Spoils of War
Chapter 10
Eomer did not sleep long before he awoke refreshed and it seemed pointless to lie abed longer. As he idly pondered how to occupy his afternoon, his eyes fell on the unwhittled wood he had saved. Once again he took a chair out to the balcony and settled there to enjoy the view while he worked at his carving. Somehow the balmy coastal weather left him feeling lazy, so it was much easier to be content in such a sedentary activity.
He had been working for some time before Eomer realized what his hands had unconsciously been shaping in the wood – a love spoon(8). It was traditional for men in the Mark to carve one to give to the woman they wished to marry; her acceptance of it amounted to a betrothal. He cradled the small object in his large hands, lost in thought. If he were to give such a token, there was only one lady he would consider as the recipient. Only, now, it was unlikely she would accept it. Or would she? His grandmother did not think all was lost. Perhaps such a token would prove his sincerity and win her forgiveness, especially if Morwen had taught her of this particular Rohirric tradition.
He turned it over and over in his hands as he wandered back into the room. He slowly ran a finger over the various emblems he had carved: a heart, of course, representing his love; a twisted stem to show togetherness and the joining of their lives; a horseshoe to represent good luck and happiness; and a lock symbolizing security, indicating his vow to protect her and their family.
All were traditional and frequently seen on such spoons, but he had to admit that they also were an accurate reflection of what he was beginning to realize that he felt for Lothiriel. Why was it so much easier to carve his pledge in wood than to speak the words directly to her? He did not know the answer to that, but the emblems were useless without the words.
Feeling restless, he lifted his eyes to the window. It was a bright, sunny day – fairly typical of summer in Dol Amroth, he had come to know. There always seemed to be a brisk wind in off the water, which usually kept it from being too hot. He moved out onto the balcony again, for a moment, before securely tucking the spoon into the top of his boot and heading to the door. No time like the present.
Lothiriel had been keeping her distance during the course of his visit, but with any luck he could persuade her to hear him out. The time for hesitation was past. For all he had tried to deny to himself the feelings for Lothiriel that had flowered within him, they would not be repressed. More and more his thoughts turned to her, especially now that he was in Dol Amroth, and in her home. His conversations with Morwen had also done much toward helping him understand things that he had never before fully appreciated. The issue now was whether or not his grandmother was correct about the possibility of Lothiriel accepting him, despite her earlier refusal. He would return home soon, and ere his departure he wanted this matter settled. He would not waste more time thinking of a woman who did not want him.
It was just his luck that Lothiriel was not in the house, and no one seemed to know where she was to be found at present. He could not bring himself to return to his room, nor did he want to seek the company of anyone else who might discern his unrest and question him on it. Deciding a walk was in order, he made for the door.
Outside, his guard came to attention, but Eomer waved him away. Perhaps it was unwise to do so, and the man was scowling at him with disapproval though he dared not speak of it, but the king was not in the mood for company – well, only certain company, anyway. He struck off down the long drive of the castle grounds and exited onto a side road that crossed it just outside the gates. Without thinking, he turned north along a road that paralleled the coast, and walked some distance in earnest before his pace finally slowed to something more relaxed.
Just before he reached a copse of trees, he halted to consider where he was going. Glancing around, he saw little but the trees ahead with the road leading into them or back toward the castle, and an open field to his right. On his left, however, he glimpsed an overgrown path.
The dirt track led off the main road in the direction of the shore, and Eomer idly changed course to follow and see where it went. It meandered through scrub brush quite a way, but then ended at the top of a hillside that overlooked the beach. A woman was strolling along, seemingly lost in thought, and his eyes followed her a moment before realizing that it was Lothiriel. He was unsure why she was on this public stretch of beach rather than her family's private one, but any doubts he might have that it was her were wiped away when Morlach dashed into view. The little dog had spotted gulls on the sand some distance ahead and now was racing madly toward them, barking for all he was worth. It was clear that Lothiriel was attempting to call him back, though her voice was carried away on the wind and Eomer could not hear it from where he stood.
A grin tweaked at his mouth. He had to wonder if Lothiriel truly liked Morwen's wayward pet, or merely tolerated the animal as a courtesy to her friend. Still, if she did not like Morlach, he would have expected Lothiriel not to go out of her way to spend time with the dog, but she seemed to do so with considerable regularity.
He stood watching them a few minutes more until his eyes lowered to scan the hillside. It did not take long for him to discern a path down to the shore, and he hastened to make his descent.
By the time he had worked his way down the rough path onto the beach, Lothiriel had moved farther down the shore in her pursuit of Morlach, who still was gleefully ignoring her summons. Her attention was so focused on the dog that she did not notice Eomer's approach from behind her, and he smiled in amusement as she threw Morlach's leash in the dog's direction with frustration over his disobedience. "Morlach!" she yelled in annoyance, giving her foot a stamp.
"Perhaps I might be of assistance," he offered as he drew near, causing her to jump appreciably and whirl to face him. He chuckled and then said, "My apologies – I did not intend to startle you."
For several moments she simply stared at him, but then he gestured toward the frolicking terrier. "Shall I?"
At length, she gave a shrug and nodded. Whatever her personal disagreements with this man, there was no disputing that he seemed to be the one person that Morlach never failed to obey. In a few quick strides he was past her, and finally let out a bellowed, "Morlach! Come!"
Even with the wind, it was clear the dog had heard and recognized that voice. The terrier broke off his gambols and dropped to the sand, staring cautiously at Eomer. "I said Come!" Eomer reiterated. He had heard Morwen use the command with the dog and knew that it was understood.
Slowly Morlach rose and edged toward Eomer, his tail and head lowered submissively. Once he was in reach, Eomer scooped him up in one hand and returned to where Lothiriel waited, shaking her head in astonishment. No matter how many times she witnessed it, this never failed to amaze her. She took the trembling creature from the king, and attached the leash she had retrieved before setting the dog down again.
Lothiriel could only hope that now Eomer would continue on his way, leaving her in peace, but instead he fell in to walk beside her as she turned back toward home. For a time, they strolled in silence that could not truly be called companionable. Eomer's thoughts were roiling, seeking for the words to begin the needed conversation. Lothiriel's mind had no greater calm to it as she mentally willed him to leave her, all the while fighting the inclination to notice how attractive he looked in his windblown state. It seemed every time she glimpsed him, she wanted to drink him in. She could not allow herself such weakness. To do so would only mean further heartache.
"It would seem that we have a problem," he announced abruptly, watching from the corner of his eye for her reaction.
Already she regretted that she had been so lax as to enable him to catch her alone; the pursuit of conversation only made matters worse. Still, proper manners required her to be polite until she could effect an escape. "What problem is that, my lord? I am aware of none." She kept her eyes averted as she spoke, not wishing him to see her emotions brimming in them.
"When I offered for your hand in marriage, I gave you to understand that I was seeking a marriage of convenience, acknowledging a lack of love between us. I find now, however, that I misrepresented the facts."
Her heart skipped a beat, wondering if he had learned of her affections for him and fearful that she had been ineffective in keeping her feelings concealed. Despite her inner turmoil, however, she managed to respond with only the tiniest quaver in her tone. "I do not take your meaning, my lord. What facts were in error?"
He did not answer immediately, making her tense with anxiety over what he would say, but at length he cleared his throat and said firmly, "I indicated, even believed at that time, that I felt nothing more than friendship for you, and I offered based on my belief that you would be an appropriate queen for the Mark. Now I find…I find that I still very much desire you – as our queen, yes, but more importantly as a woman that I hope to have for my wife. Do you think that perhaps in time you might come to have feelings for me, feelings such that would allow you to rethink your refusal of me?"
"And why should I believe that your feelings for me have changed?" she questioned, not quite able to accept this was real – needing further confirmation. "Perhaps you have just resolved to tell me so in order to win my acceptance." Without noticing, they both had come to a halt, and she turned away, reluctant to look at him. If she saw any guilt in his face it would be her undoing.
"Eorlingas do not lie, Lothiriel – at least this one does not. I did not lie and pretend affections that I did not feel when first I asked for your hand, and neither do I pretend now to feel that which I do not. Tell me that you do not return my feelings, or that you do not wish to be my wife and queen, but do not doubt the truth of my words," he answered firmly.
There was the smallest note of pleading in his voice that caused her to glance at him against her will. The fire she saw burning in his eyes confirmed what he had spoken, and her throat constricted with emotion at the sight of it. He did speak truly! If she believed nothing else, she believed that. Now it only fell to her to respond in some manner. She was too overcome for speech, and stooped quickly, pretending to check on Morlach while swallowing hard to calm herself and recover her voice.
When she gave no response, though, Eomer sighed and told her, "I see by your silence that it was indeed a fool's errand for me to approach you after once being rejected. I…thank you for your time and apologize for any distress I may have given you."
His jaw tightened with regret as he turned away, but before he had taken three steps, her voice called to him, low and warm, "Eomer." Though she spoke only the single word, it stopped him in his tracks and held him there, but he could not bring himself to look at her.
"Eomer," she said again, and he almost jumped when the sound came from right at his elbow, and a soft hand was placed on his arm, urging him to turn.
At first, he merely glanced toward her from the corner of his eye, but the expression she wore gave him such hope, he wheeled around to face her, his countenance questioning as he asked earnestly, "May we begin again?"
She smiled more broadly, but then her eyes narrowed speculatively. "Perhaps – if you are able to meet my conditions," she answered, and he blinked in surprise.
"And what might those be?" he asked with caution, unconsciously taking a defensive step away from her.
She shrugged slightly and replied, "Only that you permit me to call you by name once more, and that you more freely share those lovely smiles of yours, for they are most endearing."
Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and he could not suppress the rush of relief that flooded him, nor the laugh that burst forth. "Quite the task master you are, I see, but I believe I am equal to the challenge," he answered, stepping in so close that it caused her breath to hitch. "However, in bowing to your demands, I reserve the right to make my own in return."
"Which are?" she inquired breathlessly, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than his lips hovering so tantalizingly above her.
"That you tell me amusing tales at every opportunity, in order to tease out those smiles you are so fond of witnessing, and that you favor your betrothed with frequent kisses to keep him in a smiling mood," he said softly, leaning toward her ear, but still refraining from actually touching her.
"But, Eomer, we are not betrothed," she murmured distractedly, earning her one of those smiles she relished.
"Not yet, my love, but very soon," he whispered, bringing his lips down on hers as he drew her into his arms. Her eager response left him in no doubt of her feelings in the matter, and something inside him loosened as a lifelong tenseness oozed out of him. Finally, after all these many years, he had found his home.
When the kiss ended, neither was inclined to leave the embrace, and they stood silently enjoying their newfound bliss. As Eomer held her, he reflected that she was so very young and he felt so very old, in a great many ways. But she also had wisdom and ability beyond her years, and when he was with her he felt younger, more carefree and full of hope than at any other time. Perhaps that was why – or at least partly – he had not been able to dismiss her so lightly as he had tried. At that thought, he smiled, and then leaned down to claim another kiss.
Morlach had grown impatient with standing still while the humans talked, and he now nudged inquisitively at Lothiriel's leg. With a laugh, she looked down at the little dog and remarked, "Someone is feeling left out! Shall we walk?"
Eomer nodded agreeably, wrapping an arm about her shoulders as they continued their trek back toward the castle. This time, comfortable silence enveloped them, but after several long minutes, Lothiriel reticently questioned, "May I ask you something?"
He chuckled, and gave her a wide grin along with a pointed look. "You have always spoken your mind to me quite freely before this. Why do you hesitate now?" At his response, she blushed and averted her eyes, but his voice softened as he assured her, "You may ask whatever you wish, beloved."
The endearment had the desired effect, and she smiled warmly up at him, making no effort to disguise the pleasure it gave her. After a moment, her expression sobered and she continued her previous thought. "Have…it seems that you have made peace with Lady Morwen. Is it so?"
He bowed his head thoughtfully and then nodded. "Yes. You were right from the very beginning. Knowing the full truth made a great deal of difference. And I will make sure that Eowyn knows it also. I cannot promise that it will matter in their relationship, but she needs to understand."
"I am glad," she told him earnestly. "I think now that Morwen's grief has eased over the past, she regrets being separated from you, especially since you and Eowyn are all the family that are left to her, and you have entered her life so unexpectedly. I hope Eowyn can also forgive her the choices she made."
He pulled her close into his embrace and kissed her hair. "Eowyn is very proud, but she is also fair. In time I think she will forgive. I only hope she does not wait so long that Morwen is gone before they can reconcile. Eowyn needs this conflict to be ended as much as Morwen does."
They had begun walking again before she ventured more. "Eomer…are you…certain about this, about me? When you approached me before you were clearly indifferent to–"
He cut her off with a kiss, and only after he felt her relax into his embrace did he slowly end it. Now he saw that her earlier question had been a retreat from what she truly wanted to ask, but had feared to do so. Locking gazes with her he avowed, "I am certain. I was tired and distracted before, and I judged you in haste – something I have a tendency to do, as you noted." He chuckled, and she grinned in response before he continued, "You opened my eyes to many truths, not the least of which were my feelings for you. This may well be the most right and certain thing I have ever done in the course of my life. Never doubt that. Never!" His arms tightened around her, and she gladly took her place in them.
Between conversation and kisses, their progress along the beach took longer than it ordinarily would have, though neither particularly minded the delay. As they left the beach, however, both automatically stepped a little apart from one another. It was not impossible that they had been seen embracing on the shore, but until Eomer spoke to Imrahil they chose to conduct themselves appropriately so as to avoid curious questions.
Even so, once Morlach had been returned to the kennels and they entered the castle, their first encounter was with Faramir. As greetings were exchanged, the Steward's eyes suddenly narrowed as his gaze flicked between them, followed by a brief smile tweaking his mouth. Despite any suspicions, however, he made no comment and the three parted ways soon after.
They had returned just in time to wash for supper, and as he did Eomer suddenly realized he had forgotten to give Lothiriel the love spoon. It hadn't been needed to prove his sincerity, but as he drew it from his boot he determined to give it anyway. Growing up, he had always thought the practice somewhat silly, but now that he had found love it did not seem so. He ran a finger thoughtfully over the emblems, musing that perhaps men did this to say what they could never seem to find the words to speak. He certainly felt inadequate to vowing his love for a woman, but his handiwork seemed sufficiently eloquent to make up for any lack on his part. He smiled again and slipped the token back into his boot. He would have to look for an appropriate moment to present it. It was not something to be shoved hastily into a woman's hand.
Eomer had not been oblivious to the expression on Faramir's face, and correctly interpreted it as an indication that the Steward suspected matters had been resolved between Eomer and Lothiriel. But Eomer did not especially like being predictable, so at supper he paid no particular attention to Lothiriel, nor did he request an audience with Imrahil as would be expected. His eyes had locked once, briefly, with Lothiriel's, and a glint there persuaded him she had detected what he was doing and was greatly amused by it. But as he sensed no objection or censure on her part, he continued on his course, pretending not to notice Faramir's growing confusion.
It had become a familiar pattern in the evenings to adjourn to the library for conversation and music, with Lothiriel splitting her time between performing and instructing Eowyn. Again, Eomer conversed with various friends, but made no advances that singled out Imrahil for a private discussion, and by the end of the evening he had the satisfaction of noting Faramir apparently deciding he had been mistaken earlier.
However, Eomer's habit of rising early had given him plenty of opportunity to learn the usual patterns of the household. Though Imrahil sometimes came late to the morning table, it was generally due to his conducting business first and thus being delayed, rather than his being slow to waken. Knowing that, Eomer did not hesitate to knock at his door quite early, and was admitted to find a very surprised friend.
"Eomer! To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Imrahil asked, leaning back in his chair. Before Eomer could respond, he gave a wave of his hand and added apologetically, "Please excuse my attire. I tend to dress in fits and starts as I write out my correspondence of a morning. You caught me before I had finished the process."
The king grinned, reassuring him, "Not at all – I know I am calling on you well before the official start of your day, but I had hoped for a few moments of your time." He glanced significantly at the waiting manservant, indicating his wish for a private conversation, and Imrahil dismissed the man, asking that he return in a quarter of an hour.
"So, what is this about, my friend?" Imrahil asked, gesturing to a nearby chair. "Not that I am displeased. We have had little time to talk while you have been here, and you will be leaving us soon. I hope you have enjoyed your stay."
"Very much so, especially now," Eomer acknowledged, causing the Prince's eyebrow to quirk questioningly. "I…" Eomer had taken a seat, but now stood and paced to the window before continuing. After a moment, he turned with determination. "I would ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. She has accepted my offer." A bit blunt, but there seemed little point in beating around the bush.
"Indeed…" Imrahil said, clearly stunned. "I…was not aware the two of you were romantically inclined toward one another. In fact, I thought I detected a bit of…coolness in your manners when the two of you were together. Is there more that I should know?"
Eomer drew a deep breath and slowly let it out, then nodded. "Likely so. Just before Eowyn's wedding," he confessed, "I proposed to Lothiriel, but at the time I was only interested in a marriage of alliance and had no particular feelings for her. She refused me." Imrahil's eyebrows shot into his hairline, but Eomer raised a hand to stop him when he would have commented. "Hear me out, then you may speak." Crossing his hands behind him, he continued, "Lothiriel was right to act as she did, for I was not thinking rationally, and was not ready for marriage. But since that time, I have come to see things more clearly, and to value Lothiriel for all the wonderful things that she is. I hurt her with my haste, but I swear to you I will strive never to do so again."
Imrahil sat lost in thought, digesting this information in shocked silence. At length, he murmured, "Well! Well, if my daughter is satisfied with your offer, then I cannot oppose it. I should be delighted to count you as a son." He smiled warmly and rose to embrace the younger man. "Happy day, indeed, when the house of Eorl rode into view at dawn!"
The two grinned at one another, but then Eomer requested, "I would ask you not to speak of this just yet. There is one more thing I wish to do before it is announced. I believe you will know when the time is right."
"Very well, my friend, but do not wait too long. All will wish to rejoice in this excellent news!" his friend chuckled.
A knock at the door signaled the return of the servant, and the two men walked toward it together. "I will see you at break of fast, then," Eomer told him, stepping into the hall as the servant entered.
"At breakfast," Imrahil acknowledged, still beaming, and watching for several seconds as Eomer departed down the hallway.
The next step in Eomer's plan took a little more effort. He hovered near the breakfast chamber door, watching for Lothiriel's arrival. She always sat in the same chair, and so he had claimed the spot to the right of it by laying his riding gloves on the table. No one seemed to think it unusual, just as he had anticipated.
Once Lothiriel, Faramir, Eowyn, Erchirion and Morwen arrived, they all began to seat themselves, not waiting for the others. Often Amrothos trickled in during the middle of the meal and they could never be sure when Imrahil would put in appearance. Each dished food onto their plates as queries were exchanged about how the others had slept and what were their plans for the day. When Lothiriel looked down, however, she noticed that she had no eating utensils at her place – very odd, for the servants were usually quite diligent. She glanced about, not wanting to draw notice to the problem, but it was evident everyone had them except her. She lifted her napkin as she considered what to do, but in doing so she glimpsed something under it – a small, intricately carved wooden spoon lay there, and she took it into her hand to examine more closely.
A slow smile lit her face as she traced a forefinger over the designs on it, her food utterly forgotten. Morwen had mentioned these, even shown her the one that Thengel had given prior to their betrothal, but Lothiriel had never thought to receive one herself. She pressed her lips tightly together, but even that gesture would not stay the tiny tear that trickled from her eye. She brushed it away, finally raising her gaze from the spoon, only to discover the entire table staring at her, as were her father and Amrothos who had arrived in the doorway. The giddy grins they all wore convinced her they, too, understood the significance of this object.
She turned to smile lovingly at the man beside her, then impulsively leaned and kissed his cheek, earning her a winning smile from him. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, I accept your token and your offer, my love."
Her action broke the spell and everyone began to talk excitedly all at once, no one really hearing what anyone else was saying. Through it all Morwen sat serenely, smiling with approval at the couple seated across from her. At length, Eomer asked her, "Is this what you were suggesting when you recommended I choose wisely?"
She laughed lightly at the question. "Not specifically, no, but I cannot say that I think you mistook my meaning. Almost from the first, I believed you would make a fine couple, perfectly complementing one another. I just was not certain you would reach that same conclusion."
Eomer slipped an arm about Lothiriel's shoulders, and she leaned into him despite the awkwardness while seated. "The truth of it is, despite my protestations to the contrary, I have met no one else who I would even have considered for a moment. Perhaps I offered in advance of my developing affection, but I think some part of me knew that it could only be Lothiriel."
Morwen gave a nod of approbation at his words while Lothiriel fought to suppress more tears of joy. Neither noticed that Eowyn had become aware of the cordial exchange taking place, and was staring at her brother with undisguised astonishment. Lothiriel's family took Eowyn's expression to be a reflection of her surprise at Eomer's way of announcing the betrothal, but Faramir surmised differently. He had felt Eowyn tense beside him and go silent; following her gaze that twitched between Eomer and Lady Morwen, he could easily determine her thoughts. To her credit, however, she kept silent and did not disrupt the happy celebration that had formed over the meal.
TBC
Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.
Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen
Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)
Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen
Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen
Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen
Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog
Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)
Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant
Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman
Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer
Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle
Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):
Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.
ch 10: (8)Based on Welsh love spoons. Google it if you've never seen one.