Chapter 7

The day had been long and wearisome. The Marshal and his men had spent most of it horseback despite of the rain. However, they had not seen any orcs on their way, not even a footprint of one. It felt like a wild goose-chase and Éomer suspected what orcs there had been in the eastern parts had already passed back to their own land. However, he knew they couldn't just turn back, not when they had come all this way from Aldburg.

So the Marshal had decided they'd spent at least few more days patrolling, in case they did come across these orcs that had been ravaging the land. It was truly frustrating to know that this very moment, there could be a band of enemy's servants marauding the lands, and he might very well have enough men to take care of them for good. If only there was some way of seeing over the plains and through the hills and know where the riders were most needed! Éomer had sent some scouts and hoped they'd at least bring more light to the situation.

Wrapped in his cloak, he stared into the withering flames of the camp fire and his thoughts were once again returned to the matter of his wife. In all honesty, he had never realised just how deeply the knowledge of Elric would hurt her. Children born outside the wedlock weren't really that uncommon in the Mark and people rarely thought of them twice. Of course, such children did not have the same status as those born of marriage, but they weren't loved any less by their parents. Perhaps it was understandable that he hadn't expected his wife to react so strongly... but then, she came from a different culture. And not just that: she was a princess and likely had a very clear image of what marriage was supposed to be between people of their rank. Of course she'd be upset to learn he already had a son, and he had been an idiot to think she wouldn't mind.

He sighed and lowered his head, wondering to himself how he should ever fix this. If his earlier misgivings had not made her wish to call for her brothers, now she surely was thinking of it. And once her father learned... at the moment, Éomer wouldn't even have been too surprised if Prince Imrahil demanded to nullify the marriage and bring home his daughter.

"I swear, seeing you untroubled and smiling is about as common as seeing horses learn to fly", Éothain commented as he fell down to sit beside the Marshal. "I take it you're whipping yourself over your wife?"

"What else?" Éomer muttered darkly, not turning to look at his friend. "If I ever find a way to reconcile with her now, it'll be a wondrous thing."

Éothain sighed, feeding some wood to the fire.

"Well, there are only so many times one can say 'I told you so'. Did you apologise to her at least?" he asked.

"I did, but a simple 'I'm sorry' is not going to fix anything. Not to mention this call for help couldn't have come on more inconvenient time. I should be home and trying to make it up to her", said the Marshal quietly. "I don't want to hurt her, Éothain. But that is all I ever seem to do."

"Maybe she just needs time. After all, she has been forced to accept a lot of things in a very short span of time", Éothain said, wrapping his cloak tighter about himself. He glanced at the Marshal, "You'll have to deal with Dreda, though."

"I know", Éomer sighed and grimaced. That was certainly something he didn't look forwards to. "I never made promises to her and it was quite clear Uncle would not have allowed it, but... you know how she is."

"Aye. The woman thinks you belong to her, more or less", Éothain agreed. "That's going to become a problem, Éomer. She won't have the Princess where she thinks she should be herself if she can somehow help it."

"I should have made sure she understood my position before we left for Gondor. I tried to talk to her, but... it looks like she didn't really listen", said the younger man. Suddenly, he felt intensely uncomfortable, and wanted to jump on saddle and race back to Aldburg. Who'd look after his wife if not him? His captain apparently guessed his thoughts as the man reached to pat his shoulder.

"Scýne and Bierwén will take care of the Princess while you're gone. They know Dreda as well as we do", Éothain reassured him. "But you'd do well if you made your stance clear to her as soon as we go home. It's not only Dreda who needs to understand where you stand. And I should think you need to have a long talk with Elric, lest she turns the lad against your lady wife."

"You think she'd do that?" Éomer asked, feeling worried now. He hadn't even thought Dreda would do that. But then, it was easy to be blind to the misgivings of people one had affection for, and she had been his friend for a long time.

"Béma only knows what she would do. They say there's no fury like a woman scorned, and I tend to agree with that sentiment", said the captain. "Elric is a good lad, aye, but you need to tread carefully with him. He knows his place and that Lothíriel's children will always come before him, and that is a difficult thing to accept for anyone. It is important that he learns to love your other children once they come. Your son could be their biggest enemy or their most loyal friend."

"Hmm. You're right", Éomer agreed at length. He glanced at his captain from the corner of his eye, "When did you become so wise, my friend?"

"I always was, old fellow", Éothain said lightly. "It's not my fault you never noticed."

The Marshal snorted.

"As a matter of fact, I think it was your fault. Before Scýne came along, your wisdom was hiding in a barrel of ale along with your face", he commented dryly, but it only made Éothain laugh.

"I suppose that's not entirely untrue, my great and mighty Marshal", he said. He patted Éomer's arm. "Try to sleep. And try to think of what to tell your wife and your son. It's important that you do."

"That I will", said the Marshal quietly, already knowing that it was not sleep he'd have tonight.


The light of day grew in the chamber and also awakened Lothíriel. Her first thought was to pull the sheet over her face and drift back into dreams. For one reason or the other, she had spent half of the night tossing and turning, and only fallen asleep when the night had started to grow old.

But the mistress of the house could not waste her days by sleeping and she stretched and turned on her other side... the side that faced the part of the bed that was not occupied by a large golden-haired man.

It was just her sleepy mind, she told herself, that made her reach for the untouched pillow and the smooth sheet that felt cool to her touch. It felt actually kind of strange to not have her husband there, the way he had been each night since the day they had been wed. She had not expected his absence to feel so...

Lothíriel trembled and told herself it was simply because he hadn't been there to provide warmth: last night it had taken a long while to get warm under in the bed, although the bed appeared to have everything from sheets to blankets and soft furs. She had shivered there and felt so very alone that she had found herself hoping he might have been home and sleeping next to her. For one, she now realised the reason she had never got cold even during their journey was because of his body heat, and at least his presence meant she wouldn't have to be all alone in this strange chamber she had yet to get used to. And then there was that other way one could get warm...

She thought of the weight of his body, the way he seemed to know just where and how to touch her, how it felt like when he was inside her and the pressure grew, until her very being screamed for release... and his hot breath against her skin, the way he looked at her when he knew he had her, and all reservedness and boundaries were gone... her toes curled at the memory and there was a feeling of need, but then she blushed and hid her face in the pillow, as though she wasn't inside her head alone at all, but those passionate imaginations would be there for all to see on her features. What kind of thoughts were she having of him! But then, wasn't that only natural? The Marshal wasn't only her lord and husband, he was also her lover. After that night on the plains it was irrevocably true. And yet he was her lord too. It made no sense and it was frustrating, to have these emotions and share something so intimate with a man she barely knew. All of this was idiotic of her in any case, because she wasn't supposed to be daydreaming in such a way when she should still be angry at the insufferable man!

Daydreaming of a fierce horselord...

"Stop it", she told herself sharply. To rid herself of more such thoughts Lothíriel quickly got up and started to prepare for the day, wondering if Scýne could be persuaded to give her a tour of the town today. Yes, that would be good. Having something to think of would prevent this town from making her more mad than Rohan already had... or at least distract her from this obvious fall to insanity.


Lothíriel's first days in Aldburg were rather busy and she barely had time to stop and catch breath. Much of her time was consumed by getting to know her new home and the tricks of running the house. Though she did know how a large household such as her husband's was run (back in home with Aredhel she had got plenty of practice), many things were done differently here than back in Dol Amroth. There was also the matter of language barrier, and much of the conversations needed to be translated either by Scýne or Bierwén, who never left her side.

When she wasn't busy with the running matters or just generally familiarising herself with her new home, Lothíriel would join Eadmod for lessons in Rohirric. It seemed to be great entertainment for the old woman and she also had the patience and wisdom to make her a very good teacher. Indeed, the Marshal's grandmother appeared to have energy for unending lessons, and when she was instructing the princess, she would completely forget about the passage of time.

As the Marshal had promised, Elric did stay away from the princess, but sometimes she would catch the boy glancing at her with looks that somehow reminded her of longing. But then Dreda would appear by the boy's side and give the princess one of those venomous looks of hers, and Lothíriel would turn away. Really, she could understand disappointment, but this? She was fairly sure she didn't deserve such reaction, as it was not as though she had wanted to come between this woman and the Marshal. And there was also the fact that she'd gladly have exchanged places with Dreda. Then again, she didn't know if saying that would have made anything better. In fact, it might have just angered Dreda even more.

At least the people of Aldburg seemed moderately nice. When she went about in the Marshal's Hall and in the town, they'd give her smiles, bow their heads or even make clumsy curtsies. And some of the younger girls gave rather envious looks of longing at her dark hair; once, she let one of them touch it, and the girl would stroke it for a long while and sigh in yearning.

Some Rohirric nobility lived in Aldburg as well, and on the third day after her arrival to her new home Bierwén suggested perhaps she'd like to get to know the local ladies. Lothíriel decided that was a good idea, and so she invited the ladies of the town to meet her in the Marshal's Hall. The event was formal enough to take place in the feasting hall: she did not take her husband's seat (an elaborate piece of wood and carvings), but instead received her guests sitting on a smaller armchair, as was her right as the highest-ranking noblewoman in this part of the kingdom, and also as the Lady of Aldburg. Judging by the faces of some of the noble ladies she felt a bit like they were expecting to meet some fabled queen or something of the sort. They also brought gifts to her, which apparently was customary here when the Lord of Aldburg married. The gifts consisted of small jewellery, high quality wool and some finer fabrics, new pair of riding boots, and to keep her mind on the ground level she even received some clothing for small children. In the end, it wasn't so bad to get know the local ladies. They were just as welcoming as others had been so far, and they were endlessly curious about her old home by the sea. By the end of the day when the ladies were gone and the priness turned to Scýne to ask how the woman thought it had gone, the captain's wife smiled brightly and told her she could not have done better.

Lothíriel had thought it would be a relief to have the Marshal's chambers all to herself and sleep alone for a change, but not having him there remained something peculiar. No matter what difficulties they had between them, she had indeed started to grow used to his presence and the heat his warm body always provided even if she wasn't touching him. The sounds and smells of the unfamiliar house did not help her to fall asleep either, and she'd lay for a long time listening to the silence.

On the other hand, the time he was away provided her with time to think of what had happened. The more she pondered about it and observed the Rohirrim, the more she began to understand he had probably thought nothing of the matter of his son. Ever since, she had come across at least two riders and one woman who had all been born out of wedlock, and no one treated them different for it. They participated the chores among the others, talked and laughed and lived as one of the people of Aldburg.

It wasn't something that would have been lightly received in Gondor, and Lothíriel knew her father well enough to understand he'd have been very appalled to hear of this. As a matter of fact, she felt he might even have refused to give her hand in marriage had he heard of the Marshal's son. It was a curious clash of two cultures: the Rohirric representatives hadn't probably even thought that the bridegroom's illegitimate child could present any problems.

Then, on the fourth day after the Marshal had ridden out, one of the guards of the household approached the princess when she was in the middle of talking with Bierwén about some everyday matter.

"My lady, a messenger just arrived with a word from Prince Théodred. He is arriving to the town later today, before sunset he hopes", said the guard and bowed his head. At first Lothíriel felt confusion, but then she realised that as the mistress of the house, the duties of organising accommodations and receiving the prince fell on her shoulders. This wasn't how she'd have thought to be introduced to her husband's kin. Then again, the Prince probably thought the Marshal was in town and was riding to meet him.

"Does he ride with a large entourage?" she asked.

"Just two dozens men, my lady", answered the man, and she gestured for him to go.

She looked at Bierwén, "Does the Prince often come here?"

"Every now and then, yes. He and your husband are close as brothers", said the older woman. "Don't worry about meeting him, my lady. Prince Théodred is a good man, and more sociable than the Marshal."

"Hmm", was all Lothíriel answered to that. "Does he have chambers here? I suppose they should be readied for him. He'll probably want to bathe, and his men should be looked after too."

Bierwén smiled and nodded.

"Of course. Go and have that lesson with Eadmod – I'll take care of everything, and you can come and see for yourself later", she said and gently patted the princess' shoulder. "You're doing very well, my lady."

"I'm glad that someone thinks that", Lothíriel said quietly and hurried off before the chatelaine could say more.


Had she not known it beforehand, Lothíriel might not have guessed that Prince Théodred was actually a cousin to her husband. By now she was already expecting to see a fair-haired giant, and that on his features she'd see something to speak of the kinship between him and the Marshal. However, the man who arrived that evening to Aldburg did not meet her expectations at all. He wasn't as tall or strongly built as his cousin, and his looks were dark rather than light. But Lothíriel recognised the grey eyes and dark hair of her own people, and remembered that his grandmother had hailed from Lossarnarch. Though he looked like he had aged prematurely, he was a nice-looking man and his grey eyes were warm and kind, if a bit sad.

Eventually she noticed there was something about the Prince's lips and cheekbones that reminded her of the Marshal, and the way this man walked was not entirely unlike either, though her husband had a longer stride.

Prince Théodred arrived with his riders when the day was starting to fall into evening. They rode to the courtyard in that familiar orderly fashion she already recognised as a sign of fully trained Rohirric Rider. Théodred's armour bore similar devices she had seen on her husband's gear, and she briefly wondered if they were some sign of royal blood. But whereas her husband's armour was red-brown, Théodred's was dark green.

After the newly-arrived riders had dismounted and the Prince had made sure all was in order, he turned to approach the lady of the house.

Lothíriel was waiting for the royal guest along with Master Oferlof and Bierwén on the steps of the Hall. The Prince met their eyes, but then his gaze stopped at her. She wasn't sure of course, but it seemed to her that his eyes widened just slightly. She couldn't check because then he had reached them and nodded his head as a greeting.

"Welcome to Aldburg, my lord", said the princess and curtsied as a greeting. He answered it a bow that could be considered rather graceful for a man wearing heavy armour.

"Thank you, my lady. I take it I have the honour of addressing to Princess Lothíriel, my cousin's wife?" Théodred asked.

"That is right, my Prince", she answered. "I'm sorry to inform you that my lord husband is not in residence. He's out riding patrols and hunting some orcs sighted by the villagers. You're welcome to stay under our roof, however."

"That I'd do gladly, and anyway I should like to get to know my cousin's wife and the newest addition to our House", said the Prince, offering her a pleasant smile. "And perhaps the Marshal might return soon. Would it be fine by you if I stayed here for a day or two?"

"Of course. Family and kin are always welcome here", Lothíriel said and answered his smile the best she could. "If my lord wants to bathe after your journey, water should be ready for you, and there is supper as well for you and your men."

"I'd appreciate that, my lady", he answered and bowed at her again.

Half an hour later, the Prince was sat at the dais and his men occupied the tables where the Marshal's men usually sat. After a bath, Théodred's long hair hung wet on his shoulders and he had rid himself of his armour; she briefly made the observation he paid more attention to his clothing than her husband did. As the lady of the house, Lothíriel served the royal guest as he dined. Apparently that was the custom here in Rohan. In Gondor, it would have been unheard of for a Princess of a great house to serve anyone... which meant she had no training for this at all. Bierwén had said it was a great honour when Lothíriel had wondered out loud if there were no servants in the house. Maybe she'd one day even understand what the chatelaine had meant by that.

Be it as may, she was not the most agile or skilled in pouring the ale and offering the servings to the Prince, but he never commented on her skills. Rather, he'd give her warm smiles and thanks for her service. At least he was kind enough not to pursue any conversation while she was concentrated on not spilling food and drink all over him.

When the Prince had eaten, he pushed his plate away and took a long sip from his mug of ale.

"Please, sit down with me for a while, my lady. I'd like to hear how you are settling down here in Aldburg", he said, and Lothíriel sat down beside him as the servants came to clear away the dishes.

"I... I'm settling down, yes. I'm still trying to get used to everything, my lord", she said carefully. Bierwén had said the Prince was like a brother to the Marshal, and she didn't want the man spilling to his cousin any stories of how unhappy she was.

"It must have been quite a change, Princess. I have to say you're very brave for daring to travel all the way from your home in south and come to live here with a man you haven't even met before", Théodred noted, watching her intently.

"Brave", she repeated, the words blurting out before she could think of them, "or just stupid."

That made the Prince smile slightly.

"It's rather funny how often the two are one and same thing", he commented dryly. Lothíriel looked away and suddenly wanted to kick herself. Hadn't she just decided not to make this man think she was anything else than content?

He studied her quietly for a while, idly fingering the foot of his mug.

"I hope people here have at least received you well, my lady?" he asked then.

"Everyone has been very friendly, my Prince", she said somewhat monotonously. She fought for a livelier tone, and even succeeded in summoning it: "Lady Bierwén has been very helpful in showing me how things are done here. Without her and Lady Scýne I'd probably be lost."

"Good. I'm glad to hear they have taken you under their wing, and anyway I would expect nothing less of those two", Théodred said. "How do you find my cousin? Granted, he's a warrior to his very fingertips, but hopefully not too coarse for a well-bred princess."

"We get along perfectly well", Lothíriel answered, her voice turning reserved at his words. The Prince tilted his face and searched her face thoughtfully, almost making her feel like he was reading her mind.

"Hmm. I'm sure the political reasons for bringing you here as a bride were valid, but I still wonder if it still was such a good idea after all", he said quietly, leaning his cheek on his hand.

"My lord, I can handle myself", she said, sharper than she had intended, and it also made him lift up a calming hand.

"I don't doubt that, Princess. Though we have only just met, my heart tells me that if anyone can weather here, it is you", Théodred said softly. "But it's not going to be easy or painless, I fear."

Unsure of what to say, Lothíriel looked away.

"Don't worry for me, my lord. We Gondorians are made of stronger stuff than the Rohirrim even realise", she said and lifted her chin.

"I can see that, my lady", Théodred said and a strange little smile graced his lips. He bowed his head to her, "I'd like to converse longer, but I believe I must go and speak with Lady Eadmod. My cousin Éowyn sent some words for her, and I don't want to keep her waiting. My cousin's grandmother is quite fond of Lady Éowyn."

"Of course, my lord", Lothíriel said and stood up. "If there is anything you need, just let one of the servants know. I am at your service."

The Prince nodded, got up on his feet, and went along his way. Pensively, she looked after him. There went the man she'd have married had the original plan gone through... and she had no idea if the eventual developments were for better or worse.


Prince Théodred was not a bothersome guest at all. Some visitors required company and entertainment all their waking hours, but the King's son seemed content in his own devices. After breakfast on the next day, he went for a lengthy ride and had a stroll in the town's markets. Later Lothíriel also heard he had engaged the Marshal's son for a sparring session... which was something to make the boy beam blissfully for the rest of the day, as was evidenced by his expression on the supper that evening. Though she tried to pay as little attention to the boy as she could, her husband's son was not easily ignored.

As the royal guest seemed to be happy to entertain himself, Lothíriel barely saw him that day as her own time was mostly spent with Bierwén and Scýne in the many tasks of running the household. She had sat with him for a while last night before retiring to bed, and he had been eager to hear of her home land and of her family. In turn, Théodred had spoken of his father and cousin Éowyn, and of life in Rohan. The Crown Prince himself mostly resided in Hornburg, a fabled fortress she had heard of too, from where he guarded the western lands of the realm. It had been a fascinating talk, but also something to fill her with doubt. With Théodred, Lothíriel found herself connecting in a way she hadn't so far done with her husband. Though the Prince certainly was much older than her, she barely remembered the age gap when she spoke with the man. Had her father made the wrong choice when he had agreed to give her hand in marriage to the Marshal instead of the Prince?

However, now was too late for regret, and so Lothíriel did her best to push those thoughts away from her mind. The last thing she needed was a multitude of what ifs driving her to the point of insanity. As such, it was probably a good thing that she was preoccupied with other things than the Prince.

That night was warm, just as the day had been – well, as warm as it got on these windy plains. But for the evening, the wind had settled and there was a feeling in the air that spoke of summer. As soon as she had seen that everything was running smoothly and the Prince was sufficiently entertained by conversing with Oferlof, Lothíriel ventured out to enjoy a moment of solitude and silence. The sun had already set and the moon was riding high, covering the green plains in silver. From the steps of the Marshal's Hall, one could watch the lands expand to every direction. It was a foreign view to someone who had grown up by the sea, but she had to agree it was beautiful.

Watching the plains of the Mark, her mind eventually wandered off and she thought of the man who was somewhere out there, riding after orcs. Eadmod had told her not to worry about the Marshal when he rode out; apparently he was considered one of the finest warriors in all of Rohan and well-experienced in the arts of war. But then, his own father had ridden to battle and returned on his shield, though he had been a great warrior as well. And the Marshal was just one man among many, not any more immortal than others. He could very well be dead already for all she knew.

Wouldn't that have meant her freedom, then? She could have returned home, a widow at eighteen... Thinking of her husband, she understood she did not want him dead. He might very well be a silent, ungentle man, but she didn't think he was a bad one. People didn't talk of bad men with the esteem she had heard in the voices of his people here in Aldburg. Moreover, bad men did not defend their children the way he did. Even if he wasn't what a young lady of Gondor might have wanted in her husband, it wasn't like she had much choice about it now... and perhaps Aredhel and Fainien had been right to say that things like affection would come in time. The princess just didn't have any idea of how immediate that future might be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by quiet steps and Prince Théodred came to stand beside her. Up close, it was easy to see how much more aged he looked when compared to his energetic cousin. Even in the light of torches, she could see the first touch of grey on his temples and the tired look in his eyes that would appear there every now and then.

"Is everything fine, my lady?" he asked, and she felt his gaze on her. "Do not worry for your husband. He's a fine warrior, and known for smarting out battles that would have claimed the lives of lesser men."

"I know", she answered, "I have all faith in his skills as a warrior... especially after he saved my life."

"Yes, I heard of the orcs you encountered on your way from Gondor", he said, turning to watch the plains as well. He asked: "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is, my lord", Lothíriel answered quietly, staring off to distance.

"But it's not the sea", he mused, half to himself. "I suppose one doesn't need to ask you miss your home."

Not trusting her voice, the princess nodded mutely. After a moment of silence, she spoke: "The worst thing is I don't know when I get to go there the next time – or see my family."

She wrapped her arms about herself and sighed deep as she thought of the faces of her father, her brothers and her sisters-in-law. Did they miss her like she missed them?

Lothíriel was brought back from her thoughts when the Prince gently placed his cloak about her shoulders.

"Like I said, my lady. You are brave", Théodred said softly. She glanced at him and saw a strange look on his face. He said, "and Rohan would have been fortunate to have such a queen."

Eyes wide, she turned and stared at him. Was he saying what she thought he was? At least the look on Théodred face seemed to imply so, as there was something like yearning there. Then, ever so gently, he brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek.

"My cousin is a lucky man", said the Prince quietly. "I hope he understands that, and treasures you accordingly."

Before he could do or say more, Lothíriel ran back inside, and hoped to the Valar that her husband might come home soon.


A word of Lord Éomer's return was brought to Lothíriel next afternoon as she was sitting with Eadmod and doing some needlework while she listened to the old woman's stories. It appeared that her husband's grandmother had an endless stock of Rohirric tales of heroes and heroines of old and she was happy to share them with anyone who might listen. When the servant who had informed them of the Marshal's return had left, Eadmod settled back in her chair and smiled gently.

"Go and see to your husband. I'm sure he's anxious to see you", said the old lady. She was a steady believer that everything would turn out well and that her grandson was a good husband, and Lothíriel did not really have a heart to suggest otherwise. Though she felt that she could trust Eadmod, there were still some things she'd rather not speak of with this woman. Not least of those things was the matter of her husband's cousin.

No one must know.

"Will you be fine by yourself?" she asked nevertheless, but Eadmod waved her spotted hand nonchalantly.

"Of course, of course. Go ahead, my dear", she urged, and after giving a kiss to the old woman's forehead, Lothíriel hurried along. As soon as she had made sure that the healers were ready in case their help was needed, hot meal for the riders was already being prepared, and water was being prepared in case her husband wanted to bathe, she went to receive him. Scýne came along, doubtlessly anxious to see her own spouse, and Prince Théodred came as well. From her spot on the steps leading inside, Lothíriel noticed Dreda was there too, and the Marshal's son by the woman's side. Dreda's expression was just as sour as it always seemed to be these days, but the boy looked hopeful and anxious.

Then the Marshal rode to courtyard along with his men and the space was filled with the noises of men and horses. Only one of the horses was without rider: the patrol had not been without a price. Otherwise the riders seemed unscathed and she thought she heard a small sob of relief from Scýne at the sight of Captain Éothain.

After dismounting and surrendering his stallion to a stablehand, Lord Éomer strode towards the house. As soon as he came to the steps, he sought his wife's eyes; she couldn't read the look in his dark eyes, but she met them nonetheless.

"My lady", he said quietly, carefully picking up one of her hands, which gesture he did not seem to think of at all. "I trust everything is well in Aldburg?"

His tone was awkward, as if he was trying hard to come up with something to say.

"All is fine. Is my lord husband in good health? Are the healers needed?" she asked. He placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, holding her hand with a look on his face that suddenly made her think he was fearing he'd break her.

"No, my lady", he answered. Then the Marshal noticed the Prince and something like a smile appeared on his face. He approached the older Rohir and placed a hand on Théodred's shoulder as a greeting. When they were so before each other, the contrast between the two was even more striking. Where one was fair the other was dark, and the Prince had to be at least half a head shorter than the Marshal.

"Cousin! I did not know you were coming here. My apologies for being away. I hope my wife has attended to you while I was gone?" asked Lord Éomer, his voice showing colour she didn't remember hearing often before.

"Oh, Lady Lothíriel has been most hospitable. It feels almost like I've been in my own house", Théodred said and answered the taller man's smile with one of his own.

"That is good to hear, cousin. Now, would you mind it much if I excused myself for a bit so that I can get rid of my armour?" asked the Marshal.

"Go ahead, Éomer. I can handle myself for as long as it takes", said his cousin. The golden-haired man smiled at that and turned to look at his men. After he had given them orders in Rohirric, the riders went about their ways, probably to enjoy some well-deserved food and rest after the patrol. Then he looked at his wife.

"May I ask you to accompany me, my lady?" he inquired in a low voice.

"Of course", Lothíriel answered, her head bowed. Quietly, she followed her husband to their chambers; a bath was ready and waiting for him. As soon as he halted by the stand meant for his armour, she began to work over the buckles that held the guarding plates on his arms and shoulders. He readily lifted his arms, which made her think he had hoped for her help in the first place. Why didn't you say so then, Lothíriel thought to herself and sighed as she lifted the shoulder guard from its place. She had to tiptoe in order to be able to do that.

"Is something amiss, my lady?" he asked then. Apparently he had sensed her mood right away.

"Nothing at all, lord husband", she answered, though she didn't meet his eyes. She felt his gaze on her but continued working over the plates. Where did all these buckles come from?

It wasn't true, that nothing was amiss. And if it was true what Fainien had said about the Rohirrim – that they could smell a lie from a league away – he was probably wondering right now what was bothering her.

"You didn't tell me about your son", she stated at last. Well, it was bothering her still, even now.

"I apologised to you already, my lady. Are you still cross about that?" he muttered, and she could tell he was not too eager to have this conversation. But oh, they would so have it now.

"And you think an apology just magically makes it all better?" she asked, her attempts to rid him of the chest plate almost turning violent. "Really, lord husband, just who did you think you were marrying? A cave troll? And what even is that woman who keeps giving me looks like I did something nasty, like... like I drowned her puppy?! I suppose it didn't occur to you either that you should warn me about her!"

"I'll deal with Dreda, my lady. Don't bother yourself with her", he said and winced.

"One must wonder why you did not deal with her before you brought me here!" she snapped and practically threw the chest plate at its place on the stand.

"I did! I simply had no idea she'd be this bad!" Éomer groaned, his face twisting now into what looked like a permanent grimace.

"Some lovers you were, if you didn't even know how she'd react! And I suppose now she's busy muttering into the ear of that son of yours, until some day he snaps and does something like throttles our children!" Lothíriel exclaimed, her voice practically a screech now.

"Don't speak of Elric like that!" he said hotly, equally furious now. "My son is not some monster who murders innocent children!"

"How would I know?! You never tell me anything! You barely even speak to me!" she shot back.

"Then do tell me, wife, how does one speak to you when every time one opens their mouth in your vicinity you look like you might grab one's tongue and cut it off!" he growled.

"I just might, my dearest husband! Maybe I don't want to hear you at all!" she yelled.

"Oh, that can be very well arranged, darling! I did not want this, and I did not want a wife who can't smile to save her life, and who only ever cowers and frowns at the sight of me!" said her husband, dark eyes blazing with anger.

"So you're the poor little victim here? You arrogant oaf!" Lothíriel screamed and threw a pillow at him. "Have you ever stopped to even consider how hard this might be for me? I was the one who was forced to leave behind my home and family! I was the one who had to forsake everything I've known and held dear! And it was me who had to come live in the middle of strangers and with a so called husband who can't spare me one kind and comforting word!"

Furiously, she threw another pillow at him, but he dodged it as he had before. Then she moved over to her book by the bedside, and her hairbrush, her soap... she might have thrown even more things at him had he not grabbed at her wrists then.

"Would you please stop throwing things at me, or do you perhaps think burying me in them will fix everything?" Éomer growled. Lothíriel tried to struggle against his grip, but his large hands were too strong. She even tried to butt her forehead against his face, but he evaded and she hit his mail-covered shoulder instead.

"At least it's going to make me feel better!" she snapped back, which made him groan.

"Oh, would you just shut up already?" he asked, fury turning into frustration now. And as soon as those words were out of his mouth, he kissed her.

It turned out to be something between a bite and a kiss, but he didn't seem to mind. He pushed her back and drove her against the wall; all of a sudden, it was hard to concentrate on the whole being angry thing. And somehow, her bite turned into a kiss then, but it wasn't any less violent or passionate. Only, her fury seemed to fuel something equally hot inside her...

But it was tremendously uncomfortable with his chain-mail on the way, which he quickly realised too. The battle turned against that garment now and she cut couple of her fingers in her desperation to get rid of the annoying piece of armour. Fortunately her husband helped with that and soon it dropped on the floor along with the leaf-mail.

"What bloody idiot told you to wear so damn much?" she growled as she moved her assaults to his belt then, and she didn't even care how horrifyingly improper such manner of speaking it was, especially when directed at her lord and husband.

"I'll just go to next battle naked, then", he informed her. The idea itself was entertaining but there were other matters more pressing, such as the fact that he had grabbed her from under her knees and she took support from his shoulders, and without delay he carried her to the bed. There was urgency about it, the kisses and the way he tugged their clothes from way.

And then, as soon as he had pulled back his breeches, he pushed, and she received him with a moan, clinging to his shoulders and locking her legs about him. Oh, yes. He might be an annoying scoundrel but he was good at this.

"... you... damned... little... vixen", he breathed and thrust again and again, but she couldn't think properly anymore in order to answer, and so she just moaned incoherently and kissed him to shut him up.

Some time later, when Lothíriel started to come back to her senses, she started to think that they were probably making the Crown Prince wait. As exhausted and pleasantly languid she felt, Théodred needed to be attended to. She turned to look at her husband, who had rolled over to her side to lay on his back. Idly she thought she had been right to think he could be terrifying when he wanted... but then, she hadn't been terrified of him. And he was certainly not scary right now, what with that peaceful look on his face.

"My lord. Your cousin is probably waiting for you", she said. Should she have been angry still? Somehow summoning the proper emotional force did not seem possible or even appealing at the moment.

"Aye", he mumbled in agreement and got up. As soon as he was on his feet, he began to undress. Once he was naked he headed for the tub, though the bath water couldn't really have been hot anymore. Nevertheless, he stepped into it and quickly started to wash himself.

As for the princess, she lay still on the bed, not feeling like she was able to move quite yet. After a moment, her husband looked at her.

"Are you still angry with me, my lady?" he asked warily.

"Now I'm just resting, lord husband. But you can trust we'll talk about this later", she answered and sat up. Getting herself up and moving required some strength of character, and as soon as she was on her feet, she fetched her undergarments. He had tossed them away in his impatience, but at least he made no comments when she put them back on. Then she gathered the things she had thrown at him, all the while quietly wondering to herself if their little confrontation had been heard outside. The likely answer was yes.

"Do we really have to fight, my Princess?" he asked quietly, watching as she dug through his chest of clothes and found something clean for him to put on. At his question, she halted and stared down at the weathered, much-used garments.

"You dress in rags, lord husband. I should perhaps make you some new shirts, and I'll have to see if we have any fabric for coats and breeches", Lothíriel mumbled as an answer. "Or visit the markets to see if there's something nice. Green, I assume?"

"Wife..." he started but fell silent again. Glancing from the corner of her eye, she saw he had stopped washing and was staring at her instead.

"Hurry up, my lord. Gaping at me isn't going to get you clean any sooner, and you've already kept the Prince waiting long enough", she told him, not even stopping to acknowledge that she had very eagerly contributed in the matter of making the King's son wait. The princess was about to turn and exit the chamber, if only to inform Théodred it'd take a while longer.

But then the Marshal spoke: "Lady Lothíriel."

She wasn't sure if she had ever heard him utter her name. Now at the sound of her name on his lips, she froze and looked at him.

"Yes, my lord?" she asked quietly.

"I..." he started, his brow knitting as he looked at her. His lips formed the words he couldn't speak, until finally, "I see you've brought here flowers."

Somehow, she felt both relieved and disappointed at the same time, though she had no idea of what it might be he had meant to say. Surely it couldn't be about the flowers she had put on the table.

"I didn't think it would bother you. Should I take them away?" she asked.

She might have imagined it, but for the shortest moment she thought there was a smile on his face.

"No. I rather like it... déor min."

When Lothíriel left their bedchamber, it was with intense confusion, and a question burning her mind. Was it just a misunderstanding due to her very basic Rohirric, or had her husband just called her "my dear"?


A/N: And the plot thickens. This was yet another of those chapters that seemed to practically write itself, and I must say I very much enjoyed every moment of it! Who knew our Princess could be turned on by throwing things?

Just to make clear, though Elric is Éomer's firstborn, he doesn't have the same rights as legitimate children born of marriage. Like Scýne said in the last chapter, he can only have what his father provides him with and what he wins with his sword. Elric probably knows this already but I doubt he really understands what it means. Well, he's a young boy still. I don't know if Tolkien ever wrote of Rohirric traditions considering marriage and children (probably not), so this is just my own interpretation. Though I've chosen to go along the line that the Rohirrim don't mind illegitimate children per say, they're still concerned with ensuring the status of the legitimate children - especially when it comes to high-born nobility such as Éomer. He's a member of the royal house so stricter rules apply in his case.

Thanks for your comments, my dear readers! Even if I don't always answer, all your reviews are read and much appreciated!


SymphonicPoem - As Lothíriel notes in this chapter, it's something that would probably bother Imrahil. I suppose it's a classic case of lack of communication and understanding between two cultures. It'd be a big deal for her father, but the Rohirrim don't necessarily even realise it might be a problem.

Anonymous - From the Gondorian point of view, that might be an issue, yes. But I don't think it's for the people of Rohan. Like I said, Elric doesn't really count as the firstborn or at least he's not treated as such - that right will go to Éomer and Lothíriel's first son.

1607hannah - Quite so, yes. Though Tokien seems - to me, at least - be supportive of people marrying just once and having no other affairs outside the marriage. Personally, I think Éomer is someone who strictly follows his duties and his idea of honour. So I'd think he'd also be faithful to his wife. Even if he had no personal inclination to do that, she's still a princess and her family would probably consider it an insult if he was found guilty of adultery.

Recovering4Life - And here you have the proper throwing things session! :D Hope you liked it.