"You have taken quite a liking to ale," Merry observed, winking at me.
I laughed into the mug I was holding.
"That is all thanks to you, Merry," I said. "Every time I think of ale, other pleasant things spring to mind."
"But it was you who offered the bet!" Merry exclaimed, laughing too. "Still, it is not very feminine, you know. I am beginning to feel guilty. You are the only lady here drinking ale! Next thing you do will be smoking a pipe!"
"And what is wrong with that?" a voice from behind me demanded.
I turned around and saw the King smiling at us.
"My lord," I sprang to my feet, splashing some ale on Merry.
"Peace, Lothíriel," he said dismissively, "I believe all this is quite unnecessary."
"Quite unnecessary," Merry echoed, wiping his face.
"Care for a stroll, Lothíriel?" the King suggested, holding out his hand to me.
Pippin shook his curly head disapprovingly. "Just look at the man… wedded two minutes ago and taking a young and fair unmarried lady for a walk."
Aragorn frowned and called out, "Lord Faramir!"
Faramir had trouble getting to our group, but eventually managed, dragging along Frodo and Sam, who had to cling to their big friend not to get trampled over by the horde of guests. But I had a strongest suspicion that they were simply using every possibility to spend time in my cousin's company.
"What does my King command?" he asked most solemnly, though the corners of his mouth were twitching suspiciously.
"I wonder if there is any room in the dungeons for a couple of those who should know better than to mock a King," Aragorn said.
"Not the younger one, please!" Faramir pleaded, putting his hands on Pippin's shoulders protectively. "For some stupid reason, he is very dear to me."
"I take it the rest of us could easily go to cells," Merry muttered.
We all laughed.
"Have you seen my wife, Faramir?" the King asked.
I smiled silently at the obvious delight in his voice as he uttered the word. I had heard about his long attachment to the Elf lady and was amazed at the power and beauty of the feeling between them. It was not the passion that joined Faramir and Éowyn, or Éomer and me; this was something very deep, strengthened by long wait and trials, and to me, it was simply breathtaking.
I felt a strange compassion towards Arwen, as she seemed to be very lonely in the City. She was so calm and composed, and there still were her brothers and father, but they were to part, for the whole eternity! Other ladies at the court looked rather at a loss as to how to approach her, and usually decided not to try at all; she herself tried to keep a brave face and so far succeeded…
I was brought out of my reverie by Faramir, shaking my shoulder gently. "Cousin? Are you awake?"
I looked at him, startled. "What is it? And where is the King?"
He hugged me, laughing, "Let us get you to your room, Thíri. You are tired and it looks like you have had enough ale for tonight!"
I pushed him away indignantly.
"Are you implying that I am drunk?" I demanded angrily.
He laughed again, pulling me close, and was about to say something, but was stopped by a soft voice asking, "My lord, I hate to interrupt you, but have you seen my husband?"
Faramir jumped to his feet.
"My lady," he bowed.
Arwen smiled at him. "So where is he?"
"Gone searching for you, my lady," Faramir said. "Would you like me to go and find him for you?"
"Oh, no," she shook her head. "Perhaps your cousin could accompany me? We could look for him together."
"Certainly," I said, rising too.
As we left Faramir behind, she took me by the arm and I felt her lean on me heavily.
"Please," she whispered, "can you take me out of here for a moment? I do not feel well. I hate to burden you with this, but it will take some time to find Estel… and my father and brothers will only fuss unnecessarily."
I nodded, sliding my hand beneath her elbow to offer her more support, not attracting unwanted attention. We proceeded to the hallway, Arwen giving occasional smiles to the guests, who appeared too awed or uneasy to offer her anything but a shy bow or an unsure smile.
When I finally managed to get her to the small back garden where I used to come with Éomer, she was literally dragging her feet. I led her to the small bench and we sat there. I became quite worried as I pressed my fingers to her wrist and felt her racing pulse. Her hands were very cold, and I started massaging them gently.
After a while, she was better. I took off my cloak and wrapped it about her. She nodded her gratitude, drawing the collar together.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I was really frightened… nothing like this ever happened to me before. I felt I could not breathe, and I was dizzy… and my legs were like jelly."
"Have you ever felt like this in a crowded room?" I asked. "I have seen it happen when it is too stuffy."
She smiled at me.
"I do not think I ever had been in a stuffy room before I came here. Or in one so crowded."
"Well, I am not sure about Elves," I said hesitantly, "but it can happen to some of us people."
"I am not sure about Elves either!" she laughed. "I have never been ill, not in my entire life! But one has to start some time, right?"
I smiled too, feeling attracted to her in an instant. Whether it was because of her vulnerability, which suddenly brought her down from the pedestal we all had placed her before even seeing her, or because of her ability to jest, a quality I valued very much in anyone; but I knew I liked this Elf.
"I believe I have something for you," she said, taking my hand. "Something to repay your kindness to me. Did you know that we passed Edoras on our way here?"
My heart missed a beat.
"No…I did not," I whispered.
"The King of Rohan wanted you to have this," she said softly, placing a small package in my hand. "In fact," she smiled again, "he spent half a day trying to write you a letter, but then abandoned these attempts, saying he could not tell you anything that you did not already know."
My hands were suddenly damp and weak; I took the package from her and unwrapped it carefully, revealing a silver brooch in the shape of a rose, with green enamel leaves and cream-coloured petals. It looked very new, and suddenly, a scene flashed before my mind's eyes: a flower carried by the wind to a Rider, and an angry Éomer demanding the gift… He must have had it made specially for me…
I swallowed, flooded by warmth and gratitude, and brought the ornament to my cheek, feeling its cold uneven surface.
"Thank you," I said to the Elf, pressing her hand slightly.
She nodded in acknowledgement.
"The Lady Éowyn also sent her greetings," she said. "And there is a letter to your cousin, though that will have to wait a little. Will you believe me if I say I simply forgot all about it?"
I laughed. "Poor Faramir! He probably thinks she abandoned him."
"There you are!" boomed from behind.
Aragorn approached us quickly and took Arwen's hand.
"Are you all right, love?" he asked anxiously, and I almost laughed at his mother-hen tone.
Arwen shot me a warning glance and smiled at her new husband.
"I am fine," she said rising and taking him by the arm. "We had a most interesting conversation with the Lady Lothíriel, hopefully, not the last of such. Shall we return to the guests?"
As I watched them walk away, I felt an arm wrapped around my waist. It was Faramir.
"Sad, is it not?" he said.
"Sad?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you and the King were friends."
He laughed quietly, "Selfish, am I not? I just envy him, cousin. So do you, I think."
"Lothi!"
I turned, deliberately slowly, and rose, smiling at him. He rushed to me and clutched me to himself, breathing into my hair.
"Oh, Lothi… how I missed you, my love… I could not wait to see you again…" I could feel his ragged whispers against my head, and then he took my chin and kissed me, first on the lips, very lightly, and then started dropping kisses all over my face, almost feverishly.
When the first storm of his passion was over, I sighed contentedly, pressing my face into his chest. He had one of his hands on the back of my head, stroking it gently.
"Are you coming to Edoras too?" he asked after a moment.
"Do you want me to?" I grinned.
He did not smile, but embraced me even tighter.
"I… I was prepared to beg you if you did not want to," he said. "Lothi, I do not know how I can go through this. They are preparing my uncle's bier, for tomorrow, and I am supposed to be there… but I just cannot. I know it is foolish, but all the time I was back in Rohan, I almost believed that he was just on a visit to Gondor and could be back any moment. And now… now we have to…to…"
He pressed his brow to my head, and finally finished, "To bury him…"
He shuddered. I pulled him carefully to the bench and kissed him.
"Just tell me how I can help you," I whispered.
"If only I knew how!" he moaned miserably. "So many people have told me that I should not keep my grief to myself, that tears would bring me relief… but I cannot weep, Lothi. It feels like there was an enormous weight right here," he brought my hand to his chest, "and it hurts so much!"
"It will pass, believe me," I said, embracing him. "However hard it is to bear now, it will pass. You may not think it likely, but there will come a time when we just sit together in the sun and remember them with a warm smile rather than pain. And we shall tell our children how brave and valiant they were, and how we loved them… and feel a little frustrated as our little ones look bored with the tales…"
He smiled weakly at this, but I continued, "Yes, it will be so… and it will make me glad, for this will show that all these trials are completely in the past."
He kissed the top of my head, sighing.
"We have never talked about children so far. I guess they will be quite interesting, with the two of us for parents."
"We shall see," I chuckled. "Oh… thank you for the wonderful gift you sent me."
He stroked the silver flower, which I was wearing on my breast, with his fingertips, not saying anything.
"How does Éowyn fare?" I asked.
"Oh, my dearest sister is a true ball of fire," he laughed. "I suspect that all her feverish activity in the matters of state was just to keep herself occupied in the absence of your cousin. I cannot complain, though. She has helped me a lot. Does he have the same dreamy and absent look?"
"He does indeed," said Aragorn, emerging form the darkness. Arwen was at his side, grinning at us, and the royal couple was closely followed by Faramir, who sent me a mischievous wink before protesting loudly, "That is entirely untrue! And you should see yourself, by the way!"
Arwen was laughing quietly. "Well done, Faramir. Serves him right."
I smiled, seeing them jesting so freely; the two men had by now become fast friends, and that had done them both loads of good.
"Faramir," Éomer said, "I believe I have a letter for you, from that…hmm…lady who I left behind and who you have so very rashly decided to marry. However, while I do sympathise with you on your choice of bride, I shall be quite content with a brother like you. I only hope you do not mind me in this role."
"He does not," Aragorn declared. "But he already has one, so we must ask him if he wants two."
He clapped Faramir on the back, smiling. My cousin swallowed painfully, struggling to keep his composure. All this talk of brothers was still a very tender area for him.
As he finally raised his eyes to look at the two other men, they were filled with tears, but he smiled and nodded, saying, "I shall be honoured."
"Thíri, stop doing that or you will fall off," Faramir chided as I rose in the stirrups again, trying to catch sight of the land before us.
"I am quite happy with one father, Faramir," I shot back.
My father gave a choking sound and said, "Better leave her alone, nephew. She will not learn it until she does fall to the ground. And then," he glared at me, "I shall be the last person to help you back on your horse, young lady!"
The solemnity of the riding had gradually worn off, and now I was simply impatient. At first, all were respectfully quiet; then, little by little, they started to talk, and now I could catch an occasional smile or even a burst of laughter as the hobbits teased Gimli the Dwarf for his newly learned riding skills.
Merry was not with them; my little friend was very quiet all the way through, guarding the dead king's arms on the great wain where the body had been placed. He never left the place during the day, and at night, he would make his bed as near to his dead master as possible. For some reason, his grief pained me most; it seemed most unfair that one from such a perfect little country as his Shire should see such cruelties or lose friends to a war.
Arwen rode now with her husband, now with her father and brothers. I knew that these were their last days together, but she looked very peaceful if a little sad. But then, her choice had been made many years, not days, before, and it had been thought over hundreds of times, I guessed.
"We have all grown accustomed to the thought that one day I shall be parted from them," she once said, smiling sadly and picking at the soft grass we were sitting on. I took her hand between mine and squeezed slightly.
"I shall never leave him. I do not regret anything, Lothíriel," she said. "I never shall."
At the close of the second week of our journey, Éomer rode to us and asked my father's permission to take me with him for a while.
"I do not recall him doing that as they sneaked away by night," I heard Father complain to Faramir, who laughed quietly at his words.
We two rode forward, and Éomer swept his hand over the land before us.
"This is Rohan, Lothi," he said in a soft voice.
I watched a great greyish green plain, stretching as far as my eyes could reach; the rich high grasses moved in waves, whispering softly in the wind and reaching up to the sun; the wind blew hard into my face, like it did back at home, but the smell was different, a lot warmer and sweeter.
I slowly dismounted and sat in the grass, bringing my both hands down to touch it; it was coarse and warm, and, when I clenched my fists, grabbing a handful of grass in each, and then unclenched them, it left faint green marks on my palms.
I looked up at Éomer, pale and tense, breathing hard, as if his entire life depended on the words I was about to utter. I smiled at him and said, thinking of Arwen, "Yes and no."
He knitted his brows at me.
"What do you mean?" he asked sharply.
I smiled again, rising to my feet.
"Yes, I shall be able to live here," I said. "And no, I shall never regret my decision… as long as you love me."
In an instant, he was on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. He did not answer my words; but the thumping of his heart that I could feel even through his mail did it perfectly.
TBC
OK, some of you asked me to make this a bit longer, so I thought, Why not, and added another piece. But the next chapter will be the last.
Great thanks to all the reviewers!
Yours,
Lilan