Chapter 13

He found Éowyn at one of her usual haunts in Minas Tirith. She loved the gardens at the seventh pinnacle and would often wander there.

It was strange to be outside, with the sun shining and the cool spring breeze at his back, but to feel so much darkness in his heart. He stopped by where she was sitting in front a large swath of white flowers that smiled up at the sun.

"A fine chase you have led me on, sister," he greeted her in their own tongue. They knew each other so well that they could usually dispense with niceties.

Éowyn looked up from where she was studying the shape of a rose. "Wáþ?" (Chase?) she answered. "Hwa wáþ?" (What chase?)

He grit his teeth.

He tried to keep his tone light, but failed. "You had me believe a certain lady was… shall we say, interested in more than just friendship." He felt himself gritting his teeth even as he spoke

Éowyn raised an eyebrow when she noticed the muscle working in her brother's jaw. "You mean Lothíriel," she said, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed.

The man nodded, stepping next to his sister and looking toward the tall hyacinths that were growing before them, in front of the white blooms that he could not recognize. The flowers were especially magnificent in the gardens of Minas Tirith, with the purples, pinks, and yellows intermixed before them.

Éowyn let out a loud breath. "If 'chase' is the term that you wish to use, brother, then I will have you know that Lothíriel is quite worth it." She turned to face Éomer, though the man was still staring at the flowers before them. She could feel the anger and frustration flowing off of him, and softened her tone. "What happened?"

"I do not believe you know your friend's mind," he stated.

When he paused, she decided to press further. "She may not speak it aloud, but I know that she is interested in you." He scoffed at that, but Éowyn could see the hurt in his eyes despite his nonchalant attitude. "What exactly did she say to you?"

She watched as her brother took a breath.

"I believe the exact words were, 'I especially dread being made to be someone's wife when I have no say in the matter,'" he said evenly.

When Éowyn said nothing, he turned to face her, only to find that she was quietly laughing into her hands. She was laughing so hard, in fact, that her entire body was shaking.

Éowyn could not help but laugh at the thought of her normally soft-spoken friend standing up to her brother, who was even considered large among his soldiers, and who probably stood head and shoulders above the woman. It was even funnier to think of her shaking her finger and lecturing him. It was rare to find a woman that could handle her brother in such a way. Normally, they all fawned over him because of his titles, and perhaps it was about time he found someone that would do more good for him than just stroke his ego.

"What in Bema's name is so funny?" he finally thundered.

The woman finally found it within herself to stop giggling. "It is just… well…" she was overcome with another fit of laughter before she could stop and get a hold of herself. "Lothíriel has never been someone to stand up for herself—"

"Oh, is that so?" Éomer interrupted sarcastically under his breath.

It was only then that Éowyn stopped smiling. She saw the look on her brother's face, and realized that this was much more serious than she anticipated. "Oh, Bema, Éomer, she did not mean you, in particular!"

The man raised an eyebrow at this. "What do you mean?"

The woman made a sound in the back of her throat of discontent. "Will you stop being so self-absorbed and think, for a moment of what she is going through?" When her brother did not answer once more, she stood from where she was sitting before the gardens, and put her hands on her hips. "She grew up in Dol Amroth as a sheltered princess, always being told what to do, and then all of a sudden, the War of the Ring happens, and she is thrust into a position of leadership. The entire time that Gondor was at war, she was left to rule. And she was damn good at it. Why do you think that Dol Amroth, of all places in Gondor, has continued to prosper?

"She finds out all of a sudden that she is smart, that she is good at a lot of things, like healing and writing and mathematics, things that women are not supposed to be good at. Or at least women in Gondor.

"And now that the world is back at peace again, she has been expected to go back to being this demure princess that pretends like she knows nothing. And she is supposed to let her father and brothers make all her decisions for her. It is no wonder that she is trying to find her own life. It is why she has turned down Lord Belegorn. It is why she has applied for an apprenticeship in the Houses of –"

Éowyn gasped before she could finish that sentence, and Éomer would have laughed had he not been so distraught. The woman clasped her hand over her mouth before she could finish. "Nothing. You have heard nothing from me," she said, before rubbing her temples and groaning.

The king smirked. "It is alright. I know about her application to the Houses of Healing."

That sentence caused his sister to look back up at him. "You do?"

Éomer let out a breath before looking out toward the gardens again, trying to maintain his focus. Éowyn had inundated him with things to think about with regards to Lothíriel, and he was not quite sure he had digested them all just yet. "Yes, I believe that she was trying to get there when we had our exchange."

The woman crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Then you also know that the apprenticeship itself is five years long?"

The man nodded silently.

"You are willing to wait five years for her?" Éowyn asked, her voice sincere.

Éomer could feel a cold sweat come over him. "You are presuming a bit much." But he could feel his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. His sister made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat once more.

She looked up at him again and crossed her arms before her chest. Her gray eyes were narrowed now. "I know your mind, Éomer Éadig, even if you are pretending not to," she said crossly. "You like her. She likes you, even though you seem to think differently."

It was the king's turn to growl with discontent. While he loved his sister, she had always had a way of getting under his skin simply because she seemed to be able to put into words exactly what he was thinking. "Even if that is true, you did just say yourself that she is applying for a five year apprenticeship," he countered.

Éowyn threw up her hands in frustration. "Honestly, Éomer, you really are daft," she cried. "Do you think that Minas Tirith is the only place on Middle-Earth that one can train to become a healer?"

That made the man stop in his tracks. "Are you saying that –"

"My lord Éomer?"

Both siblings looked up from their argument. Standing before them was Lothíriel, who looked both embarrassed and exasperated. Éowyn frowned at her friend, who usually dressed neatly and put much effort into her appearance. It was clear from the dark circles under her eyes that she had not slept, and from the wrinkles in her dress, she had been wearing the dress overnight. Her hair was unpinned and tumbled around her shoulders.

The reason for her appearance was obvious; in her hands, she was clutching two large rolls of parchment, one where the wax had not even set.

Seeing the two, the princess quickly dropped into a curtsy. Even in her sleep deprived state, she could not forget decorum.

As Éomer was bowing, Éowyn immediately saw where she was not needed. "Lothíriel, it is good to see you!" she said, plastering a smile on her face. "Unfortunately, I have quite forgotten that I have an appointment with my midwife to discuss what to expect of the pregnancy and birthing process. But we must talk later!"

With almost unhuman-like speed, the woman was gone, leaving Lothíriel to face the king of Rohan by herself.

Thank you for your patience, readers. I've had quite a lot of difficulties in my personal life recently, and have not had much time to write. But, I've finally found a job for next year once my current one ends, and things should hopefully be more "smooth sailing" from here on out!