LOVE! Rohirrim Style
Chapter 11
Ring the bells and sing it from the rafters! I'm getting married… eventually.
~~~...~~~
"Would someone again, please explain to me what happened in my receiving hall earlier today?"
The 'light repast' was skipped. Luggage was taken to assigned rooms, horses had been stabled and rubbed down by their Rohirrim Riders, Éomer and his Marshals were housed within the palace, captains and other members of the éored were given rooms at the nicer inns closer to the palace. While all sat in state for dinner, servants were gadding about, steaming clothing, oohing and aahing over the elaborate Rider cloaks, the different Rohirrim fashions of their women, pointing at the leggings and tunics obviously not meant for the men. Many a young Rohirrim girl was catching looks from the young men of Dol Amroth. The father of the one young woman, who early on was told she would be sent home, ended up growling at several young men who gaped a bit too much.
So now the Royal Family, along with their guests from Gondor and the high éored of Rohan, sat at the long table while course after course was presented. Imrahil sat at the head of the table, flanked by Elessar and Faramir. Éomer and Lothiriel sat at the far end, their heads so close together they looked attached. Many imagined that under the table, their hands and knees 'met' many times. They were clueless anyone else was in the room, as it should be.
"It is Rohirrim custom for a Rider to wrap his intended in his cloak," Arwen explained. "It has been tradition for centuries."
"So, they are now married?"
"According to the Rohirrim?" Elessar responded. "Yes."
Imrahil scowled. There was more to this than he was being told and he was determined to find out. Rohirrim custom was well and good, however, there were contracts to be signed, bells to be rung and a waiting period to be decided. There was protocol to be followed. He looked up and down the table to see exactly who he could get a straight answer from.
"Lady Aefre."
Gamling and his wife were seated close to Éomer. It took several requests; eventually a chain of nudges and whispers down the table to get Aefre's attention. As she looked down the table, Imrahil elbowed Faramir. "Exchange places with her. That way I will not have to yell up and down the table."
"Would anyone like to see my vanishing table cloth act?" Amrothos called out.
"NO!" came the overwhelming response.
Eventually, Aefre made her way to the head of the table, questioning glances from her husband. Faramir helped her with her chair and she set her glass down. "My Lord? You wish for witty conversation and banter about the care for Meduseld's banners and the planting of the kitchen garden?"
The Prince of Belfalas smiled. "I recall you are a wonderful conversationalist, that you keep your husband on his toes, but mostly that one can get a thorough, if not complete answer from you." Aefre nodded to Imrahil and Elessar and raised her glass to be refilled with more wine. "I want to know what happened in my receiving hall and the significance of a Rohirrim man wrapping a woman in his cloak."
All eyes were on Aefre and the table grew quiet. "My Lord, the Rohirrim are a simple people. Yes, we have settlements and homesteads, farms and such. But many of our people were nomadic and have been for many generations; hundreds of years. They followed the herds, moved cattle from spot to spot so as to not over tax the soil. There were times holy men or women or even leaders of high importance were not nearby to complete certain rituals; marriages, funerals."
"A Rider's cloak is a precious thing. It is a symbol of his station, his training, his leadership abilities and standing. It is used as a symbol of statute. It serves a multiple purpose; it keeps the wind, the rain and cold from him when he rides. It is also what he sleeps in when on patrol or traveling. It protects him and all he holds dear safe, warm, and dry."
"Therefore, if he wraps a woman in his cloak, he is making a statement she is under his protection. It is a visible sign to all that she is dear to him. Due to lack of proper ceremony at times on the Riddermark, to be seen or caught wrapped in the cloak of a Rider is a statement and a symbol of marriage."
Imrahil sat mesmerized, his glass barely clutched between his fingers. "Interesting use of the word 'protection'. I was under the impression that women fought alongside men on Pelennor Fields." He nodded to Éowyn, acknowledging her distinctions.
Aefre stared at him. It made him uncomfortable because in that stare was a thousand stories not told that he was not sure he wanted to hear, much less know. "So, as Éomer King has wrapped my daughter in his cloak, the Rohirrim consider them married, making the contracts and agreements and negotiations over the last few seasons null and void." He took a drink from his warming glass. "Amazingly simplistic."
"Prince Imrahil," Aefre was matter of fact and Gamling began to sit taller because he knew this tone of voice from her and it did not bode well for the Prince. "Apparently, there are several nuances you missed or were not aware of. The majority of the time, the pronouncement of man and wife comes after they are caught wrapped up in sleep. So on one hand, my King saved your daughter from the preconceived embarrassment of being caught naked in the bed with him. I would think he loves her very much to spare her that as you are a foreign culture and doubtfully would understand that." There was an audible hiss from the table. "Second, in wrapping her publicly, the moment he arrived, Éomer made the additional statement that regardless of settlement of dowry or agreements, regardless of her station, he would marry her. He desires her and her alone. He does not want her dowry, her jewelry, her connections, or her political power. He wants her! What an honor and privilege to be loved by the King of Rohan that he cares not for who or what she is. I know my King and believe me, he will honor your contracts and your traditions, however he loves her and he will marry her regardless even if she were a serving girl."
"Surely, you do not mean for us to believe that you were caught wrapped in your husband's cloak the morning after your wedding!" Daien was holding a bit of chocolate daintily between her fingers. She leaned over and leered at her eating companion. "That would be quite barbaric."
Aefre smiled and it was not a nice one. Imrahil immediately felt sorry for the very public dressing down his daughter-in-law was about to receive. Daien could be vapid and silly, but truly she did not have a mean bone in her body.
"Barbaric?" Aefre's eyes narrowed in vexation. "My mother came from west of Pelargir in Lebennin, near the Ethir Anduin. She fell in love with a man with a magnificent horse, a glorious head of hair and a kiss she told me made her toes curl and for whom she left her home and land to be with him, be his wife. A man who decided to see the world before he settled down and married as his father wished for him to. One of the stories my mother and grandmother told me was a custom in the area that concerned the bedsheet that the marriage was consummated on; that the bloody sheet would be hung from the roof or the ramparts of the home, proving the newly wedded couple had truly consummated their marriage. Is that custom here?"
Daien looked as if she wanted to crawl under the table. "Yes."
"You fly a flag of blood, whereas we simply share warmth and security beneath a cloak. And you call us barbaric. As for your other question, Éomer King, Captain Éothain, and Prince Faramir had the honor of finding me wrapped in my husband's cloak. And yes, we were both naked. "
Aefre prodded her chair back before leaning toward Prince Imrahil, ensuring only he – and Elessar – could hear her. "Mark my words, Éomer has wrapped her well and publicly and we have proclaimed her our Queen. If he took her to his bed tonight, none of us would lift a finger to stop him and, in fact, would ensure it would take place, if it were his wish. Whatever traditions and customs you practice, I would set to them immediately and hurry. He desires her like none other and while he will honor the contract and your traditions, he will not wait long."
She stood up and backed away from the table. "Ladies and Gentlemen, my Lords," she nodded to Imrahil and Elessar, "my King," she nodded to Éomer, "my Queen," she nodded to Lothiriel, enforcing her words that the couple were indeed wed in the eyes of the Rohirrim, "it has been a long journey and my husband is not the young, frisky colt he once was." Elfhelm began to cough uncontrollably behind his napkin and even Éomer was shaking with mirth, "we bid you good eve."
As she stepped away from the table, she caught Daien in a stare. The woman blushed furiously. "I would put down the chocolate, if I were you. Your labor will begin tonight and your babe will come sometime on the morrow. Your stomach will not be happy with all the sugar you have put in it. I am sorry; it will be a long labor." With that, she moved away from the table and waited for Gamling to come to her.
As they went down the long, quiet hall, Gamling asked her what she whispered to the prince. When she told him, he shook his own leonine head. "They will not get a moment's peace between now and the wedding."
"Then we best ensure their own traditions are placed and executed swiftly. I would not put it past Éomer to climb into her bower and take her."
~~~...~~~
Éomer presented himself in Imrahil's office early the next morning, Lothiriel by his side. Elessar and Faramir were called for the witnessing of the signing of the formal contracts. Éowyn and Arwen attended also, Éowyn mostly due that she was her brother's only kin. The only agreement not settled upon was the date of the marriage ceremony.
"There are customs we have, Éomer of Rohan," Imrahil spoke slowly. He hadn't slept very much that previous evening. Lady Aefre's words rang in his ears and he knew the most difficult agreement of all would be this one. "Traditionally, when a wedding proclamation is made, bells are rung in our sacred places and the date is announced to all by our holy men." He swallowed painfully. "There is usually a waiting period."
"How long of a wait?"
"Two moons." There was silence. "I believe I can quicken the pace and have the wait reduced to one moon-"
"What is wrong with today?"
"Today?" Imrahil choked. "Why… there are preparations-"
Éomer was a tall man and at this moment, he dwarfed every man in the room. "Prince Imrahil. It is spring in the Riddermark. My people are planting, preparing the fields. Our livestock will be breeding and this is the time wild men and Dunlendings will be at their most irksome. It is not the time for the king of Rohan, or her most loyal and battle-hardened marshals and captains to be leagues away. Gamling is most anxious to return home. His garrison and homestead are in the Wold and furthest from aid if something were to happen."
"Perhaps, you should have waited until the summer?" Elphir had come in quietly and his mouth was tight. It looked as if he had not had much sleep.
"I wanted to come this past winter, however my Marshal and his wife urged me to wait and prepare Edoras for their Queen. Messengers were sent." Éomer looked down at Lothiriel and took her hand gently. "I would marry you by your customs in five days. I will take and announce you as my queen that day. We have need to return to the Riddermark in ten days." He then moved his gaze to Elessar. "Five days. According to my Marshal, I should show up where I am told, when I am told. I care not where or when, as long as it is within five days." He was still holding Lothiriel's hand. "I am going riding. I would be pleased if you joined me and showed me your homeland. I will meet you in the stables." He turned her loose and headed towards the door. Just as he reached it, he stopped and turned. "The dress is beautiful," he winked, "but I would see what Hæfern has taught you. Dress appropriately." He winked again. "Elphir, how is your wife?"
His mouth was indeed in a grim line. "Lady Aefre was correct. Daien's waters broke in the night and she was having a long time of it. I have been told not to expect our child's arrival until sometime in the evening." At this point, his shoulders visibly sagged. "They will not let me in. They tell me it is woman's work and it was my job to go elsewhere and wait. I would rather be with her."
Éomer looked at him thoughtfully. "When Gamling's daughter came, the women sent him out to drink. Instead, he spent the night cleaning the stables from end to end. Perhaps, you should ride with us? I am sure the others going with us would enjoy your company as I intend to ignore them." He was smiling at Lothiriel. "My attention will be elsewhere." With that, he strode out the door.
A collective sigh was heard through the office, Imrahil's knuckles white on quill he was holding. "If he thinks he can walk in and set terms and make demands," he said tersely, "then he is sorely mistaken."
"Father," Lothiriel approached him gently. "He and I have waited on this marriage a year and a half. We have been more than patient. It has been hard on me as well. Put yourself in our place. What would you do?"
It was very quiet as Imrahil pondered his daughter's words. "You look so much like your mother. I am going to miss you so very much."
Twenty minutes later, the bells of Dol Amroth were ringing, proclaiming the pending wedding ceremony of the Princess to the King of Rohan in five days.
~~~...~~~
Éomer decided quietly that riding in ships on unpredictable waters was the stupidest thing a man could do. Ah true, it was a beautiful sight and he was determined to char the memory deep in his mind so he never forgot, but he appreciated dry land to walk on, rather than a rolling deck.
Hæfern had outdone himself and Éomer made a mental note to make sure his so-called retired Captain was rewarded well. Lothiriel showed up in the stables, dressed in a well-tailored tunic and leggings and supple boots – no spurs. She saddled Nihtweard with an ease and quickness, proving she was doing this on a regular basis. Hæfern made it clear he refused to coddle her and insisted on proper care of her horse on her own. And, he added slyly, she did not whine, like her Sister-in-law, Lataie, and fell with amazing grace until she learned how to sit astride.
"I am sure you angered her kinsman, not treating her like a Princess," Gamling snorted.
"Fuck her family!" There was a reason the grizzled old rider stayed out of the palace, regardless of how many times Lothiriel invited him up for dinner. "She is to be Queen of Rohan, not Queen of some mamby-pamby panty-wipe, pussy-whipped princeling!"
"He has not changed," Elfhelm snorted under his breath. "He taught my wife to swear."
"Gamling!" Aefre whispered. "I am sure he is a favorite of the king's but he is NOT returning to the Wold with us! Léoma will give us fits enough without his help!"
Gamling was nodding in agreement. "He has been teaching Lothiriel to speak Rohirrim."
Aefre clapped both hands to her mouth. "Sweet Mother of Béma! We have our work cut out for us on the return trip!"
Gamling agreed heartily. Who knew what the crusty rider taught her? Hæfern would find it funny for Lothiriel to enter Edoras and announce in her newly learned Rohirrim; 'How the fekking Mordor are you and have a fekking great day! You are the fekkingest of the fekkers and I love the fekking lot of you!' He didn't know if he should shudder or laugh. He decided to have a chat with Éomer before the day was out.
With all that on their minds, the group rode out, taking in the town (who were still aghast at women in leggings!) and eventually to the beach.
Haleth and Abéodan were racing each other good naturedly up and down the beach, Haleth looking more relaxed than he had since arriving. Elphir kept looking back towards the castle, his heart definitely was elsewhere and Gamling stuck close to the man, understanding how he felt. When he learned that Elphir was the Master and Commander of the Royal Calvary in Belfalas, he remarked such to Éomer.
"Hæfern has been a tremendous teacher, not only to Lothiriel, but to myself and my men. It has been an honor and a privilege. Even the short time young Abéodan has been here, my men have spoken of his knowledge. I was hoping," he added with trepidation, "that we could continue to have someone visit simply to work with us, to teach us more and perhaps have an exchange of horses."
Éomer smiled, his attention still mainly focused on Lothiriel. They were walking, hand in hand, and leading their horses. "It is in the contracts already, Elphir. I made sure of that. Young members of your cavalry are to spend a minimum of four seasons training at the garrisons of Edoras or the Marshals. Marshals Elfhelm and Erkenbrand command large garrisons, well known in Rohan. Gamling is rebuilding the garrison in the Wold, but expects to have it up and running at full-strength by the end of the summer."
"At my request, Rohan will also send horses to breed to our mares," Lothiriel spoke up, "to strengthen their lines. It will be a good exchange for many years."
Elphir was now dismounted, standing next to his sister. He pointed at Haleth. "That one has embarrassed several of my men already."
"Haleth?" Éomer scowled. "Has he said something untoward? If he has not behaved in a proper manner, Gamling will-"
"Oh, he is fine." Elphir raised his hands, to ward off Éomer from calling Gamling. "It seems he likes to race and has won some nice bets." The man smiled. "Needless to say, they would like to bring him down a peg or two and as their commander, I have been… charged with his comeuppance."
Éomer threw back his head and laughed, a deep, rich sound.
"Uh oh," Éowyn whispered to Arwen and Aefre. "Éomer is getting ready to fleece someone!"
"GAMLING!" Éomer called out, "Come! Tell us about your young rider."
Gamling had not dismounted. He did not like how the sand felt or shifted beneath his boots. He trotted up to the small group and looked down. "Haleth? He does his father proud. He has a brave heart and fought admirably at Helm's Deep. He is faster than the wind, prefers bareback and guiding with his knees. He trained," he nodded to Haleth's young stallion, "that one. He is a good horse, the boy is doing well."
"I wish to race him."
Gamling smiled. "Then challenge him, but do not be surprised if you lose."
Elphir challenged him.
And lost by several horse lengths.
It was not lost on Gamling that the boy was racing with a certain edginess he did not previously have, a sense of dread he did not have before. Faramir whispered that he rode as if the demons of the Black Tower were on his heels. He wondered what happened that would cause that sort of drive.
The Marshal had a feeling he knew what it was.
