Elrohir sat quietly at Faramir's bedside. He had ordered everyone, even Éowyn, to leave, not knowing what would happen when the Steward awoke. As the relief of realizing that his brother would live wore off, the elf-lord had remembered his training. He sighed inwardly, recalling one of his father's lessons.
flashback
Lord Elrond didn't look at his son, staring out at a waterfall instead. "Controlling thoughts and memories is one of the favorite tricks of dark practitioners, learned from Sauron himself." He paused and closed his eyes. "They are able to manipulate images into terrible things, things that would make an elf wish to sail West or give up hope altogether."
Elrohir could tell his father was lost in some memory, a haunting memory. "Is there no hope for them?"
Elrond opened his eyes and smiled wanly at the younger twin. "There is always hope. If they possess enough strength, are given enough love, given a reason to live… then the darkness will never survive." The smile faded. "But the memories of the attack will never truly leave, and sometimes there is nothing even the greatest healer can do."
end flashback
Turning his attention back to his brother, Elrohir saw that Faramir was waking up. "Tir?" The Steward groaned and Elrohir focused on drawing away some of the pain. "Tir, it is time to wake up."
Grey eyes fluttered open, then quickly closed again as sunlight hit them. "Put that light out first, please."
Elrohir smiled. 'Humor is good.' "I do not think I have the power to get rid of the sun, Tir. Just let your eyes get used to it. You have been in Rohan's dungeon for 17 days now."
Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say for Faramir tried to bolt upright, stopped only by his pain and Elrohir's hand. "How is Éowyn? Éomer? What are you doing here? Is Pelatarn…?" His eyes darkened so quickly that Elrohir grew uneasy.
"Pelatarn is dead. You finished him off completely. Éomer and Éowyn are fine, though Éomer is a little sore. As for me, I came with Elladan, Estel, your Uncle, and several companies of Gondorians and Rohirrim. Edoras is free."
Faramir closed his eyes tightly as the memories, all his memories good and bad, came back to him. They felt like physical pain and returned so fast that he barely bit back a groan. "Please, I want to see Éowyn."
Elrohir debated whether or not to actually do so. "Before I get her…I need to know how you are."
"You are the healer. You tell me."
'Always the uncooperative patient.' "Tir, after what you went through, the darkness that attacked you, I cannot just know if you are better or not. You will have to tell me."
Faramir looked straight at his brother. "I want to see Éowyn."
Elrohir stared back and saw Faramir's stubborn determination. He also saw the shadow behind the Steward's silver eyes. The darkness may have been defeated, but the effect of the evil was far from healed. "Very well." Elrohir left the room, shutting the door behind him.
When the door opened again, it was Éowyn who stepped through. Seeing her husband awake, the White Lady quickly sat in the chair next to his bed. She stroked his raven hair, not knowing what to say. Faramir looked up and for a moment they gazed into each other's eyes. The Steward bit his lip hesitantly. "Éowyn…" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead Éowyn leaned over and embraced him, her body shaking from released stress. Not caring how it hurt his wounds, Faramir pulled her tightly to him. The dark memories seemed to drain away as he held his wife. Perhaps, just perhaps, this nightmare was over.
"Time to wake up, Iri-wiri."
Lothiriel groaned and swatted at the voice before turning over. "Go'way."
"Is that any way to talk to your father?"
That fully woke her up. She quickly turned back and sat up in bed. "Da!" Prince Imrahil laughed and hugged his daughter. "I am so glad to see you! How are you, have you heard anything from Faramir?"
The Prince of Dol Amroth sat down on the bed. "I am fine, not a scratch as usual. Lord Elrohir told me that Faramir woke up for a bit, but is asleep again." His face grew serious. "How are you, Lothiriel? King Éomer told me how you saved his life. I know you have never killed a man before."
Lothiriel took a deep breath as she remembered slaying Mustayo. "I could not let him kill Éomer, Da. I could not."
Imrahil paused, seeing something in her eyes that he couldn't identify. Shaking his head the Prince bounced slightly on the large bed. "He certainly gave you the most comfortable room to nap in."
Lothiriel looked around and realized that she had fallen asleep in the Queen's Bedroom. "Indeed." She looked at her father. "How long was I asleep?"
"Only a few hours. It is nearly time for supper."
"It is time for supper, my lord." They turned to the doorway. There stood Hild, one hand on her hip, the other holding little Sigel's hand. "King Éomer asked me to request your presence, Lothiriel, if you were awake."
Lothiriel smiled. "We will be right there, Hild, thank you."
A large table was set up on the grounds in front of the Golden Hall. The whole city, along with the Gondorian soldiers, gathered before the table. Everyone brought food to share to celebrate the liberation of Edoras. Éomer, now changed into his royal clothing, sat at the head of the table as he watched his people celebrate. Grimly he saw how few people there were. So many had been lost in the Great War and now this.
The king's thoughts were interrupted completely as his eyes caught movement from the Hall. Hild and Sigel led Prince Imrahil to the table, but it was Lothiriel who walked next to her father that caught Éomer's eye. She had changed into a Rohirrim-style dress of green velvet, a gold circlet brightly adorning her dark hair. Several of the older Rohirrim whispered among themselves that it was as if Morwen Steelsheen, wife of King Thengel, had returned to Rohan. As Lothiriel took the seat to the left of Éomer, she looked at him nervously, seeing the strange look on his face. "Hild found this in the Queen's bedroom and said I should wear it. Do you mind?"
Éomer was almost too stunned to answer, only managing a soft "No, not at all". 'She is the image of a Queen! If only…' Shaking his head, Éomer managed to clear his head. "Is Éowyn coming?"
Imrahil answered, not at all certain he liked how the young king was looking at his daughter. "We looked in on Faramir before we came out. He was asleep, and Éowyn as well. I thought it better to let her rest, as did Lady Hild."
"Mm-hmm." Éomer wasn't really surprised and had gone back to making quick glances at Lothiriel.
Though he thought she didn't notice, Lothiriel wasn't blind and punched the king lightly in the arm. "Stop looking at me and say something so that these poor people can eat."
Éomer gave a slight huff and stood, holding out his mug. The people grew silent and turned their attention to their king. "My people, once again we have been beset by dark enemies. And, with the help of our allies," he nodded at Aragorn who was on his right, "we have defeated them." The people clapped and cheered, raising their own mugs. "Our people who have died here have not died in vain. Let us remember this day: the day Edoras was freed!" More cheering and then the eating began. Éomer sat down and smiled at Lothiriel. "I hate speeches. I was never any good at them."
Lothiriel smiled back. "You did very well, Éomer. Anyway, I do not think your people care about the words as much as the meaning."
Next to his daughter, Imrahil was definitely not liking how Lothiriel and Éomer were looking at each other. As he grumbled silently, the Prince felt someone tug on his sleeve. Looking down he saw little Sigel staring up at him. "May I help you, little one?"
Sigel scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember what her mother had said to tell Imrahil. "Did you know that King Éomer and Lothi shared a sweet-cake?" The little girl didn't know why her mother wanted her to tell this man that, but she didn't mind. She giggled as Imrahil made a funny-looking face.
The Prince, knowledgeable in the traditions of many lands, knew exactly what the sharing of the sweet-cakes meant. "They what?" Sigel rolled her eyes at the silly grown-up and was about to repeat herself when her mother called for her. Since Imrahil's attention had turned to his daughter, Sigel just shrugged and went back to Hild and Fréaláf. She wanted to eat another roll anyway.
Imrahil, on the other hand, was ready to make a certain king's head roll. Lothiriel and Éomer, having caught the conversation, flinched at the Prince's steely glare. "Da, I can explain."
"I should hope so! You have known him for all of eight days!"
Éomer spoke up. "My lord, I can assure you that sharing the cake was completely innocent. I knew Lady Lothiriel did not know our customs and saw no harm in giving her some. There was nothing else to it." Lothiriel nodded in agreement, but was disappointed. She had almost hoped…no, it was better this way. Éomer would marry some maiden of Rohan, and she would return to Dol Amroth and marry some nobleman who spent half his time on the sea.
Being the far-sighted man that he was, Imrahil didn't miss the look on his daughter's face nor the slightly depressed glance that Éomer gave her as he spoke. "Then you have no romantic feelings for my daughter?"
The king of Rohan paused. 'No romantic feelings? Does the fact that my heart jumps whenever I think of her, whenever I see her, and whenever I hear a word that even slightly sounds like her name mean I have romantic feelings for her? Or perhaps the fact that I don't want to live without her? Without her smile, her fire, her support and friendship, I don't think I can live.'
Lothiriel tried not to frown as the pause lengthened. 'Why isn't he answering? Does it mean that…that he actually might love me?' Her heart tightened almost painfully. 'Does he love me as I know I love him?' She took a chance and discretely reached for Éomer's hand. Grabbing it tightly, she snuck a glance at the king of Rohan. 'Please let him feel the same.'
Éomer felt Lothiriel's hand in his and at once his mind was made up. Straightening, the king stared straight into Imrahil's eyes, not flinching at the Prince's cold gaze. "I am afraid I cannot say that is true. At the time I did not have any intentions, but now I would ask you for permission to make Lothiriel my bride and my queen. That is, if she agrees."
Lothiriel's eyes lit up and a grin spread across her face. "I most certainly do. Da, please, he is a good man, you could not ask for better."
"I could ask for someone in Dol Amroth who you have known for longer than a week!"
"Your nephew and Lady Éowyn fell in love in a week," interjected Aragorn who had been listening in. "and you gave your blessing to them."
As Imrahil turned his glare on his king, Éomer moved so that he could face the Prince better. "Prince Imrahil, I love Lothiriel and promise to care for her till the end of my days. I would also never completely separate her from her family and Dol Amroth. She will not be a prisoner here, but free to visit Gondor whenever she pleases as my grandmother Morwen did until her death." Lothiriel tried not to let her relief show. 'Very clever Éomer. Assuage his fear that I will end up as his sister did and mention existing relations to Gondor.'
Imrahil realized the same. He also saw the love in Lothiriel and Éomer's eyes as they looked at each other. "Very well. You have my permission and my blessing in this betrothal." His eyes narrowed at the king of Rohan. "But so help me Éomer, if you hurt my daughter you will find that I will conveniently forget that you are an allied king and you will wish never to have been born. Am I clear?"
As Éomer nodded, Lothiriel smiled and hugged her father. "Thank you, Da. I love you."
"I love you too, Iri-wiri."
At that Aragorn stood, his eyes sparkling. "And now is as good a time as any to announce this good news to lighten the hearts of the people. If I may?" With Éomer's permission, Aragorn cleared his throat and called the people to attention. "People of Rohan and Gondor, today is now more blessed than before! Éomer King of Rohan asks that Lothiriel Lady of Dol Amroth should be his wife, and she grants it full willing. Therefore they shall be trothplighted before you all. As Rohan gave her jewel to Gondor, so now does Gondor do likewise and give Rohan the jewel of the south!"
As the cheering grew to deafening proportions, Éomer turned Lothiriel's face and looked deep into her eyes. "I love you, Bright-eyes."
"I love you too." Smiling, the betrothed couple kissed. The cheers must have been heard in Far Harad.
Like you didn't see that coming.
