Chapter 8
Lothiriel could feel her fingers trembling with nerves as she stood outside King Elessar's solar, with the rest of the apprentices.
Any moment now, she would be called in to swear the Oath of Maeben in front of the king, who would then officially inscribe her as a Healer.
It was early yet, Lothiriel herself had arrived not ten minutes ago, and already two of the apprentices had been called in. Her turn would come soon, she thought, nervous flutters erupting in her middle and travelling down her spine.
Lothiriel had been so apprehensive for this morning that she had barely slept all night. She even skipped breakfast, her stomach too unsettled for food. This was it, the final moment, the goal she had been working towards for the last several years about to be fulfilled.
One of them, anyway. Now she was a step closer to realising her dream.
She was so nervous she almost missed mistress Ioreth calling out her name from the doorway. Lorhiriel took a deep breath and then, with a nervous smile to the rest of the apprentices, she stepped through.
The king's solar was a medium sized room, furnished sparsely with a desk and some shelves. The wall opposite the doorway was occupied by large windows, letting in much light. On her left was a fireplace, with some chairs scattered about it in an informal manner. On the right was the desk, to which mistress Ioreth led her.
King Elessar was seated behind his desk. He looked up expectantly as they approached. He had the visage of a wise man, with an innate strength that wasn't outwardly apparent but which was palpable nonetheless. His expression was neither gentle nor severe, but his eyes were kind. He rose as Lothiriel drew close.
"Princess Lothiriel, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." He inclined his head, his expression unsmiling, but warm and welcoming nonetheless. "I have heard a great deal about you and your healing talents from mistress Ioreth."
Lothiriel curtsied, feeling quite humbled by his words and presence.
"The pleasure is all mine, sire. To be esteemed thusly by one whose hands can bring one back from the brink is a great honour."
King Elessar finally smiled and gestured her forward. Lothiriel stepped up to the desk, and then the next moments passed in a seeming blur as she was at last declared a Healer.
First, Lothiriel repeated the Oath of Maeben that the king recited. He then proclaimed her officially as a Healer, to serve all races of Middle Earth, and to bring harm to no living thing, while mistress Ioreth witnessed the proceedings, and added it to the records.
Lastly, Lothiriel signed her name on the piece of parchment handed to her.
And just like that, she was a Healer.
As soon as she reached home, Lothiriel found Miwien waiting for her in the hall, still blinking sleep from her eyes. As soon as she saw Lothiriel, Miwien rushed forward with a squeal.
"Praise the Valar!" she laughed, squeezing Lothiriel in a hug. "You did it! Oh, I'm so proud."
Lothiriel chuckled, hugging her friend back, "Thank you for always supporting me."
They drew away, grinning from ear to ear.
"You know this calls for a celebration right?" Miwien smirked.
"So it does," Lothiriel agreed. "The weather is quite nice for a picnic."
"I haven't had breakfast yet, so that sounds perfect." Miwien nodded. "We should ask Lady Eowyn to come as well."
And so decided, Miwien went to retrieve Eowyn from her room, while Lothiriel rushed to the kitchens to have a picnic basket prepared. Soon, the three of them gathered again in the front hall.
Eowyn congratulated Lothiriel and embraced her, a gesture that took the princess aback but was welcomed nonetheless.
"So where are we going?" Eowyn inquired.
"There's a little meadow not far from the city. It's surrounded by some farmlands, but it's quiet and perfect. I was thinking we could go there." Lothiriel offered, following her friends as they stepped outside.
"Ah but it rained yesterday, and then all night, so the meadow will likely be all muddy and wet." Miwien tusked.
The ladies entered the stables and, unbidden, the run in with Eomer in this very place ran through Lothiriel's mind. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the King of Rohan had met her here, had apologised and been so courteous. And yet, that was the last time it had been so, their relati0nship having soured after that encounter.
It bothered Lothiriel that they had ended up arguing and on bad terms. But was it worth extending her courtesy to the king to fix whatever it was they had, when he thought she was making up schemes to end up as his bride?
She glanced at the stall housing his horse, as they advanced through the stables. Half expecting to see Eomer there, but neither horse, nor rider were present, causing a pang of disappointment in her.
She shook her head, putting all thoughts of the Rohirric king to the back of her mind. Today was her day and she wouldn't have bad thoughts and useless musings ruining it.
Three horses were soon saddled for them, as they finally decided where to have their picnic.
"There is this one place." Miwien started, mounting her mare. "It's quite secluded in one of the denser parts of the woods, and not very far from the city. There's a small stream and it widens at one point. It's big enough for a swim at that point and there's flat grassland around where we can have our picnic."
And so it was designated as the perfect spot to have their little party, and they all set out from the stables at a gallop. They trotted through the streets of Minas Tirith, going down level by level, until they reached the third level where they took a side path and exited the city through a postern gate.
The path that Miwien guided them on took them south, towards the River Anduin. A quarter of a mile away from the city, they turned right, towards the foothills of Mindolluin and then into the dense woods that grew there.
Soon they reached a small clearing of sorts, cushioned with soft grass and moss, through which passed a fast stream. As Miwien had described, the stream widened into a large pool as it bisected the clearing. Over the pool, and most of the clearing which had no tree cover, the sun shined down brightly, reflecting into brilliant fractals over the softly gushing water. A soft breeze kept the clearing pleasant and not too hot. Woodland critters and birds could be heard throughout, but the clearing was free of any creature or pest.
Tying up their horses at the nearby trees, the three of them grabbed their picnic basket, spread out a blanket on the ground and settled in.
In the basket was packed a veritable feast of soft bread, fresh berries with a jar of cream, apples, a variety of cheeses, cured meat, and sweet cakes, as well as a bottle of wine.
"Goodness, don't mind me if I dig right in, I'm starving." Miwien said, immediately reaching for a cake.
Eowyn laughed as she made herself a plate of bread, meat, and apples.
Lothiriel followed suit and poured them all wine in clay cups and raised hers, "To dreams finally realised."
"To dreams." Eowyn and Miwien echoed as they all clinked their cups and drank.
"So, is it your dream to be a healer?" Eowyn asked, curious.
"It was, yes." Lothiriel smiled, popping a berry into her mouth. "I want to open a Houses of Healing in Dol Amroth eventually. Currently we have too few healers, and no organised place to serve the people of our principality and Belfalas."
"A noble objective." Eowyn smiled.
"What about your dream?" Miwien asked the white lady. "What does the great slayer of the witch king dream of?"
A sad, bitter smile passed over her features, as Eowyn took a sip of her wine, stalling.
"I used to dream of glory in battle, of freedom from a stagnant life." she sighed.
"And now it has been attained." Lothiriel acknowledged, a little awed by her feats.
"Yes, it has." Eowyn replied, her smile now serene and free from sadness. "Now I dream of better things."
Miwien nudged her with her elbow, "Such as a certain steward, and his kisses, right?"
Eowyn blushed, but fired right back, "Yes, just as you dream of a certain prince and his kisses."
Miwien blushed and, uncharacteristically for her, suddenly became shy and looked down at the cup she was holding.
"If it is my father you are referring to, I would rather not hear of his kisses if you please." Lothiriel said, covering her ears dramatically, only half joking.
Eowyn laughed as Miwien turned even bright red, her pale colouring giving away her discomfiture.
"But really," Lothiriel began, glancing at Miwien, "not that I'm not happy for you both, but how did it happen that my father escorted you to the feast?"
"I don't know, he just asked and I said yes." Miwien said with a shrug. "I'm sorry for not telling you beforehand."
Lothiriel grabbed Miwien's free hand in her own and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"You have nothing to apologise for, Miwien. If you're happy and make my father happy, then that's good enough for me. But do you like him?" Lothiriel couldn't help but wonder.
"'Like' is too weak for what I feel." Miwien said, looking at Lothiriel finally. "I used to find him stern and too traditional and serious, but now that I'm getting to know him the same qualities seem all the more charming to me. I think, for me, Imrahil is my dream."
As Miwien revealed her feelings, Lothiriel couldn't help being a little shocked at the depth of Miwien's regard for her father, in such little time of acquaintance, when previously she had been indifferent to any attention from the men around her. But she truly was happy for her friend as well.
"You do not find it weird?" Miwien asked a little anxiously, "I am so much younger than him after all."
"There is nothing strange with you being younger." Eowyn said, "One falls in love despite the age of their loved one, not because of it."
"True, I do not mind as long as you both are happy." Lothoriel shrugged and gave Miwien a reassuring smile.
"Just look at King Elessar and Arwen. She is thousands of years older than him, but they both are true to each other." Eowyn pointed out, then confessed with a rueful smile. "I myself was once in love with a man who was old enough to be my grandfather. In my defence though, he didn't look a day over forty, if not younger."
"Really, who was this man?" Miwien asked, curious.
Eowyn refused to divulge more details about her past romance, despite Miwien and Lothiriel's constant needling.
Soon enough the three of them had eaten all they could eat, and drank up enough of the sunshine to become slightly overheated. When Miwien suggested they take a dip in the stream, the three of them readily agreed.
Giddy from the food and wine, Lothiriel stripped down to her shift, piling her clothes near the picnic blanket where Eowyn and Miwien had left their's, and waded in after them. The water was cold and pleasant against her heated skin, the sun beating down on them from directly overhead now.
She swam a few laps until she felt that she was cool enough to come out of the water. Plopping on the grass, near the stream where Miwien still floated, Lothiriel allowed the gentle gust to dry her shift before she could dress again. Eowyn soon followed Lothiriel, and sat near her, wringing water from her shift.
"Are you both already done?" Miwien teased, standing in the water which came up to her ribs.
"Yes." Lothiriel replied, laughing. "The water was refreshing, but I don't want to be out and about in just my shift all day."
Miwien smirked, and then swam a little closer. She floated on her back, while Lothiriel sat and watched her.
With the sun shining, her shift was almost dry, and Lothiriel decided it was time to don her dress again. She felt too exposed just sitting about in the thin cotton which, still a little wet, provided little modesty. Suddenly, as Lothiriel stood, Miwien scooped out a handful of water and splashed it at her.
Lothiriel shrieked, backing away from the water and Miwien who was trying to splash more water at her.
"Miwien!" Lothiriel shouted out as more water came her way, and she took a few more steps away, bumping into Eowyn who was now standing behind her.
They both tumbled down, tangled up in each other. Miwien was no longer splashing at them, but was doubled over in the water from laughter.
Lothiriel lifted herself to her elbows and glanced to her right where Eowyn lay. They looked at each other, both wet from the lake, and now covered in grass and dirt and leaves, and couldn't help laughing at the absurd image.
"Well, this calls for another dip in the water." Eowyn stood, gesturing at their ruined shifts.
Lothiriel grasped the hand that Eowyn extended and stood as well. As she did, she heard the sounds of hoofbeats approaching, which they hadn't noticed before in all the ruckus.
They all froze, the sound so unexpected. The hoofbeats were deafening in the quiet now as they drew swiftly closer, the leaves of the trees rustling. Quickly, Eowyn and Lothiriel bent down to pick up good sized rocks to defend themselves in case of danger, and Miwien ducked down into the water.
Turning around, Lothiriel saw the first of the riders appear from the trees across from their picnic blanket. To her shock, it was none other than Eomer, looking fierce upon his horse.
He drew to a quick halt, his horse rearing back, as he surveyed the scene before him with sharp eyes. Before other riders could emerge into the clearing, Eomer shouted out a command in Rohirric, and the other hoofbeats halted. There were sounds of stamping hooves, and snorting horses, which faded as the riders retreated slowly.
Lothiriel relaxed her biting grip on the rocks she was holding, her cheeks flaring with heat as Eomer's eyes passed over her before he quickly averted his gaze to where their horses were tethered.
"What is the meaning of this, Eowyn?" Eomer asked, "my men almost happened upon my sister and my- two noble ladies of Gondor, in nothing but their shifts."
"It is exactly as it looks like," Eowyn said shortly, dropping the rocks she was holding. "We were just enjoying a picnic and a swim. Is that so wrong?"
"We heard shouting, and thought there was trouble." Eomer said, his horse shifting to the side. "If you insist on gallivanting about, at least do so quietly so not just any passerby happens upon you."
As Eomer said this, to all intent and purpose addressed to his sister, his gaze passed over Lothiriel again. She bristled, feeling his sharp admonishment included her as well. She raised her chin proudly, refusing to feel shame. He was the one who had intruded upon them, so he should be the one feeling flustered.
And yet, even as she thought this, Lothiriel was painfully aware of the state of her dress (or rather, undress) and her cheeks heated despite her efforts otherwise.
"Well be gone then, and let us be in peace." Eowyn shooed.
With another quick look her way, Eomer turned his horse around and left the clearing without another word.
It took a few moments then for Lothiriel to recover enough to make a dash for her clothes. The look in his eyes, as he had left, was intent and unmistakable.
After the unfortunate end to their picnic, Lothiriel would be quite content to never again see the King of Rohan. Her cheeks still heated, even two days later, whenever she recalled the way his gaze had taken in her scantily clad self.
Oh, he had been discreet about it, but she had caught the last look he had stolen of her before he rode away. As he had turned his horse around, there was no mistaking the way he looked at her.
Lothiriel recognized that look. His eyes would darken, his lids narrow, and his face become hard as stone while he would gaze at her with all his focus. It was the same look he had given her that day when she thought he had been flirting with her when he came to their house for the first time, and then again in his room that night. The look that he seemed to reserve for her whenever she was in his vicinity.
She had thought he was merely trying to figure her out, like a difficult puzzle, whenever he subjected her to that look. But now she knew there was more to it. Because Lothiriel was now familiar enough with it to recognize attraction when she saw it.
Unwanted attraction, perhaps, because he tried to keep it guarded. As if he did not want to want her.
Well, it was the same for her. Eomer had made it clear any interest on her part was unwelcome, so she too was plagued with feelings she did not want.
With all this between them, and then the mortifying ordeal of two days ago, Lothiriel was very reluctant to meet him again. But, because she still had to discuss the recovery plans of the Rohirric soldiers with him, she must.
And so she stood here now, outside the very courtyard where everything with Eomer had started.
He was training with his soldiers again. After that one time, he made sure to keep his tunic on. In fact, all the Rohirric men were properly dressed as they sparred with each other, no bare chest on display even though the sun was particularly brutal that day.
Lothiriel made no attempt to conceal herself this time as she patiently waited. Soon enough Eomer called out a halt, and the men finished up for the day.
Eomer walked over to a bench nearby, grabbing a cloth to wipe sweat from his face. He turned then, and looked directly at her. As if he had known all along she stood there. Lothiriel shifted nervously as he approached. Swallowing, she steeled herself as Eomer halted in front of her.
"I would like a moment of your time, my lord." She began. "There's something I would like to discuss regarding your men who lie injured in the Houses of Healing."
Eomer's brow raised at that, clearly not expecting the subject.
"Is something the matter?" He asked.
"Nothing to worry about." Lothiriel assured him. "I know you will be leaving for Rohan soon, and your men too are anxious to return home. However, they still need more time to recuperate."
Eomer took a deep breath, then motioned Lothiriel forward. He led her to a bench and allowed her to sit. As she did, he paced in front of the bench, raking his hand through his hair.
"I have been told as much by the mistress Ioreth." Eomer stopped and shook his head, "but my men are not willing to be left behind."
"I may have a solution for that," she said, "most of your men have recovered enough from their injuries that they can make the journey back to Rohan. However, in order to ensure their rehabilitation they would still need further care in the coming months. Nothing that requires the expertise of a healer fortunately. I was thinking, if we send them home with written instructions regarding their care, they can continue their rehabilitation. They would not need to stay here for an extended period of time."
"What sort of instructions?" Eomer asked.
"Some exercises to help them gain mobility, as well as how to make simple salves for pain and which medicinal herbs would be beneficial for them." Lothiriel began. "I'm sure the healers will help me make a detailed plan for each man that he then can manage by himself."
Eomer considered it, his face thoughtful as he looked out over the courtyard.
"It is a sound plan, princess. But written instructions may not be helpful as most of my men cannot read Westron or Sindarin. Is there any way you can teach the men everything necessary for their care?" Eomer asked.
Lothiriel's heart leaped as he turned to look at her. Eomer raised a good question, but the fact that he was willing to listen to her, and thought her plan good, made her fill with warmth.
"It can be done." Lothiriel mused. "But I would ask for some time so they may learn everything. And I would still provide written instructions as well in case they become forgetful. I'm sure the instructions can be read out by someone."
Eomer nodded, "I suppose the men can be persuaded to remain here until I return for my uncle's funeral."
"If they can wait until such time, I'm sure that will be sufficient for us to equip them with all the guidance they need." Lothiriel said.
And so they both agreed that Eomer would leave for Rohan, while the injured Rohirrim would remain in Minas Tirith where Lothiriel and the other Healers would teach them all they required to ensure their continued healing. They would provide them with medicine and herbs that could be spared as well. And when Eomer would return to collect his uncle's body to escort back to Rohan for his funeral, then the injured Rohirrim would be ready to return with him.
"You have my gratitude, Princess Lothiriel, for thinking of the well being of my men." Eomer said, looking down at Lothiriel.
"Please, it's only my duty as a healer." she replied.
"Yes, but I-" Eomer started, shaking his head, "I believe that lately I have been offensive, and - how did you put it? - rude and insulting in my behaviour. I feel like I have misunderstood you."
Lothiriel raised her brow, immediately becoming defensive, "Obviously, you have."
"I would like to apologise, for all the times I may have offended you," he said. "I respect and value Imrahil's friendship too much that it does not sit well with me to leave Minas Tirith at odds with a member of his family."
Her heart stuttered as she gaped at the King of Rohan. So the man knew when to extend an apology. But the fact that he would do so now, before he went away, in order to keep his conscience and just because she was his friend's daughter… It hurt. And it shattered any hope she had been harbouring that he might regard her as anything more.
Lothiriel stood, backing away from him. "I-I accept your apology. And I hope you would not hold any grief I may have given you against my father. He is the finest of men."
"I believe so. And I hold no grief against you, princess." Eomer replied, but she could not believe him.
"I wish you a safe journey home." she curtsied, then turned around and walked away.
She waited until she was safely home, and locked away in her room, before giving in the urge to cry.
It is fine, she assured herself. He would leave and she would forget this stupid infatuation with him.
Or so she hoped.
A/N: The oath of Maeben mentioned in the start is an invention of mine, based on the Hippocratic oath.
Hope you all like this chapter! I'm trying to finish this story soon because I have an idea for another fic that I want to write. Only four or five more chapters are left before this story is done. I'll try to update weekly hopefully. Thanks for reading and reviewing!