The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor when Lothiriel woke. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly rested. With a yawn, she got out of bed and called for a bath. She would be needed again in the Houses soon, but first she needed to wash away the dirt and grime that clung to her.
While she waited, she picked up her sketchbook and flipped through some of her last drawings. Pippin sitting on the wall of the city, his head tossed back in laughter as he told some silly story. Shadowfax racing across Pelennor. "Eowyn." She stopped as she looked at the likeness of the Rohirric woman. Having a name for the stranger whose face she knew so well was strangely unsettling. Perhaps some part of her hoped they would never meet, and that she would remain nothing more than a nightmare. The questions that came with knowing were messy and difficult, and as she looked at the drawing she felt a sense of guilt wash over her. "Did I miss something? Was there something more I was meant to have done?"
Shaking her head, she tried to focus on something, anything else. She turned to a new page and sat in thought for a moment before placing her pencil to the paper. Slowly each detail that was burned into her memory was transferred to the page. The curve of his neck as he turned his face to the sky, the strength of his hands that so protectively held the body in his arms, the mass of hair that flew haphazardly about his face. "Why you?" she wondered as she stared at her depiction of Eomer King. "Why me?"
A knock at the door telling her the bath was ready startled her from her thoughts. She closed the book and grabbed a clean dress, hoping that scrubbing herself clean would clear her mind.
Eomer woke with a start. His dreams were troubled and though he knew he had slept long, he did not feel rested. He immediately sat up to check on Eowyn who still slept in the cot. She looked better than she had before. The color was returning to her face and arm, and her breathing was deeper. Though some of the bruises were beginning to change colors, he knew from experience that it meant they were beginning to heal.
He wondered for a moment how long he had been asleep, and immediately his concern grew. "What if something happened?" he thought frantically. He took a few deep breaths to slow the thundering in his chest, and reminded himself that if anything important had occurred he would have been woken and notified. But there were still things that would need to be attended to now that he had slept. The battle was over, but not the war. Though he was loathe to leave Eowyn, his presence would be required elsewhere and he needed to bathe. He quietly gathered his things, gently kissed her forehead, and made his way out of the room to find somewhere he could wash. He wondered idly if he would see the girl again. "What did Aragorn say her name was?" He racked his brain but nothing came. A part of him hoped that he would. After she took her leave and he had time alone with his thoughts, he felt quite guilty about the way he had spoken to her. She was only trying to do her job after all.
Was that really all it was though? Of course her job was to help, but she had stood up to him in order to ensure he got the attention he needed rather than allowing him to intimidate her into moving which would have been the easier route. Despite her exhaustion, she had made sure that he was cared for in the face of his temper. She had spoken to him kindly and gently despite his initial impression, and she had done it all despite looking as though she had gone far too long without sleep. He couldn't help the feeling that she had done more than her job called for in helping him, and he wanted to thank her for it.
Lost in thought as he was, he was still able to find a healer and be pointed in the right direction for a bath. As he washed, his mind wandered anxiously between thoughts. The battle they had won, but at what cost? Fear for Eowyn, fear for things that could not be changed and for things yet to pass. The girl whose kindness he felt he did not deserve. He tried to not linger on any too long, but all it managed to do was leave him worried about more problems than before.
As soon as he was clean, he left the Houses in search of Aragorn. As he was making his way towards the lower levels, he heard someone calling his name.
"Eomer!"
He turned to see Amrothos, the son of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth running towards him.
"I was sent to find you. It's time." he said, his face solemn.
"Aye, that it is." Eomer agreed. "Though what we will do next, I cannot imagine."
Amrothos nodded. "I'm not sure I want to imagine." he said quietly. "But Father always says 'without fear, there can be no courage because there is nothing to overcome.' Whatever the decision may be, we cannot do nothing."
Eomer didn't respond. All his life, he had known battle. From the time he could walk he was taught to ride, and from the moment he could hold a pencil it was often replaced with a sword. War was what he knew; but this was different. The fate of Middle Earth rode on the decision they would make, and it could not be decided lightly.
They continued in silence for the remainder of their walk, both aware that each step brought them closer to an outcome that could mean the beginning - or the end. They passed the broken gates of the city and made their way towards the encampment. Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf were already waiting with Aragorn, but Imrahil stood outside the tent waiting for them.
"Are you ready?" he asked as they approached.
Though Eomer's heart raced and his stomach twisted into knots, he nodded. "As I'll ever be." he thought as they entered. Aragorn stood proud and strong next to Gandalf, though every face in the room was grim.
"Shall we begin?"
The bath hadn't done much to quell the questions in her mind, but being back at work with those who needed her helped her to focus on the here and now. As she ran from patient to patient, distributing salves and teas and comfort wherever she could, it was impossible for her mind to be anywhere but in the present because there was no room for anything else. Not for questions, not for sadness, not for the exhaustion that would set in. All of those things were set aside in favor of giving her all to the people who needed her most.
Through all her training and all her effort, nothing had prepared her for the moments when she had to make the decision to stop care. Resources were limited, and she had known from the beginning that they would have to be used carefully. But making the decision that those resources would be better used elsewhere because they had developed an infection or they needed too much was so much more difficult when the person was actually a person. Her heart broke a bit more each time she realized that someone was beyond help. When she could, she would sit with them and hold their hands, wipe their tears, sing them quiet lullabies.
It felt like an eternity later when she finally gave in to the call of sleep and made her way back towards her chambers. As she did, she tried to remind herself that she was no good to anyone if she couldn't think or see straight. The city was eerily hushed now in the aftermath, and the stillness wrapped around it like a shroud. A place once so full of light and life was silenced by shadow and death. A shiver ran down her spine as her footsteps echoed in the hall. The way they broke through the quiet made her feel like an intruder in some sacred place that was not meant for the living.
"Lothiriel!"
The way her name echoed so loudly was jarring against the silence and she jumped, her heart pounding hard in her chest as she turned. With a sigh of relief, she saw Pippin running towards her.
"You startled me!" she told him as he stopped before her. But the joke or jest she had come to expect from the hobbit never came. His face was grave when he spoke. "I've been sent for by Aragorn to join him outside the city," he said quietly. Her heart, which had finally begun to slow, thudded in her ears with renewed rigor when she realized he was clad in his livery. "I've already asked so much of you, and if this is too much I understand. But will you walk with me?"
"If you hadn't asked, I would've followed you anyway." she said with as much a smile as she could muster. "I have a feeling my father and brothers are with him, and if this means what I think it means, I must see them off."
Pippin nodded, and he returned her halfhearted smile. "Once again, my lady, I am in your debt." he told her as they headed off towards the gates. They didn't speak as they walked, making their way in companionable silence. As they reached the lower levels, the quiet somehow deepened. It was nearly suffocating, and they didn't dare speak a word as they continued through it until they finally reached the gates. The sun was setting as they crossed the fields, bathing the city in a brilliant orange light.
"Are you afraid?" asked Pippin quietly.
Lothiriel nodded. "I am. For my family, for you, for the future. There's much to fear. But it is when we are most afraid that we may find our courage." He turned to look at her. "The lady Galadriel told me something similar." he said thoughtfully. "Though I never thought that the courage she spoke of would be this. I'm just a hobbit."
"No one is just anything, Pippin. Your story is one of love. It drove you to leave your home and fight for those closest to you. It brought you to places your ancestors have never seen. It brought you face to face with many terrors, and it allowed you to overcome them. That is more than many a soldier can say. There is no courage without fear."
Pippin didn't reply, but the thoughtful look didn't leave his face until they approached the tent Gimli called his name.
"Pippin!"
A bright smile lit his face as he saw the dwarf sitting outside with a pipe in hand.
"It's good to see ya in one piece young hobbit!"
Pippin ran to him and hugged him tightly as the dwarf laughed and offered him a pipe. "I see you brought your friend! How are you, lass?" he asked, eyeing her keenly. She offered him as much a smile as she could. "I am well, my lord, thank you. I've come to see my father and brothers."
Gimli nodded. "Aye, of course."
As if on cue, Imrahil threw open the flap and stepped outside.
"Father!" she cried, running to him and throwing her arms around him. He didn't speak, just held her tightly. "Has a decision been made?" she asked, and felt him nod. With a deep breath, she took a step back. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and it wasn't a question. "You're going to fight." Imrahil just looked for a moment at his daughter before giving a slight nod. "Yes."
Her stomach dropped and her knees felt weak, but she refused to allow herself to break. Not here, not now. She would not allow possibly the last memory she would make with her father to be one where she was falling apart. Taking a deep steadying breath, she nodded.
"When?"
He sighed and looked down. "Dawn."
The tight feeling in her chest somehow squeezed tighter, and her hands were shaking. "So soon?"
"I'm afraid so. But this is not about us, my dearest daughter."
"I know. Where are those headstrong brothers of mine?" she asked, trying to mask the fear in her voice with a joking tone. Imrahil smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Inside. Come with me, there's someone you should meet." As they entered, her father made his way towards Aragorn, who was standing with Mithrandir near a table at the center of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her brothers near a corner at the back talking with Eomer King.
"My Lord, I would like to present my daughter, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth."
Aragorn turned and she curtseyed low.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, my lady." he said with a soft smile, causing Imrahil to raise a questioning eyebrow. Aragorn chuckled. "Apologies my friend! We had more urgent matters to discuss and I did not mention that I had the privilege of meeting your daughter in the Houses of Healing while she tended to the sick." He turned back to her and gave her a thoughtful look. "Though once again, we meet in a place that I did not think to look for you."
She gave him as much of a smile as she could. "My father and brothers are fond of telling me that I have caused them much grief by being unpredictable, my lord. I am sure they would be pleased to know that they are not alone in that belief."
"Mithrandir, it's a pleasure." she said, turning to Gandalf and bowing her head. "I've heard much of you from Pippin."
"And I of you, Princess." said the wizard as he puffed on his pipe and regarded her carefully. "Our dear hobbit tells me that Shadowfax took quite a liking to you!"
She smiled softly. "I don't know about that, my lord. He simply accepted my affections. It was an honor."
"Don't listen to her, Gandalf." she heard as Pippin walked in behind them. "He liked her very much. As he should, I do believe he is the best judge of character I've ever met." Gandalf just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but the sparkle never left them.
"If he was such a good judge of character, it is a wonder that he liked you so much little sister." Amrothos chimed in from the corner. "You'd better hope he never meets you, brother." she tossed back, glancing towards them. But instead of meeting the joking eyes of her sibling, she found herself gazing into the stormy eyes of Eomer King. She flushed and quickly turned away, but she could feel his gaze burning into her.
"Apologies, my lords. I sometimes get a bit carried away. I know that there is much to do to prepare and I do not wish to keep you. All I ask is to say goodbye to my family." she said quietly, bowing her head.
"An easy request to grant. We will take our leaves." said Aragorn. He made his way out of the tent, motioning for the rest of them to follow. As Eomer reached the exit, he turned to take one last glance at her before leaving.
There were few words spoken as she hugged each member of her family tightly. No combination of them felt big enough to express all that she was feeling. So she wrapped them in her arms and held them close until the tears threatened to spill over. She stepped back and gave them a watery smile. "Be safe. May the grace of Elbereth go with you and return you to me."
Pippin stood at the door waiting as she left, and gave her a sad smile.
"Whatever happens, Lothiriel, I am glad to have known you. If I do not return, tell Merry…" his voice faltered and she just nodded. "I will. Be safe, my friend." she said quietly. Squaring her shoulders, she took a shuddering breath and began her return to the city. As she walked, her heart battered against her chest and she tried desperately to think of anything except the fact that she may never see any of them again.
The clipping of hooves and a voice brought her back to the present.
"My lady!"
She turned to see Eomer King riding towards her on a large grey warhorse.
"Sire." she replied with a curtsey. He dismounted and returned a small bow. Glancing up at him, she found his deep and unnerving gaze fixed on her. For an instant, she wondered if he somehow knew. If he had the answers she was looking for. Neither spoke for a few moments, until she finally broke the silence. "May I assist you?"
"I am returning to the city to speak with my sister, and if you would have me I would like to accompany you."
A surprised expression briefly crossed her face. "You really don't have to do that, sire. I would surely slow you down." He just shook his head. "Firefoot can carry us. I insist, my lady." he said, offering her his hand. She hesitated a moment. The idea of riding with a man as an unmarried woman was considered highly improper. But then, so was wandering the city alone at dusk, or offering her services as a healer, or helping search a battlefield.
With a nod, she took his hand and he helped her into the saddle before climbing up behind her. He wrapped one arm tightly about her waist to keep her from falling and they set off. "I wonder if he can feel my heart." she thought. It thudded so loudly in her ears she thought he must be able to hear it as well. As they rode all the questions she had managed to push aside about her dreams resurfaced tenfold, amplified by the fact that she now sat with her back pressed to his chest and his arm around her protectively.
When they reached the top level of the city, he slowed Firefoot to a stop and dismounted. Turning, he offered her his hand once again which she accepted gratefully. "Thank you sire. I am truly grateful for your assistance." she smiled softly up at him. He held onto her hand just a moment too long before letting go.
"My lady, may I speak plainly?" he asked suddenly. She looked at him curiously and nodded. "Of course, sire."
"I wish to apologize for my ghastly behavior when we first met. Even before I discovered who you were I had hoped our paths might cross again that I could make amends for such an outburst. You treated me with kindness and thoughtfulness though I did not return them. You stood up to me and ensured my own well being as well as ensuring the best care for my sister, and for all of those reasons I will be forever grateful to you Princess."
She flushed, and bowed her head."I am glad to have helped, sire, but you give me too much credit. I was just doing my duty." she murmured quietly.
"If it is not too bold to say, I believe your actions were beyond the call of duty my lady. I have known many healers, and spent enough time in their care to know that most would have given up and allowed me to pass after being shouted at in such a way. But not you. Can you find forgiveness for the actions of a distraught man?" he said solemnly.
"If you only knew how this kills me. How it multiplies questions to which answers do not exist. How it pains me to know that I may never see you again to ask any of them. Like do you know that your voice has haunted my sleep? Do you know that this will likely haunt me more?" she thought as he looked at her.
"My lord, you flatter me. There is nothing to forgive, though if there was please believe that it would be easily done." she replied. The look in his eyes was a strange mix of confusion with relief, openness and sincerity with fear and anger. The intensity of his gaze was bewildering, and she found it hard to hold.
"It is a relief to know I have not offended you, my lady. It is a small comfort that I shall hold onto. I must beg your pardon once again, Princess, that I cannot see you safely to your destination. I really must see my sister before I return."
She nodded. "Of course, my lord." she murmured, and gave a small curtsey. When she looked up, he took her hand and brought it to his lips to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. "May the grace of Elbereth go with you and bring you safely home." she murmured.
"Bema protect you." he replied, and mounted Firefoot. "I pray our paths will cross again, Lady Lothiriel." With that he was gone, leaving behind a shocked and bewildered Princess.
Hi!
I'm back! I am so sorry for how long this update has taken. With everything going on in the world, unfortunately my writing got put on the back burner. But I hope you all enjoyed this update! I rewrote it a few different times, and the other paths the story took just didn't quite feel right to me. I think this one was the right way, and I hope you all feel the same! Lothiriel definitely does not fit the idea of what Gondorian princesses should be, but the way I've always pictured her is a free spirit who just happened to be high born. Now they're off to fight at the Black Gate, and both Eomer and Lothiriel have quite the interaction to reflect on until they're reunited!
As always, any reviews and constructive criticism is hugely appreciated!
