Ugh I totally screwed my Geography exam today. And I screwed my Social Studies yesterday. I can just see my 2 humanities subjects sinking into the abyss. Hope I will do exceedingly well for History to at least pull SOMETHING up. Ugh. Well I need to relax now and what better way than to write?
Chapter 19 : Safe From Harm
"Now, you have a good rest, and someone will let you know when Lothíriel is awake," Isindil said firmly. It was not his place, actually, to tell the King what to do in his own country, but neither of Isindil nor Éomer noticed, nor would they have cared even if they did. There was no sense in nitpicking that way when what Isindil said made sense. "Don't you worry about Éothain either. He will probably be receiving the same treatment when he gets back."
"Bundled off to bed?" Éomer asked groggily. He was tired, he had to admit.
"Exactly. You just get your rest. Everything is fine now." Isindil gave him a little bow, and shut the door, leaving Éomer alone in his room.
With a sigh, Éomer pulled off his boots and stretched out on his bed. He would get rest, but he doubted that he could get any sleep until he saw Lothíriel talking and laughing like her old self. Ah, it's good to feel the soft pillows, though, he thought to himself with a yawn.
Éothain took his time, not wanting to put too much of a strain on Elenion, or exhaust his horse more than necessary. He walked between the two horses. It was dark now, and soon he supposed that he would stop and rest. There was no use walking through the night. There was no hurry here. The princess was probably already safe in Edoras, with all the care that she needed.
Éothain bit his lip. He hoped that the princess would be all right. Not just for her father's sake, but for his king as well. Éothain had served with Éomer since they were both fifteen, and girls had all but thrown themselves at his handsome master throughout those years, but other than occasionally asking one or two of them to dance with him at festivals, Éomer had basically ignored them. Now, though, it was plain for all to see that Lothíriel was everything to him. And Lothíriel was the only one who could make Éomer truly laugh. The first time he had seen them together, Éothain had been shocked by the way Éomer smiled and laughed when he was around her. He had never seen his king laugh that way before, not in all those years. He had never seen his king revelling in that purest form of happiness.
He sighed, thinking back on the conversation he had had with Freda one day before Lothíriel had run away.
She entered the house after a walk with the king, and was surprised to find him there. "Aren't you on duty?" she asked.
"I'm having a break now, I just had a training session with some of the new recruits," he replied. "You were with the king again, I see."
A dreamy look entered Freda's eyes. "Yes, yes I was. Isn't he a lovely person?"
Éothain nodded. "He is." Then he frowned. "Be careful, sister."
Freda laughed. "What for? Are you worried that he'll dishonour me?"
"No, I'm not afraid of that. He would never do such a thing." He paused. "He could break your heart. He wouldn't mean to, but he could. Be careful, sister. Falling in love with the king is no small matter."
Freda took a chair opposite him. "Why do you say that?"
"Because I see you together everyday, and I see the look on your face. You're in love with him, taken with his charms and friendliness. But he isn't in love with you."
"How do you know that? You aren't much of an expert on love." Freda kept her tone cheerful and light, but Éothain saw the shadow that darkened her face for a fleeting moment.
"I know my king, Freda. I know him better than any other soldier in the ranks. We've been fighting side by side since we were fifteen. And what I see in his face when he's with you is what I see in his face when he's with any of his friends. That's why I'm asking you to be careful. I don't want to see you hurt."
Freda looked down at her hands. "I know what you mean, brother," she said finally. "But I have to try. Otherwise I'd never find peace of mind. I have to try."
And try she had, his lovely sister. And rejected, just as he had warned her. She had cried herself to sleep that night, and he had not known what to do for her. There was nothing to be done, in fact. It had been expected, and she had insisted on trying to win Éomer's love. Éothain shook his head as he pulled on the reins, stopping both horses, and prepared to spend the night. He had told her not to, that Éomer's love was not for her to win, because it had already belonged to someone else, even though he might not have realised it himself.
"Well, at least now he does," Éothain muttered to himself, pulling a blanket out of the bag.
Lothíriel's eyes fluttered open, and she expected herself to be huddled in the corner of the deserted, dirty, cold room, but instead she felt soft blankets over her, a soft bed below her, and found herself looking round at her room in Edoras. She sighed in relief. It was just a bad dream, just a bad dream. Then she winced and raised her arms. Around her wrists were angry red welts, from where the rope had hurt her. So it was real… but why am I here now? She tried to sit up, but her head spun, and she collapsed back in the bed with a moan. "Hello?" she said hoarsely.
As if on cue, the door opened, and an elderly woman entered. She smiled to see Lothíriel awake. "Welcome back, princess," she said. "It's good that you're awake. How are you feeling? I brought some herbs for you. I'm Caira." She put a hand to Lothíriel's forehead and gave a little grunt in satisfaction. "Good, your temperature's coming down."
"What…" Lothíriel swallowed, and tried to speak again. "What happened?"
Caira shook her head. "I can't tell you, princess, I'm not exactly all that sure myself. But you've had a very unpleasant encounter, that's for certain. I'll let someone else who's better suited tell you. You just stay in bed, and I'll try and find your guardian, all right?" She gave Lothíriel a motherly smile, set the bowl on a stool by the bed, and left the room.
Lothíriel closed her eyes, having no intention of leaving the bed. In fact, she wasn't certain if she could. Her head didn't spin so much anymore, but she doubted that she had enough strength of get out of bed and walk around. She wondered how much time had passed. It had to have been at least two days, for her to be taken back to Edoras. Who saved me? She recalled her dream about Éomer rescuing her, but didn't believe it. No, I don't think he would have ridden all the way out to find me. It must have been Isindil who got me back. Good, strong, dependable Isindil.
Her eyes flew open when the door slammed, and she saw Isindil standing before her. If it hadn't been humanly impossible, she would have sworn that steam was coming out of his ears. He stood before her with his hands on his hips. "How could you even think about running away? Didn't you have any consideration about how worried I would have been? How worried we all were? How could you be so rash? You're twenty, for goodness sake, can't you act your age? What if you weren't rescued? What do you expect me to tell your father then? How do you expect all those twelve guards to live with the fact that they hadn't managed to take care of their princess? How do you expect all the Rohirrim to feel, if the Princess of Dol Amroth disappeared in their country?"
Lothíriel just kept quiet as Isindil paced back and forth, storming. She had never seen him so angry before. He had always been calm and cool, no matter what had happened. But this time his face was red and he was yelling so loudly her ears rang. It wasn't like him at all, and she put a hand over her eyes, not wanting to look at him anymore. It broke her heart seeing him so worked up, and knowing that it was all her fault. It's someone else talking, she told herself. It's not Isindil. It's not.
"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, PRINCESS!" Isindil stopped his tirade and took a deep breath. Then he came to sit down by the bed and folded Lothíriel into a huge embrace. "You gave me the scare of my life," he said quietly, all his pent-up worry and anger vented. "Don't you ever do that again. What would your family do without you around?"
"I'm sorry," Lothíriel whispered. Tears stung her eyes, and she made no effort to hold them back. She felt like a little girl, childish, foolish, helpless. But for now, it was all right. She had spent so long keeping her guard up around Halen, showing him that she was strong, that he didn't frighten her. Now it was all right to tear those walls down. Isindil was here, and he was safe.
Isindil kissed her forehead, and smiled. Lothíriel was stunned to see tears in his eyes. "Thank goodness you're safe now. Everything will be all right." He picked up the steaming bowl of herbal soup. Eyeing her hands, he gave a little laugh and said, "I doubt you can hold this bowl steady yourself. Well, I suppose I shall have to feed you like a baby."
Lothíriel cracked a smile. "I suppose you do."