Chapter 6

Lothiriel was just cleaning up for the day, when mistress Ioreth approached her.

"Lothiriel, a word."

Wiping her hands on a clean rag, she followed Ioreth to a secluded corner in the room.

Ioreth was looking at her appraisingly, her small eyes shrewd but not unkind.

Lothiriel had known the master healer for many years, and very closely for the last three when Ioreth made the princess her direct apprentice and assistant. She was stern and had no patience for layabouts, but she respected hard work. And her knowledge and skills in the art of healing was rivaled by few.

"The king is going to appoint the Healers after his coronation." she said. "I think you are more than ready, so you will be there to receive your commission."

Lothiriel gaped, feeling a nervous shiver pass through her. For a moment she daren't believe she had heard right. Would she really finish her apprenticeship? Become a Healer in truth?

After years of hard work and learning, could she finally be one step closer to realizing her dreams?

And yet, a tiny niggle of doubt and anxiety crept into her. Was she truly ready to be a Healer?

"Are you sure, mistress Ioreth?" she couldn't help but ask. "There is still so much for me to learn."

"And there always will be. This is just the beginning and there are still many things to learn. But some things can only be learned by experience, and you are ready to take that next step." said Ioreth. "King Elessar will meet with the apprentices two days after the coronation. Be at the Houses by eight in the morning."

With that Lothiriel was dismissed for the day.

She stood there for a while, her heart elated but filled with anxiety too. Oh, it was all very nice to work towards a goal, but what now when she had almost achieved it. She was going to be a Healer, which wasn't so different from being an apprentice, except she would be making a lot more decisions on her own.

Remember why you are doing this. Lothiriel reminded herself, taking deep calming breaths.

Most apprenticeships lasted for more or less five years anyway, so she knew this day would come soon. And now she would take this chance to further groom her skills until such a day when she established her own Houses of Healing in Dol Amroth.

With that thought in mind, she went back to washing up before heading home for the day.

It was late afternoon, the time Lothiriel usually got off from her time at the Houses. Changed out of her Healer's robes into a clean blue gown, she walked home in a merry mood.

So good was her mood in fact, that Lothiriel took her usual route, instead of the longer one she had made sure to take for the past several days.

Her usual route which ran by the courtyard near the Citadel where the Rohirrim had, of course, taken to have sparring sessions in the afternoon.

The very same courtyard where she had caught Eomer shirtless a week or so ago.

Lothiriel did not realize this until she was under a very familiar archway and paused at the sight of many men moving about in the courtyard.

Only then did she realize the mistake she had made.

Since their little argument some days ago, Lothiriel's attempts to avoid a certain blond king had proven more fruitful. Partly due to the fact that she made a point to ignore his presence when she had to suffer it, and partly because after weeks of observing him she had an idea of his routine and made sure to stay away from places where he would be expected to be at the time.

This is why she had changed her route home so she would not have to pass by the courtyard where Eomer sparred with his men.

Of course, she could never fully avoid him while she was working at the Houses, and Eomer came there often to see his men. Thankfully, he never seeked her out and they never had cause to exchange words.

Oh but she was here now, and there Eomer was, sparring with his men as expected, though this time he kept his tunic on his person. And, despite her very best attempts, her eyes still followed him.

Something in the way he handled his sword, maybe his powerful posture, or the graceful swinging of his arms, was captivating. Even a little mesmerizing. Perhaps a bit… arousing too.

Just looking at the powerful bulge of his biceps, and the way he moved around his partner with surprising control for his size, caused flutters to erupt in her middle and a flush to creep in her cheeks.

Not for the first time, Lothiriel cursed her attraction towards the man. It was as if, looks wise, he fulfilled all her ideals, even if she hadn't been aware of what her ideals had been. But now, to her, all other men paled in comparison.

If only, his personality was not so rotten. If only he was a bit more outspoken. If only, he was capable of laughing occasionally.

As she surreptitiously watched Eomer, and lamented, she noticed that his sparring partner was the same red-haired man from the Houses a few days ago. The one with the limp.

Eomer's movements were deliberately slow and controlled, as if he was testing the abilities of his injured soldier, who was clearly trying his best to meet the king's sword stroke for stroke. Then, with a remarkable show of dexterity, the man managed to swing out, using all the strength of his upper body, to deflect Eomer's blow and disarm him quickly.

This was a good thing, for not a moment later Eomer threw back his head and let out a laugh, moving to slap the man on his back as the two of them talked and grinned excitedly.

Alright, so his personality was not so rotten, and he could be outspoken and he was capable of laughing then.

Shaking her head, Lothiriel moved back and resumed her journey home.

It had been like this for the last several days now.

Where at first, her embarrassment had fueled her attempts at avoiding the King of Rohan, this time it was solely for diplomatic purposes.

She was sure, if she ran into him, she wouldn't be able to help but give him a good kick in the shin, and that would hardly do any favors for the political relations between their countries.

So, for the past days, her anger at the man had mounted, for she could not imagine what it was about her that caused him to behave so boorishly. Why, she had even thought they could become friends, but no.

Well, it didn't matter. King Elessar's coronation was only a few days away now, and then it would be over, and Eomer would go back to Rohan, and she would be free of him.

And hopefully free of this miserable attraction to him. Because, by the Valar, even when angry at him, she still found him beyond irresistible.

Every time he would come to the Houses, Lothiriel would know, her body betraying her by reacting to his presence. She kept away and kept busy, but her lightly flushed cheeks and straying eyes would giver her away.

She could hardly stop her eyes from observing, save by keeping them shut. And that she could not do while at work.

So, she observed him and his men. It was hard to miss, the excitement in the air and the almost reverent way his men would sit taller on their beds, and look more attentive. As if he had come to call them to arms and they were ready to follow him to whatever end.

Spending so much time around the Rohirrim, Lothiriel had come to know them a bit better, and she found herself scrutinising Eomer through their eyes.

For all intents and purpose, these stalwart men had never imagined they would call him king. And yet, the mantle had fallen on his shoulders, and they were more than ready to follow him. They trusted him, she realized, and they knew he would lead them well.

Already, his frequent visits to the Houses meant a lot to his men. The fact that he took his time to listen to what they had to say almost made her forget her anger at him.

But, though his men seemed to take solace and comfort from his visits, Eomer himself would leave with the furrow in his brow deeper and his frown more pronounced. As if he absorbed the men's worries into himself. Though he was always easygoing and smiling when he was talking to them, every time his back was turned the same pensive frown would appear on his face.

Lothiriel tried not to take such notice of him. It was embarrassing, the amount of time she spent studying the nuances of his expressions. But she knew whatever troubled him regarding his men was weighing heavier and heavier on his shoulders.

Though he was abysmal to her, she could not deny his concern over his men was genuine and heartening.

And that made a grudging respect for the man flare up in her.

He was willing to put his people first, do everything in his power to ensure they were given security and shelter. His men, she realized, knew just as well which is why they were so fiercely loyal to him.

They had a champion, someone who knew their worries and had solutions to ease them.

Lothiriel wondered if there was anyone to ease Eomer's worries.

Unfortunately, she was not the one for that job.

She knew Eomer worried for a lot of things, least of all for his men who were still not well enough to leave the care of the Healers at the Houses.

The time was near for the king to depart, and most of his men wished to go back to Rohan with him. Lothiriel knew it was difficult for them to be confined to the Houses in a strange city, in the care of foreign healers, with no say to their autonomy. Being a patient was a stressful experience in itself, and not entirely good for the health of the mind.

And though she understood that well, and empathized with the Rohirrim, she knew many of them were still not well enough for a long journey. It would be taxing enough, and when they reached home they would require further care which would be hard to come by because Healers in Rohan were even more scarce than in Gondor.

And yet, knowing all this, there could be no stopping the Rohirrim who were eager to return home after such a difficult time. Lothiriel knew that.

And Eomer knew that too, hence the reason for his constant frown.

A/N: hello everyone! Thank you for sticking with my story so far, and thanks for the favs, follows and reviews. I already have 100+ follows and I never imagined I'd have so many!

This chapter is a bit short and kind of a filler so sorry about that.

To be honest, I had no idea where I was going with this story plot-wise when I wrote the first chapter. I was just struck by sudden inspiration to write about a Lothiriel who was incredibly thirsty for the King of Rohan, and you wouldn't believe I actually got inspired by the netflix show 'Chewing Gum' lol.

We're several chapters in and now I have a basic outline for the rest of the story and plot. I've got the next few chapters planned out too and they'll hopefully be longer and more exciting. Sorry I don't update faster but I will see this story through one way or another.

Anyways, hope you guys are all well and healthy. Stay safe!