A/N: Replies to reviewers at bottom. And just for the record, LothirielofRohan is a mean, cruel, hateful person! If you are following her Boromir story (In the Way), you will soon find out why I say this - and no doubt heartily agree with me!
Chapter 4
The next two days were largely spent resting from the trip. Eomer was soon immersed in catching up on things that had happened while he was gone and while Eowyn had been in residence. Once he was fully briefed, she set out for home and they were sorry to see her go.
The next morning, Elfwine was awakened by a hand shaking him rather vigorously. "Come on, sleepyhead. The day is wasting while you lie abed!"
He looked up to find his father standing over him, dressed for sparring. Slowly he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and yawning, "Did you need me for something?" he asked.
"Yes! I need you up and dressed so we can have our sparring lesson. I do not have all day for this, you know. Now up with you!"
"Father," he began, then stopped, trying to quell his annoyance, "I cannot spar without a hand to hold my sword." Surely this was as painfully obvious to his father as to him.
"Last I looked, you were given two hands. If an enemy damages your right arm, do you just lay on the ground and let them slay you, saying 'I need my right hand to fight'? Of course not! You would pick up your sword and do the best you could with your left. And, with a bit of practice, you may prove just as capable with that hand as you were with your right. Now get up!" With that, Eomer turned and strode out, leaving no room for further argument. But Elfwine knew only too well that his father would return if he didn't follow quickly enough.
As he dressed, more than a little angry with his father, and possibly his mother also who may have suggested this, he unavoidably considered what they were proposing. His friend Freawine fought left-handed naturally. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that perhaps it was possible to learn how to do it.
His man-servant entered then and stepped toward him, bowing and inquiring, "Shall I lace you up now, my lord?" Elfwine had been pressed to dress himself as much as he could, and his father had even taken to doing things without his right hand and offering suggestions on how to do things easier. Once his father had figured out a way to do a task with one hand, Elfwine was required to learn and do it ever after that. The only things he got out of doing were the things his father hadn't mastered. Dressing was not difficult but drawing the laces on his breeches and shirt was, so his servant aided him in that bit, as well as in putting on his boots, which still proved difficult one-handed.
When he ventured forth, he found his father in the small chamber set aside for the family meals, talking with his mother. Lothiriel rose and brushed his hair back from his face, smiling in amusement. "You always forget to brush your hair when your father is hurrying you along! But I suppose it will just become unkempt during your workout, so you might as well leave it this time."
She gave him some bread and cheese to eat, then picked up an apple as well and tossed it to her husband to carry for Elfwine. With that, she gave them each a kiss on the cheek and sent them on their way.
The two men made their way to the sparring ring as Elfwine ate. Thaldur bowed when they arrived. "My lords, welcome. We will begin when you are ready." Elfwine swallowed the rest of his meal, anxious to get this over with quickly, and nodded to indicate his readiness.
"Very well, then. We will go back to the beginning, since this is a new venture for both of you. Start by hefting your sword and giving some practice swipes. This will help loosen up your arm and shoulder, and help you get the feel of the blade in your hand." Eomer did as directed, though Elfwine took a long moment to stare at the sword he held. It had been specially made for him as a gift when he turned sixteen, and was officially considered a man and allowed to join an eored.
"If you stand there daydreaming instead of warming up, I will defeat you easily," his father teased, and Elfwine could not restrain a grin. He had never defeated his father in sparring, but it suddenly occurred to him that they were at last on equal ground. His father had never done this before either – maybe, just maybe, he could beat him at least once. With firm purpose, he began his warm up.
They started the lesson and were some way into it when Lothiriel and Dariel turned up to watch. Elfwine saw them coming and called for a break. As they leaned on the fence, Lothiriel inquired, "How goes it, my loves?"
"It is more difficult than I would have expected," Eomer admitted, wiping the sweat from his brow. "But we will get it. Give us time." He turned to grin at Elfwine, who had seemed to be getting into the spirit of things, but now wore a sulky expression.
"Must we have an audience?" he questioned, not concealing his pointed glance at Dariel.
The girl stiffened and gently Lothiriel laid a hand on her arm. "Must you be so rude?" his mother reproved. "If you wish us to leave, you could find a politer way to ask."
Elfwine flushed red, and dropped his head. At last he told them, "Forgive me. I did not mean to be rude. But I would prefer not to have an audience as we spar."
"Very well. You are forgiven, and we will honor your request." Catching Dariel's arm, they turned and headed back up the hill.
Quietly, Eomer told him, "Do not turn away those who wish to cheer your recovery, son. There are many who care about you and want to see you succeed."
"I do not want anyone standing around feeling sorry for me," he declared curtly.
"Wishing to be supportive is not the same thing as pity," Eomer replied. "You need to learn the difference." He moved back into position and added, "Let us get back to work. I can only stay a short while longer and then I must be about my duties."
xxxxx
At the midday meal, the entire family was gathered together, and enjoying the rare opportunity to be so during the course of the day. Too often their various activities pulled one or more away and it was often only at breakfast or supper that they managed to share one another's company.
Eomer flexed his shoulders and arms, and Lothiriel cast a glance at him. "Is something amiss, beloved?"
"I am stiffening somewhat. I did not realize how strenuous it would be simply to fight with my left hand. I think I may be sore tomorrow."
"I have some salve that may help. I will put it on you after our meal," she told him, with a hint of amusement.
He mock-glared at her. "Do not say it!" When she widened her eyes innocently at him, he laughed. "Oh no, do not pretend you know not of what I speak! You were going to make a remark about my age being part of the problem!"
With a smirk, she replied, "Nonsense, beloved! Why would I say such a thing...when I can goad you into saying it for me?"
He burst out laughing and the older children joined in. The younger ones just looked curiously at these chortling adults and then returned their attention to the meal.
When they finished eating, the children quickly disappeared in different directions, and the remaining four rose. "I will get the salve, beloved. Come with me," Lothiriel directed, and Eomer followed her toward their bedchamber.
That left Elfwine and Dariel, but before Elfwine could excuse himself, Dariel tentatively offered, "If you are sore also, I would be happy to rub some salve on for you."
Elfwine blushed, but bit back the retort that sprang to his lips. His father's words earlier returned to him, and he forced himself to believe this was merely a kind gesture and did not involve pity. Hoarsely he answered, "Thank you. I would appreciate that." Then pushing himself harder, he smiled slightly and added, "But do not tell my father I allowed it. Let him think his soreness is due to age!" He was rewarded for his effort with a bright smile from Dariel, and she joined his laughter.
The salve was obtained and applied, though Dariel reflected that she and Elfwine had never blushed or been so awkward with each other since she had first come to Rohan. Still, that he would allow her to help him seemed a good sign, and she hoped it meant he was beginning to realize how much she cared for him.
xxxxx
Several days later, the first gathering took place since they had returned home. The people of Rohan never hesitated to find an occasion for celebration, and they took the King and Elfwine's return as sufficient cause.
Elfwine had been tense ever since it was announced and seemed to be retreating back into himself. Even though the kitchen staff knew to always make sure anything that needed cutting was already prepared before it was delivered to him, he balked at the idea of eating in front of the gathered townspeople. Lothiriel decided not to push him on that, but at least got him to agree to put in appearance after the meal had ended.
The night of the feast, there were many curious glances toward the head table, and no doubt people were noting Elfwine's absence. At length the meal ended, and the tables pushed back for dancing and drinking, both of which began in earnest.
Within an hour, Lothiriel and Dariel, who were strolling about the hall greeting guests, became painfully aware of a loud conversation at one of the tables. Two men who were new to Edoras were quite drunk and were raucously making jokes about having only one hand.
Lothiriel and Dariel turned, almost in unison, and made their way to the table. Several of the men looked up and flinched, and the two who had been making the jokes and sarcastic remarks turned to see who was behind them. "You are no longer welcome in the Golden Hall, gentlemen. Please leave at once," Lothiriel snapped, her eyes flashing. Gamling was moving closer, sensing trouble was coming.
Apparently the men were either too drunk or too stupid to appreciate their situation, as the more vocal one lumbered to his feet and wheezed, "Now, now, little lady, we was just havin' a bit of fun! Don' you have a sense of humor?"
Both Lothiriel and Dariel stood with their arms crossed and glaring at the men, but at his question, most in the vicinity tensed. In a dangerously low voice, Lothiriel replied, "I will have Gamling show you the extent of my sense of humor where my son is concerned!" She nodded to the Doorward, who quickly stepped forward and grabbed the man by his collar. He then unceremoniously dragged him the length of the hall and out the front doors.
Lothiriel turned her eyes on the other man and said, "Can you find your own way out, or would you like Gamling to return and explain my sense of humor to you as well?" Hastily the man scrambled for the door, tripping a few times in his hurry.
Before she could turn away, one of the other men sitting at the table, who had been their audience, rose and said, "My lady, please know that we did not care for the things they were saying, but we hesitated to start trouble here in the hall."
With a thin smile, she replied, "I appreciate that you did not agree with them, but I should much rather have you let them know and risk trouble than seem to agree with them by your silence." The man nodded, chastened, and retook his seat.
Lothiriel turned, caught Dariel's arm and returned to their places at the head table. Once they were seated, Dariel leaned questioningly toward her. "Why did the king do nothing?"
The queen whispered back, "What the king does is a matter of state and he has to act with prudence. I, on the other hand, can speak more freely, and act with more latitude. He knew I would not tolerate it or deal with it lightly. Besides, it is far more humiliating to be tossed out on your ear by a woman!"
Dariel nodded in understanding, amazed at the things she was learning about being royal. Now that she thought about it, sometimes her mother did similar things while her father seemingly sat back and watched. It had never occurred to her that he was letting her mother act in a way that he could not diplomatically employ.
With a sigh, Dariel glanced toward the doors leading to the sleeping quarters. She leaned near Lothiriel again. "Do you think he will come, now the meal is ended? I miss dancing with him..."
Lothiriel sighed. "I do not know. If he does not come soon, I will go and attempt to persuade him."
To their surprise, Elfwine did put in appearance less than a quarter hour later. The dancing and singing was in full swing as he slipped into the hall. Lothiriel could tell the tight rein he had on his emotions and his countenance as he moved toward them. Quietly he took a seat to his mother's right, and surveyed the room in silence, his face stony.
Taking a deep breath, Dariel rose and stepped to face him. "My lord, I realize this is a bit inappropriate on my part, but I should very much like to dance with you, if you would be so inclined." She looked at Elfwine hopefully, until he averted his eyes. Lothiriel reached a hand over and laid it gently on his arm.
Unnoticed, Eomer had come up behind them and now leaned down to his son. "You do not need your hands to dance, Elfwine. And, personally, I would never refuse the opportunity to dance with a beautiful woman...even if she is from Gondor."
Against his will, Elfwine's face cracked slightly at his father's jest. Nervously he rose and extended his left arm to Dariel, leading her to the floor. Many eyes followed them, but Dariel kept her attention focused on him, and did her best to keep him distracted from everyone else. She flashed him her most dazzling smile and whispered, "I am pleased you will dance with me, Elfwine. You are my favorite partner."
Even after all these years of knowing one another, he still blushed slightly at her remark and stepped into closer quarters. The dance began and for a time they were lost to all but each other, but then the dance movements required them to separate and move by holding hands. Without thinking, Elfwine automatically raised his right arm, and then sucked in his breath forcefully as he realized what was happening. But Dariel reached over and gently seized his wrist, giving it a slight squeeze and then a tug to keep him moving. A moment later the awkwardness had passed and they continued on, Elfwine finally beginning to relax and enjoy it.
Eomer gripped his wife's shoulder as they watched Dariel gazing lovingly up into their son's eyes throughout the dance. When Elfwine offered his arm for them to return to their seats, Dariel reached for his hand instead and clasped it in her own. Pulling on it gently, she got him to follow her from the hall on the far side. A moment later, they were walking in Lothiriel's garden in the moonlight.
Dariel was not used to acting in such a forward manner and suddenly shyness overtook her. Quietly she told him, "Thank you for dancing with me Elfwine." She went to release his hand and take a seat on a bench, but he tightened his grip and sat with her.
She watched him curiously, but he became lost in thought and almost seemed to forget she was there. Still, he did not release her hand, and she considered that a positive development. Tentatively, she laid her head against his shoulder, and a moment later, he released her hand to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer.
They sat for what seemed a very long time and then Elfwine ventured, "Dariel, I am...I am sorry I have been so cold to you." He stopped, struggling for control, then tried to continue, "I did not mean to hurt you..."
Feeling a surge of confidence once more, Dariel raised her head and turned to face him. "I have missed dancing with you, Elfwine, but even more than that, I have missed your kisses," she murmured. She dared look to his eyes and was rewarded with the flash of passion there. An instant later, he closed the distance between them and their lips met. The kiss increased in fervency as it progressed, until at last they broke apart breathless.
Dariel could not stay the flow of tears, and when Elfwine's expression became one of concern, she whispered, "Do not worry. They are only tears of joy." She wiped at her face and then boldly looked at him and confessed, "I love you Elfwine. I have for a long time."
But he did not react as she had hoped. His countenance became tortured and he abruptly stood, moving away from her. Pain stabbed at her heart, and fear that she was mistaken in the extent of his regard for her. Rising quickly, she stammered, "I...I am sorry. I thought you felt the same." With that she bolted back inside and too late he turned to attempt an explanation of his behavior.
Replies to Reviewers:
tsuri - if it helps, my titles usually always have some sort of slight meaning to them, if only to describe the story somewhat; 'Lost and Found' seemed to be a sort of yin and yang title for this one. Bad balanced by good.
Blue Eyes At Night - "You know tears have salt in them...le sigh Lothiriel's gonna have to have that dress dry-cleaned" - not to worry! The royal drycleaners have assured her they can fix it.
BlueEyedElf - Thanks for the kind words. Eomer gets to be strong too (see above and more later), but I think a woman is better able to help someone through the emotional trauma of things. We just seemed to be wired that way. Men can be tender, some more than others, but they just aren't raised to do the things women do.
lady scribe of avandell, Jazzcat, shie1dmaidenofrohan - yeah, I'm liking Theodwyn, too, now that I've fleshed her out. Up til now she's been nothing more than a plot device (even in Second Thoughts, she only got a mention as 'visiting her aunt and uncle for the summer'). In fact, I'm liking her enough that I've come up with a story about her. If I finish it, it will probably stay in the Elfwine Chronicles series, and I don't know that I will do many stories focusing solely on her, but now that I've established her character, when I write more of the "younger" chronicles, I can toss in how she became the girl that she is here. (And, no, she doesn't have a suicidal streak. Unlike her aunt, she has had a wonderful, loving childhood. Which isn't to say she won't still manage some mischief with that independent streak of hers...)
shie1dmaidenofrohan - "Do you have to go to HP? Can't you just stay in Rohan?" - Actually, if you enjoy my writing, you owe a HUGE debt to Harry Potter! The only reason I'm in Rohan at all is that I ran out of HP stuff to read (I finished the books the first time through) and went online looking for fan fiction. One author of an HP story wanted a beta and since she was an excellent writer, I offered to do it. She also was into LOTR and so I read her LOTR stories, and we chatted about it and I FINALLY sat down and watched the first two movies (bought them cheap figuring I'd probably like them, but hadn't watched them since purchase - this was back in Sep/Oct 2004, so you know how late I was coming to this). Then I went nuts at the end of TT not knowing what happened next, so I ran out and rented ROTK (I ordered it online but couldn't wait for it to arrive). So that is how I became a LOTR fan - and authoress! All because I went looking for HP fan fiction online!
Julia - "Well, there are plenty of people in ME who are not relatives, so none of the kids should have trouble finding someone to love and marry." - plenty of "people" yes, but not plenty of royalty, unless we assume there are other royal kingdoms that will become friendly enough to Gondor and Rohan that intermarriage takes place. If the royal kids want to or are expected to marry royalty, their pickings are very slim indeed! 'Course that probably thrills all the nobles who have children they hope to see marry into the royal family...
Elwen of Lorien - amazing how many people can relate to Elfwine's predicament in some way! My cousin had an experience similar to yours, having a broken arm, though not cast to her shoulder. She had to learn to write left-handed too since school waits for no one to heal!