Near Misses

Chapter 9

The morning of their jaunt to Emyn Arnen dawned bright and sunny, though the air was still cool. A light fog rimmed the Anduin and spread inland over some of the Pelennor, as they prepared their horses and then made their way down through the quiet city streets. Whether due to the early hour or the pristine morning, conversation was limited initially by unspoken agreement, and only the jingle of harness and creak of leather tainted the air. As the sun rose higher, the fog began to burn off and with it the quiet of the companions.

The road to Osgiliath was a main thoroughfare, so they could ride three across. Faramir was flanked by Erchirion and his guard, while Amrothos and Eomer rode behind them alongside Lothiriel. As Faramir had brought an escort of guards, Eomer only included Eothain in the party, and he rode toward the back, talking amicably with men he knew from the war.

Whether by design or accident, Amrothos had managed to situate himself between Eomer and Lothiriel, and so Eomer felt limited in what conversation he might pursue. Even so, it was pleasant company, and with careful questions he could elicit tidbits about Lothiriel, her life and likes. Amrothos had a penchant for telling rather embarrassing stories about his sister, causing her to blush madly and chastize him vehemently.

After a few of these, Eomer thought it incumbent upon him to come to the lady's rescue. Leaning forward slightly to meet her gaze in front of her brother, he asked, "Amrothos has had his fun, but I know him too well to think there are no similar stories to be told of him. Shall you share them with me?"

A wicked grin spread over her face as Amrothos suddenly looked slightly nervous. Dispensing such teasing was far more agreeable than suffering it in turn. "Now, now – you cannot give credence to my sister's lies about me, Eomer. She exaggerates, I assure you!"

If he thought to deflect embarrassment, he was mistaken. Eomer raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "Indeed? In my brief time of knowing her she has seemed perfectly honest and forthright, while I would be more disbelieving of your innocence than your guilt!"

Amrothos attempted his best affronted expression, but it only caused his companions to laugh as Lothiriel announced, "Perhaps I should tell you of the time that he sank Father's favorite sloop, Eomer. Dear, demure and innocent Amrothos was playing corsair and managed to set it afire. There was little left but floating ash as the hulk sank out of sight, and Amrothos was not allowed outside the castle for a week! He was made to read every single book of Sindarin poetry in Father's library, and report on it. It was the most excruciating punishment Father could dream up for an active boy. I believe it worked, though, as Amrothos never set fire to any more boats!"

Amrothos glared at her. "It was an accident!" he hissed. "I did not notice the candle fall among the rags when I left the boat. Normally I am very careful."

He tried to look haughty, but Lothiriel only grinned more broadly, "Well, you are now!"

Eomer laughed heartily, thinking it had been a very long time since he had been so amused. This visit for the birth of Eowyn's child had been of much greater benefit to him than he could have dreamed. It was good to share the company of close friends and not have to take care with every word he spoke.

The time passed quickly in reaching Osgiliath with such easy conversation to be had. Occasionally, someone would drop back from the front group or move forward from their pairing so that their discussions were varied and interesting. Eomer had not crossed the Anduin since the Army of the West had returned victorious from defeating Sauron. Even more reinforcement and improvement had been taking place and the bridge was far more established now. Using a pulley system, they had fixed a portion of the bridge that could be raised when needed for ships to pass, then lowered back for foot traffic with Ithilien.

When they had passed this way before, it was to ride along the road to the Crossroads and then into Mordor. This time, not long after they returned to land from the bridge, they turned aside, following a lesser trail south to the Emyn Arnen hills. This trail was not so broad and they had to fall into a single line, only occasionally able to ride two abreast.

There had not been many trees on the Pelennor or surrounding Osgiliath, as most had been decimated during the War. But in Ithilien they grew thick and the trail quickly led them under a freshly greening canopy. Spring was eagerly trying to make its presence known here, and most of the flowering bushes had many buds ready to burst open as the days continued to warm. It had been a while since Eomer had enjoyed the sound of birds and forest animals, though admittedly their large party both masked the sound and caused the denizens of the wood to quiet during their passage. After a short way, the trail led them to a shallow crossing of what Faramir named as the Morgulduin waterway, and then their route began to rise into the hills.

From the times when the sun was not hidden by the overhanging trees, Eomer could tell that they were angling back toward the west as they pressed south. When at last they crested a large hill, they found the Anduin crawling steadily past, a gleaming ribbon of silver in the sun. They took a break to rest the horses from the climb and to enjoy the view for a time, but then continued on. It was only another couple of leagues until they reached Faramir's home.

He had explained, in snatches, that his family had long owned property in this land, but with the rise of Mordor, it had become increasingly unsafe to dwell there. The buildings stood empty for months, or even years in some cases, and so were in great disrepair once the Gondorians returned. Faramir had decided that most of the former residence of his family was not what he wished for his bride, so renovations and rebuilding had been extensive. Only this past autumn had they been close to finished, and Eowyn managed a ride to see it once before she could not make the journey comfortably.

With the better spring weather, work had continued apace and Faramir expected to be able to move in the furnishings during the next month or so.

Eomer's first interest, even more than the house, was the stables, and while most everyone else headed there upon dismounting, he led Firefoot to the outerlying building instead. Eothain came with him, equally curious, and the two men examined it approvingly. The stalls had been built more to the Rohirric style, large and airy. Both had considered the stables at Minas Tirith rather cramped space for their horses, but had acknowledged that possibly the limited space available contributed to the need for something less expansive.

"So this is where you disappeared," Erchirion called from the doorway. "I might have known."

Eomer chuckled and gave a shrug. "You were a fool not to expect it." He turned to pull Firefoot's saddle and bridle and loose him into one of the stalls, fastening the gate behind him. "Most any building with a roof that does not leak will suffice as a home, but the Eorlingas are far more choosy about the accommodations for their horses!"

"So I see!" Erchirion laughed, following Eomer's example with his own horse, as did Eothain.

Together the three men exited to continue on to the house, but paused on the broad lawn. Set on the highest point of land, there was a superb vista of the Anduin, and even Minas Tirith could be seen gleaming on the other shore. "Impressive," Eothain murmured. "Eowyn will appreciate this view, I am sure."

"Aye, she will," Eomer acknowledged. "She suffers the cold stone of Mundburg, but it is not her first choice. Only her love of Faramir could entice her to live in such a place."

"From what Faramir was saying on the ride here, they will make this their main home. As they are Prince and Princess of Ithilien, they cannot spend all their time in the White City. Faramir will, of course, have to go there often to conduct business of the Steward, but Eowyn may remain here as much as she chooses," Erchirion advised them.

Eomer chuckled. "You do not know my sister very well, obviously! She will not readily be parted from the man she loves for long periods of time. If he is to be gone more than a week, I think she will likely accompany him whenever possible. Still, now that there is a child, she may not wish to travel so much, especially as more children follow."

"They are fortunate," Erchirion replied, earning a curious look from Eomer. Noticing it, he explained, "Not all of Gondor's nobility weds for love, my friend. My parents did, and I always hoped to emulate that, but feared it never happening. It is good to be reminded that it is possible, and now that I have met…" He stopped suddenly, flushing red at the admission he had nearly made. "Well, there is someone who might be what I am seeking. That is all I will say for now."

The other two grinned at him, but refrained from teasing, and they turned to enter the open front door of the house. The rest of their party were gathered in what would become the dining room, around a large work table that had been cleared so as to lay out their midday meal. They had forgone stopping to eat along the way in order to reach their destination quickly, but now all were ready for food.

There were a few crates and barrels around, but not enough for everyone, so most got food and then settled on the floor to eat. They were hungry enough that conversation lapsed until they were finished, but once all had eaten their fill, they were ready for the tour of the house.

Faramir was in his element telling them of all that had been done and that was still to come. He had put great effort into making the house a part of the landscape, so that it almost blended into its surroundings. There was more wood than stone used to give a warmer feel to the place, and the rooms were large with many windows to let in the sunshine and afford ample views of the countryside.

As expected, the rooms on the ground floor were the functional ones for dining, greeting guests and working. The upper floor was for the family and guests who stayed overnight. When they finished seeing the house, they were led out to the back where already fruit trees had been planted to rim the garden area that was as yet untouched. Eomer and Imrahil's sons wandered off, exploring the area, and leaving Lothiriel with Faramir.

"This will make a splendid garden," Lothiriel acknowledged. "I know Eowyn is eager to have a large herb garden for medicinal purposes, in addition to vegetables and flowers. When she is ready, I will come and help her plant it, if she wishes."

"That is most generous of you," Faramir replied, smiling. "If you are not too busy in your own right."

"Why should I be too busy?" she asked. "I will make time for it."

As she stooped to examine the quality of the soil, she did not notice Faramir flick a glance in Eomer's direction. None had missed the clear attraction between the pair, and rejoiced in it. It was not at all certain that Lothiriel would not soon be a bride and living far away in the northern lands. Noncommittally, he merely answered, "Your aid is much in demand from many, but I do not doubt the sincerity of your offer. I am sure Eowyn will be pleased to hear of it."

She gave him a curious look at the cryptic response, but let it pass as she strolled the perimeter of the garden. Noticing that Faramir was coming to join them, thus leaving Lothiriel alone, Eomer went to accompany her. He silently fell in at her side for several strides before inquiring, "What think you of their home?"

"It is magnificent; I could be quite envious of Eowyn. I cannot doubt that she will be very happy here with Faramir, raising their children in peace. I have offered to help put in the garden."

Eomer nodded. "You are good at gardening, then?"

"I enjoy it, though I do not know that I have any particular skill beyond the ordinary. But I do like seeing things green and growing, both for their beauty and their use when harvested," Lothiriel admitted. "At Dol Amroth, I oversee the castle garden, and find it makes a peaceful refuge."

"It is indeed peaceful there. I spent some time enjoying it when I visited last year. I…could wish for you to come to Edoras," Eomer remarked slowly. "My grandmother, Morwen, put in a large garden behind Meduseld, but after she left the Mark and Queen Elfhild passed on, it fell into decline. I played there as a child, before it was so far gone, but now it is overtaken with weeds and not at all pleasing. I would hope to one day see it restored."

He wasn't sure why he had made such a broad hint at the hoped for shared future between them, but perhaps it might encourage some indication from her as to whether she also was inclined in that direction. As it turned out, though, her brothers and cousin rejoined them just then, curtailing any response she might have made. It left Eomer greatly frustrated. If they were so eager for a union between him and Lothiriel, why were they so quick to interrupt all the time?

It would be a long journey back to the White City, taking the entire afternoon, so Faramir suggested they set out now and all agreed. The horses were quickly saddled and their belongings collected, but most paused to take one last look at Minas Tirith in the distance. Down through the trees, Eomer could just make out the Harlond across the river, and he asked curiously, "If you are to make this your home, would it not make sense to have a ferry cross the river at the Harlond and ride up from the river? I would think that a shorter way than traveling through Osgiliath." He pointed down toward the eastern shore at a likely spot.

Faramir nodded. "Yes, I had thought of that also. Now that I will need to be both places, and move quickly between them, I am hoping to do just that. I can situate stables at the ferry crossing on this side to keep a couple of horses on hand, and we can improve the trail that leads into the hills from the river so as to make it more readily passable. I would expect it to considerably shorten the travel time."

"Would not a ferry interfere with boats on the river?" Eothain asked. "I know some travel farther north to reach Cair Andros. And the current is strong, so it would be difficult at best, I would think."

"You are correct," Erchirion acknowledged. "But likely the ferry would be situated north of the main port, where it would not be in the way of most shipping. As to the strong current, a tow chain could be stretched across for easier passage, and then be allowed to sink low enough to not snag on the boats passing by. There are such ferries to the south on the way to Dol Amroth, also. Most notably at the large port of Pelargir."

After a moment, while everyone considered the view in light of this news, no one spoke, but then Faramir raised his hand and signaled his guard on as he led the party back the way they had come. As on the outbound journey, they tended to align in pairs or threes for conversation once the road permitted.

Lothiriel had allowed her horse to drop toward the rear of their group, and Eomer gently checked Firefoot so that he gradually fell in beside her. He had noticed her fidgeting earlier, but it was more pronounced now, and he softly inquired, "Lothiriel, are you unwell?"

She looked at him, startled by the question, and then her cheeks pinked and she glanced away. After a moment, she replied, "Not unwell, no. I am...uncomfortable." Biting her lip, she looked guiltily at him and added, "It is rather an embarrassing situation to mention to a horselord."

At his puzzled expression, she elaborated with a sigh, "I am...sore. Though I do ride, it is not so often nor so long as we have done today, and I fear I was overly ambitious in joining this outing. I shall find it difficult to move for the next several days." She shrugged as if in apology as his face flooded with understanding.

"I am sorry," he said sincerely. "Unfortunately, there is little I may do beyond offer sympathy. I know of no cure save the passage of time."

She chuckled softly. "True. And, as you say, unfortunate. Still, I am glad I came and got to see their home, and it has been a most pleasant journey with the very best company. I cannot regret participating, despite the outcome."

"I am glad," he answered with a smile. "I should not have found it nearly so enjoyable had you chosen not to join us."

Her cheeks pinked again, but there was no denying the pleasure in her eyes at his remark. If anyone was aware of them separating themselves from the rest of the group, no one was making any effort to correct the situation. Not surprising, Eomer supposed, given how ardently they had been encouraging the match. At least they finally seemed to realize the couple needed to have some private conversation if they were to make any progress. Even so, this was hardly a setting for getting well acquainted with a lady. Likely he had learned more of her views on life and politics, and even of him, through their few times together previously than he was apt to do in this particular moment.

Despite that, it was pleasing to ride alongside her, talking quietly of whatever came to mind to either of them. Somehow, with her, he felt no need to make idle conversation. They both knew it was a fine day. They both knew where the other was from and had even heard stories of the other's life. What did she think of the situation in Gondor and Rohan? He already knew she approved of the king and queen by seeing them together. He already had learned of her concern over the men with shattered lives, trying to cope by begging for a living since their means of working was damaged or removed – as well as her willingness to work at finding solutions to that problem. He already knew that she liked children, treated servants with respect, and was not filled with her own importance. Perhaps he did not know her favorite color and what foods she preferred to eat, but that would come, all in good time. He had a lifetime to discover such details.

They had been silent for a while before he observed, "Though you may not ride all that much, you sit a horse well."

She smiled and dipped her head. "Thank you. High praise from a horseman. I like riding, but there always seem to be other things that more urgently claim the hours of my day."

"Indeed," he responded soberly. "I find myself more and more in a chair, and see far less of a saddle."

She nodded. "Yes. I am sure a king would have even greater responsibilities than do I. Even so, you have traveled much these past few years, from what I am told. Surely that has helped a bit?"

"A bit, yes, but not enough. And a long journey is not...not the same as riding the open plains, when the grass is high and the wildflowers are in bloom. It is a glorious sight to the eye," he told her fervently.

"It sounds wonderful, and I shall make Father promise to bring me to see it. It is unfair that so many have seen Rohan since peace was restored, but that I have not." She gazed toward the north as she spoke, envisioning that far-off land that tantalized her so.

"Of course, my advisers cannot decide if I am gone too much or not enough. But the Mark could not have been adequately restored so quickly without my trips to see what was needed, and traveling to Gondor. Aragorn - Elessar - has been most generous with provisions to see us through the roughest patches. Now that things are improved, perhaps my traveling will soon wane, though so too will my riding." He did not mention that a wife at Edoras would encourage his acceptance of such inactivity.

"Will you tell me something of life at Meduseld?" she beseeched him. "Eowyn has told me a little during our discussions, but not so much as to satisfy my curiosity. And our libraries are decidedly bereft of books about Rohan and its people."

He smiled at the complaint. "You must remember that ours is not much of a written culture. Our history is told in songs more than anything else. My sister and I were taught both Common Speech and Sindarin, along with Rohirric, because our uncle was Gondorian born, and deemed it as important for us as for his own son. In that, he must have had some foresight, for none of us expected it would be Eowyn and I to have such close allegiance with Gondor once more."

After a moment of thought, he launched into his typical day at Meduseld, from rising at dawn to turning in at night, and she listened with rapt attention. "You do have servants, then, to do much of the work, but I perceive from both yours and Eowyn's comments that the King works equally hard. I got the impression from what Eowyn said that she did far more in heading Theoden King's household than I am called upon to do in caring for my father's house. She did more herself, whereas I am more prone to instructing others what to do," she observed thoughtfully.

Eomer nodded. "Yes, that is somewhat true. The women who are the head of a household do work very hard. Even the queen herself would do so." He flitted a quick glance at her when he said that. "But, I have seen for myself that you, at least, do not always rely on servants to do everything – such as rescue kittens?"

She laughed. "Well, hardly a taxing pursuit, but I do involve myself sometimes, you are right! It just seems silly to make someone else do something when I am perfectly capable on my own. I should feel utterly useless." She gazed off toward Minas Tirith a moment, then added, "A woman may work harder in Rohan, but I think she is likely more fulfilled within herself. What she does is of greater consequence than so much of what the noble women do here. Some few do step outside the normal bounds and make more of a difference to those around them, but it is not the most common of behavior."

"But you would do it, and would wish to do so more often?" he prompted.

"Yes," she readily admitted. "There is a joy in tiredness well earned, and I am privileged to feel it much too infrequently." She ducked her head, pensively considering her words, almost as much a revelation to her as to him.

Before they could pursue the conversation further, Amrothos rejoined them, and they rode the final few leagues talking with him.

xxxxx

The return to Minas Tirith was also a return to responsibility. A packet of letters had arrived from Rohan for the king, and Eomer spent the evening reading through them. With a sigh, he set them on the table next to him and stared at the fire. The dispatches from home reminded Eomer just how much time he had spent away from the Mark in the past couple of years. Even though it had been for good reason, there was no denying his people would benefit from a king in residence rather than traveling afar.

He would like to have remained longer, but there was so much that needed doing at home. Eowyn's child had been safely born and amply celebrated, so he could not justify lingering longer. Like it or not, he would have to head home in two days. The idea of returning home was not daunting in itself, but suddenly he realized his dilemma. While he had been thinking all along that his time spent with Lothiriel counted as courtship, nothing to that effect had ever been voiced. Indeed, he had never even asked her father's permission to engage in such, though he did not doubt Imrahil's accession. He saw now just how much had been unspoken, assumed by him as he thought it was assumed by everyone involved. But was it? Two days was not very long in which to settle things with Lothiriel.

When he made his departure plans known the next morning at breakfast with Aragorn and Arwen, the royals decided a final send-off was in order, and Arwen promised to have a feast ready the following night. The prospect of dancing with Lothiriel was a welcome one, but he needed to accomplish far more than that.

The date for his leaving was set, but Eomer could not decide how best to act to put matters on the course he desired. At length, he thought it might be better to speak with Lothiriel alone and make sure that she viewed things as he did. If her wishes were indeed in accordance with his, he would write a letter to Imrahil, perhaps even on the journey home, asking for a betrothal. Then, in due time when all of Gondor's requirements had been met, Lothiriel could come to him in the Mark and be his bride. Yes, that was the best way to settle this. He would get her alone at the dance and make his wishes known to her.

xx

Eomer was in a bad mood. He hadn't started the evening that way; in fact, he had great anticipation of spending most of the night in Lothiriel's company. The reality was something far different. Merchants and noblemen pressed upon him, eager for final conversations before he was gone. Could they not see his mind was attuned to more pleasurable pursuits than speaking of business and politics?

Lothiriel's presence was both a frustration and a delight. A delight in that she was usually near enough to him that he could gaze upon her, bringing a smile to his lips no matter how dull the person with him, but frustrating that he could not approach her. He had managed to reach her side once, claiming her for a dance, but as they obtained refreshment afterwards, the swarm had descended upon him again and she had quietly slipped away. At least she had only danced otherwise with her father or brothers, though he was partly responsible for that. Any man who dared go near, appearing as though he sought her company, received Eomer's most intimidating glare. One or two got fairly close, even spoke to her before they noticed him, but all had summarily retreated when they did. Evidently they correctly read the meaning of the look he was giving them.

And, yet, he was still no closer to being with the lady himself. He had hoped for dancing and conversation this night. There had been little dancing, for he desired no partner but her, and too much of the wrong conversation with the wrong people. He would have to leave tomorrow, and tonight was to be the time for him to broach the subject of marriage to her, and seek her thoughts. He could not, would not, leave without knowing where they stood.

His eyes flicked toward her again; she was speaking with Amrothos. The festivities would conclude soon and he was running out of time to act. Perhaps he was going to have to risk being rude in order to reach her.

x

"Well, sister, you have danced little this evening. That is most unusual," Amrothos observed with feigned innocence, stepping up beside her.

Lothiriel gave a soft sigh and nodded. "I know. For some reason the young men have not requested my company tonight, though I cannot think why that is so. They have been quite free in doing so until now."

"Hmmm, perhaps it has something to do with a certain king glaring threateningly at any who dare approach you," her brother offered, trying to appear only mildly interested in the situation.

She could not help a flush of pleasure at his words, and all that they suggested, but managed to maintain an unflustered countenance. Her eyes flicked toward Eomer, but he was not presently gazing in her direction.

"Or perhaps," she countered, "my brother with too much imagination thinks he sees things that are not real!" She took a sip of wine to hide her smile.

"I do not know why you wish to drag Erchirion into this discussion," he argued, "but I, too, have noticed Eomer's behavior."

She could not hold back a soft snort at his pretended misunderstanding of her words – he was irrepressible!

"If that were so," she noted, "then one would expect Eomer to approach me himself, but he has not done so save for once. You are mistaken." There was no little regret in her very valid point. She could have wished to dance with Eomer all night.

"Unless," Amrothos persisted, "he is being kept too busy by noblemen and traders seeking one final audience with him. And perhaps he lacks sufficient encouragment from you to more forcefully fend them off!" With a raised eyebrow of emphasis, he gazed down at her, before strolling casually away and leaving her to ponder his words and her own thoughts.

Ooh, her brother could be infuriating at times! But despite that, she found herself considering what he had said. Had she been less than encouraging? Had she somehow failed to let Eomer know that she welcomed his attentions? She had hoped to spend the evening mostly in his company, but apparently everyone else was of a like mind and it had not been so. She understood that he needed to speak to the others, that she could not claim all of his time, but it had turned out that she had spent most of the evening lurking near him, hoping he would come to her. He would be leaving tomorrow, and it worried her that nothing was settled between them. She thought he liked her, was attracted to her. Certainly she wished him to pursue a union, but perhaps she had misinterpreted mere friendliness on his part?

She had tried to be available for him. Even if Amrothos was right and Eomer was frightening away other young men, she would have declined most of them anyway so as to provide him every opportunity should he wish to claim it. Now the evening was nearly ended, and one dance was all she could boast. That, and many wistful glances in his direction. He had never seemed particularly aware of her as the night progressed, but had she missed something?

She finished her wine as she reviewed how the evening had played out, but could reach no firm conclusion on the matter. Still, that was not to say that she could not be more encouraging now. And if he was encumbered by merchants and noblemen, then possibly he would welcome her assistance in escaping in these last moments. With his departure looming, she might not get another chance to be near him. Setting her glass decisively on a nearby table, she moved over to join the group gathered around the king. She wanted some sort of resolution before they parted company.

He glimpsed her approaching and turned in her direction, but as luck would have it, just then the festivities were ending. Now others surged in upon him bidding a final farewell, and her father approached as well to escort her home. Lothiriel could feel the panic building in her but knew not what could be done. The look in Eomer's eyes made her suspect he was equally at a loss.

And then they were saying their goodnights, rather than the words each longed to speak. At the last possible moment, Eomer invited, "Imrahil, will you and your family breakfast with us tomorrow, ere I leave. I would enjoy one last visit with you."

His eyes flicked repeatedly to Lothiriel as he spoke, a fact the lady's father did not miss. "We should be delighted to do so. Around half past seven – does that suit?"

Eomer nodded absentmindedly. "Yes, that will be fine. I will see you then." Though he spoke to both of them, his words seemed directed at Lothiriel and she blushed, flattered but confused. Tomorrow, then? Would he speak to her tomorrow? She could only wait to see as Imrahil led her away. At the door, she glanced back. He was still watching her go, and she smiled.

xxxxx

There had been no argument from Faramir and Eowyn about guests for breakfast, not that Eomer had anticipated any. Good thing, too, as he was out of time and desperate to sort things through. Imrahil's family had walked up to the Steward's house where Eomer was housed, and Lothiriel agreed to a turn about the garden with him after they had eaten. No one argued about their excusing themselves from the group.

It had rained somewhat during the night and the garden was freshly washed, making the greenery more vibrant. But Eomer was oblivious to his surroundings. All the proper and appropriate words he had practiced in his mind suddenly fled his thoughts, and facing her he was at a loss for what to say. Knowing time was short, however, he forced himself to press forward.

"Lothiriel, if it is acceptable to you, I would wish to…court you." Eomer was startled by the words he had spoken, knowing they were not the ones he had intended to voice, but it seemed the height of presumption to propose marriage to a woman whom he had only known a fortnight.

A flicker of surprise – and was there also a trace of disappointment? – raced over her countenance, and was concealed so quickly he could not be certain he had even seen it.

"Of course, Eomer," she replied evenly, her voice oddly husky. "I would find that most agreeable, indeed. I am flattered by your interest." Her response was cautious and polite. She had thought they were beyond such formalities as beginning a courtship. Had they not begun it the moment they met? Apparently she had badly misjudged his view of the matter if he now believed he must return to the beginning with her.

Eomer recoiled inwardly. Her words were all very proper, and everything cold and dull. It was not what he wanted, and up until this moment he had never felt so stiff and awkward in her presence. Unsure what more to say, he nodded, simply murmuring, "Good."

He gazed at her in silence and then turned, walking slowly away, but after a mere ten paces he skidded to a halt. She had not moved, and he felt her eyes boring into his back. Wheeling around, Eomer returned quickly to stand before her, catching her hand up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, causing her breath to hitch slightly, then told her firmly, "No. I do not wish to court you, Lothiriel. I wish to marry you. It is that simple and I will not pretend my feelings are otherwise. Perhaps it is too soon – too sudden – and you may need more time, but I have no doubt that my love for you is sincere and firm, despite its quickness."

She breathed out slowly, as if in relief. "I am very glad to hear it, Eomer," she said, laying a tender hand upon his cheek as her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "I would not like to think I was the only one of us whose heart has overridden their reason. Yes, Eomer, I will marry you. Happily!"

She paused a moment in thought, then added, "I cannot explain what has happened between us, Eomer, nor how it has taken root so quickly, and frankly I am not much interested in trying to do so. I have desired and sought the love of a good man, with the intent to marry, and here you are – all that I could have dreamed and more. Why should I question the fates that brought us together at long last?"

The turmoil that had been roiling inside Eomer quelled instantly, and a peace stole through him that he had not felt in many long years, if ever. For several interminable moments they simply stood gazing into each other's eyes, and then he turned over her hand that he still held and pressed a warm kiss to her palm. He could almost hear her heart racing, matching his own stride for stride. Her eyes invited him to continue, and a large hand slid around her waist, drawing her to him. In complete consent, her arms went round his neck, tangling in his long mane of hair. And then at last, after what seemed a lifetime of waiting, their lips met in that first sweet kiss.

Neither could say how long they remained thus, but only when an insistent clearing of the throat was heard repeatedly did they finally pull back from the intimacy. Lothiriel slowly licked her lips as she smiled up at him, and commented, "It would seem, Eomer, that we should find a more private spot to continue our conversation."

His arms tightened around her as warmth suffused him, but reluctantly he answered, "Or perhaps we should give your brother no reason to challenge me. I do, after all, count him as a friend, and I should like to keep it so."

Understanding passed between them with a mere glance, and Amrothos grasped instantly that he was not needed, or wanted, here. "It is not me that should concern you, friend, but the lady's father would expect you to be…circumspect. I have only come to tell you that your party is ready to depart." He watched them a moment longer, as neither moved to break their embrace, then turned and left them.

They stood unmoving, wrapped in each others' arms. At length, though, Eomer confessed, "I fear if I leave here now without you, something will prevent my returning to claim you as my wife." He hoped she understood his concern.

A smile played over her lips as she laid a hand upon his chest. "Eomer, do you truly not understand, that if you could not return, then I would come to you?" Her brow knit thoughtfully, then she added, "There is something completely right about us, and I cannot imagine being separated from you for any length of time. My only regret is that…"

"We did not meet sooner." He finished her thought, when she paused, and she nodded to confirm her agreement.

"Yes. I have long known that my family desired us to meet in hopes of forming an alliance, but I was determined not to be pressed if I felt no inclination once I had made your acquaintance. Yet almost from that first instant, I…knew. Knew that it was supposed to be; knew that you were the one I wished to live out my days beside. I am only relieved that your feelings in the matter match my own, but I can assure you that our fervor is equal that we will soon be joined. Do not worry. You will return as you intend, or I will find a way to come to Rohan. Now that our hearts have joined, we will not allow anything to keep us apart."

Eomer breathed out a sigh, letting his tension seep away with it. Enfolding her into his embrace, he murmured against her hair, "We are well matched, Lothiriel, in many ways, but especially that we are of like mind. I will let my fears be laid to rest."

"I must go," Eomer told her at length, stepping out of the embrace, "but I promise that I will return, and soon."

"And you may be assured that I will be waiting, Eomer. Come quickly."

A smile crinkled both their faces, then turning, they moved arm in arm to the Citadel courtyard. At long last, all was right with the world, now that they had found what they had been missing.

THE END

10/3/11 – 4/11/12

Rohan women:

Afrehold – "perpetually loyal" (ch 3)

Fegenferth – "happy heart" (ch 6)

Mithanmag – "hidden woman" (ch 1)

Rohan male (mentioned):

Aldfrid – "old peace"

Gondor women:

Ardagnir – "bane of royals" (MT) (ch 5)

Balardil – "lover of power" (MT) (ch 2)

Gaermil – "sea lover" (DA) (ch 4)

Pethmil – "lover of words" (MT) (ch 2)

Vaniel – "beautiful daughter" (DA) (ch 4)

Gondor men:

Angamor – "black iron" (ch 7)

Belcam – "strong hand" (ch 3)

Faramil – "sufficient affection" (ch 6)

Pethraug – "demon words" (ch 4)

Tarendil – "friend of kings" (ch 2)

Vanendil – "lover of beauty" (ch 4)