A/N: lariren, someone else reviewed and said that lothiriel was very fey. i think that is probably the best one-word description for her. also, i'm glad that you caught the significance of the dream...you were correct on both accounts. and the sites i used are listed as links at the end of my bio.
thankies for all the reviews, everyone!
::disclaimer:: i own none of the characters (with the exception of saeriel). only the plot.
Chapter IV
It was nearing noon when the message arrived. Lothíriel had been instructing Éomer on the proper usage of the word "mellon" when the errand runner from the falconry entered her drawing room.
"My lady," he said, breathing heavily, "word from Prince Imrahil." He handed her a slightly crumpled letter sealed with blue wax.
"Thank you," she replied. "Go tell the cook I said you could have a sweet cake for bringing this directly to me."
The boy's eyes danced with delight. "Thank you, milady," he said, bowing low before running to the kitchens.
Lothíriel smiled after him as she broke the seal of the letter. As she read her father's message, her smile quickly faded. She bowed her head, almost, Éomer thought, as if in defeat.
"Is something amiss?" he asked.
The princess took a deep breath and turned to him. "It seems the bandits were larger in number than orignally thought. Adar says it will be a few days yet before he is able to return, but Elphir will arrive tomorrow." She forced a smile. "He worries for his wife and new-born son."
"You did not say your brothers were married. Why were their wives not with you yesterday?" Éomer jumped at a chance to steer the girl's mind away from the letter she held.
"Only Elphir is married. He and Saeriel were wed last spring. Alphros was born only three months ago, and Saeriel was weakened by the birth. She's been fine for the past two months, but Elphir worries. He was loathe to leave his wife's side, but duty called. Speaking of which," she declared, "I need to tell Saeriel the news. Would you like to come with me? And then we can get some lunch. I'm starved."
"Certainly." Éomer stood and offered her his arm. He was surprised at how quickly she had recovered from the knowledge that her father would not be returning as soon as hoped--something that surely would have brought many women to tears.
"Saeriel?" Lothíriel called as she opened the door of the cottage on the outskirts of the palace gardens. On their way there, she had explained to Éomer that it was Elphir's wedding gift to his wife--a home near the palace, but isolated enough for privacy.
"I'm in the bathroom," answered a female voice. "Alphros needed a changing. But make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a minute." Lothíriel seated herself and guestured for Éomer to do the same. Moments later, a woman holding a small child came into the room. She had very curly flaming red hair--something Éomer had never seen before. "Lothíriel" she exclaimed, "you didn't tell me you'd brought a friend." Particular emphasis was put on the last word, causing Éomer to blush crimson. Lothíriel just grinned.
"Saeriel, may I present Éomer, Éomund's son, nephew of Théoden-king, newly-appointed Third Marshal of the Mark, and the emissary from Rohan." She turned to Éomer. "I did get the titles correct, didn't I?" He nodded mutely, the blush creeping up to his ears. "Good. Éomer, this is Saeriel, Elphir's wife."
"Mae govannen, rochir," she said, bobbing her head slightly. She smiled warmly. "You have a long name for one so young."
"Mae govannen," he mumbled in return.
"You'll have to excuse his pronunciation," said Lothíriel. "He just started Sindarin studies this morning."
"So you've taken him as a student until your father and brothers arrive?" Saeriel inquired. "But aren't they supposed to get back today?" She sank slowly into a large chair, cradling Alphros in her arms.
"That's what I came to tell you," Lothíriel said quietly. "I received a message from Adar this morning. There were more bandits than they thought. Elphir will be back tomorrow, but Adar and Erchirion and Amrothos and the rest won't be back for at least a week."
"And undoubtedly they'll have wounded with them."
"Yes. We'll have to start gathering bandages this afternoon, but I wanted you to know Elphir was on his way."
"Thank you," said the older woman. As the other two stood to go she stopped them. "Have you two had anything for lunch?"
"No," replied Lothíriel. "We'll get something from the kitchens, though." She guestured to Éomer. "He doesn't know it yet, but we're having a picnic on the beach."
Saeriel laughed. "Should I send a chaperone?"
"What?" asked Éomer.
"No, no," said Lothíriel. "We'll stay out of trouble. There will be enough mariners around that he won't be able to try anything." She gave a sidelong glance to Éomer.
"It's not him I'm worried about," countered Saeriel. She turned to Éomer. "If she tries anything, just threaten to tell Elphir everything. That usually stalls her long enough for the poor soul to get away."
Éomer merely blinked at her as Lothíriel protested. "Saeriel, I never--"
"Oh yes you do," she said, smiling smugly. "Now, scat, the both of you. I need to put Alphros to sleep."
Lothíriel took a deep breath. "Very well. Come along, Éomer, I'm starving." And she stormed out of the cottage, leaving Éomer blinking in astonishment. "Well?" She stuck her head back in the doorway. "Do you want lunch or not?"
"Uh...."
"Go on," said Saeriel. "I doubt she'll try anything now. But be on your guard." She grinned. "If there's one thing I've learned during my years in the palace, it's that Lothíriel will try anything once, even if her victim has been forewarned."
A/N (again): so our fey princess is not so innocent as she first seemed. up next, the picnic...hehe...this could be interesting.