A/N: Thank you for your nice and helpful reviews (all of you! it was so nice to see some of you again!). And the chapters were actually meant to drag… I was trying to create a tedious, paralyzing, depressing atmosphere (and I guess I succeeded there, lol; further explanation to the inner workings of the story and why the pacing has changed can be found on my Live Journal for anyone who is interested!). So… no assassins in this chapter but be sure to leave me a note, telling me what you think!

oooOooo

95. Nénimë, Súlimë, Víressë

"You are only fining them?" I screamed at Elfhelm. "They killed five innocent persons and you are only fining them to pay for the boy's upkeep until he can support himself?"

My voice rose shrilly at the end of the sentence. There were tears of horror and anger in my eyes.

I don't know how I managed to remain calm until we reached the study just behind the Golden Hall. Somehow. But now there was no way for me to remain quiet and composed.

Elfhelm stared at me in surprise. Master Lamont's eyebrows rose so high on his forehead that they almost touched his receding hairline.

"And you are going to send that boy away to live with them?"

"Are you completely out of your fff… mind?" I brought my hands down on the dark wood of the desk with a smack that reverberated through my arms up to my shoulders. I never noticed the pain of the impact. "Those morons will kill the boy as soon as they get the chance!"

I gasped for breath. I swallowed hard. When I continued, I aimed for a tone of final authority.

"I am not going to stand for that. You are not going to let them get away with that. And furthermore, you are not going to send the boy back to them."

Elfhelm gaped at me. His eyes held the dazed expression of someone who has just seen a human being turn into a slimy green alien right in front of him. Elaine watched the scene from the background. She seemed to smile.

I waited for anyone to say anything. The silence lengthened. I glared at Elfhelm.

The sudden noise of someone clearing his throat made me turn around. Master Lamont. He did not smile.

"My lady, our laws do not provide for any other punishment than a fine. The sum of the fine is determined on the basis of the damages inflicted. The boy's family were not Rohirrim. They were only Dunlendings. Enemies of our people. Enemies of long standing I might add. It is actually questionable if Rohirric law is applicable in this case at all. Lord Grimsir could have simply ignored the matter. In fact, he probably should have. The horses of Rohan were given to us by Bema himself. To kill a horse is a deed equal to the killing of a person. To kill them for meat and sell the produce…"

Lamont looked quite sick at the thought. "That is so foul and so vile… I don't have the words for such a crime! But as in this case one mischief led to another and as the peace established between the Dunlending tribes and Rohan is still far from secure I think that Lord Elfhelm's verdict will be accepted. People ought to recognize the political reasoning behind it, even if they will not like it. But my lady, you have to realize that to even impose a fine on these scoundrels – I will admit they are that – but you have to realize that this is a daring, custom-defying departure from every precedent I can recall from many a domdæg I remember. And if they are fined to pay damages to this boy in order to support him until he comes of age, then it is only just and equitable that they take him and profit from whatever work he can be used for, the way any member of any household has to contribute to the family's upkeep."

I stared at Master Lamont. Mischief? "Only" Dunlendings?

I felt myself shaking my head slowly. An icy lump settled in the pit of my stomach. My horror and anger subsided as I realized what this situation could mean for me.

There was nothing I could do about the Rohirric laws and about the precedents Master Lamont was quoting at me now.

But I could not just stand back and watch as they sent the boy back with these… these…

There was a disbelieving laughter welling up inside of me at the thought of dubbing those men mere "scoundrels", when they had almost wiped out a family. There was no doubt in my mind that the boy would not survive for long if he was sent back to live with the murderers of his parents and siblings. If the fine was made out to be paid to the crown in case that something happened to the boy, they might make sure that he lived to see his fifteenth year, but I was sure that his life would be an endless misery with those… murderers.

I could do nothing about the laws.

But I could determine just how much authority I held as the queen of Rohan.

A test of power come much too soon.

A test of power that would likely cost a life if my authority was not enough, if my voice counted for nothing.

I swallowed and exhaled deeply. Careful now. Keep your head, Lothy.

"But the boy's family lived in a Rohirric village, didn't they? They lived peacefully among the Rohirrim? They lived as Rohirrim, didn't they?"

Elfhelm nodded. "They were tinkers as far as I know; they lived on the fringe of that village, travelling back and forth between their home and the villages and homesteads all around."

He gave me a long look. I could not even guess what he was thinking. The muscles of his face were tense. His grey eyes dark and cool. After a moment of silence the second Marshal of the Mark and underking to Éomer added, "A hard life."

I barely bit back a sigh of relief. If I was not mistaken, Elfhelm had just offered me a chance… I must not waste it!

I turned to Master Lamont again. "What would happen if the boy's family was Rohirric?"

Master Lamont frowned at me. But he answered smoothly and calmly. "There are several remedies provided by our law for that case. Probably all their possessions would fall to the boy and they and their families would be banished from Rohan."

But they were only Dunlendings… living on the edge of the village…

"But the boy's family was not Rohirric," Lamont added. "They were Dunlendings. They belonged to a people who have killed many Rohirrim during the War of the Rings and throughout the centuries before that. A people, who have again and again attacked Rohan, robbed and looted our villages and homesteads, raped our women and killed our children. Not to mention killing, stealing and eating our horses."

One ill turn deserves another…

"But not this time," I said, my throat constricting. What a mess! How should peace and a friendly co-existence ever grow out of this history of war and death and hatred?

Lamont, however, gave me a thoughtful look. Suddenly I realized that – despite his words – the old lore- and law-master was not happy with this case. Even though he was caught up in a tangled web of bitter histories and deeply ingrained cultural taboos, he did not like the way this case had to be solved according to the legal remedies he knew of.

I drew another shaky breath. I felt like a tight-rope acrobat. Stray but a little, and you will fall…

Reasonable. Be reasonable. Only with reason, never with anger, can justice be achieved…

"Is there a possibility that the boy has other relatives among the Dunlendings of that area? Relatives that would give him a home? Or relatives that might have revenge on their minds now?" I asked.

It was Elfhelm who answered. Apparently he had questioned the accused and the captain who had brought them to court thoroughly. "No. We are very lucky. That family was apparently at odds with their own people, or the situation could easily get out of hand. But Lord Grimsir did not want to take any risks, so he sent the case to Edoras."

The case. And the boy…

An idea struck.

"Then it might be wiser to keep the boy here, wouldn't it? Just to make sure that the situation does not escalate, if some of the Dunlendings should suddenly discover their sympathies for tinkers?"

And because I won't send the boy home with those murderers no matter what.

For a long, long moment the room was silent. I could almost feel the air thickening with thoughts…

Elfhelm tapped his upper lip with the long and slender index finger of his left hand. His right was loosely curled around the hilt of his sword.

"I think you are right, my lady," the underking said finally. "If I am not mistaken this is also what Lord Grimsir had in mind when he sent those scoundrels and the boy to Edoras."

Much as I disliked the Lord Grimsir, he was a good political thinker; I had to grant him that. But then, his brother, Gríma, had also been exceedingly clever and devious in his ploys… Obviously a trait that ran deep in that family.

"I suggest that the boy be kept here at the palace," I said in a firm voice. "Those… scoundrels may pay a certain sum annually for the boy's upkeep and a final sum when he comes of age. And I want the boy to go to school – as soon as that school is up and running."

It was clear that I did not "suggest" anything. I was telling them what I wanted. The question was only if my authority was good enough to get me what I wanted.

Again the silence lengthened. The cold feeling in my stomach intensified.

"Well?" I asked.

Someone at the back of the room cleared his throat. Suddenly Helmichis stepped forward and bowed deeply. I had not even noticed that he was in the room.

"My lady," he bowed again. "My lords, I am at the moment without a page. If it is agreeable with you, I would take the boy on. I would see to it that he goes to that school. And taking care of my weapons and armour, he may learn a good trade of it, becoming a tanner or a smith even."

For a moment Elfhelm stared at the young second-in-command of the queen's guard, obviously taken aback.

I held my breath.

I was deeply touched and surprised by Helmichis' offer to take on the boy. But I saw at once what a gigantic leap of faith this offer asked the underking to take. To have a Dunlending boy as a page of the queen's favourite bodyguard!

I counted my heavy heartbeats.

If Elfhelm was not willing to trust Helmichis in this, what other option could I come up with on the spur of the moment?

Elfhelm looked the burly young warrior up and down, scrutinizing him. Something in the way Elfhelm held himself suddenly changed. It was a subtle change, almost unnoticeable. But there was no doubt in my mind that the Second Marshal of the Mark liked and respected the young half-Rohirrim. Finally their eyes met and Elfhelm held Helmichis' gaze for a long moment.

"Very well," Elfhelm said at last.

Helmichis bowed and faded back to his customary position at the door again.

"My lady, do you agree to this solution?"

I realized that Elfhelm was making a point in asking me. He was asserting and confirming my authority as a queen. My knees went weak. I felt giddy with relief.

"Yes, I do, thank you," I replied. Some kind of impressive last line would come in handy now, I thought. But when nothing came to mind, I stayed silent and simply inclined my head graciously.

oooOooo

We returned to the Golden Hall and Elfhelm announced the verdict of the crown. The verdict was: both men had to pay certain sums of money to the royal treasury every year until the boy's fifteenth birthday and a final sum upon that date so that he could set up a trade or shop of his own. And the boy would remain here at the palace in Edoras.

Elfhelm did not say where the boy would stay or why, he only elaborated on what could be considered reasonable behaviour in a case such as theirs and what couldn't – murdering five persons being one of the things that could not be considered reasonable. The men scowled, but kept silent.

Then the herald called for the next case and the men were led away. The boy remained where he was, looking beyond confused, more like frightened to death, especially when Helmichis approached him. I turned around to find that Lunt had taken Helmichis' place on my right. I nodded to Rhawion who was still at my left in acknowledgement of the alteration. The captain of my guard answered with a polite half-bow.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful and passed quickly.

Finally the council was over and the Golden Hall was empty. Elfhelm excused himself. There were still documents to go through and messages to prepare. Helmichis had not yet returned from getting the boy settled down. Elaine was there, though, busy with elaborate embroidery in the corner. Anrid kept her company. Sorcha was probably in the kitchen with Gosvintha and Solas. An afternoon of trials was no place for a little girl.

"I need a little fresh air and quiet," I announced and made for the front doors of the Hall.

Rhawion and Lunt followed me outside, politely keeping back a few paces.

As it was only the very beginning of spring the light of day still waned quickly. When the bells of Edoras tolled for the sixth hour of the afternoon, the sun was already gone from the sky. The sky was a cloudless, deep indigo. The air was almost icy. The houses and roads of Edoras below the terrace seemed to dissolve into soft blue shadows, a cool sfumato of an early evening in Nénimë.

I inhaled deeply. The air was so cold and crisp that it almost hurt in my lungs. From somewhere below the sound of laughter drifted up to me. For the first time in days I could see again just how beautiful Edoras was, how beautiful the surrounding country was. White mists swirled over the River Snowbourne. Between the eastern edge of the mountains and the still bare fields of the Eastfold the first stars glittered silvery bright.

I hope you approve of what I have done today, my love, I whispered into the cool twilight. And I hope you are well and that you return to me soon.

But there was no answer, of course. Only the soft sigh of the wind sweeping down from the glaciers of the Ered Nimrais. I shivered suddenly and turned back to the Golden Hall.

oooOooo

"Ach du gottverdammte Scheiße," I muttered and sucked on my hurting thumb. It was Súlimë and I was speaking a lot of German lately. The sun was bright in a periwinkle-blue sky of spring. The birds were cheering on my failing attempts to commit suicide with an embroidery needle.

It was Súlimë and the tapestries and hangings of the Golden Hall were washed and dried and now they had to be mended. Every woman of the palace was occupied with that task and there were even a few boys busy with threads and needles.

It was Súlimë and I was slowly running out of curses and of unpierced skin.

"Kruzitürkenhundsverrecknochamal!"

I felt so infuriated by the piece of obnoxious fabric in my hands that I was close to throwing it down, trampling all over it and screaming bloody murder with my frustration. And it was only simple straight stitches. At the back of the tapestries. And hangings. And stuff. To keep the various borders from fraying. Simple straight stitches. The only thing I had to watch was that the stitches had to stay on the backside of the tapestries, so that they were invisible on the front. Idiot's work. Tally was better at it than I was. I could not quite suppress some grumbling and hissing. Not that it helped. I tried again to get needle and thread to cooperate on the backside of Eorl the young.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Suddenly a sweet, bright voice interrupted my fuming.

"Coosie – tuki – hussa – ma?"

I raised my head from the fabric that was putting up a valiant battle in my lap (and winning it, too, at least at the moment…).

Solas, who kept us company this afternoon, stood in front of me. Her small face showed an expression of utter fascination.

"Coosietukihussama?" Solas repeated with her high, little girl's lisp.

Sorcha put down the tapestry she was mending in various kinds of tiny, orderly stitches – a complicated affair that showed many white ships before a gigantic wave – and raised a red eyebrow at me.

"Lothy, I have no idea why you think you have to learn embroidery when it is so painfully obvious that –"

"That I am all thumbs at it? And left ones at that?" I interrupted my friend and gave her a broad grin. What else could I do, seeing that this was nothing but the truth?

Sorcha, by now recognized as the best seamstress in the palace, had relaxed into her new role as my lady-in-waiting and her new home in the palace of Meduseld – if not into Helmichis' subtle attempts to catch her attention.

Now she smiled back at me. "You know, Lothy, only because you are the queen you don't have to do everything that we others do. I think it is commendable how you try to take on every task that needs doing. But with this I think you carry things a bit far. And I don't even want to know what those words mean that my daughter keeps picking up from you these days."

Right on cue Solas piped up again, changing from simply repeating her version of my rather colourful German expletive to a childish sing-song to the melody of a Rohirric nursery rhyme.

"Coosie – tuki – hussa – ma, coosie – hussa – tuki – ma, tuki – coosie – hussa – ma!"

I couldn't help grinning. Elaine was obviously biting her tongue in an effort not to laugh out loud and the corners of Gosvintha's eyes crinkled up with silent laughter. Only Anrid did not react to the general hilarity but smiled a sweet dreamy smile away into the sunshine. She was three months pregnant and nothing seemed to be able to dampen her smile these days.

Sorcha reached for her daughter and silenced her by simply holding her hand over the little girl's mouth and tickling her. With muffled laughter and much squirming the song subsided.

"Why don't you help Solas with her letters, my lady? That would spare your poor thumbs – and the tapestries – some pain."

I looked at the tapestry in my lap. I looked at the many red and painful spots on my fingers where I had inadvertently nicked my skin. I looked at little Solas' sunny smile. With a heartfelt sigh of relief I dumped the tapestry I had been working on the heap of hangings that had yet to be mended. Then I held my hand out to Solas.

"How about we go and do some real work, sweetie?"

oooOooo

Víressë had turned Rohan into a living and breathing emerald.

Everything seemed to be green. The slopes of the Ered Nimrais were a dark, vibrant spruce-green, liberally sprinkled with the almost chartreuse colour of budding larch trees. The wide plains of Rohan were tinged in aeneous and emerald where fields of grain and corn sprouted their new growth. But to me the real miracle were the more sombre hues of green that flowed in waves upon waves of lush reseda and sage over the endless grasslands of the Emnet.

It was simply and breathtakingly beautiful.

Something had changed in the long weeks since my confrontation with Elfhelm and Lamont at that unfortunate trial. I was still alone. I still missed Éomer. Every hour, every day, and most of all, every long, lonely night. But somehow I could see the beauty in my world again. I could laugh with my friends. I could enjoy this spring. Those verdant greens!

And the birds!

In winter and during the dark days of early spring the country around Edoras had almost echoed with frozen silence. Now it echoed with the myriad voices of a many feathered choir. I was woken every day way before dawn by an almost deafening concert of birdsong.

In the evenings every roof of Edoras seemed to be occupied by the Rohirric variety of blackbirds. And every one of those small black birds seemed to be set on singing his heart out in an effort to greet this spring appropriately. This spring: the spring of the fourth age of the world, indeed the first year of the fourth age.

Today was one of the nicest evenings yet.

The sun was warm and the air was soft with spring – that humid fragrance of new growth, new life. The sky was wide with this clear, light blue of springtime, a cerulean sky!

Through the open windows of our bedchamber I could see a large blackbird perched on the topmost branch of an apple tree that was about to burst into bloom. The blackbird was doing its best to encourage the blossoms with his whole-hearted ode to springtime. For a moment I hesitated in front of the open window. It was as if I could literally watch the blossoms opening.

Tonight I was a very selfish queen.

I had my meal sent up to the royal apartments. I had eaten alone, too, luxuriating in my lonesomeness for a change. And now I would use the evening sunlight to read and reread my letters.

Two days ago the last letter had arrived.

A hopeful letter!

The border of Harondor was safe.

Harad was prepared to resume negotiations.

Éomer sent word that with a little bit of luck he might be able to return to Edoras in a few weeks' time.

Sun and spring and birdsong and hope!

My heart was giddy with hope.

I got out the wooden box where I kept my letters. It was a very beautiful box, a warm reddish wood that was finely carved with Rohirric designs. I sat down on the bed and hugged the box to me. The freshened straw of the mattress rustled under my weight.

I opened the box.

There were letters of almost every week we had been parted. Short letters and long letters. Carefully written letters that said just how bad the situation was by not saying anything at all. Cheerful letters that told me of a sweetly plump Éowyn and the gorgeous twin girls of Arwen.

Letters filled with longing.

One or two letters that even held the words "I love you".

All of the letters showed the distance they had travelled to reach me. More than four hundred miles as the crow flies. All the letters showed the wear and tear of being touched and read every day, or at least every other day. And a number of them sported smudges, where tears had been wiped at with a sleeve, clumsily and unsuccessfully.

If only he would return home to me soon…and well…

I took out the last letter and carefully spread it open on my pillow.

"My dear Lothíriel," the letter began.

All at once the evening sunshine, the fragrance of spring and the sweet song of the blackbird in the apple tree were forgotten. My world consisted of curling letters in black ink on cream coloured parchment and an echo of a dark, deep voice inside my mind.

"My dear Lothíriel…"

Suddenly the door of the bedchamber opened with a BANG that had me swallowing my heart with fright.

I whipped around with my heart pounding and an angry rebuke at the disturbance on my lips.

Suddenly I found myself in a tight embrace, pressed against a broad chest, my face showered with kisses, my breath taken with a spicy scent of man and horse and leather. Dun and golden hair tickled my nose, dark eyes mere inches away from my own, a deep, dark voice, almost breaking, with emotions spilling over in kisses and tears…

"I am afraid I am a very bad king and commander, my love," Éomer whispered, his hands roaming hungrily over my body. "As soon as we crossed the border at Mering Stream I took my guard and set off, at break-your-neck speed, with only one thought on my mind…"

He buried his face against my neck, kissing and sucking as if he was about to starve to death and I the only food to nourish him.

"Éomer?" My voice sounded breathless and thin. It seemed to come from far away, a hoarse, incredulous whisper.

"Éomer?"

My hands found his face. His skin was hot. My fingers traced his high forehead, strong cheekbones, the silky fur of his beard and down to his stubborn chin. At the same time I tried to see every part of his body, to make sure that it was really him and that he was alright, that he was not hurt, that he was real, that he was back, that he was in one piece and that…

"Yes, my love," he answered. His voice was shaky. There were tears in his eyes!

"Yes, my love," he repeated. "I am back."

I broke into tears.

oooOooo

A/N: I hope you like that:-)