By the time Lothíriel and the physician allowed Éomer freedom within his own hall, the final days of August were upon them. The fields were thick and golden under the heat of the sun, and the whole country seemed to anticipate the forthcoming harvest with grateful enthusiasm.
On the first day Éomer resumed court, the assembly was interrupted by the entrance of Éothain, who drew near the dais with an eager smile. He gave a brief bow, and then addressed Éomer's expectant face. "Two riders approach from the north, my lord. Borne on a single steed." His grin widened. "It is Master Gimli, my lord, and the elven prince with him."
Éomer was immediately on his feet. "These are glad tidings indeed, Éothain. Come, let us greet them," he called loudly, looking around the hall, an unspoken signal that the affairs of court were adjourned for the day. Many followed Éomer out the doors to observe the approach of their famous guests. This was done more slowly than he might normally have accomplished, but his ribs were still slightly tender with healing.
By this time, the dwarf and the elf had nearly reached the gates of Edoras, riding, as ever, together upon the back of faithful Arod. For a moment, Éomer cast his mind back to those fateful, whirlwind weeks of war and unexpected encounters, and the day he'd first met Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. What a blessing the three strangely-clad foreigners had proven to be, appearing out of nowhere against all hope!
"They will, perhaps, have news of my lady Éowyn," said Lothíriel quietly at his side, looking over with a smile.
Éomer nodded. "Aye, 'tis possible. Though we know not for certain where their recent travels have taken them."
Legolas waved a brief greeting as Arod reached foot of the Golden Hall, then dismounted as lithely as any son of Rohan. He handed the reins to a waiting rider, and everyone did their best to politely ignore Gimli's slightly less graceful dismount, though Éomer noted that his skills had uncommonly improved in the last year. Still, he was probably the only person who detected Lothíriel's small, subdued chuckle beside him. He met her eyes briefly, and they shared an amused smile.
Gimli was still brushing dust from his armor in a very pompous manner when Legolas bowed with all the poise of his race. "Hail, Éomer, son of Éomund, King of the Riddermark," he said formally.
The dwarf was not so polite. He looked up sharply. "Éomer, have you not heard of roads in Rohan?"
"We have a few, Master Gimli," Éomer replied, "but they are not of dwarvish making, so I wager they would not be to your liking."
Gimli's reply was a gruff hmpph. "Perhaps that can be remedied," he conceded. His bright black eyes twinkled behind the shadow of his beard and helmet.
The two friends climbed the short staircase to join the royals atop. Lothíriel stepped forward and curtseyed deeply and gracefully. "Welcome once more to Edoras, my lords," she said, smiling. "Our hall is always honored by your presence."
"The queen of Rohan is as fair as the flowers of morning," Legolas replied, bowing deeply once more. When he rose, he added, "We bring greetings, lady, of your family." He looked at Éomer. "And of yours as well, Éomer."
"We also come with a request," Gimli added. "Or rather, I do."
"Of what nature is this request?" Éomer asked, as the party turned to head indoors.
"All in good time, laddie."
Lothíriel did not at first linger much in conversation, instead hustling off to supervise the ordering of a special banquet for their guests, while Éomer whiled away the afternoon in deep conversation with his two friends, first in the hall and later on a tour about Edoras in order to keep out of Lothíriel's way as she and the other ladies made their preparations. Their talk ranged from reminisces of the past, to the sharing of news, to mutual hopes and plans for the future. Though they hadn't seen her for at least a month, Legolas and Gimli assured Éomer that Éowyn was well and happy.
"I don't know that I've ever seen anyone so lovesick as Faramir," Gimli confessed. He paused, thinking hard, then added, "Well, Aragorn, maybe, but with him there's not the insufferable newness."
Remembering Éowyn and Faramir at their wedding, Éomer privately agreed.
The sun was making its downward journey when supper was served— a table laden with generous presentations of pork and beef, savory sauces, and the best-aged ale. After Gimli and Legolas and raised a glass to honor her table, Lothíriel finally took the chance to inquire after her family, whereupon they brought forth another surprise—letters. Éomer wasn't quite sure how many they handed his wife, but there were three for him, as well. One each from Faramir and Éowyn, and one from Aragorn.
Gimli expressed to Éomer his request—permission to explore thoroughly and deeply the caves of Helm's Deep. "My kinsmen would be highly interested in such an untapped treasure trove," he informed Éomer with eager eyes. We could fashion it into realm of greatness, a credit and landmark of Rohan. It may even be possible to construct a passage through the mountain, a new road to the south."
"That would be greatly beneficial indeed, Master Gimli," remarked Éomer, raising his eyebrows appreciatively. He looked at Lothíriel. "A swifter route to Dol Amroth."
She smiled. "A thing greatly to be desired, Sire."
"Well, I cannot make any promises, of course," Gimli said, backing down slightly from his enthusiasm with a nervous laugh. "But the princeling here has a promise to fulfill. I shall not let him shirk it. Especially not as I have held up my end of the bargain."
"Which would be a mightily grievous affair," Éomer agreed. "But certainly you have my permission. If nothing else, I hope your exploration will be to your enjoyment. Please advise me of any supplies or resources of Rohan you may require in your quest."
"Some strong rope, a steady torch, and a sharp pickax, Éomer. Those are the only tools of a true prospector."
"My only request in return," Éomer said, "is your discretion. If you should find something of great value, I would not have it cause a sensation amongst he people of Rohan before I have a chance to decide how to proceed."
"Not to mention other realms around," Lothíriel added quietly. Éomer did not look at her, but nodded with knowing agreement.
The after-dinner hour was filled with song and tale, both from host and guest. Lothíriel, of course, sang for the company, as did Legolas. As the evening grew more boisterous, Gimli told a legend of his homeland that had all Éomer's men laughing liberally, and by the end of the night, the story of Éomer's recent indisposition was also told, much exaggerated, of course, and seemed to Gimli even funnier than all the rest.
Lothíriel remained awake longer than her ladies, but it wasn't long after that she too retired, more of a desire to read her letters than weariness, Éomer knew, but she was also certainly very tired after such an exciting day. He found himself also tiring, but obligation did not permit him to pursue his bed as politely as his wife.
At length, Legolas seemed to perceive the king's need for rest. He pointed it out and suggested they all go to bed, which they did—all the while Gimli continuing to delightfully tease Éomer about his recent injuries.
It felt like Éomer had just closed his eyes when he was awaken by the low, urgent voice of Legolas. "One of the village homes is on fire," the elf said urgently, and left as quietly as he'd undoubtedly entered.
In an instant, Éomer was very much awake, thanking the gods that Legolas had been here, for he knew the elf rarely required sleep. He was not surprised to see Lothíriel in the corridor as he rushed out of the room, pulling a shirt on over his head as he went.
"What is wrong?" she asked urgently. "Legolas told me I needed to awaken." Behind her, Emeí stood likewise, gazing at Éomer fearfully.
"Fire," he replied grimly, "in the village. We must hurry. Prevent it from spreading."
Lothíriel's eyes widened. She turned to Emeí. "Awaken Gaerwyn," she instructed. "We need to gather bandages and poultices for burns." The girl nodded and hurried off.
"I must raise Éothain," Éomer said urgently.
Lothíriel nodded, but held out a hand on his arm to pause him. "Be careful, Éomer," she entreated softly, concern in her eyes. Then she released him.
By the time Éomer reached the site of the fire—several of his men on his heels— much had already been accomplished. Two trains of villagers were hard at work getting water not only to the blazing house, but also frantically wetting down the thatch and walls of its nearest neighbors.
Suddenly, Gimli was at his side, seeming to melt out of the shadows and writhing half-light cast by the red and yellow flames. "Candle left too close to the curtains," he explained. "Little lass didn't trim it properly, the poor tyke." He pointed. Éomer saw a woman and three trembling children standing to the side, staring mournfully at their burning home. The smaller of the two girls—she couldn't have been more than six summers— had a face so tear-stained that it glistened, even at this distance.
"Delfas," Éomer called to one of his men, "gather whatever livestock survived. House them in our stables for tonight, then hurry back."
"Yes, my lord."
Éomer approached the small family. "Éomer King," said the woman bravely, nodding her head. It was clear that her attention was much more filled with concern for her house than of the presence of her sovereign. "My husband works with the others," she explained. As she spoke, the infant in her arms—perhaps nearing two years of age— began coughing, his dark eyes watering. The mother's face looked pained.
"Go to the hall," Éomer ordered kindly. "The queen will attend you. You and your family will stay with us for the night. Go quickly," he added, when the poor, frightened woman only stared back, dumbfounded. "We will finish here."
It was some time later before the blaze was finally conquered, and the tired, bedraggled villagers retreated back to their homes for food and rest. Éomer commanded those most badly burned up the hill to Lothíriel and Gaerwyn, and then ordered a day of rest the following morn, knowing some of his people took far too much pride in their farming for their own health. Still, despite the tragedy, there was a feeling of satisfaction. None of the neighboring buildings had been lost, not even the first family's stable or shed.
Lothíriel and the ladies attended burns for some time longer, while Éomer spoke with the father of the house, assuring him they would help him restore his losses, and comforting his grief. When he finally sent the man to bed— to a pallet in the solar with the rest of his family, Lothíriel had at last finished.
She approached him wearily, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. "We've nearly depleted our herbs used in treating burns," she said, "but thankfully there was enough. I shall have to see the stock is replenished soon."
"What of the family?"
"The two young girls fell asleep quickly, and have been so ever since." There was a worried look in her eyes.
"What is it?"
"The boy…" she said hesitantly. "His cough has not subsided. It has grown worse, and I do not like the sound of it. According to his mother, he was most affected by the fumes and smoke. And he is so small, Éomer, I don't—" she swallowed, and raised her eyes to him. "I don't know what to do for him. Neither does Gaerwyn. I don't think that he'll—"
Not sure what to say, Éomer hesitantly embraced her. He could sense her exhaustion, which no doubt worsened and intensified her despair. It had been a hard night. He could only sense her tears as she wept a moment, for she made no sound, and a moment later he pulled away, taking her hands between his. "Thank you for efforts," he said softly. "I am very grateful to have such a one as you, as you know I've told you."
As he pulled his hand away, his fingers brushed the ring she wore and he looked at it for a moment. It had been a couple of weeks now since chosen to wear it— the ring worn by Rohan's queen. It was strange, though, as he hadn't been the one to give it to her. He'd thought it lost—many things had been in the dark time that Wormtongue held subtle dominion over Edoras. It was good to know this was not the case, but he was reluctant to ask her why she'd chosen only now to wear it.
"Get some rest," he said softly. "Go."
He watched her depart, concerned. The night seemed uncommonly still now. Things had settled down and the subsequent silence was very loud.
"You love her very much."
Éomer was proud of himself for not jumping. "Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on a man in his own house?" he asked without turning around.
"My apologies," Legolas replied, coming from behind to stand beside him. He too looked in the direction Lothíriel had departed.
"And yes," Éomer said. "I do love her. I have for some time."
"Have patience, my friend," Legolas said sagely. He turned his head and gazed at Éomer, his eyes alight with the timeless knowledge of his kindred. "But one thing remains for her healing to be complete. Something she doesn't even realize she needs."
"And how is that supposed to help me exercise patience?"
Legolas cocked his head. "You will be the one to help her find it. It will not be long."
Éomer did not ask for any further insight into these cryptic words. He half suspected Legolas would not have known, anyway.
Replies:
Estel la Roduese- Honestly, I've always thought canon Éomer was, I dunno… tougher than mine, but thank you all the same -)
Iluvien- I actually enjoy reading bios, particularly of people who leave me reviews. LOL You'd think I'd make an effort to make mine a little more interesting as a result, but… go figure. And good gracious, don't apologize for a non multi-chapter review. I know all too well that life is busy enough. I'm just glad your reviewing the updates. And typing is easy. Writing… somewhat trickier. ;-)
lsoa- well, my research came from internet sources of other people's hard Tolkien-collecting work, but I trust it was for a good cause. LOL
Wondereye- Patience. You will see. -)
ginny- He'll kiss her eventually, I promise.
katemary77- Moving on… harder said than done, I guess. Especially for Lothíriel, apparently. Still, it's gotta happen some time!
Eokat- sometimes they seem far apart, yes, but if you think about it, that happens in marriages anyway, where the participants have already acknowledged their feelings. Or so I have observed since I'm not married. Lol -P
smor- Hmmn. Butterflies, you say? ;-)
Vera of the Woods- Yes, one would never accuse this story of rushing. In fact, I do think a person or two has complained on that end… ah well. Thank you so much for your lovely review, and don't worry, flattery is in no way dangerous to me. Um… (hides crossed fingers behind back). Hope you stick around!
Peachy Papayas- Yeah, FF.N wasn't being our friend for the last update. Everything was delayed. Glad you found your way, though, nonetheless.
Katya- (I liked the early morning mist very much, myself ;-)) I hope Éomer's thoughts about Lothíriel's ring were to your satisfaction.
Tracey- Gah! I want to see Finding Neverland so badly! Alas, I missed it in theaters. Fortunately, the video release isn't very far off (I have a friend who works in a video store). And wow, I'm on a list with Tolkien? Well, that can't be anything but cool. Thanks! And yah, Lothíriel's one lucky babe, isn't she. I kind of wish I was her, too. LOL
Blue Eyes at Night- He did notice and it does give him pause, as you can see from the preceding update.
Faerchithiel- Writer of Rohan! I love it! LOL Thanks for the review!
Lirima Tindomiel- Ah yes, I'm rather fond of kissing scenes myself, which I suppose is rather strange as I have no RL experience to draw on, but there you have it. LoL
Aikaze- (checks very deep cyber-pockets) I actually had what I call "Beru" hankies made from when I wrote a story about Beru Whitesun at the JC boards. Hmmn, maybe I should post it here, even though it's some of my earliest work and therefore overkill in the sap dept., however it seemed like every other post made someone cry. So by the end we all had Beru hankies. (hands) I have a few left over. There you go. ;-)
Jen- Thanks! Don't know about soon, but I did my best!
Alora- Well, it's not every day a girl gets complimented for excellence in non-elf fanfic. Thank you! And wow, your little phrase about anticipation. Love it. You should embroider it on something. ;-)
laurel- Lothíriel truly is doing her best, I promise. It may be difficult for us to understand, but remember she did tell Éomer this might be the case at the outset. He knew what he might be getting into. Also, it isn't true to say that Théodred didn't really know her. They had many times of getting to know one another over the years that haven't been 'on screen' so to speak. However, your point about people sometimes falling in love with the idea of love also has merit. I actually just got over a case of it myself. Don't worry, I'm not dragging out the ending deliberately. I hope you stick it out despite your frustration!
Raider-K- I'm honored to be added to your C2. Thank you! Also, thank you for your lovely compliments. 'Enchanting' is a word I've enjoyed applying to my story since your review. -)
Jazzcat- To answer your question: 'this thing' is about two thirds of the way finished, now, or so I guess. This middle part was very unclear to me, but now that I've struggled through it, the ending should come much faster, as it has always been extremely clear. Also, your reassurances about Éomer's being kicked by a horse are excessively relieving to me. Loved both your reviews; thank you so much!
esawian- Sorry about the wait!
A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry about the delay, folks. I was stuck, stuck, stuck. That's all it boils down to. I had absolutely no idea how to map my way from the ending of chapter eleven to the beginning of the final segment. So yeah. Things should go a lot more smoothly (and by translation a lot less waiting time for you) from now on.
Hope it was worth the wait!
Saché