Four weeks after his wedding, Éomer was called away from Edoras at the request of one of his Marshals to address a land dispute in Snowbourne that seemed to require no less than the attention of the king himself. After his arrival, it did not take Éomer long to realize the pettiness of the matter, and that it should not have been his responsibility. Not that he was insensitive to the day-to-day problems of his subjects, of course, but there was a reason kings were given the privilege of delegating authority. He simply did not have time to tend to every small problem by himself. He was going to have to put his foot down about his subordinates handling such things in the future. This could not become a habit.
Still, it hadn't really taken that long to smooth the ruffled feathers on both sides. After only two days he was headed back to Medueselde. The journey was not overly long or taxing, giving him much time to ponder on the new and strange state of affairs at home.
The wedding had not, perhaps, been as idyllic as many in the kingdom would have wished. This had nothing to do with the eagerness of the people or the willingness of the bride and groom, despite the formality of the union. Rather, the bride had fallen unfortunately ill the day before the wedding with an unfortunate stomach malady. Éomer's physicians attributed it to something poor she'd mistakenly eaten in the preceding days, likely on the road from Gondor. Aragorn himself attended her, and assured both Éomer and an anxious Prince Imrahil that, though she would have to put up with several days' discomfort, she would not endure any long-term effects.
Poor Lothíriel was bedridden for nearly four days. Her family only suffered her to emerge long enough for a hasty wedding ceremony on the appointed day, before she was spirited away again to endure the rest of the illness. Éomer was immensely grateful that both Éowyn and Imrahil's daughters-in-law had been there to attend her, for he certainly would not have known what to do.
The court of Edoras did its best to celebrate the event, despite the indisposition of the bride. Some had argued that perhaps they should have delayed the ceremony, but as it had been for Théoden's funeral, there were simply too many guests crowding the Golden Hall to be able to host for more than a few days' time. Mercifully, Aragorn and the Queen departed back for Minas Tirith the following day, and Imrahil remained only long enough to ensure his daughter was indeed regaining her strength. Then he'd taken the rest of his family back home, leaving the people of Edoras to adjust to the new state of affairs rather abruptly.
Éomer raised a hand to greet the sentries as he passed through the gates of Edoras. It was good to be home, despite the brevity of his journey. As he approached the Golden Hall, he could see Éothain hastily descending the front stairs out of the corner of his eye. He offered another wave, even has he expertly guided Firefoot toward the stables. By the time his friend caught up, Éomer was had already relieved Firefoot of the saddle and was just beginning a thorough rubdown of the horse's back with a well-worn currycomb.
"Greetings, my Lord King. I am glad to see you returned safely."
"Greetings, Éothain. It is good to be back. I trust nothing out of hand transpired in my absence."
"Not a thing, my Lord. It's been as quiet as June around here."
There was a heavy pause before Éomer looked up. The expression on his long-time friend's face was a mixture of restlessness and longing. Éomer began chuckling. "What is wrong?" he asked patiently, although he suspected he already knew.
"Éomer," began the other man hesitantly, "do not mistake me. My assignment here is a great honor. That you would trust me with such a distinguished position brings me great joy. And of course, it gives me much time to be with my family…"
"So what is the problem?" Éomer asked plainly, raising his eyebrows.
Éothain sighed. "I had no idea it would be so exceptionally dull, Éomer!"
Éomer burst out laughing.
The other man did not seem inclined to do likewise. "I have not been on a good, long ride for nearly three months. There is only so much work involved in overseeing the readiness of the stables, and I even tried offering to assist Garwyn with her housekeeping duties, but she seemed insulted that I would even suggest such a thing."
Éomer, still laughing, reached out and clapped the man affectionately on the shoulder. "If these are the greatest woes that peacetime brings us, I should be very grateful, Éothain, would you not agree?"
His friend shook his head and gave a wistful sigh. "Of course, Your Highness. But might I advise sending for your halfling friends soon? They provide unparalleled amusement."
"I would with all my heart, my friend, I fear they have been forced to sacrifice the carefree life for that of unexpected responsibility, much like yourself."
"Poor souls," Éothain said, mournfully.
"I am not reassigning you, Éothain," Éomer said pointedly.
"Very well, Sire."
"How is the queen?" Éomer asked then. He voiced the question lightly, but within he was burning with curiosity. He worried over Lothíriel. Since her recovery, she'd quietly and industriously begun taking over her new duties in managing the household. To Éomer's approval, she assumed her role with authority, not allowing herself to be intimidated by Garwyn, Éothain's wife, who heretofore had been acting as housekeeper since Éowyn's departure. The woman tended to be a little overbearing at times, and as she was five years Lothíriel's senior and had become quite comfortable in the position, he'd worried that the inevitable tension might cause an upheaval. If Lothíriel was having any problems in this arena, however, she had not confided in him, and he got the feeling it was the kind of problem she'd want to work out on her own, anyway.
Yet for all that, she remained a stranger.
It was Garwyn whom Éomer and Éothain encountered first when they crossed the threshold into the Golden Hall. Instantly, she set the basket of washing she'd been carrying down on the floor and bowed. "Welcome home, my Lord."
"Garwyn," Éomer returned with a brisk nod. He looked around. "Where is the queen?"
"She is taking inventory of goods and supplies and arranging them to her liking," Garwyn said levelly, though Éomer noted a slight stiffness in her jaw at the latter words. "She has been since yesterday morning."
At that moment, Lothíriel herself stepped carefully into the room, also laden with laundry, trying not to trip over the ever-present Froilas, who dashed around her into the hall and immediately began bounding all over Éomer, barking joyfully.
"My Lord Éomer," greeted Lothíriel, in her usual gentle manner. "I did not know you had returned. Emeí," she said, turning to the girl just behind her, "run and see that a bath is drawn up for the king."
Éomer straightened from petting the hound. "That won't be necessary," he said, then offered a grin. "It's far too hot. I'll clean up in the river before supper this evening."
It was the first time since her arrival that Lothíriel's face reflected anything but carefully placed serenity. She seemed surprised. "As you wish, my Lord," she said after a moment, her eyes flicking briefly up and down his riding gear, dusty and grimy from the road. Her valiant attempt to hide her disapproval was almost comical. She shook herself a little. "Would you care for any refreshment, then? We've already had dinner, but I'm sure that something could be prepared for you now. Garwyn?" she added, looking over at the other woman.
"Yes, my lady," Garwyn replied, nodding curtly.
Éomer allowed himself to be fretted over, enjoying the cold mutton and ale, and telling a politely attentive Lothíriel the details of his journey, the land dispute, and the results. She offered similar experiences her father had dealt with over the years. When he finished, he took his leave to the river, deciding to partake in the promised bath before the sun got too low, after which he was cloistered away for the inevitable meetings with his advisors until supper.
It was an exhausting day, and certainly the last thing Éomer expected that evening was a timid knock on his chamber door as he prepared himself for bed. Even more unexpected was Lothíriel's slight form slipping diffidently through at his bidding. She clutched her thin summer robe over her body, and she moved very uncertainly.
"Lothíriel?" he prompted softly, after she'd stood there for a few long moments, staring in discomfort at the floor.
"My lord, it has been some weeks since we were married," she began awkwardly. Her voice trembled, but she plunged bravely on. "I am quite recovered from my illness, but you have not requested my presence at night, and I wasn't certain—" here she trailed off, flushing slightly.
Éomer had to admire her courage. Certainly this matter had crossed his mind, but the invisible walls Lothíriel still maintained around herself set him ill at ease. The circumstances of their strange wedding had, of course, prevented a wedding-night consummation, and Éomer had been hard pressed to decide if this was a blessing or a curse. He'd known all along the situation would be awkward, particularly for Lothíriel, and he hadn't wanted to pressure, but it would have been difficult to gracefully extricate themselves from the traditional duties of such a night. On the other hand, perhaps such a scenario would have been the easiest and swiftest way to overcome the obstacle. In any case, there was nothing to be done about it now. Fate, it seemed, had chosen the harder road.
He stepped up to her and studied her thoughtfully. Already songmakers in Rohan had written tributes, praising the beauty and grace of their new queen, likening her to many elven maidens of legend. Éomer understood that her presence here was an offering—compliant and dutiful, and that he had every right as her husband and her king to accept and partake. He very much longed to do so. Her hair, soft and straight and raven black, gleamed on her shoulders and beckoned to be touched, but Éomer resisted. She still had not met his eyes, and he knew it was duty only that had brought her here.
Instead, he reached out and touched her arm gently, near the elbow, and his suspicions were confirmed by the slight stiffening of her body, though she did not shy away. "Wait until you're ready," he said after a moment, he said softly, and dropped his hand.
"My Lord, you cannot expect to wait forever," she said, this time sounding less timid and, to his surprise, a little bit stubborn and upset. "Your people will expect an heir, and I understood perfectly well when I agreed to marry you—"
"Lothíriel," he cut her off, firmly, but not unkindly. "I know," he said. "I know that. But I promised you time, and time you shall have."
She finally looked up and met his gaze, relief evident in her eyes, mingled with gratefulness and concern. "And what if I never am… ready?" she finally asked, searching him in trepidation.
He gave a small, encouraging smile. "We wait and see, I suppose." His expression sobered and he and he added softly, "But you never need fear me, Lothíriel, I promise." He took her hand and kissed it respectfully, and then stepped away, as if to reaffirm his resolve. "Goodnight."
She took a deep breath, now much more relaxed, and nodded. "Goodnight," she replied, offering another small smile of thanks before she turned and made her departure.
Éomer pondered the exchange for a long while afterward. He could only hope that time was the only thing needed to bridge the distance between them.
Replies:
Eokat- The wedding was imminent and didn't even end up being on screen. LOL Hope you're still enjoying.
smor- He most certainly does! There's some hidden switch inside Lothíriel he just needs to figure out how to activate and everything will fall into place, I'm sure. ;-)
lsoa- You're perfectly welcome. More flashbacks forthcoming. Hopefully more in-depth than the vague ideas I have in my head just now… hehe.
Kyae- Yes, a sense of purpose is really what's been driving Lothíriel all along. Spacepirate- I hope by now your computer woes have been set at bay. Thank you for your encouraging and continuous feedback.
Tracey- I was glad for the wording of your review, because it very nicely summarizes Lothíriel's conflict. My fear throughout this story is that she's coming of as mercurial and wishy-washy, when in reality, there's a furious war going on inside her between two essential parts of her character, poor girl. But she'll get it sorted out eventually. LOL
Lirima Tindomiel- (raises hand) I was one of those people, haha. Reconciling the age difference has been a pain, but strangely rewarding. And inserting either children or adorable animals into a story is always a good way to provide levity. :-D
Terreis- Haha. As you can see, all did not exactly go well with Lothíriel for her wedding. I am cruel and evil, I know. As for Éomer, he is still being his larger than life wonderful self. Honestly, I think I might be writing him a little too idealistically, but the nice thing about writing LotR is that I can always point to Tolkien's templates and be justified in getting away with it. Mwuahaha.
Blue Eyes at Night- Thanks! I don't have a dog, myself, though we had a very sweet golden retriever for a long time before she died. She was much more docile than Froilas, however. :-P
Angel St. Mathew- No, it's not the end, although with my long absence I'm sure you assumed so. Heh. In any case, thanks for the review!
estelle3974- Thank you! I very much appreciate your 'delurking' for my story. I'm glad you've been enjoying yourself, and hope you continue reading.
Amariel- Thanks! I enjoy writing character-driven stories, but they can be exhausting sometimes. Hope you stick around!
A/N:- Well! I apologize profusely for the delay. I know I said it might be a little bit longer than usual, but even I didn't anticipate the entire month. Thank you for your patience. Again, writing will be a bit slower than it was in the beginning, but I already have ideas for the next chapter, so it should, at least, be up sooner than this one was. :-P On that note, sorry it's so short, but it accomplished its purpose within the larger tale, so I stopped writing. LOL
And believe me when I tell you that I thought Lothíriel was just as crazy as the rest of you are thinking in this scene. Is she nuts!?! ;-)
Until next time, love those reviews! You guys are awesome readers!
Saché