Chapter 14

Éomer had not yet figured out all the curse words he would use on his sister before he realized that he had been left alone with the princess. What was more, he had suddenly remembered that he was to meet with Aragorn this morning to discuss re-establishing a trade route from the Snowbourn to Cair Andros.

It had been on the list of things to do for nearly six months now, and finally, a port had been re-established at Cair Andros.

Still, standing before Lothíriel, he had a hard time remembering the task at hand. He found, suddenly, that his mouth was completely dry.

Lothíriel took a breath before facing the man before her. She was unsure why exactly she had run after Éomer the way that she had done, except she could not bear for the man to be angry with her. Now, standing before him, she realized how ridiculous she looked, clutching her application to the Houses of Healing, with her day-old dress and unkempt hair.

"My lord Éomer," she began, willing herself to sound confident. "I apologize for what I said earlier. Forgive me, for I have not had much sleep, and those words were not meant for you."

She curtsied once more before looking back up at the man. He made a step toward her, then hesitated, and she could not blame him. She realized that nearly every interaction they had had was fraught with misunderstanding, and she had more than once shown herself to have a sharp tongue.

He was right to be wary.

But there was something in his eyes that made her want to open up to him, to step closer.

"I am afraid that I have not been myself the last few months," she continued. "Ever since I came to Minas Tirith, I have felt as if I have no control over my own life." She swallowed. "But that does not give me the right to act the way I did with you."

The man took another step toward her, and it was enough to close the gap between the two of them. Lothíriel became keenly aware of his scent and seeming magnetic force that drew her to him. Her heart pounded loudly within her chest, and she could feel her breath coming short.

"It is alright," he said softly, his hand reaching out to touch her on the shoulder. She shivered at the warmth of his touch, and she smiled. "I realize that I overstepped my bounds when it came to finding you at the library and this morning. I should not have been so forward, and I will not be in the future."

His words made sense to her logical mind. They had, after all, only known each other for about a week. And yet, her heart sank at the thought of not seeing Éomer.

"You misunderstand," she said quickly. "I do want to see you. It is just…" She trailed off, trying to find the right words. How could she possibly tell him that every time she was near him, she thought about their kiss and how much she wanted to kiss him again? And yet, at the same time, he made everything confusing. Being with him and letting herself be courted by the King of Rohan meant becoming everything that she thought she wanted to reject. How could one possibly be a queen of a realm and also a healer and her own person? "Every time I see you, you make me question what I want."

Those words did not capture even a quarter of what she was trying to say.

Éomer furrowed his brow. "And what is that you want, my lady?"

Her throat seemed to stick at that question. It made her suddenly realize that no man had ever asked her that question before. Certainly, Éowyn and Arwen had asked her what she wanted just yesterday. But really, when had her father, her brothers, or really, any man asked her what she wanted?

And really, what did she want?

She wanted to be a good daughter, someone that her father could be proud of. But at the same time, she wanted to follow her own path, not to just be married off for the glory of her family. She wanted to become a healer, but her father would never allow that.

The King of Rohan, this man that she had only known for a week, was the first man to ask her that question, and it warmed her heart to him. She smiled then. "I think I did not know until now that what I wanted was for a man to ask me what I want," she stated. "Instead of deciding for me."

Éomer was unreadable. His gazed into Lothíriel's face, at her smile, and seemed to be considering her answer. "I have not known you long, Lothíriel," he said slowly. "But from what I do know of you, you seem to be a woman who knows her mind and is unwilling to back down from what she believes in." He had wanted to say, And you fascinate me, but those words died upon his lips.

She gave a small laugh. "I do not believe I know my mind at all," she countered. "One moment, I think I want to apply to be a healer in the Houses of Healing, and the next, after seeing you, I am altogether unsure." Perhaps it is because you make it hard to even think around you.

The king looked at her questioningly. "What about me makes you unsure?"

"Let us just say that you would fit very well into my father's plans," she said.

Those words sounded eerily familiar, and he could not help but think back to what Éothain had said to him at the feast. But do not say I did not let you know of how well the Lady Lothíriel would fit in your plans.

Damn that man. He could see the smarmy smile on his friend's face already.

"And what of your plans, my lady?" he ventured. Now overlaying Éothain's words were his sister's. She likes you, even though you seem to think differently.

Lothíriel blushed at Éomer's bold words. She found she was having difficulty concentrating with his hand on her shoulder, and his face so close to hers. She looked down at the parchment in her hand. "There is a reason I have not submitted this application," she said softly.

It was ridiculous, she thought, that she was even considering this. She had known the man for only a week, for Valar's sake. Was she really going to throw away everything she had dreamed of for a man?

She paused for a moment. She had been so focused on herself, that she had not even asked Éomer what he wanted. "And you, my lord?" she ventured. "What of your plans?"

Those words made the man take in a breath, and it was a moment before he could remind himself that Lothíriel could not read minds. After all, she only knew him to be the King of Rohan. For all she knew, he was here to meet with the King Elessar to discuss the trade relations and build their two countries. She knew nothing of his need to marry for his country's sake.

"My plans in coming to Minas Tirith were to re-establish trading routes with Gondor," Éomer admitted truthfully.

Lothíriel looked up at him, and he could see a corner of her mouth tweaking up into a small smile. "Were those your only plans?"

The man did not smile, but his blue eyes seemed to bore into hers. "If you mean other things, my lady, you were certainly not in my plans." That much, at least, was the truth. The Rohirrim did not tell lies. But immediately, he felt guilty about holding back the full truth.

What would she think, knowing that Rohan now was little more than a war torn, beggar country?

Lothíriel could feel herself blushing. "Nor you in mine." She paused and bit her lip. Standing here, in front of the gardens, where anyone walking by could see them, she was suddenly aware of how conspicuous they were. They were standing toe to toe, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

"Lothíriel, I have been here for a week. We had planned on staying in Minas Tirith for a fortnight at the most. My country needs me," he said slowly. The next words tumbled from his mouth before he could even think about them. "Would you wish to come with us to Edoras?"

The woman's eyes widened, and Éomer could have kicked himself. It was a ridiculous thing to ask. Surely, a princess like Lothíriel would need more than a week to prepare to travel to a completely different country, one that required almost a fortnight of hard riding. And what was more, he was asking her to leave everything she knew to come with him, a man she had barely known for a week.

"There are healing houses in Edoras, and I am told that they train many apprentices from Rohan," the man continued to speak. He usually did not blather on so, but he wanted desperately to make his request seem more reasonable. "And Éowyn is to return with us for at least a short while."

She could feel her heart racing within her chest again. For a moment, she imagined herself riding to Edoras with Éomer, and she had never wanted anything more in the world.

But reality set in immediately.

How could she possibly leave Gondor and her family? What was more, she had known Éomer for a week. They barely knew each other, really. And how could she explain this all to her father?

"I…" the right words would not come. "I … do not speak Rohirric." It was an idiotic thing to say, but it was the first thought to escape her lips. She could see some the light go out of Éomer's eyes. "I mean, I shall ask my father. I would like to Rohan, but …"

The man shook his head with a small smile. "It was wrong of me ask. You belong here, with your family and your people."

"Éomer, I would like to go," she found herself saying. "I just need to speak with my father."

He liked the way she said his name. His smile widened, and Lothíriel was once again struck by how handsome the king of Rohan was. She smiled in return.

It was only when the large clock tower on the seventh pinnacle struck seven that he suddenly remembered he had other tasks this morning.

"Unfortunately, I must meet with Aragorn this morning," he said with a frown. "Shall I see you tonight during supper?"

She nodded. "Of course. And if you would like, we could walk the gardens again."

"I would like that, my lady," he answered. "Until then, I bid you farewell."

He bent to kiss her hand, and Lothíriel shivered at his touch. In a moment, he was gone, and she keenly felt his absence.

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