Chapter 2

Over the next few days, Lothiriel avoided Eomer like the plague.

Not that it was difficult to do so. The man was always busy doing kingly things with busy people, which included her father, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.

However, on the third day of successfully avoiding the king of Rohan, Lothiriel's world came crashing down on her.

"What?"

It was a mild day, the sun shining after two days of light rain, and it found her sitting in her father's well-appointed study, writing a letter to her sister-in-law, Adanel. Her eldest brother, Elphir, had gone back to Dol Amroth with his family a week or so ago to oversee its affairs. Adanel, expecting their second child, had asked Lothiriel for a remedy to cure morning sickness, and so she sat writing it in a letter to be dispatched with her father's own correspondence.

At least, she had been happily writing, until her father broke the most terrible news she had ever heard.

"I think I misheard you, father." Lothiriel said, eyes wide and disbelieving. The ink seeping from her quill onto her page went unnoticed as she looked across the desk.

Her father looked quite serious as he paused in his own writing and looked back at her. He was a man well in his middle age, but he did not look it thanks to the strain of elvish and Numenorean blood in their family. Even though his dark hair had started lightening at the temples, his gray eyes were sharp and alert and his face appeared ageless with only a few wrinkles around his mouth owing to his stern nature.

"Eomer and Eowyn will be staying on with us now for as long as they remain in Minas Tirith." Her father repeated what he had said earlier, his tone very serious.

"But why?" Lothiriel blurted.

"I invited them. Arwen Undomiel's escort is expected to arrive any day now, and King Elessar needs all the room he can get to accommodate them comfortably." Her father explained. "Also, Eomer has noticed Faramir and Lady Eowyn's... attachment and he feels it improper for them to stay under the same roof, so he requested to stay here with us."

He requested it? Lothiriel felt a pressure building behind her brow, signalling the arrival of a monstrous headache.

"Are you against such an arrangement, daughter?" Her father asked, his shrewd gaze looking at her.

Yes, Lothiriel wanted to say. How am I supposed to avoid the man if we're living under the same roof?

"Of course not, why would I be?" She said instead.

"Good," her father said, picking up his quill to continue his writing, "I expect you to welcome them when they arrive. Make sure you see to their every need. I hope you'll do me proud as my daughter and the head of my household."

Lothiriel could hardly do anything but agree in the face of her father's expectations. She could tell he valued his friendship with Eomer greatly and wanted his stay to be comfortable.

"Yes, father." Lothiriel said, looking at her ink-stained letter as the impending headache finally made itself known.

Lothiriel had no time to prepare for their arrival.

Oh she did manage to arrange rooms for them (far away from her own, in Eomer's case) and figured out a satisfactory seating arrangement for meals (again, Eomer's seat was far far away), so that aspect of preparation was seen and done with.

But time to prepare herself, mentally, to the fact that Eomer would now be living under the same roof as her did not present itself to Lothiriel before the day of his arrival dawned at large.

Their things had already been moved to their new rooms. Lothiriel had chosen a room with a wide window for Eowyn, who she thought might appreciate the view and sunshine after spending some time in the Houses of Healing.

For Eomer, she had chosen the room furthest away from her own, which incidentally happened to be Elphir and Adanel's room and also the second nicest room in the whole house after her father's. Him being royalty and all, Lothiriel was sure she could explain her choice as one befitting his station, and since Elphir was back in Dol Amroth the nice room was free for the use of the King of Rohan.

Eomer and Eowyn finally arrived, accompanied by Faramir, Lothiriel's cousin. She stood in the hall waiting to greet and welcome them, standing still and keeping her face carefully blank.

"I am a princess of Dol Amroth," she muttered to herself, "I am serene, graceful and regal..."

She trailed off as her guests were finally shown in by one of her father's men. Her throat went dry as the deserts of Harad when she saw Eomer.

Valar, the man looked gorgeous.

He strode towards her with sure steps, his legs encased in black breeches and leather boots. His sword swung from a belt around his dark green tunic and surcoat, the fit of which teased at the muscled physique she knew was underneath. His long golden hair was tied back in a simple fashion, his wide mouth framed by that beard that made Lothiriel's fingertips tingle; and his eyes... they were trained on her with a familiar intensity, as if he could tell what she was thinking.

She flushed bright red as their eyes clashed. Serenity, grace and regality all but fled from her mind. The last time she saw him, she had dug herself into quite a hole. She wished she had a shovel, so she could now dig an actual hole and just lie in it, instead of having to face him and his handsome face and his piercing eyes and his muscles-.

"Lothiriel," she jumped, startled out of her thoughts by Faramir, who was looking at her in concern. "Are you well?"

She turned to him and managed a weak smile in assurance. "Yes-"

"No, I believe she might still be suffering from her illness." She was interrupted by Eomer.

She glanced towards him and caught him looking at her with a dead serious expression, except she could recognize a trace of wry amusement in his eyes. Directed at her.

"I did not know you were ill, cousin," Faramir said, taking a step towards her.

Eomer answered him, "A strange illness, but I was told it would pass soon. I believe it was called pe-"

"I'm quite recovered now, thank you for your concern." Lothiriel said quickly, a pained smile on her face. She was going to wring Miwien's neck the next time she saw her and she was going to do it very slowly.

Taking a deep breath, Lothiriel silently counted to five, before turning to her guests. Eomer was standing directly before her, with Faramir and the lady Eowyn beside him.

"Please, allow me to welcome you to our home, my lord Eomer," she said, "And Lady Eowyn. I've heard a great deal about you, my lady, and I have to say it's a pleasure to finally get to meet you." Her voice rose a bit in excitement as she turned to the white lady of Rohan.

Lothiriel had heard numerous accounts of the deeds and valour of Eowyn in the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and she had observed the closeness that had developed between the white lady and Faramir. She was happy for her cousin, and couldn't wait to know more about the lady who had captured his heart.

Lady Eowyn inclined her head at Lothiriel's welcome, her cool gaze taking in the surroundings. She was taller than Lothiriel, and looked very beautiful dressed in a cream gown with her long blonde hair hanging loose in the Rohirric fashion.

"I hope your stay is comfortable here, but if you ever need anything do not hesitate to come to me." Lothiriel continued, "I promise to accommodate and please you in any way I can."

"I'll keep that in mind, Princess." Eomer said. His face was innocently devoid of any expression, but his eyes danced at her.

Lothiriel reddened at the implication. Was he mocking her? Or testing her somehow, seeing how she would react to his deliberate goading? Thankfully, lady Eowyn spoke then, saving Lothiriel from having to answer.

"Yes, you have our thanks for your kindness and hospitality, princess Lothiriel." Eowyn said, looking between her and Eomer. Like her brother, she had the habit of keeping her face guarded and unsmiling, and Lothiriel could only guess at what she was thinking.

"Please, you must call me Lothiriel," she said.

"Then you may call me Eowyn."

Lothiriel smiled brightly at that. Already on a first name basis with the white lady, they would be friends in no time at this rate!

After the necessary introductions were made, she showed her guests to the private parlour for some light refreshments. Lothiriel tried her best to strike a conversation with Eowyn and ignore the lady's brother who, thankfully, engaged in conversation with Faramir.

Both tasks proved to be quite difficult, however, as Lothiriel found Eowyn to be surprisingly hard to talk to. The lady remained mostly quiet and seemed lost far away, her expression only softening whenever she looked at Faramir.

And ignoring Eomer proved, unsurprisingly, quite hard to do as well because the man was just so large and Lothiriel just so... aware of him. Her attraction to the man seemed larger than life itself, making her stumble through her words every time he looked at her.

He had an easy-going manner as he conversed with Faramir, and Lothiriel could not help but feel a bit envious. Never had he been like that around her. For him she was just a dear friend's daughter, someone to be polite towards for the sake of courtesy, but not worthy of interest. This was also why his comment earlier in the hall had been so perplexing. If Lothiriel didn't know any better, it almost sounded as if he had been… flirting with her.

But she did know better. So far she had not done anything to make a favorable impression on the man, far from it in fact.

Soon enough Faramir took his leave and it fell on Lothiriel to show the two Rohirric siblings to their rooms so they may rest a bit before dinner.

She lead them out of the parlour, across the entry hall and up the double staircase leading to the second floor. At the landing, they took a right leading to the east wing where the bedrooms were located.

Her father's house, located in the sixth circle of Minas Tirith, was a large and imposing building made of white stone. But the furnishings were tastefully done, chosen by Lothiriel herself, with tapestries lining the walls, plush carpets on the floor and fresh flowers and herbs artfully arranged in several vases along the hallways.

As Lothiriel lead Eowyn and Eomer to their rooms, she offered to give them a tour of the house, but both declined. Eowyn elected to stay in her room for a nap.

Eomer asked after Lothiriel's brothers, Erchirion and Amrothos, who had gone down to the lower city to help their father oversee repairs to the wall. After she had shown him to his room he left to find them.

Lothiriel did not know if she was disappointed or relieved.

The late afternoon found Lothiriel in the kitchen garden, taking out some weeds. Normally, she would have found the task relaxing, but she could hardly focus that day.

She was in a state, feeling frustrated with herself. Her mind kept going back to that day at the courtyard, and she should be feeling mortified at what Eomer had heard her say about him, considering the fact that it probably cast a poor light on her father's upbringing, a man whom Eomer counted as a dear friend.

Instead of that though, the image of a shirtless King of Rohan kept circling through her thoughts, and she was unable to shake it off. It was inconvenient and exasperating.

Nothing would ever come of it. The pull she felt towards Eomer was purely physical, and completely irrational. She hardly even knew what sort of man he was, all she knew about him she had heard from other people. And given his propensity to remain aloof in her presence, she didn't think they would develop a friendship or even an acquaintance any time soon.

For the sake of her sanity, she had to stay far away from him. It was what she and Miwien had planned anyway, and hopefully it would help lessen the attraction she felt towards him.

Yes, that's exactly what she would do. So what if he was now living in her house? She wouldn't see him much anyways. His room was far from her own so there was little chance of running into him in the hallway. And at meal times he would be sitting far from her so she wouldn't have to engage him in any conversation. And if today was any indication, Eomer would probably be spending a lot of time away from the house.

Avoiding him could yet still be done.

Satisfied, Lothiriel went back to pulling out the weeds. She had planted a lot of herbs in the garden, becoming rather enthusiastic about them after starting her apprenticeship as a healer. Most of the herbs were medicinal but quite a few could be used for cooking too. Tending the little garden had become one of Lothiriel's favorite past times, and she often came here to seek some solitude and peace.

Spotting a bit of crabgrass growing near her rosemary, Lothiriel reached for her gardening claw and brutally started digging out the pesky weed.

"Not today, fellow," she said to the weed, freely taking out all her frustrations on it. A bit of dirt went flying, splattering over her neck and she wiped at it distractedly.

"Who are you talking to?"

Lothiriel jumped at the sudden voice, pausing in her aggressive weed-pulling. She turned around to see Eowyn standing beyond the boundary of the small garden, looking just as surprised to see her.

"No one, I was just pulling out some weeds." Lothiriel wiped her hands on a cloth and stood, turning towards Eowyn.

"You were talking to a… weed?" Eowyn asked, her brow raised.

"No," Lothiriel said, looking sheepish, "I wasn't talking, I was scolding. Weeds are troublesome, you need a firm hand when dealing with them or you won't see the last of them."

Eowyn cracked a little smile at that. "Then I shouldn't keep you from your task."

With another small smile, Eowyn turned back towards the house. After a little deliberation Lothiriel called out after her.

"Wait," Eowyn stopped and looked back with a questioning look, "Would you- would you like me to show you how to weed the garden?"

Eowyn's eyes widened slightly. Lothiriel immediately regretted her impulsive offer as she realised that Eowyn was wearing a white gown, which would be covered with dirt afterwards. She was sure Eowyn would decline the offer.

Surprisingly, Eowyn came back towards Lothiriel.

"Yes, I would like that." she said.

Smiling, Lothiriel fetched a clean apron for Eowyn and beckoned her towards her. She showed her how to recognize weeds and how to dig up the roots of one with the gardening claw. Eowyn listened and observed attentively, and soon with her own claw she helped Lothiriel get rid of some weeds. Both of them got absorbed in the task in no time, working together in companionable silence.

A while later, commotion from the front of the house reached them, grabbing their attention. A few short shouts could be heard followed by the sound of people rushing here and there.

Frowning, Lothiriel discarded her tools and she and Eowyn both stood up exchanging a look, before making their way towards the house.

The entrance hall was in chaos with servants and soldiers running everywhere. Imrahil, Lothiriel's father was standing by the front door, issuing orders, as some soldiers helped injured men out of the door, to be taken to the Houses of Healing. She could also spot the dark heads of her brothers, Erchirion and Amrothos, across the room. Eomer was standing beside them.

Lothiriel rushed towards her brothers, anxiety hastening her steps. She was acutely aware of the fact that she was in her old threadbare gown, covered in dirt with wisps of dark hair escaping from its simple coil. This is hardly the time for vanity, she admonished herself as she reached her brothers and Eomer, Eowyn hot on her heels.

The three men were covered in dust and scratches from head to toe. Amrothos was also sporting a nasty gash on his head.

"What happened?" she demanded, automatically grabbing Amrothos' head so she could look at his wound.

"A little accident down by the outer wall," Erchirion answered, turning towards her. "A section of the wall caved in. Rubble fell right on top of the men working beneath the wall. Quite a few men got hurt, but thankfully nothing serious."

"It looks quite serious to me." Lothiriel said, watching as the injured men were taken to the Houses, "And why are you three not going to the Houses?"

"We're alright," Amrothos said, grinning as if a trail of blood was not falling into his eyes. "Other men need help more urgently."

Lothiriel assessed her brothers with a calculating gaze. Apart from Amrothos' gash they didn't seem that badly hurt. She turned towards Eomer then, finding him a bit scratched but otherwise uninjured.

"Fine, but let me see to that cut, Amrothos, before you bleed out on the floor." Lothiriel said, dragging her protesting brother away.

As she walked away she caught sight of Eomer talking with Eowyn. He seemed to flinch when Eowyn put an arm around him. But it was barely there, before Eomer pulled his sister into a hug. Shaking her head, Lothiriel turned back to see to Amrothos' wound.

After assessing the cut, Lothiriel decided it wasn't deep enough to require stitches.

"You'll live." she said, as she cleaned the cut on her brother's forehead. Already, the bleeding had stopped.

"Really?" Amrothos said, his gray eyes appearing light and full of mischief against his dirt covered face, "Are you sure? I feel a bit faint and I'm fairly sure there's two of you in front of me right now. Perhaps I should lie down for, say, a day or two. You can tell father I'll be unable to attend the council meeting the day after tomorrow."

"Aww, poor Amroth." Lothiriel cooed, "You're hurt are you? Then I'll let the cook know you'll require gruel served to you for the next two days, and I should also tell the stable boy to exercise your horse since you won't be able to go for rides-"

Amrothos groaned, "You know what, I suddenly feel right as rain. No need to go to all that trouble for me, dear."

Lothiriel grinned at that. After growing up with three older brothers, she'd learned how to manage them and hold her own against them. Making sure Amrothos didn't have any other injuries Lothiriel ordered him to go take a bath, before moving back to the entrance hall.

The commotion from earlier had quieted down now. After seeing her father and Erchirion, who were unharmed if a bit dirty, Lothiriel decided to check on Eomer as well but he had already gone up to his room.

She thought she had seen him flinch earlier, as if in pain, but surely if he was injured he would have said something.

Soon it was time for dinner. Unable to help it, Lothiriel found herself observing Eomer throughout dinner. Her suspicion that he was injured was reinforced when Eomer winced imperceptibly every time he had to move his upper body. Growing up with three brothers had taught her that men tended to downplay their injuries and not seek any help until they were either bleeding to death or in unimaginable pain.

She should probably leave it. If he wanted to hide his injury then let him suffer for it, Lothiriel thought.

Eomer was seated on the other end of the table, on her father's right. She was all the way on the opposite end, trying to focus on her dinner. For the rest of the meal, she barely looked up, but for the life of her she couldn't tell what Amrothos and Erchirion were talking to her about.

If only the stubborn man would go seek medical help. But Eomer didn't.

Dinner ended without incident and Lothiriel, her brothers and Eowyn relocated to the parlour. Eomer excused himself, preferring to retire early to bed.

Time passed quickly as the Dol Amroth siblings taught a famous Gondorian card game to Eowyn. Well, Amrothos and Erchirion did most of the teaching while Lothiriel observed quietly.

In no time Eowyn had mastered the tricks of the game and started enjoying herself as she managed to win quite a few times. After a few seemingly effortless victories, Amrothos became convinced that the white lady was somehow cheating. Taking advantage of the situation, Erchirion managed to goad Amrothos into proposing a challenge. It was decided that the loser would have to do a forfeit. Lothiriel absent-mindedly accepted her cards after Erchirion had dealt.

It turned out that Eowyn wasn't cheating after all, but she did seem to have a way with the game. She was the first one to win. Next was Amrothos, who got a bit too serious about winning. Erchirion, not particularly interested in winning, but not wanting to lose either managed to win next against Lothiriel, who was admittedly rather lost in her thoughts and not paying much attention to the game in the first place.

After enduring some good-natured taunting and gloating from her brothers, Lothiriel sighed and told them to do their worst. The forfeit, it was decided, would be that Lothiriel would have to look after Amrothos' horse and polish Erchirion's armour for the next week. Eowyn, amused by the siblings' antics, said she preferred to do her own chores, and instead asked Lothiriel to teach her more about gardening.

Soon after, Lothiriel excused herself and retired for the night. In her room, her maid helped her dress for bed in a linen nightgown trimmed in white lace. Making sure Lothiriel was comfortable, the maid blew out the candles and left.

Lothiriel gathered her blanket around her and closed her eyes. She could hear the sound of crickets outside her window, the noise unbearably loud. She huffed, pulling a pillow over her ears.

Eomer would probably be asleep by now, he had retired early. Or he might be having trouble falling asleep too. But he should have known better than to go to bed without having his injury checked. That is, if he even made it to the bed.

Lothiriel bit her lip as she thought about the possibility that he might be in need of help.

Tossing away the covers, she sat up, weighing her options. Her father had asked her to look after their guests. And as a hostess, surely it would only be hospitable to check to see that Eomer wasn't badly hurt. Surely, nothing could be wrong with asking the man if he was alright.

Her mind made up, Lothiriel grabbed a robe and pulled it on over her nightdress, lit a candle and made her way to the door.

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who took the time out to review, favorite, and follow this story! Seriously, getting the email alerts made me smile so bad.

I was going to post this chapter tomorrow, but I just couldn't wait so here it is a day early. Hope you guys like it!