In the movie, they made Éothain that boy who alerted Edoras of the attacks in the Westfold. In the book (and also in this story), Éothain is a soldier under Éomer. So, since the movie borrowed Éothain for some other purpose, I will borrow Éothain's sister (in the movie) for my own purpose. Muahahahaha…

Chapter 12 : The Perfect Creature

Lothíriel crept as silently as she could along the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone. She folded her cloak as she walked, not expecting there to be anyone to bump into.

Which was why she hit Isindil head-on without even seeing him.

He caught her in his arms, and pulled back, holding her at an arm's length. "Lothíriel!" he said in a tone that held a tinge of horror. He looked at the cloak in her hands, and her dress, which not only showed grass stains, but was also slightly damp from the frost of the winter morning. "Where have you been?"

"I went riding at night," she replied defensively. "I…"

"You mean you were out all night?" Now he was really beginning to sound horrified.

"No! I mean… yes. But I wasn't alone! Éomer was with me," Lothíriel said, thinking that Isindil would relax if he heard that she was with the King of Rohan.

He didn't.

"Out all night alone with a man!" Isindil's face was beginning to turn red, and his tone was beginning to rise. Lothíriel considered asking him to quieten down, but gave up on that idea just as quickly as she thought of it. "Lothíriel, what would your father say if he knew!"

"You needn't tell him, if you're so afraid," Lothíriel retorted. "And anyway, nothing happened. We just went riding and saw the sunrise. It's what he used to do with his sister. Besides, I heard you say yourself that Éomer's a good man. Surely you can trust him with me?"

Isindil released his grip on Lothíriel, shaking his head. "One day you will be the death of me, princess," he muttered, and then went on his way again, leaving Lothíriel free to return to her room and get at least an hour's sleep before breakfast.

"My Lord Éomer?"

Éomer turned to see Isindil behind him. "Oh, Isindil. What may I do for you?" he asked politely. Isindil was no prince, no lord, but he was still the most trusted friend of Prince Imrahil, and that gave him a good standing wherever he was. Besides, he was also Lothíriel's chaperone on this visit.

"I bumped into the princess not too long ago. She… she spent the whole night out?" Isindil sounded uncertain, as if he had no idea how to go about the issue.

"Ah. Yes, she did. I was with her, though, and no harm came over her. I'm sorry I didn't speak with you about it first. It was done on impulse, and I shouldn't have asked her along," Éomer apologised. I should have spoken with him first. If anything had happened to Lothíriel, he would have been held responsible… but what could happen to Lothíriel? I would never let her get hurt.

"Yes, perhaps you should have spoken with me about it first," Isindil said thoughtfully. Then he smiled. "But that's all right; no harm has come over her. And I came to thank you."

"Thank me?" Éomer frowned, not understanding. "Why is there a need to thank me? Come, let us sit down, there's no use standing around the middle of the hall."

Isindil gave his assent. "There is need to thank you," he continued, once they were seated, "because of the change you have brought to the princess."

"Change? That I have brought? I cannot say that I understand."

Isindil leaned forward to speak. "Princess Lothíriel… I've known her since she was a babe. I've seen her grow up, taught her things, accompanied her on journeys… she is like a daughter to me. And her father and I used to worry that she would be afraid of change forever. After her mother died, Lothíriel… she changed. She no longer wanted to leave Dol Amroth, she no longer wanted to see, or try, or do anything different. She just wanted to live a quiet life in Dol Amroth. To get her to leave the city, even for a little while, was next to impossible. She was trying to back out of her first journey to Rohan even as we mounted our horses. But she's changed now, after she left Rohan that time. First she volunteered to go to Ithilien, and now she came to Rohan with no need for any coaxing. In fact, she seemed quite happy to come. You have no idea how relieved her father is from this change in his daughter."

"Relieved? Why?"

Isindil sighed. "Prince Imrahil would never make his daughter do anything against her wishes, but everyone expects that as she gets older, she will one day have to marry. The Prince was worried that if she was to keep to herself her whole life, if she was to just spend every day of her life hovering about in her father's house, she would never marry, never learn how it is to fall in love." He looked at Éomer significantly. "Which is why he is also relieved that you and the princess get along so well, my Lord."

Get along so well… Éomer's eyes widened when he realised what Isindil was suggesting. He gave a little laugh. "Sir, Lothíriel and I are good friends, yes, that I admit willingly. Lothíriel, in her own way, reminds me of my sister Éowyn. They're both spirited, lively, and they bring such light to the lives of the people they meet. And I confess that I do love Lothíriel, but I have never had any thought of marry her. She is to me just another sister. I have never thought about her as anything more."

Isindil nodded in understanding, and they left the subject behind.

"Let's go riding at night again!" Lothíriel suggested excitedly as they strolled about the city after breakfast. "It was fun last night."

"But you were caught this morning by Isindil, I understand," Éomer said dryly. "He wasn't very pleased, I should think."

"Did he talk to you and say that I couldn't go riding again?" Lothíriel asked, looking crestfallen. "He worries too much, you know. Especially when my father isn't around. It's as if he's afraid that I'd just suddenly drop dead before his eyes."

"That's because he'll be held responsible if anything happens to you," Éomer said gently. "I don't suppose we should go riding about at night again, not so soon. And the next time we do, we should probably speak to him about it first, or ask him along."

"Oh all…" Lothíriel began, but was cut off when a kerchief was blown over by the wind, and all but blinded her. Éomer grabbed the kerchief to let her regain her sight. "Where did that come from?" Lothíriel demanded.

Éomer was spared from having to answer her (not that he knew the answer himself), because Éothain rushed up to them, with a very pretty woman hurrying behind them. "My lord Éomer! My lady Lothíriel!" he gasped. "I'm so, so sorry… the wind was so strong it just blew away…"

"I'm so sorry," the woman cut in. "The wind, it just blew away my kerchief. Oh… oh how embarrassing!" She was completely red, too, leaving no room for doubt that she was embarrassed.

Lothíriel smiled as Éomer returned her kerchief. "It's all right. It could have happened to anyone."

Éomer nodded to the woman. "Yes, it's perfectly all right. I don't suppose we have met?"

"My lord, this is my sister, Freda," Éothain said. "She just came from the Westfold two weeks ago. You have met her before, but a very long time ago, I don't suppose you remember…"

"Freda!" Éomer exclaimed. "Of course I remember. Why, it really has been a very long time. Almost ten years, I believe."

Freda bowed her head. "Actually, it has been ten years, my lord. I'm flattered that you still remember. How have you been, my lord?"

"Very good," Éomer replied happily. "I definitely can't find anything to complain about. And you? I was in the Westfold a few months ago, but I did not see you."

"Life in the Westfold was simple and peaceful, but I decided to come to Edoras, after my mother died. I live with Éothain now," Freda replied politely. Lothíriel was impressed. Freda was not only pretty with her long blond hair and hazel eyes, but she was also well mannered and friendly. And submissive and all those other ladylike things.

"I'm so sorry to hear of your mother. But at least you aren't alone here in Edoras. Éothain, you and your sister must dine with us at dinner tonight. It would be most pleasant," Éomer said gallantly.

Éothain and Freda were absolutely delighted, and agreed at once. Then they went on their way, and Lothíriel and Éomer on theirs.

"Well, I never thought that I would see Freda again," Éomer said to Lothíriel. "I only saw her once when she came to Edoras to visit Éothain. She was only fifteen then. My, it is good to see her again."

"I'm sure it is," Lothíriel replied absently. Something was stirring in her, something else that she didn't understand. She didn't know what to make of it, but it seemed like she wished that they hadn't bumped into Freda at all. She wished that Freda wasn't such a lovely person.

Dinner was a most pleasant affair. Éothain and Freda were there, and Lothíriel, and Isindil had joined them as well. Pleasant conversations went back and forth over the dinner table, and Freda proved to be a most interesting character. She had a way of telling things that made life in the Westfold seem to be filled with adventures.

"The way you put it, Freda, makes me want to move to the Westfold," Éomer said cheerfully.

Freda blushed again, and bowed her head once more. "You flatter me, my lord. I'm not that good a speaker."

"Oh yes you are," Éomer insisted. "When Éothain told me about life in the Westfold, it was all I could do not to fall asleep!"

"He's not lying," Éothain admitted.

Freda laughed, a delicate tinkling melody that just made Éomer smile.

"You're not the only one who wants to move to the Westfold now, King Éomer," Isindil said. "I myself would like to venture there and see it with my own eyes!"

Freda laughed again, flattered to receive yet another compliment.

Dinner had been a most horrid affair, Lothíriel thought to herself as she hurried back to her room. She had sat in silence the whole time, toying with her food and eating little, watching as Freda entertained everyone. It was plain that everyone loved Freda, she was such a perfect creature. Polite, docile, delicate, friendly, interesting, entertaining, beautiful, graceful… the list of good qualities the woman possessed could go on and on forever! And what irked Lothíriel the most was that she quite liked Freda herself.

As she slammed the door shut and stalked over to sit on her bed, she realised with some horror what she felt. I'm jealous of Freda! And it was true, as much as she didn't want to believe it. She was very, very jealous of Freda, because Freda was so perfect, and because everyone paid so much attention to her. Especially… especially Éomer.