A/N: Tomorrow's going to be a busy day, so I'm going to go ahead and post this chapter a bit early.
Chapter 5
They had stalled as long as they could, and the group was at last on their way to Minas Tirith. Both Faramir and Eowyn accompanied them, since Faramir had business with the king also and Eowyn wanted to spend as much time with her brother as she could before he returned home.
Despite considerations that they take two days for the trip, Lothiriel had assured them she preferred to press on and get it over with rather than dragging it out. She was weary, and likely sore yet again, but grateful to not be faced with more riding once she had dismounted at the end of the day.
Predictably, Lord Gamulf hastened to greet them as soon as they arrived, but Eowyn had sent word on ahead to Queen Arwen of the situation regarding Eomer's adviser, and the Elf-woman was a ready co-conspirator with Eowyn and Lothiriel. Eomer was immediately whisked away by the king while everyone else settled in, and Gamulf was forced to wait for another attempt to corner his monarch. What he did not realize was that the three women were rather enjoying the idea of playing cat-and-mouse with him, and each had been thinking up ways to run interference in Eomer's behalf.
With her knowledge of the Steward's residence, Lothiriel had arranged for Gamulf to be put in a guest room there, explaining she did not know the new king of Gondor well enough to impose on him with an unexpected guest. As a visiting king, however, Elessar had naturally housed Eomer in the King's House. While somewhat annoyed by the need for these arrangements, Eowyn understood the problem, and she had spent enough time in Minas Tirith to get around easily and quickly, so she felt certain she could still see a good deal of her brother.
Their arrival in late afternoon left little time for much before supper. Elessar kept it simple, including only the traveling party and, reluctantly, Gamulf. Arwen's seating arrangements, however, left the two men quite a distance apart, and when the meal seemed to be concluding, Arwen spirited Eomer away on some pretense before Gamulf could lay claim to him. When she returned alone, and he inquired after the king, he was told that Eomer had mentioned being weary and presumably retired for the evening.
Had King Elessar not made it plain that he would brook no talk of business on this occasion, Gamulf might have lingered, but instead he excused himself and returned to his room to prepare his reports for the king. Once he was definitely gone, Arwen dispatched a servant and Eomer miraculously reappeared, apparently having changed his mind about turning in.
Over the next few days, since Gondor's king did not invite him into any of his meetings with Eomer, Gamulf was unable to gain the access he desired. However, Faramir, getting into the spirit of things, organized a barrage of meetings for the man, with just about every pompous nobleman in the city. So, for the next week, Eomer saw little of his chief adviser during the daytime hours.
Evenings were trickier, but Lothiriel and her brothers had become acquainted with numerous back stairways and concealed servants entrances throughout the Steward's house and the King's house, courtesy of their cousins, so that with only a little effort, an alternate route could be taken when necessary. Still, meals and feasts were problematic. The truly amazing thing about Lord Gamulf was his steadfast focus on work regardless of the setting, and he never appeared to notice that not everyone shared his enthusiasm for political and economic discussions in all their social gatherings.
At least at the society get-togethers, Eomer had dancing to fall back on as an escape from a dull conversation, not to mention his feeling 'obligated' to visit around the room rather than limit himself to a single group. There was no dearth of ladies who wished to dance with the handsome king, though most were so empty-headed and vain he found their company almost as wearing as Gamulf's was.
Working in his favor, though, was Lothiriel of Dol Amroth. She seemed to have an almost innate sense of when he had about reached his tolerance limit. When that happened, she would suddenly appear at his side, smile disarmingly and before he knew it they were on the dance floor. Half the time he wasn't even certain he had asked her to dance, but when she put in appearance, he seemed to assume she was there to rescue him. On the worst evenings, she even managed to help him slip out a side exit and get a bit of fresh air in a garden behind the Hall of Feasts.
After three nights of this, he made it a point to thank her again for all she had done to help him. With a grin, he added, "You did not exaggerate your influence, even in Mundburg!"
Her puzzled expression made him laugh. "Sorry! Minas Tirith. In Rohan, we call this place Mundburg."
She smiled in comprehension. "I told you I was committed to freeing you. I did not make that promise lightly, my lord!"
He groaned. "Please, call me Eomer. I am sick to death of 'my lord' everywhere I go. Or even worse, 'your majesty'." He sighed. "Some days I truly do wish I could go back to just being 'Eomer', or even 'Third Marshal Eomer'."
Lothiriel nodded understandingly, then shrugged. "We are who we are, Eomer. Wishing will not change that. But that is not to say we cannot make the best of our situation, such as we are doing now."
Chuckling, he answered, "I suppose so. Certainly walking in a garden in the moonlight with a lovely lady is better than enduring Gamulf, or most of the Gondorian nobility either, for that matter. I cannot rue the day I met you."
At his words, she blushed, finally only murmuring, "Thank you."
He turned to look at her, smiling fondly, but his breath caught in his throat. How had he never noticed how lovely she was, and so very different than the women on the prowl inside the feast hall? She was completely guileless, despite her royal heritage, and suddenly it pained him to think Imrahil would marry her off some day to one of those simpering nobles or their sons. Or worse yet, he thought, recalling Imrahil's behavior at Emyn Arnen, would be so protective he never let her go to find a life of her own.
He had become lost in his thoughts, and though he was essentially staring at her, she kept silent and did not press him to talk. The moonlight on her dark hair gave it a silvery appearance, and her face was lit just enough to see her gentle eyes and smiling lips. His stomach lurched at the sight. Suddenly he very much wanted to taste those lips.
His hands came up to her shoulders as he took a step toward her. There was nothing but trust in her countenance, and he was not even certain she yet realized the effect she was having on him, or what he was intending to do. Watching carefully for any sign of reticence, his hands slipped around to her back and pulled her closer into his embrace as he lowered his mouth to hers. Just before he brushed his lips lightly over hers, he saw surprise in her eyes, but no reluctance. Instead, her hands had come up to his hips and that was sufficient encouragement for him to kiss her again, more firmly and lingeringly than before, and tentatively she responded.
To his very great annoyance, the moment was interrupted. A voice called out, "Eomer?" He knew that voice all too well; it was his sister, and she would not simply go away if he chose not to answer.
"Yes, Eowyn?" he called, taking a step away from Lothiriel and releasing her.
Following the sound of his voice in the darkness, Eowyn approached, giving no indication whether or not she had seen them kissing. "Prince Imrahil is looking for Lothiriel. I believe he wishes to retire for the night and expects her to do the same."
In a rather husky voice, Lothiriel commented, "It would seem you will have to fend for yourself if you wish to remain at the feast longer, my lord."
He was disappointed. Why had she so readily reverted to formality with him? So Eowyn would not suspect what they had been doing? Force of habit? Either way, it was not the response he would have liked. She had seemed to enjoy the kiss when it was happening, but now he was not so certain.
Pulling his attention back to the two women in front of him, he offered each an arm and silently guided them back inside.
xxxxx
Eomer lay awake a long while that night, reflecting on what had happened in the garden. He wasn't entirely sure why Lothiriel's indifferent response had shaken him so much. He wasn't so arrogant as to expect every woman to fall at his feet, but…she HAD seemed to enjoy the kiss. That was what he found so confusing. Did she not understand what it meant? Was she truly that naïve? Or did she find it pleasant, but still had no feelings for him, and so had dismissed it as unimportant? And, for that matter, what had it meant?
Until that moment in the moonlight, he had never looked at her with any kind of passion. He was not certain but what he hadn't even subconsciously been thinking of her as a sister. When their lips had met, he knew he had crossed over some sort of line and there was no going back. Even now, just lying here and thinking about her, he wanted her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her again…oh, did he want to kiss her again! And nothing so chaste and polite as he had done this evening.
Imrahil's words to him at Emyn Arnen, came back to him now. What did that mean? Should he just go back to Rohan and forget about a doe-eyed lady with a lilting laugh, or should he.… He rubbed his hand wearily over his face. He would find no answers tonight. The first thing he needed to do was talk to Lothiriel. Unless she was feeling the same sort of things he was, perhaps it was pointless to even be worrying about this. Imrahil certainly wasn't likely to give her up to Eomer if she did not wish it. Only if she loved him also could he hope to make her his wife.
Wife! Eomer sat bolt upright in bed. Where had that thought come from? He'd only kissed her once, for pity's sake! But even as he acknowledged that fact, he could not deny that he did want to claim Lothiriel as his wife. She had made him feel alive again, after too long of feeling like one of the walking dead. She made him laugh and smile and, for a very brief time, forget all his troubles. Wasn't that what Eothain had said? Someone to stand beside him and make him forget his cares at the end of the day?
Slowly he laid back down, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. Yes, clearly he needed to talk to Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, and see if they were in agreement about what they wanted.
xxxxx
Having missed out on sleep the night before, Eomer would have expected to be in a foul mood the next morning, but it was not so. He was eager to find Lothiriel and discuss things with her. His cheerful disposition rapidly deteriorated, starting over breakfast. Elessar had already scheduled several meetings for that day. He was on the verge of begging off, asking his friend to postpone things for a time, when Elessar's chamberlain announced the arrival of the first group to be met with.
It went downhill from there. He was swept from meeting to meeting, and kept so busy there was little time to think, much less get Aragorn aside and plead his cause.
By the time supper was served that night, Eomer was straining at the bit in his eagerness to at last see Lothiriel and find a few moments to speak with her.
Every time he tried to make his way over to her during the course of the evening, however, someone waylaid him and she was lost to sight. Just as he would locate her once more and start in that direction, another interruption would occur.
Finally – finally – he managed to reach her side and suggest they go for a walk in the garden, right as the feast was winding down and most celebrants departing. Just as they approached the garden gate, however, a voice behind them called out, "Eomer, Lothiriel? Would you come inside, please. I must speak with Eomer in private."
It was Imrahil, and Eomer thought it wise to comply with the request, given the circumstances. Lothiriel gave him a warm, unsuspecting smile and returned to the feast hall to say her goodnights before retiring, while Eomer and her father adjourned to a small antechamber.
As Eomer closed the door and turned toward his friend, the Prince got straight to the point.
"Stay away from my daughter, Eomer," Imrahil growled threateningly. "She is not for you. She belongs in Gondor with her family, not off in Rohan."
Eomer's jaw tightened. "Imrahil, I assure you I have done nothing inappropriate with your daughter."
"That is not the point! The point is she belongs here. I do not want her tempted to have feelings for you, and we both know that women find you attractive. She is too young and too inexperienced to know any better. Therefore, it is up to me to protect her. This is my final word on the matter!" With that, he turned abruptly on his heel and strode out.
Eomer watched him with narrowed eyes, then angrily kicked a nearby chair, inflicting more injury on his foot than the furniture. He paced agitatedly back and forth across the floor for some time, trying to think of a resolution to this problem, but was too angry for clear thought. At last, he hastened from the room and went to find Eothain. It was evident that his friend was just turning in for the night, but he ignored that as he instructed, "We leave at first light. Have the men packed and ready to go. I will notify Lord Gamulf, if he wishes to accompany us."
Before Eothain could question him on this sudden decision, Eomer was halfway down the hall. Something was greatly amiss here, but he doubted he would get any answers tonight. Reluctantly he pulled his clothes back on, and made his way to inform the men.
Lothiriel was up very early the next morning, and was therefore startled to find Lord Gamulf making his way down the hall behind two servants carrying his belongings. "Lord Gamulf? You are leaving us?" she asked with surprise.
He looked ill at ease as he replied, "Yes. I received word from the king late last night that we would be departing this morning at first light. I am unsure why the sudden change in plans. I had not thought he intended to return for at least another week."
Eomer was leaving? Why had he said nothing to her, even to say goodbye? This seemed most peculiar. "May I walk you out and see you off?" she offered, though he was hardly the reason for the question.
Graciously he accepted her company, and they made for the front entrance.
Just after dawn, Eomer appeared in the courtyard where the Rohirrim were gathered awaiting him. He came to a stop by Eothain, his face still a mask of anger, and asked curtly, "Are we ready?"
Eothain nodded. "We only await Lord Gamulf. He should be joining us momentarily." There was a pause, and then Eothain ventured, "You have said your goodbyes, then, to King Elessar and to the Prince and his family?"
If anything, Eomer's face became more rigid and his glower intensified. "I sent word to Elessar that we would be leaving. He will see that it is made known."
Not a direct answer to his question, but one that made evident a possible reason for this sudden exit from Minas Tirith. If Eothain wasn't very much mistaken, this had something to do with Imrahil...and, therefore, possibly Lothiriel also.
At that moment, Lord Gamulf put in appearance from the direction of the Steward's house, accompanied by said lady, and Eothain snuck a glance at his king. It was clear that Eomer had not expected to see her before leaving, and did not want to do so. Eothain stepped forward, nodding to Lothiriel as he steered Gamulf to his horse and the servants to where his baggage would be packed.
Lothiriel made a mental note to thank the soldier, but for the moment, her attention was focused on Eomer, who would not meet her gaze. Stepping up to him, she asked softly, "Is this how you would take your leave of me? Sneaking away without saying goodbye?"
For just an instant, some emotion flitted over his features, but then they returned to their clouded state as he finally looked at her. "It was unavoidable. Something has come up that requires my immediate departure."
It was plain that he did not intend to elaborate further, and Lothiriel quelled the pain fighting to rise in her chest and the tears that pricked her eyes. Forcing a bright smile, she nodded. "Of course, my lord. I wish you safe journey." She gave a polite curtsy and moved away from him.
Eomer was startled by her reaction, though he could not think why he hadn't expected her to behave with utter decorum. "Lothiriel..." he started, then checked himself. Thinking better of it, he altered course and only said, "Goodbye. Thank you for all you did for me while I was visiting."
It was said in the politest manner, concealing any shade of feeling that might exist behind the words. She responded in kind. "You are most welcome, my lord. It was an honor to be of service to Rohan's king."
For some reason, her words stung him, and Eomer turned abruptly away to mount his horse. Moments later, the company rode out and Lothiriel stood alone on the steps of the Citadel watching them go. She was still there long after they were gone from sight, and that is where Faramir found her a short time later.
"Thiri? What has happened? A servant just told me Eomer's party has left."
She nodded resolutely. "It is true. I do not know their reason. Eomer said only that something had come up that required it. He would not explain further."
Faramir didn't miss the toneless quality of her voice as she relayed this information. Something was dreadfully wrong here. He reached for her, but she stepped hastily away from him before she could no longer check the tears. "I will see you at breakfast, cousin." She strode rapidly away from him and, for the moment, Faramir thought perhaps it was better to leave her alone.
From an upstairs window of the king's quarters, Elessar watched the proceedings in the courtyard below with an unreadable expression. Eomer had left a note with his valet last night, but the man had suspected it might be sufficiently important to make Elessar aware of it sooner rather than later. The note gave no real reason for Eomer's abrupt leaving, but watching the young king just now with Lothiriel and their stiff manner, he very much suspected that it somehow was connected with her. What had happened to alter the situation so suddenly? He had observed them many times since their arrival from Emyn Arnen, and there was little doubt in his mind that the two of them cared for each other, possibly even loved one another. If that was so, then why would... Imrahil. That was the only reasonable answer. More and more he had seen the Prince watching the couple together, but he had attributed the look in his eyes to being nothing more than fatherly concern for a daughter. There must be more to it than that. Perhaps it was time for him to involve himself in the matter. But first he needed more information...