My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. - Morwen Steelsheen in a letter to her sister
Chapter 50
Dearest Father -
In an ideal world, this would be the letter where I tell you Éomer and I have safely arrived in Rohan and we have settled down in Meduseld without any trouble. However, it is not the ideal world we live in and I am again facing danger and uncertainty.
You will most likely hear from Aragorn what is happening here in the Mark – Éomer sent him a letter as well to keep him up to date. So I will not waste time by reciting the news you will receive anyway. I do not know how things will go, but I am hopeful. More men are arriving every day to join us and we believe the East-Mark at least should wholly raise their arms for Éomer. Perhaps the same will occur in the West-Mark as well, soon as the people learn the truth.
Father, I married him. You may already have heard this from Amrothos or Aunt Ivriniel, and I can only wonder what you must have thought. I know this is not how it was meant to go, but not many things have turned out the way we had planned... and he needs me here – more than you can imagine. I'm doing my best to be his wife and his queen, but only time will tell if I succeeded. I hope you can at least understand my choice, if not approve of it. I feel like his folk need me as well. Here I can do some good at least, and help my husband to be the king his people need. And should we be victorious in this battle, there will be a lot of work in Rohan, for me and for Éomer.
The coming months will most like be challenging, even if we succeed in throwing down the usurper. I don't know – and Éomer is similarly in the dark – how the Rohirrim have managed these past few months. One good thing there is about waging war at this time of the year, because there is no danger that crops may fail while the people are busy in battles. However war is nothing if not uncertain, and Elphir and Erchirion have told me enough stories about warfare that I understand the casualties it may bring. Father, I may have to ask for your help, to send us grain and livestock, because prosperous as the beginning of Éomer's rule was, Rohan has not yet completely recovered from the dark days of the War of the Ring. And this strife is unlike to help with it.
I wish I could promise you all will go well and I'll be fine, but at this point I have no idea of where this road will lead us. Moreover, by the time this letter reaches you, the situation may already have changed. Still, don't worry too much about me. We have some fine allies – you remember Marshal Elfhelm, don't you? He's just as determined to make things right as we are, and his resolve to keep us safe from further danger is truly formidable. He recently married a woman named Lady Ceolwen, who is a Shieldmaiden in the fullest sense of the word, and I have faith in their skill and strength. More men gather around my dear husband every day.
Hopefully all this will pass soon, and I will be able to see you again. I'm really sorry for having to yet again leave you with a letter like this... on the night I first left Pelargir I did not truly understand what a long road I would have to walk, but even if I wanted it would be too late to turn now, and I must travel it until the very end.
Give my love to the rest of the family. I love you, Father.
Lothíriel
A watchful hush fell on the camp on the day after Éomer King and the two éoreds had ridden to hunt orcs. Not much could be done in his absence, especially because he had ordered to stop with the assaults to Feran's outriders; while the point of testing the traitor's strength remained valid, the current situation also introduced some serious uncertainty. It would not be wise to provoke Feran to attack with his full force while the King was not here to lead the defence. At least there were no more attempts on Lothíriel's life, but a heavy guard followed her now everywhere, and Amrothos especially acted like a mother hen from the moment he heard of the affair. Wryly she thought any malicious individuals would probably be more averted by his paranoia than an armed guard. As for the now dead assassin, no one seemed to know the man. Or if they did, they didn't want to be linked with someone who would try to harm the Queen.
One of the things that could be done – and hopefully to the effect of taking care of more problems than just one – was having Éothain train some of the younger riders filling the ranks of the force. The call to arms had attracted not only seasoned riders but also very young folks who did not have much experience of fighting. Some of them Lothíriel would have sent back home, but Ceolwen said these could have some use yet ("If only to swell our numbers in looks. Never underestimate the power of appearing stronger than you actually are", she retorted).
Remembering her husband's words, she also took time to keep the company of the eastern lords, and enjoyed a lengthy dinner with them in the pavilion. She was right in guessing the presence of her brothers, Éowyn and Legolas would be warmly welcomed. What did surprise her was the interest of the nobles in her and also their apparent acceptance – she had thought they would be more likely to be wary of her than the common folk, seeing Éomer's marriage to her meant none of the lords could hope their daughters to be elevated queen. But perhaps this very time roused more of a spirit of unity than strife among the King's supporters... and it didn't hurt to have Ceolwen and Éowyn standing with her, both tall and commanding, looking around the company as they might personally throttle anyone who said a cross word against the young queen.
So they waited, hoping this delay would not dangerously expose them to vulnerabilities the traitor could use to his own benefit. It was a situation Lothíriel hoped wouldn't last long, as she did not believe anyone particularly enjoyed not knowing what might come to take place. And she knew full well that if Feran took this opportunity to attack, she wouldn't know what to do or devise a strategy to hold him off. If it came to a battle, they needed Éomer to lead it. Moreover the stagnation and the gathering of a considerable number of people did not only affect the mood but also would cause serious food shortage if this continued much longer. Altogether it was clear, like Éowyn said gravely, that something needed to happen soon.
Edelric returned speeding from the western parts of the realm two days after her brothers, Éowyn and Legolas had joined the company of those faithful to the King. At the time of his arrival Lothíriel was still asleep – after tossing about on the bedroll and tremendously missing her husband she had finally passed out. It was a guard's voice that awakened her into the waking world.
"My lady", he called her, "my lady, Lord Edelric is here. He asks to talk with you at once."
She rubbed her eyes, trying to fight off the remnants of dreams still clouding her mind.
"Of course. Just give me a moment", she grumbled as she got up on her feet clumsily. She was cold and tired and thought of the royal chambers in Meduseld with no small amount of longing. But even as she started to pull on her boots, she realised this must have been Éomer's life since he had been a young captain, perhaps even longer. War camps at the mercy of weathers, cold nights and getting little to no sleep, dull and tasteless food... a poignant wish – yearning almost – came to her, to give him peace, to give him comfort and warmth.
Once she had splashed her face with some cold water and dressed, she was feeling slightly more awake. Then Edelric entered the tent and she managed a smile for him.
"Good morning. Or is it too early for that?" she asked in an attempt of jest, but the serious look on the young man's face quickly cut the wings of her humour. She frowned, "Is something wrong?"
"My lady, I'm very sorry for having to wake you up when the sun is not yet risen, but I bring some news you should hear right away. I was hoping to give them to the King as well, but seeing he's not present..." said Erkenbrand's son and shook his head. He was frowning as well as he spoke, "Lothíriel Queen, it seems that Feran is soon to make his move. I saw a great force gathered at Dunharrow, and I deemed nearly all of the West-Mark was gathered there – those of them who have not fled east, that is. It may be only a day or two now that he will ride east to face the King's men."
A part of her was convinced she was dreaming still. However, the cool of the morning was too real, the feeling of foreboding too heavy. It is really happening.
"Well", she spoke at length, "first I'll send someone to wake up the others, and then we'll have some hot tea. This is going to take some extraordinary effort."
Less than half an hour later, the tent was filled with people. Those of the riders with any military rank in the encampment were present to hear Edelric's news, but though debates went on until sun was high up in the sky, there was no real agreement of what should be done. Eventually Lothíriel called an end to the debate.
"It is no use arguing like this. I do not think we should make any moves towards Feran yet, not without the express order of the King. In my opinion, the only thing we can do right now is send word to him as soon as possible, and wait for his commands", she stated, which earned sufficiently many supporting mutters and grumbles. All the same she did not miss the concern on the faces about her.
The tent cleared of people again, but others stayed: there were Edelric, Ceolwen, Éothain and Éowyn. When the doorway had cleared, her brothers and Legolas entered as well. Amrothos was, unsurprisingly, the one to see the humour in the situation.
"It sounded pretty intense in here. I have hard time believing my little sister would be in the middle of a war council while me and Erchirion waited outside", he said, grinning at her.
"Queens of the Riddermark sometimes have very different responsibilities than their Gondorian sisters. She is literally the King's voice in his absence", Éowyn said and shrugged. She lifted her eyebrows, "I half expected you to demand to join in."
"We would have, if we understood a single word of Rohirric", Erchirion stated. He too smiled now, though his eyes remained serious. "As a matter of fact it was a better idea to stay outside. Young Arric was kind enough to translate everything."
"Brother, there are some who would call that spying", Lothíriel pointed out, rubbing her forehead. Now she truly understood what Éomer had meant saying how draining this could be. She gave a pointed look to Amrothos and Erchirion, "You're lucky to be my brothers."
"Oh, I don't forget that for a single day", Amrothos said lightly. But their older sibling had no time for such japing.
"So, you are going to send for Éomer? What can he do from many leagues away?" Erchirion asked.
"We don't actually know how many leagues away he is. He promised to send riders, and I'm expecting one this very day. But he is still the King and I can't make decisions in a situation like this. And we both know I'm not a commander at battle. Most likely I would just get myself killed along with great many people who deserve better. This is his war to fight", she said and shook her head.
"I just can't believe it. Half of the Mark fighting for this traitor... surely this is a nightmare and I shall soon wake up?" Éowyn muttered, looking equally weary.
"My lady, I still believe many of the men riding with him just need to see their King", Edelric said determinedly. "They have heard of the King's return of course, but now there is also this rumour about Silfren. I suppose it was inevitable such news would spread fast. And the people are anxious to see if there is any truth to the news of Éomer's return. Once they realise it's true he has come back indeed, they will renounce the usurper."
"Feran must really like that. I would pity him if he was not so hateful", Ceolwen grumbled and made a face.
"Don't we all?" Lothíriel asked and shook her head. Edelric looked at her then and grinned.
"There is apparently a rumour going about you as well, my lady", he said then.
"And what is that?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows. This was something she had not thought to hear.
"Well, you shouldn't really mind it much, but... Feran has apparently heard you ride with the King and is trying to use it to his own benefit. He's spewing this nonsense about how the real Éomer King would never let women ride into battle, as though he knew what moves in our lord's mind. According to him it is even worse that the so called impostor allows his own wife take part in battle", said Erkenbrand's son. At his words, Lothíriel huffed.
"Hah! One of these days I am not going to allow him to continue his lie-spewing life much longer", she said ominously. Erkenbrand's son grinned at that, and Ceolwen sniggered under her breath – even Éowyn appeared like she was fighting a smile. Amrothos looked at her proudly like a father might regard their young learning something essential.
"There are of course those who agree with Feran, but I've also heard many admiring accounts", Edelric continued, looking straight at Lothíriel now. "Many are saying it is wonderful that the Riddermark might have a queen who fights beside her husband. And a word of your nickname, my lady, has spread as well. They are already calling you the Lioness of the Mark."
A silence fell. Lothíriel felt their eyes on herself, but she wasn't sure which gaze she should meet. The name...
Lioness of the Mark.
Ceolwen reached to touch her arm. The Shieldmaiden's face was serious when she spoke.
"You have earned that name, my lady. You are our Lioness", she said solemnly. Edelric nodded quietly, and Éowyn and Éothain wore the silent faces of agreement.
Lothíriel believed them.
Her brothers asked her to come and eat with them, but before she could do that, there was one more thing she needed to take care of. So, when the company was leaving the tent, she reached to touch Legolas' arm.
"Do you mind staying behind for a moment? I would like to talk with you", she said. The Elf smiled as a response.
"What is it, my friend?" he inquired when they were alone.
"I was thinking of asking for a favour, Legolas. I know you have already done so much for us, but... I can't think of a faster rider. And I have a feeling it should be you", Lothíriel said softly. She then glanced at the package which was now again neatly closed, next to the wooden box. The Elf followed the line of her gaze and saw what she was looking at – she never needed to utter the words for him to catch her meaning.
Legolas smiled.
"Of course. I would be happy to deliver them – along with the news, that is", he said softly. Then inspiration hit her.
"Give these to Elfhelm. I know Aragorn intended I choose the moment, but my heart tells me I can't be there when he should have them. But Elfhelm knows Éomer, and I believe he can also see to this task as well as I could", she said to the Elf. He nodded.
"It will be done", he merely said.
"Thank you. He must hear what is happening. And I need to know what I should do", she said, worrying her lip. Legolas touched her shoulder gently.
"You are doing very well, Lothíriel. You are no longer that unhinged princess I first saw at the training grounds..." he told her and she had to smile. "Don't worry, Lothíriel Queen. I shall ride to find your husband."
By the time she finally sat beside Éowyn with some hot stew and a piece of bread, Lothíriel felt like she had already done a full day's job. She was ravenous as well, seeing there had not been time for breakfast. It was now, rather than any foe she had met or hardship of travelling on southern roads, that she truly understood how little she had known of the world before – or the life that had shaped her beloved horselord for so many years.
Éowyn was kind enough to let her satisfy the worst of her hunger before speaking up.
"I know you have a lot on your mind right now, and much to worry about", she said at last, ever the one to not waste time on talking idle things. "But I was wondering if you might have time to talk with Éothain."
Lothíriel glanced at her friend with a mixture of curiosity and worry.
"Is something wrong with him?" she asked.
"That is what I'd like to find out. I tried to talk to him but he is best described as unresponsive... it is understandable he too has had hard time, but he is a dear friend of my brother, and I'd like to know if there is something more on his mind", Éowyn answered at length. She looked down into her bowl of food, "I was thinking maybe he'd feel more inclined to speak to his queen, even if he has known me longer than you. After all, you are Éomer's representative when he is away."
The young queen had full trust in her friend's sharp perception and also in her knowledge of people, so she deemed there must be something on Éothain's mind.
"Of course I will talk with him", she said and gave a smile to her friend. But then she had to frown, "I just wonder what would have been the better solution. Would he be happier if Éomer had dismissed him the day we came to Harrow?"
"Who can say?" Éowyn retorted. "Just... be patient with him. Éothain is a man at his best age, but whether he can fight again remains to be seen."
This in mind she sent one of her guards to fetch the man, and ask to meet him in her and Éomer's tent. There she met him not a quarter hour later. Limping in after her he briefly (and somewhat gruffly) commented how he had always known what a good choice for queen she was. She did not comment on that.
Once she had asked him to sit down and poured them both some ale, she cleared her throat and tried to choose the right words.
"Captain Éothain", she started gingerly at last, "I did not have a chance to tell you how glad I am now that you have joined us again."
"Aye. The King never did officially release me from his service, so I thought I should come back to him and offer my help at this time. I was sad to find him gone", said the crippled man before her.
"He will return as soon as he can", she said softly, searching his eyes, "As for your family... I'm sure the only reason he did not release you already is because there simply wasn't time for him to think of it. You deserve to go home and be with your own."
If she had thought to invoke a positive reaction in him by uttering those words, she was mistaken. If anything, her words made him look sharply at her.
"Do you deem me unable of service, then?" Éothain asked, his voice harsh and cold – more so than she'd ever have expected of him. Before, it might have hurt her feelings. But not anymore.
"No. That is not my place", she said, keeping the gentle tone still. He blinked and then his expression turned into an embarrassed one.
"I am sorry, my lady. I should not snap at you like that. You are my queen and you deserve every respect", Éothain muttered and looked away in shame.
"It is quite all right. I know you are not going through easy things right now", she said, hoping he might see the compassion on her face. She reached for his shoulder, "Do not give up hope. My husband values you more than you know. Your worth is not your leg."
Éothain met her gaze sadly.
"In the land of warriors it just might be."
The Elf arrived at the day's dying.
Éomer and a guard of some thirty men had been making back to the main camp, for he was anxious to return not only to his queen but also to hearing more news from Edelric – the young man should be back by now and perhaps had some new tidings. The situation could shift very quickly in war, and he didn't like having to divide their forces like this.
The rest of his men would be riding after him, now about half a day's journey back to the lands of Eastemnet where they had hunted and fought orcs. The alarms had made him think of a far more threatening force than the one they had eventually found and slaughtered, but Éomer wasn't certain it had been in vain. Any remaining orcs would think twice before making an appearance, and he would be left free to deal with Feran.
"Sire, is that an Elven rider?" Elfhelm asked suddenly and both their eyes were fixed on a figure riding towards them; even from afar they could see it was not a Man approaching the company.
"Must be. Though I don't know why an Elf would be travelling here of all places", Éomer said and frowned. This was not the first time he encountered an Elf on these plains when he least expected it – dryly he mused it would not have even been much of a surprise if Aragorn himself had sprung forth.
Soon the traveller started to get closer to them and he saw it was an old friend on his way to meet them.
"What is Legolas doing in the Mark?" Elfhelm asked in astonishment. "The last I heard he was in Ithilien."
"No doubt we will hear soon", Éomer retorted and lifted up his hand. At this sign the company came to a halt.
"Well met, my friend! It is good to see you riding again the fields you belong to", called Legolas as he came to a speaking distance of the company. "I am glad to find you so soon, as I had feared I may have to search you far and wide. Fortunately I met one of your Riders on the way, and he pointed me to your direction."
"Well met, Legolas. It has been too long", said the King of the Mark. Curiously he regarded the Elf, "But pray tell, what brings you here, and why were you looking for me? Has Aragorn sent you?"
"I did come to the Mark on Aragorn's behalf, but I am here now because your queen asked for it. There are some news you need to hear soon as possible", Legolas said, his voice turning serious.
"Then please go ahead", said Éomer and his brow furrowed. Briefly the Elf's eyes lingered on Silfren and he smiled, but then he moved on to explain the tidings Edelric had brought. And as he proceeded, Éomer's heart grew more and more grim: the war he had seen in horizon was now upon them.
When Legolas had finished his report, Éomer remained silent. The numbers he went through in his head were bleak as they were clear - the men riding with him would not add enough to those in the main camp, and the larger part of his force would not reach Lothíriel's company before Feran. The folly of this all! Had he done wrong in riding away? Had he abandoned her to the traitor's mercy?
But then he remembered who he was, who he had been; he had beaten worse odds and outsmarted his way from even more hopeless situations, and Béma knew he would do so this time too.
His Queen was in the camp, as were many of the lords of the East-Mark... and Éowyn was there as well, along with two of Imrahil's sons... it would seem like the very core force of the King's supporters, or at least a prize Feran would not be able to resist from trying to pluck. And that very thing was his chance. He could play the usurper's ambition against him.
The plan formed quickly in his mind. Oh, it would be dangerous for Lothíriel, but she would just have to endure long enough to give him the time he needed. After these past few months, Éomer knew to trust the courage and skill of his queen.
He turned to look at Elfhelm and Legolas again. He explained them his plan and the two listened in silence, their faces bearing no witness to what they thought. The Elf only gave a small nod in agreement when Éomer stated perhaps Legolas would be best equipped to ride back to the Queen and tell her what he needed her to do.
When the King had finished, his Marshal spoke.
"It is dangerous indeed. Do you think she can manage it?" he asked. But Legolas was smiling, and the King of the Mark knew already what he made of it.
"Aye, I do. After all she has done for me, don't you think I should trust her?" Éomer asked.
"Very well. But if we mean to do this, we must depart at once and retrieve the rest of the riders", Elfhelm said, but suddenly Legolas interrupted him.
"I must ask you to wait for one moment more. I need to speak with you, Lord Elfhelm. In private, if you will", said the Elf. Éomer and his Marshal exchanged a bemused look, but Elfhelm followed Legolas nonetheless, and the two guided their horses some way from them to speak alone.
"What do you suppose they're planning, Sire?" asked a rider by the name of Folcred, but Éomer could only shrug.
"Some Elven business no doubt", he commented wryly. "Don't worry about it. Legolas is a friend of the Mark and myself. Not to mention he said he has come because Lothíriel Queen asked him. Whatever he has in his mind must be important."
Folcred made a vague sound at the back of his throat but did seem consoled by his king's words. Even so, Éomer was curious, but that he kept to himself. He turned to look ahead and to go in his mind through the plan... he thought of all that could go wrong and all that could go right. Would this be the decisive battle of this war? Would he soon be seeing Edoras again?
By the time the Elf and the Marshal were finished, his company was already at the point of crawling with anxiety.
Elfhelm came back to Éomer, one hand behind his back and grinning like he just might burst right there. As for Legolas, he had already turned his horse again and was to return to the road, and to bring the word of the King to the Queen. There was absolutely no one as qualified as him for the task.
"What did he say?" asked Éomer when his friend rejoined the company.
"He just gave me the Queen's orders", said Elfhelm.
"What would those be?" Éomer inquired and his curiosity grew.
"Two things, and this would be the first", his friend replied and brought forth his hands from behind his back. The King of the Mark only had a second's time to see the wonder and surprise on the faces of men close to him, and then all thoughts fell from him as he took in the thing Elfhelm was holding in his hands.
For one moment he thought he was dreaming. And yet, even as he reached his trembling hands to take the object the Marshal was offering to him, he did not startle awake. The feel of the metal was familiar in his bare hands, and there were the engraved horses and the rising sun... the horsetail shined white as snow in the waning sunlight. He had thought this helmet had been lost in the south, most like buried with his men. But there it was in his hands again and remembering the last time he had worn it, he had a brief urge to throw it away.
"Sire", Elfhelm spoke, his tone soft, "it is time."
There was so much in those simple, short words – an entire world and a future. And Éomer knew he was right.
So he lifted up the helmet, placed it there upon his head... and once more its familiar weight was on him.
The white horsetail of Éomund's line would fly in the winds of the Riddermark once more.
The sun was just kissing the sky when Legolas returned from his errand, which he had executed with all the speed one could expect from an Elven messenger. Upon his return Lothíriel thought she saw a slight smile on the Elf's fair face and hoped it was a good sign, even though Éomer was not riding with him like she had wildly wished. Having endured the foreboding atmosphere in the camp she was growing desperate for some good news. Even now the scouts were reporting that Feran was at last on the move. For that very reason Ceolwen was busy overseeing the men fortifying the encampment, but even with the rampart of spikes and a dike in the works it was obvious those would not hold back Feran for ever. They had hoped to dismay as many as they could into surrendering their arms, but it was not going to happen without Éomer. No matter what they devised to fight back the usurper, it wouldn't matter in the end. The outcome of the battle depended entirely on whether the King of the Mark could make it here or not.
Elfhelm's wife had been explaining the plans of defence to the young queen when a guard arrived to inform her of Legolas' return, and she told him to bring the Elf to her right away. Her companions, consisting of Éowyn, Edelric and her brothers, exchanged a look between themselves.
She had hoped somehow Éomer would beat the odds and arrive before Feran, but Legolas came alone from his quest. He did not indeed look like he was coming back with any grave tidings – though with elves one could never know for sure.
"Lady Queen", he called her as he came, "I have fulfilled your request. Éomer King has been warned of the usurper's approach."
"What did he say? Is he riding back?" Lothíriel asked right away.
"Surely that old fox has some trick up his sleeve?" Amrothos inquired. The entire day, he had been wearing this doubtful look as though he was considering if he could somehow grab his sister and whisk her away without the Rohirrim catching him in the act.
"Please, tell us what my brother says", Éowyn said for her part. However, if they were expecting Legolas to spill everything on the spot, they were mistaken. For he glanced about the people around the Queen and shook his head.
"I am afraid Éomer King insisted I speak with his queen alone first", Legolas said steadily. This did not seem to satisfy the company at all – her brothers frowned and Éowyn looked downright surprised.
"I'm sure Éomer has a good reason", Lothíriel spoke up before the others could voice out any malcontent. "I will speak with you later."
She turned to look at her Elven friend again, "Perhaps you would like to join me in our tent?"
"Of course", he replied and fell to her side as they made way for where her and Éomer's tent was located.
"I trust he is all right?" she asked before they got to their destination. Though she knew her husband was a very capable warrior and he had been fighting orcs since he had been but a young rider, she still worried. Most like she always would when he was away.
"He was hale as ever when I last beheld him", Legolas said and gave her a smile before his face turned more serious again, "Even before the southern campaign I saw in him the makings of a great king. But now I perceive all that potential is sharpened and gleaming, like the deadly steel of a spearhead. Whatever pain and suffering there has been... it is like tempering a fine blade. And not many would have emerged from such tempering like he has – stronger, perhaps stranger. But greater nonetheless."
As Legolas spoke, Lothíriel could but listen as though a spell was put on her. She glanced at him and saw his eyes looking far ahead, perhaps beyond this moment. It made her feel oddly breathless. But his words also made her feel like whatever he'd tell her it could not be hopeless tidings. Her husband had some kind of a plan in mind... he was once more that resolute leader of men she knew him to be.
So, soon as they reached the privacy of her and Éomer's tent and she had bid the Elf to sit down, Legolas began to explain what the King of the Mark had told him. Quietly she listened to him resting her chin on her cupped hand. Once he had finished she sat quiet, going over what he had jut told her. The plan was not without risks, but she did not think it was impossible for her to manage. And her husband knew that.
"Do you think you can do it?" Legolas asked, though his expression seemed to imply he already knew what she made of it.
"Yes, I do think so", she said at length. "It's not going to be easy, but now is not a time to be afraid of what may happen. If this is what my king commands, then I have to try."
She frowned then, "Do you think we can do it? Are we ready to beat Feran?"
"I cannot say. At the very least, you and your king don't lack the spirit", he stated softly, and she chortled.
"One has to wonder how do the Elves ever get anything done. You always say yes and no at the same time", she grumbled, but he laughed – a clear, silvery sound that was somehow uplifting against the face of what was to come.
"Why do you think Ilúvatar made us immortal?" he asked jovially. She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. Then she sobered and looked at him again.
"I think I'm going to need your help, if you are willing to give it. Are you up to some sneaking and plotting?" Lothíriel asked.
"Sneaking and plotting are the reason I have dealings with Men", he replied, his bright eyes glinting in a way she could only call hopeful.
Yes. We can do this.
She let out a small breath and gathered her thoughts again, preparing for what she would have to do.
A time had come to put on the orange dress once more.
The dawn was nearly at hand when the King's Riders reached at last the site of camp. Folcred had ridden before him to rouse the muster and make sure they'd be ready once Éomer King would arrive.
As for the King himself, they had ridden through the night and rested only for a couple of hours. Most of the ride Éomer had spent talking with Elfhelm and planning their strategy. He had a good feeling about it and he believed there was a fair chance of victory, but it depended on whether Lothíriel could carry out her part and by him the time he needed. He had faith in her at any rate. If the months that had passed had taught him something, it was how completely he could trust the woman he loved.
At his arrival Deorwine came to meet him. Past days had proven his worth and Éomer was seriously contemplating raising him a Marshal once the matter of Feran had been cleared out.
"Sire", called Deorwine as he came, "We have prepared as you commanded. All is ready and we are set to ride whenever you command."
"Good. We shall depart before sunrise", Éomer said as he came to a halt on a top of a hill, overlooking the camping site – much less definitive than the one his wife and the others were staying at. This was, after all, a muster on the move.
Dawn had yet to chase away the half-light of the hour, but it was not long now that the Sun would rise, and his arrival had been noted already. All around he saw men rising, mounting their horses – down in the dale and on the hillsides, all of them fresh... all ready for a hard ride ahead. Now the Riders of the Mark were waiting for his command in this pre-dawn gloom.
"Eorlingas!" Éomer called, his voice echoing on the hills, "To war!"
And a thousand voices answered: "To war!"
A/N: Here is a new chapter! I can tell you we are now getting closer to end of this story, which does feel kind of bizarre to me. I have been writing this for an entire year now and in a lot of ways it feels like this story has lived with me during that time.
Feran is now on the move, and it is probably very soon that we see what our heroes will do as a response. I know it is all very vague what Éomer is actually planning to do, but perhaps we'll get more info in the next installment. You may also have noticed two éoreds =/= thousand men. That will be explained as well, so stay tuned!
As for "the white horsetail of Éomund's line", I came up with this idea the white horsetail helmet is traditional for the professional riders of their line. There is no canon to back up the idea, but it is fun to invent small things like that for the story. Anyway, getting back the helmet is another way for Éomer to find again the man he used to be, and perhaps reconnect even more with his duty and heritage. It doesn't come entirely untroubled of course, because he has not forgotten the last time he wore it. However, perhaps this also means accepting what happened.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Quote in the beginning originally by George R. R. Martin.
Inspiration for the chapter: Of Monsters and Men - King and Lionheart
Vilwerin - Thank you! I must say, this last part of the story has been truly a blast to write, and I'm glad to hear it is enjoyable also to read! Reuniting Lothíriel with her brothers was emotional for me as well. :)
Jo - As a writer, I am always happy to hear I've made people cry! :D That sounds so wrong but I can't help it.
MairaElleth - It was definitely a good thing for her to see her brothers. She has been away from her family for so long, and having Erchirion and Amrothos there helps her on many levels. Reconciliation was needed between her and Erchirion, because I would imagine their last confrontation had weighed on them both. And goosebumps are always good! :)
Thalia - It was really quite a packed chapter! I'm afraid most of these close to ending chapters will be so. I've got a lot of story threads I have yet to tie up.
Orc attacks were genuine indeed, and perhaps we'll hear about it more in the next update. The fact that there are many Shieldmaidens rallying for Éomer should, I hope, show that he is widely supported despite Feran and his shenanigans.
brandibuckeye - Legolas does have some busy times before him yet! :)
Talia119 - The main thing is you did review! Your comments are always very welcome.
The assassin is discussed in length in this chapter, but I imagine he is not given more thought because everyone are so concerned about what will happen with Feran. As for the orc attack, it seems to have been a genuine one!
I thought about bringing Faramir into the picture as well, but somehow it felt more natural to write her as coming alone. Hopefully we can soon reunite her again with Faramir!
Loyal reader - I'm thinking there will be four, five more chapters after this one. So we are getting close to the end now, don't worry. I never imagined this story would be so long, which is perhaps for the better... I would never have dared to write this if I had known!
Also thank you for your words! I am really flattered to hear I make it so high on your top list. *blushes*
