Chapter Sixteen
"This is your last chance, Éowyn. There is still time to change your mind yet," Éomer looked at his sister riding beside him, his face a mask of gravity. Éowyn turned to him, her expression a mirror of his, nodding quietly before promptly backhanding his shoulder, eliciting laughter from the Dol Amroth royal family, the loudest coming from the healing heir, his good humor restored when he had finally been declared well enough to leave his bed.
"Laugh now, Prince Elphir, your turn will come soon," Éomer grumbled, rubbing his sore shoulder, his words met with amusement from the healing prince. A week had passed since Elphir's stabbing, and under the care of Lady Helena and the Dol Amroth healers, his injury had healed beautifully, and so did his mood, much to his brother's and father's relief, and in truth, the rest of the palace inhabitants.
The entourage of two carriages and nearly fifty people, some wearing the green and gold of Rohan and some the sea blue of Dol Amroth made their way through the seven walls of Minas Tirinth to be greeted by cheers of the people of the city. The two standards, one of a galloping white horse and another of a black swan, fluttered merrily in the wind, and the roads were littered with sweet smelling rose petals. The Steward's wedding had been the topic of conversations for the last several weeks and preparations had begun well into the beginning of the week. From the bottom most level right on to the seventh level, banners and ribbons were strung across trees and windows, balconies that looked out onto the main road were decorated with bright flowers, and shop owners decorated their windows with green and gold in honor of Éowyn. Gracing the display cabinet of the Baker's shop was a foot tall prancing horse made from white chocolate and adorned with green ribbons.
Lothíriel looked at the scene before her and her heart swelled with happiness at seeing all the joyous faces in the crowd. And they were all here to celebrate the wedding of Faramir, a man who Lothíriel had long ago decided deserved all the happiness the valars would offer. She chanced a glance at Éowyn, who was gracefully waving to the people gathered, already taking on her role as a Steward's wife by acknowledging their cheers and well wishes, and reaching out to catch the bouquets tossed at her from the balconies above.
"She will make him a wonderful wife and a very happy man," her father spoke up from beside her, pulling her out of her reverie. She turned to him and nodded.
"Yes, she will, and the valar knows Faramir deserves to be happy," she replied. Imrahil smiled at her and reached out an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders pulling their horses closer together.
"Aye, that he does," he replied then turned his head so he could look at her face. Imrahil stared at her for a while, his eyes seeming to drink in her features, and a wistful smile decorated his lips.
"Father, what is it?" Lothíriel asked, a little confused by the sudden sadness in her father's eyes. As if suddenly coming out of a trance, Imrahil shook his head and smiled brightly at her.
"Nothing, I was just thinking how you'll make a wonderful wife as well," he said then gently dropped a kiss onto her forehead before stirring his horse to the front of the line, ridding up beside Éomer, leaving Lothíriel feeling confused. But by then the procession had reached the entrance of King Elessar's castle, and the king with his queen were waiting at the front steps for them.
"Éomer, Imrahil! Welcome!" Aragorn cried out, rushing down the steps to eagerly greet his guests with a tight hug to each man. He had missed his brothers at arm very much and to be reunited with them under such a joyous occasion filled his heart with such bliss that courtly manners were temporarily forgotten. Queen Arwen followed behind at a much calmer pace but light was radiating from her eyes indicating that she shared her husband's feelings.
"Aragorn, we meet again! You have done well my friend, The White City has never looked better," Éomer said to Aragorn who acknowledged the compliment with a grin. He then turned to Imrahil's sons.
"Prince Elphir, how are you feeling? We had received news of your injury and had prayed for your swift recovery," Aragorn said as he shook hands with the three princes.
"I thank you for your prayers, Your Majesty, for they were obviously heard and answered as I stand here a fully healed man," Elphir replied. Aragorn nodded in approval.
"I am pleased to hear that, Faramir was quite worried and will be most glad to see you again," he said. At the mention of the Steward, Éowyn, who had been exchanging pleasantries with Arwen, turned to the Gondor king.
"And where would he be, Your Majesty? I had hoped to see him on arrival," she asked, ignoring Éomer's rolling eyes. It was Arwen who answered instead.
"Do not worry, Éowyn, you will see him tomorrow at your wedding," she said. Éowyn's hopeful face fell at that and she looked as if she wanted to strongly object to it when Lothíriel came up beside her and took her arm.
"It is an old Gondor tradition, that the bride and groom must not see each other before the ceremony. It is said to be bad luck to the marriage if they should meet before then," she said trying to placate the Rohan lady. Her words were obviously effective as Éowyn calmed down and nodded, although somewhat reluctantly.
"Do not despair, Éowyn, after tomorrow, you shall be able to see him and be with him anytime day or night. One day shall not matter," Helena added from Éowyn's other side. A loud snort was heard from Éomer's direction.
"I already feel sorry for him," he said then flinched good naturedly when assaulted with dagger looks from both Éowyn and Lothíriel. Aragorn laughed at that and clapped the Rohan king on his back.
"And pray tell, Éomer, when will we be invited to YOUR wedding?" the grin on Éomer's face immediately faded to be replaced with an flushed face and stammering, and Éomer tried to ignore the piercing looks he received from the Dol Amroth princes. From the ladies side, Lothíriel had turned a pretty shade of pink and averted her eyes to the ground. Arwen, who had watched the exchange, laughed inwardly but decided to put an end to her two friends discomfit.
"Estel, my love, perhaps we should show our guest inside. There are still many things to do for tomorrow," she said, reaching out to take her husband's arm. Aragorn, feeling that Éomer was embarrassed quite enough, nodded in approval.
"Aye, Imrahil I shall take you to Faramir, is that all right with you?" Aragorn asked and Imrahil nodded.
"Yes, I believe that sounds like a good idea. Sons, will you be joining us?" Imrahil asked then turned to his sons. The three nodded.
"I too will come, I do not think I have ever seen Faramir out of sorts," Éomer joined, his humor restored at the thought of a flustered Faramir.
"Brother, you will not tease him, is that understood?" Éowyn went to stand before him, her stance threatening although there was a small smile on her lips. Éomer responded with an innocent look that earned him a light pinch on the arm from his sister.
"The ladies and I shall meet you again at dinner then?" Arwen addressed her husband as the other laughed at the two siblings antics. Aragorn nodded, kissed his wife's hand and ushered the men into the castle, to his study where a restless steward and soon to be husband was pacing the room. Arwen led the ladies to the opposite wing of the castle, where Éowyn, Lothíriel and Helena would be staying in. She led them until they reached a set of heavy oak doors that were promptly opened by two guards.
"Ladies, I hope this is up to your satisfaction," Arwen said as she swept into the room, the three other ladies following, Helena's mouth hanging open in awe. The room that Arwen had placed them in was in fact a large suite, equipped with a huge living room and three separate bedrooms. The furnishings were made from the darkest of woods, each carved with individual designs and covered in silk covered cushions. The floor was covered in bear and wolves skin and against one wall was a huge stone fireplace. Adjacent to the fireplace and opposite the main door was a set of windows that spanned the entire length and width of the wall, with heavy velvet curtains lining it.
"Your Majesty, this is truly exquisite, I most definitely am satisfied," said Helena as she moved around the room, inspecting the woodwork and silk tapestries adorning the walls. Arwen laughed and recognized the compliment with a nod. Éowyn had disappeared into her room to ensure her dresses had arrived and most importantly her wedding dress was in good condition. Lothíriel had moved to the great windows and was pleased to see it looking out into the Queen's garden. Memories of her first proper encounter with Éomer came to mind, causing a small pleasant tingle to run down her spine and pinken her cheeks. She looked up briefly when Arwen came to stand beside her.
"Princess, I am curious. When will King Éomer's wedding take place?" she asked while still looking out into the garden.
"Honestly, I do not know your majesty. We have discussed it of course, and he knows what lies in my heart, but as yet, he has not gone to see my father," she answered softly. Arwen turned to her.
"You do not think he wants to marry you?" she asked. Immediately, Lothíriel shook her head. She knew Éomer did want to marry her. That was not what weighed heavily in her heart.
"Nay, that isn't it. It's just that… he believes that Rohan is still too much a war torn country to receive a new queen," she sighed and slowly dropped her head to rest on the cool glass. In a consoling manner, Arwen wrapped her arms around the troubled princess's shoulders.
"Have you spoken to him of this?" she asked. Lothíriel nodded.
"Yes, I have. I have made it quite clear that whatever healing Rohan may need, I wish to be by his side to help, for better or for worse. And yes, he has said that he agrees with me but as I have said, he has yet to speak to my father about our marriage," she said.
"Be patient, all things will come to those who wait," consoled Arwen. Lothíriel lifted her head and smiled weakly. Arwen gave her another soothing pat before leaving her to join Helena in Éowyn's room. Lothíriel turned back to the gardens below once again lost in memories.
"I pray I will not have to wait too long," she replied softly.
"Faramir, stop drinking yourself into a stupor," laughed Amrothos as he plucked Faramir's fifth glass of wine from his hands only to have it taken back by the Steward and swallowed in one tilt of the head.
"I can not help it. Every time I think of tomorrow, my chest clams up, my stomach churns dangerously and I feel the remnants of the last meal make its way up my tract," he said and went to pour himself a sixth glass. However, he was unable to maintain a steady grip on the decanter, and a few drops of the red liquid spilt onto the table.
"I believe that is a sign you've had enough, nephew," was the stern voice of his uncle. Imrahil raised himself of his seat and went to pull his nephew away from the liquor table, firmly planting the restless man into a nearby armchair. Faramir dropped his head onto his hand, and groaned at the beginning of a headache. From the adjacent chair, Erchirion snickered.
"Do you think this is funny?" Faramir glared at the other man. Erchirion shook his head.
"Oh no, of course not. But it is just punishment, don't you think?" he asked innocently and Faramir's glare intensified. He knew his cousin meant it as punishment for all the times he would torment a pain filled Erchirion when the said prince had returned from a drinking binge with his company and sporting a headache.
"Chirion, that's enough," chastised Imrahil then turned back to the Steward, kneeling before him. "Just breathe, Faramir, and relax. Tomorrow you will be married to one of the most wonderful of woman and it will truly be the beginning of the rest of your life," he said gently to the other man. Faramir lifted his head and smiled.
"I know. I know that well, but I can't help it. Éowyn is truly wonderful and she has already made me the happiest of man, but what if I disappoint her? Will I be a good husband to her? A good father to our children? What if I turn out to be like Denethor?" he whispered, the fears that had been plaguing him for weeks finally escaping into his words. Imrahil shook his head and pulled the man into a hug.
"You will be a great husband and a greater father, I am glad to say that you are your mother's son. Do not let the memory of your father cloud your own judgment. You are not him, you are not your father. You are Faramir," he said. Against his shoulder, Faramir nodded and he pulled back to smile at the older man.
"I am Faramir," he repeated.
"And don't you forget that," said Imrahil nodding at him.
"You will give me away, won't you?" he asked and for one moment Imrahil saw the timid child, full of insecurity, constantly lost within his brother's shadow and once again he pulled Faramir into a bone crushing embrace.
"Of course, I will! You may not be of my seed but you are in every other way my son!" he whispered with vehemence. And as if to seal his father's words, each of the sons of Imrahil planted a kiss onto their cousin's head. Faramir pulled back from the embrace and looked up at his cousins. The very same men who he used to play with as boys. The same men that he would find brotherly solace in when his own was too far away. And the man kneeling before him was more of a father than Denethor ever could be and it felt right that Imrahil should take on the role of father of the groom.
Éomer and Aragorn, who had remained silent, too rose from their seats and squeezed his shoulders tightly, effectively conveying their love for the young steward. Looking across the room, Faramir had a sudden epiphany. The love of a father he had so desperately wanted and the love of a brother he thought had been lost forever was now truly his. And they were all here in this room; celebrating with him… celebrating him and the feeling overwhelmed his so much he had to look away as tears pricked his eyes.
"Thank you," was all he could say, his voice unsteady with the intensity of his feelings. The men were silent for a while allowing Faramir to come to terms with his feelings, before Éomer raised his glass.
"Come, gentlemen, this is a day of celebration. No more tears, no more sadness, a toast to Faramir. May his and Éowyn's life be long and prosperous!" he cried raising his goblet high. The others followed his lead and raised their glasses.
"To Faramir! May his and Éowyn's life be long and prosperous!" They chorused together.
"And may their marriage be filled with love and lots of children," added Aragorn, and the small group laughed as Faramir's face tinged a slight red.
"After you, my king," he responded, and the laughter increased, the once somber mood gone to be replaced with merriment as the men and especially the groom, waited anxiously for the dawning of the next day.
Lothíriel woke up the next morning to the weird sensation of being watched. She opened her eyes quickly and sighed in relief when she saw it was only Éowyn sitting on her bedside, her eyes unfocused and was nervously biting her nails.
"Éowyn is all well?" she asked, her voice a little husky from sleep.
"The sun was shinning in my face and the birds were making such a racket," she answered absently. Lothíriel laughed at her response and sat up, much more awake now.
"Actually, it's considered lucky to be awakened by birds singing and the sun shinning on your face. It's supposed to symbolize good fortune and happiness for your married life," she said. Éowyn nodded for a bit then turned to focus on the princess and Lothíriel saw that there was a certain murkiness in the expressive eyes.
"Éowyn, what is wrong?" she asked, reaching out to place a comforting hand on the blond hair.
"Just a little nervous, I suppose. Not that I'm having seconds thought or such," said Éowyn, quickly adding the last statement in case that was what was on the princess's mind.
"I have no doubt of that. Today, you'll be starting a new life with another person; it is quite natural to be nervous. But as long as you remember why you are marrying him, all will be well," she said soothingly.
"Oh, Lothíriel, how can I forget? I believe I am truly marrying the most wonderful man in the free world," Éowyn sighed and a little of the fear ebbed away to be replaced by a happy wistfulness. Suddenly the door to Lothíriel's room burst opened and a frazzled Helena ran in.
"Is she here? Oh Éowyn! I nearly died of fright upon seeing your bed empty. Come now, there is much to do to prepare you and we must start now," Helena cried, and made a grab for Helena's hand. Lothíriel took the hint and got up from bed to drape a silk robe over her nightdress. Éowyn however did not move from her spot and instead began patting Helena's hand, the wistful look still in her eyes and smile. Lothíriel caught Helena's eyes and together they rolled their eyes at Éowyn.
"Éowyn, if you are not ready in time and consequently late for your own wedding, there will be many a ladies eager to take your place," said Helena wryly. Éowyn's eyes widen at that and in an instant she was off the bed and scurrying to her room.
"Well, that was most effective," laughed Lothíriel and the two ladies shared a smirk before they were startled into a hasty run by the sudden barking of the bride in the next room, quite clearly telling them to hurry.
Nearly two hours later, the sun had fully risen to what was promising to be a beautiful day. Standing before the full length mirror looking more beautiful than the new day was Éowyn. Her dress was white as pure snow, the neck wide to fall gracefully across her shoulders. The bodice was snug around her trim torso and the sleeves large and billowing at her side, completely encasing her arms.
"Just a few more touches and additions and you'll be ready," said Helena, who fixing a tuck in Éowyn's skirt hem. Lothíriel, who had disappeared behind a small screen, reappeared with a long blue sash which she carefully hooked one end of the sash to a part mid way of the sash around Éowyn's waist. It dropped low to rest on her hips, defining her hourglass figure even more. The extra bit hung in the middle of the front of her skirt, where its end touched the hem of the skirt and there was an embroidered picture of the White Tree on it.
"I can not believe I am looking at myself. I do not think even Éomer will recognize me," sighed Éowyn at her reflection. The other two ladies stood and flanked her from both sides, and all three of them had glowing smiles on their faces. However, the three of them were jolted out of their reverie when a loud knocked was heard from the main door leading into their suit. The next moment, a lady servant walked in and announced that Éomer King would like an audience with the bride. The announcement was greeted with a stifled shriek from the still-in-her-nightdress Dol Amroth princess who flew back into her room, a laughing Helena just slightly behind her. Once the two ladies were safely hidden in the princess's room, Éomer was admitted in and shown to Éowyn's room.
"Éowyn. I hardly recognize you," Éomer gasped as he looked at his sister. Éowyn blushed to hear the sincere admiration in her brother voice.
"I know the feeling. I hardly knew myself. Who would imagine under all the grime there was this?" she said, laughing a little to hide the sudden embarrassment. Éomer feeling her discomfit laughed as well and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"No doubt the grime will all come back before the day is over, and you will be yourself again," he laughed. Éowyn smiled at her brother's teasing, his humor helping ease her anxiety a little.
"I wish mother and father could see me. What I would give to have them here today to see Faramir and I wed," said Éowyn suddenly. Éomer nodded solemnly at that and understood perfectly what Éowyn meant for it was one of his greatest regret that his parents would never meet Lothíriel or Faramir for that matter and know that their children had chosen well.
"I believe they can see you and as long as we remember them, they will never be too far. I do know that they are very proud of you, just as I am," he said and the two siblings shared a moment of mutual understanding. Even after all the years that had passed they missed their parents very much and found solace in each other. Then the two lapsed into silence.
"Nervous?" Éomer broke the silence after a while. Éowyn simply nodded. With a gentle smile, Éomer pulled his sister into an embrace, cautiously as to not ruin her carefully created look.
"Tis just pre wedding jitters. Today will go wonderfully and you will tell your grandchildren one day how today was the most beautiful day of your life," he whispered to her.
"Promise?" was the quiet question and the childhood question brought back memories of when it was just the two of them against the world, a time when Éomer wasn't a fearsome warrior and Éowyn wasn't a proud lady of Rohan but two scared children who had only each other to depend on with the passing of their parents, and it was then that Éomer had told Éowyn he would never leave her. She had made him promise her and till present day he had yet to break that promise.
"I promise," he answered her now as he had answered then and he knew that he would keep that promise as well till his dying breath. They remained in each other's embrace for a moment longer before Éomer broke away.
"Come sister, it is time. It would not do to have Faramir think that you've changed your mind and left him. He is already nervous enough as it is," said Éomer with a chuckle as he thought of the steward pacing in his room, waiting for the hour that he would say "I do". But that was Imrahil's area, which the old prince undertook with great forbearance. Thinking of Imrahil…
"Éowyn, where is Lothíriel? Has she left?" Éomer asked. His question brought a small laugh to his sister's lips.
"No, she and Helena are readying themselves. One of her brother's will escort her," said Éowyn. Éomer nodded and secretly felt relieved of the news. He had felt a slight apprehension that one of the court gentlemen would take on the role of her escort which when thought about now did seem ridiculous as her brother's wouldn't have allowed it. He turned his attention to his sister again and was surprised to see her looking at him sadly.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. I just had hoped that it would be a double wedding, yours and mine," she said. Éomer just shrugged at that. It was due to his own stupidity that he and Lothíriel were not married and he would have to bear the consequences of it bravely. Éowyn's regretful look then suddenly changed to a calculating one.
"When are you planning on marrying her?" she asked shrewdly.
"Éowyn, just concentrate on your wedding. I know what I am doing," Éomer replied warily. His statement was received with a snort and disdainful muttering which he responded with a light cuff to her head.
"Come, it's time. I can't believe I am finally getting rid of you," he said teasingly but Éowyn just laughed at him and linked her hand to the crook of his arm as they made their way to the palace grounds.
Outside a large crowd consisting of noblemen and peasants alike had congregated at the footsteps of the palace to witness the wedding of their beloved steward to the White Lady of Rohan. A long raised dais had been constructed underneath the White Tree where Aragorn would stand to preside over the ceremony. A lower level platform at the base of the dais seated those of immediate kin and finally the open area was filled with the lower classmen all eagerly awaiting the arrival of the bride and groom. Starting from two separate doors in the palace was a stretch of red carpet that led to the two opposite end of the dais.
Suddenly a loud blast of ten trumpets halted all conversation and all eyes turned eagerly to the two doors. Both doors opened slowly and three figures emerged. From the left was Éowyn on her brother's arm and from the right was Faramir with Imrahil by his side. Both of them were blocked from each other's view by a third person carrying a huge fan, one on Éowyn's left and the other on Faramir's right. The minute the two stepped out into the open air, the crowd burst into loud cheers and clapping, and several roses were thrown onto their paths. All the guests were on their feet to greet the two, happiness and jubilation radiating on all the faces present but for the bride and groom themselves, only the feeling of sweet torture filled their beings as they walked up the steps to where Aragorn stood. Their vision of each other was still covered by the cloth barrier, but finally the barrier came down and blue eyes met blue eyes.
Whatever feeling of doubt that either may have felt diminished the second their eyes met and nervousness was replaced by unconditional love. Faramir gave his soon to be wife a shaky smile which she eagerly returned. They barely noticed when the crowd quietened down and Aragorn stepped forward between them.
"Who gives this lady to be wed?" Aragorn's voice echoed loudly. Éomer took Éowyn's hand from his arm and placed it in Aragorn's.
"I, Éomer son of Eomund, give my sister, Éowyn, willingly to be wed," Éomer said. Aragorn nodded and took her hand before turning to Faramir.
"Who gives this man to be wed?" he asked again. Imrahil repeated Éomer's actions and took Faramir's hand and placed it in Aragorn's other hand.
"I, Imrahil of Dol Amroth, give my son, Faramir, willingly to be wed," Imrahil said. There was a momentary silence as Faramir whipped his head to look at Imrahil, thinking the man had made a mistake but no, Imrahil was aware of what he had said and his words from the previous night was strengthened even more. There were tears in Faramir's eyes when he turned back to the front. It was one thing to be called son by Imrahil in private but to have it acknowledge so publicly… words could not begin to express what Faramir felt inside. He could only hope that he would be able to repay his uncle for all the love the elder man has shown him. Aragorn gave his hand a small squeeze before joining his hand with Éowyn's before reciting a prayer:
May God be with you and bless you
May you see your children's' children
May you be poor in misfortunes
Rich in blessings
May you know nothing but happiness
From this forwards
"Do you Faramir take this woman to be your wedded wife?"
"I do."
"Do you Éowyn take this man to be your wedded husband?"
"I do."
"Then by the power of the ancient kings of old, I bless this union and pronounce you husband and wife." Aragorn stepped back allowing Faramir and Éowyn to close the gap with the cheers and congratulations ringing in their ears, Faramir claimed his wife's lips in a searing kiss, a promise of many more to come.
Several of the scenes and dialogues were snippets from Return of the King modified to suit the scene and to avoid accusations of plagiarism.
The reception following the wedding was a boisterous and joyful event. There were couples on the dance floor dancing gaily to the tune of a specially hired orchestra and by special request of the bride and bridegroom, the guests were entertained to the upbeat melodies of the shire performed by Peregrine Took and Merriadoc Brandybuck, the silver and blue of Pippin and the green and gold of Merry forming a harmonious union, nearly as harmonious as the union of the Steward of Gondor and the White Lady of Rohan. The aforementioned Steward and Prince of Ithilien, sat with his wife and newly titled Princess of Ithilien at the main tables situated on a raised dais where on Faramir's left flanked his King and Queen and on Éowyn's right, her brother King of Rohan. But tonight was not the night of kings, but a night to celebrate Faramir and Éowyn. People from all corners of Gondor and Ithilien had flocked to the White City to witness this joyous occasion, for although those who have had the pleasure of meeting and listening to the wondrous promises of the new king of Gondor had immediately taken him into their hearts, it was the Steward of Gondor that they loved best, and tonight all eyes were on him and all prayers that passed the lips of the faithful were pleas to grant Faramir and his new life joys and blessings.
All except two pairs of eyes.
From his seat next to his father and brothers, Elphir, who really hadn't taken his eyes off her the entire night, had spotted the Lady quietly slipping out of the Grand Hall into the night outside. Partially from curiosity for her sudden departure and partially for concern of her well being, Elphir excused himself from his seat and as stealthily as she had, he quietly followed her footsteps to the night outside. He stood for a while in the darkness and gazed at the back presented to him, for he was experienced in the art of covertness and the lady had no idea that she was no longer alone. She was standing on the balcony that surrounded the hall, looking down into the many gardens of the palace. A light breeze had picked up, and gently played with her brown hair and the hems of her sky blue dress. He remembered when he had first caught sight of her, walking into the Grand hall on her father's arm, looking so beautiful in the pale blue dress and her hair let loosed around her petite frame, the only ornaments on her hair were a pair of pearl hairclips on each side of her head, to keep any unruly locks from falling to her face, her cheeks tinged pink with excitement and her eyes sparkling with happiness for her friend and her husband, and he knew at that moment, that he would keep the look in her eyes and guard it jealously with his life, for on this day, on this night, Elphir of Dol Amroth had found the only woman he could spend the rest of his life with and with no one else but her would he father a child with and grow old with.
A quiet sigh, carried softly by the wind, reached his sharp ears and brought him back to the present, to the reality that here he was with the woman he loved and the next several minutes would determine… everything. Not wanting to startle her to much, he made a show of clearing his throat and the lady quickly whipped around, her stance suddenly stiff with surprise and a little anxiety but just as quickly the stiffness left her shoulders and she sagged with relief at seeing his face, although a tinge of sadness was present in her gladness to see him.
"My Lady, why do you stand out here alone? What is on your mind?" He asked as he moved to stand next to her, his back leaning against the railing of the terrace, so he was leveled with her. If Amrothos or Éowyn had at that moment found a minute to spare and leave the Grand Hall they would have told the two that they stood in the exact spot where Éomer and Lothíriel had shared their first kiss and had the first stirrings of love for each other planted in their hearts. But the only witnesses present were the stones and the trees and they were silent, as secret keepers of romance usually were wont to be. The lady, who till then had been silent in her musings, just smiled at him shyly, uncommon to her quite energetic characteristics, but appropriate in this instance for how could she explain to him that he was on her mind.
"Nothing of great importance to anyone but myself, my lord. These gardens are beautiful and a perfect place to receive solace and comfort, my lord," Helena answered quietly. His brow furrowed at that, and a deep form of irritation stirred in his heart, for who had dared to upset the lady?
"My lady, pray tell, who would have the gall to give offence to you, tell me and allow me to set him straight," he said calmly but she saw the annoyance in his eyes and laughed, for heart had suddenly felt lighter at his show of gallantry. She would almost say it was borderline possessive. And what more could she want than to be possessed and owned by this magnificent man.
"Nay, my lord, no one has slighted me, please do not be angry," she replied and for the first time her clear brown eyes met his stormy grey ones and they held. But she suddenly turned away for she had seen a flicker in his eyes but she was too afraid to acknowledge it, for fear she may have been mistaken. Elphir reading the sincerity in her eyes was also a little surprised to see sorrow in it as well. For the first time ever, he abandoned protocol and gently took her small hands into his, rubbing the soft palms with his callused fingers.
"Helena," he whispered, drawing her closer to him, "tell me what is bothering you? Do not let tonight of all nights be leaden with despair. Would you not tell me what lies so heavy in your heart?" he asked.
"My lord what makes you think I am in despair?" she asked.
"I see it in your eyes, they are sorrowful and…. I will not allow such a thing if it is in my power to prevent it," he said, the latter portion in a rush, and under the pale moonbeam, his cheeks flushed red. But Helena on hearing those words, immediately snatched back her hand, her tone suddenly cold.
"Your promises are sweet but deadly, my lord. You promise me this tonight, but what of tomorrow? Or next week? You speak of guarding my heart yet will you break it come morning when you return to your fair city? Then what will be of that sorrow I feel then? How will you prevent that pain from lacing my heart and breaking my soul?" she hissed, her tone low but angry. She did not care if she had just unearthed her secret longing, but she will not let him play her. If what he felt was a need to repay her kindness when he was injured, then she did not want it. She would not have his gratitude when she had already lost her heart to him. If she had been of lesser upbringing she would have run and never looked back. But she didn't she stood her ground and waited. As for Elphir, he had heard all he needed, and there was no bliss to match a love requited and no words to explain it. So, instead of words, he reached for her and pulled her into his embrace and kissed her.
In her shock, Helena could only allow herself to be swept in the sensation of his lips pressed against hers, the pounding of her heart and the tingling of her skin where his hands had cupped her neck. Closing her eyes, she gave in to him and when he sought entrance she willingly parted her lips and their tongues dueled sensually against each other before she finally submitted to him. They would have remained so and foregone the night's celebrations, but the sudden noise of some drunken lads in the gardens below pulled them away and the reality and the inappropriateness of their actions dawned on them. They were silent for a while but occasionally shared small smiles. Finally the silence became too unbearable and had to be broken.
"Elphir, what do you feel for me?" she asked timidly, suddenly unsure of their previous activity. He smiled at her and once again took her hands into his.
"Is it still not obvious? I love you, Helena. I finally understand what my sister feels when she is with Éomer. I understand the dull ache in my chest when I do not see you and the happiness that wells up within me, threatening to overcome me when you look at me and grace me with a smile. I understand now that that love is a gift, and I would have it to share that gift with you, if you are willing," he said and not for one moment did his eyes leave hers, and silently he willed her to see in them what lay in his heart. And she did, she saw the love reflected and knew her love was not forsaken.
"Aye, I am more that willing my lord, for your feelings are a reflection of mine, for I too love you," she said, and little drops of crystal tears trickled down her cheeks. Elphir gently wiped them dry and placed another sweet kiss to her lips.
"So I will wed the Lady Helena if she is willing, and no longer will she be lady of Rohan but ride across the five rivers and dwell in Dol Amroth for all that is fair there is made fairer with her presence," he said.
"And will you bear your people's questioning? Are there no more women of this fair country for the fair prince of Dol Amroth to wed when the king has taken an elf maiden and the steward the white lady of Rohan?" she asked saucily. He laughed at her words and kissed her once yet again.
"I would, and my life would be ever more wonderful," he replied and one last time that night he claimed her lips with his and they stayed for a while longer on the terrace basking in the ambience of their newly found love before finally deciding to re-enter the Grand Hall.
Time had passed slowly and when the two entered, there was still a healthy atmosphere of festivities and the number of people in the halls had not diminished. On the dance floor, Faramir swayed gently, his wife in his arms following his lead gracefully.
"Faramir, how much longer do we have to stay?" she whispered in his ears, her annoyance quite obvious. Faramir softly chuckled at her impatience but a slight whiff of desire and anxiety swept through him at the thought the end point of tonight. Through fits of embarrassed groans, Faramir had undergone a speedy tutorial courtesy of Imrahil on the happenings in a bridal chamber and though he was quite familiar with the mechanics, although mostly from his brother's stories than from experience, he was still anxious and frankly, quite afraid to disappoint. As if sensing his feelings, Éowyn soothingly rubbed his back and placed a warm kiss to his neck.
"Do not worry, tonight will be magical," she whispered in his ears. She felt his lips form a smile on the skin of her shoulder, where it rested.
"Shouldn't I be the one reassuring you, my love, and the one eager for tonight?" he whispered teasingly. She pulled back a little and smiled before kissing him tenderly. They kissed for a while longer, oblivious to the stares and grins of others, before pulling away.
"Yes, you should be my lord, which leads me to wonder why are you stalling?" she asked and knowing he had been caught, he just grinned at her.
"You are too cunning to be fooled by me. Aye I am stalling but I had thought you would want to hear this. It was to be announced after our departure, but as I said, I thought you like to be here to hear it yourself," he said cryptically. She looked at him suspiciously but he was looking at the royal table and gave a small nod which was replied by King Elessar. The King of Gondor then turned to Imrahil and Éomer and several words were exchanged before the young king rose to his feet. He made a signal to the minstrels to stop playing and lightly tapped his goblet the tinkling of crystal effective in silencing the chatter and all eyes turned to him.
"My lords and ladies, friends from far and near, my family, not long ago, we had gathered at the step of Minas Tirith, a union of men from all walks of life, our friends and allies from Rohan, our brothers from Dol Amroth, Lebennin, Lossarnach, and our very own Citadel soldiers, united by a force that threatened to consume us. Tonight, once again are we all together united, but tonight the reasons for such a reunion is a joyous reason, to celebrate the wedding of two people who have overcome the differences of cultures and traditions and have bonded themselves, in heart, body, soul and mind. Please raise a glass to Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien and his lovely wife, Éowyn, Princess of Ithilien," he said and as one those sitting rose to their feet and toasted the newly weds. Aragorn waited for a while longer, waiting for the murmur to die down, before he continued.
"This, as we all know and the history books have confirmed, is not the first liaison between the two realms of Gondor and Rohan, and many Rohirrim women have found love and home here in Gondor, just as many Gondor women have found love and family on the lands of the Mark," at this point several heads turned and knowing grins were exchanged.
"Fear not, I am not about to launch a history lesson," here there were several burst of laughter and a few cheers, "but, I do wish to highlight one event in history, which will be quite familiar with many of the guests here and close to home for our dear Éowyn and King Éomer. It was the third age, 2943, when a restless warrior from the borders of Rohan decided to venture out of his realm and explore the wonders around him. His journey took him far and wide and on many occasions he would be seen ridding with soldiers of Gondor on many orc hunts, his green mantle a stark contrast to the black. One day, his ride took him to the south of the White City into the lands of Lossarnach, where he was greeted warmly by Fillibert, Lord of Lossarnach," a moment's pause as the people of the land took a moment to think of their departed leader.
"There were many beauties found in the land, mountains that stretched pass the limits of sight, wild flowers growing in abundance and sounds of waterfalls filled the air, and the young rider of the Mark enjoyed every moment of his stay. But one night as he took a stroll around the beautiful forests of the land, he came to a pool and was rendered speechless at the vision that lay before him. She had the fair coloring of her father's people and the angelic voice of her mother's. He had fallen for the beauty of her voice and later for the beauty of her soul. They were married shortly, with the blessings of her father and ruling steward and before long he returned to The Riddermark, and took her with him as Queen of the Mark, for the she was Morwen Steelsheen of Lossarnach and he Thengel son of Fengel, sixteenth king of Rohan and grandparents to Éomer king and his sister Éowyn, and by the lineage of her father, who hailed from Belfalas, she was a distant kinswoman''' to Imrahil," he paused once again as the people absorbed this information, and some sneaked looks at the Rohan King, who, some noted, appeared to be slightly trembling. Lothíriel, who had been listening attentively to her king's story smiled at Éomer, and two held each other's gaze for while, and the trembling passed. But Aragorn was not yet finished.
"Two months ago, another restless warrior from Rohan came to our lands with a fleet of six thousands, and though his purpose was different to his grandsire, the ends to his visit would appear to be the same and would bid to rebind the ties broken between the two lines. Ladies and gentlemen, yesterday eve, Éomer King approached Imrahil prince of Dol Amroth with a request and a plea that was granted willingly by Prince Imrahil and when they approached me for consent, I could not but whole-heartedly and with much cheer in my heart grant them the blessing they asked for and it is my pleasure to announce…" he paused here and his smile widen to great proportions. Immediately there were exchanged of looks and similar grins were breaking out in the crowds, Éowyn looked at her husband, her eyes wide with question then excitement when he nodded, Helena unconsciously gripped Elphir's arm and held her breath, Lothíriel, who couldn't seem to find the breath to breathe, gripped her father's arm in an iron grip not willing to believe it but wishing with all her heart….
Aragorn inhaled deeply…
"…in one year's time to this day, at the steps of Meduseld the Golden Hall in Edoras, Éomer King will wed Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth accompanied by her father's and my blessing," he cried and instantly there was clapping, cheering and although the Dol Amroth contingency were quite sad to loose their Swan Princess, they also couldn't help but feel happy that she had found happiness and love. As for the two, Lothíriel had burst into tears at the news and was currently buried in her father's embrace, her tears soaking his silk tunic while her brother's surrounded her, hugging her and their father, and Éomer was engulfed in his sister's arms and she too was crying. Helfast and Feälef, who had attended the wedding, were standing behind him, a hand on each shoulder. The princess and the king were then swarmed by well wishers, and Lothíriel began to cry again as those from the Rohirrim entourage informed her with all sincerity that she would be most welcomed as Queen of the Mark.
It was only a good several minutes after the announcement was Éomer able to slip past the well wishers and seek out his future bride. He found her with her father, still receiving congratulatory words from the guests and with a small nod to Imrahil who understood the look in his eyes and released his hold of his daughter, Éomer swept in between the people and pulled Lothíriel into his arms. Another cry of cheers broke out but the two ignored it and the outside world.
"Riel, I love you," he whispered. There were so many other things he wanted to say, but there were no words. Once again, Lothíriel felt her tears flow and she hugged him tighter.
"I love you too, my love. I was so afraid you would make me wait," she sobbed and he gripped her harder.
"Nay, I have wasted too much time with my foolishness, I would not prolong this anymore, not when I love and need you so much in my life," then he pulled back and looked at her.
"You do still want to marry me? I know I should have spoken with you before hand but it is just that…" he was unable to finish as she stopped his words with a press of her lips against his.
"I believe that's quite enough. You are not married yet," came the stern voice of Imrahil. The two pulled apart and Lothíriel was pulled to her father's side. He gave Éomer a stern look but there was an obvious twinkle in his eyes.
"Come and sit, there are still those who would like to wish you well," he said to the two of them. He held out his hand for his daughter but then Éomer stepped forward.
"Imrahil, may I?" he asked and gestured to Lothíriel. Imrahil nodded and proceeded to make his way to join his king and queen at the main table. Éomer held out his arm to her and she placed a hand in the nook of his elbow. They followed behind the Dol Amroth prince and took their seats at the table.
Éowyn sighed as she looked at her bother and Lothíriel, so involved in each other, and the love radiating brightly from their eyes, and she did not mind at the least that she and Faramir were no longer the focus of the night. Her thoughts were momentarily distracted when she felt someone watching her. Turning she came into eye contact with the youngest prince of Dol Amroth. They shared a small smirk and a single word was mouthed.
Finally.
The year passed quickly and before long Lothíriel was at the great door of Edoras. The city had changed greatly in the one year, and true to his words, Gimli had assembled his fellow dwarves and built a fortress of thick stones around the city and the gates were solid pieces of mountain rocks that required the effort of men and beast to open it. She was staring at the said gates now, not noticing the intricate artwork done by elves depicting galloping horses which were outlined in mithril. Her entourage, which consisted of her father and brothers, King Elessar, Queen Arwen, Lord Faramir, Lady Éowyn and the future prince of Gondor, Eldarion who kept company with future prince of Ithilien, Elboron, her country's noblemen and women and the most significant, the newest princess of Dol Amroth, Lady Helena. The Rohirrim had decided to embrace the wedding traditions of Gondor, where unlike Rohan, did not have a year long engagement requirement and the Lady Helena and Prince Elphir were married by the white shores of the city three months after the announcement of their betrothal was made, incidentally the day after Éomer and Lothíriel's was made.
That one week of celebrations had been the only time Lothíriel had seen Éomer, and the time spent alone was even less. She had missed him terribly and even the constant flow of letters from him did not dull the ache she felt. She could not wait for the moment where she would no longer be Lothíriel of Dol Amroth but Lothíriel of Rohan, and take her place by her husband's side.
They had arrived three days ago, and as per custom, they had camped outside the gates of Edoras. The arrays of large tents and banners made it seem like a small city had emerged next to Edoras. But during the whole three days, there was not a sight to be seen of Éomer king, and any communication, which mostly involved flowers and poetry to Lady Lothíriel from the king, was done via Feälef, the king's advisor or Helfast, Chief Marshal. But those three days ago and on the morn of the third day, today, Lothíriel would rid up the streets of Edoras to her final home. She was already positioned before the gates, in a dress of ivory white, its skirts voluminous and covered a good portion of white mare's back. Her black hair was let loose but in it were woven little studs of diamond, a likeness to a star filled night sky, and her face covered by a thin veil. Riding at the foremost front would be Elphir and Faramir each bearing a banner of their city, the white tree for Minas Tirith and a silver swan for Dol Amroth. King Elessar and Queen Arwen would ride next followed by Lothíriel and her father, looking handsome and regal in his official attire as the ruling Prince of Dol Amroth. Behind her would be Lady Éowyn, Lady Helena, Prince Erchirion and Prince Amrothos and making the rear would be the noblemen and women.
Finally, after a while of waiting, it could be heard from the other side of the gates the scraping of rock against sand and little by little the great stone gates of Edoras opened until it could accommodate the entry of the bridal company. Faramir and Elphir were greeted by Helfast and the Second and Third Marshal and after a few words were exchange, they led the congregation up the roads towards Meduseld. All along the newly laid stone roads there were hundreds of people lined, held back by the human wall of guards and all were craning their necks eager to see the beautiful princess that had saved their city so when Lothíriel rode by, she was greeted by cheers and jubilations from the Rohirrim, small bouquets of colorful flowers were thrown by her horse's feet. She took all this in from behind her veil and she smiled for not only was she so accepted but she understood the cries that were directed her way. While Éomer had spent the year making Edoras fit for a new queen, Lothíriel had spent her days with Éowyn and Helena and spent long days and nights learning her husband's language and cultures. Her efforts had paid off well, for she could easily hold a conversation with the two Rohirrim ladies and her knowledge of Rohan history was extensive that she could have easily been mistaken for a native of the Mark.
But all thoughts of history and culture were forgotten when finally the golden steps of Meduseld came into view and there at the top most step was Éomer, he was fitted with a long robe of dark green and gold embroidery that swept the ground at his feet, the middle parted to reveal a silk green shirt and leggings that were a shade darker than his robe. On his feet were calf length hide boots and around his trim waist was his faithful sword sheathed in its scabbard. On his head was a crown of gold and mithril that glinted majestically under the sun's rays. But it was not all these that held the princess captivated, it was his blue eyes that since she ridden up to the Golden Hall, he had not taken it off her and followed her as she dismounted her steed to walk up the steps on her father's arm to his side and when she took her place to his right, she saw reflected clearly in his eyes the love he felt in his heart and in his eyes she saw forever. Their moment however was broken as Feälef moved to stand between them, facing the crowd of eager faces that had come to witness the wedding of their beloved king and their future queen. Wearing a robe of pure black, around his shoulder was a satin cloth of white that was a symbol of his authority as guardian of this realm and in his right was the power to marry the king of the land to his chosen lady.
"We have come together here, brothers and friends, in celebration of the joining together of Éomer, King of Rohan and Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth in the sacred act of matrimony." Feälef's voice rang loud across the city. He then turned to Lothíriel.
"Bride, is it true you come of your own free will and accord?"
"Yes, it's true," was her reply. Feälef nodded.
"And with whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?" At this point Imrahil who had stood silently by her side stepped up.
"She comes with me, her father, accompanied with the blessings of her king and family," Imrahil said and he and Feälef clasped hands a sign of agreement.
"Then take your seat, my lord, with the sound knowledge that your sacrifice is not in vain," he said and Imrahil nodded. gently, he lifted Lothíriel's veil and planted a kiss to her cheeks and the two shared a moments of love before he Imrahil dropped the veil and made his way back down the steps to stand with his sons, his stoic face hid nothing the sadness in his heart as from this moment she would no longer turn to him for reassurance but to her husband who now owns her happiness as her sadness. But in his sorrow, there was a ray of contentment that the man he had given her too was worthy of her love and would protect her with his life. To his left and right, Amrothos and Erchirion wrapped an arm around his shoulder offering their support to their father and though Elphir sought solace in his wife's arms; his mind reached out to their father and comfort was given and taken.
Lothíriel had followed her father's movements till he reached his place and with him went a piece of her heart but it was soon again that her attentions fell back to the man before her. Feälef then continued with the ceremony, but now he turned to the language of his own people, not to dishonor their western allies but a test to the princess, if she is deserving of the crown and mantle she will bear on herself as queen. Éomer had argued this point thoroughly with his advisor, but the man would not be swayed. If she could not master their language and culture then what use will she be to her people, and Éomer saw the logic in it and conceded. He knew Éowyn and Helena had diligently coached her in the wedding rituals but still he was apprehensive.
"Please join hands with your betrothed and listen to my blessing." He said and Éomer's worried were reassured when without hesitation Lothíriel raised her hands for him to take. He saw in her eyes and smile that she would pass this test set before her and any other that should be placed in her way.
Like a stone should your love be firm, like a star should your love be constant.
Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you in your marriage,
Let the strength of your wills bind you together,
Let the power of love and desire make you happy and content,
And the strength of your dedication make you in separable.
Have patience with each other for storms will come but they will pass quickly.
"Bride, if it be your wish for Groom to be bound to you, for only you have the right to decide then place the ribbon to his left wrist and say so at this time," Feälef said to Lothíriel and handed her a blue ribbon.
"It is my wish," she replied in perfect Rohirric and tied the ribbon around Éomer's left wrist.
"Groom, if it be your wish for Bride to be bound to you, for only you have the right to decide then place the ribbon to her left wrist and say so at this time," Feälef then addressed Éomer, passing to him a pink ribbon.
"It is my wish," he replied and as she did, tied the ribbon to her left wrist.
"Then repeat after me:
In the spirit of Divine Grace that resides in all our hearts,
By the life that courses through my blood
And the love that resides within my heart,
Take thee to my hand, my heart and my spirit.
Éomer and Lothíriel who had taken hold of each other's hands, looked deep within the others love filled eyes and repeated the words in perfect unison, her beautiful alto mingling harmoniously with his deep baritone. Feälef satisfied with them, took from a nearby guard a chalice filled with sweet wine. He beckoned to Éomer to lift the veil from off Lothíriel's face.
"May you drink your fill from the cup of love," he said as he passed it to Éomer. Éomer held the chalice to Lothíriel's lips for her to sip then took the chalice from him and held it to his lips for him to sip before she handed it back to Feälef.
"By the power invested in me by Béma, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your love so endure that it's flame remains a guiding light unto you," Feälef concluded the wedding ceremony in westernese and then stepped back so Éomer could reach out to draw his wife into his arms and under the golden roof of their home and before the eyes of their friends and family, Éomer bent to seal her lips with his own with a passion that was answered willingly by Lothíriel. Cries and whistles broke out within the city dwellers for they enjoyed the display of affection of their king and his wife and enthusiastic applause from the guests of the city. When the need to breath became too great, Éomer reluctantly pulled away and with great effort and will power did he release her to turn to his guests and subjects, his face radiant with happiness.
"Men of Rohan! Hear now the words of your king! One of beauty and fair heart has come to claim a place by my side as Queen of these lands. Here stands Lothíriel daughter of Imrahil, Ruling Prince of Dol Amroth. Shall she be queen and enter into the Golden Hall and dwell here?" he spoke loud for all to hear.
And all the hosts and all the people cried yea in one voice.
Smiling to Lothíriel whose eyes were bright with unshed tears, her happiness like a beacon on her face, he turned to Feälef who held in his hands a casket and when opened revealed a beautiful tiara of several gold filament intertwined together, with intervals of emerald placed between each fiber. He then placed the circlet onto her raven tresses and around her shoulder he draped a mantle matching the color of his with fur lining the edges and held together by a gold fastening around her neck.
"I honor what you have given me, my king, and may I forever more represent my king and my people with grace and sovereignty befitting my position as Queen of Rohan. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people and thy ways as I respect myself," she said loudly, each word in perfect Rohirric and curtseyed before him.
"Rise, my queen, and may you rule long and blessed by my side," he said and brought her back to her feet. Placing her hand in the crook of his arm, he turned once again to those gathered at the steps of his home.
"Behold the Queen!" he cried and trumpets were blown and clear voices held in song rose above the cheering, a gift and praise to Éomer King and Lothíriel Queen of Rohan. Without taking their eyes of each other, the newly weds turned to enter the Golden Hall where inside were table of delicious food and beverages ready to be dined upon and as the oaken doors opened to admit their new resident, Lothíriel inhaled deeply for this was now her home, no longer will she cavort with the swans but learn to race with stallions, no longer will she be awaken by the smell of the salty sea but by the musk of hay and steed.
No longer was she Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, but Lothíriel, Queen of Rohan.
Lady of the Horse.
The End.
(11,000 words)
Éomer became a great king, and being young when he succeeded Théoden he reigned for sixty-five years, longer than all their kings before him save Aldor the Old. Such was the plenty and peace of his reign that he was given the surname Éadig, 'Blessed'. In the War of the Ring he made the friendship of King Elessar, and Imrahil of Dol Amroth; and rode often to Gondor. In the last year of the Third Age he wedded Lothíriel, daughter of Imrahil and their son, Elfwine the Fair, had a striking likeness to his mother's father.
(Appendix A (II & III), 'The Kings of the Mark')
A/N: '''Note that when Morwen was referred as Imrahil's kinswoman, the meaning in this text being related by place of birth and not by blood.
My most humble apologies to all those who have remained faithful to this story and I hope that this chapter was worth the long wait.
My deepest gratitude to JRR Tolkien for introducing me and so many others to his world with the publications of his Lord of the Rings trilogy.
The blessings were taken from the Pagan Wedding Vows and modified accordingly, and those indicated by italics were said in Rohirric.
And there you go, finally it is done. Please do not look for a sequel for there will be none.