Chapter 12

(17 Jun 3019 III)

It had been easier than she expected, leaving Erchirion to his own devices. At breakfast, they sat with the riders and he renewed acquaintances. Since he was eager to see how the military and defense was conducted in Rohan, he gladly accepted their offer to tag along during their day to see it firsthand.

That settled, she caught Seftehad's eye and they arranged to meet after the noon meal was finished and Seftehad was at leisure.

"I am sorry that the arrival of my brother interrupted our work. I will see if I can speed things along today." Lothiriel led the way into the sitting room.

"Oh, do not feel bad – of course you wanted to spend time with your brother after being apart from him for so long. With all you are doing for me, I can hardly begrudge you that!"

"What is that?" Lothiriel had only been half listening to Seftehad's reassurances, her mind on the work they were about to do, but now she had glimpsed fabric draped over a chair. She might have thought Seftehad had put it there, but the material was far too fine for that to be the case, and it was not something Eowyn would have either.

"I don't know, but there is a note," Seftehad said, pointing to paper pinned to the fabric.

Quickly Lothiriel unpinned it, and read the short missive, before smiling and handing it to Seftehad. "It is for you."

"Me?" As Seftehad took the note, Lothiriel picked up the dress to get a better look. "What…what does it say?"

Lothiriel had forgotten that although many in Rohan could speak the Common Tongue, few could read or write it. "She is giving you this dress to remake as your undergown."

Seftehad gasped. "The woman who will be Queen of Gondor gave me a dress? But, why would she do that?"

"I think perhaps she wishes to contribute to your wedding day. When I was showing her around Meduseld, we came here and she saw your drawing. I explained how we were not able to make the dress as you envisioned. She commented that you should have a fine underdress, but did not mention a gift forthcoming. I suppose she wished to surprise you." And, Lothiriel guessed, perhaps Arwen felt the woman would be less embarrassed if the gift were not given in person.

"I…I can't believe it!"

Lothiriel rubbed her hand over the dress. It was the softest material she had ever felt. "I had heard that the Elves were exceptional in all crafts, and that their clothing was beyond compare, but I have never had occasion to see for myself until now. This is marvelous!"

Seftehad glanced away, then said determinedly, "Then you must have it. A lady such as you would better suit it, I am sure."

"Nay," Lothiriel laughed. "It was a gift to you, and I shall not undermine my Queen's kindness!" Turning away, she ran a hand over the material again and then added, "Oh, this will be wonderful! It will make a gorgeous underdress for you, and perhaps that will help you be less discouraged that we could not make your wedding dress exactly as you wanted."

Impulsively, Seftehad hugged the other woman. "Thank you for all you have done, for all you are doing! I am disappointed that my vision will not be realized, at least not in this dress, but you have made it better than I could have hoped for by my own hand."

Lothiriel smiled as she returned the hug. "You are very welcome. Now, then, let us get to it. If you hope to marry Ceorl before he rides with us to Minas Tirith next month, we must get busy on this dress."

"But…the Elf, she is thinner than I am. I do not think a dress of hers will fit me."

"Thinner, yes, but taller. There will be extra fabric that will need to come off the hem. We can do insets with that if necessary, and since it is the underdress they will not be seen."

Seftehad beamed. "Do you really think so? Is it possible?"

"It is very possible, and I feel sure I can manage it. Now, to work!"

Lothiriel had quickly discovered it wasn't that Seftehad was a poor seamstress, but more that she had simply never been well taught. With the proper guidance and correction, she had become quite adept at sewing seams as Lothiriel pieced fabric together and pinned it.

Before they went any further on the overdress, Lothiriel considered it best to refit Arwen's gown for Seftehad. They would need to be sure to make any allowances necessary. While Lothiriel continued cutting the remaining pieces on the outer dress, she set Seftehad to picking apart the side seams of Arwen's dress. Shortly before Seftehad was required back in the kitchen for supper preparations, they did the initial fitting of the dress to see what adjustments would be needed. Shortening, of course. Though rounder than Arwen, Seftehad's bosom was smaller – that helped with the fitting of the upper part. As it also happened, Arwen's gowns were not fitted, but tended to drape loosely over her form. That gave them far more leeway than they had expected and reduced what alterations needed to be made.

Lothiriel stood back and surveyed the dress on Seftehad, then slowly walked in a circle around her, tugging and checking as she went. When she was back in the front, she was beaming. "Excellent! This is going to be easier than I dared hope." She did a mental calculation. "Eomer said we would leave for Minas Tirith in early July. That leaves us just slightly over a fortnight. If you will sacrifice a couple of your evenings, I think we can have your wedding clothes finished within the week. You should be ready to marry Ceorl just after that, giving you at least a week together before he has to leave."

Suddenly Seftehad looked nervous. "So soon?"

Lothiriel raised a surprised eyebrow at her response. "Is that not what you wish?"

"Oh, yes, yes! It's just…I suppose I have been long anticipating it and now to finally have the time be near is a little…alarming! Yes, I will come any evenings you wish to work on it. I do want to marry Ceorl, and as soon as possible."

Lothiriel smiled. She supposed she could understand being nervous after enduring the wait. Often the reality could be a little frightening after all the dreaming was done. "Tonight, then? We might as well continue with this. I find if I put off tasks, that something tends to interfere later. Best to get it done right away, if you can."

"Yes, tonight!" Seftehad agreed, smiling happily. "Oh, this is so exciting! I am finally to be a bride!" Again she impulsively scurried forward and snared Lothiriel in a tight embrace. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

With a laugh, Lothiriel assured her, "I have very much enjoyed it, and to see your pleasure makes me even happier to have helped. Now, then, I think you probably are needed back in the kitchen, but come and find me when you are done and we will get back to it."

Eomer's day was progressing less successfully. He and his advisers had been in council all morning, and he was beginning to chafe at it. Earlier, when they had truly productive discussions and made worthwhile plans, he had not minded. Now they had drifted into bringing up unimportant topics. Yes, eventually, they would require his perusal, but there were more urgent concerns just now. They wanted to discuss establishing trade relations with Gondor when their attention should have been on more immediate needs. It would be a long while before they were in any position to do appreciable trading!

"My lord…"

Eomer looked up at Madalwin. The man had been one of Theoden's advisers for years, before Grima had managed to cut the king off from everyone but himself. Eomer had never particularly liked the man, but he hesitated to make too many changes to procedures this early in his kingship. Surely these men knew better than he how difficulties should be handled.

"Yes?" he asked, reluctantly.

"Sire, the Lady Lothiriel is—"

Eomer raised a warning finger to silence the man. He could guess where this was leading. He had seen Madalwin eyeing Lothiriel speculatively. He knew all too well that these men were eager for him to take a wife and begin producing heirs. Could they not see that was not of great importance just now? He did not deny that Lothiriel was amiable, and he might eventually even consider her for his wife, but if they were to survive long enough for that to happen, his attention must solely be on the Mark's recovery. Frivolous pursuits would have to wait.

"No. Do not attempt to take our discussions in that direction. I am well aware of your notions regarding Lady Lothiriel. But right now food and clothing and shelter to get us through the coming winter are all we should be planning. Once that has been accomplished, then – and only then – will I listen to other suggestions. Are we clear on this?"

Madalwin's frustration was evident on his face, as it was on others' also, but he nodded and subsided. "Yes, my lord."

"If we are done, you are dismissed."

He watched the men rise and slowly depart. He was tired, very tired. Had it been like this for Theoden? The constant worry, the sleeplessness at night as his mind harried him, rethinking every problem and possible solutions? His uncle had never seemed as spent as Eomer felt, but surely he had, at least occasionally. The Riddermark had been through rough patches before and Theoden had looked confident in dealing with issues as they arose. He rubbed his face. Theoden had been raised for these challenges from an early age, Eomer had not. Yes, he'd had lessons and learned Sindarin and manners that befitted the king's sister-son, but Theodred had been the one to endure the endless meetings and planning sessions. Eomer…Eomer had gladly escaped across the plains on horseback. Only now that was not an option. There was no riding away from his problems.

Madalwin's attempted conversation drifted back into his thoughts and brought Lothiriel to mind. He smiled. At least he had good friends, those willing to help. He knew he could count on Aragorn for aid, and even before he met her, he had claimed most all of Lothiriel's family members as friends also. The new Steward of Gondor, soon to be Eowyn's betrothed, he knew less well, but he suspected he would be able to call the man brother. His sister was not given to admiring simpering men; he was sure Faramir would prove agreeable on closer acquaintance.

And Lothiriel…Lothiriel was all eagerness to help, though he had not made good use of her presence at Edoras. When he spoke of her accomplishments to Erchirion yesterday, he had been sincere, but it did make him realize how he had failed to make use of her. Well, fortunately, she had offered help and suggestions whenever she could, without his asking. And they were good suggestions, not silly ones that he might have expected from a Gondorian noblewoman. She didn't try to make the Mark over in the image of Gondor, but only suggested practices from her homeland that might work here.

Lothiriel. Truth was, in other circumstances, he might… He sighed and shoved to his feet. Yes, in other circumstances, but not now. His attention must stay riveted on the Riddermark and her needs. Lothiriel, or anyone else, would have to wait.

xx (Jun 20)

For the next few days, Erchirion usually spent his days with friends among the Riders, and Lothiriel persevered on her garden by day, and sewing in the afternoon and evening. Even more quickly than she had hoped, the dress was nearing completion. Ceorl had thanked her most warmly, one day after dinner, for all her efforts, but particularly for her thoughtfulness to Seftehad.

"One sister is the only living family she has left, but she lives in the Westfold and they rarely see one another. I know it has filled that void that you were willing to help her prepare."

"I assure you, Ceorl, I have enjoyed every moment, and I am very pleased to contribute to your forthcoming wedding."

That same afternoon, she determined they had achieved their purpose, and the dress would be ready with just one more afternoon's worth of work. That freed Seftehad to turn her after-supper efforts to other preparations, and gave Lothiriel her first unscheduled evening.

With everyone scattered to their own pursuits, the Gondorian siblings had not often seen each other. Most of Lothiriel's suppers had been hastily eaten before she hurried off to renew her sewing efforts. Upon Erchirion's arrival, Eowyn had decided they should separate themselves and eat in the dining chamber set aside for the use of the king and his family. Tonight would be the first in a while she could enjoy a leisurely supper with her brother and friends, and she arrived at the table before the rest of the party.

When Eomer came in a couple of minutes later, it was to find Lothiriel already there but no one else. She was lost in thought, but looked up at his entrance and asked an unexpected question.

"Do you dance, Eomer?" She tilted her head to the side curiously.

He shrugged. "Not if I can avoid it, no. It is not a pursuit I enjoy."

"Perhaps, but now you are King, and will eventually be in want of a wife. I fear you will be called upon often to participate, whatever your inclination," she observed.

"Exactly what I have been telling him!" Eowyn said, strolling into the room to join them. "Third Marshal Eomer could do as he pleased; Eomer King cannot!"

She came to stand in front of her brother, hands on hips, but spoke to Lothiriel as she held his gaze. "Lothiriel, will you teach us Gondorian dances? I will have to know them as Faramir's wife, and Eomer may as well get busy and learn with me. We have you and Erchirion here to teach us, and I found a minstrel who was at Minas Tirith – he learned the music while recuperating in the Houses. We will practice each evening."

Her tone was edged with finality, and Lothiriel restrained a laugh, waiting to see how Eomer would respond.

At length, he sighed. "If it means you go off to wed Faramir and leave me in peace, I suppose I should do this." He turned away, and Lothiriel wasn't sure whether he was truly annoyed or only pretending to be. Either way, Eowyn was not apologetic.

"Good. We can begin tonight. I will go invite Heorleod to join us after supper." She swept out of the room without a backward glance.

"Er, my apologies for putting you in this position, Eomer. I was thinking about what Erchirion had told me about all the celebrations at Minas Tirith – for the victories and then the return of the King. It made me think that they will soon be celebrating anew once Arwen arrives to wed King Elessar. I suddenly realized how long it has been since I danced, and then I saw you. I was merely curious."

"No, it is fine. Eowyn has been haranguing me about this lately. I knew sooner or later she would force the issue. If anyone is to blame, it is your brother – his arrival gave her a stronger argument!"

Lothiriel laughed. "I have accused Erchirion of a number of things, but never of making someone learn to dance!" She chewed her lip, then added, "I know it is not your preference, but you will find it useful."

"I know," he sighed, taking a seat. "And probably now is as good as any. To the extent that I could, I have tried to avoid working in the evenings. This will be both useful and give us amusement besides merely talking." He eyed her. "Do you like to dance?"

She laughed again. "I do. It is one of the acceptable forms of exercise for well-bred young ladies in Gondor. There we are not encouraged to ride or learn swordsmanship. We are meant to stay indoors, delicate flowers embroidering decorative pillows, overseeing immaculate households and providing a child or two to our husbands. Indeed, we are nearly as decorative as the furnishings of our homes."

Erchirion was entering as she spoke and raised an eyebrow. "There is gardening."

She wrinkled her nose at her brother. "Yes, an utterly fulfilling and all-consuming occupation for us. And it is assumed we either like or want to do that since there is little other recourse."

He frowned. "I have never heard you complain before. What has gotten into you?"

She shrugged and looked away. "Perhaps I have just seen that life can be different than that, and I find such a restricted life…wanting, in many respects. I do like gardening, and sewing, but I like a good many other activities as well. Doing considerable riding of late, I have found that I enjoy it, and—" She hesitated, suddenly thinking it might be wise not to mention Eowyn teaching her to use a dagger. "And I intend to continue riding whenever I like once we return home." If her brother noticed that she had changed course on what she started to say, he gave no indication of it.

Settling at the table, he looked more closely at her. "I am sure you will be allowed to ride, if that is what you choose. Just remember when you are home that it is not like Rohan, and there are expectations for the manner in which the Prince of Dol Amroth's daughter conducts herself. Whatever else, I do not think you wish to embarrass Father."

She looked down and nodded. "You are right. I would never want to do that."

Thinking it wise to turn the conversation, Eomer remarked to Erchirion, "I hope you are looking for exercise. My sister has decreed that we should learn Gondorian dances, and you have been chosen to help accomplish that. Tonight, in fact, after supper."

Erchirion laughed, then gave a shrug. "It is wise for you to learn. And you need not look so put out by it, Eomer – it is an excellent excuse to make the acquaintance of any lady that catches your eye. At the same time, it spares you having to indulge in a great deal of conversation, making it all the easier to escape when the dance ends. Were Amrothos here, he could show you a tactic or two on how to work a room full of ladies to your best advantage."

In spite of himself, Eomer chuckled. "I have no doubt Amrothos possesses that sort of knowledge, but I do not have an earnest desire to learn those skills. Eorlingas are too straightforward for frivolous games."

Erchirion arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps, but when one seeks to meet eligible ladies with an eye toward marriage, dancing is the least onerous means of accomplishing it. You may well find it to be a very useful tool."

"I am not in search of a wife just yet, Erchirion, and do not expect to be in the near future. When I am, perhaps then I will not object to my sister's interference."

Lothiriel joined in then. "You are not bride hunting, Eomer, but Gondor is fond of dancing at its gatherings, and as an honored guest it will be expected of you. There is value in it now for you, if only to satisfy expectations. At least a handful of dances will satisfy the demands on Rohan's king when he visits us."

Much as he did not like to admit it, Eomer suspected she was right about that, and with Eowyn's wedding on the horizon that would surely prove to be an occasion requiring it of him. If for no other reason, he would yield to their entreaties. "I suppose." Further than that, he would not commit.

Eowyn returned then, followed by servants bringing in their food, thus attention turned to the supper being laid.

For Eomer, the meal ended far too quickly, and the minstrel arrived soon after. They adjourned to his study, as he had no wish for an audience to his stumbling efforts. He wasn't surprised that Lothiriel paired her brother with Eowyn, explaining it was easier if at least one member of the couple knew the steps. Heorleod began the first tune at her signal, and she and Erchirion walked their partners through the steps several times so they could become familiar with the pattern. And then they had to actually dance it from beginning to end.

Normally, Eomer judged himself a fairly quick learner, but he felt distracted. Something about Lothiriel tonight kept pulling his attention from what he was doing, and then his steps would falter and he would have to look at Erchirion for guidance as to the next movement. Once or twice Lothiriel gave him an odd look, perhaps puzzled by his unexpected clumsiness, but never commented on it.

Erchirion was not as restrained. "I confess I am surprised, Eomer. I would have expected this to come more naturally to you than it seems it has."

He turned slowly, giving himself a chance to form a response. "It has been long since I danced, my friend. There have not been many occasions for frivolous activity in recent years, and most of my waking hours were spent riding across the Mark, keeping her…safe." His face clouded and he glanced away.

Lothiriel stepped into the awkward silence of this pronouncement. "Yes, but you move well. I do not think it will take long for you to become familiar with the steps and move more confidently. We have nearly a fortnight before we depart. Plenty of opportunity for both you and Eowyn to become…well, maybe not proficient, but hopefully at least comfortable. I would not have you on the dance floor fearful of missteps making you look foolish."

Erchirion followed her lead. "Not that Faramir is apt to notice if Eowyn struggles. The man is utterly smitten, Sister! You will not believe your eyes when you see it!"

Lothiriel grinned. "I look forward to it, and he is most deserving of joy. Certainly he has good reason in Eowyn." She canted a sly glance at her friend, causing Eowyn to blush. Turning to take Eowyn's hands in her own, she added, "Too long has he struggled in his brother's shadow, when he is more than admirable in his own right. Now, as Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, I hope to see him find peace with a lovely wife and many fine children."

Impulsively, Eowyn drew her into a hug, causing Eomer's brow to raise. Eowyn was not known for being warmly familiar with others, especially not other women. It was surprising, but also pleasing, to see it. He was glad she would already have at least one friend there when she went to make her home in Gondor.

He caught a glimpse of Heorleod, patiently awaiting their instruction. He had been very accommodating with his playing, and Eomer decided they should cease to impose on the man for this night. "My thanks, Heorleod. We will resume tomorrow, if you are available. You have been most helpful."

"My pleasure, lord. A good evening to you all." Heorleod bowed, and departed to the sound of their farewells, as they gathered for another glass of wine.

For a while, they quietly conversed until finally by mutual agreement they called it a night. In her room, as Lothiriel prepared for bed, her musings returned to the dance lesson. It had gone well, she had not exaggerated that, though Eomer did not appear fully focused on what they were doing. To herself, she could admit that she had been somewhat distracted also. The movements were so familiar to her that she did not have to give them more than scant awareness as she made passes down the hall or circled her partner and the other dancers.

No, surprisingly, she had found herself more conscious of Eomer than usual. When they had come face to face at one point in the dance, an inexplicable warmth had spread inside her. She felt very…comfortable with Eomer. She was this at ease with her family members, certainly, but she did not recall ever experiencing it with anyone else. After her recent experiences with the kidnappers, she had learned just how unpleasant a man's gaze could be when looking upon her. Naïve though she was, she could well guess their intent as they had allowed their eyes to roam over her body, even if they refrained from touching her. With Eomer, however, his looks were never invasive or lecherous, and she trusted that they would never become so, making her want to run or hide, making her feel defiled. She involuntarily shivered just remembering the way her kidnappers had eyed her.

Repeatedly, both he and Eothain had stood between her and harm, forming an impenetrable fortress around her. Part of her ease with Eomer surely was attributable to the numerous times he had come to her aid. She would trust both her life and her virtue to either man. And yet, where Eomer was concerned, there was more, and she could not find the words to even explain it to herself.

She shoved the ramblings from her mind. They were friends – naturally she would feel as she did. There was no reason to marvel. She must call it a night. She and Seftehad had a long list to complete tomorrow in order to finish, and she wanted to be well rested for a full day ahead.

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