Chapter 6-Can It Be True?

It was possibly the greatest lunch she ever ate. It had been a long time since she had been so treated in Minas Tirith. And the sight of the handsome man across from her made her heart take flight. He smiled at her occasionally but she avoided his gaze as best as she could so not to draw heat to her cheeks.

When the meal was over she went out onto the citadel with her brother's cloak about her shoulders. She couldn't help but feel that flutter in her heart as she stood near the edge of the high towering viewpoint looking down on the city she knew from her childhood. The rest of the day she would stand there looking out, or so it felt, for she didn't want to leave ever again.

At that moment she was shocked out of relaxation as a proud strong voice came from behind her. The breeze was perfect and his voice matched it, giving her chills.

"Reminiscing, my lady?"

"Something like that," she said with her eyes held tightly shut. A smile played on her lips though. His voice was so calming, and the longer she kept her eyes closed the less time she had to stare at him. She hated embarrassing herself and it seemed that it was impossible not to when he was around. He was so amazing attractive. His looks made her heart pump and her blood race. When she first saw him that morning she couldn't believe he was actually the King. Kings were not supposed to look like that. He was like a dream. She could feel her blood pumping now as he stood behind her at a fair distance. His presence was haunting to her senses. She wondered what he smelt like and what he tasted like, but she opened her eyes before she could imagine anymore. Her thoughts were all lustful, not genuine.

"This is my favorite place in all of the city," she said trying to take her mind off of the thoughts that played around in her brain.

"Yes, it is quite beautiful. It reminds me of the day Aragorn was crowned. The whole city was up here. I stood just up there," he said pointing behind him toward the door, "I got a perfect view of everything."

Lothiriel seemed to have stopped talking. Éomer was about to ask her what was wrong when she asked, "you were here when he was crowned?"

"Yes, I fought in all the battles, that is where I lost my uncle and came to my title." he lowered his tone a little. She seemed to have noticed, but she was far too preoccupied with her own thoughts.

"Would you excuse me, my lord?" she asked, which surprised him.

"Of course, my lady."

She then left the citadel and entered the great hall in much haste.

"Yes he was here," said her brother Elphir impatiently. Lothiriel had been asking the same question over and over again always adding 'are you sure?'

"What is the matter, sister?"

"It's just…" she paused wondering whether she should reveal her secret to her brother, "I was just curious of his part in the story of the war." She panted and rubbed her head. She was quite nervous, but she decided recalling the whole story to her brother would be a bad idea. Instead she excused herself from her brother's company and went in to find the Queen. She always seemed to know exactly what to say to Lothiriel when she was unsure of something. She had become a great friend and a trusted one for she was quiet and her many years had taught her tact along with a lot of other things. She rushed out of the hall just as quickly as she had come into it. Elphir asked her where she was going but she just waved him off.

Her father passed her on her way and he began to speak but found it quite impossible.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"Elsewhere." That was the only answer he got and he began to wish he had a calmer daughter.

Éomer was just about to go take a nap when Aragorn ran into him and asked for his presence in a meeting.

"My advisors can get to be too much to stand. I just wish to have someone to converse with if I get too bored. Also, if we have time I would really like to discuss some trade agreements with you."

"You mean they would like to discuss it."

He smiled, "you never miss a beat, do you, my friend?"

So that was how Éomer found himself in the middle of the most boring meeting of his life. He was so tired and so bored that within seconds he found himself asleep. He was taken into dreamland again, but this time he didn't return to the land of the night before. He found himself in the houses of healing looking down on his sister. She had been in this state for some time, and it crushed his heart to see her lying in a bed hanging on to life. He felt so guilty that he had not been there to pick her up when she fell down. Instead it had been Imrahil. He gained Éomer's respect immediately.

The air in the room seemed stifling. He couldn't take it anymore; he was out of bed and in the hallway in a second. He started walking the hallway but it didn't seem to work. He still felt the pain of his sisters wound in his heart. The cries of the people in the rooms only made life more difficult. He felt his heart sink as he walked down the hall to find Imrahil. He knew he was near by for he had led many of his own men into beds. He was in a rush until one moment stopped him in his tracks. He heard the most terrifying sound, like an angel was crying. He stopped toward the open door to his left. When he peered in he knew it was true. An angel was crying over a dark haired man. She raised her eyes to see him in the doorway, and that look almost pierced his heart.

"Who are you? Do you come to mock my grief?"

"No, lady. I heard your voice and I feared an angel was dying."

"Have no fear, there are no angels here."

"I could argue, my lady." She looked on the same as she had, with a stone cold face. It reminded him of Éowyn. He didn't understand why but he sat down in the doorway just watching her. He felt like she needed someone right now, and he knew that he needed someone. The man in the bed was very pale. His hands were clasped on his chest and his forehead sweat profusely. He was a very good-looking man and he wondered what the man meant to her. He knew better than to ask, though.

"What happened to him?" he asked quietly.

She snapped her head up and for the first time looked at him in horror, "he participated in your war games, that is what happened. He left home and came to fight in a battle of numbers rather than skill. He was a terrific swordsman."

"He was?"

"You cannot fight without arms, my lord." she looked down and indicated the tied nightshirts that were shorter than most peoples arms. He downcast his eyes and apologized.

"What is his name?"

"Beorn. He is my fiancée." she fell into a fit of tears and he crossed the distance to hold her. As he held her close he tugged tightly upon her arms trying to squeeze the cry out of her. It started to work as her crying fit settled and then he made the worst mistake imaginable. He looked into those deep pools she called eyes. They shined in the deepest blue, and held so much sadness he wanted to heal her immediately. He felt himself getting closer to her, but he was too busy staring at her to concentrate on what he was doing. All of a sudden she had placed her lips upon his and they were passionately kissing. The sensation was overwhelming to their senses. Both felt healed in that instant as they thought of their loved ones. In that moment they felt more love than they had ever known they could possess. If the world ended tomorrow at least both would know what it truly meant to feel love of the strongest degree – compassion.

They both swore silently to themselves that they would never forget this moment. Then he stroked her hair and began to walk out of the room. He turned back one last time and smiled at the young girl before going back to his sister.

The dream wore away and Éomer opened his eyes. This time he did not forget, though. He sighed and shifted a little in his seat. He realized he was sitting on a hard wood chair. He was too distracted to notice, though. He couldn't believe what he had seen.

"Lothiriel…" he whispered to the wind.

"Éomer…are you alright?" it was Aragorn who spoke his name but as he raised himself up he saw the eyes of all the advisors to the King of Gondor. They all seemed to be chuckling to themselves.

"Éomer?"

"Yes, I am fine."

"You are very loud when you sleep, you know that?"

Éomer's heart sank. Oh tell me they didn't hear my words, he thought to himself. "Am I?"

"Yes, you are." he added with a laugh, "You snored almost the entire time."

"Snoring?"

"Yes, now if you would excuse us we are going to wrap up the session."

"Yes, sir. I will be right on my way."

He took a walk out of the hall fidgeting as he did so. Oh Princess, he thought, how could I have forgotten your face?