next to Éowyn. As he did, he bowed his head and greeted her, "Good morning, my lady."

"Good morning, Sire. Éowyn", Lothíriel said and managed to mask her surprise. She folded the hems of her skirt and sat down.

"And to you, my friend!" Éowyn replied. Her smile was cheerful and her blue eyes twinkled as though she was privy to some kind of a private joke.

King Éomer took seat again and pushed a basket of freshly baked bread to Lothíriel's direction. Éowyn helpfully passed it along.

"So, my lady", he said as he returned to his half-finished meal, "I hope you have settled down all right in Meduseld. Is there anything you require? Are the conditions acceptable to you?"

He sounded so formal when he made these questions and quickly she wondered if he was acting thus because last night had left him just as clueless as she had felt before. But Lothíriel quickly dismissed the idea. A famous warrior king surely had no reason to feel taken aback by his friend's young daughter – even if he had revealed some raw griefs to her recently.

"I'm quite comfortable. Don't worry about it, Sire. And Éowyn has spared no effort in making me feel welcome", Lothíriel said and cast a smile at the King.

"As I very well should, considering you have agreed to stay with us for the whole winter and teach me", Éowyn put in firmly. She was leaning back in her chair and held a mug of tea between her hands, giving it an occasional blow to cool it down a little bit.

The White Lady glanced at her brother, "In fact, we're starting the lessons after breakfast."

"What will you be studying?" he inquired.

"I was thinking of gauging Éowyn's grasp of Sindarin", Lothíriel said. It should be an easy thing for her to teach, seeing it was the tongue she used with her own family. While she didn't doubt Faramir's willingness to carry on a conversation in Westron, she also knew how the Elven tongue was regarded in Gondor. Commanding it fluently was often seen as a sign of rank and sophistication and there were some circles that would eagerly use it to make one feel left out – although Lothíriel sometimes felt that the fiercest gatekeepers of Sindarin were also those who were most unsure of their own capability. But either way, Sindarin was King Elessar's own native tongue as it was his wife's, and this fact was bound to have some consequences in the court.

Éowyn made a harsh sound in the back of her throat.

"In that case, you should prepare yourself for something very ridiculous. I can't emphasise enough how poorly I manage it", she said and took a sip of her tea.

But Lothíriel was quick to set things straight.

"I didn't come here to laugh at your failings, Éowyn, but to help you overcome them. No true teacher ridicules their pupil for the things they don't yet know", she stated sternly. Right when she spoke these words she happened to glance at King Éomer's way and saw him looking at her. Corners of his mouth were lifted in a faint smile, but in his eyes there was something thoughtful.

Éowyn was smiling and she looked relieved.

"In that case, I think we'll be just fine", she said warmly. She then threw a glance at her brother before looking back at Lothíriel again, "Éomer has a much better grasp on Sindarin, to tell you the truth. I guess he has head for languages unlike I do. I remember how he and Théodred used to sometimes talk in Sindarin, and I was so angry for them leaving me out!"

Her brother's smile became crooked.

"As a child he had learnt to speak it almost fluently and wanted to keep it up, which is no easy thing when there almost no Sindarin speakers in Rohan. I wasn't half bad, so that made me his preferred companion for practice. I suppose the childish part of me was even smug to have a secret language Éowyn couldn't keep up with sufficiently. But it also made me feel like Théodred regarded me something special", he said for his part. Lothíriel noted his expression conveyed more of a bittersweet emotion than pain and grief of last night. It almost distracted her from another surprising thing: a fierce warrior king from wild North having such command over the tongue that was now preserved mostly in the old Númenórean families and treated by some as proof of a higher lineage.

"Well, I imagine that should give you an edge over certain noblemen of Gondor, Sire. I can honestly tell you that there are some who would be very surprised and even mildly insulted to know you can understand them perfectly even when they are trying to be exclusive", Lothíriel commented in wry humour, which made both siblings laugh. Éowyn's laughter was a bright silvery sound, but her brother let out a low, rumbling chuckle. For whatever reason, Lothíriel could feel a shiver run down her spine.

"I will remember that, my lady. An element of surprise is always advantage when you go to battle", said King Éomer. Now he was genuinely smiling and the impact was no less than last night.

"So you think politics and court interactions are akin to battlefield, my lord?" Lothíriel asked and raised an eyebrow. Well, maybe she shouldn't be surprised. War had obviously shaped this man in very profound ways, so it was not wonder it had also impacted his view of the world.

"It has felt like that sometimes, yes", he replied and the smile on his face faded.

"Diplomacy is not my brother's strongest suit", Éowyn stated mildly, as though to soften the suddenly serious mood. She cast a smile at Lothíriel, "Maybe you could teach him more about that, my friend. Make a business out of educating the House of Eorl."

King Éomer grunted, either because he thought Éowyn was over-sharing or because his sister presumed he needed to be lectured in diplomacy by a sheltered young woman. But Lothíriel let out a light laugh.

"You are looking at the wrong member of the House of Dol Amroth. Elphir is the diplomat", she said and shook her head. "But still, Sire, you're not entirely wrong. My father sometimes called politics a battle of wits. I'm nost sure how much battling he has had to do in that regard though, seeing our House has always had a high degree of power in Gondor thanks to few very advantageous marriages along the way and ruling over some of the most prosperous lands of the realm. Some even call us the Happy House of Dol Amroth... obviously, they've never met corsairs."

"But clearly they have met Amrothos", King Éomer quipped and leant back in his chair.

At first Lothíriel was too surprised to react. The gruff, sharp-eyed King of Rohan was cracking jokes with her! It was the last thing she had expected of this morning. But even so, she couldn't deny she was highly entertained by his remark, and once the first wave of surprise had washed over her, she began to laugh.

"Indeed", she said and smiled brightly at the King. "That would quite explain it."

The conversations remained light for the rest of the meal, and it was not long before she and Éowyn rose and headed for the Queen's solar again. But to herself Lothíriel thought about King Éomer and how much there was hidden behind that stern face.

The two women spent most of the morning working on Éowyn's Sindarin. The White Lady did struggle a little bit with the Elven tongue, but not as much as her words had suggested. Her previous learning started to come back quickly, and by lunchtime they had covered some basic vocabulary, traditional greetings and introducing oneself.

Éowyn insisted on continuing over the lunch, asking her friend to name the foods and the dishes in the table, and trying to conjure some conversation with the help of morning's lessons. Lothíriel helped only where it was necessary. To herself, she thought how eager and determined Éowyn was to learn. She hoped Faramir would know to appreciate his bride's efforts to understand and adapt to his society.

But about halfway through lunch, Éowyn switched back to Westron again and gave her friend a studious look.

"I must say, Lothíriel", she began slowly, "I was a little surprised by how easily you conversed with my brother at breakfast. I had thought you felt wary of him."

"I used to, Éowyn", said Lothíriel at length. She tried to think of what to say. She wanted to be honest with Éowyn, and she was his sister, but on the other hand she felt like she owed to King Éomer to keep his confidence. She cleared her throat, "I just happened to meet him last night when I was on my way to kitchen. We talked a little bit and I found there was no reason to feel uncomfortable near him."

Her friend looked pleased. With a smile, Éowyn commented, "Didn't I tell you so? I'm glad you changed your mind. There are a lot of people who assume many things about my brother. Sometimes they're right, but often they are wrong. And being a king, you don't get to have that many friends who know you as you are. That's become clear, at least."

"It sounds like a lonely way of living", Lothíriel said softly and considered her half-eaten meal.

"And it is, my friend. But I think he knew to expect that. A Marshal is not as alone as king, but it's still a position where you have to shoulder so much duty. And he was so young when he was appointed", Éowyn said gravely. She let out a sigh and shook her head.

They ate in silence for a while. Lothíriel didn't feel particularly hungry anymore as she thought of what it would be like to live without her father and brothers while being saddled with such a heavy responsibility. However, knowing how many in Rohan were tightening their belts, she couldn't bear to act like a spoiled brat who would not even finish her food.

Eventually she had to say something to break the silence.

"I suppose it's easy to assume a lot of things about people. Especially when you haven't been out in the world very much and met that many people from lands foreign to you", she said at length.

A faint smile appeared on Éowyn's face.

"That is true. Yet no matter where they come from, people are just... well, people. I have met so many during and after the Ring War, friends and strangers from distant lands, and I have come to think there are more things that unite us than set us apart. I believe that should be the starting point when we build our peace", she mused thoughtfully and finished her drink.

"That is a wise thing to say", said Lothíriel and looked at her friend with a smile.

"Well", Éowyn said and shrugged, "I have chosen to have faith in people. I think that's the only way we can hope to mend the hurts of this world."

Lothíriel nodded. Her father had often told her something similar; she guessed it was also the reason he and Lord Denethor had never been very good friends.

"Isn't it hard, sometimes? Keep having faith in people?" she asked her friend. Not that she didn't, but Éowyn had known so much more grief than her and got a much closer look at evil things men could do.

Again her friend flashed that faint smile.

"Of course it is. But that's why one must hold on to it, Lothíriel. It's easy to be hard and cold and doubtful. Yet just because something is easy doesn't make it right... or desirable. If we fall into apathy and give in to despair, then failure is all the more certain. We only have one life here, my friend, and I'm done tainting mine with a dark and grim perspective", she said firmly, like this was something she believed with her whole fierce soul. She let out a soft laugh, "Can you believe it is actually something those four brave hobbits taught to me? I think their way of life and view of the world are something the rest of us could learn from."

"That's something to think about", Lothíriel said after a moment of digesting her friend's words. She smiled, "But I don't think you are wrong."

Rest of the afternoon passed by quickly as they delved into the matter of the history of Gondor. Now there was a subject one could spend a lifetime studying, as some masters did in Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth. She knew not a few of them had taken refuge in her father's city, though libraries and archives of Dol Amroth were not quite as extensive as those of the White City. However, for many years now atmosphere of Minas Tirith had not encouraged learning. Youths were rather taught to wield a sword than a quill and the ever-present shadow in the East had distilled doubt and fear in the hearts of so many, closing their minds from higher learning.

But Lothíriel had no doubt all that would change with the return of the king, and Minas Tirith would once again become a beacon of light and wisdom and knowledge.

Though they had taken short breaks and even went for a walk outside, they both still felt more or less drained when Éowyn suggested they finish for the day.

"That was really quite intense. Even more so than I expected", she commented as she stood up and stretched herself seemingly from head to toe.

Lothíriel did the same and rubbed the back of her neck.

"Faramir says that mind is a muscle. It wears down, too", she said, smiling wryly. "We can take it easier tomorrow. There's still plenty of time until spring."

Her friend smiled absentmindedly.

"We'll see", she merely said and brushed back her hair. With a slightly sharper look she looked at Lothíriel again, "I hope you don't mind that I asked Éomer to dine with us tonight. It just seemed right, especially after our conversation earlier today."

Lothíriel had seen Éowyn talking briefly with her brother when they had returned from their walk, but she hadn't thought at all what they'd be talking about.

In any case, how could she mind after last night? And even if they had not shared that strange little moment of companionship, one couldn't refuse to dine with a king. Furthermore, this really seemed like it was important to Éowyn.

"I don't mind", she answered and smiled a little. Then she glanced about and saw how they had spread their notes and parchments about the flat surfaces in the Queen's solar. She went on, "We'll have to clean up, though, if we mean to be able to eat here."

"Oh, don't worry about it. He insisted we eat in his rooms", Éowyn said nonchalantly.

"Very well", said Lothíriel and tried not to appear very nervous. Despite last night, and this morning's conversation, he was still a king and a famous warrior – not to mention unsettlingly comely when he bothered to smile.

After a half an hour's glorious soak in a bath, it was time to get dressed and go join the King and his sister. For a minute Lothíriel felt like maybe she should wear something a little more formal, but she dismissed that idea soon enough. Éowyn hadn't said anyone else would be joining them, and the two siblings were not ones to make a fuss, so it would just seem odd for Lothíriel to arrive in state. She chose a simple midnight blue gown with silver embroideries and wrapped her single braid in a circlet around her head.

She knew the general direction of the royal chambers, but Lothíriel still felt a little uneasy as she made her way there. Even with Éowyn's invite, it was like she was doing something forbidden.

At the doorway leading to the King's rooms there were two Riders standing guard. They were an intimidating sight in their full armour, but apparently they knew to expect her, as they let her pass without a word. Next was a small antechamber, and behind it a wide, comfortable parlour. It clearly had the most optional location and setting out of all the living quarters in the Hall. Hangings covered the walls and colourful rugs and pelts were thrown across the floor. Next to the door was an enormous, ornately carved chest that seemed to serve both as depository and a seat; she saw a pair of polished riding boots next to it. Near the fireplace stood two big armchairs with low stools nearby. One more door lead to another room, a bedchamber perhaps. A table with three chairs was already set in the centre and Éowyn was giving orders to a couple of servants. Her brother was not yet present.

Glancing around the place, Lothíriel quickly noticed there weren't many personal objects lying around. While the room certainly had that cozy and visually rich atmosphere that was prevalent in Meduseld, it also had somehow a little impersonal feel to it. Well, King Éomer was still new to his throne and probably these rooms as well, and he struck her more of an outdoor type anyway.

"Ah, there you are! Come in, come in. Now where's that errant brother of mine?" Éowyn chatted, sounding much more energetic than one would expect after a long day of studies. Where did these people get their drive?

As if on cue, the door opened again and the King of Rohan strode inside. He was in shirtsleeves and his hair was pulled messily back from his face. When he approached, Lothíriel saw that his eyes were weary.

"Am I late?" he asked and smiled at his sister. He also gave a nod to their guest, who stood a little awkwardly at the side.

"Yes! We have been waiting hours and hours for you!" Éowyn exclaimed dramatically and pushed him closer towards the table. She also beckoned Lothíriel to join them.

At first they ate in silence. The clinking of cutlery was the only sound for a while, and Lothíriel kept her eyes in her food. She wasn't sure why she should feel awkward after the fairly easy conversation of this morning, but perhaps it was just because this situation was so new and strange.

Éowyn was the one to break the silence.

"It's nice to be eating together. I remember us doing that years ago, when Éomer had not yet gone to Aldburg", she commented and smiled at her companions.

"I like it, too. Father insists we always eat together when he's at home", Lothíriel commented. She hid a smile when she thought of it. Family dinners in Dol Amroth could sometimes be a noisy business when they were together.

"Aye. There wasn't much of that when I joined my éored in Aldburg", said the King in low tones. "Most others were young men like myself, and older ones had families to return to every night. So we ate in the hall. There was lots of bad jokes and immature talk, and I can assure you this is highly preferable."

Éowyn nodded emphatically.

"I very much agree. We should do this more often", she said and looked like the idea pleased her greatly.

"It's not the worst idea", said her brother. His voice was both a little gruff and approving; only he could manage such mixture. Still, his expression became gentle when he asked, "How were your lessons?"

"It was quite fascinating, brother. I think you would have enjoyed it too. Lothíriel was telling me about the founding of Gondor today. Of course I've always known it took place over three thousand years ago, but I never really thought about it – the sheer length of years that is between this moment and when Elendil and his sons set foot in Middle-earth. It makes our way of life here in Rohan seem so small and modest", Éowyn commented and poured all three of them more to drink.

"You have to remember, though", Lothíriel was quick to add, "Their people had sent thousands of years in the peace and prosperity of Elenna. Climate was mild and gentle there and resources were plentiful, at least until their greed and ambition grew too much. They had no enemies at their borders. And they had contact and many wondrous gifts from the Blessed Realm. Meanwhile, ancestors of your people were surviving in much harsher conditions. I know there are some in Gondor who like to make comparisons between our peoples, but they tend to forget the advantages our predecessors had."

"See? You are always telling me how sheltered you are, and yet you know all these things and can speak so easily about matters I can hardly put into words!" Éowyn said, as though to finally finish a long, on-going argument. Her brother's eyes shifted between them, thoughtful and deep.

Lothíriel let out a small, awkward laugh.

"Well, I suppose there is some benefit to practically growing up in a library", she said and smiled at two siblings. Hurriedly she went on to shift the focus of conversation from herself, "But you told me you were taught as a children, no?"

"We were", King Éomer answered, "Uncle went as far as bringing a teacher from Gondor for us. He had been vigorously educated as a child and wanted us to have the same upbringing. But I admit half of my mind was always out in the training fields. I was more eager to learn to fight. Now as a king, I sometimes wish I had paid closer attention in the school room."

He let out a sigh and shook his head. Éowyn regarded him with serious eyes.

"Perhaps your children and mine will have better chances in that", she stated softly. Then she looked at Lothíriel again, "I wouldn't say either of us were reluctant to learn. Our mother had taught us to read and to write and those came to us easily. But it all was just so much at the time. Uncle thought that having something to do would help us recover. He meant well, I know that. But much of our first year in Edoras is blank for me."

"I wonder if that's a blessing or not", said her brother, directing at least half of his words at Éowyn. "I remember it all too well, and it's not any better than having no memory at all."

"Even so, I do envy you", Éowyn stated. "I don't recall as much of our childhood in Aldburg as I would like to."

"I remember us being happy", King Éomer said and his voice grew quiet. His forehead creased with a frown when he continued, "but for a long time, those memories only made me bitter. I was so angry with them both for leaving us. Yet it didn't get better, no matter how many orcs I killed. Eventually I just... ran out of anger, I suppose. And then it seemed like duty was the only thing I had left. So it became my purpose, and I forgot about everything else that mattered."

With that last sentence he directed his eyes at his sister. The meaning of his words was plain to see on his features, and Lothiriel now wondered if his guilt went much deeper than she had first guessed.

"Brother, we have talked about this before", Éowyn said. Her voice was gentle at first, but it grew stronger soon enough. "We both made mistakes. I should have confided in you more, asked for your help. I should have taken a more active role by Uncle's side, instead of just pitying myself and wringing my hands. If I had acted when there was still time, then maybe Wormtongue would have not got such power in the court… and Théodred would still live."

Her face was dark and fierce, but the expression was smoothed away soon enough. She waved her hand.

"But we can't wallow in the past and beat ourselves over our mistakes. We can just try to learn from it and make sure we don't let it happen again", she said firmly.

She looked now at Lothíriel and offered an apologetic smile.

"Please forgive us. This was not the table conversation I meant to have tonight", she said with a wry smile.

"It's all right. You are my friend and I don't consider myself inconvenienced to have you open up to me about things that weigh on you", Lothíriel said. She wasn't sure how much of her words were meant for both siblings, though she surely did notice that the King was regarding her with keen eyes.

Their talks became lighter after that, even going as far as invoking a few laughs from all three of them. Lothíriel decided she rather liked King Éomer's low, rumbling laughter.

When they had finished, servants came to clear the table. Éowyn served them some spicy tea as they took seat by the fireplace, where flames were now merrily dancing. Autumn nights were getting more and more chilly in Rohan. It was cozy, sitting there and drinking tea, as the two siblings shared some amusing tales from happier days. Éowyn's face was bright with smiles and dear memories, and even her normally serious brother looked to be at ease. There was a warm glimmer in his eyes that made his glance surprisingly soft.

It was already getting late when the two women finally rose up and bid good night to the King. Lothíriel was sure she just imagined it, but for a brief moment it almost looked like he was reluctant to see them go. But then Éowyn remarked something and the thought dropped from her mind.

In the corridor, Éowyn spoke to her in soft voice.

"Thank you for joining us, Lothíriel. I feel like this was maybe even more important to my brother than I had guessed… he rarely opens up like that, even to me. Poor man still thinks he has to carry the world on his back... but he must really appreciate you, to speak of these things in your presence", she said quietly, eyes lowered as they slowly made way to their own rooms. She looked up and gazed at Lothíriel. The younger woman thought there was something sad in her friend's eyes.

"But in any case, I must ask for your discretion. Even if he chose to speak to us about it, I doubt he'd appreciate this conversation being known to others", she added in a low, solemn voice.

"Naturally. You needn't worry, Éowyn. I would never betray your trust – nor his, for that matter", Lothíriel said seriously. Something told her it was not a common occurrence to have these two last of the House of Eorl confiding in you. In some very strange way, whether it was due to her own merit or not, they trusted her. A young and silly girl could easily let that get into her head.

But Lothíriel wasn't going to be silly. She had a task here that was perhaps even more important than she had realised before now.

Her friend smiled.

"Thank you. For everything. For helping us and… for tonight. I think my brother and I both needed it", she said warmly and reached her arms to Lothíriel to give her a hug.

"Don't mention it", she said and returned Éowyn's hug. "I'm here for you."

Both of you – if need be.

To be continued.

A/N: Here is a new chapter for the new week! I hope you liked it. :)

I imagine both Lothíriel and Éomer are wondering and having a lot of questions about one another at the moment, but perhaps they'll learn to know each other little by little. I don't think this is a bad start for them, though!

Just for the record, when Éowyn says she should have taken a more active role, and that she was busy pitying herself, I don't mean to suggest I think that's what she did in Lord of the Rings. Obviously, she was battling depression and that's no laughing matter. But I do think she has a hard side to her, even if she has by now learnt to soften it a little bit. But she's still not soft to herself. Like Éomer, she too feels guilt over the events of the war. They both tend to forget that things were not under their control, and thus they blame themselves.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

QueenLiVII - It's been fun writing their friendship! And I'm glad you liked that little bit of interaction between Lothíriel and Éomer. :)

EStrunk - Yes, he has a lot to deal with right now, and Lothíriel is just starting to realise that.

I imagine that a culture where horses are so important might surprise you sometimes!

Bell - Indeed. And sometimes you just need to get it out, no matter who is listening. But we'll see how this will impact their relationship!

Tibblets - It can be very interesting, yes!

Nerdanel - Yes, poor man was having bit of a bad day! But thankfully Lothíriel is so empathic, she quickly sees where he's coming from.

Well, she is the daughter of a mighty lord, and seeing Éomer has not declared any intentions towards her, I imagine some local lords are going to try their luck! I think Lothíriel would later on feel pretty amused about it, too.

poser16 - It's developing, slowly and surely!

Also thank you! I hope you'll continue to enjoy the story!

Hobbitpony1 - I imagine there are a few such divas also in the royal stables of Meduseld! :D I'm glad you liked their conversation!

Cricket22 - Hopefully, I can keep you on the hook, then! :D

It's fun to write about mearas and their presence in Rohan's culture. Seeing the lifestyle of Rohirrim is so centered around them, I think horses like mearas would be deeply revered among them.

malfoy lea - Believe me, I'm working as fast as I can! But I am happy to provide a little bit of escapism, and I hope you will contnue to enjoy this story!

Golden Haired Ravenclaw - Thank you! :)

Chloe - Yes, he is indeed such a loyal man who feels everything deeply, including love. That is also why his guilt and grief are so raw. But sometimes I feel like Éomer doesn't get enough credit for how good and decent he is!

Jo - I imagine they are still eyeing her, even if she turned down the first proposal! We'll see how it goes with mearas. :)

Anon - Thank you very much! I am glad to hear it works so well!

Guest - And here you go!

Jeraly - Thanks! :)

sai19 - Well, this being a hobby of mine, the muse rarely sleeps very long! But I know what you mean - it's hard to imagine growing tired of this world and these characters!

Shetan20 - I'm glad you liked it! :)

TwilightCakes - Thank you!

Vair - I hope you continue to enjoy this tale! :)