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Chapter 11

(14 June 3019 III)

Not surprisingly, Lothiriel slept far into the morning. Eowyn or Eomer must have instructed the servants not to disturb her, for the sun was well up when at last she rose. It had not seemed as though her exertions had been terribly strenuous the previous day, but apparently the cumulative effect had taken a toll. She decided she would try to have a leisurely day and then go back to working in the garden. And she wanted to seek out Seftehad, too. They could arrange to work on her dress. Perhaps they could start that since sewing should not be tiring.

Most of the injured from the previous night had already departed, though the cots had not yet been put away. The few who remained had been moved over to the side and surrounded by screens to afford privacy.

Breakfast was long over, but as dinner was not near enough, she ventured to the kitchens to get bread and fruit to tide her over. Seftehad was there, cutting up vegetables for the stew at noon day, and Lothiriel settled into a chair to talk to her while she worked and Lothiriel ate.

"Ceorl is well? He said his injury was not serious, but men will never admit when they are hurt."

Seftehad laughed. "True. But he is well enough. The healer cleaned and bandaged it. He said for Ceorl to return tomorrow to have him take another look and be sure it is not infected."

"So, when would you like to meet and work on your dress?" Lothiriel asked, popping the last bite of bread into her mouth.

Seftehad hands stilled over her work. "You were serious about that?" She did not look at Lothiriel.

"Of course I was! You need help, I can sew and Ceorl has been very kind to me. Three very good reasons for me to offer my assistance. That is, if you wish it. Perhaps you prefer to do it entirely on your own?"

"Oh, no!" Seftehad whirled to look at her. "I should indeed like your help, would be very grateful to have it. Much as I wanted to do it all on my own, it has not been going well. Either I let someone help me or I give up on the dress entirely. At the rate I am going, I will not finish it before both of us are dead and gone."

Lothiriel smiled. "I doubt you are that bad, but perhaps I can guide you sufficiently that you may do most of it yourself, at least enough to satisfy you."

"I…I am done working around three this afternoon. Ceorl will not be finished with his shift until suppertime. We could meet in between."

"That would be fine. After yesterday, I look forward to a less arduous day. I may simply read until then, or do the mending I managed to talk Durucwen into giving me. Where shall we meet? In your room or mine? Or I could see if Eowyn would let us use her sitting room. There is a large table in there."

"I share my room with two others. It is crowded if they are there, and I would not want to displace them. I could come either place that you prefer." It was evident to Lothiriel that Seftehad was reluctant to impose on anyone.

Lothiriel stood. "I will speak with Eowyn and then let you know where we will work. I am looking forward to this! Mending is needful, but sewing wedding clothes is simple pleasure!" Seftehad beamed at her before turning back to her work.

That settled, Lothiriel wandered back to the main hall in search of Eowyn. She was not in sight, so Lothiriel continued out to the terrace for the fresh air. The smell of smoke yet hung in the air, though she could not discern any sign of smoke rising from the direction of the burned ruins. She wondered what would become of those who were displaced by the loss of the buildings. She had heard that at least one of them was a home.

Voices drew her attention and she spotted Eomer at the foot of the stairs talking to a group of men. He appeared to be giving instructions for a moment later they nodded and departed. Eomer began the climb up to Meduseld, only noticing her when he was nearly to the top.

"Good morning. I hope you slept well."

Lothiriel smiled and nodded. "I did, thank you. And thank you for allowing me to sleep in. I was more tired than I realized."

"Yes, it catches up to you unexpectedly after such events."

"What happens now, with the buildings that were lost?" she asked.

He turned to look down the hill, presumably toward the destruction. "They have already begun to pull down the burned timbers and haul them away. Once the area is cleared, we will rebuild. We will need every available building to get us through the winter. We cannot afford to lose those."

"One was a home. What were the others?"

"A small stable off the house and a neighboring storage shed."

"Do they know what caused it?"

Eomer sighed. "It is not certain, but we have seen similar fires before. Likely it was caused by hay that was harvested before it was fully dry. Fortunately, there was not a great deal of hay in the barn so there was less fuel to feed it."

Lothiriel's brow creased. "Damp hay caused a fire? How is that possible? I would think the moisture would prevent it."

"No. Heat is generated by the fermenting that happens. The drier the hay is when stacked, the less chance that will happen. But it is not always possible to get hay as dry as we would like due to changing weather. Sometimes we must gather it early or risk getting it soaked and mildewing."

"What of the people who lived in the house? Are they safe?"

"Yes. They were able to escape unharmed, other than breathing in the smoke."

Lothiriel frowned. "If it is not one problem, it is another. It is unfair that you should have to cope with this in the midst of all your other worries."

Eomer smiled at her. "I thank you for your concern, but unfair or not it is all a part of life. A life we are very familiar with in the Riddermark. These situations are not as uncommon as you might think."

"Well, if there is aught I may do to be of assistance, please do not hesitate to make it known. I feel guilty sitting idle when all around me have their hands full with work to be done."

Eomer looked down. "I know you have been frustrated by that. It is just difficult for us to feel comfortable asking for your help. We are too used to doing for ourselves, and rather disinclined in particular to beg help of a noblewoman of Gondor if we can manage on our own. I realize it is strange to you."

"Then you must stop thinking of me as a noblewoman of Gondor. Eowyn is to marry Faramir, who is my cousin. That makes me a cousin to Eowyn. Since you are her brother, that also makes me a cousin to you. Surely you would not refuse to let your cousin help you, would you?"

Eomer laughed loudly, drawing the gaze of the door guards for the unexpected outburst. "I cannot deny you have interesting reasoning. I will see what I can do, Cousin, to make more use of you!"

She curtsied to him. "Thank you!"

He nodded farewell and moved on inside Meduseld, still chuckling. The sound lightened Lothiriel's heart. If she could not do anything tangible to help, she was pleased to at least provide the king with a spot of humor as a respite from his troubles.

xx

Lothiriel almost missed hearing the hesitant tap at the door. Looking up, she smiled at Seftehad, standing uncertainly in the doorway. "Come in, come in!"

Seftehad seemed overwhelmed at entering Eowyn's sitting room for other than household duties. To distract her from any discomfort, Lothiriel reached for the fabric in her arms and spread it on the table. "Now, show me what you had in mind."

With a pronounced blush, Seftehad produced a piece of paper from her pocket. "I…I sketched it out. But it isn't turning out like the picture."

Lothiriel smoothed the paper out on the table and eyed it critically. "You draw quite well," she commented with slight surprise.

The blush deepened in Seftehad's cheeks. Red-heads were not good at hiding their emotions. "Thank you."

Once she had the general idea, Lothiriel set the paper aside and spread out the material to see what progress had already been made. The initial outline of the various pieces were cut, though not entirely symmetrically. As yet, nothing had been stitched together – that was good. It would allow her to tidy the pieces first. She picked up the back section and held it up to Sefethad's back. "Hold these," she instructed, indicating where the pieces came up onto the woman's shoulders. Next she picked up the front piece and matched it to the back. Slowly she began pinning so as to know where to make the cuts yet have the pieces fit in the finished dress.

They had worked for some time before Lothiriel stopped and sat down, studying the picture Seftehad had drawn and the material the woman was wearing over her clothes. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, then said tentatively, "I am not sure we can precisely follow what you envision on paper. If we did, it would make the dress quite snug, and I do not think you want to be fidgeting with your clothes on your wedding day."

"But it is over other clothes now. Wouldn't it be looser on its own?"

Lothiriel shook her head. "Yes, somewhat, but not enough. I will need to make cuts to even the pieces and that will make it more snug."

Seftehad's face fell, but Lothiriel waved her over to join her at the table. With a pen from Eowyn's desk, she made indications on the drawing. "We could leave the sides open, and close them with laces on each side. You will be wearing it over your undergown anyway. And, with laces, if you were to have children they could be adjusted to allow for your expanding middle, making the dress more functional to you after the wedding."

It was evident that Seftehad continued to be disappointed at not being able to create exactly what she had imagined, but finally she nodded. "I am sure you know better than I do about stitching and sewing. If you say that would be better, I will trust your judgement."

They worked a while longer, but as it was nearing suppertime and they had reached a stopping point, they decided to continue the next day. Since Eowyn had graciously said they could use the sitting room as long as they liked, Lothiriel set all the material and sewing tools at the ready for the next session before they departed.

As the two women were returning to the main hall, they heard horns blowing. Lothiriel glanced at Seftehad questioningly, but she only shook her head. "I don't recognize them. It does not sound like our horns. Maybe someone is coming to visit?"

When they stepped into the hall, a messenger was coming in the front doors and making for Eomer and Gamling who had entered near the throne. The two women stood watching to see what was happening. In the midst of the conversation, that they could not hear, Eowyn arrived and went to join her brother. An instant later, all three headed for the main doors, with the messenger trailing behind them. As they drew near, Eowyn signaled for Lothiriel to come with her.

"I will let you know what I find out," she whispered to Seftehad before hastening to Eowyn's side.

"We have unexpected visitors," Eowyn said as they moved along. "A great riding of Elves has appeared from the north."

"Elves? Why would they be coming here?"

Eowyn shrugged. "We do not yet know the particulars, but… Well, we shall find out soon enough."

Lothiriel wondered what she had been about to add; she suspected that Eowyn had a pretty good guess as to the occasion of the visit.

Eomer had taken up position on the terrace, and Eowyn and Lothiriel fell in on his right hand. A servant turned up just then, bearing a tray and the welcome cup that Lothiriel had seen before, and whose purpose had been explained to her.

They could see from this vantage that there were quite a number of Elves, but most did not enter the town itself. Instead, they looked to be setting up a camp north of the barrowfields. A small group had split off from the main body and was riding all the way up to Meduseld.

Lothiriel had never seen Elves in person before, but even from a distance she could tell that all she had heard about their fabled beauty was not exaggerated. In particular, there rode a dark-haired woman, sitting serenely next to an older man. These two were flanked by a couple with golden and silver hair, and the woman was almost equally as beautiful as the darker one. For a moment, their magnificence made Lothiriel want to avert her eyes, even while they were riveted on the visitors.

At first unnoticed, when the party stopped, they realized a pair of men – twins – rode behind the foursome. "Elladan and Elrohir" Lothiriel heard Eomer murmur. Apparently not all of these surprise guests were unknown to the king.

"They rode with Aragorn," Eowyn whispered to her in explanation. "He called them his brothers."

Ah. Eomer had mentioned them before, though not given their names.

The party had dismounted and was walking – no gliding – up the steps, for Lothiriel did not recall ever seeing anyone move as these Elves did. Were their feet even touching the steps?

One of the twins stepped forward to offer introductions. "Eomer King, may I present my father, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, and my sister, Arwen. Also, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lorien, my grandparents. This is Eomer King, ruler of the Riddermark."

Arwen dipped a graceful curtsy as Elrond nodded, saying, "My apologies for this intrusion. We travel to Minas Tirith from Lorien, and Edoras was on our way. My sons wished us to stop and give greeting."

"You are most welcome, I assure you. How many of your party require rooms? I will have that seen to immediately."

Elrond replied, "If you can accommodate me, my daughter and my in-laws, my sons are well able to stay in the camp with the rest of our party. We do not wish to burden you with our visit when it was not expected."

"Friends are never a burden," Eomer assured them. He gestured to Eowyn, who stepped forward with the welcome cup, offering the traditional greeting. After each of the Elves had drunk, she stepped back and Eomer introduced, "My sister, Eowyn, and Lady Lothiriel of Dol Amroth."

"Dol Amroth?" one of the twins asked. "Daughter of Imrahil?"

"The same," Lothiriel said smiling. "And you are?"

"Elrohir, and my brother Elladan. I forget that only Eomer has met us before, though we did glimpse Lady Eowyn at Dunharrow, and some once or twice at the White City. But how come you to be here?"

Lothiriel chewed her lip while trying to think how to answer, but Eomer interjected, "A rather long story, my friend, and one that can be told when we are all more comfortable than standing on the terrace." He gestured toward the doors, "Please, come inside and I will have refreshments served while your rooms are being readied."

Eomer led the way, but Eowyn pulled Lothiriel aside while the Elves followed the King inside. "Do you mind sharing my room again temporarily. We do not have a great many guest rooms in Meduseld, and since Eomer has not yet moved into the King's chambers, we have even fewer."

"Of course. I will get my clothes and move them directly while someone changes the bed."

Since it was very near to suppertime, only drinks were served to the Elves, and they settled in Eomer's study for quiet conversation. When Lothiriel joined them, she rather wondered if it bothered Eomer to lose time he had intended to spend working, but if it did, he gave no indication of it. Indeed, at least with the twins with whom he seemed well acquainted, he was obviously quite pleased by the visit. The other Elves were quieter and participated less in the conversation, though their keen manner suggested they missed little of what was going on.

At length, Eowyn voiced what all of the Rohan party had been wondering. "What brings you to the Riddermark just now? I had not heard mention that you were expected in Gondor, but perhaps you wish to go and join in the celebrations of victory. Faramir's last letter indicated they were still taking place, though less frequently and less boisterously."

"We are expected in Gondor only by one person. Though perhaps it is more a hope than an expectation," Galadriel observed, providing no real answer to the question.

Arwen laughed. "I sent the banner. I am sure he knows that I will come in due course, though the date might be in question."

"Aragorn?" Eowyn asked, knowing full well she was correct.

"Yes," Arwen said, gazing at her perceptively and causing Eowyn to glance away.

"The dwarf Gimli spoke of you, while he was here, though he believed you were departing with your kin to the Undying Lands. He indicated the green stone Aragorn wore was a gift from you."

"In a roundabout manner, yes. It was passed down to me from my grandmother" – she nodded toward Galadriel – "and then I returned it to her that she might give it to Aragorn when he stopped in Lorien."

"You go to be wed," Eowyn stated, certain though no one had said it explicitly.

"I do." Arwen did not bandy words.

"Then he will be pleased. And a queen beside him will help as he takes on the role of King," Eomer interjected before a lull could make anyone uncomfortable. He did not notice the grin that flickered over his sister's face at his remark.

Lothiriel still found herself in awe of such companions. Elves were from legends, not those who dined with you and shared quiet conversation. For one thing, though, she was grateful – that neither of the twins rebroached the subject of how she came to be in Rohan. If they must ask, let them do it when she was absent. She was not comfortable with that discussion.

xxxxx

It had come out the previous evening that the Elves intended to remain a full day, to rest themselves and their horses, before continuing on their journey. Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel mostly kept to themselves after sharing the morning meal. As the twins had not come to join them, that would leave Eomer free to work, if Arwen was attended to also. Knowing Eowyn had plenty to do, Lothiriel offered to show her around Meduseld and the town, and it was clear the siblings appreciated the gesture when Arwen accepted.

They began with Meduseld, though there was not a great deal more to be seen than what had already been glimpsed in passing. The tapestries had garnered interest the previous night and been explained to the guests, and they had seen the entirety of the main hall. Lothiriel did lead her along the hallway pointing out any communal rooms.

"This is Eowyn's sitting room," Lothiriel indicated through the open door. "I am sure you are welcome to make use of it while you are here."

Arwen strolled past her to where the fabric was laid out. "And what is this? Eowyn is sewing a dress?"

"Oh, no. One of the servants will wed soon, and was making her dress, but she does not sew well. I offered to help her. Eowyn lets us work in here whenever Seftehad is available."

Arwen picked up the picture from the table. After studying it and then looking over the fabric, she remarked, "You drew this picture?"

"No, Seftehad did that. I am not one for drawing."

"Surely this is not the dress you are making. There is not enough fabric."

"No. Had I met Seftehad sooner, before she attempted to cut out the dress herself, it might have been possible, but with the corrections I needed to make it would not work. What you see is the compromise I suggested for using her fabric, but making it suffice as an overdress."

"As a servant, it is doubtful she will have material of good quality to make a fine underdress to go with it."

Lothiriel was beginning to realize that Arwen was well familiar with the intricacies of sewing. "That is true. If I had any of my own dresses here, I would offer one of those to her. But, as it is, I am wearing clothing borrowed from Eowyn. I do not like to impose more on the King's household by begging further favors."

Arwen straightened and smiled at her. "Yet the desire to offer is commendable." She began moving toward the door, and Lothiriel took that as her signal to continue on with the tour of Meduseld.

Their walk through the town proved nearly as uneventful, save for all the curious looks from townsfolk.

"You are quite at home here," Arwen noted with a smile. "I might have expected a woman of Gondor to find this place too foreign to her experience."

"It is different, yes, than what I knew at home. But the people have been most welcoming and generous. Difference is not necessarily bad. Hopefully, as the King's wife, you will find that to be true as well."

"Indeed!" Arwen's eyes lit with amusement. "For me and for the Gondorians. But, eventually, I feel sure we will all become accustomed to one another."

Lothiriel smiled. "It is not as though we do not have tales of Men long associating with Elves throughout our history. Perhaps we are not used to it being a common occurrence as it once was, but neither are we complete strangers to one another."

"True. You perhaps more than most? I understand that legend has it your ancestors included an Elf."

"So it is said, though there is no proof for or against it. And the fact that we have a few similar characteristics lends it credence. If the old story is true, we are descended from an Elf-maiden named Mithrellas from Lorien."

A twinkle lit Arwen's eyes. "We could inquire of my grandmother. I have heard that she once dwelt near the Bay of Belfalas, and was acquainted with the Elves of Lorien who traveled to the harbor there."

Lothiriel laughed. "I do not know if I dare. Depending on her answer, I might make myself an enemy to those who wish to believe the stories!"

"You are not one of those who wish to accept it?"

"It is unimportant to me." She shrugged. "I am no Elf, regardless what my ancestry may be. If I have traits in common with the Eldar, then I am complimented, but beyond that no one would ever deem me one of your people."

Arwen smiled warmly. "That is very sensible of you, but have you no romantic notions? That is usually the reason people choose to favor such tales."

They continued walking as Lothiriel pondered the question. "I do, and I am flattered by the comparison, but I do not like to claim what is not rightfully mine. What have I done that the Elves might think me worthy to be one of them? Nothing. I have no great deeds or accomplishments in my life. Should I take credit for something over which I had no control or choice?"

"Very wise. If we will be praised let it be for our own merit."

Arwen's visage was inscrutable, a characteristic Lothiriel was beginning to think was common among Elves. While they could be very expressive when they chose, they were also very good at concealing their thoughts through an impassive air and ambiguous word choices.

To Lothiriel's relief, it was nearing the noon hour and Arwen suggested they return to the Hall. There was a disconcerting way about the Elf that prevented her being entirely comfortable in conversation with the woman. During the walk back up the hill, Arwen was silent and Lothiriel tried to pinpoint what it was that she found so unsettling. The woman had been perfectly friendly. It was more…the sense that Arwen saw and knew things about Lothiriel that could not have been learned in their short acquaintance. She had sometimes heard stories of Elves with foresight. Could Arwen possess that, and have knowledge of where Lothiriel's path was leading? Whether she did or not, it made her uneasy when Arwen scrutinized her.

Over supper, Elrond advised, "We will leave very early tomorrow, before first light. Please, make no special effort to see us off. We are well able to depart quietly without disturbing anyone. And then we shall see you again when you come to Minas Tirith."

Eowyn and Lothiriel shared a look, and then Eowyn suggested, "At least let me show one of you the way to the larder where you may get food to eat before being on your way. Though I am sure I could arrange to have a meal prepared for you."

"Do not trouble yourself." Galadriel had spoken little to any of them since arriving. They were startled by her doing so now. "Fruit and cheese will suffice, and we have lembas if we become hungry again later. Elrond assures me that he knows where our horses are stabled. We will be fine seeing to our own needs."

Eomer glanced at his sister, then told them, "As you wish. But should you change your mind in the morning, or find you require anything not at hand, there are always guards available. I will make sure they know to accommodate any of your requests, even to waking me or Eowyn if we have not risen."

xx

The Elves were as good as their word. They were gone well before dawn and even Eomer was not yet out of bed. The guards had witnessed the exodus, but they caused nary a ripple in the household at their going.

At breakfast, Lothiriel learned that they had also made themselves useful during their 'rest stop' at Edoras – many had assisted with the work of removing the burned buildings and framing timbers for the new structures.

"It saved us at least a couple days of work," Ceorl told her. "Eomer King was reluctant to allow it, but they insisted, and certainly the help was of great benefit to us."

"I have noticed that Eorlingas are reluctant to allow anyone to help them," Lothiriel teased, but Ceorl was regarding her remark with complete seriousness.

Finally, he replied, "We do not like to ask help of…outsiders. We are well willing to allow help from our fellow Eorlings. I suppose we simply do not like to feel indebted to others, and we prefer to take care of our own."

"Perhaps you should not see friends as outsiders. I know that in our recent history trust and friendship across borders has been tested. But now that the war is won and old ties renewed, surely we can all extend a helping hand, to anyone in need," Lothiriel said. "At least, I would hope that is true, or will become so. I have made good friends since coming to Rohan. I should not like to think any of my new friends could be suffering, and I would not be allowed to assist them if I had the means."

Ceorl eyed her pensively, then nodded. "Hopefully we will gradually begin to deem distant friends the same as those close to home. But I do not believe our thinking will change quickly in that regard."

He had finished his meal and rose. "Good day."

"Yes, good day to you also, Ceorl."

Most of the others were slowly finishing and going off to begin their day as well. She had in mind to work in the garden this morning, then perhaps Seftehad would be free in the afternoon that they could get back to sewing her dress. She quickly ate the last of her meal and hurried off to her chosen task.

It was good to be back in the garden again, but she took care to moderate her activities to keep from being overly tired later. With an effort, she managed to curb her tendency to overdo in her enthusiasm. The garden was shaping up very well. She needed to ask Eowyn about winters in the Mark, to determine what might be planted now without being killed by cold. Gardening was easier at home where she knew all the intricacies of weather that might affect her work.

Lothiriel had just washed and was returning to the main hall for dinner, when she again heard horns blowing. Every head in the hall turned toward the doors in curiosity. These sounded like the horns Lothiriel heard announcing Eomer's arrival, and she wondered who might be visiting now. She did not think Eomer had left the town – it would not be his return they were heralding.

A messenger entered the hall and went to meet Gamling, and Lothiriel waited to see what would happen now. To her surprise, Gamling looked up and and straight at her, a slight smile tweaking his mouth. He nodded to the messenger and then hastened off toward Eomer's study. Peculiar behavior, but she was hungry and no doubt would find out soon enough what was happening.

She had just poured ale for herself when Eomer and Eowyn entered and gestured for her to join them. Taking a hasty swallow of her drink, she rose. They were already moving toward the terrace, not waiting, leaving her to trail out some distance behind them. As she came to a stop beside Eowyn, she asked, "Who has—" Just at that moment, her eyes caught a glimpse of the banner the visitors bore, one she knew quite well – a silver swan-prowed ship on a blue field.

She searched the approaching riders, assuming it was her father, but only spotted Erchirion riding among the Swan Knights. Good enough. She tore down the steps as fast as she dared, not waiting for them to reach the top of the hill, or bothering with any decorum. Eomer and Eowyn would understand.

Erchirion nearly fell off his horse in his haste to reach her and they embraced one another fervently. No words were spoken; they were not needed just then. Without their notice, Eomer and Eowyn had joined them at the bottom of the steps, and when it was clear the reunited siblings would not release one another soon, Eomer chuckled. "When the two of you are done with your greeting, the rest of us will be waiting inside. Dinner is being served, if either of you cares about food just now." He turned away with a grin, dispatching men to get the riders and horses cared for, then dispersed the crowd of people that had gathered. The reunion did not require an audience.

The pair did finally draw back from their embrace, and Erchirion studied his sister's face, relieved that she looked calm and at peace. He had not been certain what the harrowing experience might do to her, but she appeared to have done well in coping with it.

Lothiriel smiled up at him and stepped to his side, wrapping her arm around his. "Come inside. We will eat and talk. You must tell me what all is happening in Gondor. Eomer and Eowyn told me what they could, but they have been gone from there for months now."

In the hall, several riders called out greetings to Erchirion, remembering him from being at Minas Tirith and he acknowledged them with a wave. Lothiriel led him to a table separate from where the others were seated, and then fetched plates of food over for them. When she returned for mugs of ale, she told the curious riders, "You may have him later – he is mine first!" They laughed in understanding as she went back to the other table.

Around their meal, they caught each other up on the events of recent months. "Amrothos and I were still out searching for you when Father received Eomer's letter. We did not learn of your safety for another couple of days. I understood why Father was willing to let you return with the Rohirrim next month, but I could not wait that long to see for myself that you were well. I convinced Father to let me come with a small party of guards."

"It was not necessary," Lothiriel assured him, "but I am pleased to have you here all the same. Our northern friends have taken excellent care of me ever since we first met. Have no fear."

"I do not doubt that, though I am surprised you did not want to come directly home. Surely Eomer could have spared someone to bring you."

"Erchirion, it was my decision, not Eomer's. If I had truly wanted to return at once, he would have accommodated me, but I could not justify taking away men he needed here. And I certainly could not be so ungracious as to not offer my assistance in any way possible."

Eomer came up and seated himself with them just then. "We have greatly benefited by your sister's willingness to linger in Rohan. She has offered suggestions for our recovery, restored Meduseld's garden and even helped to tend those injured during a recent fire. And now she is assisting someone with a dress."

Lothiriel blushed. Eomer was exaggerating her accomplishments, but she decided not to argue the point. She returned to her meal to avoid having to speak.

Erchirion's eyes flicked between his sister and the young King who had turned to smile fondly at her. Interesting. Praise. Blushing. Fond gazes. Obviously more had happened in the past month than had been mentioned by either. Watching them carefully, he realized that was because neither seemed to have acknowledged more existed between them, even to themselves. Well, certainly Father would not be disappointed if this all ended with a marriage. He had liked Eomer; they all had. And it would be a good match for Lothiriel. He could not say he had ever been thrilled with her prospects among the noblemen in Gondor. There was nothing particularly wrong with them exactly, but he just had never felt that any of them suited his sister. Seeing the easiness between her and Eomer was…satisfying. Yes, this could have a very pleasing outcome.

"Then I am glad that you stayed, Lothiriel, but tending the injured? When have you ever known about healing?" Erchirion took a bite of bread, watching her closely.

She blushed again. "I have not, as you well know, but I was needed, therefore I made myself available. I am perfectly able to follow instructions from those who do know about care of the injured." She wrinkled her nose at him.

Eomer chuckled as he rose again. "Indeed. And sometimes willing hands are of the most use. But, if you will excuse me, I must get back to my advisors."

The siblings murmured goodbye as he moved away and then went back to their conversation. Just as they finished their meal, Eowyn joined them. "A room is ready for your brother, Lothiriel. The room just to the right of yours as you face the door. His baggage is already there."

"Thank you, Eowyn." Looking to her brother, she asked, "Do you wish to rest a while, or shall we walk about town and let you see the place for yourself?"

"Oh, certainly, I wish to see Edoras," Erchirion replied, rising. "Lead the way."

Summer was clearly upon them; the sun shone brightly above and the ever-present wind was now welcome as they strolled along. Even having not seen one another for several months, Lothiriel found it surprising that they never lacked topics to discuss. News from Gondor was of course welcome, but she drank in whatever her brother told her of home and her family. If anything, Erchirion's presence made her miss their family all the more. She would have expected it to ease the homesickness rather than making it worse.

When finally they turned back toward Meduseld, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Erchirion watched his sister from the corner of his eye whenever he could. She was changed, though he was not sure he could point to a specific difference. She had perhaps matured, as would be expected with all she had been through of late, but it was more than that. Perhaps with further observation he could determine what it was that he was noticing.

Lothiriel guided him on a quick tour of the Meduseld hall before leading him to his room to wash and get settled in. She continued on to her own room, remembering once she was inside that she had intended to spend the afternoon working on Seftehad's dress. With the return to Gondor fast approaching, the loss of another day was disppointing. Tomorrow. She would definitely make sure she worked on it tomorrow. Now that he had been shown around and they had talked, Erchirion could manage on his own.

TBC

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Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg

Ceorl – rider of Rohan, in Eomer's company (a ceorl was an independent peasant landowner; also contains the element éo meaning "horse")

Glydged – "slippery speech" – stableman at Aldburg who was injured in the war

Wídfara - may mean something like "far traveller" or "wide wanderer"; he was a Rider of Rohan and fought on the Pelennor, but now has taken over running the inn from his aged father.

Lachthoniel – "flame kindler" – waspish woman in Minas Tirith who is eager to gossip

Blidhe – "gentle, kind" - servant girl at Aldburg who attends Lothiriel

Metehad – "small person" – servant girl at Meduseld who attends Lothiriel

Borduin – "faithful river" – elderly servant in Lossarnach who was struck down by the bandits when Lothiriel was kidnapped

Belthoniel – "kindler of strength" [Bell (or bel) – strong; -thoniel – kindler (fem.)] – servant in Lossarnach with healing skills; in this story, she is a sister of Ioreth

Seftehad – "pleasant person" – Ceorl's betrothed

Cielbrand – "cold sword" – Rider who rode with Ceorl in showing Dunharrow to Lothiriel

Heorleod – "pleasant man" – minstrel who was at Minas Tirith for battle and learned Gondorian music

Madalwin – "meeting friend" – one of Eomer's advisers who tries to suggest Lothiriel as a possible queen choice

Caladael – "pool of light" – Lothiriel's maidservant in Gondor

Balaras – "powerful deer" – Imrahil's steward at Dol Amroth

Wigmer – "famous battle or warrior" – Eomer's esquire