Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star. - "The Poetess"
Chapter 36
Lady Ceolwen did not cry.
Of her life, she could recall only three instances that she had shed tears. First, the day her mother had passed away. Second, when she had found her betrothed dead on the battlefield before the Black Gates of Mordor. Third, the day she had lost her father.
The times she had cried were all connected to the losses of her life. So perhaps then she should have been crying when she made from Meduseld, knowing that justice had failed and there was no one left to help her, except for herself. But she was not going to accept this one just so, not yet at least. She had time until after Yuletide, for she had insisted she was still mourning for her betrothed and her father, and even that villain desecrating the Golden Hall could not deny her that. But after Yule...
"My lady, what are we going to do now?" asked Ohthere, the steward and advisor of her household who had served her father before she had become the Lady of Astdun. He went on, "That mockery of an underking is going to support your cousin, unless you marry him."
The two of them had been striding swiftly to get to the stables where their horses were, but now Ceolwen stopped to look at her steward, her face twisted into a fierce determined frown.
"Ohthere, how far are you willing to go for me?" she asked gravely. The question made him blink at first, but then he touched her shoulder.
"Lady Ceolwen, I've served your family all my life, and I promised your father that I would watch over you. That promise I shall keep to my dying breath", he replied firmly. His words brought a slight smile to her face, though it was without joy.
"Then I say this to you, old friend. We will hold on to what is right, even if we are the last people in the Mark to do so. I will fight for my birthright, for this was given to me by my father before the eyes of Éomer King himself. No living man may take it away from me, and I will not bow to false lords", she said, her voice low but laden with steel.
Ohthere looked at her in wonder and let out a breath he had apparently not noticed holding.
"Very well then, my lady. I will follow you to whatever end. Perhaps this is precisely what our people need – perhaps someone just needs to stand up and set an example", he murmured, and she made a quiet growl in agreement. He bowed his head and spoke, so quietly that she almost did not hear him: "Hail Éomer King."
Ceolwen echoed those words... and somehow, as she spoke them, the name of the dead king became a symbol of hope.
Sunlight danced gently on the floorboards of the bedchamber. It was quiet now, and somehow the silence held strange depth. And still... as Imrahil gazed about in his daughter's chamber, it felt like Lothíriel's presence still lingered there, as though she might walk in any moment.
The chamber bore the signs of a sudden departure. On the bed, pillows and sheets were in disarray and on the floor, she had forgotten some pieces of clothing. But her most valuable possessions were gone with her, disappeared into the night once again. And whether she'd return this time... only the Valar might know the answer.
A hard lump had formed in Imrahil's throat. He reached down to pick up her tunic from the floor, folding it... but he could not let go of it: instead, he hugged that garment close to his chest. His little fay-child...
But Lothíriel was not little anymore. She had travelled south, faced dangers he could but imagine, and brought back what she had looked for. And now she had decided her task was not yet finished.
Sound of steps startled him then, and as Imrahil turned around, he saw his second-born son standing at the door. The disturbed look in Erchirion's eyes very much revealed that something was on his mind.
"What is it, son?" Imrahil asked, laying Lothíriel's tunic on her bed.
The expression on Erchirion's face trembled, the way it used to when he was still a young boy. It was odd sometimes, knowing his children were all warriors, and yet before him they always retained something of the children they had once been.
"It's my fault, Father. She... I told her something I shouldn't have, and now she's gone again", his son mumbled weakly, avoiding Imrahil's gaze like he was too ashamed to meet it.
"Why do you say that, Erchirion?" asked the Prince, frowning as he spoke. His son looked at him with eyes full of guilt.
"Father, I told her I did not think it was good for her to be with Éomer. I didn't mean ill by it, I swear. I just... you haven't seen him! You don't know how he has changed! He is nothing like he used to be, and I was worried for Lothíriel. I told her so too, but she wouldn't listen. And she was so angry at me, she must have -" he stammered, and he'd have continued this outburst had Imrahil not interrupted him then.
"Erchirion", said the Prince firmly and the sound of his name silenced . Gently, Imrahil lay a hand on his shoulder.
"I do not wonder why you hold yourself so responsible, but you should give some credit to your sister where it's due. You know Lothíriel just as I do. No one makes her do anything – not even us. I don't believe she left with Éomer because of you and what you said. She went with him because that is what she wanted", Imrahil said. He sighed then and straightened, looking about himself in the chamber. "Maybe your words played a part in making her resolution. But she already had a reason great enough to go and that is her love for Éomer. I believe for only that she'd have gone with him. Do you think she would give up on him after all they already went through?"
His son remained silent for a moment, considering his words. Eventually, Imrahil saw a slight softening on Erchirion's face, and knew to took it for a sign that his son did recognise the truth in those words.
"Are you at least going to send men looking for her?" Erchirion asked. At that, Imrahil sighed again.
"That was my first thought, yes. But Aragorn... he has asked me to wait for now."
"But why? We have to look for her! We can't just let her go skipping off to the wild once more!" Erchirion said hotly.
"I know, son. There is nothing I want more in the world than to have you sister come home, and it was not an easy decision to let her go... that Aragorn asked it of me is the only reason I have not sent men to find her and take her home", Imrahil said at length. He turned to look at his son again, "Our king is convinced Lothíriel is exactly where she needs to be right now. It may be the only way Rohirrim can have back their lord. And it is in Gondor's best interest as well that he returns. We cannot lose our most powerful ally."
"So after all this time you're just going to let her go again?" Erchirion asked, his voice filled with disappointment.
"It breaks my heart, but yes. That Rohirrim get back their king is more important than our feelings. If your sister can help Éomer, then what can we do but let her try?" said the Prince of Dol Amroth heavily. He frowned slightly, "And what do you think would happen if we did go to find her? Do you believe she would actually agree to come home?"
"No", Erchirion allowed. "No, she wouldn't."
"Yes. And that is only if we could find them now. Who knows where those two have ventured?" Imrahil said, shaking his head.
A silence fell between them and they both stood there lost in their thoughts. Aragorn had said to trust Lothíriel... perhaps that was right. She had survived the roads of the south, after all, and she had proved there was hardiness in her they had not even known to exist.
"Do you think we'll see her again?" Erchirion asked, his voice low and sad.
Imrahil smiled through his tears.
"I don't know", he spoke, his voice not much more than a whisper, "but I hope."
Belfalas
He looks good today.
That thought came to Lothíriel on a morrow couple of days after they had travelled through Linhir. They were making for the road again and loading their things on horses. Éomer did seem to be on a calm mood and she was glad, though maybe it wasn't what she'd have expected. Having heard his tale in full she'd have thought recalling it would have troubled him... that the memories were still too fresh and difficult for him to reminiscence.
Then again, what good would it have done him to keep it all to himself? She considered it could be such evil memories needed to be spoken of out loud instead of letting them lay quietly and fester. And she was happier for knowing the full tale, because it explained so much, and she hoped it'd help her to support him, help him find a way through this. At any rate it made her wonder at just how strong he was, for having weathered such a nightmare alive and sane.
It would have been misleading to say that the relationship between her and Éomer changed after that night he had shared the truth with her. Love between them was of steadfast nature and it did not turn or waver, and even the stories like the one he had given her did not alter it. But perhaps there was new kind of trust between them, and she understood him better. For Lothíriel saw why Éomer would not cease asking and wondering why she kept fighting for him: he had thought there was no hope for him, and that her efforts would be wasted. Now, however, he had seen that though she knew the whole tale, she remained undaunted.
And perhaps... if she believed and hoped forcefully enough, then maybe he'd start believing too.
From the outskirts of Linhir they travelled onwards. They chose to follow the coast and remain in Belfalas for now, as she had spoken to him of her wish to see Dol Amroth again.
"It's been so long since I last saw the city of my birth. I'd just... I don't know, but it feels like we're supposed to go there, if only for a little while", she told her beloved on that day when they had again started on the road.
"In Dol Amroth it is more likely that we are recognised, however", Éomer pointed out, frowning slightly.
"I know. That's why I won't ask for more than a day or two", she said, worrying her lip.
He regarded her in silence for a while, and she saw in his eyes some concern grow.
"You miss your family, don't you?" he asked.
"I do", she admitted and looked down, thinking of them; how must they be worrying about her! She had trusted they'd understand her choice, but what if they didn't? And even if they could see why she needed to do this... well, all the reasoning in the world would not make it easier to bear.
"Lothíriel, I... if you wish to go home, I will not try to stop you", said her beloved gently. That made her look up sharply, and from the pain on his features she realised just how difficult it had been for him to speak those words. Yet no matter how much he needed her, she knew he would let her go if by some bizarre reason she did want to abandon him.
"I'm not going to leave you. I told you already that I go where you will go", she announced firmly, which brought a slight smile to her horselord's face, chasing away the agony. Her words apparently convinced him fully, for he spoke no more of her going home, and there was a silent agreement they would indeed travel to Dol Amroth – if only so that she could see it again.
But even if there was no doubt now that wherever they'd go, it would be together, one last question remained. And that was of the cloak he'd have wrapped about her shoulders if the south had never happened.
However, as the days went by and they rode through the lands of Belfalas towards Dol Amroth, Éomer never spoke a word of the matter. To herself Lothíriel wondered if she should raise up the topic, or if that would have been rushing the things. Was it just like everything else had been: giving him time and facing everything as it came? She didn't want him feeling like she was pressing him to do things he wasn't comfortable with, and yet...
Yet there was the feeling that perhaps marrying her was not what he wanted anymore. She could understand the change in him now, and he was many things he hadn't been before. However, the world they lived in was not a place where princesses running away with wandering men could ever hope to have a life free of scorn.
However perhaps there were lessons for her to learn as well. As he had needed to re-learn the trust between them so did she, and a week after they had passed through Linhir Éomer gave her one of those sharps looks that reminded her of a time before the south.
"Something is on your mind", he stated firmly. It was that quiet moment of the evening when the camp was set, the horses had been looked after, and they had already eaten supper.
"How do you know?" Lothíriel asked, at which one corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.
"There is this crease between your eyebrows. It is rather precious, but if something is troubling you... do you want to speak of it?" inquired her beloved, watching her closely.
"I was just thinking", she started at length, unsure of how to proceed. Suddenly she felt like an idiot, because she knew he loved her and she could trust him with everything that moved in her heart, and still...
She cleared her throat and met his gaze, and saw there only the confirmation that none of her vulnerabilities would ever find anything but support in him. So she continued: "I was wondering if you had changed your mind about... about marrying me, that is."
Éomer blinked and looked at her with some surprise. It took a moment for him to come up with anything to say, and from that alone she knew she had been foolish to worry about this.
"Why didn't you say anything before, you nonsensical woman? It is not that I don't want to marry you. Of course I do! It is merely that... Lothíriel, I did not speak of it because I wanted to give you time and a chance to reconsider", he said, his voice quiet and troubled. His words made her frown.
"Why would I want to reconsider?" she wondered out loud. He sighed.
"I'm a wretched thing, and if I gave you a cloak, it would mean our lives would be joined irrevocably", he said, frowning as he spoke.
"You're not wretched", she told him firmly, though relief was flooding her heart so powerfully it made her feel a bit dizzy. "Don't you ever say that."
She moved closer to him then and went on, "And our lives are already joined irrevocably – have been for some time now. My mind is made and it's not going to change."
"I know that. Rationally I do know that you will not give up. But you have sacrificed so much for me, and... sometimes I fear you will come to regret it. I do not want you to marry me because you feel obliged", Éomer spoke softly, placing his arm about her shoulders.
"That's not why I'm asking this. I don't feel obliged - I know I'm privileged to be your bride", she replied, and he smiled at her words. She even thought her choice of words gave him unexpected pleasure.
"I owe you my life. I owe you everything, now perhaps more than ever. I don't suppose I ever really understood how much you really were giving up for me", he said, reaching over to kiss her brow. She smiled at him.
"There are no debts between us", she reminded him and he made a soft sound in agreement.
The matter of marriage was not cleared just by that, however. That was why she soon spoke up again, after they had sat in comfortable silence for a while, both knowing that there were no more closed doors between them.
"How can we do it, though? It's not like we can just decide we are married", she pointed out when the question on the practicalities occurred to her.
"Eorlingas consider the marriage abiding when a man wraps a cloak about the shoulders of his bride. Whatever vows they make to each other depends on them only. However, it is vital that the event of the cloaking is witnessed", Éomer said at length. Lothíriel saw right away what the problem was.
"And we don't have any witnesses. Even if we did go and got it done before some farmer we came by on our travels, what would it matter? No, it has to be someone we know – and who knows us", she said, her brow creasing in concern.
"Hmm. We should have talked this through before... Aragorn and my sister were the best witnesses we could have ever hoped for", he said, sounding equally troubled.
"That is true", Lothíriel agreed. "And who could we possibly go for in Dol Amroth to ask for this? After all, it's not like we can just walk into the palace and -"
Her eyes widened when it occurred to her. Then she let out a delighted little cry, and even as her beloved looked at her in confusion she grinned and gave him a large kiss.
"Are you feeling quite all right?" he asked, sounding rather bewildered.
"I feel fantastic! Because I know just the person we need to ask help for", she said gleefully. She grinned again, "That person is my aunt Ivriniel, of course."
Though they had their agreement, arrival to Dol Amroth was not entirely without tensions. It wasn't the first time Éomer was encountering people, but it had not been in such multitudes or in the busiest hours of the day before, and in Dol Amroth the possibility of them being recognised was greater than in Pelargir or Linhir. At the back of his head a small voice started to natter as soon as he caught sight of the city by the sea, telling him to turn his horse and get away from this place.
But glancing at the woman riding beside him helped to ignore the restless thoughts and he reminded himself he had promised her they would do this. Her wish to see her home, even if it was just briefly, was understandable. And truth was he could not think of anyone else that might comply to witness their wedding but also let them go without any hassle. Éomer could not say he really knew the Lady Ivriniel, but where several noble ladies had informed him of the unsuitability of Princess Lothíriel as a queen, her aunt had never shown anything except support. And if his beloved trusted Ivriniel, then he would too.
Still, he couldn't hide his mood from Lothíriel, and as they made for the gates of the city she reached over to touch his arm.
"We don't have to do this if you're not comfortable", she whispered to him, but for those words he gave her a frown.
"No, no. I do not want to turn back. We have waited long enough as it is", he said quietly. His frown deepened as he went on, "I only wish we had married before I left for south."
"I wish that too", Lothíriel sighed. It might have made a lot of things less complex to say the very least, and perhaps everything would have been easier to deal with if he'd have been able to fall into her arms the moment he saw her again. Well, that was what he had done, and Aragorn and Éowyn had been very understanding, but even then at least a certain level of propriety had been required... and Erchirion would not have had any business to meddle with their relationship. But what had happened could not be changed.
His beloved reached to pat his arm again and she spoke: "Don't worry. We'll contact my aunt and we'll be married. I promise that to you, even if it's the last thing I do."
He managed a smile for her and they ventured forward in silence, as they were now getting closer to the city gates. This time they were approaching from the eastern gate, which was not the way he had usually used on his trips to Dol Amroth. And the side from which they came was not the wealthy part of it either; instead, around them bustled the common folk of the city, hurrying in their labours. He quickly realised it was also the reason they had used this gate, as no one here had time to notice couple of travellers. These people only knew great lords and ladies by the fine silks and velvets they wore, and banners that were carried before their horses.
Looking at Lothíriel he recognised the bittersweet expression on her features. How strange it must be for her, to be here in the city of her birth! Once again it made him acutely aware of just what a long road she had travelled for him... and all the things she had given up so that she could follow him. That was a formidable thing to know, but he did not allow it to take hold. She had told him right now this journey with him was all she wanted.
Lothíriel had rightly said that they could not just walk up to the palace and request to see her aunt. So she had suggested she write a message to Lady Ivriniel, to ask her to meet them on the shore tomorrow evening.
"I should be able to tell her where to meet. And the beach would be a good place, or what do you say? It's peaceful and we won't be disturbed", she had said, but then a hesitant look had appeared on her features. "It's enough, isn't it?"
When she had said that, Éomer had gently pulled her into a kiss. When he had moved away slightly, he had still held on to her, and he had murmured: "Even if it was in a darkest cave in the very land of Mordor, wedding you would still make it the fairest place in all the world in my eyes."
She had practically jumped on him then, and he knew no more reassurances were needed.
Neither of them had thought to take along anything one could use for writing, so a trip to the markets was needed before they could head to attend to their final task for the day, which was finding a decent inn to stay at for the night. If the next day should be their wedding day, then some comforts were necessary. For though none of this was how he had envisioned it before the south, he knew they both would at least like to have a proper bath.
Lothíriel knew the city and was able to take them near the markets – even find an inn that did not rouse any feelings of suspicion in his mind. As far as he could see, it was clean and well-kept place, and while he attended to the horses and made sure the animals would have everything needed in the stables, she dealt with the inn-keeper. While taking care of his task Éomer considered how easily they had fallen into this collaboration. Ever since they had left Pelargir, Lothíriel had taken it to her duty to manage things that required dealing with people. He was rather thankful for it, as he still had some difficulty in suffering strangers in his vicinity. Silently he wondered if that was something he could ever get rid of... but then, he knew at least she believed he would.
He was half-way done looking after the horses when his beloved joined him in the stables, and she smiled at him; in companionable silence they finished with the task of caring for their steeds. They picked up their saddlebags and she showed him the way to the chamber she had got for them. It was not very large and the furniture was plain, but it smelled fresh from recent airing and looked to be clean. There was only one bed, but he didn't think it had even occurred to her they wouldn't sleep side by side.
"What do you think? I think it's pretty nice all things considered. I couldn't even find any bedbugs", she said, placing her bow to rest by the wall and turning around to look at him. The light of afternoon spun around her and a sudden feeling of overwhelming affection came to him. Without a word, he approached her and pulled her into a kiss... and only with very serious effort was he able not to take her to the bed.
"What was that?" asked Lothíriel breathlessly when the kiss ended finally. She was flushed and her eyes sparkled, and resting his hands on her neck he could feel her trembling.
"I love you", he merely said, not quite able to explain what he felt just then. His princess smiled.
"As I love you", she murmured and gave him another small kiss before pulling back again, "but if you keep kissing me like that, I won't be able to concentrate on writing anything."
"Get to writing, then. For I fully intend to kiss you very much when you're done", he informed her. She grinned as an answer and went over to her saddlebag, gathered her things on the table by the window, and began to compose a letter to her aunt. Still, for the longest time she just sat there, staring down on the piece of parchment as though she could simply will the words on it. Éomer had sat down to fix a tear in his tunic – she had laughingly commented he was probably better with the needle than she – but eventually her obvious trouble made him look up from his work.
"What is wrong?" he inquired.
"I'm trying to come up with the right words. This letter... it's important that I get it exactly right. I don't think there will be another chance of convincing my aunt", Lothíriel said and the frown on her face deepened. "She could raise the entire guard of Swan Knights to come and get me, and while I could do it, I would rather not have to escape from my father's palace."
"I wish I could tell you what to say", he sighed, feeling useless for not knowing how to help. "But it has to be your own words, I think. Your aunt should know this is what you truly wish."
"Yes", she sighed and leaned back in her chair. She fixed her eyes on him then, and kept staring at him to the point where he started to feel slightly uncomfortable.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Éomer asked carefully.
"Inspiration", she merely said, and that was not only explanation enough but also consolation that made him relax under her gaze. And apparently it worked, for it was not long after that she began to furiously scribble. While she concentrated on writing he smiled and went back to mending his tunic.
He did not ask what she wrote, but when she was done she looked rather pleased, and when she sealed the message she let out a satisfied sigh. By then he had finished his task too, and had settled to lounge on the bed to wait for her. When she did, he gave her a smile.
"Do I get to kiss you now?" he inquired lightly, but she made a face at him.
"Who told you to go there and look like that?" she grumbled. "I still have to deliver the message, and if I allow you to distract me, I'm never going to be able to get out of this chamber."
"Hmm. Then go and get it done already!" he said and crossed arms under his head.
"I will do that!" Lothíriel announced. She put on her cloak, slipped the letter inside its pocket, and before leaving she stopped by him to give him a kiss. Then she was gone and the chamber felt curiously empty without her presence. He let out a small sigh and listened to the silence, and he found it was not difficult to bear. As a realisation to him came the thought: only few weeks before he'd not have been able to endure this without the danger of losing it, but now... now there was just calm.
Éomer thought of tomorrow, when hopefully she'd be his wife at last. For a time he had not really dared to think of that, not because it was unpleasant but more because of the reasons he had given her. Especially just after his release the thought of marrying Lothíriel had not brought him comfort, because then he had been convinced that sooner or later she'd grow weary or horrified - or both! - of the ways he had changed. And he knew he couldn't make her to hold on to the promises they had made to each other, for she didn't deserve being tied to a broken excuse of a man. So he had kept quiet, trying to give her the chance to say no.
Since then, things had changed. And slowly he had come to understand that though neither of them were the people they used to be, one thing would never falter. And somehow, with her, he was less asunder than he had first thought.
She'd marry him. Tomorrow, if the fates were so kind and Lady Ivriniel could be convinced... but then as he thought of that joyous event, he understood one thing was missing – and that thing was very important, if they meant to do this properly.
Éomer practically leaped from the bed and quickly went to the table, where Lothíriel had left the writing instruments. He composed the words hastily, and as soon as he had left a word for her so that she'd not worry when she'd find him gone, he rummaged through her saddlebag to find the purse of gold Aragorn had given her. When he got all he needed, he put on his hood and cloak and headed out, to take care of one last thing they would need for tomorrow.
Delivering the message was not a task too difficult. All she had to do was make her way to the palace gates and ask whether Lady Ivriniel was in residence (to which she received an affirmative reply); when she pressed a silver coin along with the letter in the hand of the Knight standing guard there, she hoped the matter would be taken care of like so. Now the rest depended on her aunt.
She wasted no time on her way back, though seeing the streets of her old home did bring her a bittersweet feeling. But she tried not to dwell on that even as she gazed at the familiar sights of Dol Amroth and breathed in its air. Strange it was, to be here – especially like this. It felt like many years had passed since the last time she had been here. When she had left behind this city of her birth months ago, she had not guessed what road was before her.
But coming back to the inn she found their chamber empty, and Éomer was gone. However before she could start to worry, she noticed the slip of parchment on the table and read the message written in his steady angular hand; he had gone to get something from the markets and would be back as soon as he could. Reading the words he had scribbled down, she frowned slightly and wondered what did he have in mind.
So she sat down to wait for him, trying to push back the faint feeling of disappointment, for she had rather hoped to find him here... and to investigate the implications of that very promising look he had been wearing before. But she told herself it must be something important, and so she waited.
It took entire two hours for him to finish the task he had left for, and by the end of that time Lothíriel was already pacing in concern and wondering if something bad had happened. She was going through a list of what might have occurred and where she should start looking for him, when at last the door opened and her beloved stepped in. On his arm, he carried a sizeable bundle, and at first she had no idea of what it might be.
The important thing, however, was that he had returned, and so she hurriedly went over to welcome him back. The kiss she gave him did not fall second to the one he had given her before when they had first arrived here.
"Where were you?" Lothíriel asked. "I was starting to worry about you."
A slight smile appeared on his face.
"I went to get you this", he said, nodding at the bundle resting on one of his arms.
"What is it?" she asked, her brow creasing in confusion.
Now the smile on Éomer's face widened. He laid the bundle on the bed and unmade the knots holding it close, and then he opened it. From inside he picked up a garment... and then he spread it before her.
It was a long, dark blue cloak. Around the hood flowers in a garland were embroidered with white simple thread and speckled with purple here and there. It was not extravagant but the fabric looked like it was good quality; when she touched it, she recognised the texture as Rohirric wool. Lothíriel knew instantly what this garment was, and her heart fluttered in happiness.
"It's beautiful", she said and smiled at him. But instead of smiling back at her, she saw his smile become a frown.
"I meant to give you my mother's cloak. It'd be more fitting for a princess than this one", he said softly. "The money – I took some from your purse. How pathetic. I can't even provide you with a wedding cloak by myself."
"Beloved, it's all right. Everything that I have is yours too anyway. And I think the cloak is perfect", Lothíriel told him and embraced him tight. Éomer tried to smile, but looking at his eyes she knew there was nothing she could say to make it better.
He sighed then and rested hands on the sides of her neck, considering her with melancholy that had been mostly gone ever since they had left Pelargir.
"None of this is as it was supposed to be. All the things we had prepared... everything that should have been... I know you don't mind, but it still feels wrong. You should have so much more than this", he said, his voice low and joyless.
She hugged him again and rested her head against his shoulder. Softly she spoke: "That is how life is sometimes. We can't have things we think we deserve... and maybe we are not in Edoras, and maybe our families are not with us, but we are together."
"Aye. That is important", he agreed.
The rest of the evening they spent quietly. They bathed and had supper, and afterwards relaxed on the bed; as Lothíriel massaged his feet she felt his mood was lighter once more. And when she curled up against him and sleep started to take over, she thought perhaps it wouldn't always be easy, but as long as they had each other, all things would be bearable.
The morning of the day of their wedding came and with it Lothíriel drifted into awakeness. Beside her, Éomer still slept. It was rare that she should wake up before him. Though nightmares came less often these days, he was still a very light sleeper.
She snuggled closer to him and as though instinctively the hold of his arms about her became tighter.
"Mm. Good morning, beloved", he murmured sleepily into her hair.
"Good morning, my dear man", she replied. She propped up her face to kiss him, which went on for a while. When she pulled back and considered him for a moment, a slight feeling of excitement bubbling in her belly. Though she already was as close to him as two people can be, the thought that this was the day she'd marry him still made her feel enthusiasm.
"Can you believe it? Tonight I should be your wife", she said softly, and her words made him smile.
"Just barely", he said.
"You know, if we were doing this the Gondorian way, you should not see me before we come to the ceremony. People seem to think it's bad luck", she said softly, but he snorted.
"I am fairly sure I have already used up all my bad luck", Éomer muttered and kissed her again. Then he whispered on her lips, "And I refuse to believe seeing you could ever be bad."
It took a while for them to be able to get out of the bed, but as in the letter for her aunt she had asked to meet her before sunset, they had plenty of time to prepare. Still, it gave her little too much to consider the possibility of things going wrong. Who knew what her letter had made Aunt think? What then, if she decided Lothíriel had to come home, and brought a dozen Swan Knights to seize her? However, she decided her father's sister deserved more than that from her.
But eventually after a restless day she looked at him and asked: "Shall we get going?"
"Béma, yes."
The beach they had asked to meet her aunt was not too far from the palace. One could see the tall towers from the shore, and when they had exited the city and were riding on the beach, Lothíriel looked at the proud dwelling of the Princes of Dol Amroth with sad fondness. There was her home, and she was riding the very same beach she had played in when she had been a child. And yet it felt like the distance between her and the palace could not have been greater.
But past was gone and she had to concentrate on what was at hand.
"This is about the right place", she said at last. The beach was empty still, but whether that was a bad sign or not, she couldn't say.
Éomer grunted half-audibly as an answer and the way he was frowning did pay testimony to how anxious he was at the moment. With some concern she regarded him.
"We don't have to do this, you know", she said gently, reaching over to touch his arm.
"Yes, we do", he answered sharply. But then he sighed and went on softer tones, "Lothíriel, I do want this to happen. And if we are ever to return to live among people, I wish to do it as your husband. Not only because I love you, but also because you don't deserve the treatment you would likely otherwise get. I will not have your honour tarnished in such a way."
She didn't know at first what to say to that, but he did have a point. If they ever returned home, people would most like know exactly what had happened. And it was true – she had given herself to him, and while they might see no wrong in the love and intimacy they had shared, the rest of the world wouldn't agree.
"I don't want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable doing", she said at length. At those words, his expression softened.
"You worry too much for me, Lothíriel", said her beloved gently.
"Maybe I do", she allowed, her voice falling quiet. "I just want you to be happy again."
At that he dismounted and came to her side. Carefully he lifted her from the saddle, held her tight, and kissed her for a long while.
That was how Aunt Ivriniel and Amrothos found them not five minutes later.
To Prince Amrothos it had been quite clear from early on.
In fact, from that first moment in the woods of Ithilien it had been more or less obvious – seeing his sister scream at the King of Rohan he had known it was only just a beginning of a long journey. Of course, someone so obstinate as Lothíriel needed her time to come in terms with it, but when she did...
Needless to say, Amrothos had not been surprised to hear that she wouldn't believe the news about Éomer's death, nor that she had gone to find her beloved horselord. Though perhaps Éomer himself would not agree that he was particularly fortunate man, especially after what happened to him in the south, the Prince considered perhaps fates did smile at him as well, for they had joined his path with that of a woman who had the strength and the will to find and fight for him.
Amrothos had returned to Dol Amroth from Pelargir, as Aunt Ivriniel had been waiting for tidings on her wayward niece just as much as everyone else in the family. His own feelings had been conflicted: on one hand, he had felt angry at his sister for yet another feat such as this, but on the other hand he understood why she had done it. And he knew it couldn't have been an easy choice.
Aunt Ivriniel had eventually agreed, though she too had initially been wroth with Lothíriel. By the time she sent her letter both their indignation had grown cold and made way to acceptance, not in small part because of her pleading words and request for help. For Amrothos it was partially about feeling responsible as well; he could not tell how things might have gone, but he had done his utmost to push her to Éomer, and if he abandoned her now... well, he knew he couldn't do that to her. He would see this thing through.
"Not to mention she may as well marry him", Aunt had sighed. "For Elbereth knows at this point it is the only way she might lead a life without disgrace."
And so at the appointed time the two of them had left the palace, followed only by couple of guards whose discretion could be counted on. Before they got to the beach he briefly worried if this was some prank, or if Lothíriel and Éomer would be there at all. Then again, Amrothos did know his sister's handwriting, and if this indeed was a prank he could not think what would be the point of it.
But as they arrived to the beach, a sheltered place not far from the palace, he spotted the two figures standing there, enveloped in the arms of each other. If nothing else convinced him this did, and he had to wonder what could possibly have made Erchirion fear Éomer hurt their sister.
As they approached, Amrothos heard his aunt draw in breath. He could see why that was, for the two people there on the shore were not those he remembered. Even from afar, Amrothos saw Lothíriel had cut her hair and her attire was not fit for a princess at all. And the man with her... he looked thinner than Amrothos remembered him, and older as well.
She glanced at them and flashed a wary smile, and then said something to Éomer quietly. She touched his arm as if to console him. Then, carefully like she was handling some dangerous animal, she turned to approach her aunt and brother.
Walking closer, Amrothos saw more of the things that had changed: how tanned she was, how her face was slightly narrower. But her eyes shined brightly and in the way she carried herself there was a new kind of confidence. He supposed she could afford it, knowing what road she had walked. And though she might have changed the important thing was she had come back, if only for this one evening.
Then Amrothos dismounted swiftly and hurried to meet her, and he caught his little sister into a crushing hug. He felt how she trembled with tears she'd not let fall and he had to fight similar emotion. Only now did he really understand what it meant, that she had really returned alive...
Aunt Ivriniel came then as well, and she hugged them both, gathering them in her arms like she always used to when they had been but children. She murmured in half-coherent words how very worried she had been, how her niece must be insane to have done something so foolhardy, and how she loved her brother's children.
"You came", Lothíriel mumbled weakly, "Thank you so much."
"Of course we came, you foolish thing", Amrothos replied and wiped moistness from his eyes as he pulled back slightly. "It is a privilege to be here today, sister."
Ivriniel was blinking hard, for she was in tears as well, and affectionately stroked her niece's cheeks.
"Look at you! What have you done to yourself? Your hair... and your skin used to be so fair! And what even are those clothes you are wearing?" she spoke, apparently trying to sound scolding but failing in the attempt. "I thought I might never see you again."
"I'm sorry, Aunt", Lothíriel answered weakly, hugging the older woman again. "I just... I had to do this."
"I know that, sweetheart. I know", Ivriniel murmured. "I am so glad you are safe."
It took a while for them to get a hold of their emotions again, but when they did they turned to look at the tall Rohir observing the scene in silence. He had changed indeed and about his dark gaze there was something that unsettled Amrothos... at least until those eyes fixed on Lothíriel. The impact could not be described simply - it was the tiniest shift and yet it changed everything. All it took was that one look at her.
She is safe with him.
The prince summoned a smile, trying not to give the impression he was very startled by what he had seen. Well, from the accounts of Éowyn and Aragorn he had known to expect this, but still... seeing it for himself was a different thing than hearing what others had witnessed.
"Éomer", he greeted the horselord. "It is good to see you."
"Likewise, Amrothos", said the taller man and nodded at him. Now his expression was a solemn mask, and what had been gentle about his eyes was gone again.
"I must say, it's a bit strange as well. I had taken you for dead, so you may imagine how it feels like to see you again", he continued carefully.
"Aye. I'm rather glad your sister did not think the same", Éomer said softly, looking at her again. She smiled as an answer. If the face of her betrothed was transformed by looking at her, so did hers change when she gazed at this man she had so fought to save.
"You will keep her safe, wherever you might go from here?" Ivriniel asked, still resting her arms about the shoulders of her niece.
"That I will do, my lady", he replied gravely.
A slight smile, fond but sad, appeared on her face. She glanced about the people around her. Then she asked: "Well, shall we get started?"
And so it was. Under the eyes of Aunt Ivriniel and Amrothos, both of whom were in tears, took place at last the marriage of Lothíriel and Éomer. On the shores of the sea it was forged, and she hoped it would perhaps be a new beginning, so that the past would eventually become but a memory.
In a time that now seemed far away she had promised him her love and her life. They had exchanged rings as the sign of their betrothal, and she had thought that soon she'd travel to Edoras... and they would be wedded with grand celebrations in that hall of his forefathers, with all the great and mighty of the western lands around them. Life would go smoothly – well, as smooth as it got with tempers like theirs – and they would share many happy years together.
But in the end it was not so. It wasn't a king that wrapped a cloak about her shoulders at sunset. And Lothíriel herself didn't feel like a princess in the plain and worn clothes, and with only her aunt and brother watching this union of two lives. The man she took to her husband was a haunted, troubled shadow of what she remembered... but she found she didn't love him any less.
For as the sun set that day, and they made their vows of marriage in the ancient Rohirric way by the sea, Lothíriel felt contentment. She had given him her heart, and with him it would stay to her dying day – perhaps even beyond. It didn't matter that he wasn't well, or that he wasn't sitting on his throne great and glorious.
What mattered was the complete and utter adoration in his eyes when he looked at her.
And after he had kissed her and rested his forehead against hers, he opened his heart, and he spoke quietly: "If there is hope for me, Lothíriel, it is with you."
A/N: I return at last with an update! I've been kinda busy lately, and most like I will continue to be, but I promise I will try and work with the next chapter as much and often as I can. New chapters might not come as regularly as before, but I have no intention of abandoning this story!
Lots of different POVs in this chapter. People were wanting to see more of Ceolwen, and I hope to write more of her as soon as I can. But here things are getting worse for her. As you can see, Feran's deal for her is that either she marries him or her inheritance goes to her cousin. I don't think Feran has realised what enemy he has made for himself, though!
Canonically there is no such place called Astdun in Rohan. It is my own invention, as Tolkien did not give names to smaller settlements of the Mark. The name consists of two Old English words, ast (east) and dun (hill). I also wanted to write a bit of Éowyn's POV but around 8000 words I realised I need to bring the chapter to an end, and she'll have to wait for a bit.
Also our lovers are married at last. I thought this is the most natural place for it to happen, though the conditions aren't really what they hoped. But like they tell each other, the most important thing is they are together. Anyway, I decided they would have to get married during this wandering, because after running away with Éomer I'd imagine marrying him is the only way she may retain her honour.
Hope you liked the chapter, and thanks for reading and reviewing!
Quote in the beginning originally by E. E. Cummings.
Inspiration for the chapter: Ramin Djawadi - I Am Hers, She Is Mine
MairaElleth - Imrahil definitely is upset, but I think he understands both Aragorn's plead and also Lothíriel's need to go with Éomer. Amrothos feels the same too. Also Amrothos feels inclined to help with witnessing the marriage. Like he thinks to himself, he feels partially responsible for this because of how he kept pushing his sister to encounters with Éomer.
I feel bad for Elfhelm too! It's partly because of his impatience, but he just wants to see their world mended. And like you said, Erkenbrand and Gamling are not wrong to vouch for caution.
And yes, having some time to themselves, and to just let go of their burdens, is definitely what both Éomer and Lothíriel need!
Thalia - Indeed it is not easy for either of them, but they recognise why she felt she had to run away again. They care about Éomer too and want to see him all right. Elfhelm wants the same thing, but maybe he needs to learn patience for now.
It seems you're not the only one who'd like to see Elfhelm and Ceolwen hook up. :D I will have to consider this matter... I'll try to add more of Ceolwen in the coming chapters!
Starlight - Glad to hear you liked it! :)
Shadowstorm - Yes, I do believe at that point Éomer understood he really needs to tell her about it. And maybe it has helped himself too.
Bowmaiden - Having time together is just what they needed after everything that has happened. It was very enjoyable to write as well.
Kiiimberly - And it is interesting to write as well! I don't think I've ever seen something like that done before. :)
Wondereye - He is getting better slowly but surely! Obviously he's not the same yet but he's definitely a lot better than how we saw him just after his imprisonment.
Imrahil isn't exactly angry. I think at this point he has already in a way let go of his daughter, and by Aragorn's insistence he has agreed to stand back for now. It's not easy for him, though.
Elealyon - You're welcome! It's true - it took a while to type that wall of text, but like I've said before in my A/Ns, I sometimes get blind to my own text and so things may be more obvious to myself than to others. So I felt the need to explain my reasoning.
Lothíriel was just glad to be rid of Opash, be it by her own hand or by Éomer's. To me it made this twisted kind of sense that the man he helped to look for would be the one to end him as well. I'm not sure how Lothíriel and Opash would have worked out - the post-Éomer Lothíriel would probably spend her days plotting to kill Opash...
I hope Imrahil's reaction here doesn't come as a disappointment! I think he has come in terms with his daughter making her own choices. He knows she has to do what she feels is right. Also the fact that she successfully travelled to find her beloved would strengthen Imrahil's faith in Lothíriel. And he must think of the situation also from a political point of view. It is in Gondor's best interests that the King of Rohan will return home, and be once again able to rule.
As to what Éomer will think and feel when he sees what has happened in Rohan... well, that is for the story to tell! :)
Talia119 - I'm very glad to hear I'm forgiven! :D My vision was always that after all the angst there should be a few chapters at least where our lovers have some peace and just time for each other, and it seemed to me that the only way they could really have that was if they'd leave together. I think it's essential for Éomer to get better.
You raise a good question about Erkenbrand. But no worries - that he's still a Marshal isn't a slip on my part. I mean to elaborate on the matter later on!
Also here's the marriage part finally done! Hope you liked that. :)
brandibuckeye - Thank you! Glad you liked it. :)