The dim light of the large hall in the Houses of Healing made it difficult for me to see anything but the chaos, which ruled in there. Hundreds of wounded were lying on cots, on the floor and were set up against the walls and it took a while before my eyes adjusted.
In my ears rang the unworldly wail that I had heard as I ran across the field to my sister's lifeless body … and which I did not recognise as my own voice. Nooo, Éowyn, noooo ---- I had walked as if in a trance until Aragorn shook me out of it. "Éomer, wake up ---- she is not dead!" he had said, slapping me into consciousness, "she is being taken care of."
They had carried her to the Houses of Healing, Éothain had told me – just as he had reminded me of my obligations towards the men – towards my people. I was now their commander – their king - I could not be selfish now – there were so many dead and wounded, some maimed for life. I found the strength to see to them first and when this task was done, I could again think of my sister.
I hurried to the Houses of Healing and into the large hall. I asked somebody – a warden it seemed – the whereabouts of the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. He looked at me without comprehending and then pointed me to the far end of the hall. "All wounded from Rohan have been placed there, my Lord," he said.
I looked around me; there were so many – the stench of blood reached my nose, and the screaming of the dying filled the air. It was nauseating, and I realised how it must be for those who worked there. I worked my way among the many wounded, searching intensely to find my sister. I recognised some of my men, and I took my time to ascertain their condition – after all I was now all Rohan had; its king no less. I inhaled sharply, having just risen from the body of a man I had known most of my life; I got there in time to close his eyes. And then I caught sight of a well-known figure: Éowyn.
She was lying on a simple cot in an alcove and a young woman was tending to her, washing the blood and dirt of her face and removing her armour. Through the cries and moaning of the wounded, I heard her voice clear as a bell. "Is it customary in Rohan to send women into battle?" she asked a young rider, who was leaning against the wall, cradling a wounded arm, and I heard him reply. "No, my Lady. Nobody knew that the lady Éowyn had followed the men into battle."
I approached the alcove and knelt silently by my sister's side. She looked pale, and her brow was glinsing with sweat. "Is – is she alive?" My voice sounded strange to me, husky and coarse, and I felt parched, as if I had had nothing to drink for several days. Without looking up, she replied. "Barely, but I am not really a healer – I will fetch one as soon as I have finished here."
Her voice was determined, but at this point I had no qualms about pleading or commanding. "Please, could you find one – now! She is my sister ---- and she is all that I have left in this world. I cannot lose her ….." I heard my voice trailing off.
The young woman looked up at me. Long lashed, almond shaped eyes, blue as the sky – and green as the sea … looked at me, inquisitively, taking me in. "I shall see what I can do," she said and then got up and disappeared quickly down the corridor.
I took Éowyn's lifeless right hand in mine. The left – her shield arm was maimed and lay limp against her chest. I looked into her face. Éowyn, why did you do it? Did you want to challenge me because of what I said to you …. That war is the province of men? Or was it something else? Did you want to win the honour and renown in battle? Were you not satisfied being what you were? A woman? A shield maiden?
The thoughts and questions swirled around in my head as I was watching my sister's face. She was looking so serene as she was lying there and I knew that I would readily have given my life to spare her this. I bowed my head; the tears ran freely down my cheeks, but I did not care. I had lost so much and if I were to lose Éowyn, too then …... I did not finish the thought because I was interrupted by the arrival of an elderly female healer and the young woman.
The healer examined my sister and shook her head. "I can heal her maimed arm, but this fever – it is like lord Faramir. He also just lies pale and unconscious --- I do not understand it. Nothing we do seem to help." She found splinters and applied them to my sister's arm. Then she told the young woman to fetch water and cloths and apply cold compresses to my sister's forehead to keep the fever down.
By now it was evening, oil lamps and candles were being lit and cast a muffled light on everything and everybody in the room, even giving an impression of calm and peace. The young woman had done as she had been told and was now busy seeing to somebody else. When I looked up from time to time, as I sat by my sister's bed, I found that my eyes sought the young woman, who was like nobody I had ever encountered. She was modestly dressed in a sombre outfit with an apron that had once been white but was now dirty and stained – mostly by blood. Her dark hair was braided and covered by a scarf, but her demeanour and voice intrigued me.
She was beautiful – at least I thought her so, not ethereal like the elves but with fine features. She was as tall as my sister, barely reaching my chin, and although she was slender, she looked strong, not delicate. Her face, as she was tending to one of my young riders, was serene and with mild features – an indistinctive nose with freckles spread across it and a finely chiselled mouth. She looked like somebody, who enjoyed being outdoors, riding and walking and who laughed easily. I got the feeling that I would very much like to know her better.
She came up to me. "Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?" I shook my head – I did not feel hungry. "Perhaps some fresh water," I croaked. I remembered that I had had nothing to drink or eat for that matter since ---- this morning shortly before we arrived at the Pelennor Fields.
She nodded and brought me some bread, cheese and a large tankard of fresh, cool water and I drained it in one draught. She stood looking at me with those thoughtful and beautiful eyes. I gave her back the tankard and tanked her, my attention turning back to my sister.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Éomer," a well-known voice said softly. Aragorn! I had heard him say that he would not be entering the city before time, but apparently he had not been able to stay away. Gandalf had told me of his healing skills, and I had experienced them for myself after the Battle at Helm's Deep. Certainly there was need for those in this place as well.
I looked up into my friend's grey-blue, calm eyes. "Aragorn, I did not know …………..; if I had, I would stopped her. Can you help her?" Aragorn nodded. "I can try, Éomer."
He placed his hand on my sister's brow, softly speaking words that I did not understand. I had some knowledge of Elvish, my grandmother had been fluent in the language and she had taught her children. Our mother had taught me, until she died – but she had died too soon to give the same knowledge to Éowyn. It must have been an ancient form, because it was not the Sindarin that I had learned.
Gandalf was there, too, looking at us with his mild, wise eyes. Aragorn stopped in his endeavours and looked up at the healer, Ioreth, and the young woman. "Do you know whether Athelas is to be found in the houses?" he asked. The old woman shook her head, but the young woman said. "I do, my Lord. Just the other day I saw a jar with dried leaves in one of the storage rooms. I will get it for you."
She disappeared and came back a little while later carrying a small, brown jar. Aragorn crushed some of the contents into a bowl of steaming hot water and a soothing, refreshing fragrance filled the air. After a little while, Aragorn felt my sister's brow again. "Her fever seems to have gone – but I cannot call her to me; you try Éomer – you she knows and loves."
I shook my head; I did not feel convinced. "I wish it were so," I said and called her name. "Éowyn, wake up – cast off this shadow. Do not leave me." I squeezed her hand and suddenly I felt her squeeze back. She opened her eyes and looked at me. "Éomer," she said hesitantly, "uncle --- is dead; the black shadow ….. has gone."
I crushed her in my arms, sobbing. I did not care who was looking at me; I had nearly lost the last thing in this world that meant anything to me, and the tears flowed freely down my cheeks again.
Aragorn looked at us both with his wise and calm eyes. "Éomer," he said, "I must go: there are other people that need my help – take your time with your sister, but I need you in the King's Hall at daybreak. We must discuss what our further strategy should be."
I nodded silently; I knew. We still had to overcome the darkness – we had won the day, but not the war. "I will be there," I said hoarsely.
I sat by my sister's cot until daylight broke outside the window. She was sleeping, but this sleep was a healthy sleep and I was confident that she would soon be better. I rose and stretched. I had to meet with Gandalf, Aragorn and the others in a little while, but I did not want to leave my sister unattended.
The young woman from last night came through the door. Obviously she had not had any sleep either. "Mistress," I said, "I am needed at a council, would you look after my sister until I get back? I do not like leaving her here unattended."
She looked at me with a small smile; I had the feeling that I was being scrutinised by those calm, sea blue – green? - eyes. "Of course," she said – and again I had the feeling that she was somebody that I would like to know more about.
---0000---
After the debate in the hall of the king, where we had decided on setting bait for Sauron, luring him out of his land to give the Ringbearer time to fulfil his quest, I accompanied Imrahil, the prince of Dol Amroth to the Houses of Healing. I knew that two of his sons had also taken part in the battle and I asked him whether any of them had been injured.
"No, luckily only minor scratches, but my daughter – my youngest – is helping out in the houses, and I have not seen her for several days," he said smilingly.
When we opened the door to the room whereto my sister apparently had been moved, the young woman was feeding my sister some broth. She looked up as the door opened and when she saw Imrahil, she got up and ran to him, flinging her arms around his neck.
"Ada, thank the Valar that you are well! How are Amrothos and Elphir?" she cried.
"They are well, my daughter," Imrahil said, crushing the young woman to him.
Éowyn was sitting up in her bed, leaning against her pillow and watching the spectacle with a little smile on her lips.
The daughter of Imrahil? A princess? And I had ordered her about as a common servant girl. I gasped, and they both turned towards me. Imrahil smiled.
"Oh, I see that you two must already have met. But, Éomer, it seems to me that you have not been properly introduced. This is my youngest, Lothíriel – mostly known as Lothy – and more of a handful that her three brothers put together."
"Really, Ada," Lothíriel said. "One should think that you deliberately wanted to put me in a bad light."
She looked at me with a smile in her eyes, and I could not help smiling back.
Imrahil looked at us. "Lothy," he said, "may I introduce you to lady Éowyn's brother. Éomer, son of Éomund – and the next king of Rohan." Lothíriel curtsied to me. "I am so sorry, my Lord," she said, "I only took you for a soldier."
I found enough voice to say, "but I am a soldier, my Lady, so you were not mistaken."
"Well, Éomer, now that you are back, I think that I shall abduct my daughter; I have not seen her for a long time – and, well you know." I nodded; in two days we were leaving for the Morannon and I, too, wanted to spend time with my sister.
I sat down by Éowyn's bed, rejoicing in the fact that she was already looking better. She told me that the princess Lothíriel was the cousin of the young steward of Gondor – and that she had spoken to lord Faramir earlier because she had wanted to be released. "Released, sister? Are you absolutely insane?" I asked. "Hopefully he told you that it was out of the question!"
"He did, brother," she assured me. Blushingly she gave me a recount of what the young steward had said. He must have made some impression on her! She is usually not one to blush. She had not even blushed when I had caught her kissing a certain young rider in the stables a couple of years ago.
I sat with Éowyn for a while. I told her about the plans of the united armies. She understood, but as I had foreseen she tried to convince me that she should go along. I absolutely refused it, telling her that Rohan would need her, should I fall – and, besides she was not yet in a condition to ride and fight, let alone get out of bed. Having established this, we talked about uncle for a while, but I needed sleep – and some water to wash in – and I therefore left my sister, who by now was so tired that she almost fell asleep before I left her.
I found my quarters, got a much-needed bath and something to eat, and then I fell in a deadly sleep until Éothain woke me up well into the afternoon. I asked him to summon the commanders of the éoreds – those who had survived – and when they arrived, I told them of our plans. All of them just nodded silently; nobody protested. Not that I had expected that, but I was grateful for their loyalty and their trust in me.
I worded as much to Éothain, who had been my best friend since the day I arrived at Edoras to live with my uncle. He looked at me, "And why would they not trust you, Éomer – I apologize, I mean Sire – your men know that you will be the first to enter Mordor and they know that you would readily sacrifice yourself, should it mean that you would save them."
I could not say anything to those words; my words stuck in my throat, but I managed to growl. "If you call me 'Sire' again in private, Éothain, I will personally degrade you!" I needed no distance from my best friends; I would be lonely enough as king.
I had a busy couple of days; debates with Aragorn and the other captains of the West, visits with my sister and those of my men, who were still alive and lying wounded in the houses of healing. On those occasions I met the princess of Dol Amroth, still in her modest and practical clothes and still caring for those, who were wounded and ill. I had the chance to speak with her on several occasions – and she introduced me to her cousin. He was a tall, soft-spoken man with reddish-tinged hair and blue eyes – clearly learned and seemingly gentle, but with the gaze of a warrior, a ranger. I had the feeling that he had been seeing much of my sister already. He was still weak from his wounds, but clearly stubborn enough to be up and about his duties.
I found it very easy to talk with the princess. Usually, I was not too keen on conversing with ladies of the nobility, especially not of Gondor (not that I had had many opportunities to do so over the years). I was not a slick courtier; I usually spoke my mind, and mindless flirting was not in my creed. And these past couple of years I had not had opportunities to speak to any ladies of nobility – Éowyn being the exception, but she did not count; she was my sister.
The last night before we were to leave, I said goodbye to Éowyn. We did not speak much; there was no need, we both knew what was at stake. I hugged her and kissed her forehead and then left. On my way to my quarters I stopped at the battlements looking out over the Pelennor Fields towards Mount Doom – in a few days we would know our fate.
I was thinking of my parents, my uncle --- and my cousin. I remembered my childhood – and I remembered when they brought my father back, mutilated so that he was hardly recognisable. I was far away in dark thoughts when I suddenly felt a hand on my arm and a soft voice said. "You looked so lonely standing here, my Lord." Lothíriel.
"I am sorry; did I interrupt your thoughts?" she asked.
I smiled at her. "Actually you did – but they were much too sombre, so I only welcome the interruption," I said, looking down into her sweet face.
"I have just said goodbye to my father and brothers – and then I saw you standing here, looking so lonely – and I had to come and talk to you."
"I am lonely, 'tis true," I said, "Éowyn is all that I have left – and now I am leaving her. I have just said goodbye to her. I need hope ---- I once told Aragorn that hope had forsaken Rohan; now I feel that hope has forsaken all of Middle Earth. I dare not trust the opposite."
She looked at me and then she stood on her tiptoes, brushing my cheek with a kiss. "Then let me give you hope, Éomer, think of me – and let that give you hope."
I took her hand and laid it against my cheek. "Thank you, princess." I pressed a kiss against the palm of her hand and let her go. She looked at me. "I shall think of you," she whispered.
"I must go now – to my men," I said softly and she nodded. "I will leave you then," she said. "Namarië." And she walked away. I had an urge to run after her, to crush her in my arms and to kiss her – the sweet smell of lavender that she left in her trail, had aroused my senses like nothing had for --- how long? But I remained where I was, staring into the darkness.
Back at my quarters, after having given the last orders to my men, I lay down on the bed – but sleep eluded me. I kept seeing her before me, feeling her hand against my cheek and the soft touch of her lips – and the lavender scent ….
I gazed out into the darkness of the room. Could it happen – just like this? Eight long years it had been since I lost the young woman that I had loved. Fréya. Her sweet face was now only a faded memory, as was the kisses we had shared in our innocent youth.
Truth be known. I had not been innocent at the time I met Fréya; my cousin had introduced me to the world of men and women a couple of years prior to that – but in the innocent love that I felt for Fréya, I had abstained – although I had been sorely tempted. When Fréya had died a year later, I had shut my feelings in – and had gone back to living the life of a bachelor and a soldier, seeking release in women's arms when I could and when I needed it. Whores and bar wenches – but no love. I had shut out the thought and dreams of marriage, a family, children …..
As a nephew of the king, I had been sought after by the lords of Rohan for their daughters, but just as Théodred I had managed to escape their claws. Now Théodred was dead – and I was the king. And a king could not be a bachelor; he needed a queen – and heirs.
Looking into the princess' eyes tonight, I realised, however, that I might – unknowingly – have fallen in love and I realised that it may have been when I saw her for the first time bending over my sister --- before I even realised who she was.
But no ---- I could not think these thoughts; I could be dead within the next week, slain at the hands of an orc …. Hacked to pieces ….. No, now was not the time to think of love and marriage. I had to focus on the task before us. However, if I got back – I decided that I would fight any man for the hand of the princess Lothíriel. And with her picture in my head, I fell asleep – finally.
The next morning we rode out from Minas Tirith. I did not turn as we rode out of the gates; I knew that Éowyn would be standing on the battlements just as she had always stood on the stairs of Meduseld, when I rode out. I wondered briefly whether Lothíriel would be there as well; I hoped that she would.
The hobbit Meriadoc sat behind me on Firefoot. After he had awoken in the Houses of Healing, he had pestered me to get permission to come with us, and never again would I question the courage and the fighting ability of a hobbit, so I granted him his wish. "You would probably find a way anyway," I grunted as he stood before me with a slightly shaky smile on his face, "and I shall take you myself. Perhaps you will be able to assist me as well as you did my sister."
We halted before the Black Gate and the captains of the Army of the West; Aragorn, Gandalf, Imrahil, and I – together with Legolas, Gimli and the hobbits rode up to the gate. Aragorn called out his challenge to the Lord of the Black Lands, asking him to come forth --- but we were only greeted by his servant, who presented us with tokens, which led us to believe that the Ringbearer was dead. Aragorn chopped off the head of this vile creature in his despair and as the Black Gate opened we pulled back to await the hordes of Sauron. While we waited, I suddenly saw the face of Lothíriel before me and I heard her voice: Then let this be your hope. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I met Aragorn's eyes. Aye, let this be the hour that we draw swords together again, Son of Arathorn, I thought and sent him a defiant grin.
The battle was bloody, tough, and dirty. We were vastly outnumbered, but we fought for the light, for the good, and for those we loved --- and we succeeded. Frodo came to our rescue, he fulfilled his quest; at the moment where we seemed in most despair, when the forces of the Dark Lord seemed invincible, suddenly the Black Gate crumpled, the Great Eye succumbed and the forces of Sauron shattered. I stood there together with Aragorn, Gamling and Éothain – I saw Imrahil embrace his sons and I joined in with the others, screaming out my joy and the elation of victory.
We gathered all forces on the field of Cormallen; Aragorn had decided that it should be so. He wanted to linger a while before he entered Minas Tirith to claim the throne of Gondor. I sent a missive to Éowyn asking her to join us but she replied that she would rather stay at Minas Tirith; she did not feel entirely recovered. I had a feeling that this was only an excuse and that the reason was something entirely different.
"My cousin, I should say," the youngest son of Imrahil chuckled, "I would say that he has an eye – or more – for your sister." Amrothos and I had been sharing a couple of bottles of brandy together with Éothain and Gamling, but the two latter had left us murmuring that they would find their bedrolls.
"You think?" I asked him – perhaps a bit slurred as the effects of the good brandy had set in.
Amrothos grinned. "Oh, yes I do – and I also believe that you are enamoured by my little sister, good king Éomer. You have been asking a lot of questions about her these past few days. Not very subtle, Sire."
I was taken a bit by surprise by that remark. True, I had profited from the occasion to ask Amrothos some questions about his little sister, and I had also talked with Imrahil about his daughter, but I had tried to keep my questions neutral. Except for last night where Amrothos and I had shared most of a keg of ale, and the subject of conversation had been women – women that we had known, knew, admired and ---- bedded. For all the outwards stringent Gondorian sense of propriety, the sons of Imrahil certainly had been about – in some instances even worse than Théodred and I. Perhaps I had not been subtle about it; perhaps my questions about Lothíriel had been too obvious, and I actually blushed a bit, thinking of it.
Amrothos chuckled. "I would not mind you courting my sister; although I should be wary, knowing what I now know about you – and your behaviour with women."
After a couple of weeks we set out for Minas Tirith. As we approached the city, we saw the banners flying and we rode through the city gates in triumph. We were met by the steward, who relinquished his staff to Aragorn, signifying that the king now ruled Gondor again. In his turn, Aragorn passed the staff to Faramir again, asking him to be the king's steward. I spotted my sister standing high on the battlements; obviously she only had eyes for the young steward because she did not really look my way. She stood next to Lothíriel as far as I could tell.
We rode in procession to the citadel where we dismounted. Éowyn came running towards me and I caught her in my arms. I felt in her embrace that she had feared for me and I also saw a tear roll down her cheek. When I let go of her, I saw Imrahil and his family come towards us. The young woman, who I had seen standing next to my sister, came towards me dressed in the sea-blue of Dol Amroth, and I realised that I had only ever seen Lothíriel in the simple garb she had worn in the Houses of Healing. I inhaled sharply as I looked at her; the light blue fabric flowed around her lithe body and her long dark hair hung loosely down her back, held back with silver clips.
She absolutely took my breath away, and I knew then for certain that I was falling in love with the princess of Dol Amroth.
She walked up to me together with her father and she sent me a bright smile. I took her hand and kissed it.
"Thank you for bringing me hope, princess." I said.
"I am glad that I could," she replied, blushing slightly. I noticed that Imrahil cast us both a look and his eyes narrowed. Amrothos winked at me, a grin spreading over his handsome face.
After a relaxed dinner, the participants spread out to engage in various activities. Some just sat talking, other engaged in games, my sister and the steward of Gondor were engaged in a conversation with Imrahil and his sons, and I contemplated a manoeuvre to get the princess of Dol Amroth to myself.
I went over to her and she looked up at me with a smile in her eyes. "My Lady," I said, "would you do me the honour of walking with me in the gardens? I have missed our conversations while I have been away."
"I have missed them, too, my Lord ---- but I trust that you have not missed the company of my family?" she said with a smile. Over dinner, Amrothos had told the company the tale of how Elphir, he and I had finally triumphed over Gimli the Dwarf in a drinking contest. Gimli had grunted, 'that it had been a conspiracy; he had been unprepared – and besides he did not entirely believe that it had been a fair contest.' Everybody had laughed heartily, including the dwarf.
I grinned slightly, "Your brothers are very worthy and amusing company but I did miss their sister very much," I said.
She put her hand on my arm and we walked through the garden, speaking quietly about the events of the latest weeks.
We reached the garden wall, from which we had an overview of the city. A small bench was situated in the shade of a blooming tree – and I lead her to that bench. We sat down and just sat for a while without talking. I took her hand.
"Lothíriel," I said – and just saying her name made me shiver ever so slightly. As if in thoughts, I caressed her hand slowly letting my thumb glide over it.
"Lothíriel, the thought of you – and the thought that you would actually be thinking of me, brought me through the horror of the battle. Both you and my sister gave me a reason for fighting; I wanted to live and wanted to come back to you." I looked into her eyes. "And you must have thought a lot of me."
She blushed. "Oh, but I did – I fear too much at times," she said. "Please excuse me for being so bold, my Lord," she added looking up at me. I caressed the back of her hand again, and she blushed profoundly, shivering slightly.
I let go of her hand, suddenly afraid that I might have offended her. "I am sorry, princess, I did not mean to offend you."
"You have not offended me, my Lord. But my brothers – and my father - would perhaps find you a tad too forward," she laughed. "I on the other hand do not." And she looked smilingly into my eyes.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking, and did not realise that the shadows were growing long. That is, not until we heard a very indignant voice: "Do not for one moment think that the fact that you are a king warrant that you can do as you please with my sister. Otherwise you are much mistaken!"
Elphir's storm grey eyes shot arrows at me. I rose and looked calmly at him.
"Elphir, being an older brother myself I would not presume taking advantage of your sister. I assure you that Lothíriel has come to no harm."
Then I got an idea and turned toward Lothíriel. "Princess, would you do me the honour of taking a ride with my sister and me tomorrow morning – that is, of course, if you will allow it, prince?"
Elphir nodded, although reluctantly. "I will allow it – as your sister is coming with you."
I bowed over Lothíriel's hand, kissing it and murmured at her: "And now I shall have to make arrangements with Éowyn to this effect."
We went for a ride the following morning and when we got back to the stables, I helped her down. She slid right into my arms, and I held her close just for a while until Elphir grumpily reminded me that I was taking liberties. Lothíriel on the other hand did not seem to mind, and I heard her catch her breath as I let go of her.
As the weeks passed, we went for more rides – with or without Éowyn – but always chaperoned by somebody, usually my guards – and for walks in the garden and in the city. We talked about any and all subjects, and I realised that I had never met a woman, with whom I could talk so freely. I told her about the shame I had felt because I had mistrusted Merry's abilities to fight – and misjudged my sister when she had gone with the rest of us to the Pelennor Fields. I almost lost her.
She comforted me, when I spoke of my despair – and that I did not fully trust my own abilities when it came to being king, and she reassured me that I would make a great king – if and when I stopped whining and started believing in myself.
I could not help laughing; without a doubt she was the most outspoken woman I had ever met – apart from my sister. And it was so easy to laugh when I was with her.
One night I had a conversation with Aragorn. That man would look right through you, given half a chance and he smiled at me. "It seems to me, my friend, that you are more than slightly interested in the princess of Dol Amroth. May I take that as a sign that Rohan will shortly have a queen?"
"Aragorn, please – I have not even found my own two feet in that respect yet, and now you already see me married." I quipped.
"Well, it seems to me that she has you well and truly off your feet, young friend," Aragorn retorted.
I grew serious. "Aragorn, how do you know when somebody is just right for you?" I asked. One drunken night on the Cormallen, Aragorn had told me of the woman he had loved for more than sixty years. The daughter of Elrond, Arwen Evenstar – and he had told me of his fears that he would never see her again, let alone get to spend his life with her. "She told me that she would rather spend one lifetime with me than being alone for ever, that she would chose a mortal life," he had said to me, looking up at the stars, slowly swirling the brandy in his goblet.
Now he looked at me. "I cannot tell – you just know, I think. And I do think that you know." I nodded, yes I did know. I do not think that I had ever wanted anything as much I wanted her – and it frightened me. But I also felt that my feelings were reciprocated. I felt it in every look, in every slight touch that I received from her. But I could not ask her yet; I had a country to rebuild, a people to restore.
A couple of weeks before Aragorn's coronation, Faramir approached me and asked for my sister's hand in marriage – and I readily granted it when I saw the light in their eyes as they looked at each other. How could I not? If Faramir made my sister happy, I would not stand in her way – although I would be lonely when she left me. I asked of them a betrothal period of six months – Éowyn protested; she wanted a betrothal in the way of the Éothéod, but I put a stop to that ---- as it would mean that they got to consummate their relationship already on the night of the official betrothal, which would be when we buried Théoden King with his fathers at Edoras.
Aragorn smiled, a bittersweet smile when he congratulated my sister and Faramir – only his eyes gave him away. "No niggard are you, Éomer, to grant Gondor such a jewel," he said to me. I knew that he had felt sympathy for my sister – and that he also was thinking of his own love.
Later that evening Lothíriel and I had a chance to slip away and take a walk in the gardens. I had been thinking all day and I had reached the conclusion that I would wait no longer telling Lothíriel about my intentions although I could not formally ask her to marry me. We were leaving soon, and it would be a while before we got back to bring my uncle home. I knew that Imrahil and his family would travelling with us at that time to honour the late king, to be there at the betrothal of Éowyn and Faramir – after all, they were all the family that Faramir had – and to witness my crowning, but this would several weeks away.
When we reached the spot, which had become our favourite, I turned towards her and took both of her hands in mine. "Lothíriel – I cannot go anywhere – or let you go – without telling you this. I believe that I am in love with you, and I cannot imagine ever being without you. However, I have still too much to do, my uncle has not even been buried --- my sister is getting married, and I need to sort things out with my people before I can think of myself. Please understand that there is nothing I want more than to run to your father and ask for your hand in marriage --- but please be patient; I cannot do it now."
She stood for a while and then she lifted her beautiful eyes towards mine and whispered. "I understand." She said nothing more, but I read in her eyes what she felt. I kissed her hands and, placing a finger under her chin, I lifted her face towards mine, and then I kissed her softly on the lips.
"Trust me, there is nothing that I want more right now than to kiss you – properly, but I have not got the right." I took her hand and walked her to her room. I kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek.
"Goodnight, princess." I whispered and left her – although reluctantly. She stood at the door, gazing after me.
I had difficulty falling asleep; there was nothing that I wanted more than to undo what I had told her, but I felt that my people, my country had to come first – before my own happiness. I just wished that Lothíriel really was the woman, I thought her to be – that she would truly understand.
We stood at the bottom of the stairs watching Gandalf placing the winged crown upon Aragorn's head. I stood next to Lothíriel – and to my sister and Faramir. As he walked down the stairs, Aragorn's eyes caught mine and I inclined my head. "Hail thee, Elessar," I thought. We smiled slightly at each other, acknowledging a true friendship – and a fellowship between kings.
As we fell in behind Aragorn to form the procession, I saw Legolas approaching. The almost divinely handsome elf had finally dressed according to his position – Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. Behind him a delegation of other elves approached, among them I spotted Elrond and the lady Galadriel. A beautiful, dark-haired woman came towards Aragorn and when I saw his face, I realised that this was his love – Arwen Evenstar had come to him at last. For a moment he stood paralysed – but then he walked towards her, relieved her of the banner that she was carrying and scooped her into his arms, kissing her both fiercely and passionately. Ha, so much for Gondorian propriety!
Everybody smiled and cheered.
I looked at Lothíriel. In her eyes I read that she, too, was moved and amused by Aragorn's actions. I took her hand in mine and whispered. "One day I hope to do the same with you, Lothíriel. I hope that I am not too bold, my Lady?" She smiled back at me, shaking her head. "No," she just whispered.
When we got back to the citadel to prepare for the celebrations that night, I went up to Imrahil asking that we have a word in private. He looked at me. "Certainly, my friend." I had a feeling that he knew my purpose.
He showed me to his chambers, poured us a goblet of wine and sat down opposite me in a high-backed chair. "Let me hear what is on your mind, Éomer King," he said.
I looked directly at him, and decided that I would speak bluntly; it was never in my creed not to be direct.
"Imrahil – dear friend. I have come to talk to you about your daughter. These past few weeks it has become clear to me that I am falling in love with her and that she is the one woman, with whom I could live and who would make a fine queen to my people. But I cannot offer her that just yet. I need to have things sorted out, to bury my uncle – to become the King of Rohan, and I will not ask Lothíriel to marry me until I can offer her myself wholeheartedly, she should not play second fiddle not even to my country. But I would like your permission to write her, to visit her whenever I can – and to spend time with her when I can. To court her. Will you allow this?"
Imrahil looked at me. "I must admit, Éomer, that it does not come as a surprise to me. Your intentions have been blatantly clear ever since you saw her for the first time – and I daresay that my daughter's inclination has been very clear, too. I am happy to say that I readily grant you your wish, but it is Lothy who should really grant you this."
I nodded. "I will talk to her tonight; after that time I cannot stay at Minas Tirith; I have to go back to Edoras – and will not be back in Minas Tirith – not even for Aragorn's wedding - until I come to take my uncle home. I need to be with my people, to mourn with the families who have lost a brother, a son, a father and to get my country back together again. Please say that you understand, Imrahil. I will be back to woo your daughter, but I cannot right now."
Imrahil nodded. "I do understand, Éomer – but you need to get Lothy to understand as well. I have no doubt that she will. But, talk to her." He slapped my shoulder. "Now, go enjoy yourself this night, dance with my daughter, and woo her the way she deserves."
I nodded. I had every intention. I knocked on Lothíriel's door and she opened. At first, she looked a little apprehensive, but then she bid me in.
"I think it better than we walk out on the balcony, at least we will be in full view and I cannot compromise you," I said. I opened the door leading out onto the balcony and let her walk ahead of me. I leaned against the rail and looked at her.
"Lothíriel. I repeat what I said yesterday. I am in love with you and if it were only up to me, I would ask you to marry me tomorrow – or else sweep you off your feet, tie you to my horse and flee with you to Edoras." I paused and spied a small grin buried deep in her eyes. "But it is not," I continued, "I have to go back to Edoras and make preparations for burying my uncle, assess the damages to Rohan, to start the rebuilding of my country – and of my people. I need to mourn with them, to mourn for my friends, my men, my ….. I need to be a king before I can become a husband and a lover – and you should be first in my heart, not second to anybody or anything. Lothy, please say you understand."
Lothíriel silenced me by placing her fingers against my lips. She looked calmly at me, her lovely eyes glittering towards me.
"Éomer, I quite understand – and I can wait; you need not promise me anything now. I would like nothing better than just be thrown over your saddle and carried to Edoras, but it cannot be. Allow me this night – and promise me that you will let me be with you when you bury your uncle and when you are crowned king. Then you might know, whether you are ready to make me an offer of marriage – and to make me your queen."
I lifted my hand to caress her cheek. "I could ask for nothing more. Now, let us enjoy this night – the feast and the music. And I promise you that I will allow you to be with me when I do this – bury my uncle and become king. And that I will be ready then." I kissed her cheek and offered her my arm and we went to the king's hall to celebrate the glory of Aragorn's coronation.
Many eyes followed us as we came down the stairs, Lothíriel's arm resting on mine, but I did not care. I would fully enjoy this evening; perhaps I would not see her for several months.
Later, Éowyn told me that she had rarely seen a more spectacular sight. "You both looked so ….. Lothíriel looked so beautiful – and you the very epitaph of a king. Tongues were wagging, also because you arrived later than most – and together – and looking as if you had reached some sort of understanding."
I knew that they were whispering; I knew that some of the unmarried women of the court had had their eyes set on me – and I also knew that some of the elder dignitaries and lords of Rohan also would very much like to see one of their daughters married into the royal family of Rohan – but I knew that it would be Lothy or no one else.
We enjoyed the feasting and the celebrations – and I enjoyed dancing with her, holding her tight, feeling her body against mine --- and later, much later I grabbed her hand and led her out onto the terrace leading out to the gardens. The spring night was filled with all kinds of flowery scents, but no scent enticed me like the scent of Lothíriel, I knew that I had no right --- I had not even asked for her hand in marriage, only given her an indefinite maybe that I would one day make her my wife, but I could not help myself, I had to kiss her – and I did so in a secluded spot where we were hidden from all eyes by hanging boughs and leaves.
She did not resist; in fact it much seemed as if she quite enjoyed it, laughing breathlessly when I let go of her lips. It was wonderful, like nothing else I had ever experienced. When I kissed her again, her lips were warm and soft and opened against my probing tongue, letting her own play with mine.
"I'm sorry, Lothíriel. I know that I had no right as I have promised you nothing yet, but I could not help myself; I will probably not see you for several months and I am leaving tomorrow." I still held her in my arms and was looking into her smiling eyes.
"I am not protesting, now am I?" she asked as she reached up and caressed my cheek. "Your kisses and your words are enough for me – for now. But I will miss you terribly, Éomer. I will count the hours until we meet again," she said. I took the hand that was caressing my cheek and kissed the palm; then I asked her permission to take her back to the hall where we said our goodbyes just outside the door. It was getting late and I was leaving very early the next morning.
"I shall write you often," I said, as I pressed a kiss against her forehead. "I cannot promise a letter every week, but I shall do my best to write you at least once a month. I was never much of a letter writer so my letters will probably be quite tedious."
Lothíriel laughed. "Nevertheless I shall be looking forward to receiving them," she said as she stood on tiptoes to press a kiss against my lips. "Goodbye, my king," she whispered. I reciprocated her kiss, quite fiercely. "Goodbye, my princess," I said softly and then we went back into the hall for a final dance.
I could see that Éowyn and Faramir had absented themselves, probably with the same purpose as Lothíriel and I – and I decided to leave them be. They would not be seeing each other for a couple of months either, not until Éowyn and I brought our uncle back to be buried at Edoras – and Faramir would accompany Aragorn to the funeral – and for the official announcement of their betrothal to the people of Rohan.
I left Lothíriel with her father, kissing her hand as I said goodbye to her and her family and then I went to say my goodbyes to Aragorn, regretting that I would not be able to attend his wedding. My friend nodded solemnly. "We shall miss you and your sister, but I do understand that you have a duty towards your people. I shall be looking forward to seeing you again when we are bringing Théoden King back to Edoras to rest with his ancestors." He clasped my forearm in the age-old greeting between warriors, and I left him and Arwen with a slight bow.
Back in my room I shed the garbs of my office and packed them in my trunk. Then I ascertained that my armour was laid out and went to bed. Sleep, however, eluded me. I kept seeing Lothíriel's face before me and heard her sweet voice. Damn it, I wanted to make her mine, to crush her in my arms and ask her to stay with me forever. I did not want to spend time away from her – but I had to, my duty told me that it must be so. Bloody hell, I never wanted to be a king. But then I realised that I would never have been able to consider Lothíriel for my wife, if I had still only been the Third Marshal and smiled sardonically.
Éowyn occupied the room next to me, and when I heard voices outside my door, I realised that it must be Faramir saying goodbye to my sister. I smiled, at least we would be common in our misery; I was sure that Éowyn would be missing Faramir as much as I would be missing Lothíriel.
Finally sleep must have come to me, because when I awoke, dawn was near and it was time to get up and prepare to leave. My heart felt heavy as I donned my armour. A soft knock on the door announced the arrival of Gamling; he walked silently up to me and helped me fastening the shoulder plates of my armour, just as he had done a thousand times for my uncle.
"Thank you, Gamling," I said. "Tis' indeed a heavy day for us, leaving so many behind at the Mundberg – but the next time we get here our task will be heavier still." My old friend nodded solemnly.
"Indeed so, Sire."
I interrupted him. "And it goes for you, too, as well as for Éothain, Gamling. In private you do not call me 'Sire' – if you do, I shall personally see to it that you are also degraded."
A grin lit up Gamling's face. "I keep forgetting – but habits of a long life of service are hard to shred, you know that, Éomer."
I nodded. "I do know – but being king can be lonely enough, and as I told Éothain, I find the number of my friends diminished, and I need not distance myself from those I have left. Béma's balls, man, the two of us have shared enough ale and wenches .."
Gamling sent me one of his crooked grins. "Indeed we have. Speaking about wenches, when may we expect the Lady Lothíriel's arrival at Edoras."
I shot him a glance. "Probably for Théoden King's funeral together with her family," I said, suspecting what he might be insinuating.
"I thought that she would be arriving sooner," Gamling said, trying to sound innocent.
"And why would she be doing that?" I inquired.
"Because she is going to be the queen of Rohan," Gamling proffered with a grin.
"Seeing as I have not yet asked her, I cannot see that she will be," I growled, glaring at him. "And besides, the princess is hardly a wench, and I would appreciate if you would abstain talking about her in that manner."
Gamling inclined his head and looked at me with a smirk. "So that is the way the wind is blowing. Well, well …."
I shut him up with a glare that had stopped several disputes, and he obviously got the message as he stopped.
The men were waiting for us in the courtyard; Éowyn was standing with Faramir and Aragorn obviously waiting for us. Aragorn looked at me, and I was sure that he could tell that Gamling and I had had words. "So, this is it, friend – I must see you go but I know that we shall see each other again soon when you come to take Théoden King back. Arwen and I shall miss you both at our wedding, but we know that it must be so."
He clasped my forearms and I reciprocated the gesture; this friendship would outlive anything and all.
Then he proceeded to say goodbye to my sister, kissing her hand, and we all mounted. As I called for my men to ride I caught Aragorn's eyes and nodded. Yes, we would be back.
The men were anxious to get back and we set good pace across the plains and the road to the Mark. We set up camp at the Dunharrow and prepared to take the road under the mountain, as Aragorn had assured me that the Dead would no longer impede travellers; they were finally laid to rest. And we truly got through the Dimholt without any incidents, although the place still was a bit too glum for my taste.
We reached Edoras in ten days, and we were greeted by many, mostly women and children, who eagerly anticipated the return of their loved ones. Many, however, were disappointed and grieved. Although we had sent messages back, some had still hoped that mistakes had been made and their loved one would return anyway. Although the Rohirrim are very pragmatic people, you could not blame them for holding up hope in this way.
It was strange walking up the stairs to Meduseld after being away for so long, and I felt even stranger as I entered the hall, seeing the king's throne at the far end. I walked up to it and stood in front of it; Éowyn was watching me and when I paused just before the steps up the dais, she laid a hand on my shoulder and encouraged me. "Éomer, it is all right, you have the right, it is your throne now."
I walked up the steps and stood before the throne, feeling the smooth wooden armrests. How many times had I not stood beside the throne waiting upon my uncle – or in front of it waiting for my uncle's commands? As I stood there, I envisaged him as he had been before he fell under the spell of Saruman – and as he had been the last weeks of his life. I closed my eyes and then I moved up to sit on the throne, hesitantly.
Gamling, who had joined us, nodded. "Do not look that way, Éomer. It is your right now," he said.
I nodded; I knew that – but that did not prevent me from feeling out of place.
The weeks that followed were busy. Never in my life had I imagined that being king meant that I would rarely have a moment to myself. I was forever surrounded by advisors and in between discussions of the rebuilding of our country they did not waste any time reminding me that Rohan was in need of a queen and of an heir, and that they had several potential young noblewomen of Rohan and Gondor, who would be suitable candidates. I managed to wave them off, stating that my uncle's funeral, my own crowning and my sister's wedding held higher priority with me – not to speak of the rebuilding of our country, our herds and our people.
But I missed Lothíriel – profoundly. When I lay in my bed at night, before I slept from exhaustion, I saw her face before me and I felt her kiss on my lips, as I fantasized about her body close to mine. Sometimes sleep entirely eluded me, and I sat at my desk writing letters to her, telling her of my everyday life, my worries – and how difficult it had been returning to take up the position, to take my uncle's place. The most difficult thing, however, had been to meet with the families, who had lost a father or a son. Some of the men I had known all my life, some of them were my friends – and some of them I had seen growing up. Everywhere they looked to me to rebuild their country and their life, to comfort them – and I felt their trust and faith in me.
All that I wrote in my letters to Lothíriel, and she wrote many back, comforting me, giving me hope and strength. And I missed her more and more; I was beginning to realise that it had been a mistake not to ask her to marry me on the spot – and have her here with me.
I had envisaged that I would be able to visit her, but the time was never right. I knew from her letters that she was disappointed – and I felt miserable. My only comfort was that so did Éowyn; numerous letters flowed to and fro Minas Tirith as well, and I would not wonder if any of the dispatch riders had not complained to Gamling one time or another, because one afternoon only a couple of days before we were supposed to set out to fetch my uncle's body at Minas Tirith to take it back to Edoras, Gamling walked into my study and stood in front of my desk with his arms crossed.
"And for how long have you contemplated keeping this up?" he inquired.
"Keeping what up?" I asked him.
"Having messengers riding to and fro Belfalas? It is bad enough that they have to go to Minas Tirith, carrying letters to Lord Faramir, but also to Belfalas? Would it not be a better idea to have her here in stead?" I could tell that he somehow enjoyed himself, the cad.
"I do not know what you mean, Gamling. And who are you to question your king's actions?" I tried to sound severe and kingly – and superior, but I must have failed miserably, because he just looked calmly at me.
"In my opinion you should get it over with; go to Belfalas, propose to the princess and negotiate conditions, which ensure a short period of betrothal. You are behaving like a lion in a cage when you are not working – luckily Éowyn is getting married soon, because if we are to keep our patience with the both of you ….. Get it done, man!"
"Béma's Balls, Gamling!" I started, but he silenced me.
"I have ordered everything ready to travel to Belfalas the day after tomorrow. You will travel with a guard – and me," he grinned, "and we will have Wyn going with us to ensure that everything is done according to protocol – or almost. The guard that is to take Théoden King will set out a couple of days later and meet up with us to go to Gondor – Éothain will lead this detail."
I grinned helplessly. "You really have planned everything, have you not? You are right, Gamling. I am a fool in love – and I need her more than I had believed possible. Who am I to think that I could do without her?"
"As you said, a fool – but that is no secret to any of us – remember how long we have known you. And besides, we need to get you bedded, well and truly. As long as you pine for her, it will be a trial for the rest of us – as we shall probably not be able to persuade you to go seek your release elsewhere." Gamling sent me a lopsided, cheeky grin. "How say you, Sire?"
"Ah, so now you call me 'Sire' and ask for my opinion?" I growled. Gamling bowed mockingly and left me, grinningly. I glared after him and shook my head – but he was right; this was what I had to do.
Two days later we set off for Belfalas through Erech, Gamling, a small detail of guards and I. We sent a messenger ahead so that we did not leave Imrahil's court unprepared ---- and consequently the first person I saw when I rode into the city with my entourage was – Lothíriel. As she halted her mount alongside Firefoot, it was all that I could abstain from reaching out and lifting her onto my horse – and kissing her.
She was just as I remembered her; her long dark hair was braided but some tresses had escaped and flew around her face; her cheeks were flushed from the wind – and perhaps from seeing me? – and her eyes shone brightly towards me, glittering dangerously.
"Welcome, Éomer," she said, her voice trembling, and then she laughed; it sounded like little tingling bells. "Oh, how I rejoice in seeing you, I have missed you so!" she exclaimed – much to the amusement of my guards and Gamling as well as the guard that had accompanied her.
She turned her mount to ride beside me; that was all that we could do right now, but I swore that it would not stay that way, not if I could help it.
We rode through the city gates. Belfalas is situated high above the sea, and the city is as if carved in stone, just as Minas Tirith. We halted in front of the castle of the prince. Imrahil stood on the stairs together with two of his sons – Elphir and Amrothos. Apparently Erchirion was at sea.
They greeted me warmly, although I sensed a certain wariness in Elphir's greeting. He had no illusions as to why I had come – and I could tell from the look in both Imrahil's and Amrothos' eyes that neither had they.
"Welcome, my friend," Imrahil said, "I had not expected you here only a short while before your uncle's funeral; you know that we will be joining you on your journey back to Edoras, do you not? But you are, indeed, welcome here."
"Yes, I do know," I said, "but there is something that I needed to do before I could go to Minas Tirith. Can I talk to you in private, Imrahil?" I looked deeply into Lothíriel's eyes; she smiled at me and I could tell that she knew exactly what my purpose was.
Imrahil, the sly fox, did not lift even an eyebrow in surprise that I did not wait until I had washed off the travelling dust. He just nodded and led me to his study. Behind me, I could hear a stifled chuckle from Amrothos, a chunk as if somebody had hit him – and a snort from Elphir.
Imrahil closed the door behind us and moved over to a side table, where he poured some wine from a decanter into two goblets, offering me one. "Sit down," he said gesturing towards a large, high-backed chair in front of his desk. He moved over behind it and sat down.
I removed my gauntlets, took the offered goblet and sat down. I looked straight into his eyes, not hesitating even for a moment.
"Imrahil, as you very well know I am in love with your daughter, and – even though I thought that I could wait, I find that I cannot. I cannot go on doing what I do without her by my side. I cannot sleep; my thoughts are ever disturbed by the vision of Lothíriel – I want to make her my wife, and soon at that!"
Imrahil grinned. "Aye, I thought that that might be the case when your messenger arrived. And I must say that it would make things easier around here as well. Truly, my daughter has been more of a handful than she usually is, waiting for you to change your mind and come to woo her."
He truly looked, as he was quite amused as he continued. "And I readily give my consent. I believe that we shall be able to find a way to go around the strict rules of protocol of Gondor when it comes to betrothals and marriages. After all, you are a sovereign of a nation and should be married according to the customs of your own country."
"I would like to announce the betrothal at the same time as I announce my sister's betrothal to Faramir officially – and then be married perhaps at midsummer next year? That will leave me amble time to prepare for her coming, for the wedding and her coronation – and then my advisors and my nobility will know that I have chosen ….. and that they need not chase me anymore. I am going insane of all their scheming to have me marrying one of their daughters --- and I only want Lothíriel!"
Now Imrahil was grinning openly. "You sound just like her ---- she informed me the other day that I needed not exert myself to find a suitor for her. Even though you had said nothing yet, she knew that she wanted only you – and that she knew that you would be coming for her soon ---- when your messenger arrived, she had her horse saddled before anybody even had a chance of reacting and rode out to meet you."
I laughed, very relieved. "Then Imrahil – would you have her fetched? I would very much like to ask her – now!"
Imrahil grinned wryly. "She is probably just outside the door, waiting impatiently." He went to the door and opened it. And as he had predicted, Lothíriel was waiting outside – together with a chuckling Amrothos – with a most impatient look on her face.
"Daughter, will you join us?" Imrahil asked.
Lothíriel stepped into her father's study, her eyes not letting go of me for a second, and she stopped just in front of me, a beautiful smile on her lips and her cheeks pink from excitement.
Imrahil looked at her, a smile moving up into his eyes. "Daughter, Éomer King has approached me with a proposal. He proposes marriage to you …." He did not get any further, before he was interrupted by Lothy. "Oh, Ada, you need not be so formal. You know what my answer will be – yes, I will gladly marry Éomer…" and then she flung her arms around my neck. And what could I do besides kissing her?
Imrahil coughed discreetly, but as he discovered that it had little effect, he left us. That is what he must have done, but I did not discover this until much later when Lothy freed herself from my arms with a giggle. "Éomer – I think we need to …. You must be tired …. And, and you should have to wash and change. What am I thinking of?"
"Love, you are ranting," I said, still with my arms around her. "And yes, I do need to change – but tired, never. I am so happy that you want to be my wife, that you want to be with me, even though I left you with such a vague promise."
"I knew that you would come – eventually," she said with a smile, as she caressed my cheek, letting her fingers glide through my beard.
"And how could you be sure of that?" I asked playfully, but I really did not wonder; in the little time I had known Lothíriel, I had learned that the Elvish blood in her made her aware of things that others might not perceive – and I was quite sure that she had read between the lines in my letters that I missed her – and I longed to be with her.
She smiled at me and I could not help kissing her again, crushing her against me as if I never wanted to let her go. It seemed like hours later that I let her go, and she walked me to my room.
----ooo000ooo----
At midsummer the following year I married Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, and as I had expected she soon became as beloved by my people as she was by me – or anybody else for that matter. It certainly made my task easier having her by my side – and perhaps she is the real reason for the name that I have heard people all over my country calling me, Éomer Éadig – the Blessed. Aye, for certain I am blessed – I feel that every day that I am with her – and our children.
I look up from my journal, because here she comes, my love, my light and my queen – asking me what is so important that I have almost missed my midday meal, haven't I heard her calling me? I go to her and kiss her – to the protesting looks and noises of my eldest sons and daughters, who do not think that a man, who is rapidly approaching his mid-forties should be kissing his wife in this manner and in broad daylight, but I do not care – because in their mother I still see the young woman I fell in love with in the Houses of Healing at Minas Tirith all those years ago ………..
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