FYI: I've noticed that many of my regular readers put my multi-chapter stories on Story Alert. However, if you put me on Author Alert, you should receive notice of EVERYTHING I post and not have to do each story individually. For those who don't want to read all my stories, then Story Alert is a better choice.
Silver Lining
Chapter 2 (Edoras, Spring, 3020 III)
Eomer finished pulling on his gloves, but then paused, staring across Firefoot's back toward the mountains and lost in thought. After several moments, the gray stallion gave a snort and shifted restlessly, wondering at the delay.
"Eomer? Is something the matter?" Eothain queried from his right.
Drawing in a lungful of air, the king brought his attention back to his surroundings, and turned to look at his friend. For a moment he considered giving a truthful answer, but this was neither the time nor place to discuss such things, so he merely shook his head. "No. Let us be going." With that, he gathered the reins and stepped up into the saddle.
Eothain eyed him closely for an instant, but then moved away to mount as well, and the party was quickly on their way down the hill.
Eomer's sister was bubbling over with eagerness, and he could not restrain a chuckle as she repeatedly rode on ahead, and then had to circle back to rejoin the wedding party. By mid-afternoon, he could not resist observing, "Eowyn, we will arrive no earlier for your agitation. We travel at good speed, and Faramir will be your husband soon enough! Be at peace!"
She scowled at him, and then grinned sheepishly. "I know you speak truly, Eomer, but it is difficult. When you are in love, you will understand why I cannot contain my desire to be with him. And we have been parted for so many months."
He smiled indulgently at her, not commenting that he understood better than she realized. A hard gallop to Mundburg would suit him just fine. It would mean he would see Lothiriel again all the sooner. But, unfortunately, decorum had to be maintained. He was king now, and such impulsiveness was…undesirable. Even though it was difficult to do, he quickened the pace slightly of their party. Evidently Eowyn had noticed for she cast him a grateful smile.
They camped outside the Rammas Echor their final night before arriving at the City. Eowyn had paced the perimeter of the camp for well over an hour before turning in, much to her brother's amusement. Normally, he would have ridden on for so short a distance, but it was necessary to arrive with a certain formality and dignity that creeping in at dusk did not afford.
Trying to ignore his sister's frustration, Eomer stayed to his tent, meeting with Eothain to deal with various matters. Their business concluded, Eothain was just preparing to rise when Eomer leaned back in his chair and stared off to his right. "You are acquainted with the Lady Lothiriel, Imrahil's daughter, are you not, Eothain?" he asked casually.
Eothain bit back a grin, concealing it just before Eomer glanced at him. He shrugged, then answered, as he settled back into his seat, "I have been introduced to her, little else." He could have said more than that, but thought it best to wait and see where this conversation was going.
"And what do you think of her?" Eomer pressed, still not meeting his eyes, an oddity in and of itself.
Taking a slight breath, Eothain carefully responded, "She is a beautiful woman, to be sure."
Eomer's brow wrinkled. "Of course, that cannot be argued, but I meant something more substantial than appearance," he answered, somewhat impatiently.
Eothain grinned again. "Ah. Still, what man, including you, does not enjoy spending time with a beautiful woman?" Then the marshal added more seriously, "She seems pleasant enough. But I know her too little to comment beyond that." He stopped, thinking for a moment. "She is…all that I might expect in the daughter of a Prince, I suppose," Eothain observed, giving another shrug.
"Yes, all that might be expected of a Prince's daughter…" Eomer repeated musingly. "But would she make a good queen, a good queen for Rohan?" Finally Eomer did look up and meet his gaze, though the king's expression was guarded as he awaited a response.
Now Eothain allowed his grin to show and he leaned forward. "You are thinking of marriage? I did not realize you were that well acquainted with her!"
Eomer shifted uncomfortably, then admitted, "I am not, but I…hope to become so. I have met no other woman who appeals to me so well, and now that I am king I must seek a wife. She would seem eminently suitable – though Rohan may not agree."
He scowled down at the table, and Eothain sat back with a laugh. "Eomer, how long have you served the Riddermark?"
"What? I do not recall…most of my life. You know that," Eomer answered in confusion, not expecting such a question.
"Exactly. You have devoted your life to defending our people and keeping them safe, and now, though you never expected it, you are willingly stepping in to be our king since those who should have held that position are gone. Which means, my friend, that you will continue serving Rohan for the rest of your days. Your people can hardly begrudge you taking the lady of your choice as your wife, to stand beside you as you do that. And, if she comes from Gondor, so be it. Gondor is now our friend and ally once more, and your marriage would only strengthen those ties. Even though you might marry for love, there is no denying the valuable political connection you would form in taking such a bride. If Rohan objects, then they do not deserve to have you as their king!"
The king gave a small chuckle, amused by Eothain's passionate discourse. He was rarely so eloquent, but it was clear that he was quite sincere in his words. Eomer was still not entirely convinced the people of Rohan would be quite so agreeable to this idea as Eothain believed they should be, but he did make some legitimate points. Yes, if the lady was inclined, perhaps he would pursue a courtship…
His friend, suspecting the conversation was essentially ended, rose, and smiled down at him. "Do not let duty take from you every shred of happiness, Eomer. You do deserve happiness, and if Lady Lothiriel will give it to you, then you have my full support. And I will not tolerate any naysayers to trouble you on the matter!"
A bit sheepishly, Eomer grinned at him, and extended his hand to clasp arms with his officer. "Thank you, Eothain. I do appreciate that. Good night."
His friend's words replayed over and over in Eomer's mind as he lay on his bed that night, and sleep was a long time in coming. When he awoke, however, one thing was firm in his mind – he would approach Lothiriel about a courtship. If she was willing, he would speak to Imrahil. The time for uncertainty was past; he was determined to commit to this course and see it through to whatever conclusion there was.
Though the spring nights were still chilly, the day dawned sunny and bright, and the entire camp seemed tinged with Eowyn's excitement. They quickly ate, packed their tents and were on their way. It did not take long to cover the few miles across the Pelennor, and soon an escort was seen riding out to meet them. Eowyn had gone strangely silent, falling back to ride alongside her brother, and Eomer refrained from teasing her, taking pity on her nerves. They both knew that Faramir would not be in the escort party, so they could relax for the present. Eothain took charge of the bulk of the camp, and two Gondorian soldiers led them to where they should set up.
Eomer and his sister joined the rest of the escort for the ride into the city. As they wound their way through the streets, making their way to the upper levels, the citizens came out to cheer and welcome them. Bouquets of flowers were tossed to Eowyn from women and children, and the men heartily hailed the king of the Rohirrim riding beside her. Eomer knew it took quite an effort for his sister to maintain her composure in the face of such regard. While much of it was due to the affection with which the Gondorians viewed their Steward, it was also a very real affection for the White Lady, who had done her part in defending them.
At last the pair reached the gates to the Citadel courtyard and rode inside alone, leaving the escort outside. King Elessar and Queen Arwen awaited them, with Faramir standing nearby, his gaze fixed on his betrothed, a warm smile lighting his face. Eomer strongly suspected the man very much wished to rush forward and pull Eowyn into an embrace and a fervent kiss, but he suppressed his inclination admirably, and Eomer restrained a grin. Were it him in Faramir's boots, he was sure he would feel the same, though he was not so certain he would resist the urge!
First the formalities were observed, but once the wedding party and their hosts had moved inside, the greetings became warmer. Elessar embraced his dear friends most cordially, and Faramir indulged a kiss to Eowyn's hand, though his eyes clearly indicated it was far from satisfactory as a substitute for a true buss with his beloved. While Faramir's restraint was amusing, Eomer was astonished that Eowyn strictly held to the protocols. She had never been much for following the rules in the past, but perhaps her future as the Steward's wife had inspired her to behave in a more appropriate manner, at least as Gondorian society would deem so. Eomer was sure she would never wish to do anything to embarrass her husband.
As the pleasantries were ending, a servant came forward to show the wedding guests to their chambers, and the siblings moved after him, eager to wash the dust from the road. It took a little time to get settled, with all their baggage delivered. Eomer discarded his armor, washed quickly and changed into fresh clothing, then hastened back out to rejoin Aragorn…Elessar. Eomer still had difficulty remembering to use this new name for his friend, though he was sure Aragorn would not object to being called such in private.
He met Eowyn in the hallway, also eager to return to their friends, though perhaps one of their number in particular. Catching Eomer's arm, her brisk pace pressed him to move more quickly and he snickered down at her. "Are we in a rush to be somewhere, sister?"
She gave him a glare to silence him, but then a grin broke through and she shrugged. Innocently, she told him, "I always enjoy Arwen's company!"
"Yes," Eomer laughed sarcastically, "I am sure that must be the cause of your behavior!"
They both laughed together then, and continued on their way. The royals of Gondor were awaiting them in the library, along with Faramir and two unexpected guests. "Gimli! Legolas! It is good to see you once more. How was your visit to Fangorn?" Eomer inquired, supressing a chuckle at the look on Gimli's face at the question.
"The trees were most wonderful, Eomer," Legolas answered quietly. "I did not learn their language, as I hoped, but the visit was quite soothing. Too long have I been amid stone buildings and upon battlefields."
"The trees were…lovely," Gimli grudgingly grumbled, though his countenance belied his remark, and Legolas cast a look at Eomer that said he knew full well that Gimli had not been all that enamoured of the experience.
Changing the subject, Eomer asked, "And what brings the two of you here? An earnest desire to see my sister wed?"
The unlikely pair chuckled, but Gimli explained, "That, too, but I am supervising the repairs to Minas Tirith and restoring the main gate you saw. Legolas has been over in Ithilien with a group of his Elven friends, trying to restore the land to its former beauty. Seems those nasties out of Mordor trampled Gondor's garden spot into a right mess."
"To say the least," Faramir added, joining them. "It saddened me to see its beauty despoiled, but the Elves have done much to correct that. Soon it will be lovely once more." He turned to smile lovingly at Eowyn, adding in a murmur, "A proper place to take my wife."
His three companions all ducked their heads to hide smiles, and Eomer decided to pursue another line of conversation. "Have your kin from Dol Amroth joined you yet? I understand they are to be here to stand with you." It took a great deal of effort to conceal his eagerness to hear Faramir's response about the arrival of those from Dol Amroth.
"They are not yet arrived," Faramir explained, "but the boat should be here tomorrow. It is expected around midday. I was going to ride down to meet them at the Harlond. Perhaps you would care to join me. The entire family is coming, including Elphir's wife and son."
"I would like that," Eomer said noncommittally. "I am eager to see them all again, and I look forward to meeting Elphir's family. The boy is, what, about three years now?"
"Yes, just this year, and quite a handful to his mother," Faramir answered, with a grin.
Just then Elessar joined their group, as Faramir drifted back to where Eowyn stood conversing with the Queen. The conversation turned to catching up on the activities of each since last they had been together, and Eomer had little time to think about Lothiriel further. After dinner, Eomer joined Elessar in some meetings he had scheduled, and the men were kept occupied for the remainder of the afternoon. He did not see his sister again until supper, and only then did he realize that the Steward had not been in their meetings. He had a sneaking suspicion how, or rather with whom, the two of them had occupied their day, but he did not begrudge it to them. Let them be reacquainted before their wedding day. It would help settle any nervousness they might have to reaffirm their feelings for one another in advance.
As Eomer readied himself for the evening meal, he found himself restless, and when finally he was willing to admit to it, the cause lay in Lothiriel's absence. He had hoped she would already be here when he arrived, so he could promptly pursue exploring her possible feelings toward him and his suit. And, in truth, he simply wanted to see her again, in person. Letters were all very well, but he preferred speaking to people face to face, particularly when it was a woman to whom he was attracted. Pushing aside his turmoil, he finished his preparations and headed off to join his supper companions. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
xxxxx
Eomer had seen some of these large boats a couple of times when he was in Gondor at wartime, but he had not paid them much heed. Now, with little else to focus on while they awaited the boat coming in to its mooring, he studied it with some mild interest. It took a moment to realize that someone was standing on the deck, energetically waving in his direction. Well, his or Faramir's, as the Steward stood beside him. When he realized it was Lothiriel, he very much hoped that at least some of her greeting was for him.
Faramir returned the salutation, and Eomer followed suit. It was still several more minutes before the boat finished docking, the planks were lowered and the passengers were able to exit. Imrahil quickly led the way to their waiting greeters, a broad smile on his face. "Faramir, Eomer! It is so good to see you both!" He clasped arms with each of them, but also pulled them into a fatherly embrace. Then, teasingly, he eyed his nephew. "How are you holding up? Not too jittery, I trust."
Faramir smiled warmly back at the older man. "Not too, no. I am too overwhelmed with gratitude that she has accepted me to have enough sense to be jittery!"
The three chuckled at this pronouncement as the remainder of Imrahil's family came to join them. Greetings were made all around, and Eomer was introduced to those in the party whom he had not previously met. Much as he wished to speak with Lothiriel more intimately, there was no opportunity amid the hustle and bustle as they began to get the baggage sorted and consigned to wagons to be transported to the city. Horses had been brought for the men, and a small carriage for Lothiriel, her sister-by-law and young Alphros. The boy, however, petulantly announced his inclination to ride on his father's horse, and would not be put off, despite arguments that Elphir did not know the animal well enough to think it safe.
After several moments of malcontent, Eomer offered, "Perhaps you would allow the boy to ride with me on Firefoot, Elphir. My stallion is steady as they come."
Elphir hesitated, then said, "I do not wish to impose on you, Eomer. Alphros can be a handful."
Eomer grinned in return. "If I can manage a few orcs, I am sure he will not overtax me, and it is only for a brief period! Allow him to ride with me."
"Please, Papa, please! May I?" Alphros begged, eager to seize this opportunity.
His wife, Alcathir, was looking nervous, but Elphir nodded. "Very well, if you do not mind, Eomer. If he is too much trouble, we will stop along the way and he will ride the rest of the trip in the carriage." The last was said firmly to Alphros, to impress upon him what his behavior must be if he did not want to lose this privilege.
"I will be good, Papa! Promise!" the boy exclaimed, bouncing up and down in place.
Giving a bow to the ladies, Eomer retrieved Firefoot from his esquire and mounted, then rode back to the party. Elphir handed up his son, and saw him settled in place. "Remember, my son. You promised," he remonstrated, and Alphros solemnly nodded his understanding.
The ladies were soon handed into the carriage and the men mounted up, then the slow procession made its way toward the city. Alphros, who had been all excitement a moment ago, suddenly developed a bout of shyness when he found himself alone with this large stranger on top of this huge horse. The reality was not proving quite so pleasing as he had anticipated. Sensing the boy's tenseness, Eomer asked, "Have you ever been on a horse before, Alphros? Do you ride with your father?"
The boy silently nodded, and Eomer persisted, "When I was your age, I would go riding with my father also. I am not sure if his stallion was larger than Firefoot is, but at the time he certainly seemed huge. Only because I trusted my father not to let me fall and be hurt was I not afraid." As he spoke, his arms tightened around the boy, and in doing so, he felt the tenseness ease slightly. He continued to ramble on about anything and everything, feeling the boy relax even more as Eomer's words distracted from his fear.
As he became more relaxed, he also became more talkative. Twisting to look up at Eomer, he said, "You are the king."
Eomer nodded. "I am – of Rohan. There is a different king in Gondor. His name is Elessar."
Alphros digested this and then announced, "Aunt Lothiriel says you are a great warrior."
Unable to restrain a grin, Eomer glanced at the carriage, though he could not see past the window curtains. "Did she?"
"Yes! She says you killed many orcs, and a…a…olly…olly-something. I forget."
"An oliphaunt," Eomer corrected quietly, remembering that day on the Pelennor far too vividly. "Yes, I killed one of those, and many orcs. That is true."
The boy considered this and then said, "You are very nice. Thank you for letting me ride your horse. Is he a warrior, too?"
"He is," Eomer said with a smile, "and you are very welcome. Firefoot likes little boys."
"Maybe…" Alphros said, then paused to think about his idea, before suggesting brightly, "maybe you could marry Aunt Lothiriel and have a little boy of your own!" He looked up at Eomer again, not fully understanding the strangled expression the man bore or the slight pinkness creeping up his neck.
"I suppose that is a possibility," Eomer carefully answered.
Just then, Elphir brought his horse in closer to them, and asked, "How is he doing? Is he behaving?"
"I am, Papa! I am being very good. Am I not, Eomer?" Alphros inquired.
Elphir cleared his throat in amusement, then told his son, "Alphros, you must not be so informal with King Eomer. I may do so because we are friends, but you must call him Lord Eomer as you do other grown men."
"But I am friends with Eomer, too!" Alphros protested. "And he is letting me ride Firefoot!"
Clearly in the boy's mind, that argument settled the matter, but Elphir knew he needed to be more firm on the issue at hand. "I am sure Eomer thinks of you as a friend, but you still must show your manners in addressing him."
A pout was forming on the boy's mouth, and Elphir was concerned where this was heading, but Eomer deftly defused the situation. "I will tell you what, Alphros. As you are also of royal birth, it is appropriate that I show proper respect to you as well. When we are in public and not just around family, we will call each other Lord Alphros or Lord Eomer. Is that agreeable to you?"
The boy grinned at him, "All right!" Then he comfortably leaned back against Eomer's chest and snuggled deeper into the clasp of the king's arms.
Shaking his head in amusement, Elphir murmured to his friend, "You may come to regret that!"
"It is better than an argument and tears, is it not?" Eomer replied, quirking an eyebrow.
"Aye! It is that!" Elphir glanced up and noticed their imminent arrival at the city gates, then nodded to Eomer before riding to join his family.
Eomer watched him go, and then involuntarily glanced again at the carriage. This time the curtain was drawn back and a lovely face was grinning at him. Though not entirely sure why, it made him flush pink again and look away.
Alphros had a thousand questions as they rode through the streets, and Eomer did his best to give adequate answers, but even so, by the time they reached Imrahil's townhouse on the fifth level, he was more than ready to turn the boy back over to his parents. Alcathir hustled her son inside as soon as he was retrieved, and the men of the family began seeing horses, carriages and so forth consigned to their proper places. Eomer had dismounted, waiting for Faramir to join him in returning their own horses to the stables, when a quiet voice at his elbow said, "You are very good with children, my lord."
He looked down into Lothiriel's twinkling grey eyes. She was teasing him; he was sure of it. Giving a shrug, he told her, "I was a boy once. I know something of it."
She gave a laugh that sounded musical to his ears. "Indeed! And what sort of boy were you, if I may ask?"
With a rueful grin, he replied, "A naughty boy, I am sure! I drove my father, and then my uncle, to distraction with my mischief. Fortunately, for Uncle, I grew out of it before too long and he could rest easy."
"I should like to have known you as a boy," she quietly told him.
Just then, Amrothos approached, to Eomer's very great annoyance, and soon after Lothiriel excused herself to go inside with the others as Faramir finally made his way over to Eomer. They didn't bother to remount, and led the horses behind them to the stables on the sixth level. For a time, they were silent, and then Faramir observed, "It seems to me that you look at my cousin a great deal, Eomer."
Refusing to rise to the bait, Eomer shook his head. "You are mistaken. I only look at Amrothos when he is making a spectacle of himself, though I grant you that is rather often."
Faramir snickered, and replied, "I was not speaking of my male cousins, as you very well know." He paused, then added, "There is certainly nothing wrong with your admiration of her, and I suspect her family would be well-pleased if you were inclined to…pursue her."
The hint was unmistakable, but still Eomer was not ready to tip his hand. Not until he and Lothiriel had reached such a decision did he intend to share his thoughts with others. "Perhaps they would, but I have more pressing concerns than lovely ladies. I will consider your…suggestion, all in good time."
Faramir glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but said nothing further as they led the horses into the barn and began seeing them settled. Despite his words, though, Eomer could not shake Lothiriel from his thoughts. She was here, and just as he remembered her. Her ease with him earlier suggested their informality, formed through their correspondence, had survived being reunited in person. Now the tricky part was getting her alone long enough to talk frankly and openly with her, about any possible future they might have together.
Clearly that wasn't going to be easy. While Imrahil's family did join them for supper and conversation afterwards, there was no opportunity or valid reason for Eomer to take Lothiriel aside privately, and so he was forced to settle for gazing at her across a busy room, and trying not to make his watchfulness too noticeable. Already Faramir had picked up on his attentiveness; he did not want others doing likewise.
Meetings again occupied most of Eomer's time the next day, so he did not see Lothiriel until that evening. There was a formal pre-wedding feast, and much of Gondor's nobility was in attendance. Supper was followed by dancing, but Eomer was being approached by too many wanting to speak with him for him to be able to claim the first dance with Lothiriel. Instead, he glimpsed her on the floor with her brother, Erchirion, followed by a long succession of men. Evidently, he was not the only one eager to keep company with her, and she was smilingly obliging to all comers, to his very great annoyance.
He at last had managed to get away from the noblemen who gathered around him like midges, and stood watching the dancers as he drank a goblet of wine. His mood had been deteriorating for a good while, and now he was trying to think of some way to approach Lothiriel for a dance. She was having such a good time, it was clear, in the company of others, that he was not so sure his offer would be of any significance to her. And that was not what he wished.
"Did you think," a voice asked quietly from beside him, "that my sister would not also be admired by others?"
Eomer didn't need to look to know that it was Amrothos, Imrahil's youngest son. He had always found the man a bit annoying with his astute observations, and this was no exception. "Of course not!" he snapped, unable to hide his irritation. He could have explained more, explained that he had thought something of a relationship had been developing via the letters he and Lothiriel had been writing through the course of the winter, but he saw no reason to give Amrothos any further information on the matter.
Amrothos snickered, and Eomer had the uncomfortable feeling he guessed the truth even without the details being admitted. "She is amiable with most people. As the daughter of a Prince, she has been reared to act so. One should never presume more familiarity than is expressed."
Casting a glare at the other man, Eomer drank down the last of the wine in his goblet in a single swallow. "I will keep that in mind. Please excuse me." He moved hastily away to forestall any further conversation, and to reduce the very strong urge to throttle Amrothos. Despite his annoying words, it was not Amrothos' fault that Eomer had believed Lothiriel might have come to think fondly of him, and would welcome his suit.
Pacing the perimeter of the hall, finding movement eased his tension, he suddenly skidded to a halt. What was to say that Lothiriel wouldn't accept his suit? Just because she was admired by others, that did not mean she would refuse him. And, as Amrothos had pointed out, she was raised in a royal court. Marriage to him would be highly desirable. He caught himself up short at the thought, and gave a snort of disgust. He did not desire a wife who married him out of duty. If she could not come to him because of true affection, then he would not offer for her.
"I hope that expression does not mean you have a sour stomach, my lord."
Eomer visibly started at the voice beside him. He had become so lost in his thoughts that he had not noticed Lothiriel approaching. The smile she gave him suggested she knew she had caught him off his guard. He randomly said the first thing that came to mind, "I thought we agreed to call each other by more informal names…Lothiriel."
Her smile broadened. "We did, but that was in letters. I wanted to be sure you wished it to continue in person before I was so presumptuous. And you did not answer my question, Eomer."
She was teasing him; there could be no denying the glint in her eyes as she spoke. He supposed that could be considered a good sign…maybe. "No, I do not have a sour stomach. My thoughts are…disagreeable, hence my expression."
"Possibly I have driven them from your mind, then, as your countenance is much more affable at the present. Perhaps if I stay and talk with you a while, they will not return?"
Yes, she was definitely teasing him, and he couldn't really say he minded all that much. At least she was here, and they were talking, rather than watching her across the room with another man. And maybe this would be his opportunity to explore what her feelings might be for him.
"How could a man be disagreeable in your company?" he asked, giving her a grin.
She laughed easily. "Such flattery! Do you flirt with me, Eomer? That is most unlike you!"
"Is it? A man would be mad not to desire time spent with a charming lady. Have you truly found me so remote as to think flirtation beneath me?"
Her eyes softened, and he wondered what she was thinking. It took a moment before she replied, all the while strolling along the side of the room, and thus pulling him with her in order to maintain the conversation. "Beneath you – no. Indeed, I know of many ladies who would eagerly seek such behavior from you, but you have seemed largely occupied with the worries of your country, and I have not noticed your attention much upon ladies before this. Your 'remoteness' has been quite understandable."
He sighed. Certainly she was correct in her observations. With the exception of the woman walking beside him, he hadn't given much thought to the fairer sex since the War. Doing so seemed far too frivolous in light of the problems he needed to resolve for Rohan. While he had envied Eowyn, and even Aragorn, their happiness in finding love and a marriage companion, he had not felt as though he had the right to turn his attention to such matters as yet. Until now, that is. He needed a wife and heir, and the Riddermark would only be the better as a result, so perhaps it was not so selfish of him to consider it.
Darkness suddenly surrounded them, and Eomer came out of his reverie to notice that Lothiriel had steered their course out to the patio garden just off the main hall. Once his eyes adjusted to the low light of a few torches set around the vicinity to expose the pathway, he could see a few other couples were also enjoying the evening out of doors.
"Do you mind?" she asked, smiling up at him. "I thought some fresh air might be welcome. The hall is rather warm and stuffy."
"Indeed. I do not mind at all," he quickly acknowledged.
She moved over to a low wall that looked out upon the city, and he joined her there. For several long moments, neither of them spoke, but it was not so awkward a silence as he might have expected. At length, she ventured, "From your letters, I know that Rohan is gradually recovering, but what of you? How do you fare?" She turned to look intently into his face.
Her nearness made it difficult to breathe properly. She was a beautiful woman, certainly, but there was something more about this woman in particular. He was not even sure that he knew what precisely it was that drew him to her, but in any gathering it seemed his eyes and thoughts wandered in her direction; indeed, even his feet edged her way if he was not careful.
Forcing his unruly thoughts into some order, he tried to answer truthfully, "I…manage. It will be more difficult with Eowyn gone. I have relied greatly on her knowledge of court matters, and that will be sorely missed. Hopefully I have learned enough to function on my own now."
Her eyes studied his face, and he rather got the impression that she was dissatisfied with his non-committal answer. After a moment, she murmured, "I was not speaking of being king, Eomer. How do you fare, if it is not too audacious of me to inquire?"
He drew a ragged breath at the question. It was a question he had avoided considering for a very long time, not wanting to think much upon his personal feelings. "I, too, am…managing," he answered quietly.
She must have noticed the strain in his voice. "I am sorry. It was wrong of me to pry into your personal–"
"No." He cut her off. "I…I am grateful for your interest, but it is still difficult to…to speak of…" His voice trailed off; he could not think of a reasonable explanation.
To his surprise, her hand came up to rest gently against his cheek. "Do not apologize. I would not make you uncomfortable, nor force you to express thoughts or feelings you prefer to keep private. I am just…concerned, about you. I think you take on more than you ought, and have no one to help bear the burden."
Her hand was cold against his face, and he suddenly realized how chilly the evening had become. Virtually all the other couples had returned inside to the warmth. "I am sorry. I should not have kept you out here in the cold." He still had the short, ceremonial cape draped on his shoulders, so he quickly unclasped it and moved to place it around her. The action put him even closer to her, and when she turned to look up at him in gratitude, she was virtually in his arms. Rational thought fled, and all the objections he might have entertained. Without even realizing it, he leaned in to press his lips to hers, drawing her into his embrace as he did. For several long moments, everything around him disappeared, and there was only this warm, wonderful woman that felt so right in his arms, and tasted so delicious on his lips.
As the need for air encroached, he drew back, but as he did, his head cleared sufficiently to realize the inappropriateness of his actions. Hastily releasing her, he took a step back, a mortified expression on his face. "I…I am sorry! I…I did not intend to be so…so forward!" he stammered.
Her eyes were lit with humor, and she raised an elegant eyebrow at him. "Clearly, it is I who must apologize, Eomer. Apparently I have given you the misimpression that I in some way objected to your behavior!"
As her words registered, he tentatively smiled at her, wanting to be very sure they were in agreement. "Then you did not mind?" Her consent certainly did not guarantee she had feelings for him that might lead her to consider him as a husband, but it was undoubtedly a step in the right direction.
She moved close to him once again, causing him to inhale slightly. "In truth, I found it quite…pleasant!" Eomer had never before particularly liked being teased, but he was beginning to realize he enjoyed that glint she got in her eyes when she wished to toy with him.
Once more, his arms acted of their own accord and drew her close into his embrace. "Indeed? That is excellent news. Perhaps I will venture to risk losing your approbation by taking such liberties again!"
Before he could lean in to make good on his threat, her laughing eyes glittered and her right hand slid up into his hair. Catching hold, she tugged him toward her. "I do recommend your risking it!"
Enthusiastically, he did so, though part of him could not be so at ease as to give in to his full passion. This was new, and clearly she was willing, but there needed to be more before it went any further than a few pleasing kisses in the moonlight. Still, there would be time enough for talk tomorrow!
In the shadow of the door to the hall, Amrothos leaned against the wall and sipped at his wine, observing the kissing couple with a grin. Poor Eomer! Hopelessly lost to his sister's charms, but fortunately for Rohan's king, the feeling seemed quite mutual. It appeared there would soon be another wedding to attend.
TBC