Meren sat on her bed, still shocked from what Lothíriel had told her.
After Lothíriel left, Meren had sat stock-still where she had been left, then quickly got up and hurried back to her room. Everything felt as if it had come crashing down on her all at once, and her head was spinning. She finally understood, and what she realised filled her with an unknown terror. She had fallen in love with the prince of Rohan!
It had been the very thing she had run away from. She had watched with what almost seemed like disgust as her sisters first fell in love, and then married, giving up all their dreams and fantasies of adventure for a quiet lives as quiet wives. And she had promised herself that she would never give herself up that easily, that she would fight to live the life she wanted to. Her mother had begun trying to match her with some of the "nice boys" in the village when she had managed to convince her father that working in Edoras would be for the best. After such a narrow escape, did she come to Edoras just to follow the same fate?
And it wasn't just any boy, it was the prince! Meren could hardly believe herself. She would never be able to become royalty. She just could not behave that way, just did not have what was required. How could Elfwine ever love her? She would never be all he needed, would never be all he wanted. Things would never turn out that way, no matter what Lothíriel had said.
A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought over what she would never have.
"Your mother was here just now," Éothain said as he closed the door to the armoury. "She asked me not to say anything. I suppose she didn't want to distract you."
"But Mother knows that she doesn't distract me."
"She wasn't alone." Éothain gave Elfwine a significant look. "Your mother must like her."
Elfwine had a feeling that he knew who Éothain was speaking of, but he just wanted to be sure. "Who?"
"I'm sure you know who I'm talking about, Elfwine. Meren."
Meren. Just the name made his head go round in circles thinking about her. "Yes, my mother does like her." But why were they together?
"Not without reason, I believe. Freda says that Meren is a wonderful girl." Another look. "You take care of what you have, all right?"
Elfwine shook his head. "No… she likes Elboron."
"You're sure?"
"Yes," Elfwine said, getting that sinking feeling in his heart again. "They fit together really well, you should see them."
"Oh." Éothain said nothing more, and Elfwine did not feel like volunteering any more information. He didn't like talking about it.
My dearest father,
Yesterday I received a letter from Erchirion and Amrothos, with a most amusing account of Galador. I suppose he has inherited the traits that both you and Elphir have missed out on. Either that, or my two brothers have had too great a part in his upbringing. Anyway, it was a pleasure to receive news from Dol Amroth, and I wish to be there again one day, just to set eyes on my beloved birthplace.
Things are going well in Rohan. Éomer went to the Westfold yesterday to look into some matters in some of the villages. I do not expect it to be a very long journey, and perhaps he would be back in a month. There is no reason for him to linger too long in the villages, causing the villagers to be more anxious over how to treat their king than over their crops, and he would be eager to see Elfwine and I again.
Speaking of Elfwine, though… I think your first grandson is discovering something, or rather, someone, in his life that is making things seem very, very different. The only trouble is that he neither knows what to do with it nor what to do with himself. He's in a very muddled state indeed, and I think I have no right to spell everything out for him, especially since I am not completely certain of matters. Are all men so confused whenever it comes to what they feel?
I can barely believe that I am already worrying about his matters. It doesn't seem so very long ago when I was trying to find my own way, and needed help from both you and Isindil to figure out what was going on. Now, I'm trying to help my son. It seems all so surreal, and sometimes it feels like I would suddenly wake up to find myself in bed in Dol Amroth, twenty again, twenty and clueless. Have you ever felt that way, Father?
I shall have to stop writing now. With Éomer in the Westfold I am in charge in Edoras. Elfwine helps in every way he can, and I have to say (and not without pride) that he is remarkably capable for a boy his age. I was certainly not as useful when I was nineteen, was I?
Love,
Lothíriel
The door opened as Lothíriel folded the letter. "Mother?" Elfwine came up and sat down opposite her, looking rather awkward. Lothíriel supposed he was going to say something about Meren, so she said nothing and just looked up at him, letting him speak. Elfwine shifted in his seat. "Éothain said you were watching me practice today. With Meren, I think."
"Yes, I was there with Meren. I think you did very well today, and Meren agreed with me." Lothíriel met her son's eyes calmly, silently daring him to surrender to his heart.
"She was just trying to be polite," Elfwine muttered.
"No, I don't believe she was. She really meant it," Lothíriel said firmly. She cleared her throat. "She believes in you, you know. You're very special to her."
Elfwine's gaze fell to his lap. "She just stays around with me because Elboron isn't around to occupy her," he mumbled desolately.
Lothíriel almost started when she heard that. "Why would you think that?" Could I have been wrong?
"I don't want to…" Elfwine began to say.
"You can tell me, Elfwine," Lothíriel said gently. "You used to tell me everything, remember? Have I ever let you down?"
"No, Mother," Elfwine said truthfully. He pulled the chair nearer to the desk. "Elboron and Meren get along so well together. When Elboron was here, they were always laughing together, having fun together. I was just sitting off to one side quietly, all by myself. I'm not much fun to be with. The two of them have so much fun together, and sometimes Meren still mentions Elboron." He sighed. "They're a good match."
"Do you love her, Elfwine?"
Elfwine jerked his head up. "Mother?"
"Think, Elfwine, think hard. Do you love her?"
Elfwine bit his lip. Lothíriel could almost see images of Meren running through his head. Finally he sighed and nodded. "Yes."
Lothíriel stood up. "Well, then, you should at least try," she said. She took the chair next to Elfwine's and took his hands. "My mother told me a long time ago that when love comes along, you must seize it and hold on to it, because it'll be the best thing that will ever happen to you. You must hold on to it even if it hurts, or you'll regret it forever." Tears stung her eyes as she recalled her mother's face, earnest and sincere. She could hardly believe that she was passing on these words now. "I didn't take her words very seriously then. But when I met your father, I knew she was right. Do you remember the story Freda used to tell you, about my kidnapping?" Elfwine nodded dumbly, and Lothíriel continued, "But no one ever told you why I ran away in the first place and got kidnapped?" Elfwine shook his head, just watching his mother. Slowly, Lothíriel told him everything, reliving those days of hurt, tears and confusion.
"Things aren't always what they seem, Elfwine. People don't fall in love with each other just because they get along with each other and have plenty in common. And even if you are right, and Meren has given her heart to Elboron, would you like to live the rest of your life wondering what things would have been like if only you had tried? You will never know how things stand until you take a risk, Elfwine. You might get hurt, but it is worth it. Trust me." Lothíriel smiled and kissed her son's forehead. "Anyway, if you fall and get hurt, I'll be right here to pick you up and make things better. Just like I've always done."