Lothíriel soon heard of the plan of the Captains of the West. When Erchirion broke the news to her, she remained in a thoughtful silence and only mentioned that they better come back in one piece.
Two days after her father and brothers departed, Lothíriel arrived at the Houses of Healing only to find out that the Lady Éowyn, the woman of Rohan, had been assigned to her care as long as Lady Éowyn needed her. She was pleased. Lothíriel heard Éowyn was somewhere in her mid-twenties. That meant that the age difference might allow a friendship.
When she entered, Lady Éowyn asked, "Do you have any clothing for me to wear? I am tired of spending the day in a nightgown."
"You seem about my height and build," Lothíriel responded, "so if you wait a few moments, I shall bring you some."
As she exited the Houses of Healing, one of the other female healers hissed, "What are you thinking, Lothíriel? The lady is supposed to remain in bed for another seven days."
"That may be so, but I would soon weary of spending my days in a nightdress," Lothíriel answered.
She soon returned with a clean gown. After Éowyn dressed, Lothíriel tended to Éowyn's broken arm and placed it in a sling. With a word of thanks, Éowyn departed to find the Warden.
The days passed. Éowyn moved to a room that faced the east. Lothíriel noted Faramir's walks with Éowyn as they both healed in body. Whether they realized it, she suspected they healed each other's spirits. Faramir seemed to be much less…burdened. Or at least, the burdens did not affect him too much. And Éowyn. Well, she appeared less…stony and forlorn when with Faramir. Yes, she could see both Éowyn and Faramir sharing life together.
How great the city's rejoicing when news of the war's ending arrived on the wings of a great eagle a week after the Captains of the West set forth. Lothíriel found herself back in the Citadel, helping Faramir plan the coronation of the king. She also aided him in organizing the cleaning up the first circle. She left the ceremony to Faramir while she dealt with the smaller details of the celebration following the ceremony. At the same time, she welcomed citizens as they quickly drifted back to Minas Tirith.
A few days later while visiting the Houses of Healing, Éowyn stopped Lothíriel. She said simply, "You must be Faramir's cousin. As you are the only relative of his present, I wish you to be the first to hear. Faramir has brought me the greatest joy and a new appreciation for life, which we shall share together."
Lothíriel smiled radiantly while saying, "My congratulations, Lady Éowyn! Faramir hardly speaks of his…personal life, and I am glad to hear the news from you."
"Thank you," laughed Éowyn. "I hope we shall become closer than friends."
Very quickly, the two women became like sisters. They often spoke of the different customs and lifestyles between Gondor and Rohan. They also exchanged childhood experiences. However, Lothíriel never revealed her encounter with Calacondo and resulting meetings. It just was not yet time for those stories to be revealed.
Spring quickly settled in Gondor. That meant the palace underwent a thorough cleaning. The gardens also wanted a good deal attention. Lothíriel directed the gardens' restoration, often helping pulling weeds or planting new flowers. After spending one morning with the gardeners, she returned to the palace to check the progress. Eventually, her duties were concluded. The housekeeper practically kicked her out of the palace when her tour was finished. She paced to the house, intending to change into something clean before visiting some of her widow-friends. As she climbed up to her room, the voices of a protesting child and a gentle restraining response met her ear. She also heard the quiet movements of another person. Entering her parents' room, Lothíriel found her mother unpacking her trunk.
"Mother," she cried, "when did you arrive?"
"This morning, dear child," her mother laughed. "My, you have grown in height, and hopefully in spirit." She examined her daughter's joyful face. "Is there something troubling you? You have a sort of haunted look in your eye. Have been sleeping well?"
Lothíriel responded. "My sleeping habits have been healthy. I just have so much more time to consider the past. Especially of certain occurrences."
Her mother said encouragingly, "What occurrences, daughter?"
"Remember my dream-like happenstances with Éomer of Rohan?" Her mother nodded. "Well, he is now the King of Rohan because his uncle, Théoden, perished in the Battle of Pelennor Fields."
Her mother said softly, "And this information you know because you have seen him."
"What should I do? He knows that Lothíriel exists, but he does not know that the same Lothíriel is the girl he met years ago."
"Here then is my advice: Do not be afraid of him finding out the truth. It may be for the best that he figures out the connections."
Lothíriel shrugged. An irrational fear most likely caused her to shy away from meeting Elmer in person. But then, there might be a legitimate reason.
The days drew closer to King Aragorn's coronation. The council insisted Lothíriel's mother take over the duties of preparing for so momentous an event. Lothíriel humbly complied and quickly found activities to fill up her time. Whenever she was not visiting some old widow, Lothíriel was seen galloping through the fields of Pelennor, now green with seedlings and young grass shoots. Sometimes, she rode to Osgiliath to oversee shipments of goods to be sent. Now and then, she spent the day with harpers from Dol Amroth since she desired to refresh her harp skills after years of nonpractice. Although she was officially nothing more than the daughter of Prince Imrahil, she found work in participating in the lives of the people.
Four nights after the victory of the West found Éomer sitting in his tent, distractedly polishing his sword for the hundredth time. He mused over the past few months. So much has occurred. He never dreamed that his uncle could be healed, yet he was. He never expected to become King of Rohan, and here he was, just that. At times, he wished fate did not turn out the way it did, but there was not much he could do to change it.
"A messenger brought you a letter," said Eothain, interrupting Éomer's thoughts. "By the way, you might want to put up your sword before you wear the metal out."
Éomer seized the missive and read through her sister's words. After finishing it, he sighed morosely.
"Is everything alright?" Eothain queried carefully.
Éomer answered, "She is healing very well in spirit, all thanks to the Steward of the City. However, she begs leave to remain in Minas Tirith instead of coming here."
Eothain nodded and seated himself beside his friend and king. "Is there anything else?"
"Hmmm, most of this letter is general enough for other ears. Yes, she noted she and the daughter of Imrahil are now good friends. Other than that, not much else I will share with you."
Eothain shrugged and said lightly, "Well, I best be off to checking the horses. Maybe you ought to spend the evening with the jovial sons of Imrahil or anybody, for that matter. Might be harmful if you sat here, brooding."
Éomer chuckled and chose to brood. Memories of the past filtered into his thoughts. Gradually, that girl he met years ago became the primary focus of his mind. Théodred called her a dream. Sometimes, he thought so as well. On their last encounter, she disappeared with his handkerchief. If she was not real, he would have found it in the hay where she sat. For that reason, he hoped the girl existed because she alone piqued his notice. He was now certain that she was of noble Gondorian birth. Her manner and speech was akin to Prince Imrahil and other lords.
Author's Note: And that's the tenth chapter! What do you think of the story so far? Please don't be shy about reviewing. Any constructive criticism and encouragement is very welcome! I must confess, the chapters about the war could have been better written. As for this chapter, it feels rushed, but I honestly have no clue as to how to slow down. If you have some pointers about that, do let me know.