Thank you all for your kind reviews! I was so anxious to get this chapter up, for the next will be quite a lot of fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and a happy summer to you all, I hope it is filled with heat, the beach, cool drinks, and family – oh yeah, happiness too. :)
quizabella: Thank you! You picked up with Lothíriel handling Aefentid easily, I thought I hid it well, lol. Well, you should like this chapter, then. In addition, yes, I loved those lines about horses/babies too. Men can be such idiots at times!
neatard: Thank you!
shie1dmaidenofrohan: Yay, school is out! Well, for me it is, I hope it is for you too. Now you can read my story all you want, lol. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it as much as the last.
Princess of Ithilien: Wording is tricky! I want to fix them, but I have no idea how to reword the wordings that I jumbled up. I try my best, though. Thank you, and I hope you like this chapter.
LadyArian: Thank you, I'm glad my view of Lothíriel has caught your fancy.
merrymagic: I'm glad you liked the story, I was anxious to see how people took to it. I'm experiencing anxiety for this chapter too, so I hope you like it.
steelelf: Nope, you hadn't reviewed before. Thanks for reviewing. I am hurrying as much as I can, though it is terribly slow. Recent events (i.e. family reunions, graduations, etc.) have helped delay this – not mentioning I am a perfectionist and say "Just one more read-through" and 1 turns to 5, lol. Glad you like it, and here is the next.
-Mystikal(19)
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The soft tapping outside their door awakened Éomer immediately from his light sleep. He made a move to get up, but when he turned on his side, he found that one of Lothíriel's arms had moved onto his chest, her dark curls haloing her face. She was dressed in a nearly sheer fabric of blue, the same thing she wore on their wedding night. It was the first time Éomer had seen her asleep.
His breath caught in his throat at the innocence of his wife. Her luscious lips parted slightly as she breathed, and her skin glowed in the faint light of dawn's arrival. The anxiety was gone from her brows and she looked so peaceful though they were touching, for even if she was asleep the contact was still there. Lothíriel must have been exhausted, for as the tapping continued, she slept on, her face in a contentment that increased Éomer's fine mood.
The tapping had stopped and Éomer tried to stand without waking her and he was triumphant. After pulling a cloak , he walked to the door and opened it faintly, only enough to see a maid outside, looking tired and exhausted, but a smile was upon her lips. Realizing why this woman was there, Éomer smiled as well.
"My lord Éothain and lady Forleaswyn wish me to bring you this news: A son has been born," the woman said, her wrinkled face creased into a smile. Éomer beamed at this news.
"How fares Forleaswyn?" he asked instantaneously. The woman continued to smile, nodded and clasping her hands to her hips happily.
"She is wonderful, milord."
"Have they decided upon a name?" asked he.
"Yes milord. It is to be Théodric."
Éomer smiled. It was a fine name, and he was sure the boy would bring honor upon his family when he was older, or perhaps even when he was a mere child. "Is the midwife accepting visitors?"
"Yes, the birth finished an hour earlier, and Éowyn told me not to get my lord and lady ere the sun rose."
"Inform the couple that I will be joining them momentarily," Éomer said, pausing for the woman to acknowledge his words and then shutting the door softly. He turned to dress, but saw his wife sitting up in bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes, a smile prominent on her features. He spoke, "Did you hear…?"
She nodded. "Aye." After a hush, Lothíriel pushed the heavy blankets off her body, pulling the gauzy sleeping clothes into place and stood. "I will join you to see the new babe and his family."
They dressed hurriedly in plain clothing, and took little time in fussing over appearances. They were out of the door and walking down the hallways to the birth room in few moments. Lothíriel was holding Éomer's arm as she hurried, her hair still messed from sleeping, and who knew if she had all the strings tied correctly on her gown for she had had no handmaid help her into the contraption she chose to wear.
The King and Queen of Rohan entered the birth room shortly after, meeting a dozing Forleaswyn in her bed, a frantic midwife bustling about the room though everything was completed, and Éowyn joined by Éothain seated beside the bed. Forleaswyn looked up, seeing Éomer she sat straighter, her belly gone and although she was not as petite as before the pregnancy, she was clearly smaller. In her arms lay a bundle of blankets, and inside the bundle of blankets lay a child.
"Ah, Éomer," Éothain said as he sat up and strode to shorten the distance between the two friends. The men clasped hands and Éomer smiled to the ecstatic new papa, whose eyes were large and bright.
"Congratulations, Éothain, Forleaswyn," Éomer said as he looked to the new mother. She smiled; her hair was damp with sweat across her brow. Lothíriel stood beside her husband.
"Come see him," Forleaswyn said as she leaned forward and held the babe out so they all could see.
The babe was the sweetest thing that anyone had seen for a very long time. He looked the spitting image of his father. Loose golden curls covered his head adorably, amber eyes touched with blue blinked ere they closed to sleep once more. His skin color, however, was the same as Forleaswyn's complexion, being slightly lighter than Éothain, nevertheless was sun-kissed. He was not a small child, but not enormous either, plump from health.
"Would you like to hold him?" Forleaswyn asked to Lothíriel. Lothíriel nodded, accepting the babe and holding him delicately, and marveling at how much he looked like his parents.
Théodric's eyes opened as he felt a new person holding him, but he did not cry when he saw Lothíriel. His mouth opened a tiny bit, a little drool escaped, but Lothíriel wiped it aside with the blanket and merely giggled. The tiny babe was adorable, and he was everything any parent would ask for.
Lothíriel could feel Éomer beside her, and he asked to hold little Théodric. Lothíriel nodded, handed over the child, and marveled out how gentle Éomer held the child in his massive war-hardened hands. The King held the child, his light brown eyes peering down at Théodric with a look so tender and kind that it nearly stole Lothíriel's breath away.
The hardened warrior – it seemed to Lothíriel – was not an affectionate man but this moment proved her wrong. His arms were delicately holding the precious life of a tiny innocent child while his eyes were twinkling in delight for the new parents. He was speaking low to the child of things none in the room could hear, and he was fighting back a smile as he finished his words. Éomer took hold of one of the tiny hands, fat with infancy, and his face broke out in a dashing smile as he held it, and the babe long before had fallen asleep.
"Look at this grip, brother," Éomer said to Éothain, his smile broadened and Lothíriel felt her heart beat faster at how striking he appeared and yet so approachable. "He will be a fine Rider of Rohan when he turns the appropriate age."
Éothain laughed, "I shall have him riding ere he walks, and perhaps he can even join the éored sooner than you in age. What say you Forleaswyn?"
The young mother leaned back against the bed and shook her head mirthfully. "Who can say, my love? Perhaps he shall."
Lothíriel was deaf to the world, however, for all she could hear and see was the man who she had wed. She had never seen him as careful then as he stood there with the child in his arms, marveling at the greatness that this child could bring. Who could have known that the warrior-King could become so caring for a child? Could he be this caring for his wife? Lothíriel prayed it was so.
"Théodric is the perfect blend of you both," Éowyn said as she took the child from her brother's arms and held him tenderly. She smiled. "It makes me wish to have a child myself." Éomer snorted ungentlemanly, breaking the ethereal greatness Lothíriel had seen illuminating from him unceremoniously.
"Why do you laugh, brother?" Éowyn demanded her eyes critical.
"If you had a son he would be of sharp tongue and little whit, and if it a daughter she would thunder through the halls of your home wildly throughout her life, scaring off noblemen and womenfolk alike." Éowyn scowled as Éomer and Éothain both laughed.
"If I had not this child in my arms, brother, I would do more than 'scare you'," she snapped.
"And that is why Théodric is my favorite babe, sister," Éomer said as he crossed his arms in front and beamed. Éowyn shook her head.
"I will not hold this child my entire life, remember, so you should watch your words."
Éowyn handed Éothain his son, and the young man looked down upon the boy in his arms with an impudent grin, his eyes shining with pride. The child in his arms relaxed whenhe recognized the touch of the man who had been present of his birth though untraditionally. Éothain had never been prouder of anything in the world, and this statement was on his face, his smile broad as he looked to his wife with loving eyes and then down upon his joy, the boy he and his wife's love had created. He looked up to the group about him.
"Remember when we were younger, Éomer? I pray my son does not do all of the ignorant things we had done," Éothain laughed.
It was then that the midwife ordered them all out of the room save the father of the babe, so the mother could receive proper rest. They all acquiesced, Éomer leaving to speak with Elfhelm of something, leaving Éowyn and Lothíriel alone. Lothíriel turned to Éowyn as they began to walk, looking at the young woman as she pondered whether she should speak of what she was thinking. All she could see was the handsome face of her husband as he stood with his arms about the tiny bundle of a child, his eyes merrily glowing as he bantered with Éothain and whispered words to Théodric. She had never seen that man, and she hoped with her whole heart that he would return, if only to treat her as well. Lothíriel knew that to find that man, she had to do something that would bring him happiness, and she knew exactly what that task would be.
Lothíriel linked arms with Éowyn as they were walking, and she exchanged a devious grin with the young woman, her eyes twinkling with the thought that all could be well in merely a week if her plan followed through. She could bring peace under the marriage that they had agreed to, and with all her heart, that was all Lothíriel wanted. She wanted herself to be happy, moreover Éomer to be happy as well.
"What is that smile for?" Éowyn asked with a wicked giggled, knowing very well the look that caught in Lothíriel's eyes for it had played in her own many times.
"I have a plan," Lothíriel admitted. Éowyn smiled.
"For what?" she asked.
"Catching your brother's eye, and providing happiness evermore." Éowyn's eyebrows rose. Such things sounded perfect, but could it be?
"And the plan is…?"
"I want to learn to ride horses. Moreover, I wish to learn to ride Aefentid for if I ride her, Éomer will surely keep her," Lothíriel said, proud of her idea. Éowyn, however, looked doubtful.
"Aefentid is a green mare, she is stubborn, and Éomer bought her for him to ride. He is an amazing rider, Lothíriel, Aefentid is not an easy horse to handle," Éowyn informed. Her words, however, did not daze the steadfast Lothíriel from dismissing her idea.
"If I could only try, Éowyn… If Éomer bought Aefentid, she is obviously not savage! She will not kill me," Lothíriel said impishly. Surely, Éowyn would agree! Why would she not? Lothíriel felt anger rise in her throat, one of the few friends she made would not support her genius idea!
"I thought you were afraid of horses, Lothíriel. What made you change your mind?" Éowyn asked, truly stunned that the woman that stood so far away from everything was ready to dive in and try to do something that could prove to be dangerous – especially to ride a horse green with knowledge.
"I wish to do whatever I can to make happiness. Is that not the role of a wife?"
Éowyn could not help but laugh.
"Lothíriel, the role of a wife is to love and be loved."
"That is why I need to learn to ride! If I do, Éomer will love me."
"He will if you would speak to him like you speak to me," Éowyn pointed out. Lothíriel's face fell.
"It would be easier to learn to ride then to speak with him for me, Éowyn. Please, if you teach me, happiness will be the future. It would be such a great experience, I think. I want to conquer my fears of horses, for with them, I feel that I will conquer my fear of Éomer." Lothíriel was desperate. If Éowyn would not help her, who could she turn to?
Sighing, Éowyn nodded. "Fine. If this is what you wish for, I will help you."
Lothíriel squealed and threw her arms around Éowyn. "Oh thank you! Thank you!"
Éowyn could not help to smile and think, Let us hope you still thank me when you fall for the first time.
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"Elfhelm!"
The elder man turned, looking for who had called his name. It was none other than Éomer, looking rather pleased with himself for a reason that Elfhelm would bet would do with his beautiful wife. Elfhelm smiled at the young boy who he had guided through his first years as a part of the Eastfold's éored. The boy had grown into a valiant young man, Elfhelm deemed, every bit as loyal to his people as his country. He would make to be a fine king.
"Aye, my King?" Elfhelm asked. Éomer cringed at the words though he did not speak of it as they were under the eyes of the savage court for though it was more lenient than Gondor, a court was a court.
"I have a favor to ask of you," Éomer said as they began to walk. Elfhelm nodded.
"I will do it if it is in my power."
"I thank you," Éomer said. Elfhelm nodded. "Come walk with me, I wish to show you something."
They walked for several minutes until they were outside, Éomer looking intently upon an open piece of land that lay some yards off the western side of the Golden Hall. It was a flat piece of land, treeless, though the grass was glowing golden from the sun. The land stretched for a few yards, and it was elevated slightly on the same bluff that Meduseld sat upon overlooking the land of Rohan. Éomer looked proud as his eyes gazed over the land, though Elfhelm was dubious of what he had to be proud of by a bit of golden grass blades.
"May I ask, Éomer, of what you are looking at?" Elfhelm finally voiced. Éomer laughed, nodding.
"Of course. That land is empty, and ownerless, correct?"
"Aye."
"Then I would own it, correct?" Éomer persisted.
"It appears to be so," Elfhelm affirmed. He turned to Éomer. "But why do you care so of this piece of land? What more does Meduseld need?"
"You know my wife draws, Elfhelm, correct?" The elder warrior nodded. "I want to give her a room to sit in when she awakes, with an open window so she can look over the lands of her people and draw until she is content. I have been through each room in Meduseld and no window is large enough to see out properly enough to draw what you see, and I do not want her sitting outside in the winter snow just to draw, so I need you to help me build her a room to draw inside. What do you think, my friend?"
"I think you are crazy, Éomer," Elfhelm said, his beard twitching into a smile. "But I shall help you. How do you plan for the layout to be?"
Éomer pulled a parchment from his cloak and unrolled it, revealing a crudely drawn blueprint for the room. It had four straight walls with large cut-outs that could open to make a window, but close when not used. There were drawings to include a fireplace and a door leading outside on the far north side. It was a small room, but it would do and prove to be enough work.
"Your wife needs to teach you to draw," Elfhelm noted as he looked upon the crooked lines and horrible box that represented a fireplace. Éomer chuckled.
"Perhaps she will when I have this built."
"Perhaps you should show her these plans to make sure she even wants it." Elfhelm looked to the plans once more. To be honest, it looked as if she would love it, but one could never be sure with women.
"I want it to be a surprise," Éomer said, though this spoken thought proved to bring him anxiousness. Maybe she really would hate it! What would he do then?
"And it shall be a surprise then, my King. Mark my words; we will make her love this."
Elfhelm clapped his dearest pupil on the shoulder, smiling at the wonderful man he had made to be. Éomer was the closest thing to a son that Elfhelm had ever had, for though he was married, his wife had never been able to conceive a child.
Éomer smiled, looking to the barren piece of land, imagining the wonderful sight of the walls standing tall and straight, the windows perfect. And his wife? She would be ecstatic when she saw the new building; she would fling her arms around his neck and give him kisses like she had on their wedding night. He rubbed his hands together, barely containing the anticipation welling inside his chest.
"When do we begin?" Elfhelm asked.
"What do you say of tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is a fine day to begin, Éomer."
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It was evening, and the couple was getting ready to go to sleep after they had visited Forleaswyn, Éothain, and Théodric and said goodnight. The little child was sleeping peacefully, an angel in his mother's arm who was in fine condition. Éothain was exhausted, more than his wife it appeared, for he had circles underneath his eyes though his smile had never been broader.
"What are your plans of the morrow, Lothíriel?" Éomer asked, praying she had something to do so he could escape to begin the building. Lothíriel had prayed he would not ask this question, for what should she say?
"I am spending it with Éowyn," Lothíriel said, leaving off the part that she was going to ride Aefentid for fear he would object, and a subconscious want that he would be surprised and pleased when she showed him.
"Again?" Éomer was surprised that the two women were such good friends when they were as different as night and day.
"Yes…" Lothíriel said slowly, "is there anything I have forgotten?"
"No!" Éomer grit his teeth as he realized his panic over what Lothíriel would think to be nothing. She looked at him oddly. He thought quickly to cover the false tale. "I am meeting with Elfhelm, to speak of the conditions of the Eastfold."
"Should I not come?"
"No…it is only a small matter and I do not want to anger Éowyn for canceling your arrangements."
Lothíriel nodded, vaguely anxious over the fact he did not want her present at his councils. Was he embarrassed to have her as a wife? She was very diplomatic – or her father said she was – and she liked to explore the art of international relations. Was Rohan more different than she had anticipated and did not share Dol Amroth in women's rights? Lothíriel did not think it was so, for after Éowyn defeated the Witch King, why would Rohan shun her women?
After she finished dressing in her night garb, Lothíriel slid inside the covers, her husband already there and by the looks of it, he was nearly asleep. Lothíriel blew out the candles that were still lit beside the bed, and in pitch darkness, she tried to speak with him, thinking without those intense eyes bearing into her she would be less timid.
"Good night, Éomer," she said, her little voice echoing in the quiet.
"Good night, Lothíriel," Éomer's voice was booming, seemingly two times louder, and stronger. So maybe she was wrong about her predictions. But in a few days, he would be so overjoyed that she learned to ride for him, he would be so approachable and so would she…
Lothíriel sighed into her pillow. If only reality was like her fantasies for her world would be like no other. She would try, nevertheless, to fulfill her wildest dreams.
