A/N: i have decided to skip ahead a few days. why? well, first of all,
i'm too lazy to write every detail of eomer's ride from dol amroth to
edoras. and second of all, i'm also too lazy to write every detail of
lothiriel's wallowing in misery. sorry if you were looking forward to
reading all that. so, without much further ado, i bring you first to
the gardens of dol amroth where we find our favorite princess and then
to the halls of meduseld where we find our favorite imbecile--er, i
mean, king.
::disclaimer:: i own nothing except their thoughts. i promise i'm making no money off of it. not even a penny (haha, get it? a penny for your thoughts...heh. guess not).
Chapter XXIV
June, T.A. 3021
After several days, Lothiriel finally emerged from her room and went to the gardens. Erchirion was the first to see her. "Lothiriel, you look like the pits of Mordor," he said, noting her red eyes and disheveled hair.
"I feel like it, too," she said. "Tell me, what day is it?"
"The third."
"I suppose he's not coming back, then." She sighed and flopped onto a bench. Erchirion sat down beside her. "Tomorrow is the festival. Erchirion, I don't want to be here for it. Do you think Papa would let us go to the cove in Dor-en-Ernil? I haven't been there since before I left for Rivendell."
"I don't see why not. In fact, if you'll go get ready, I'll speak with him right now. We can leave before nightfall." He stood to go. "Should we take anyone else along?" he asked, turning back to her.
Lothiriel shook her head. "Just the two of us. Like old times." After a moment, she stood and returned to her rooms. She quickly packed her tunics and leggings, along with an oil-skin set of swimming garments. As an afterthought, she tucked the swan dagger into her pack. She half-ran to the kitchens where she got salted meat, cheese, and bread enough for a few days. She threw this into her bag as well, and then headed to the stables, where Erchirion was waiting.
"Are you all set?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied, swinging up onto Telan. Together, they set out across the plain between the city and the mountains.
Eomer sat on the throne, one leg dangling over the arm. He'd been in Edoras for less than two days, and already he wished he could go somewhere, anywhere, else. He could not stand it. Everything reminded him of Lothiriel. He looked out at the great hall, remembering the days they had spent together there. It was supposed to be their wedding night--their first night together. He should be lying with his new wife, learning everything about her. But no, she had betrayed his love.
These thoughts fueled his anger and agitation. At last, he heaved a great sigh and went back to his rooms. He pulled clothes out of his chests and threw them in a sack. He went quietly to the kitchens, though he had no reason to be silent: the halls of Meduseld were empty of all souls except himself. There, he raided the pantry for bread and cheese and wineskins. Satisfied that he had enough food for the journey, he slipped out to the stables. He saddled his horse, strapping the bag of food and clothing to the side. He walked Firefoot to the gates, which the guards opened when they saw it was their ruler. Once outside the city, he mounted and rode for the Eastfold and the Anduin.
They reached the cove the next afternoon. Vines had grown over the path down into the valley, so Lothiriel and Erchirion had to hack their way through. "Has no one been here since I left?" asked Lothiriel.
"Mista and I came some when you first left, but it wasn't the same without you," he said.
Lothiriel raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure it wasn't." Erchirion turned red, and she knew she'd managed to corner him. She laughed. "So are you two ever getting married?"
Erchirion hacked away at a branch for several minutes before answering. "We decided that we'll wait until after you are settled in Rohan." Immediately, he knew he'd said the wrong thing because Lothiriel stopped slicing vines.
"You're not getting married, then?" she said, trying to be humorous.
"Lothiriel, look," Erchirion said, sitting down next to her, "I didn't mean...I mean to say, well, he'll come back, I promise."
She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "How can you be so sure? You did not see him. I have never seen him so angry, and I traveled with him for months. I provoked him as much as I possibly could for a while, but he never grew so angry."
"See? That's my point," he replied. "If he was that angry, that means he really loves you. Would he have done anything if he didn't?" Lothiriel thought back again to Bree. He had admitted that he would not have come after her if she hadn't taken Firefoot with her.
"I suppose not," she sniffled. "But he had no right to be so angry. I am the one that should be angry with him. He never gave me a chance to explain myself."
"No, he didn't, did he?" Erchirion's blood was beginning to boil at the thought of his little sister being treated so horribly.
"Ah well. I don't want to dwell on it right now. We came here to forget it for awhile. And I'd like to go swimming," she added.
"Well then, I guess we should finish clearing the path." Erchirion stood and helped Lothiriel up. Silently, they went back to work.
Four days later, Eomer arrived in Osgiliath. He handed his horse to the first stable boy he saw. He strode into Faramir and Eowyn's palace, throwing the doors to the great hall wide open.
The couple was seated on a short dais. "Eomer?" Faramir asked. "Only four days into marriage and you've already left your bride? I knew you were disappointed we could not come to the wedding, but I did not realize it would upset you that much."
"There wasn't one." Eomer sighed. "We--I broke it off."
"Why?" asked Faramir. Eowyn just looked astounded (and pregnant ::snicker::).
"Unresolved issues." Eomer shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.
Eowyn finally found her voice. "Eomer," she said tentatively, "you didn't try to, um, take advantage of her, did you?"
Eomer blinked at his sister. "No, nothing like that." There was an audible sigh of relief from the two people sitting on the dais. Eomer continued. "More like her taking advantage of me."
"What do you mean?" thundered Faramir. "Lothiriel would never take advantage of anyone--least of all anyone she loves."
"Well that's nice to know," snapped Eomer. "Why don't you tell it to Shipmaster Sarn?"
"Eomer? What happened?" Eowyn stepped off the dais and went to her brother. Faramir decided it would be a good time to slip out a side door and give the siblings a chance to talk alone.
Eomer slumped into a chair. "T-ten days ago, I guess it was--Eru, it feels like an age and a day ago- -we were in Dol Amroth, and...and I told her I loved her." He paused, his head in his hands.
"And?" she asked, prompting him to continue.
"And the same afternoon, I saw her kissing another man. Not just any other man, but Sarn, an 'old friend.' Can you believe it, Eowyn? One week before our wedding, and she is kissing another man! If ever I see that tronking orc again, I'll wring his neck!" He trailed off into a string of Rohirric curses that would stun even the least-religious person among the Free Peoples.
"But what did you do, Eomer? Why are you here?" Although his cursing had startled her, Eowyn was not about to be deterred from the story.
"I broke off the marriage and went home, where I was restless. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't do anything without dreaming, thinking, seeing her! She haunted my very existence, Eowyn. So I did the only reasonable thing I could think of: I came to you. And your husband--her cousin." Eomer glared at the door Faramir had exited through (Faramir, who was listening to the conversation through the door, was very grateful that the door was made of solid oak--and that Eomer's dark glare didn't literally shoot daggers).
"Did you let Lothiriel tell you what happened?" Eowyn asked.
"No. Eowyn, I saw what I saw. She kissed the man twice. What else could it mean?"
Eowyn looked at her brother. He seemed ready to break something, so she chose her words carefully in order to save the furniture. "Eomer," she said quietly, "you need to go back. Go back, but be reasonable. Give Lothiriel a chance to explain herself. She owes you that much at least."
"I daresay she does," he muttered.
A/N (again): sorry it jumps between the two so much, but i wanted to keep the timeline intact.
::disclaimer:: i own nothing except their thoughts. i promise i'm making no money off of it. not even a penny (haha, get it? a penny for your thoughts...heh. guess not).
Chapter XXIV
June, T.A. 3021
After several days, Lothiriel finally emerged from her room and went to the gardens. Erchirion was the first to see her. "Lothiriel, you look like the pits of Mordor," he said, noting her red eyes and disheveled hair.
"I feel like it, too," she said. "Tell me, what day is it?"
"The third."
"I suppose he's not coming back, then." She sighed and flopped onto a bench. Erchirion sat down beside her. "Tomorrow is the festival. Erchirion, I don't want to be here for it. Do you think Papa would let us go to the cove in Dor-en-Ernil? I haven't been there since before I left for Rivendell."
"I don't see why not. In fact, if you'll go get ready, I'll speak with him right now. We can leave before nightfall." He stood to go. "Should we take anyone else along?" he asked, turning back to her.
Lothiriel shook her head. "Just the two of us. Like old times." After a moment, she stood and returned to her rooms. She quickly packed her tunics and leggings, along with an oil-skin set of swimming garments. As an afterthought, she tucked the swan dagger into her pack. She half-ran to the kitchens where she got salted meat, cheese, and bread enough for a few days. She threw this into her bag as well, and then headed to the stables, where Erchirion was waiting.
"Are you all set?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied, swinging up onto Telan. Together, they set out across the plain between the city and the mountains.
Eomer sat on the throne, one leg dangling over the arm. He'd been in Edoras for less than two days, and already he wished he could go somewhere, anywhere, else. He could not stand it. Everything reminded him of Lothiriel. He looked out at the great hall, remembering the days they had spent together there. It was supposed to be their wedding night--their first night together. He should be lying with his new wife, learning everything about her. But no, she had betrayed his love.
These thoughts fueled his anger and agitation. At last, he heaved a great sigh and went back to his rooms. He pulled clothes out of his chests and threw them in a sack. He went quietly to the kitchens, though he had no reason to be silent: the halls of Meduseld were empty of all souls except himself. There, he raided the pantry for bread and cheese and wineskins. Satisfied that he had enough food for the journey, he slipped out to the stables. He saddled his horse, strapping the bag of food and clothing to the side. He walked Firefoot to the gates, which the guards opened when they saw it was their ruler. Once outside the city, he mounted and rode for the Eastfold and the Anduin.
They reached the cove the next afternoon. Vines had grown over the path down into the valley, so Lothiriel and Erchirion had to hack their way through. "Has no one been here since I left?" asked Lothiriel.
"Mista and I came some when you first left, but it wasn't the same without you," he said.
Lothiriel raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure it wasn't." Erchirion turned red, and she knew she'd managed to corner him. She laughed. "So are you two ever getting married?"
Erchirion hacked away at a branch for several minutes before answering. "We decided that we'll wait until after you are settled in Rohan." Immediately, he knew he'd said the wrong thing because Lothiriel stopped slicing vines.
"You're not getting married, then?" she said, trying to be humorous.
"Lothiriel, look," Erchirion said, sitting down next to her, "I didn't mean...I mean to say, well, he'll come back, I promise."
She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "How can you be so sure? You did not see him. I have never seen him so angry, and I traveled with him for months. I provoked him as much as I possibly could for a while, but he never grew so angry."
"See? That's my point," he replied. "If he was that angry, that means he really loves you. Would he have done anything if he didn't?" Lothiriel thought back again to Bree. He had admitted that he would not have come after her if she hadn't taken Firefoot with her.
"I suppose not," she sniffled. "But he had no right to be so angry. I am the one that should be angry with him. He never gave me a chance to explain myself."
"No, he didn't, did he?" Erchirion's blood was beginning to boil at the thought of his little sister being treated so horribly.
"Ah well. I don't want to dwell on it right now. We came here to forget it for awhile. And I'd like to go swimming," she added.
"Well then, I guess we should finish clearing the path." Erchirion stood and helped Lothiriel up. Silently, they went back to work.
Four days later, Eomer arrived in Osgiliath. He handed his horse to the first stable boy he saw. He strode into Faramir and Eowyn's palace, throwing the doors to the great hall wide open.
The couple was seated on a short dais. "Eomer?" Faramir asked. "Only four days into marriage and you've already left your bride? I knew you were disappointed we could not come to the wedding, but I did not realize it would upset you that much."
"There wasn't one." Eomer sighed. "We--I broke it off."
"Why?" asked Faramir. Eowyn just looked astounded (and pregnant ::snicker::).
"Unresolved issues." Eomer shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.
Eowyn finally found her voice. "Eomer," she said tentatively, "you didn't try to, um, take advantage of her, did you?"
Eomer blinked at his sister. "No, nothing like that." There was an audible sigh of relief from the two people sitting on the dais. Eomer continued. "More like her taking advantage of me."
"What do you mean?" thundered Faramir. "Lothiriel would never take advantage of anyone--least of all anyone she loves."
"Well that's nice to know," snapped Eomer. "Why don't you tell it to Shipmaster Sarn?"
"Eomer? What happened?" Eowyn stepped off the dais and went to her brother. Faramir decided it would be a good time to slip out a side door and give the siblings a chance to talk alone.
Eomer slumped into a chair. "T-ten days ago, I guess it was--Eru, it feels like an age and a day ago- -we were in Dol Amroth, and...and I told her I loved her." He paused, his head in his hands.
"And?" she asked, prompting him to continue.
"And the same afternoon, I saw her kissing another man. Not just any other man, but Sarn, an 'old friend.' Can you believe it, Eowyn? One week before our wedding, and she is kissing another man! If ever I see that tronking orc again, I'll wring his neck!" He trailed off into a string of Rohirric curses that would stun even the least-religious person among the Free Peoples.
"But what did you do, Eomer? Why are you here?" Although his cursing had startled her, Eowyn was not about to be deterred from the story.
"I broke off the marriage and went home, where I was restless. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't do anything without dreaming, thinking, seeing her! She haunted my very existence, Eowyn. So I did the only reasonable thing I could think of: I came to you. And your husband--her cousin." Eomer glared at the door Faramir had exited through (Faramir, who was listening to the conversation through the door, was very grateful that the door was made of solid oak--and that Eomer's dark glare didn't literally shoot daggers).
"Did you let Lothiriel tell you what happened?" Eowyn asked.
"No. Eowyn, I saw what I saw. She kissed the man twice. What else could it mean?"
Eowyn looked at her brother. He seemed ready to break something, so she chose her words carefully in order to save the furniture. "Eomer," she said quietly, "you need to go back. Go back, but be reasonable. Give Lothiriel a chance to explain herself. She owes you that much at least."
"I daresay she does," he muttered.
A/N (again): sorry it jumps between the two so much, but i wanted to keep the timeline intact.