::disclaimer:: does anyone else get sick of having to write these for every chapter? why doesn't just have a blanket disclaimer for all stories posted on their site? oh well...i don't own it, so don't sue me.
Chapter XV
Éomer and Erulehton had been sitting in silence for a long while, sipping their ale when the door to the pub opened again and Elphir walked in (or so Éomer thought). He was wearing a long cloak—odd, since he had only walked from the palace. "Erulehton!" he said brightly. "I haven't seen you in ages."
Erulehton squinted and then smiled. "Faramir? What are you doing here?"
Faramir...thought Éomer...That name sounds familiar.
"I thought I'd come to Ethuil Mereth. I haven't been in years." He grinned. "How is your sister?"
Aela came out of the kitchens. "I'm doing well, you rogue," she answered for him. "Where have you been? We haven't seen you since, what, last summer?"
Faramir shook his head. "Longer than that. It's been at least a year-and-a-half." He came toward Aela, picked her up, and gave her a great hug. "I've missed you all."
"Lothíriel's missed you more," said Aela, and Éomer felt a twitch of jealousy.
Faramir rolled his eyes. "My cousin always claims to miss me. Truthfully, I think she misses the gifts I bring from Minas Tirith." Éomer jolted awake. Of course! Lothíriel's cousin, Faramir, who was also allergic to crab.
"And what trinkets have you brought this time?" asked Aela, her eyes dancing.
"What makes you think that I have brought any gifts for you?"
She smiled. "You always do."
He laughed again. "You know me too well, Aela darling. I have something for you...somewhere." He set down his pack and began to rummage through it. "Ah yes! Here it is!" He drew out a chain of silver, a necklace. "The finest silver from the mines in the Ered Nimrais." He linked it around her neck. "It looks lovely on you."
She smiled. "And when am I to wear this, Faramir? It is much too fine for anything I have to wear."
"I suspect you will find somewhere to put it to use." He turned to Erulehton. "And to the brother of the object of my affections—" Aela giggled "—I bring bottles of the finest wine I could acquire outside of Dol Amroth. They are in the saddlebags of my faithful steed outside."
"Then we should go get them lest the street urchins get them," said Erulehton, laughing. "Éomer, would you care to join us?" For the first time, the newcomer saw him. Faramir twitched his eyebrows, obviously questioning the identity of the young man. "Faramir, may I introduce to you Master Éomer of Rohan, here to negotiate a trade alliance with the Prince. Éomer, this is Faramir, Lothíriel's cousin, and Aela's not-so-secret admirer."
"Mae govannen, rochir," Faramir said in the customary greeting. He smiled disarmingly.
"Mae govannen, híren," Éomer returned. "You are from Minas Tirith?" he asked, guardedly. He remembered that it was Lord Denethor who believed that Rohan had fallen under the hand of the dark lord.
"Aye," answered Faramir. "My father is the steward." He laughed slightly. "He believes your kind to be dangerous."
"If that is truth," interrupted Erulehton, "it is only because they are dangerous to our women. He has already charmed your cousin in a mere week, and I believe Aela is falling prey to him as well." He grinned. "You should have seen the women in the fish market today! I don't think Éomer realized it, but they all stood agape as he wandered, lost and abandoned."
They all looked at Éomer who blushed. "The wine?" he mumbled.
"Of course," answered Faramir. The three men went outside to where the horse stood. It was a beautiful creature, Éomer couldn't help noticing. It was a great bay stallion, at least seventeen hands high. He patted it absentmindedly. "Here they are," said Faramir. "I got the best ones I could find." He pulled a bottle out of the saddlebag and handed it to Erulehton.
"Melmësuhto?" asked Erulehton. "When you mentioned the wine, I was afraid you had brought something I would have to discreetly dump into the streets, but this, this is fine wine."
"I told you the finest outside of this fair city, did I not?" asked Faramir.
"Aye, but I was not expecting the finest in the world."
"With the exception of the Elvish wines, of course," countered Faramir.
"Of course. But who are we to judge that which we shall never know?" The two men laughed at a hidden joke in their words and went back inside, leaving Éomer standing with his hand on the horse's neck.
"It has been a strange day," he said to the horse. He thought of all he had done and learned, of Lothíriel and Erulehton and the appearance of Faramir. He sighed heavily. "A strange day indeed." He turned up the road and headed back to the palace.
That night, Éomer received another balcony visit from Lothíriel. "I have wonderful news," she said, waltzing into the room, bathed in moonlight. "Faramir has come for Ethuil Mereth, and Amrothos is my escort for the first night."
"And?" Éomer asked, sitting up.
"And they are going to find a way to get us some time alone." She came toward his bed.
"Alone?"
"Aye."
"But, Lothíriel, why?"
"Because they imagine us in love!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide and falling onto the bed.
"I can't imagine why they would think that," he said wryly, "since we aren't."
"We aren't?" She looked up at him.
"Of course not. We hardly know each other."
She propped herself up on her elbows. "I know your father was strong and your mother beautiful. Your sister is both of these, your cousin is noble, your uncle is—or was—magnificent and you are honest and humble and brave. Your greatest fear is that you will not always be able to protect your sister, but I think she will come into her own and save herself without your help. You are loyal to your king and to your country, so much so that you are willing to abandon your post and possibly lose your high regard to try to make an alliance to protect them. You love passionately, and by that I mean both fraternally and intimately (Mírthmallen is no more an aphrodisiac than any other wine, despite Amrothos' opinion). You remind me of my cousins, especially Boromir when you laugh or become self-righteous, but also Faramir when you become suddenly innocent and pensive. You ride like the wind and are allergic to seafood. You enjoy simple food and ale." She smiled. "See? I know more about you than you thought."
"And how, pray tell, have you discovered all of this?"
"From listening to you and watching you, mostly. You are much easier to read than you realize, Éomer, which is both a blessing and a curse for you."
"How so?"
"A blessing, because it keeps you honest—trustworthy. A curse for the same reason, for you cannot tell even the simplest of lies."
"But what does all of this have anything to do with whether we are in love or not?" Éomer asked, smiling despite himself.
"When I have that part figured out, I shall tell you." She lay back again, laughing. "Until then, you will just have to trust me."
"But how do you know we are in love?"
She shrugged. "I cannot explain it."
Éomer waited for a moment and then said, "What about Erulehton? Do you love him?"
Lothíriel's breath caught. "How do you know about that?" she whispered.
"He told me today...I went into the city and ended up at Saberman's," he explained. "I told him and Aela what had happened, and he told me of you."
She looked down, and Éomer saw a trickle of silver run down her face. "That night was....That was a long time ago, did he tell you that?"
"Aye, two years."
"I would rather not talk about that, please," she said.
"Lothíriel, I did not mean—"
She waved him away. "I know." She laughed, halfheartedly this time. "I hoped I would be the one to tell you, if ever it came to that. I was hoping it never would, but now that it has, I suppose you should know. Erulehton and I never were and never will be. That night was an incident of circumstance. We both had too much to drink, I was too emotional, and neither of us were thinking things through."
"Lothíriel, you sound as if you are apologizing," Éomer said quietly. "Don't apologize to me. I do not care, and I had nothing to do with it. We are not in love, it does not matter."
"Are we not?" she asked.
"No."
"I love you, Éomer. I cannot explain it, I know we only met, but I feel like I have known you for eternity." Éomer said nothing, unable to admit he felt the same way. She laughed again, ruefully.
"What?"
She shook her head. "We are like that faery-tale you told me, star-crossed and doomed, only our end is not so clear. I am drawn to you, yet my brother would kill you if he could. You do not know your fate, but I think I can see it. You will be great among your people, though how you accomplish your greatness is unclear. And will you remember me when you become great? I hope so, but I will not trust to that hope."
"I will never forget you," he promised.
"Will you not?" she asked. He turned to promise it again, but she was gone, over the balcony's edge again, silent as the glittering moon in the sky.
A/N: whoa, that was deep. i was most definitely not expecting all of that. ::points to lothiriel's speeches:: ah well, as i said to my friend andvagorwen earlier today, i do not control the characters, i just write down what they say and do. and now you know the truth of mirthmallen...it is nothing more than a very good wine. speaking of which, i thought i'd mention that "melmesuhto" means "love-draught" in quenyan. just a bit of humor there (i love naming the wines) (no, it has nothing whatsoever to do with tristan and isolde and lothiriel will not try to get eomer to drink...at least, i don't think so).
Replies: (not so many this time because i updated quickly)
lady anck-su-namun: this quick enough for you? and eomer didn't get too weird on erulehton, or at least i don't think so. what do you think?
lotr-nutcase: drunken compromising situations are my specialty. just wait until the next chapter. hehe...::insert evil laugh here:: did you like how i handled lothiriel's "indiscretion"? and yes, it will be interesting to see how she and eomer fare at the festival.....
prettyfoot: i think faramir's part may become a bit more than a cameo. hope you liked it!
hotdogfish: ah, but lothiriel realizes it would be pointless to argue with her father. it's much easier to go behind his back and meet with eomer anyways.
as always, feedback is most welcome!