Chapter 9
Yule morning greeted Lothíriel with bright sunlight. She stretched on her bed and as her mind cleared of sleep she thought of Éomer. Last night, they had briefly encountered each other when she had been making her way to the great hall. He had nodded politely at her and she had returned the gesture, but nothing more had transpired between them. Maybe this day she would have the chance to actually talk with him in private?
When Naneth arrived, the princess dressed in her warm winter gown and heavy boots. Her maid wore similar gear, as most of the morning would be spent outside, enjoying the beautiful winter day. The horsemen would perform all kinds of wonderful feats of skill and bravery, there would be a bonfire that would burn through all the day and night, and the men of the King's household would go for a Yule hunt in the forests. Songs would be sung and neighbours visited each other to wish prosperity and luck, and for a moment, fears and worries would be gone.
Éowyn was busy with making sure that everything ran smoothly, so Lothíriel spent most of the morning with Erfréa and Móna. After breakfast, they exchanged the gifts; Éowyn gave Lothíriel a new quiver for her arrows, and from Erfréa and Móna she received a beautifully made bracelet and some beautiful plum-coloured fabrics. Soon after they went out for a stroll and even visited Master Flód to wish a merry Yule to him. The healer was somewhat surprised (and shot a pointed glance towards Erfréa, who was grinning unashamedly) but Lothíriel was fairly sure she also saw some delight in his eyes because of this courtesy. Then they carried on all the way to the plains outside the front gate. Many families had gathered there already to see how the master horsemen made their horses do all kinds of fantastic tricks that were considered impressive even in the land of the horselords. Éomer was there, too, and Firefoot danced under him as if the animal were purposefully trying to catch attention – which the man and his mount definitely did do. A pang of jealousy came to Lothíriel when she spotted some girls giggling and staring at the Marshal in a way that did not leave anything for doubt, but then she realised how stupid that was and she wanted to give herself a good kick.
The girls wanted to go out riding and escort the hunting party out of the town, which sounded like a good idea. He was there, of course, riding with the Crown Prince who led the party as his father was in no condition for riding or hunting. Briefly his gaze came to rest on Lothíriel as they passed by each other. Even then, that one look was like a sweet breeze of summer and a dagger through one's heart at the same time. Now that she was aware of his feelings for her, she instantly recognized the expression in his eyes and knew it must be answered in her own.
After riding a league or so with the hunters, the three girls and the four Swan Knights with them turned back to Edoras. Erfréa was already excited about the nearing evening and she babbled endlessly of the preparations she needed to make before the celebrations. Her good mood cheered up even Lothíriel and she could not help but share the other girl's enthusiasm (although she imagined hers was for an entirely different reason).
"Well, Móna, wasn't the prince very handsome?" Erfréa asked when they were halfway back to Edoras. The other girl blushed furiously.
"Erfréa! Stop it!" she scolded and looked away.
"Our Móna here has had a crush on Prince Théodred ever since she was 12. To be honest, I think he is rather fond of her, too", Erfréa said, obviously enjoying herself.
"Do not tease her, Erfréa. I know there must be some young warrior you are completely in love with, too", Lothíriel put in.
"Oh, Erfréa has had more sweethearts than I care to count. But I fear she hasn't yet found her match. And even if she had, the poor lad would still have to get her father's permission", Móna answered and gave the princess a grateful glance for stepping in. The princess could imagine what kind of bravery it requested for any young man to face Lord Erkenbrand; Erfréa had introduced her to the man earlier that day, and the one of the few men to match Erkenbrand in size and authority was Éomer himself.
"What about you, Lothig? Is there some handsome lord waiting for you back in Dol Amroth?" Erfréa asked and looked curiously at the princess. Lothíriel lowered her eyes.
"There is someone. I don't think I will ever be with him, though", she said quietly, not able to stop sorrow from entering her voice.
"Who could possibly be so inaccessible that there's no way you could be with him?" Erfréa inquired.
"Shut up, Erfréa. Don't you see she doesn't want to talk about it?" Móna said, her voice uncommonly strict. "This isn't a fairy tale and you're not Feorh on a quest to reunite the forbidden lovers Godan and Holen."
"I am sorry. I did not mean to bring up any unhappy memories", the taller girl hurried to say. Lothíriel tried to smile a bit, but her expression probably ended up looking more like a grimace.
"It's nothing, my friend. I'll... I'll just have to deal with it", she said quietly and shook her head. Erfréa did not know what to say, but Móna, ever the sensitive heart, placed her hand on Lothíriel's arm for a moment.
Soon the blonde girl started to joke about something again, obviously to cheer up the others a bit, and Lothíriel let the other girl's happiness carry herself away from her moment of heaviness. There would be plenty of time to think of him later.
The group of hunters returned with plenty of game and a festive mood. It was already late afternoon, and the sun would soon start setting. When the sun would touch the horizon, it was the time to start the celebration.
The ladies of the King's house spent a good deal of the afternoon in the process of preparing themselves for the festivities. For the first time, Lothíriel was glad she had actually taken one of her better gowns with her. The damned thing had taken a lot of space, but at least it finally came to serve its purpose. It was the traditional blue of her home, ornamented with silver embroideries on the neckline and wide sleeves that were of thinner fabric than the rest of the gown. At first, she had thought she'd have preferred something red perhaps, so that she wouldn't stand out too much, but then again she couldn't help hoping she might impress him if she looked her very best tonight. And if everything went like she wished... well, tonight was important. She could already feel it.
Naneth had just been adding finishing touches to Lothíriel's hair when someone knocked the door. She could hear Erfréa's delighted giggles, which made her smile, too.
"Come in!" she called and the two girls rushed in. Erfréa was a vision in her red dress, of course; Lord Erkenbrand would have to watch his daughter well this night. Móna, on the other hand, had chosen a more traditional forest green that went very well with her curvy figure. If Erfréa was right about Théodred being equally fond of the young woman, the Prince wouldn't probably be able to have his eyes off her entire night.
"Lothig! Let's exchange bodies!" Erfréa squealed and shook the princess' hand with enthusiasm one could almost have called violent. "Oh dear Valar, why couldn't I have hair like that?"
"Nonsense, Erfréa. With you and Móna present, the men won't know which one to stare", she said, smiling.
"So they'll settle on you, naturally!" Móna jested. Lothíriel rolled her eyes, but could not help but laugh a bit at their silly joking. Her heart was lighter than in months.
The Golden Hall was lit with hundreds of candles and torches. A warm atmosphere had for once replaced the usual gloom, and already people were laughing and chattering away lightly. It was impossible to feel the sorrows on a night like this and Lothíriel decided that at least for today she'd try to forget about everything else.
She and friends found their places with Naneth, captain Aradhain and his men. Her maid and the Swan Knights were Lothíriel's only connection to home this night, so it felt only proper to share the feast with them. The younger knights seemed slightly bewildered by the ladies' company, all dressed in their best. Erfréa was already flirting with Innas, and the princess hoped she wouldn't completely mess his head.
The King had not yet entered the hall – it was him people were waiting for now. His announcement would start the festivities and people were waiting anxiously now. According to Erfréa, Wormtongue was probably holding the elderly king in the royal chambers, intentionally making the people wait.
"Oh, stop it. Even he can't be that petty", Móna argued and the two girls began to banter whether he could.
Involuntarily and instinctively, Lothíriel sought the Marshal with her gaze until she spotted him standing by the King's table. He was dressed in dark green tunic, embroidered skillfully with golden thread at the neckline and sleeves. She could feel her heart fluttering at the sight of him, and suddenly he lifted his face and met her gaze. His eyes widened slightly as he looked at her, his eyes burning her until he quickly turned his face away. Lothíriel did the same and tried to concentrate on Erfréa's endless flood of talk, but it was hard to make any sense of that.
"Your Godan is very handsome tonight, my friend", Móna whispered suddenly. The princess gasped and looked at the younger woman, startled. The captain's daughter smiled gently. "Do not worry. Your secret is safe with me."
"Thank you, Móna", Lothíriel answered silently, hoping she could somehow have told her friend how much she appreciated the younger woman's discretion. Then again, Móna probably knew.
Soon after, the King entered the hall with Éowyn on his one side and Wormtongue the other. Lothíriel was not sure whether she had just imagined it, but to her it seemed like the King's health had been failing past weeks, and sometimes it almost seemed like he did not exactly know where he was anymore. There were moments he didn't seem to recognize the people around him – not even Éomer. The princess could only imagine how that must have hurt the King's sister-children.
With a trembling hand, the King lifted his horn of ale and the people in the hall followed his example. His voice weary as he spoke, the Lord of the Mark declared the nearing of the new year and wish prosperity to his subjects. Then the people hailed the King and drank heartily from their cups and drinking horns. The feast began and brimful platters and bowls of delicious-smelling food were brought to tables. The kitchens of Meduseld had truly done their best, and more – the food was so good Lothíriel almost ate too much.
Erfréa was, of course, the centre of their table. The mead she had drunk as the opening toast had not only brought a flush to her cheeks but also made her even more lively than usual. The men at the table seemed to be very much enthralled with the bold girl; she was nothing like the Gondorian ladies who, even though they were well-trained in the art of flirt, were nothing like this vibrant girl. Poor Innas especially seemed to be completely overwhelmed by the fair girl but Naneth looked mostly scandalized, so she sought the company of Gailion, who was more reserved and didn't seem too taken with Erkenbrand's daughter. While Erfréa was occupied by the Swan Knights, Lothíriel and Móna had a conversation of their own.
"When did it happen? When did you fall in love with him?" Móna asked quietly.
"I do not know for sure. I think I've always loved him, in a way. It was only when I returned here that I begun to realize how deep my feelings for him actually run", the princess answered, watching the Marshal from the corner of her eye. He was conversing quietly with one of his men, looking sombre as ever.
"I remember how inseparable the two of you were when you first visited Edoras. I suppose I should have known all along! I think he loves you, too. No man looks at a woman in that way unless he's in love with her" Móna said and smiled.
"My uncle would probably not be so impressed, though. I don't think he will let me marry a 'mere' Marshal", Lothíriel sighed.
"I think I might know something of how you feel. I don't mean it's the same thing, though. You see, like Erfréa ungracefully revealed, I am rather fond of Prince Théodred. And from what I've gathered, he seems to like me, too. But he has never made an attempt towards me, and I doubt he ever will", the younger woman explained quietly, shaking her head.
"Well, at least I would call those looks he's giving you attempts. If you ask for my opinion, I would say he will propose to you in no time", Lothíriel crooned and they glanced at the prince who was giving them and especially Móna some very meaningful glances, no doubt encouraged by ale. The two girls giggled, which of course caught Erfréa's attention, and the fair-haired woman spent rest of the banquet inquiring what they had been talking of.
When the dinner was finished, the King's musicians started playing at the one end of the dais. The music was not as exactly what Lothíriel was used to hearing back in the courts of Gondor, but it was very lively and cheerful, as was fit for this night. At first, everyone felt too heavy with freshly eaten food to actually dance, but after a while the space meant for dancing began to fill, and soon a nervous-looking young Rohir came to ask Lothíriel for a dance. Stretching her legs sounded good so she accepted the invitation and joined the young man. She did not exactly know the steps, but she had received enough lessons in dancing to get a hold of this new dance too. Her partner seemed to be having the time of his life, especially when he got to lift her from her waist.
But suddenly, at the end of one move, she was lifted faster and higher than before. She almost yelped with surprise, but succeeded in smothering that instinctive reaction. She was whirled around and he was there, all in his golden-green glory, and looking at her as if she might disappear any moment. The candlelight made his hair shine like there was some celestial halo around his head.
"May I have this dance?" he asked.
"You may", Lothíriel breathed and her voice came out as a strange little whimper. And every single one after this one.
They danced, mostly in silence but their eyes speaking in volumes to each other. Lothíriel's heart beat fast, and she was alive, perhaps more than ever. She loved this man and wanted him and she did not know what she would do if she could not have him. The music was in her ears and heart and yet it was far away at the same time, and for a moment, only the two of them existed in this world.
But then the music ended and he pulled her with him to the other side of the hall.
"I need to speak with you, my lady", he said quietly. "Will you come outside with me?"
"I will just go and fetch my cloak", Lothíriel answered breathlessly and rushed back to her chamber. She grabbed her winter cloak and then ran for the purse where she kept her jewellery. Quickly she dug through it, caught her grandfather's ring and put it inside her mantle's pocket. Tonight was the night. And she sensed the right moment was approaching fast.
Once outside, Éomer led her by the stone terrace to the backside of the Golden Hall, which faced the White Mountains. There was a small unkempt garden down there, but no other soul was on sight. Still, he pulled her into the guarding shadow cast by the Golden Hall.
"I am sorry for not having had the chance to speak with you before now. How have you fared here last months?" he asked finally. He was standing very close to her, close enough to touch, to embrace, to kiss...
"I have been well. I have tried to keep myself busy", Lothíriel answered. She was finding it hard to keep her eyes away from him, now that they were alone; she wanted to drink all of this moment, fold it gently and hide it inside her heart for the times of separation which no doubt lay ahead of them.
"So my sister tells me. Master Flód seems to think you a very talented healer", he remarked.
"Well, I have just had good teachers. I'm not half as good as Master Flód and probably never will be", she said, feeling a bit awkward for his compliment. "What of you, my lord?"
"As well as usually, if a bit lonely", Éomer answered with clear honesty.
"I've missed you also... I always do, when you are away", she whispered, taking his hand in hers. It was a large and steady hand, with warm and calloused skin – warrior's hand. He seemed to swallow then, and for a long moment he was quiet. Then he lifted his other hand to touch her face.
"You are very beautiful tonight. Painfully so, to be honest. But aren't the most important things in our lives often that way?" he whispered gently, tracing the side of her face with his fingers. She lifted her own hand and covered his, twining their fingers and pressing his palm against her cheek. He bent his head towards her, and she could feel his hot breath, see the searching look in his dark eyes... but it was her who took that final leap and pressed her lips against his; his moan was of amazement and yet there was a kind of relief, and she squeezed his hand to reassure him. Recovered, he took her face between his calloused hands and answered her kiss with fiery ardour. And the kiss was like nothing she had ever experienced, desperate and full of passion and it could be the only kiss she would ever get to give him... So she held on to him until she had to gasp for air.
He was breathless as well, his face flushed; his expression was both anguished and euphoric at the same time. He still held her face between his hands, only now his forehead was against the top of her head... And her heart was beating in time with his, longing and wanting and needing...
"Lothíriel... my heart, my life, my love..." he whispered, and there was such vulnerability about his voice when he spoke that she felt weak, but also it made her heart fill with love and tenderness for him.
"Le annon veleth nín",she answered, and he knew enough of Sindarin to understand what she said. And he kissed her again and pulled her closer to himself, which she gladly allowed.
For a long moment, they just lingered there, in each other's arms. For this one perfect moment, the world was flawless and there was no war, no shadows looming taller with each passing day, no know-it-all Stewards to stand in the way of two kindred spirits. She clung to him, holding him the way she had dreamt of doing so many times, and it was hard to believe this was happening. After a while, she broke the silence and graced his rough cheek with her fingers. Silently, she decided it was something she could get used to.
"I have something for you", she said and took the ring from her pocket. "This belonged to my grandfather once. I've been looking for a man who would be deserving of it. I feel that you are that man."
She took his hand in hers and carefully pushed the ring to his third finger. She was surprised when the ring actually fit – she did not remember Grandfather having as big hands as Éomer had.
"Strange, that you should give me this", he said quietly as he looked down on the ring she had just given him, his expression indicating quiet but great turmoil of emotion. "I was meaning to give you a similar gift."
He reached for his own pocket and produced another ring: this one was golden with a red jewel, cradled between tiny leaves like a flower.
"This was passed to my father from his mother Eadmod. He gave it to my mother... on her death bed, she took this from her finger and asked me to give it to the woman I loved", he said silently, his voice trembling and vivid as he gently slid it on her third finger. "And I can tell you that I have never loved any woman like I love you."
And with that, their hearts were sealed together, and he enveloped her in another kiss.
"There is something I need to ask you, Lothíriel", he whispered after a while.
"What is it?" she asked, gazing deeply into his eyes.
Silently, he lowered himself down on his knees in the front of her and as he gathered her hands in his own, breath was caught in her throat (she was sure her heart missed one or two beats when she understood what was happening). He searched her eyes quietly and then he started to speak.
"Lothíriel, I have always adored you – from that first moment when I lifted you from the waves and you looked at me with such perfect trust... I loved you as a friend, but when I watched you run with a bow in your hand towards the face of danger, and on the times when only your letters seemed to be things to look forward to, I began to realise that there is something more in my heart for you. My Princess, I've become to wish you to remain with me for the rest of our days. I know there are obstacles between us, and that your uncle does not approve of a mere Marshal loving you and wanting you to be his to keep, but truly I am ready to do anything it takes to win his consent. I will win the entire world's approval and ride to the very gates of Mordor if that's what it takes. Lothíriel, would you perhaps consider that some day, when I've proven myself to be worthy of you, I could become your husband?"
The princess found it suddenly very hard to speak – it is such a hard thing when one is sobbing and trembling and one's heart is about to burst – but finally she gave him her answer: she threw herself against him and kissed him with all she had. She did not need to explain that to her he'd never have to prove himself or that in her heart, the two of them were already wed.
"I take it that your answer is positive?" he asked breathlessly after a long, passionate kiss.
"I can't imagine where you got that impression from!"
He laughed and kissed her again – many times.
"Lothíriel of Dol Amroth –"
"Éomer of Aldburg –"
"I now promise to you –"
"I swear to you –"
" – that I will never marry anyone else than you."
Lothíriel would have been rather happy to stay there for the rest of the night, but after a while she began to feel cold, and it was probably a high time to return the hall. She did not want anyone noticing that she and Éomer both were missing and start coming up with ideas what it could mean. So, after one last kiss and a promise they'd see each other tomorrow, the two returned the celebration. To prevent any suspicions, they parted at the door and went both on their separate ways.
The princess spent the remainder of the night in golden haze, and as she danced with Captain Aradhain, the poor man probably took her for a madwoman. Of course, even as she wildly leaped around with the captain who was desperately trying to keep up, she knew she was not any closer to marrying Éomer than she had been this morning. But now, for the first time, she actually felt hope. Now it was growing in her heart, for she had an ally in him and something to believe in... something to fight for. If Beren could win the hand of Lúthien, then surely Éomer could find a way to Lothíriel?
After a dance with Aradhain and then Gailion, she got back to her friends' table, Erfréa looked at her curiously.
"You, my dear princess, look like the cat that wanted the cream and got it. Where were you?" the younger woman asked. Lothíriel just beamed.
"Just dancing. And places. Dancing places", she answered. Erfréa leaned towards her and sniffed loudly.
"Have you been drinking mead?" Erfréa asked, suspicious now.
Indeed I have. Mead's name was Love and the vessel I drank it from is called Éomer and you can't have any, Lothíriel thought giddily (she'd probably have laughed at her own thoughts had she not been in such a euphoric state of mind), but of course such things could not be said out loud.
"I suppose I have", she answered instead. Before Erfréa could say anything, Lothíriel hugged her tightly. "You're amazing! I love you and you are never allowed to change!"
"Lothig, you're sounding awfully lot like me. Should I call Master Flód?" Erfréa asked suspiciously. "I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be the one hugging people and making teary love confessions tonight, not you."
"Let her be, Lady Erfréa. It is good to see her so happy for once", said captain Aradhain, who had just returned the table after another dance, this time with a less enthusiastic partner. The fair-haired woman gave up, but she did shoot curious glances at the princess every now and then. Something similar seemed to be going over where Éomer was feasting with Éothain and several of his men: his rich melodious laughter and unusually good mood seemed to puzzle everyone around him.
By midnight, one of the King's musicians finally blew the horn to announce that the celebrations of the day had come to an end. After one last toast together the people began to put out the lights. One log was taken from the fire with pliers (it would be put aside for the coming year and then used to light the fireplace) before the last torch was extinguished. Suddenly it was nearly pitch black in the hall: it would stay dark for the whole night until the first light of dawn, when the Crown Prince would rise with the sun and lit up the new fire.
Ever since her attack, Lothíriel had been somewhat scared of darkness unless it was in her own room with the door bolted tight. She nearly panicked in this darkness which she hadn't known to expect, and in growing terror she looked around for Erfréa or Móna or Éomer. But then there was a soft voice of Captain Aradhain calling her and he firmly but gently grasped her arm, for which she was grateful. It would have been easy to get lost in the dark hall and the crowd of people swarming about them.
"I'll take you to your room, Princess", he said and was already pushing her ahead when Innas joined them, muttering to himself how spooky this place was when there was no light.
"Are you truly feeling well, my lady?" Aradhain asked as they approached the door of Lothíriel's chamber. "You did seem very giddy. Lady Erfréa was not entirely wrong to ask if you've been drinking..."
"Oh, I am perfectly fine, good captain. I suppose it's the mead - I'm not sure I really have resistance for it", she answered and gave him a serene smile, and her words seemed to console him. Hopefully he wouldn't report to Aunt Ivriniel about the mead-drinking, or there would probably be strong-worded conversations when she next saw her aunt.
At the door of her room, the three bid good night to each other and Lothíriel retreated in her chamber. She bolted the door and then took few light dance steps before flinging herself to the bed. There she let out a small giggle as she studied the ring that now adorned her finger. Feeling the golden waves of happiness course through her, she made the decision, one she hoped she could keep no matter what future would bring. She had had enough of moping and being miserable. Tomorrow, a new era would begin: an era of hope.
End of Part 1
A/N: As with using Simbelmynë in decorating the wreaths, the custom of the Crown Prince rising with the sun to light the new fire is my own idea. The story of forbidden lovers Godan and Holen is also my own invention.
Le annon veleth nín= I give my love to you.
Béma was the name the Rohirrim had for vala Oromë, whom they respected perhaps the best among the Valar.
So, Éomer and Lothírel have pledged themselves to each other... but there is still a very long way for them to travel before their dream can be realized. I know chapter 9 could be considered a bit early for them to confess their feelings to each other, but the conflicts of this story are somewhere else than in their love for one another.