Éomer was happy. He was home, the feast was going well, the food was good, and Amrothos wasn't making a complete fool of himself. Lothíriel had – conditionally – agreed to marry him earlier in the day, which pleased him no end. And his newly-met cousin, Gleril, was intelligent and quite funny, and spoke excellent Rohírric; he was thankful that his grandmother had been good enough to send her instead of another, potentially more stuck up and less competent cousin.

He shook himself from his fugue when he heard Gleril, Lothíriel and Amrothos arguing good-naturedly. They were all at the head table, Amrothos next to him on his right and the women next to him, so he could hear the argument clearly. Amrothos was complaining vociferously about Gleril stealing some of his clothes for the journey. Gleril, who was apparently as pragmatic as Lothíriel, pointed out that breeches were much easier to travel in than skirts, and that their party was less likely to be bothered by undesirables (here Éomer thought she meant brigands or Orcs) if they did not know that they travelled with a woman. Amrothos wondered out loud in a petulant voice why Gleril had not brought her own clothing in men's style instead of making off with his. It was at this point that Lothíriel broke in.

"Amrothos, stop complaining. At least this time Gleril simply took your spare clothes. The last time that that happened, you ended up in Gleril's clothes, concussed and the author of an international incident under three jurisdictions." Dead silence surrounded them. As the group realized that they had caught the attention of others, Éomer wondered who had turned a brighter red – Lothíriel, Gleril, or Amrothos. Éomer felt that he had to inquire, at least for the sake of his peace of mind.

"Dare I ask?"

Lothíriel and Gleril looked to be smothering snickers while Amrothos looked mildly embarrassed. The two women turned to Amrothos, but it was Lothíriel who spoke. "Do you want to explain, brother? I wasn't there, so my input is limited."

Amrothos sighed. "I might as well. The fall that I was nine – I believe it under the calendar it was 3005 – my father brought me to the city along with my oldest brother Elphir. There was a trade delegation of Rohírrim coming to the city, and Dol Amroth was to participate in the talks."

Éomer nodded. "I remember – I went as well. Théodred was in charge, but since I was fourteen he let me tag along as his squire. He said it would be good for me to get some experience of Mundburg." Éomer began to have an inkling of where this story was headed – for all that this had happened almost fifteen years ago, there had been several – notable – events during that trip to Gondor, of which the trade was perhaps the least. His suspicion was only furthered when his comment caused Amrothos to blanch.

"Well, cousin Morwen also came to the city with some of her daughters and grandchildren. Now, while Elphir got to participate in the talks, being eighteen, I was lumped in with cousin Morwen's granddaughters, which I did not like, figuring that I had better things to do. One day while the trade talks were going on, being curious, I snuck out to see the city."

"At which point I, being equally curious, followed him," broke in Gleril. "I had never been to Minas Tirith before, and wanted to explore. I knew, however, that a young girl wandering the city alone was inviting trouble. So, since Amrothos and I only a few months apart, and were about the same size at this point, I followed him, waited until he passed by an alley …. " Her voice tapered off in embarrassment, and Amrothos picked up the tale again.

"At which point you hit me over the head with a rock, dragged me into the alley, and switch out clothes. You even did up my hair to look like yours. I woke up an hour later, alone, with a blinding headache and unable to walk in a straight line. I then tried to make my way back to our townhouse on the seventh level so that I could change and then get my revenge."

Éomer laughed in disbelief. "No one noticed that you were a boy?"

Amrothos shrugged. "Well, at that age, there's less physical differentiation between the sexes – most of the cues are behavioral. And I was wearing a dress. Though I think a lot of people thought I was a very bad-tempered and unladylike young lady," he added, to general laughter. He smiled ruefully. "It's one of the only times I've been upset at my Numénorean heritage – it does tend to make one look prettier than is good for one's health." More general laughter. Éomer had to hand it to Amrothos – he really knew how to milk a crowd. The exceptional 'prettiness' of the princely family had been commented on by many Rohírs, though few would deride a family that had showed such bravery on the Pellenor and the Morannon.

After the laughter had died down, Amrothos continued. "I was almost home when I found myself caught up by Prince Théodred. He thought I was Gleril, and didn't notice that my eyes were the wrong color." Amrothos grimaced, seemingly not wanting to go on, but Gleril gladly took up the tale.

"My absence had been reported, you see, and search parties sent out. It was cousin Théodred's bad luck that he stumbled upon Amrothos and thought that he was me – due in no small part to my deception, melded with what Amrothos calls his 'undue prettiness.' Théodred was quite angry with 'me' for wandering off, and went on for some time in Rohírric about the dangers to little girls of wandering off alone. But Amrothos' blow to the head, combined with his lack of knowledge of Rohírric, meant that he was scared, confused, and lost."

"I didn't recognize your cousin, and thought that he was going to do … something … bad to me, from the way he was yelling. So I started to fight back. I blackened one of Prince Théodred's eyes, caused a few other injuries, and generally tried to escape. At one point, I was cornered by a young soldier, and I bit him until he let me go. He wasn't wearing mail, so I managed to draw blood."

At this point, Éomer started, and raised a hand to stop Amrothos from continuing, rolling up his left sleeve to show the younger man the faded but still clear bite mark on his lower arm. Amrothos gaped, and Lothíriel and Gleril peered over to see what Amrothos was looking at.

"That was you?" Amrothos sputtered.

Éomer nodded. "You fought like a cornered badger. We all thought you were a Gleril – daughters of Rohan are all taught to fight, at least a little, and you looked a girl in the dress." Éomer smiled slightly. "None of us realized that a 'girl' with such a mouth full of curses and a rider's gait was unusual – it isn't here."

Amrothos smiled weakly, obviously relieved that Éomer wasn't angry at making the connection that it had been him that had bitten the future king of Rohan. Éomer nodded to him. "Go on with your story, then, Amrothos. I want to hear how your version is different than the one I remember." The younger man gulped nervously.

"Well, at this point, a fuss had been raised and the guards called. Prince Théodred had managed to pick me up again when a squad of guards arrived. I knew that guards meant trouble, so I pulled the first defensive move I learned." He squirmed a little.

Lothíriel laughed. "Father taught this to all of us – it's a two-part move, a fist to the nose and a knee to the stomach, intended to give the user a chance to get away without permanently disabling the assailant. But Amrothos misjudged somewhat – his fist connected with your cousin's face, but I believe that he broke his nose instead of getting his eye again" – she looked enquiringly at Éomer, who nodded – "but his knee went wild and he accidentally got Prince Théodred in the crotch. The prince promptly dropped Am, who took the opportunity and fled."

Éomer nodded reminiscently. "It took us an hour and a half to get back to the Citadel because so many of us were hurt. When we got there, we found Amrothos – still in the dress – trying to explain himself to Boromir while Elphir told off a rather disheveled 'boy' in the livery of Dol Amroth."

Now it was Gleril's turn to laugh. "Yes. Elphir was out looking for me and saw what he thought was Amrothos. He figured that 'Amrothos' was up to something and went to catch him, but when he got to me he realized who I was and brought me back by my ear. He was furious."

Amrothos laughed. "He paddled your behind in the Court of the Fountain!" He sobered in remembered mortification. "And then he paddled mine."

Éomer sniggered. "Then we did an exchange of hostages, got everyone back into their proper outfits, and figured out what we were going to tell Prince Imrahil and Denethor Steward. Not that they believed us."

Gleril smiled. "Grandmother wormed it out of me eventually, but I don't think that Cousin Imrahil or Lord Denethor ever got the full story."

Éomer nodded. "Grandmother wrote and told Uncle what happened, but he let it lie. I think that he figured that the crown Prince, his cousin, and several members of the royal guard of Rohan knowing that they were roughed around by a nine-year-old was enough."

Amrothos nodded. "I think that Father just didn't want to know what I'd done. Since no one was out for my head he seemed content to let sleeping dogs lie."

Lothíriel laughed and poked her brother in the ribs. "That's so. You've caused enough of Father's grey hairs without him going looking for more."

Éomer wondered if he was going to make it through the rest of the evening unscathed.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next afternoon saw Éomer, Éowyn, Lothíriel, Gleril, and Amrothos in Eomer's study, at ease in the overstuffed chairs that surrounded the fireplace, enjoying the tea and snacks that Botilda had sent up. Amrothos and Gleril had brought with them the official correspondence they had carried, the more personal letters and packages having been delivered the day before. Éomer noticed his sister sporting a new bracelet – some sort of white stone showing phases of the moon in silver – and assumed that it had come from Faramir. Not a great one for jewelry, Éowyn would occasionally hit the bracelet against something and then jump in surprise, but then touch the bracelet with a soft smile. Éomer smiled to himself upon seeing his sister do it again, this time raising a soft clink as her bracelet hit against the metal of her cup.

After a period of catching-up on the actions of relations and friends of mutual acquaintance in Gondor and Rohan, conversation turned to more serious matters.

Turning to Amrothos, Éomer asked, "So, Amrothos, will you finally hand over this mysterious package?"

Amrothos slowly dragged the canvas-wrapped package out from beside his chair and over to Éomer. It was evident that the package contained something heavy. After the package made it in front of Eomer's seat, Amrothos went back to his seat.

"It's actually several items. You know that the then-Prince of Dol Amroth, a distant ancestor of yours truly, was present at the swearing of the Oath of Eorl?" Éomer nodded, and Amrothos went on with his explanation. "Well, since no upper-class Gondorian can so much as take a shit without making a written record of it" – Éomer snorted to hear Amrothos' depreciation of his folk, though he was not about to disagree – "we have some records of this at home, notably some journal entries, a tapestry, and other general historical information."

Amrothos took a deep breath before continuing. "But when Faramir decided to go exploring in the middle of the night, he found some sort of hidden room off of the library full of things that we can only assume were too valuable to leave out in the general-access areas of the library." Seeing Éomer's questioning look, he explained, "Most of the library is open to whomever in the castle wishes to look into it. Visiting scholars and travelers often come in as well. But more importantly, the room Faramir found contained many historically valuable items. We found some first-hand accounts of events long-passed which we are going to keep for some scholars, but buried in a chest in the back, we found … this. Open it – you'll be surprised."

Éomer slid to the floor and opened the bag to find an extremely battered and abused breast- and back-plate set in what was clearly a Rohírric style from the design and the , though one that Éomer had never seen before. It was also obviously quite old. The leather sections had mostly rotted out, though a few heavily gilded (though withered) sections still clung to the rusted metal. Yet what immediately caught Éomer's attention was the obviously damage done to the armor from use, not age – various dents, gouges, and nicks in the armor proved it seen hard wear, and a fist-sized hole in the side meant that whoever had worn it had sustained at least one major injury. The next thing to catch his attention was the designs on the armor themselves – they included most of the major symbols of the House of Eorl. Several things clicked together in his head.

Éomer looked up at Amrothos from his position on the floor and asked, "So what exactly am I looking at?"

Amrothos took a deep breath. "From ancillary information we know that this came back to Dol Amroth after the declaration of the Oath of Eorl. We believe – though we are not sure – that, from the quality of the armor and the designs, that this belonged to Eorl himself or one of his close relatives. The damage done would make the set much less useful, hence its abandonment in favor of what we can assume was a less distinctive but more useful set. Faramir thinks that this stuff just got dumped into the luggage and dragged back – perhaps as a memento, perhaps so the gold that remains could be melted down." Amrothos shrugged. "In any case, it was forgotten for many, many years."

Éomer mulled this new information over, and then smiled. "This is a great find. I shall have to thank Faramir." Éomer looked at Éowyn and patted the armor. "This should go on display somewhere, yes? It's a valuable historical artifact." Éomer remembered how Éothain always teased him for his use of what he called 'unnaturally big words,' but he found more and more that a few bigger words – used judiciously – were appropriate.

Éowyn wrinkled her nose. "But not before it's been cleaned up a bit. It's covered in rust and dirt."

Éomer stood and dragged the armor over to a corner of the room. "I'll see to it later."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Amrothos ended up staying for a week. He had also been tasked with discussing many wedding-related items – ensuring that the traditions of both the Mark and Gondor were honored was the official byline, but Amrothos laughingly (and rather truthfully) said that what he was really there to do was to help make sure that everyone ended up equally offended. The news that Aragorn wished to come to Edoras early to do something about Isengard had been received in both Dol Amroth and Rohan, and when Amrothos asked if the Dol Amrothians could also arrive early, the response had been an enthusiastic affirmative. Éomer was gladdened at the thought that he would get to see so many of his wartime companions at once; it almost made up for all of the fuss associated with Éowyn's wedding.

Amrothos also made a point of spending a good deal of time with his sister. Éomer felt the younger man's eyes on him often, especially when Éomer spent time with Lothíriel himself. He had the feeling that Amrothos knew that he was cultivating a relationship with Lothíriel, and while Éomer knew that Imrahil and Erchirion seemed amenable to the idea, he was not sure about Amrothos. Éomer also suspected that Lothíriel had had an encounter with Amrothos herself about the issue; after one particularly obvious fit of staring (during a dance that Éomer believed was slightly improper by Gondorian standards, if not Rohírric), Lothíriel had taken Amrothos aside in the Hall for a brief but intense discussion from which she had emerged the obvious victor, after which the staring had almost disappeared. Éomer had been thankful when Amrothos left – the man simply seemed to spawn fuss.

Gleril, however, had stayed. Éowyn had wormed out of her that she did not have much of a place at home. Her parents had had three children – all girls – of which she was the last. The eldest, the heir, had married well, as the middle girl, though she had been widowed in the war and taken in by her husband's people. Her family was not the richest and there were not as many opportunities for a young noblewoman to go and earn a living. So their grandmother had hoped that Gleril could make herself useful in Rohan. It had been Lothíriel who had come up with a solution that had enabled Gleril to stay. Apparently part of the household-management training required of young noble maidens was instruction into how to manage a household's accounts, a skill that Lothíriel knew that Gleril excelled at. So Gleril went to assist the bookkeepers of Meduseld, with the understanding that she would assist them in expanding their work.

Chapter 14

Comments:

As a side note, I have changed my mind and Gleril is now Amrothos' age – so 24. It didn't make a difference to previously posted material but it's cogent here.

The incident in question took place in 3005. Amrothos was 9, Lothíriel was 6, Théodred 32 (to the best of my calculations), Éomer 14, Éowyn 10, Boromir about 27.

Also, before I get a lot of flames about Amrothos' comments about being "pretty" – the Princes of Dol Amroth have a good bit of Elvish blood and show it. Tolkien's elves are supposed to be ethereally beautiful, males as well as females. So you have to remember that all of Imrahil's offspring are fairly attractive, but even for the boys it's more on what you might call the 'beautiful' side than the macho-man type. Amrothos knows this and is making fun of himself, as well as recognizing that he might look 'girly' to many of the Rohírrim.

I am basing some of my information in the second half of the chapter on the section in Unfinished Tales about Cirion and Eorl, if you're wondering.

So chapters for this one are going to be coming a little slower than before – I've started a new fic, and so am switching off between. Feel free to go check it out via my profile page, as it's a Bagginshield story and so listed under the the Hobbit category. I'm also betaing a story for Avelera, which cuts into my writing time. Fair warning.