The Rohan Pride Trilogy

Epilogue: Recovery

Book One

By: WhiteLadyOfTroy

Summary:
The War of the Ring is over, and it is time for Gúthwyn to return home with the children. Yet things are not as they used to be, and many changes are in store for her, whether she would welcome them or not.

About the Epilogue:
I have decided to do what Tolkien did with his books. The Fellowship of the Ring had two books within the text, as did The Two Towers and The Return of the King. The only change I have made is the first part in my Trilogy: Alone. That was divided into three books, the first book explaining how Gúthwyn got to where The Fellowship of the Ring started. Recovery will be divided into two books.

About Chapter Twenty-Nine:
The upcoming events are based off of what I have learned from the appendices and various sources concerning the aftermath of the War of the Ring. I wish more was known, but unfortunately, it is not—thus, I have had to do much guesswork and fill in my own beliefs about what happened. Please bear with me.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

When Gúthwyn awoke, she felt a sense of disorientation. The sunlight outside the small, high window in her room was not where it normally was. This confused her, and she set about quickly getting dressed. Once or twice, her fingers fumbled on her gown as she remembered the events of the previous night. It must have taken her almost two hours to finally fall back asleep again: though she had been exhausted, and still felt traces of such fatigue inside her, she was unable to rid herself of the image of Lebryn and Gamling's niece.

Angry at herself for being so weak, angry at Lebryn for being so careless, and even angry at Faramir for seeing her sobbing, Gúthwyn could not help slamming the door behind her a little more loudly than was necessary. But as she made her way down the hall, she became subdued once more, knowing that she would have to face those who had witnessed her breakdown—and also the cause of it.

However, when she passed into the throne room, she was surprised to see that there were very few people inside. Normally when she woke up, the nobility were having lunch, and there was no lack of friends to choose to eat with. Now, the only ones there were Éomer and Lothíriel, sitting across from Aragorn and Arwen. Imrahil was the fifth, and last, person at the table. The rulers were talking quietly amongst themselves; she noticed that her brother and his wife were holding hands. Nor did she miss the faint blush that seemed to be permanently staining Lothíriel's cheeks.

Unsure of whether they would welcome a sixth companion, Gúthwyn hesitantly approached their table. Lothíriel was the first to see her; yet Éomer was the one who spoke.

"Welcome, sister!" he said, motioning towards the empty space on his other side. "Surely you are not just waking up?"

"I am," Gúthwyn replied as she sat down.

The others all laughed; even Aragorn and Arwen were working hard to conceal their smiles.

"What is it?" she asked in bewilderment. "What time is it?"

"Almost four hours past noon," Éomer informed her, smirking. "I did not think even you could sleep that late."

Gúthwyn flushed. "I did not much rest last night," she admitted, and briefly met Aragorn's eyes. "That is probably why."

Éomer's brow knitted in concern; Lothíriel's did, as well, though something else flickered within her gaze. "Was everything all right?"

"Yes," Gúthwyn hastened to reassure him. "I was fine."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with the eyes of everyone on her, she then asked, "Do you know where Éowyn is?"

"She and Faramir are on a walk," Éomer replied, smiling a little.

"Oh," Prince Imrahil began, and they all turned to him. "My lady Gúthwyn, forgive me for not mentioning this earlier, but I just remembered that my son was searching for you."

"Elphir?" Gúthwyn inquired. Éomer glanced at her, his eyebrows slightly raised in what appeared to be a half-smirk. Lothíriel's were slanted downward.

"The same," Imrahil acknowledged.

"Then, if you will all excuse me, I shall go find him. He is likely hoping to take me up on my offer," Gúthwyn said.

"What offer?" Éomer questioned, looking wary.

"A tour around the city," Gúthwyn explained, knowing that her brother had assumed it to be a challenge to a duel. "It was a grievance from his last stay here: I was most displeased to find out that he had not been shown around Edoras." She shot a pointed look at Éomer. "That, my dear brother, should have been your duty. The Valar know what else you forgot to do in the presence of Lothíriel!"

Imrahil, Aragorn, and Arwen chuckled, though the newlyweds' faces both turned a faint red.

"Do not worry, Éomer," Gúthwyn said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I am speaking in jest. You had other things to concern yourself with."

Then she smiled, bid farewell to those at the table, and walked lightly out of the Golden Hall. The memories of last night were beginning to fade from her mind; as she descended the stairs to merge onto the main street, a broad grin was on her face. She took a deep breath and let it out, delighting in the scent of the horses and the sounds of the people going about their daily business.

"There you are!"

Knowing who it would be, Gúthwyn turned around to see Elphir approaching her. "Good afternoon," she said, smiling as Alphros tried to tug his father along and make him walk faster. "Hello, Alphros the Brave."

Alphros beamed proudly. "I am going to be the bravest when I grow up!" he declared, his chest puffing out.

Elphir winked at Gúthwyn. "Even braver than I?"

"Twice as brave as you!" Alphros declared.

Gúthwyn could not suppress a giggle at this, but Alphros took it to be an admiring one, and his smile grew larger.

"Elphir," she at length said, "your father mentioned that you were looking for me."

"Indeed, I was," Elphir replied. "I was wondering if I might receive my tour today."

"Of course," Gúthwyn agreed happily. "What of your brothers? Do they wish to see the city, as well?"

Elphir shook his head. "They are down at the training grounds," he responded.

"Then, in that case," Gúthwyn began, "we shall go see them after we are done, and then perhaps you could be persuaded to keep your word about our duel?"

Before Elphir had time to answer, Alphros jumped up and down. "Yes, please, Papa!" he begged. "Please do it!"

"I will not break a promise," the prince informed his son. "You shall see me fighting before the end of the day."

Though Gúthwyn tried very hard to conceal it, a small, faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.


The afternoon passed enjoyably. Gúthwyn, Elphir, and Alphros walked around the city, the latter two listening as their guide pointed out all there was to see in Edoras. Alphros, in particular, was delighted with all the new sights, and more than once broke away from the two of them to go frolic around a fountain, or a rock, or a large building.

"I am sorry he is not so attentive," Elphir apologized the fifth time this happened. "He has never been here before, and is unused to seeing anything outside of Dol Amroth."

"I do not mind," Gúthwyn said contentedly. "Even now, Haiweth is the same way. I cannot hold onto her long before she finds some friends she wants to play with."

"What of Hammel?" Elphir questioned after a comfortable pause. "Does he, too, have many companions?"

Gúthwyn sighed a little. "Unfortunately, that does not to me seem to be the case," she said. "His interests lie more in his studies than in socializing, or even the ways of the sword."

"That is a shame," Elphir replied. "Yet he certainly appears to be an intelligent boy, and that is not a bad thing."

"No, it is not," she admitted. "I just sometimes wish that he had friends his own age."

Alphros came back to them, pointing excitedly at the haystack he had just danced around. "Can I climb it, Papa?" he asked, his eyes wide and innocent. "Please?"

"Do you recall what happened the last time you did so?" Elphir wanted to know, shaking his head.

Alphros paused and frowned, struggling to remember.

"You fell through the entire thing," Elphir reminded him, "and made a complete mess of yourself."

Grinning sheepishly, Alphros quickly switched the subject. "Can we go to the training grounds now, then? Please?"

Elphir exchanged a glance with Gúthwyn. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

"You have seen just about all there is to see," Gúthwyn said, smiling at Alphros' impatience. "I shall go and change out of this dress, and then I will meet you there."

The prince nodded, and after she waved at Alphros she left the father and son. Making her way back up the streets, answering the calls of several people as she went, she soon found herself at the bottom of the stairs. Erkenbrand was coming down them.

"Good afternoon, my lady," he said politely. "I would have imagined you to be at the training grounds by now."

"I am about to change out of my gown, as a matter of fact," Gúthwyn informed him. "Will I see you there?"

He smiled. "I have promised Gamling that he will lose quite terrifically in a match against his superior this afternoon, and I would hate to break my word."

She giggled. "I wish you both the best of luck."

They parted then, and she hastened her steps to arrive at the doors. The guards opened them for her; she thanked them and strode inside. It was in the throne room that she saw Cobryn, walking down the hall with Aldor. Neither of them noticed her.

"She clearly has no interest," Cobryn was saying, narrowing his eyes at Aldor. "Besides, is one wedding not enough?"

"I have told you before, there is hope of a stronger political alliance with—"

At that moment, Cobryn glanced up and marked her presence. With a wave of his hand, he silenced Aldor; the man started when he saw her approaching them.

"Good day, my lady," he said, bowing slightly.

Gúthwyn returned the greeting, and then said cautiously, "I hope it is not me that you were talking about."

The looks that the two advisors gave each other confirmed her suspicions. "Aldor, please, listen to Cobryn," she said, trying not to shiver at the thought of marriage. "He is right on both counts."

Aldor looked embarrassed, and shuffled on his feet before saying gruffly, "My apologies."

"Are you about to go to the training grounds?" Cobryn questioned then, raising his eyebrows. "You are still in your dress; yet normally at this time you have been there for several hours at least."

"I woke up rather late today," Gúthwyn explained, flushing a little. "I was just about to go down, actually."

"Then I shall not keep you," Cobryn replied with a grin. "Have fun."

A moment later, as she was walking down the passage to her chambers, Gúthwyn's mind returned to what she had overheard her friend discussing. The idea of marrying was troubling; even more so to know that the advisors were already debating it. A thousand protests arose in her mind, though none of them were near the mark of what was truly bothering her. I am too young—I am only twenty-one! And Éomer was just married to Lothíriel—should they not be satisfied with that 'political alliance'?

While she tried to keep her mind on those concerns, her stomach was queasy by the time she opened the door into her room. Marrying someone would mean not marrying Borogor. It would mean sharing a bed with someone… someone who was certainly not Hammel or Haiweth. It would mean doing that which she had been trying to forget she had already experienced. It would mean being expected to have a child, perhaps several.

For a moment, the nausea overwhelmed her so much that she thought she would be sick. Breathe! she yelled at herself, furious for being this weak. Was it so impossible for her to go a single day without the painful memories of her past? Why was she unable to hear the word 'marriage' without blanching? Why could she not just learn to bury what happened in Mordor?

Not wanting to dwell on these questions, she hastily went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of leggings and a tunic. Without a second thought she slipped out of her gown and into the new attire, trying not to wince when she caught sight of her back in the mirror. When she was ready, she went to her trunk and retrieved Framwine, taking a moment to admire the blade and sheathe alike.

Now prepared for what would hopefully be a good, long training session, Gúthwyn quickly tied her hair back and left the room. She went through the passage and was about to exit the great hall when the doors opened. Éomer and Lothíriel walked in, hand in hand and deep in conversation. They stopped when they saw her; Lothíriel's keen gaze lingered on her clothing.

"How was the tour?" Éomer inquired, smiling at her outfit.

"It was good," she answered. "Alphros was adorable to watch; Elphir told me he has never traveled outside of Dol Amroth before."

"You should have seen him on the road here," Lothíriel replied, grimacing. "After about an hour of his endless interrogations, Elphir decided that he would speak with our father, and kindly left me to deal with him!"

Éomer chuckled. "It cannot have been that bad," he murmured, grinning at his wife.

"I suppose not, if you do not mind having to answer questions such as 'Aunt Lothíriel, when are we going to get there?' and 'Aunt Lothíriel, where did the sea go?' and 'Aunt Lothíriel, why is your dress so big?' all day."

Roaring with laughter, Éomer managed, "My poor wife, you were absolutely tormented!" He leaned over and kissed her on the brow, then on the lips. "Does that make it any better?"

Deciding to leave the two before the situation grew awkward, Gúthwyn cleared her throat and said, "Have a good afternoon."

Lothíriel was blushing too furiously to respond, and Éomer seemed rather preoccupied, so without say anything further, Gúthwyn walked outside of Meduseld. A small part of her was jealous of Éomer: He had found, and was free to marry, the person that he loved. Whereas the one whom she would have agreed to spend her life with in a heartbeat was dead, never to be seen again by living man.

Do not think about this, she told herself wearily. It is over. It is done.

As she made her way down to the training grounds, she sought for something her mind could seize onto. At last, she decided on the subject of Tun. Around eight months had passed since she had seen him—in April, he would be returning to Edoras. She could hardly stand the waiting. It pained her to think of him toiling away, laboring to repair Helm's Deep with the cloud of Éomer's anger over his head. Why had she not made more of an effort to keep him from leaving?

A sudden shout caused her to glance up. She realized that she had neared the training grounds; the noise had been from a man attacking his partner. Her mood turned better, she sought for the figure of Elphir. Soon she found him, sparring with Erchirion while Amrothos and Alphros watched. The latter was wide-eyed, cheering his father on and gasping whenever someone made a particularly bold strike.

Gúthwyn made her way over to them, her gaze lingering on Elphir as she noted his skill. He would certainly be a worthy opponent, though she doubted that he could triumph over Éomer with much ease. But that was not to say he did not have skill: As the heir of Imrahil, he had been trained thoroughly, and this was an area that had been paid careful attention to by his instructors.

He had a natural grace and elegance—almost like Legolas, she found herself thinking, and shivered a little—and was quick on his feet. He was constantly darting in and out, going for the sly, sneaky stroke rather than the powerful, blunt one. His younger brother was no less an artist at this form of combat: Their blades were merely a whirl of dazzling metal, glinting in the dying sunlight.

At last, Elphir triumphed, landing a crafty jab on Erchirion's neck when the prince was not prepared. Alphros' cries of delight rang through the training grounds, so that numerous Rohirrim glanced over and smiled. The two nobles bowed to each other, and then turned to see Gúthwyn standing a little ways from their audience.

"Hello, my lady," Elphir said as Alphros ran over to him, demanding to be picked up. He obliged, spinning the boy around awhile before setting him back down.

Amrothos glanced casually over at her, and then stiffened. His evidently surprised gaze raked her body. Even though it was her outfit that he was staring at, she could not help but feel uncomfortable.

"You are fighting?" he asked incredulously, finally looking at Framwine.

"Yes," Gúthwyn replied firmly, meeting his eyes levelly.

"As a matter of fact," Elphir said, grinning at his youngest brother, "Gúthwyn has challenged me to a duel."

Amrothos suddenly became very interested in watching Gamling sparring Erkenbrand, though she had the impression that he was working hard to conceal a snigger. She felt a surge of irritation flow through her, and then subdued it. He will decide for himself how worthy I am when we are done, she thought.

"Do you wish to warm up before we start?" Elphir asked then. She shook her head.

"I will be fine. Besides, I think Alphros may just burst with impatience if we do not begin soon."

Elphir looked over at his son, and when he saw the boy hopping excitedly up and down he laughed. "As you wish," he said.

The two of them moved to a more open space. As they did so, and were preparing to commence their duel, she saw Erkenbrand and Gamling pause what they were doing to watch. Gamling had a half-horrified expression on his face that would, no doubt, be mirrored on Éomer's own once he discovered that she had been fighting with his guest.

Elphir bowed courteously to her, and she returned the gesture. They readied their swords, hers gleaming with anticipation. For a moment, they circled each other, each searching for weaknesses in their opponents' guards. Yet when Gúthwyn spotted Elphir's, she did not act on it immediately, wanting him to remain unaware of it for as long as possible. Instead, she feinted to the opposite side, intending to draw him out.

The prince took the bait, and he lunged forward to ward off her attack and deliver an equally strong counterblow. From there, it was merely a whirlwind of swords. No matter how hard Elphir tried, he was unable to get through her guard. She had come close several times, though had not had any success in doing so. After about two minutes, neither of them had gained any ground. She decided to change that.

Without warning, she launched into a series of swift and powerful strikes, sending them in random directions so that he never knew for sure where they would be coming from. He began falling back, though he still managed to defend himself adequately. The look of surprise on his face was enough to make the adrenaline pulse faster through her veins. She pushed him back further.

At one point, their swords caught. Both of them used that time to regain their breath. She glanced over at Alphros to see him gaping at her, shocked that a woman could have the upper hand over his father. Likewise, Amrothos' thinly-veiled smirk was gone, replaced by astonishment.

"Shall I relent?" she whispered, looking up at Elphir. "I would not want to disappoint your son."

His breath was coming heavily. "I think it is your call," he said, panting a little. He was gazing at her with newfound respect. "Where did you learn to fight so well?"

Her heart twisted. "I have trained nearly every day for nine years," she replied, thinking of the duels in Isengard and the miserable practices in Mordor. "Necessity in the darkening times dictated that it had to be so."

"Then do what you will," Elphir responded, "for it seems I am in no position to hinder it."

They pulled away from each other then, and slowly but surely Gúthwyn began weakening her attacks. She let herself be pushed back, foot by foot, until they were nearly at the place where they had started. The men would see through such falsity immediately, but Alphros would not know the difference. When her sword met Elphir's, her motions were slower than before.

It was not long until Elphir found a way to get under her guard. The tip of his sword rested lightly on her stomach, and it was worth it when Alphros cheered happily. She bowed to the prince, and he to her; then he leaned close, and muttered, "If you desire, we shall fight again, outside of my son's presence. Then the duel will be fair."

A smile came to her face. "I am looking forward to it," she replied.

When they returned to Alphros, Amrothos, and Erchirion, the three of them gave their congratulations to Elphir and cordial nods to Gúthwyn. Amrothos' eyes were narrowed slightly at her.

"You won! You won!" Alphros chanted, tugging at his father's hand and dancing.

"Now, son," Elphir chastised him, "one does not brag about their good fortune. Remember that."

Alphros was quieted, though a gap-toothed grin still lit up his face. Gúthwyn smiled to herself and turned away, looking for someone else to fight. Perhaps Gamling and Erkenbrand are done, she mused.

Once more, she did not notice Elphir's eyes on her.


At last, Gúthwyn sheathed Framwine. The blade shone mournfully as it slid back into its casing, and even though she had been practicing for nearly two hours she found herself wishing that she could have done so for longer. But the sky was dark, as it was winter and the sun did not show its face for a great span of time, and she had to go back inside and get ready for dinner.

She glanced up to see if there was anyone she could walk back to Meduseld with and froze. Lebryn was walking by, his manner revealing none of the embarrassment that she would have expected to see in him. Yet a brilliant flush had dyed her cheeks, and she could hardly watch him for humiliation. To think that she had last seen that hand caressing a woman's breast...

A wave of nausea rolled over her at the same instant he happened to look in her direction. His eyes widened, and for a long moment they were both still. No one else was left on the training grounds.

"Gúthwyn," he at last said, and moved closer to her. She stiffened, taking a step back. There was another pause. For the first time in her memory, Lebryn was shifting awkwardly in front of her. "About last night..." he began roughly.

"Lebryn, how could you?" she whispered, struggling to hold back a wave of tears. "How could you be so careless?"

"No one else has seen us," Lebryn quickly said, though his head was hung. "Only you."

"Oh, I am so lucky!" she spat bitterly, surprising even herself with her tone. "Do you have any idea what Gamling would do to you if he found out? To say nothing of her father?"

"Are you going to tell him?" Lebryn wanted to know, tensing at the mention of Gamling.

"No," she replied, and he could not conceal the relief that passed over his face. "But I told Cobryn."

For a long time, he looked at her. "I suppose I deserve it," he said, though there was little remorse in his tone.

"Lebryn, you are a fool!" she hissed. "Someday, one of the women will become pregnant! Then what will you do?"

"I have already heard this from Cobryn," he retorted defensively.

"Then why are you not listening to him?" she demanded, feeling something prickling at her eyes.

To that, he had no answer. "Lebryn," she at length said softly, "you are only eighteen. Please, do not ruin your life at such a young age."

"I am not young," he answered irritably. "You may remember me only as a sullen boy, but we are no longer in Isengard. Life there was horrible, Gúthwyn, you of all people should know that! Do I not now deserve to fulfill my own desires? And what of you? Kissing Tun's cheek, the Valar know where else—"

She slapped him square across the face. Rage, a blinding, furious rage, swept through her. "How dare you?" she snarled as he flinched. "How dare you accuse me—accuse him—of such things? You are the one who was caught behind the stables!"

Her voice was now hitching, but she willed herself not to cry. "You disgust me!" she exclaimed, trembling in horror and loathing. "What has happened to you?"

"I am trying to forget Isengard!" he at last roared at her. Gúthwyn took a step away from him. "I am trying to forget being a slave! I am trying to forget this stump of an arm!" He gestured angrily at it. "You condemn me for my lifestyle, but you have no idea what I have been through! At least you were able to escape! You do not know what it was like to see all your friends die because they were no longer needed! To see Onyveth being dragged out of the room by an Uruk, crying, and not being able to help the poor girl!" His voice caught in his throat for the briefest instant, and Gúthwyn saw to her shock that something was glistening in his right eye. He furiously brushed it away. "And now you even have a family! My family is dead, Gúthwyn! Why do you think I am doing what I am doing?"

Gúthwyn was trapped in a horrified silence. She had never heard such bitterness in his voice. His dark eyes were black in their anger.

"So do not criticize me for what I am doing," Lebryn finished, his breathing ragged, "because you have no idea."

When she stood there, unable to say anything, he turned around and stormed away. He did not return to the Golden Hall; rather, he went down a narrow alley, and though she remained stationary for several minutes afterwards, he did not reappear. At last, she shook herself out of her trance, and stumbled in the general direction of Meduseld. After a few yards, she regained a steady walk, and was able to move up the street without attracting any suspicion from late-night tavern goers.

Her mind was buzzing. She had no idea that Lebryn felt so strongly about his past—she had mistakenly assumed him to not be affected at all by it. After all, he had the admiration of the women, and a respectable job, and until today she had not seen a breach in the rakish, confident air about him. Cobryn, with his more serious manner, had always seemed to be the one subdued from his experiences. Yet now she knew otherwise.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost did not notice when she arrived at the doors. But soon she had opened them, and walked inside the Golden Hall to see everyone sitting down for dinner.

"Sister, where have you been?" Éomer asked as she approached, his brow knitting in concern. Lothíriel looked at her, and arched an eyebrow in puzzlement.

Feeling the eyes of everyone—including Éowyn, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwen, Imrahil and his sons, the children, and Cobryn—on her, Gúthwyn flushed and said, "I was talking to Lebryn."

Both Éowyn and Cobryn glanced at each other, though the others did not seem to notice.

"Well, change quickly," Éomer said, smiling. "We have not started yet."

Gúthwyn nodded and hurried out of the throne room. As she went, she heard Lothíriel saying concernedly, "I hope she is feeling well—her face was rather pale…"


After dinner, the company steadily filtered away until only Gúthwyn, Éomer, and Lothíriel were left. Though the newlyweds included her in their conversation, she could not help feeling like a third wheel. This only reminded her that she had yet to talk to Éomer about whether or not he wished for her to remain at Meduseld. She felt plumes of nervousness rising within her at the thought of doing so, but she knew it was better to ask sooner than later.

She seized her chance when Lothíriel expressed an interest in retiring for the night. Quickly, she said, "Brother, may I speak with you for a brief moment?"

Éomer glanced at her, and then looked at Lothíriel. "I will join you in a minute," he promised his wife, leaning over and kissing her on the brow.

Lothíriel nodded and left; Éomer and Gúthwyn remained sitting.

"What do you wish to talk about?" Éomer inquired curiously.

Gúthwyn swallowed, not quite sure how to put into words what she wanted to say. "I was wondering…" she at last began, and trailed off, biting her lip and trying to figure out how to phrase such a thing. Éomer watched her in puzzlement. "I was wondering if you still… if you still wanted me to…"

"Wanted you to what?" Éomer prodded her when she once more fumbled.

"I was wondering if you still wanted me to live with you, now that you are married to Lothíriel and are going to be raising a family." The words tumbled out of her mouth, so fast that for a few seconds Éomer was quiet as he digested them. Then his eyes widened.

Gúthwyn flushed. "It is just that… I do not want to be in the way, and you have another to care for now. And if Lothíriel bears you several children, Hammel and Haiweth will only be more mouths to feed, as will I."

A silence fell between them, in which she cast about for something else to say and he merely looked at her.

"Gúthwyn," Éomer at last said, and to her surprise he chuckled a little, "I have no desire to turn you away! The fact that I now have a wife does not mean that I will shun my baby sister!"

Though relief flooded Gúthwyn at this, she tried not to show it. "A-Are you sure?" she instead asked uncertainly.

"Of course I am," Éomer said, leaning forward and taking her small hand in his large one. "I would not dream of sending you from Meduseld! Did you think I cared so little for your company?"

"I just thought…"

"Gúthwyn," Éomer interjected firmly, "you and the children are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you would like to.

A long exhale escaped her, and she was so overcome with gratitude that she nearly felt faint. "Thank you so much," she murmured, pressing a hand over her heart. "Now I only wish that I had gone to you sooner, so I would not have spent so much time worrying!"

Now Éomer laughed in earnest, and she could not help but join him. "Nay, sister, I hope you will continue to be the light of the Golden Hall for many years to come."

"You exaggerate," she automatically said, but the broad grin on her face was only a testimony to his statement.

When Gúthwyn went to bed that night, she slept peacefully, such as she had not done for years.