"Is it true, what they say about you Rohirric riders?" she asked on the fourth morning of their travel as they were in the middle of a lengthy breakfast. Apparently they had travelled so fast that they could afford some leisure, which he enjoyed very much.
"Is what true?" Éomer asked back and sat up straight.
"Amrothos said that you don't need a saddle or reins for your horse. That you can control your steed just with your legs and your voice", Lothíriel said. There was an air of contentment about her, something he had not seen before... except perhaps on that night he had taken her for a ride. He rather liked this serene Lothíriel. But then, he liked her no matter her mood. She could have been screaming her head off at him and he'd still have adored her.
"Of course it's true. Like I've told you before, we don't take pride in our horsemanship for nothing", he said. "Do you want to see?"
"You show-off", Lothíriel snorted, but couldn't hide a smile. "Well, go ahead. I might as well see if there's truth about what they say about you. We're not in a hurry, after all."
He grinned, leaped up on his feet and called Firefoot with a high-pitched whistle. His stallion sauntered to him obediently and at his order in Rohirric, lowered himself down so that he could mount the animal. Then Firefoot rose up on his feet.
Riding bareback and without reins had been something Éomer had mastered long ago. In fact, it was something all riders learned to do, though it was not a skill one often needed. Really, it was more of a testimony of man's horsemanship and also proof of the loyalty of a man and his horse, so the symbolic value was greater than the utility. It required one taught one's steed well and that there was trust between the animal and the rider. One of the first things a Rohirric warrior learned was that a bond of trust between a man and his mount could one day save both their lives.
He rode Firefoot around the camp and had the animal perform some tricks that would have been considered stately even in Rohan, and he felt pleased when he noticed Lothíriel's appreciative expression. In quiet Rohirric, he promised Firefoot a basket of apples for that.
"Very impressive", Lothíriel said once he had slipped down and ushered Firefoot back to where Erchirion's steed was.
"Thank you, my lady", he said and took again his seat across her. It was not by any means uncommon in the Mark for the men do their best and more to impress the ladies, but it had been quite a while since Éomer himself had participated in such feats. In fact, these days he'd have been more interested in unimpressing some of the overly eager ladies. Funny how one's sudden change in status from a Marshal to King could drive people mad like that.
"You probably know it well, but you look very good horseback", she said and he couldn't help a smug little smile.
"Why thank you, my lady. That is most kind of you", he said, trying to sound modest. She extended one leg to kick his thigh.
"You oaf", she scolded, "I should know by now not to compliment you. You always make a joke of it."
"I am sorry. I'm just not always sure if you're jesting or not", he quickly apologised. He'd be damned if he upset her.
"Just take the bloody compliment when it's given to you", she told him, avoiding his gaze.
"I will try to do so", he promised. "It is just that... well, you seemed frequently so displeased with me when we first met that I'm still sometimes unsure whether you really welcome my attention or if you just bear it for the sake of friendship between your father and myself."
Lothíriel looked abashed at first, and then a look of embarrassment came to her. She looked away when she spoke: "I'm sorry if I've made you feel so. Truthfully, you did frustrate me at first, but not anymore. Please don't think that I'm just pretending. I like you, and... and the way you are so real and genuine..."
She fell silent for a while, staring down on her hands. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet.
"I appreciate it. And I know now I can trust you. It means a lot to me", she said quietly, and her voice was thick with what he thought were tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly she stood up and wiped a hand across her eyes. "We should get going."
They gathered their things and cleaned up the camp in silence, but once they were on the road again, she lightened up and most of their ride was spent in pleasant, lazy conversations. He told her of Rohan, and of Edoras, and she eagerly listened. Sometimes she'd ask questions about this or that person or event, and in their talks time went by quickly. All the way they had travelled, he had noted they never went too far from the sea, which was on their left, and he had his own ideas of where they were riding. But as he had decided before, he did not ask and let her lead the way.
That night, they made camp again as on the previous days and spent supper in lively conversation about horses and riding, but when they had eaten, this serious look came to her face.
"I suppose I ought to tell you that tomorrow we should meet Éothain and your men, if Amrothos has kept his word and told them where to ride", she said at length. "And likely we will be seeing my father too, because I know he won't be able to resist the temptation of lecturing me the first chance he gets."
"So we are headed for Edhellond?" he asked.
"Yes. You'd have ridden that way anyway, so I decided I'd escort you there... by abducting you, of course", she said and assumed a completely innocent face.
"But that's not all of it, my lady. Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly and studying her intently. "You wouldn't have gone through all this trouble just to escort me there, when you could have asked your father to come along as far as Edhellond."
"No. That's not all of it", she allowed softly, her face again turning serious.
"Then why did you truly kidnap me?" he asked.
"Because I wanted to watch you. See how you would be when we were completely alone while there was no one else around. How you would treat me, and..." she said, but then she hesitated.
"And what?" he pressed on, however.
"If you would take the opportunity and seduce me", Lothíriel said, her voice plain and hard. It surprised him and he leant back as he understood.
"You were testing my character", he said slowly.
"Yes. I'm sorry if that offends you. I know I can trust you. I understand that now. But I..." she started and again fell silent, and a troubled look came to her face.
"You've been burned in past, haven't you? I was right when I assumed some man has hurt you", Éomer said. He realised he was not offended, not like he might have been if it had been anyone else. But Lothíriel was different. If this was what she needed to feel secure... well, for her he'd do anything. So he told her: "It's fine. I'm not angry."
She let out a small sob and when she looked at him, there were tears in her eyes. Quickly, he got on his feet and made his way to her; then he sat beside her and pulled her close.
"For you, anything", he said softly as she sniffed and desperately tried to get a hold of herself. But his words only made her moan and cry even more, and at first he was worried, until she looked up and he saw she smiled.
"I didn't think I'd ever hear anyone tell me something like that", she stammered. He met her gaze gravely and pulled her closer.
"I'd die for you", he told her, and his voice was plain and declarative as he spoke those words – not at all like he had thought it would be. But it brought about that smile he loved, and Béma, he adored her.
"I'd rather you live for me. With me", she said softly. Gently, she placed a hand on his cheek and leaned up to kiss him, and he eagerly returned her affection. It went on for long and was just about to turn something more when she pulled back. Her tears had dried and she looked more at peace now, but her expression was still serious.
"Would you like to hear the rest of the story?" she asked. He just nodded quietly as an answer.
Lothíriel sat quiet for a while, her eyes fixed on the camp fire. Then, at last, she started to speak.
"His name is Lachol. He was a nephew to one of my father's greater lords... his uncle had no own children, so Lachol was made the heir when he was very young. But his uncle was not really the father type, and Lachol's own parents died when he was but a child, so he was sent to my father's court to be raised among my brothers – he is about the same age as Erchirion. I, however, never saw him as a brother. When I was a child, I thought him my best friend. And when I came of age... well, you can probably guess what happened. Lachol was my first love", she began, speaking in soft and slow tones. Éomer listened silently and absent-mindedly ran his fingers through her hair. He could tell this was a painful memory, and he wished to ease her discomfort.
"Lachol seemed to like me as well. At least he never gave any indication that my childish affections bothered him. It all was very amorous of course, complete with silly love letters and other things like that, as you can probably imagine. I was completely infatuated and everything he did just fuelled it more. We made all kinds of promises about how we would get married and live in a castle by the sea. Perhaps all that could even have happened. Lachol would one day be a high lord – high enough for my father and my late uncle to allow me to marry him", she continued and settled closer to Éomer. He held her a bit tighter then, still sitting quiet.
"It was three years ago now that his time in Dol Amroth came to an end. Since the old times, Lachol's House had been tasked with protecting our shores from pirates, and it was a tradition of their family for all young men, even the heirs, to serve on board for a while. Lachol's uncle was anxious for him to also serve his time, and so he had to leave my father's court. I was scared of course, because the pirates had become bolder and their attacks on our coast more frequent. Even on a strong warship he might lose his life... but there was no way I could ask him to stay. I could just hope for the best and that he'd return safely", Lothíriel said. Again she fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was more quiet, and he could hear the echoes of old pain in there.
"I was so scared he wouldn't come back. So on one of his last nights in Dol Amroth, I sneaked into his room to see him. As you can probably guess, there was not too much talking... but we did not go to the very end. He'd have wanted, though. He asked me several times, and each time he was more demanding. But I would not say yes, because I was scared a child would be conceived. It wasn't innocent, though... I did let him touch me like a husband would touch a wife, and vice versa. Then he asked again to have me, almost angrily. I might have given in had they not called him then, and I had to hide in the balcony. Apparently village by coast had been attacked and the captain of that ship Lachol was assigned to serve on was going to pursue the pirates as soon as the men could be gathered. So he left and I stayed in Dol Amroth to wait for his return", she spoke and a shudder went through her. Ever so gently, Éomer kissed her temple, if just to console her. She settled again and continued her tale.
"He did return before half a year had gone by. They carried him back on a bier, barely alive. Lachol had taken injury in a battle and they brought him to Dol Amroth to recover, as his uncle had better faith in our healers than his own. His wounds were so serious that for a while it looked like he would indeed die, but somehow he fought and survived. I stayed beside him until he was able to leave his sickbed, hoping that maybe the day of our wedding would soon be settled. I was wrong to hope for such thing, though", she sighed quietly.
"After he was healed, Lachol was... different. I have no other word for it. At first I did not really notice it – I was still too infatuated. But soon I begun to realise that he was not really the same man I had loved. Or perhaps he was, but he just did not feel anything for me. Nonetheless, his behaviour towards me had become cooler, more distant... as if I was someone he had only just met. When I confronted him and demanded to know what was wrong with him, he told me to stop pestering him. He was... well, he was cruel, and I won't recite his words here. The next day, he left Dol Amroth and despite all my attempts to contact him, all the letters I sent him, Lachol never answered. Eventually I gave up, hoping time would change his mind. However it was that very fall when news came to Dol Amroth, saying Lachol had got married", Lothíriel said, and though her voice was plain, he knew it was not an easy thing to speak of this out loud. And no wonder, for to trust someone like she had trusted this man and then suffer betrayal would have been a hard thing to handle even if one was not young like she had been. Éomer found himself growling in frustrated anger and he would have liked nothing better than knocking down the man who had broken her heart.
"He never boasted of having carnal knowledge of the Princess of Dol Amroth, not wide and loudly at least. I don't really have any illusions left anymore. The Lachol who came back from battle was not the same man I knew... and I think he'd have made jest of it had he not feared that my brothers would go after him. But he must have spoken something, because people began to talk... and sometimes, when I see them looking at me, I know what they think of me. They don't see someone who was young and didn't know better, but some hussy with no manners or virtue. I wouldn't mind if it wasn't like you said. In Gondor the lady's good reputation means the world", she finished at last and lowered her gaze, as if waiting for him to criticise her too.
However, he gently lifted and turned her face so that he could meet her eyes, and for a quiet moment he gazed at her, hoping she'd read from his eyes how little he cared for whatever mistakes there was in her past.
"Lothíriel", he began, trying to find the right words – the kind to thoroughly convince her. "Like I told you before, at this point you could reveal you have two heads and I would not care. Obviously you think that I would somehow take insult in your past errors. But I do not, because I do not believe in these twisted morals that a woman is only as good as her virtue. It's not your fault, after all. You were betrayed and if anyone should be ashamed, it is him. The only thing I am sorry for is the pain you had to endure because of this... this man. And I love you just as I loved you yesterday. Let me tell you this, min sæides: you need only point me to the direction of this Lachol and I will ride to meet him, and I will bring back his hide for you, if you so will."
There was a muffled little sob on her lips, and then she threw her arms about his neck. He pulled her into his lap and she held on to him tight as she cried in relief. Then she kissed him many times, almost to the point of bathing his face. And he pulled her close, and there was so much he wanted to tell her, such need to make her understand he didn't mind... that no mistake of past could make him love her less.
She rested her forehead against his and breathed heavily, cradling his bearded cheeks between her hands. His heart raced fast, and it felt too big for his chest... the need for her was almost painful. Not many things seemed to make sense ever since he had become a king, but this did, it was so obvious that he'd love her...
"Éomer", she spoke his name, breathless and urgent.
"I'm here. Lothíriel. Lothíriel", he murmured, seeking her lips with his.
"... yes. Yes", she said then, almost too quiet for him to hear.
"Yes?" he asked.
"That is my answer", she said, again looking like she might burst in tears once more. "To your question, I mean. The Lion will have his Lioness. Yes. I'll marry you!"
His heart leapt, picking up speed again. And he might have cried, he didn't know, because he was kissing her and she was there, close to him, she'd be his and he'd be hers, and it was so beautiful and perfect and oh Valar, Lothíriel said yes...
"I love you. I love you", he told her, probably sounding only half coherent in between his kisses. She answered with equal passion, and Béma, he had never wanted a woman like he now wanted her. As he pulled back slightly and looked at her, he knew she'd let him have her right here and now if he just asked, and the temptation was bad.
But he wasn't like the man who had broken her heart. No. He'd keep his word, he'd marry her, and only then would he ask for her affections. Only if she was willing.
The Lothíriel he wanted was one that returned his love.
And the words she uttered were as if answered to his thoughts and his wish: "I love you too."
A/N: Seems that a small flu and being confined to bed is most stimulating for my muse... So you're treated with another early update! Hope you like it. :)
