Chapter Five
It was the next day and the Rohan entourage, Merry inclusive, was preparing to leave for their golden city. Inside the palace, Éomer and Éowyn and were enjoying their temporary last meal with their friends. As it would be, the two Rohirrim siblings would head on to Riddermark firstly and begin the appropriate preparations for the burial and then the welcoming of their friends. Imrahil had voiced his desire to return to Dol Amroth beforehand as he wanted to see how his city fared and Aragorn also wanted to settle some internal affairs with his steward before heading off to Rohan. So it had been agreed that the Gondor and Dol Amroth team would begin their trip to Rohan middle that week.
"And three weeks later, we shall welcome you and your men to our city once again, only this time dear Lady Éowyn will not be following you back," said Aragorn as the small group sat at the breakfast table. Éowyn blushed a little and looked down at her hands. Éomer grinned and placed an arm around his sister.
"I will miss her, but I do not think I will mind the peace and quiet that will come with her absence," he said and then laughed when Éowyn gave him a narrow look.
"That is what you think, brother, but I still have three weeks before my wedding and I will dedicate that time to finding you a wife, who I will guarantee be anything but quiet," she retorted back. Éomer just gave her a withering look in return.
"Lady Éowyn, I must commend you on your courage. I could never even begin to imagine living anywhere but by the sea," said Amrothos from the end of the table. Éowyn grew quiet for a while.
"I can not truthfully say I will not miss Rohan, your highness, but sometimes the sacrifice is worth the pain, especially when at the end of the tunnel, there a light waiting," she said and gave Faramir a shy smile. Faramir, who was seated opposite her smiled back his eyes radiating with what his lips did not say. But Éowyn was not finished. Turning back to Amrothos, she recited the words that the two of them had secretly scripted early that morning.
"However, my greatest fear right now is that I will appear a fool before the ladies of Gondor court and even worse the people of Ithilien due to my lack of knowledge concerning Gondor etiquette," she said. Éomer gave a snort.
"You have no regards of the Rohan etiquette, and it has never bothered you before," he said. Éowyn rolled her eyes.
"Aye, but that was when I was not engaged to be wed. Now it is my duty to uphold the good name of my husband, and I am afraid that I will bring shame to him instead," she said. Faramir leaned forward; his hand outstretched upwards in which she automatically placed hers in.
"You could never bring shame to me, my love, only unbridled amount of happiness," he said softly before planting a kiss at the back of her palm. Next to him, Lothíriel sighed.
"That is so romantic," she said, but then lowered her head when she saw Elphir frown at her. Éowyn pulled away, and smiled at the Faramir.
"Thank you my lord, but I still wish there was someone I knew who could help instruct me on the proper ways, for I can not think of anyone in Rohan," she said dejectedly. There was silence and Éowyn and Amrothos held their breaths in anticipation. Their relief came in the form of Imrahil's second son.
"Riel is of royal blood, and she and Lady Éowyn have become good friends. Perhaps she could stay with you and teach you the ropes, my lady. What do you say father?" said Erchirion with a simple naivety, for he was not enlightened on the wily scheme of his youngest brother and soon to be cousin by marriage. Éowyn turned and looked expectantly at Imrahil. Imrahil who was caught of guard by his son's words just stared at her, mouth open a little.
"That sounds like a plausible solution, Imrahil. Lothíriel would be a great help to Éowyn," said Aragorn. All eyes were fixed onto the Prince. After a minute of opening and closing his mouth, he turned to his daughter, seated next to him.
"Swan, what you say?" he asked. Lothíriel bit her bottom lip. Stay in Rohan for three weeks? Under the same roof as Éomer? She didn't think seeing him every day for the next three weeks would do much to help her get over her little infatuation for the Rohan King. But one look at Éowyn's pleading face, her inhibitions crumbled and she nodded.
"I do not mind. It is a great opportunity to see more of Middle earth and any assistance I could be to Lady Éowyn would be wonderful," she replied with a smile, although her insides were anything but calm.
"Then I shall have to agree as well," said Imrahil, discreetly holding up a finger, stopping Elphir from saying anything. And he knew Elphir's was about to object to the idea. He will deal with his eldest son later.
"It is settled, Lothíriel shall remain in Rohan with Éowyn until they return to Gondor for hers and Faramir's wedding," said Aragorn. But then Arwen spoke up.
"Should we not ask at first what the King of Rohan has to say?" she said softly. Éomer, who had maintained a placid face throughout the whole thing, although his insides did not match, just shrugged his shoulder before smiling at the princess.
"It will be an honor for us to host Princess Lothíriel. Her beauty will indeed brighten up the hills of the Mark," he said and Lothíriel turned a little pink at his words.
"Thank you, your majesty," she responded and returned his smile. The topic then deviated off to other matters and from the other end of the table; Amrothos gave Éowyn a victorious wink.
An hour later, Éomer, Éowyn, Merry and the Rohirrim soldiers were beginning to mount their steeds. However, just before he mounted, Lothíriel had somehow managed to corner Éomer to herself at the base of the palace steps without anybody paying close attention to them.
"Your majesty, I wish to thank you again for allowing me to stay in Rohan," she said softly. Éomer bent a little lower to her.
"Really, Lothíriel, all this formal title is really insulting. I thought we had agreed to be friends," he whispered, his brow in a frown but his eyes twinkling with mirth. Lothíriel responded with a grin.
"Very well then, Éomer it is. No more insulting titles," she said.
"That's much better. To be truthful, Lothíriel, I should be thanking you. I feel my advisers and myself would be at a lost at choosing what trimmings would suit Éowyn best," he said wryly. Lothíriel laughed delicately at the image of Éomer surrounded in lace and trimmings.
"Yes, I can see how that would be more taxing than fending of swarms of orcs," she answered. Éomer nodded.
"Aye, I agree as well. But I must warn you, princess; Rohan is very different form Dol Amroth and the White city for that matter. It is green grass as far as the eye can see," he warned her. Lothíriel bit her lip. Yes, the thought had crossed her mind. Three weeks away from her beloved sea.
"But lady Éowyn needs me, and if that means being away from my city then I shall endure it with a brave front," she said with determination. Éomer looked at her for a while.
"I do not doubt it. You have a strong spirit, princess," he said softly with frank admiration as he stared deep into her eyes until she broke the spell by lowering her lashes. Éomer straightened and cleared his throat.
"Well, I suppose I should join my men, as there will be some who are most anxious to leave for home," he said. She nodded.
"Of course, who wouldn't be eager to return to the arms of a loved one?" she replied.
"One day, my lord you too will share their feelings," she continued with a sly smile and Éomer grimaced.
"Lothíriel, please, I will receive more than enough hints from my sister and my advisers. I would hope that you would be on my side for this matter," he said. She laughed at his words and shook her head.
"I am sorry, my lord but you are on your own, for I will undoubtedly assist lady Éowyn in finding you a wife," she said and her laughter grew louder as he growled in response. Lothíriel was a little surprised herself at how easy it came to tease Éomer about finding a wife. Maybe spending three weeks in Rohan wouldn't be as hard as she had thought. All of a sudden she was looking forward to seeing his home.
"I am already beginning to regret extending my invitation to you. There wouldn't be any chance of taking it back would there?" he asked warily at Lothíriel's smiling face.
"Nay, none what so ever," she replied. Raising his hands in defeat, Éomer sighed.
"Then it would seem my work is cut out for me," he said in mock despair. Lothíriel gave him a soft smack on the arm.
"Really Éomer, there are fates worse than being married, you know," she said sternly. Éomer looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"This coming from someone who is not married or even betrothed, and does not appear to be interested in either?" he asked. Lothíriel gave him a defensive look.
"Just because I have yet to find someone suitable now, does not mean I will not eventually find him. Unlike you, my lord, I do not run away from the prospect of marriage," she answered back.
"But how will you know you've found him?" he asked. Lothíriel went silent for a while.
"I just will I suppose, I'm not really sure," she replied. Éomer looked at her triumphantly.
"You have just contradicted yourself, princess. How can you marry the right man, if you do not know if he is the right man? Just as how can I marry if I do not know if she is the right woman," he replied. Lothíriel was not to be beaten in their friendly argument.
"Ah, but my lord, I am not king to a nation now am I? Whether I marry or not is of no consequences to anyone," she replied back. Éomer just looked at her, no longer smiling but serious.
"I would like to know who was the lucky man to marry the most beautiful maiden in middle earth, especially when I would wish it were me," he said quietly. Lothíriel looked at him her eyes wide like saucers then dropped her gaze, her cheeks tinged with pink.
"Éomer, you shouldn't say such things," she said and the old feelings came back to her. Unknowingly, she placed a hand to her fluttering heart. However, Éomer was unable to respond as at that moment, Imrahil walked up to them.
"Daughter, you will see King Éomer again in a week's time. There is no need to delay his journey," said Imrahil as he came to stand between them. He wondered what had transpired between the two to give Lothíriel blushing cheeks and form regrets in Éomer's eyes.
"I was just thanking Éomer for his invitation to Rohan," she replied.
"And I was thanking Lothíriel for releasing me of the duties of picking trimmings for Éowyn's dress," he replied and the two exchanged a smile. Imrahil cocked an eyebrow.
"So we are on a first name basis now are we?" he asked amusedly and Lothíriel bit her lip as she looked at her father. She couldn't tell from his blank face whether he was angry or not. Éomer fidgeted a little before saying.
"That would be my doing Imrahil, for I have asked your daughter to be friends with me, of course with your approval," he added the last bit quickly. Imrahil shrugged.
"I do not mind of your friendship nor do I mind both of you talking but at this moment, I do not think I can say the same about your men or your horse for that matter," he replied. Éomer turned away from the two to look at the group congregating at the base of the steps. Horses were stamping impatiently and his men beside their steeds waiting for their leader, most of them with looks as impatient as their horses. As for Éomer's own steed, it was blowing wisp of air through his nostrils, and although it was too well trained and disciplined to do anything as undignified as stamping its foot, it still managed to convey its annoyance to its owner with several flicks of its great head.
"I see what you mean," replied Éomer and he turned to Lothíriel, but the princess, who had followed his turn of head earlier, was staring dumbfounded at Éomer's horse.
"Éomer that is the biggest horse I have ever seen. Why it must be one of the maeras," she breathed her eyes wide. Éomer's chest puffed out in pride.
"Aye, that is what he is, Firefoot is his name and sired by Shadowfax himself. He was given to me by my uncle when I first became Third Marshal," he answered. Imrahil rolled his eyes at the two. He truly believed his daughter was a fine match to Éomer when it came to being horse crazy.
"May I touch it?" she asked. Immediately Imrahil perked up.
"Riel, I don't think that would be wise. It is a battle horse and may not be to willing to be touched by strange hands," he said. Éomer nodded in agreement. Firefoot has never let any man touch him, not even the stable boy in Rohan. But Lothíriel just scoffed at their words and picked up her skirts. Before any of the men could stop her, she had descended the steps and was standing by the great beast. She looked up at it and it looked down at her. Its size was magnificent and it could easily trample her with just one hoof. Or it could bite large parts of her with those huge teeth of it. But it did neither as it stood still and Lothíriel knew that Firefoot wouldn't hurt her.
"You're just a softie aren't you," she whispered and tentatively raised a hand to its nose. So intent was she on the horse that she did not realize that all around her had stopped to focus on her and the horse. Even Éomer and Imrahil stood still, not wanting to cause any sudden movement that would be considered threatening to the giant horse. Slowly, Lothíriel lowered her hand onto the horse's nose and when it did not react, she continued to stroke its nose and move towards its strong neck.
"So beautiful," she whispered to the still horse and as if it understood her, it turned its head slightly and began nuzzling her. Lothíriel let out a laugh before stepping away from the horse, scooping its wet nose in both her palms.
"Princess, I believe there is more to you than your sweet smile and innocent eyes," said Éomer as he approached them. When he neared, Firefoot removed himself from Lothíriel's hands and rested on Éomer's shoulder. He patted Firefoot's head but didn't take his eyes off Lothíriel. Then as if Éomer's words had broken a spell, the silence around them erupted into murmurs of astonishment from mostly Éomer's men and a few around them.
"Lothíriel, do you realize it could have easily killed you!" said Erchirion as he ran up to them. Lothíriel rolled her eyes.
"But it didn't so that says much doesn't it?" she said to her brother. Erchirion just shook his head and his gaze washed over the big horse. Why the top of the animal's back was nearly his height and it must weigh an entire vessel if not two. Elphir came next.
"Have you gone insane! What devilry possessed you to go up to the ugly brute!" cried Elphir. In protest of being called a brute and ugly, Firefoot stamped his hooves and Éomer's brow furrowed in anger. Lothíriel eyes narrowed at him.
"Eli, it isn't a brute, nor is it ugly!" she exclaimed at him. Éomer walked to Elphir, his eyes glinting.
"Do not ever use such disrespecting words about my horse, if it had wanted to harm your sister it would have done so before she even came within touching distance," he snapped at the Dol Amroth prince. Elphir fixed him with a hostile look and it was only Éomer's crown that prevented him from sinking his fist into the golden haired man. As it was, Imrahil stepped between the two.
"Come, Éomer. The sun has begun to grow hot, perhaps you should begin before it becomes even more unbearable," said the older man. Éomer glared at Elphir a little longer before turning to Imrahil. His angry face calmed down slightly and he nodded in agreement.
"Yes, the more ground covered before the mid day sun rises would do well for the horse. Eorlings, we ride!" he cried out and mounted his horse. His men followed and mounted their steed. Clicking his heel slightly, he steered Firefoot to where Aragorn and Arwen were standing, with Éowyn and Merry already mounted. All four had a nervous look as the Rohan King, whose eyes were still stormy rode up to them.
"Aragorn, we shall see you in a week's time," he said, his attempt of sounding light ruined by the brusqueness of his words. Aragorn nodded.
"Yes, friend, and I shall be sure to bring along with me the festivity to the golden city," he said with a smile. Éomer returned his smile. He turned to the queen.
"Thank you for the lovely welcome and it will be an honor to repay your hospitality within the walls of Meduseld," he said to Arwen, and her serene face calmed his insides a little more. She graced him with a beautiful smile.
"The honor, my lord, will be entirely ours," she replied. Éomer nodded and turned to the remaining fellowship.
"Till we meet again, my friends," he said to them and they returned with a smile and wave each. He then guided his horse to where Imrahil stood.
"We shall toast our victory once more in Riddermark, friend," he said and leaned down to shake hands with Imrahil. With only a fleeting glance towards Erchirion and Amrothos, ignoring Elphir, he nodded at them. Then he turned to Lothíriel. She sighed with relief for she thought after her brother's horrible words he would not want to talk to her again.
"Éomer…" she began with a smile, but he cut off her words, no smile gracing his lips.
"Rohan is known for its rocky terrain. It is best if you pack some sturdy clothes and shoes, princess," he said. At first she was shocked at his impersonal tone, but quickly caught herself. Bringing herself to her fullest height, she gave him her most regal nod.
"Thank you your majesty, I will remember your advice," she returned just as impersonal, doing well to hide the sting in her heart. He nodded and was off with Éowyn and Merry by his side and his men behind him, the banner of Riddermark flying high amongst them, the thundering hooves of the mighty steeds leaving behind great clouds of dirt. Once they had exited the seven walls, the small congregation of friends and family began to disperse back to the palace. Lothíriel turned to her brother, fully intending to give him a tongue lashing. But he spoke first.
"You would choose to defend a stranger over your brother," he said, his tone flat and quiet before he too turned towards the palace. Amrothos came up to his stunned sister and put an arm around her. Erchirion came to stand on her other side.
"He is scared, Riel, do not take his words to heart," said Amrothos. Lothíriel looked up at him.
"Of what?" she asked.
"That there's actually someone out there worthy of marrying you," said Erchirion. Both Amrothos and Lothíriel turned to look at him.
"Chirion, not you as well. It is obvious that the war has done much damaged to all three of your brains, and I will not listen to your nonsense. Good day," she said irritatedly and walked away from them.
"Did you think I was ignorant to your little scheme?" he asked. Amrothos lifted his shoulder and gave his brother a grin.
"Well, I surely did not think you would notice, as it seems that matters that do not concern a willing wench and a bed do not concern you either," he said ruefully. Erchirion laughed.
"Yes, I have been a little overboard with the ladies here haven't I? I was simply enjoying the pleasures of being alive. But seriously, I think king Éomer will be a good match for our little sister, and if you require any assistance in "convincing" our dear eldest brother, do not hesitate. I will use all means from my sword to my fist to convince him," he said and Amrothos laughed. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and the two began walking back to the palace.
"That is a comfort to know, for I do not look forward to battling our brother alone," he answered. But firstly, he'll have to convince Lothíriel and Éomer that they are right for each other, a task, no doubt, as difficult as convincing his eldest brother.
End of Chapter 5
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