Chapter Twelve
Éomer pulled his sword belt tightly about his waist, his rising anger causing it to tighten unnecessarily. Normally, Helfast should be there to assist him, but Éomer wanted to leave immediately and would rather his captain ready himself, so they could ride out as soon as possible. Slacking the belt a little he adjusted it properly before turning before the mirror in his room, making sure his armor was on properly. He was about to leave when a soft knock on his door caused him to stop and put down the spear he had grabbed hold. The gentleness in that knock alerted him it was neither his sister nor his captain.
"Princess?" Éomer was incredibly surprised to open the door and see the pale face princess standing before it, nervously chewing her lips.
"You shouldn't be here," he said brusquely, but moved away from the door. Gingerly, Lothíriel stepped in and closed the door partially. Lothíriel stood silently, still chewing her lips, all that she wanted to say, forgotten. Éomer had moved to the window, inspecting with satisfaction that his men were indeed getting ready to meet the enemy.
"Éomer," Lothíriel began. Éomer looked at her briefly then turned back to the window. That didn't do much to ease the nervousness she was feeling.
"Why must you go?" she asked abruptly finally deciding to get straight to the point.
"My country needs me, so I will ride," he answered. Lothíriel nodded.
"Of course, but so do your people. Shouldn't you be here protecting them," she said. Éomer gave her a sharp look.
"If you are worried about your safety, then don't be. I leave behind enough men," he answered. Lothíriel bristled at that. He made her sound like some fearful, sniveling good for nothing princess.
"That was not what I meant," she snapped.
"Then what do you mean, princess, and please hurry, my men are ready," he said, sighing as if he was tired. Nervousness came back to her.
"What I mean is… is that… you…" she stuttered. Éomer closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Princess, I have…" he began.
"I'm worried about you!" she blurted out before retreating back into herself, back to chewing her lips. By then she already had Éomer's attention. He looked at her with wonder.
"Me?" he asked and she nodded.
"Yes, you. I know you're a great warrior, but even the best are not spared from the risk of getting hurt," she said softly, and for some reason her vision began to blur. She quickly blinked them back. Silly Riel, this was a mistake. She didn't even notice that Éomer had left his place by the window until he stood right before her, his hands resting soothingly in her shoulders.
"If you truly are worried about me, then be at peace, because the Dunlendings are really just target practice," he said. But Lothíriel wasn't convinced. She remembered Éowyn's words about Dunlendings being cunning and underhanded. Who knew what plans people like that could come up with? Éomer easily read the anxiety on her face.
"Lothíriel, look at me. It will all be alright. I'll be back before you even know it, safe and sound," he said. This time she nodded. She supposed he was right. It wasn't as if this was his first battle and he did battle the War of the Rings, a much fiercer and deadlier battle than this.
"Promise me?" she said.
"What?"
"Promise me… that you'll come back safe and sound," she said again. Éomer grinned.
"I promise," he said and they grew quiet when in the distant a war horn was being blown.
"That's my cue, I must go. Come give me a smile, something for me to come home too," he said, releasing his hold of her to retrieve his spear. Lothíriel looked at him, knowing she shouldn't do what she was about to do.
"Nay, I will give you something else instead," she said and grabbed the front of his armor before pressing her lips against his. It was a quick kiss, innocent at most, but it was enough to make him feel lightheaded and a little unsteady on his feet.
"Lothíriel…"
"Say no more, it was a kiss for good luck and if… when, you return there shall be another one waiting," she said then in a flurry of skirts and hair, she was gone leaving Éomer alone in the room, dazed on his feet. He remained so for quite some time.
"Your majesty," a concerned voice prodded him out of his trance. He blinked and focused on Helfast who stood before him, worry etched on his face.
"Helfast," he said and quickly regained his composure.
"Are we ready to go?" he asked. Helfast nodded but hesitated to move.
"Your majesty, may I be so blunt?" he asked. Éomer nodded, wondering what was bothering his usually composed captain.
"I don't think we should go into a full battle. Perhaps I should lead an eored first to determine the situation," he said. Éomer raised an eyebrow.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, now clearly confused.
"I just think that it is a mistake to attack full force like this, leaving the city defenseless" he said. Éomer snorted.
"Nonsense. There are more than enough men left behind, and I am tired of having to constantly be aware of the Dunlendings. Let us completely damage their defenses that they can never rise against us again," he said. Helfast shook his head.
"But that's it. They are defenseless! To declare war on us in such an open manner would only guarantee their destruction. This just doesn't make sense," Helfast said. Éomer just grinned.
"Helfast, if you wish to stay behind…"
"I did not mean that. I will ride with you, and you know that!" growled Helfast. Éomer laughed a bit.
"At peace, brother. I know that very well, I was only teasing. Come, no more worries and let us ride," he said and without waiting for any response he pushed pass Helfast and out the door. Helfast shook his head at Éomer's insatiable need for battle before following his king.
Éomer and Helfast almost ran to the main entrance of Meduseld where the men stood waiting, themselves and their horses geared for war. And among the determined men was a lady with equal determination, her armor smaller than the men, but her sword just as deadly. And beside her was an irate princess.
"Éowyn, this is not the behavior of a soon to be Ithilien princess," Lothíriel grumbled, her concern for Éomer and now Éowyn causing her tone to be harsh. Éowyn just rolled her eyes at Lothíriel's disgruntled mother hen attitude.
"It's because this isn't the proper princess decorum am I doing it. Once Faramir and I are married, I may never even see the back of a horse again," she said lightly checking her stirrups as Éomer and Helfast stood talking with their own peeved friend, for Feälef felt very sore at being told to stay behind.
"You will look after yourself right?" she asked, no longer bothering to hide her worry. Éowyn looked at her. She was afraid to make any promises for she knew, as any other warrior, how fickle fate can be.
"Do not worry, I will not be cheated of a wedding night," she said and winked at her. Lothíriel laughed and a little of her apprehension ebbed away. Just then Helena joined them after spending the last ten minutes in her father's embrace. Though she had seen this a hundred times, she was never readily prepared to accept her father and friends riding in to battle. Perhaps it was due to the equal hundreds of time she had to see the very same faces come back cold in death.
"Ai, Helena, what's with the pale face?" Éowyn greeted her. Helena smiled, trying hard to hide her worry but her trembling figure gave her away.
"I wish this weren't happening that's all. I am glad that you will soon be a stuffy princess so it is one person less I have to worry about," said Helena, and then grinned sheepishly when Lothíriel gave her a look.
"I meant no offense, your highness,"
"None taken. In fact I agree with you," replied Lothíriel. She too wished things were different. She quickly snuck a glance at Éomer, who was laughing with one of his men. No doubt the king did not share her fear. They stood in silence for a while longer until Éomer finally cried out it was time to ride. Helena and Lothíriel stepped back safely onto the steps of Meduseld and helplessly watched the men and Éowyn mount. From her side, Lothíriel heard Helena choke back a sob and gently reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Helena.
"It will be alright, Éomer claims these Dunlendings to be naught more than target practice," she said consolingly. Helena let out a sound between a laugh and a sob and nodded.
"I know, my father said the same thing, but I have a bad feeling that I am too afraid to tell anyone. There is a dread clutching my heart and though I have seen it many times, today I am reluctant to see any of them ride out," she said. Lothíriel said nothing but stared at the other lady. Lothíriel knew what she meant. Sometimes she too had ominous feelings to have them confirmed when news of another tragedy has befallen Gondor.
"You should…"
"No, to speak such thoughts would dishonor my father. They are warriors, your highness, Rohirrims laugh in the face of death," she said and smiled a little at this. Their conversation was brought to an end when Éomer rode up to them.
"We leave now, princess, Lady Helena I trust you will take care of our guest?" he said amiably. Helena nodded.
"Of course your majesty," she answered and curtseyed a little. Éomer nodded and turned back to Lothíriel, who still looked a little pale.
"Do not look so whitish, princess, think instead of your promise to me on my safe return, for I will surely be thinking of it," he said and winked at her. Lothíriel went a little red, ignoring Helena's curious look. Éomer grinned and then in an eruption of dust and hooves, they were gone. The city stood in silence, all watching the gates slowly being closed as the last Rohirrim rode out, before returning to their daily routines albeit more subdued than normal. A cloud of uncertainty was hovering above them, blocking out the happy sun.
"My ladies, shall we return to the palace?" Feälef's downcast voice brought the two out of their reverie. Lothíriel nodded and walked away first, Helena placing a comforting hand on Feälef before following after Lothíriel.
The night passed silently, though no one was really asleep, the normal night noise of the city's tavern had hushed and the local drunkards were unusually sober, even they understanding that the time for merriment had momentarily ceased.
Morning came a lot faster than anyone had expected. Unlike the previous days, Edoras was slow to wake up and even slower to resume its day by day habit, the absence of the Riders more prominent than the day before. Lothíriel too was in no mood to wrestle with anymore fabric and trimmings and had begun to feel the closure of the four walls. Adorning her "Leonine" costume, she went into the city, and though she was no longer anonymous, no one disturbed her more than a polite good morning and this made Lothíriel sigh in regret as she despised the hollow look the people of the city wore. It reminded her too much of her own people during the dark days.
"Hail, Lady of the Horse, and how do you fare this morn?" a sad voice greeted her from behind and Lothíriel turned, glad to see her old friend.
"Elanora, greetings dear friend, but you look awful," she said and went up to hug the other lady. Elanora just smiled weakly at that. She knew she was not looking her best but she had not the heart to make herself more presentable when her brother was god knows where. As if reading her mind Lothíriel linked an arm around Elanora's free arm.
"Where are you headed too? I shall follow you," she said motioning to the basket of flowers that Elanora held under one arm, hoping her presence would at least lift the heavy feeling in her friend's heart. Elanora smiled her thanks and quietly the two made their way to the market where Elanora supplied a seller with fresh flowers to be made into aromatherapy sacs.
"Do you think they are well?" she asked after a while of silence. Lothíriel, a little surprised at the sudden question, smiled.
"I know they are well, King Éomer will not allow harm to come to them, and before long your brother will return," she said.
"I hope your words are right, princess, for though he annoys me with his presence at occasion, I would welcome that annoyance than this deadly gloom," she said and her voice shook. Lothíriel quickly wrapped her arms around Elanora.
"Do not grieve, he will be well and he will return, his only mark probably a swollen ego from his victory," she said and Elanora couldn't help but laugh. It made her feel better.
"Thank you princess for doing this, for helping me get through this," she said.
"We are friends, no matter what our station in life is, and I know should the roles be reversed, I could depend on you," she said. Elanora nodded.
"Always, Princess, always," she replied.
Somewhere away from the city, Éomer and his men were lingering around as Helfast had finally convinced Éomer of his ill-omened feeling and Éomer had agreed to send several scouts to the reported Dunlendings whereabouts. He paced the barren ground restlessly, still not understanding why he was here when he should be out there where the scouts were, putting a huge and permanent dent on the Dunlendings.
"Éomer, relax and sit!" barked his sister, her mood foul after having to spend a night on rocks and coarse sands. Éomer glared at her, using the opportunity to vent his frustration on her.
"How can I relax when I know my sister, who I may add is getting married, is about to jump head first into battle? Now I must watch mine and your back," he growled back. Éowyn rolled her eyes, having had to hear the same lecture before they left Edoras and during the trip to here, wherever here was.
"Brother, do not start. I am here, deal with it, and I can look after my own back thank you," she snapped back.
"And what am I suppose to tell Faramir when I deliver his bride who is missing an ear, or a piece of her nose, or possibly a few fingers?" he continued having not hear a word she said.
"He will thank you and still marry me," she replied huffily. Éomer snorted.
"He has hair like a girl and blind as a bat, you chose well," he grunted, feeling a small bit of satisfaction when Éowyn colored angrily. She was about to tell him about his choice in spouse, or lack of it, when a thunder of hooves distracted them. Turning to the sound, Éomer saw it was his scouts racing back and their stricken faces did not tell of good news. He ran out and met them halfway. The nearest man jumped of his horse and landed at Éomer's feet.
"Your majesty! It's a trap! They have dressed their women and children as warriors and set up camps but there is not a single man in sight, neither is there any weapons" he cried. Éomer was stunned at the news. All around him no one spoke, unable to comprehend what was happening. Then it dawned on him. They had been duped. The Dunlendings had tricked them. That means…
"Eorlings, to your horse, we must return to Edoras immediately!" he yelled suddenly and swiftly mounted Firefoot. Not waiting for the others, Éomer set Firefoot into a gallop. He had to get back to the city…
When asked about it several years after, many couldn't say how it happened, only that it did. Lothíriel and Elanora were walking through the city streets when the first attack came. A thatched house at the south end of the city walls suddenly burst into flames. At first no one reacted, all stared at the sight in wonder, the bright red and orange flames growing stronger as it licked the house to the ground. Only when a second fire tipped arrow flew into the city onto another house, combusting into flames did the situation sink in and instantly there were screaming and running, as the city went into panic. More fire tipped arrows, more houses bursting into flames and the more the people panicked. Lothíriel and Elanora were pushed left and right in the panic, each clutching desperately to each other, so they would not be lost in the sea of scared people. Several people fell and vanished in the stampede.
"We are under attack!" Elanora screamed. Lothíriel could only look around her, in complete shock. How was this happening? But she didn't have time to ponder when from the south end, where it had all begun; several figures in black began to climb over the high walls. Many were felled quickly by the soldiers who had taken up arms against the intruders, but there were too many of them and too little of the soldiers. They had begun to climb over the other four walls, letting out ugly sounds as they released more fire tipped arrows into the people and it didn't take long for Lothíriel to realize that they were trapped. They had no where to run, to open the gates would only mean suicide as more of the enemies would pass into.
They had to get back to the palace, Lothíriel thought. Tightening her hold on Elanora, she battled their way pass the screaming people back to the palace. When they got there, Feälef was outside, his sword unsheathed, standing in a line along with others of the warriors. He saw Lothíriel and ran to grab her to safety.
"Princess get inside the palace," he yelled. But Lothíriel shook her head.
"No, we must get the people out of the city! Or else we all will die anyway," she yelled back. Helena had then joined them, she too equipped with a sword.
"But where will we go? There is no where else, we are completely surrounded," she answered. Lothíriel's head spun at that. Helena was right, where would they go? She looked back down at the city, watching the soldiers battle the enemy, forming a boundary between the enemy and the people. Their wall was beginning to break as more men were injured. Think Riel, think!
Sweet Valar! The catacombs! The caves, that's the only place that will offer protection, at least until help arrives, for she had a feeling Éomer would find out that they had been tricked. A quick glance told her that the action was mostly on the front ends rather than the back parts of the city. That meant the road to the cave was still open. Another look confirmed this.
"Helena, Elanora listen to me. This is very important. I want you and Elanora to get the people to the back alley of the city. Do you see that road there? Good, get them to run there, I will meet them there, hurry!" she said, her serious tone leaving no room for arguments. Hiding behind the soldiers, Helena and Elanora made their way into the thick crowd, trying to persuade them to follow their lead. Lothíriel then turned to Feälef to ask him to provide cover. But he proved faster than her. Already some men had left the castle steps.
"It is done; the men will cover them as they make their way to the back of the city. But pray tell what is there?" Feälef asked. Lothíriel, impressed by his quick thinking just shook her head.
"Come with me," she said urgently, motioning for him to bring some men with him. Stealthily they slipped pass the enemies and taking the same route she had taken the other day she took them down the jagged hills to the entrance of the cave. The noise of battle had become lesser indicating that danger was still far away at this side of the city.
"Quick, help me open the door," she said and though they were shocked to see the undiscovered area and the presence of a cave no less, neither lost any time doing as she said. By the time the first petrified group came around the corner, the door was big enough to admit them. Trembling they ran into the cave. Lothíriel ran a little more upwards and as well as she could, beckoned them to advance quickly and silently. Soon Helena joined her, with more people behind her, with their pale face and battered bodies, some holding tightly to their children and before long Elanora came into view with the rear end of the people.
"Is there anybody else there?" Lothíriel asked.
"The soldiers, they are holding up the front, but I do not know how long more they will last," Elanora said her voice breaking in the intense fear she was feeling.
"Get in ladies, I must go and assist the men," suddenly Feälef came into view.
"Don't, it is too dangerous," cried Elanora suddenly, her eyes wide with more fear.
"I must, now get in!" he barked and was soon running up the hills, some other soldiers following, but a few remaining. Lothíriel nodded and after pulling Elanora a few times, the three walked into the cave, before two soldiers went to close it. A single torch was burning, giving light to the dark caves but the warmth did nothing to ease the cold fear running through the people as they sat huddled against each other, a child on each knee, some heads bent in prayers.
Éomer's heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted him. Even from a distance, he could see clouds of smoke spiraling upwards from around and inside the city walls and the disturbing sound of people fighting mingled with the sounds of screaming. Digging his hooves harder into Firefoot's side, he urged his steed to move faster. From the corner of his eyes he saw Éowyn and Helfast's come up alongside him, they too urging their horses. No doubt the riders were only a second behind him.
It was a cry of fear from the enemies and relief from the Eorlings when Éomer and his men were spotted. Immediately the gates began to open, and the Dunlendings that had been swarming around the fortress began to retreat with haste, many managing to escape into the hills and mountains, but an equal many were slain by the angry Rohirrims.
Releasing a mighty war shout Éomer galloped into the city his sword out and already swinging, its blade making clean slices through the enemy. The return of the king ignited the deflating spirit of the weary soldiers and it wasn't long before the last man was taken down and the battle won. But there was no cheerful cry for the victors as they looked at the damage around them. Smoking houses and roads, injured people being assisted into makeshift healing houses, a steady stream of blood flowing through the city and puzzlement; for where were the town's people?
"Éomer, where is everyone?" Éowyn asked, running up to her brother who was looking for injured people and handing them to soldiers to be tended too. He looked up from his search, the thought just crossing his mind. He had been so involved in the enemy, then the wounded, he hadn't realized the absence of any inhabitants.
"I don't know, I…" he didn't finish for at that moment another approached them. It was Feälef, and he was bleeding from his arm downwards.
"Your majesty," he panted heavily, the injury taking up a lot of his energy. Éomer rushed forward and slipped a hand under his advisor to support him.
"Thank you, I may seem to be a little out of practice," he said, smiling a little before cringing in pain.
"No worries, Helfast will be more than glad to remedy that. But tell me, Feälef, where are everyone?" he asked. Feälef was silent for a while, waiting for the pain to subdue the spoke again.
"In the caves, my lord," he answered.
"What caves?" a fourth voice demanded, Helfast having just joined to hear the last bit of Feälef's words. His face was etched with worry for he couldn't seem to find Helena anywhere.
"There are caves under the palace, the people are there," he said. Éomer, Helfast and Éowyn exchanged looks. What caves?
"Come I will take you there," he said and moved to stand upright but Éomer wouldn't let him.
"I think not, Feälef, Helfast take him to the healers," said Éomer and Helfast nodded, moving in to take over Éomer's position, though he would have rather gone to the caves his friend had mentioned.
"Follow the back road, and down the path, find the entrance hidden in the wall," Feälef said as Helfast led him away to the healing house. Éowyn and Éomer gave each other another look then followed the instructions Feälef had given them.
Lothíriel paced the damp floorings of the cave, the sudden silence outside not at all to her liking. She had wanted to go out and see what was happening but was instead ordered to stay inside by the guards, their last line of defense against the enemy. Helena and Elanora were walking around offering comforting words to the survivors, and though Lothíriel tried to help as much as her little knowledge in the language could, it still posed as a barrier. So instead she waited at the entrance, hoping for some news soon.
"It is too quiet, I do not like this," she said, her voice echoing across the stone walls. Helena looked up at her.
"Don't even try thinking of leaving this cave, or I will pin down your skirts with my own sword," she said quickly. Lothíriel sighed, for that was exactly what she wanted to do.
"We are safe as long as we stay within, the enemy may not know of this place so your sudden appearance may alert them," added Elanora diplomatically.
"I suppose you are right," she said dejectedly.
"No, my lady, I know I am right," came the smug reply. Lothíriel was about to reply to that when the stone door suddenly began to open slowly, the sound of rock sliding over ground grating their ears. The cave stilled and the guards immediately brought up their swords, lining themselves between the people and the door, ready for whatever that was too happen. In a move too quickly to be stopped, Lothíriel picked up Helena's sword and took position too. She had never wielded a sword before, but she was sure she could do at least some damage before she was taken down.
They all held their breaths as the ray of light sliding in through the open doors grew wider and wider until it completely shone into the cave. Though they did not want to, the men and Lothíriel couldn't help but close their eyes at the sudden brightness.
"Lothíriel?" a familiar male voice called out.
"Éomer is that really you?" she cried out, opening her eyes, she waited for her vision to adjust. Once it did, she saw that she was indeed right as it was him standing at the entrance, a little dazed as he gazed into the cave, his sister beside him, she too wearing the same look. However, Lothíriel was too glad and relieved to see the two, that she dropped the sword and flung herself into his arms.
"I am so glad to see you!" she sobbed as she clung to him tightly, feeling his arms come around her hugging her back. By then several of the other Eorlings had also made their way to the cave and they too stood staring bewilderedly at the cave.
Lothíriel pulled back from his embrace, suddenly realizing what she had done. She turned to look at Éomer to see if she had embarrassed him as well but he only grinned, looking very pleased at her so she then glared at him.
"What took you so long?" she snapped and he laughed. But she did not wait for his reply as she walked back into the cave and joined Helena and Elanora, who were helping the people move out of the cave under the directions of Éowyn. Slowly, they made their way back to the heart of the city, to the large stretch of land that had been set up as a treatment center. There were many tears, some in joy to be reunited with a loved one and some in grief at the destruction of their homes. Healers moved about frantically trying to screen out the wounded from the not and the vital cases from the stable ones.
Elanora herself had just settled the last of the survivors before she was lifted off her feet and swung around.
"Elleon put me down!" she screamed as she hung on tightly. Her brother laughed and gently placed her on the ground before engulfing her in a bear hug.
"What am I to do with you, sister? I leave you for a while and you nearly get the city burnt down," he replied his tone teasing but it relayed the relief that she was alive and well.
Helena too was lost somewhere within her father's embrace; both had tears streaming down their cheeks. Lothíriel watched both exchange with tears in her eyes. What had nearly been a tragedy had ended in a happy note. And all thanks to Eorl's obsessive love for his horses. She walked around the site, offering any comforting words or gestures that were needed and helping as much as she could.
It was decided that camp would be set up and those who wished could spend the night camped outside. Night guards had been assigned and the city was on full alert.
The sun had begun to slowly descend into the horizons when finally each and every person had been tended too and taken care off. Two soldiers and one old man had perished in the battle and though there were tears for the fallen, there was also intense relief that it had not been more. The bodies of the dead Dunlendings were collected and thrown into a hole outside the city walls, then buried.
"May their restless soul find peace in the after life," Éomer had said softly as the last bucket of earth was thrown onto their grave, then he and his men headed back into the city, the big gates closing for the night.
"How do you ladies fare?" Éomer asked as he approached Éowyn, Helena, Lothíriel and Elanora, who were huddled in front of the fire, watching the last embers of the sun disappear.
"We are fine," Lothíriel answered, smiling at him as he sat between her and Éowyn.
"Speak for yourself, I feel like I have been run over by a stampeding Oliphant," grunted Éowyn.
"You look it too," retorted Helena, then quickly moving away from Éowyn's pinching fingers. Only Elanora was distracted, her gaze constantly falling to the tent where the injured lay.
"He is fine," Éowyn said gently to her. She looked back at Éowyn sharply then blushed a bright red.
"Yes, my brother has too much determination in him to be anything else," she replied quickly then quickly fixed her gaze at a point into nowhere. Now that had Lothíriel curious, for she knew Elleon was not injured and Elanora's shaky voice told those who listened that she had just lied.
"It has been an eventful day today, I will admit, but things have turned out for the best," said Lothíriel.
"No thanks to me, I nearly had the city in a pile of charred wood," said Éomer his voice thick with regret. He blamed himself fully for this event and it weighed heavily on his chest.
"Éomer, for the hundredth time, it was not your fault! You couldn't have known, mistakes happen," said Éowyn, reaching out and folding her arms around Éomer. She knew what lay in his heart and would do anything to ease it.
"No one blames you my lord, in fact we commend you for figuring it out as quickly as you did and returning in time to save us," said Helena and she meant every word. She had helped about and she had heard the talks. No one held Éomer at fault.
"Aye, I agree," said Lothíriel and gently she took Éomer's larger hands into hers and caressed it tenderly. They shared a smile and Éowyn beamed gleefully at Helena. A sudden commotion caught their attention and the five quickly got to their feet.
"Release me! I must thank her! She saved our lives!" a feminine voice wailed across the night. Helena and Elanora exchanged looks then turned to look at Lothíriel. The woman in question burst through the hands holding her back and her eyes fell upon their little group. Holding her hands up she released another moan into the sky, in thanks for the deliverance of the beautiful lady who had saved their town.
She ran up to them and dropped to her knees. Elanora reached down to help the crying lady to her feet but she shrugged off her efforts. Instead an elderly man squeezed through the crowd and bent down to comfort the sobbing woman.
"Your majesty, please forgive my wife, she is still in shock," he said in broken westernese, and though he was addressing his king, he really wanted to inform the visiting princess that people of Rohan weren't crazed, wailing lunatics. Éomer smiled and bent down as well.
"That is alright. It has been an ordeal, for everyone," he said and behind him, Helena nudged Lothíriel, giving her a huge grin. Lothíriel just ignored her and tried to quench her embarrassment. She hoped her deeds wouldn't be blown out of proportion and made to be more than it really was.
"Come, give your thanks and ease your heart and mind," Éowyn said gently and helped the woman to her feet. She wiped her eyes on the sleeves of her blouse and smiled in Lothíriel's direction.
"Thank you, thank you for saving our lives. I have a small boy and he will live to see his next day of birth, because you… because you…" she halted as a sob choked her voice. A crowd had formed around them, and Helena grinned again at Lothíriel and was once again ignored by the princess, who had her head slightly bent. Thank goodness the dark hid her red cheeks, for she could feel the intense heat radiating from it. The woman inhaled deeply and seemed to collect herself once again and continued this time looking Lothíriel straight in the eye.
"Your highness, when you return, I pray to you to sing the bravery of Lady Helena to your people so they may know of her selfless act," she said. The sudden cheering from the crowd drowned the strangled cry of Helena and the horrified gasp of Elanora. And only her many years of princess decorum and discipline allowed Lothíriel to rise to the occasion.
"Of course, all of Gondor shall sing her a song of praise," she replied a smile on her lips, belying the hollowness she felt inside. Of course, how could she have been so stupid? The previous morning conversation with Éowyn's lady in waiting came back to mind. They want a Rohan born to be queen… and Helena was a perfect choice. She barely registered when the woman smiled at her then bent to kiss Helena's hands. By then the shock had settled in and Helena burst into life.
"No, you are wrong… I," she began but was interrupted by Lothíriel.
"You are too modest," she said with a fake laugh then reached forward to hug Helena. But in her ears she whispered, "do not contradict me, your people have been hurt enough this night, do not upset them more, and that is an order!"
"Éomer, I hope you realize how fortunate you are to be in possession of such a lady," said Lothíriel turning to Éomer who was still a little stunned. He could have sworn it was Lothíriel that the woman was speaking off. How could he have so wrongly misjudged? He hastily recovered and smiled at Helena, whose face had turned a sick green, which was conveniently camouflaged by the dark night.
"I am now, and I thank you as well, Helena, I am in your debt," said Éomer. Helena tried to smile back but it came out forced and crooked.
"Thank you, your majesty," was all she could come up with as her mind was swirling with incomprehension of had just happened.
"Your debt? Éomer, I'm sure you can offer more than that," Lothíriel said, raising her eyebrows suggestively to him. Her hint was immediately backed up by the city people who began to applaud and somewhere in the back; someone was beginning to hail the new queen of Rohan. However, at that point Éowyn decided to step in. All this talk of queens was worrying her especially when she knew something was a miss, besides the fact that Helena looked like she about to croak frogs.
"I think it is time we all got some sleep for the day has been long and tiring," she said loudly. A nod of agreement floated through the crowd.
"Aye, tomorrow we shall begin to rebuild the city and your homes then at night a celebration shall be had in honor of our Lady Helena," continued Éomer. His words were greeted with much joy and slowly people began to disperse back to their tents or bedroll.
Elanora quietly slipped away, first to check on Elleon then she too would retire when a hand gripped her shoulder.
"Why didn't you help me tell them the truth? Why did you allow her to lie?" Helena hissed. Elanora shook her head.
"It is not my place to say anything and much less to disagree with the princess. I am sorry Lady Helena, but my lips are sealed till she thinks it's wise for the truth to be revealed," said Elanora. Helena glared at her for a while then sighed.
"So what happens now?" she said despairingly.
"Well, I would suggest you start designing your wedding dress, my lady. Good night," she said then left leaving Helena standing there her eyes wide like saucers. A wedding dress? Oh what had she just gotten herself into? A pair of thick arms engulfed her from behind and without turning she knew it was her father. Finally someone who can tell her what to do with this mess, and help her tell Éomer the truth. Rohan already had a queen candidate, and it wasn't her.
"Daughter, I have just heard the news, and I am so proud of you, your mother would have been so proud," her father whispered hugging her tighter. She turned quickly to set her father right, but when she looked into his eyes she couldn't do it. He was so proud. His eyes shone like stars and looked positively happy. Helena didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. Instead she folded her arms around him and hugged him back, in her mind she knew she would be punished by the gods for her cowardice. And no, her mother would not be proud at all.
The next morning, the city had regained its lost bliss, and though the destruction was more evident in the daylight, the despair had gone with the night and there was much singing as soldiers and peasants, noblemen and stable boys worked together to restore the city.
"You wouldn't have thought it was only yesterday these people were scared for their lives," said Lothíriel happily looking at the men working, their bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat and their golden hairs glinting off the sun's rays, as she and a few other ladies helped in setting up the noon meal. She refused to clutter her mind with any sad thoughts, not when everyone else was in high spirits. Well, nearly everyone. Elanora had chosen to assist elsewhere while Helena had chosen to glare continuously at her. As she was doing still. Lothíriel sighed and turned to face her. She had tried to ignore it but it was proving to become more difficult.
"Stop giving me the evil eye, it's no use for I won't change my mind," she said softly not wanting anyone else to hear.
"Well you should. You are lying to my king and indirectly involving me as well," Helena replied.
"I am not lying! Did you or did you not assist in helping the people yesterday during the attack?" she asked hotly. Reluctantly Helena nodded.
"So where is the lie?" Lothíriel asked again.
"The lie is in you allowing the people to believe that it was all my doings! You were the one who thought of getting the people into the caves; for Eorl's sake, you were the only one who knew of the caves, I was just following orders," she said, trying hard to keep her voice down.
"Ah, but that issue never arose, dear Lady Helena, only that lives were saved, which was thanks to you, as you lead them to safety and not about who discovered the caves," Lothíriel pointed out. Helena let an unfeminine growl the turned back to the preparations. Gone unnoticed was Éowyn who had silently watched the two from a far, though not hearing the words, but her suspicion that something was not right had become stronger. And since Helena would not say what was wrong and Lothíriel would not admit that anything was wrong, Éowyn would have to figure this out herself.
Shortly after, a loud horn blew across the city and slowly the men stopped whatever tasked they were doing and headed back to the open grass area where the tents and bedrolls had been replaced with tables bearing foods and drinks. Lothíriel was among the ladies who helped serve the hungry men and had tactfully positioned herself away from Helena, in an attempt to evade the Rohirrim lady's death glare.
"Princess, your father will have my head if he saw you performing such menial work," Éomer said as he walked up to her for his serving of hot soup. Lothíriel laughed at that but her cheeks flamed a little at seeing his naked torso. He was indeed as beautiful as she had imagined, but enough of that. Now wasn't the time for such thought.
"Nonsense! If the King of the Mark can remove his shirts and work alongside his people, then surely a visiting princess can at least serve the soup. Besides, he will probably thank you for putting some humility into his spoilt daughter," she replied with a laugh. Éomer shook his head at that.
"I have many spoilt ladies, princess and you're not one of them. You wouldn't have done what you did if you were a spoilt child," he said softly and Lothíriel felt her insides chill. She will kill Helena if that brown haired vixen dared to tell on her. But looking at Éomer's face, she knew he didn't know anything.
"Your majesty if you are talking about the attack yesterday, I'll let you know that the most I had done was to obey orders and stay within the safety of the caves. Lady Helena was the one responsible for everything else," she said.
"I suppose you are right. I am holding up the line, I shall speak with you later princess," Éomer said and Lothíriel felt a sense of disappointment coming from him. But she quickly shook the feeling away and served the next person in line. A sudden shudder passed through her causing her to look up straight into the eyes of Old Mad Daroth. He smiled menacingly at her and saluted her with his mug. She quickly looked away but her heart continued to race. That man really gave her the creeps.
Éomer walked towards an empty seat opposite Helfast and Feälef. As he approached the men started to stand up but he quickly stopped them and sat down by his two friends without much ceremony.
"Hail, King Éomer," Feälef greeted his king, looking comfortable despite his injured arm tucked neatly in a sling. His face was dirty with grime and his smile full of satisfaction. Whether it was because of their victory, the rush of adrenaline that came with manual labor or having emerged victorious in a heated debate between him and the healer on why he should be out there helping rebuild Edoras, one could not say.
"Greetings friends. How does your arm fare, Feälef?" he asked. Éomer hadn't been pleased to see Feälef in the heat of the building despite the counselor's avid affiliation that he was well and Éomer and Helfast were just waiting for Feälef to slack a little before hauling him broken arm and all back to the healing house. So far he had not granted the two the pleasure of doing just that.
"It is well, as I have mentioned a million times to our dear captain here," said Feälef smugly eating his broth. Helfast growled.
"I told you we should have bound his arms and legs when he was still unconscious," Helfast said. Éomer grinned at them. Middle earth would soon freeze over the day Feälef and Helfast agreed on anything.
"You know what your problem is, old friend?" Feälef asked suddenly, turning to Helfast. Helfast stopped eating and looked back at him, an eyebrow raised.
"What?"
"That orc spear wedged up your ass. You really should get it removed," said Feälef and returned to his food. Éomer nearly choked on his soup trying not to laugh. Helfast's eyes narrowed but there was an unmistakable twinkle in it.
"Would you wish me to tell you off your problem, old friend?" he asked in return. Feälef shrugged.
"Not really, but if you insist."
"I do. Your problem, O' Great Counselor, is your virginity," he said. This time Éomer did choke on his soup before letting out a big laugh. Feälef had turned to Helfast, his face red like a ripe tomato. Helfast was playing with fire. To question a Rohirrim's sexual prowess was as good as signing one's death certificate.
"I am not a virgin! I've had my share of… women," Feälef spluttered regretting that he had not decided to strap his sword around him.
"If you say so, Counselor," Helfast said without conviction.
"You are lucky my arm is injured or I would so gladly wrap it around that thick neck of yours," Feälef growled. And it would happen, at that moment, while Feälef glared daggers at Helfast, Elanora came up with an offer to refill their mugs.
"Counselor are you ill? Perhaps you should have the healers have a look at you," Elanora said, a little concern at Feälef's red face, which incidentally had become even redder.
"No, I am fine," he mumbled. She looked at him a little longer before bowing slightly to Éomer and moved to refill other mugs.
"Do you want to know what I think, Feälef," Helfast said after she was out of hearing range.
"No! Keep it to yourself," Feälef snapped, his face forming a scowl.
"Well, I do. What do you think, Captain Helfast?" joined in Éomer, enjoying Feälef's increasing rosy parlor.
"No, honestly, your majesty, you don't especially want to know of Helfast's thoughts. I mean one would need a brain to be able to think, which clearly Helfast does not have," said Feälef quickly. Éomer's grin grew and Helfast chuckled at that.
"If that is so, then the presence of a thought would indicate the existence of a brain so shouldn't we encourage Helfast's newly acquired brain?" said Éomer winking at his smirking captain. Feälef had nothing to say to that. "Continue captain,"
"Thank you your majesty. I was thinking that perhaps if our dear counselor here would actually make an attempt to engage in a conversation with the beautiful Miss Elanora instead of staring at her googly eyed from behind a thick book, then half of his problems would be solved," said Helfast.
"Helfast you are the spawn of an orc, do you know that?" Feälef hissed, shrinking deep into his seat. But Helfast was not done.
"And, if he would grow a spine and actually ask her to marry him, then the other half of his problems would be solved and he would hence be problemless," Helfast said finishing with a sweep of his hand, as if he had found the answer to life's many mysteries. Éomer couldn't help but laugh even louder. Who would have thought that the ever reserved, calculating, grounded Counselor of Rohan was afraid to speak to a woman?
"I am impressed. There is finally a being out there who can render our eloquent counselor speechless," guffawed Éomer.
"Your majesty, you are as bad as he is," Feälef grumbled, having nearly disappeared under the table.
"Feälef, honestly, you are taking this the wrong way. We, as your friends are only concerned about your miserable and lonely life and marriage can be a beautiful thing. It definitely has its perks," said Helfast seriously and smiled as he looked at his daughter a little away from them.
"I am happy as I am," Feälef protested but Helfast shook his head.
"Only because you do not know better. Quills and parchments are cold bed partners, gehola," Helfast said. Feälef didn't respond to that. He had no inclination of starting anything that may further mortify him. Éomer too had stopped laughing and instead began rubbing his chin, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Speaking of marriage, I think I have finally found my queen," he said effectively ending any more disagreements between his two friends.
Day slowly began to fade into night and no one seemed to show any signs of tiredness despite the busy day. If possible, the excitement level increased a few notches and the sound seeped in through the half closed window into Lothíriel's room bringing a small smile to her lips. It was all she could manage right now, as she prepared herself for the evening feasts. She truly did not understand this deep sense of regret that seemed to weigh heavily upon her heart. She had done the right thing, it was no secret what lay in the hearts of the Rohirrim and she should be proud that she had delivered it. Perhaps it's because it came at such a high price, she thought. High price? And what would that be?
"The high price that now Helena and Elanora aren't speaking to me. Losing ones friends is always a high price to pay," she told her mirror. It just stared back at her, not at all convinced. Sighing deeply, she placed the last clip into her hair and inspected herself. She looked presentable and wore the style of her own people, a dress with a high waist and flowing skirt. The color she had picked was a soft yellow and it matched nicely with the flowers she had placed in her hair.
A knock on the door put an end to her scrutiny and she went over to open it. Feälef smiled at her.
"Good evening, your highness, you look very beautiful. His Majesty has asked me to escort her highness to the feast, if she is willing," he said bowing slightly. She returned it with a curtsy, doing well to hide her surprise. She won't hide it that she had expected Éomer to escort her to the feast. Perhaps he is preoccupied.
"She is very willing, Lord Feälef, for any girl would be honored to be escorted by such a handsome knight," she replied with a smile.
"You are too kind, your highness," he said and extended his good arm to her.
"How is your injury healing, my lord," she asked as they made their way towards the Grand Ballroom, which was already full of people drinking and singing.
"It is healing well, your highness, hopefully the bandage shall come off soon," he replied and she nodded. They continued in silence until they reached the great doors leading into the ballroom. He led her to her seat beside Éowyn before taking his seat beside Helfast.
"Good evening, Lothíriel," Éowyn greeted her with a smile.
"Good evening Éowyn. It has been a while since I last saw you, where have you been," she asked. Éowyn rolled her eyes in disgust.
"Where else, but in the clutches of that ogre woman pretending to be a seamstress," growled Éowyn. Lothíriel laughed at that.
"Well, your wedding is less than ten days, you know, and there are still things we need to prepare," she reminded her. At that Éowyn's face grew dreamy.
"I know, ten awful, dreadful, horribly long days. Why can't it be tomorrow?" she said despairingly. Lothíriel just shook her head at that. Sometimes Éowyn's abrupt mood swings confused her. But she didn't have to ponder long for at that moment a blast of fanfare rang through the air. People began to stand and Lothíriel followed Éowyn's lead and stood up as well. The doors opened and in walked Éomer. On his arm was the lady Helena. Lothíriel thought she sensed Éowyn stiffening but a quick glance to the lady showed no changes. Must be my imagination, Lothíriel thought then returned her gaze to Éomer and Helena walking towards their table. As they approached, she bobbed into a small curtsy, but all the while, her insides were in chaos. Such an entrance could only mean one thing. But Lothíriel would not ponder on that. It had nothing to do with her.
"Greetings people of Rohan," Éomer greeted as he stood at his place. Helena quietly went to stand by him. Her father was on her other side. With much pains Lothíriel tore her gaze away from them, the sight ripping into her guts. But this is what you wanted, so get over it, her sensible side scolded. She felt an acute sense of dread when Éomer opened his mouth to speak. She nearly placed her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear what she knew he would say.
"My people, there are no secrets why we are all gathered here tonight. We are all here, safe and well, and it is all thanks to this wonderful lady who stands by my side tonight, Lady Helena daughter of Captain Helfast. She has shown us why she is the daughter of Rohan's most skilled warrior, when she displayed tremendous bravery and astuteness in thwarting the evil plot of the Dunlands with her quick thinking in bringing our people to safety. For this Rohan and her people and king owe her a debt of gratitude, so tonight we shall honor her, Lady Helena, we shall drink to her health and we shall celebrate her existence, for she is indeed a blessing to us all," said Éomer and the crowd burst into cheers and claps. He raised a hand and the room quietened.
"On behalf of my people, I thank you Lady Helena for what you have done," he said. Helena who had remained quiet till then, smiled nervously.
"It isn't a burden to serve my country, your majesty," she said softly. Éomer smiled and picked up his goblet, raising it before him. His actions was copied by every one else.
"To her health, and may the gods bless her three times fold and shine on her always. To Lady Helena!" he cried.
"To Lady Helena," the people echoed and heartily drank. As for Lothíriel she wanted to sing and dance and laugh out loud. The sudden elation was so overwhelming; she was all but knocked back into her seat. Helena was the guest of honor! It made complete sense now! That's why she was there by his side! That's why he didn't escort me, he was escorting the guest of honor, she thought happily. A part of her just shook its head, you are a confusing girl, Lothíriel, you don't know what you want, it thought.
The rest of the night was splendid. She didn't even care that Éomer hadn't spoken more than two complete sentences to her. She was too busy soaking in the feeling of joy and relief to mind. All her previous regrets and desolation were forgotten. Even when she caught Old Man Daroth staring at her with the same evil malice as the morn, she simply brushed it off. She ate all that was given and chatted happily with Éowyn and others seated by her, stating how bright and beautiful that particular night was. And when Éomer stood once again, tapping his goblet lightly to gain attention, she looked up at him, her faced etched with concentration, determined not to miss a word he was about to say.
"My people, do you fare?" Éomer asked and was answered by loud cheering.
"Wonderful. I have one last thing to mention, before we may call it a night. People of Rohan, it is with great pleasure that today Captain Helfast gave me his permission and blessing to wed Lady Helena. My people, behold, your future Queen," he exclaimed loudly and the room erupted in mind deafening applauds and cheers. But within that noise, Lothíriel only heard breaking.
Within that space of mere seconds, the beautiful illusions she had created shattered into a million pieces.
Somewhere in the back of her numb mind, she just about made out the sounds of a scuffle and the shouts of the palace soldiers. But she had not the energy to be concerned. She needed all the energy she had to make it back to her room.
She never knew how tiring pain could be. There wasn't a bone in her body that didn't ache; there wasn't a beat in her heart that didn't sting. Even breathing was painful. Now regretting having declined an escort, Lothíriel realized how nice it would be to have someone to lean on as she dragged herself back to her room. But a million escorts could never ease the hurt. That was hers alone to bear and bear it she will. She eventually arrived to the doors and smiled at the thought of the warm bed behind the doors. She was deeply hoping that a goodnight sleep would give her some peace of heart, and ease the numbness. Right now, she was too numb to feel any emotion and she did not want that for she feared if the lack of feeling did not go away, she'll never be happy again. She pushed the doors open and walked in.
She knew the minute she walked in that she was not alone. However any attempts to escape was thwarted by a huge figure suddenly grabbing hold of her and any effort to scream were effectively stopped when a large cloth was pressed against her face. The sweet smell of chloroform was the last thing that registered to her before it all went black.
End of Chapter 12
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