Spoils of War
Chapter 9
Lothiriel enjoyed dancing and parties, but when she was the hostess often her mind was too much on the details to fully appreciate the actuality. This was such an occasion, as her eyes flitted around the room, making sure all was in order and the guests were enjoying themselves. Food and drink were in place, the musicians were plying their trade, and all she saw appeared to be having a good time. In particular, Faramir was thoroughly pleased with the opportunity to squire his bride on the dance floor, and she smiled fondly at them as they moved past her. Though she was not up to dancing, even Morwen had chosen to attend, and was seated at a small table with a good view of the room.
As the current dance ended, Faramir went to speak with Morwen, and Lothiriel was grateful to him for the effort. Eowyn had, not unexpectedly, moved away to talk with others rather than approach her grandmother with him. Progress had been made in repairing Morwen's relationship with Eomer, but there was still much ground to cover with regard to Eowyn. That could not be Lothiriel's focus just now, however, as she had duties that needed her attention.
Gathered toward one end of the hall was the group of ladies Lothiriel preferred to avoid – preferred but could not do so when acting as her father's hostess. With a soft sigh of reluctance, she wandered in their direction to give greeting, though she intended to keep it as brief as possible and quickly make her escape to more pleasing company. Her approach went unnoticed, and she could overhear the conversation they were not attempting to hide; it set her teeth on edge with anger.
"I suppose the woman is lovely…in a rough sort of way, but I cannot imagine what our dear Steward was thinking to take a warrior as a wife! She will never fit in at the royal court!" Lady Ungaphel sniped, and several of her cronies bobbed their heads in agreement with evident relish.
Not pausing to consider whether it was wise to do so, Lothiriel made her arrival known with a firm clearing of her throat. All eyes turned to focus on her, though she noticed they did not bother to look chagrined; they thought her too meek for them to be cowed by her presence. Well, they would soon see that this kitten had claws! "You would do well to remember that not only is Faramir's 'warrior' bride an honored guest in this house, but she is also close friends with Gondor's king and sister to the King of Rohan. But even if none of that were true, she would still be a beloved cousin and friend to me and my family. She is brave and beautiful, intelligent and kind. None in the house of Dol Amroth takes kindly to those who would speak disparagingly of her, or abuse her behind her back!" With a look around the circle that told each she meant full well what she said, she turned on her heel and stalked away, disgusted with the lot of them. How dare they come here and behave so abominably!
There were some nervous titters among the group as they watched her go, but all fell silent when a moment later the king of Rohan stepped through a nearby door. He cast one cool look at them that spoke volumes of disdain, and then moved away as though he feared contaminating himself with their very nearness. A few of the women, who had been eyeing the young king with aspirations to sit beside him on a throne, now blanched white as they realized any possibility for that had instantly evaporated.
Eomer hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the discussion, but he had gone outside for some air and was returning, unaware of what he would find. He had been on the verge of charging angrily in and taking them to task himself when Lothiriel had put in appearance and done a very fine job of it for him. A grin tweaked at his mouth. Apparently he was not the only one against whom she was well able to hold her own! But he was grateful for her defense of Eowyn. Likely it had been more effective coming from her than from him. He was tempted to go and thank Lothiriel, but was hesitant to do so. She never seemed comfortable when he approached her lately, and it would be a shame to have his gratitude be a burden to her.
Morwen was seated at the side of the room, still speaking with Faramir, but she had witnessed Lothiriel's angry charge down the length of the hall as she left the group at the other end. The Steward noticed a shadow pass over Morwen's features, and turned to see where her gaze was focused. His cousin was agitatedly sipping some wine, clearly upset, but before he could remark on it, Morwen told him quietly, "The crebain of Belfalas are at it again, I see."
He turned to arch an eyebrow at her, amused by the appellation she had given but immediately understanding her reference, thanks to his conversations with Merry. There seemed to be a similar group attached to every royal court; those who liked to gossip and backbite others in order to bolster their own self-esteem. "They are the cause of Lothiriel's unrest?" he questioned.
"Yes. No telling what cutting remarks she has overheard, but I would wager she did not tolerate them."
They were not the only ones to note Lothiriel's unease, and Eowyn had hastened to join her before Faramir could consider acting. Catching Lothiriel's elbow, she drew her aside and asked softly, "What has happened?"
Lothiriel was at a loss how to respond, given the circumstances, but oblivious to the awkwardness she was causing by her questions, Eowyn pressed, "Tell me."
With a sigh, Lothiriel answered, "It is nothing. They are merely jealous, because you accomplished what they never could."
"What do you mean?" Eowyn asked curiously, glancing around in order to determine to whom Lothiriel might be making reference.
"They…the ladies of Gondor long wished to lay claim to either Boromir or Faramir. As sons of the ruling Steward, they were the most desirable of marital prospects, but neither showed any particular interest in any of the eager masses. That you did what they could not rankles them, and they belittle you to soothe their wounded pride."
"Ah," Eowyn said, beginning to understand. She bit her lip and then grinned at Lothiriel. "Pay them no mind, dear friend, for I do not. I have never had any use for jealous harpies. And, as to their words, well they had best keep in mind who will loom large in Gondor's royal court at all future gatherings. I could make things very uncomfortable for them!"
Lothiriel stifled a laugh behind her hand, but then raised her chin defiantly. "As can I here in Dol Amroth. They will find themselves under attack from two warrior princesses!"
While Eowyn was helping to improve Lothiriel's mood, Eomer was not so fortunate. One of the young ladies who had been eagerly eyeing him now managed to corner him, blithely oblivious to his ill-humor and the fact that she was being more of a nuisance than an enticement.
"My lord Eomer!" she exclaimed as she sidled up to him, all smiles and flirtatious fluttering. "I am so pleased you could be with us tonight. It is such a great honor to meet such a renowned person. Why, my brothers have spoken so highly of you that I think surely you must be the bravest man in all the land!" She giggled at her own remarks, edging a step closer to him.
Maintaining his reserve, he replied benignly, "I hardly think that is likely. All warriors are brave – they must be to face the dangers of battle. I am nothing special in that regard."
"Oh no, my lord King! You are too modest!" she gushed in return. Now she laid a small white hand on his arm as she assured him of her sincerity and conviction in the matter, gazing adoringly up at him. Her hand gave a tiny squeeze and she added, "Oh, you are so strong! Why, the orcs must have fled in terror just at the sight of your coming after them!"
This was getting to be more than Eomer could stomach, but he saw no easy way to politely escape. While his mind sought an excuse, Lothiriel had returned to her hostessing duties and had noticed his predicament. Lady Pethraen was well known, having just come of age as the war ended. Since that time, she had been chasing every handsome, eligible male to be found. Her beauty drew their attention initially, but most soon turned tail and ran when she became too cloying for them to tolerate. Even Amrothos had briefly endured her attentions.
"Eomer-King? I hope you will pardon my intrusion," Lothiriel said, approaching the couple and earning a tiny scowl from Pethraen. "Queen Morwen has requested to speak with you and I said I would bring you word. Shall you attend her?"
"Of course," Eomer readily acknowledged, thankful for a reason to disengage from the young lady. While he was not expecting such a summons, he was not about to argue with providence. "I hope you will excuse me," he said to Pethraen with a slight bow, and then moved quickly away before she could object, or worse, offer to accompany him.
Lothiriel smiled pleasantly at Pethraen also, before continuing on her circuit of the hall. She knew the girl was irritated with her, but she could hardly make Eomer endure that for the remainder of the night, and Pethraen was tenacious. Once having gotten her hooks in, she was hard to shake. She had followed Amrothos around all night at one dance. Come to think of it, she would have to ask him how he had finally managed to elude the girl, and keep her from returning.
Morwen raised a surprised eyebrow when her grandson approached. Despite the eased tension, she had not expected him to spend a great deal of time with her, though she had noticed his previous company was not to his taste.
"You wished to speak with me, my lady?" he asked, dropping into a nearby chair.
"Did I?" Morwen replied, looking even more surprised.
"That is what Lothiriel said just now – that she was sent to fetch me on your behalf," Eomer explained, slightly puzzled by Morwen's response.
Morwen chuckled softly. "Indeed? Good for her! She is an excellent hostess!"
For a moment, Eomer did not grasp her meaning, and then realization flooded through him – Lothiriel had come to his rescue. "So, you did not request my presence, I take it?"
"No, dear boy, but I am glad to have it all the same. I would enjoy a short visit with you, if you are so inclined. No, Lothiriel merely saw that you had been unhappily cornered by the young lady and wanted to give you an opportunity to escape, if that was in fact your desire. I suspect she was correct."
"Very much so!" Eomer avowed. "The girl is lovely, there is no denying, but her senseless babbling was driving me mad! I know there are noblewomen who can speak sensibly; why is it that I seem to attract those who cannot?"
"Because you are a handsome man, a famous warrior and a king as well. Those virtues will attract most women – sensible or otherwise, though there is a great deal of 'otherwise' in every court," Morwen explained. "Do not think too harshly of the girl. She is very young, and eager to make a good marriage match. She does not see that her manner is not conducive to achieving it. Eventually, she will either calm down or there will be a man silly enough to take her for her beauty and not worry about the rest."
"Well, until she does, I shall sit here with you. Most seem too in awe of you to approach," he teased, and Morwen chuckled again.
"One has to work hard to achieve that sort of distance, but it does have the advantage of keeping the most annoying ones away," she explained. "Were it appropriate to bring Morlach to such events, I could keep all of the unwanted adulators at bay. He is most efficient at prompting them to cut short their accolades and make a hasty exit!"
Eomer grinned. "I always wondered why you were so attached to him. Now it is clear – he is a tool!"
His grandmother's expression sobered slightly and she nodded, but corrected, "And a dear friend. For all the difficulty that he can be, we are devoted to one another. I would not have you think otherwise."
He met her gaze and then remarked, "Which also explains why Lothiriel has become so fond of him. She has learned to see what you see in him."
His gaze flicked around the room, seeking the subject of their conversation, and Morwen eyes also turned toward the young woman. "Likely you are right in that."
After rescuing Eomer, Lothiriel had retreated to the side for another glass of wine. Already she was tired, and would be very glad when the evening came to an end. There was far too much drama going on at tonight's gathering. A voice close to her left ear almost made her drop the wine glass. "Nicely done, Sister!" Amrothos told her with a laugh, noting how she jumped at his sudden appearance.
"I have told you not to do that!" Lothiriel chastised, giving him her best glare, though he was unfazed by it.
"True, but you know I never listen to people telling me what to do," he calmly replied, snaring her wine glass and taking a swallow from it.
"Yes, but I thought you might show greater deference when the person in question was your beloved sister!" she hissed, as she snatched her wine glass away from him and gave him a reproving glare. Unfortunately, she was not nearly so annoyed as she was trying to appear, and he well knew it.
"You are indeed beloved," he agreed, "but, no, that is not sufficient to make me listen to you telling me something that I do not wish to hear!" He grinned disarmingly at her and she couldn't help but laugh and shake her head in defeat.
"At any rate, I only came to applaud your handling of Lady Pethraen and her siege of Eomer. After your masterful extrication of him from her clutches, he is sure to propose marriage now if he has not already!" he teased.
She nearly choked on the wine she was sipping, wondering if he knew something. Her face pinked and she looked away from her brother for a moment before telling him firmly, "An act of kindness is hardly grounds for marriage, Amrothos. Where did you get such a silly notion?" She tried to act incredulous, but she had the horrible suspicion that he knew or was guessing that there might be more, or at least that there could be.
Handing him the wine glass, she gave him a shove. "Go. Annoy someone else. I have too much to do tonight to be dealing with the likes of you. And try to keep out of trouble!" She moved quickly away before he could pursue their previous conversation any further. She had not intended her coming to Eomer's aid as anything other than being a good hostess. Hopefully Eomer would not similarly misconstrue it as more. And she would need to be more careful lest her other family members' thoughts wander in the same direction as Amrothos' had strayed.
Lothiriel did not notice Amrothos eyeing her speculatively as she floated around the room overseeing details. He had forgotten about her unrest at Minas Tirith a few months ago as it had appeared to be connected to Morwen's indisposition at the time. Now he was not so sure that was true. The mere mention of Eomer in connection with marriage had greatly unsettled his sister; he was sure of it, despite all her efforts to conceal it. Now that he thought on it, the two of them had seemed rather friendly the previous year, but ever since Eowyn's wedding they had kept a polite distance from each other most of the time.
He knew his sister well, but mostly he knew how good she was at hiding her thoughts behind an inscrutable mask. That was one lesson she had easily learned from Aunt Ivriniel. But he also had seen the flash of pain in Lothiriel's eyes, for just an instant, along with the alarm that she was discovered. He could not think Eomer had behaved improperly toward his sister, and her actions did not suggest that was the case, but something had happened between them, and it had hurt Lothiriel. It was still hurting Lothiriel; of that he was certain. Finishing the wine in the glass, he set it on a nearby table, vowing to himself to keep a closer eye on the situation, and act if necessary.
The evening slowly wore down to its conclusion, and several were not sorry to see it end. Morwen had left the gathering more than an hour earlier, and Lothiriel gave her final instructions to the servants before wearily taking herself off to bed. Eomer was to leave in a week's time and likely there was not time for another dance. At least she could be grateful for that.
xxxxx
Eomer had a restless night. He tossed and turned some time before going to sit on the balcony in the moonlight. At first he was not sure what was at the root of his turmoil, but when his thoughts persistently kept returning to Lothiriel, he could no longer pretend she had nothing to do with it.
Soon he would be on the road home, and it felt very wrong to be leaving here with matters unsettled between them. He had made peace with Morwen; he very much wanted to make peace with Lothiriel also. Peace. No, that wasn't entirely accurate, though it was part of it. More and more he was beginning to see that his hasty proposal had preceded his actually developing feelings for her. Only now did he truly recognize all the fine qualities others had been telling him she possessed, but more than that he knew that he was truly attracted to her as he had not been before. The very great question was whether or not he was too late, whether or not too much damage had been done for her to even consider him.
With a heavy sigh, he returned to his bed, but sleep was slow to take him. The next morning, the household took its time to get moving after the previous night's festivities, and Eomer was up before anyone else was about. The servants kept a basket of fruit in his room, so he snared an apple to munch on as he wandered out to the garden. It had become one of his refuges for solitary reverie, and he was rarely disturbed there.
Eomer had been lost in his ruminations for some time when a familiar voice brought him jarringly back to the present. "Does something trouble you, dear boy?" Morwen inquired, pausing where she stood to see if he would invite her company.
He blinked several times and then straightened, letting out a heavy sigh. "I…there is just a great deal on my mind lately," he answered laconically.
She took a few steps nearer, still judging her welcome, and asked, "Is it something of which you would speak? Perhaps a fresh perspective would help you to reason more clearly."
He considered the offer for a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps." With a gesture, he indicated she should join him, and she settled onto the bench at his side. Even so, once she was seated, he did not quite know how to begin such a conversation, and they tarried in silence.
At length, Morwen prompted, "Does this concern the difficulties you face in restoring the Mark?"
Eomer sighed again. "No, not particularly…well, I suppose in a roundabout manner it does." He frowned, then took a stab at better explaining himself. "I…the more I consider Lothiriel, and the more that I am around her, the more I see…" He stopped, scowling again.
"See that you gave her too little credit initially, but that on closer study find she is much more than you originally deemed?" Morwen suggested.
His head jerked back in surprise as he gave his grandmother a sharp look. Still, though perhaps not the words he would have chosen, her explanation was essentially correct. With a sigh, he looked away and nodded.
After several minutes of silence between them, he asked quietly, not looking at her while he spoke, "Has she said anything to you? About me? I get the impression…well, I do not think she enjoys my company."
"No, but that is to be expected," Morwen observed, and he could not resist turning to meet her gaze. A raised eyebrow prompted her to continue, and she complied. "She is wary of you because she cannot be sure what you will do next. While she was able to refuse you, and have you accept that without raising a fuss, she is not entirely sure that this matter will not still be mentioned to her father, and that pressure will be brought to bear to change her mind. She does not know you well enough to feel certain where the situation stands."
"I cannot believe Imrahil would force her to act against her own inclinations," Eomer avowed.
"No," Morwen said, raising a calming hand, "but you must understand her position. The daughter of a prince refusing a marriage offer from a king who is both friend and ally to her family, her own king and her country is…unusual. If it were generally known that she had done so, the sympathy would be all on your side. And she would be made to feel the great weight of her folly in rejecting so great an honor. Even if neither Imrahil nor Elessar pressed her to act differently, the people of Gondor would likely express…displeasure with her behavior. Your words and actions can have powerful repercussions upon her happiness and well-being."
"She is to be commended for her sense, not ridiculed! I would not allow that to happen!" Eomer replied vehemently. He dropped his face into his hands and rubbed it tiredly. This all seemed to get more and more complicated with every passing minute.
"I did not think that you would," Morwen reassured with a gentle smile, "but I wanted you to see this matter through Gondor's eyes. It is not what you are used to in the Mark." She allowed him to consider this a moment, then questioned, "May I ask you something – without meaning to pry?"
He nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare unseeingly out over the garden. "What are your feelings for Lothiriel now? When she refused you, Lothiriel indicated that you 'did not love her', so I would assume you gave her that impression, and likely it was an accurate one. Has the situation altered?"
After several long moments, Eomer slowly nodded. "I thought…I thought I was doing the right thing in quickly resolving the issue of a wife by marriage to a woman that I found agreeable, even if I did not love her. It was fortunate for me that she was thinking more rationally than I was. But as I have continued to be in her company, and had other confrontations with her that bettered my opinion of her, I have come to realize there is something more." He did not elaborate; his grandmother did not need to know of his admiring her figure, or her bared legs that day on the beach. Morwen certainly did not need to know how many times he had wanted to take the girl in his arms and kiss her senseless. He had tried convincing himself it was merely loneliness fueling such desires, but with each hour that passed in Lothiriel's company, he knew ever more assuredly that it was a much deeper, steadfast emotion spurring his ardor. Somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with her, but considering their past dealings it seemed unlikely he could pursue her now.
Quietly, Morwen observed, "Though Lothiriel has never specifically spoken of what feelings she may or may not have for you, I suspect they are much stronger than she would have anyone know. Sometimes the things people leave unspoken say far more than words ever could."
Eomer's eyebrows twitched together as he turned to eye his grandmother, scarcely believing she was offering words of hope. "You think there might still be…a chance?" he questioned.
"It will not be easy, of course, but yes I do think there is a possibility that the two of you might be able to overcome that regrettable proposal. However, I can only mention to you that it might be so – you will have to figure out how to accomplish it," she warned. Heaving herself to her feet, she smiled down at her grandson and added, "Keep in mind that more than anything else, Lothiriel was hurt that you would approach her with so little feeling in your offer. And she will continue to be guarded around you so long as she fears that you may hurt her again. But, I wish you well. Do not wait too long to set things right. This is painful for the both of you, I am sure."
With that final bit of advice, Morwen shuffled off down the path, leaving Eomer to ponder what he had learned. He did not have much time to do so, for Erchirion put in appearance soon after and drew him in for break of fast. It appeared his friends thought they had been neglecting him, for over the meal it was decided that the long-discussed boat ride would take place. They left as soon as the meal was ended, spending the morning scudding over the waves and skimming past lushly tropical islands.
Eomer had taken up position on the bow of the boat, enjoying the sun on his face and the wind in his hair. Looking a bit more nervous about the whole thing, Eowyn was finally enticed by Faramir to join her brother there and the three stood in silent comraderie.
"How do you like it?" Erchirion inquired, coming to join them once he was free to do so. The wind had calmed and for the moment they were moving more slowly. Amrothos was keeping watch on the sails in case a sudden gust should catch them unprepared.
"It is exhiliarating," Eomer acknowledged. "I have never been much interested in the water except to do some fishing now and then." He grinned at his friend. "However, I doubt I will ever prove the enthusiast that you are. I find the companionship of a horse more enticing!"
Erchirion laughed with him, but shrugged. "You do make a valid point, but I still prefer this to all other pursuits, even horses. Perhaps you can persuade Amrothos to your way of thinking."
"Not likely," his brother called from where he stood, keeping an eye on things but listening to the conversation. "Horses are fine, but this… I cannot explain it, but this touches something within me as nothing else does. Maybe it is just that the sea is in our blood, being born of sea kings along the shore."
"Well, I must side with Eomer," Eowyn interjected. "Having water on all sides makes me a little nervous. I prefer solid ground and a sturdy horse to carry me."
All eyes turned automatically to Faramir for his opinion, but he laughed and shook his head. "No, do not draw me into the debate for I will not be the tiebreaking vote for you! When we return, possibly you can convince Lothiriel to give her opinion, though I suspect my cousin is too wise to step into that trap."
Everyone laughed at the diplomatic response, and the argument was dropped since neither side felt the need to prove the other one wrong. "Why did Lothiriel not accompany us?" Eomer asked, turning back to the railing. Erchirion had relieved Amrothos on the lines and he was now coming forward to join them. "I thought I understood that she enjoyed sailing also."
Amrothos' eyes narrowed at the question and he studied the back of Eomer's head for a moment before replying, "I do not know. Maybe she had other things that needed doing, and she can sail most any time she wishes. Erchirion is not difficult to entice into an outing, as you may have noticed." He still hadn't worked out what was happening between his sister and the king, but either Eomer was unaware of it or unwilling to discuss it. Either way, he very much suspected Lothiriel had foregone the outing so as to avoid the close quarters with Eomer.
Given his own preference, Erchirion would have stayed on the water all day, but realizing his guests were not likely to find that so pleasant as he did, they turned for home in time to arrive for a late dinner. The seemingly toil-free outing, at least for those not doing the actual work of sailing, left the three guests rather sleepy, so after the meal they went to their rooms to enjoy a rare nap.
TBC
Spoils of war - Any profits extracted as the result of winning a war or other military activity.
Halgeth – "tall woman" – maidservant to Morwen
Zimran – "adorned man" – Forlong's heir (Tolkien never named him so I did)
Minleoth - "my song" - name given to 1st dau of Thengel & Morwen
Ethelwyn – noble joy - name given to 2nd dau of Thengel & Morwen
Tamleoth – "gentle song" - name given to 3rd dau of Thengel & Morwen
Morlach – "black fire" - Morwen's dog
Betersel – "more happiness" – Eomer's housekeeper at Aldburg (also used in previous stories, ie. Juxtaposition)
Haldor - "sound door" – Eomer's manservant
Ungaphel – "daughter of shadow" – backbiting Dol Amroth noblewoman
Pethraen – "wandering words" – airheaded girl flirting with Eomer
Gaermith – "grey sea" - Lothiriel's horse that pulled a stifle
Frame of reference (details from Tolkien with gapfiller by me):
Aglahad, Prince of Dol Amroth, had two sons: Angelimir (the heir and grandfather to Imrahil) and a younger brother who was the father of Morwen. Morwen was born about 2922 and married Thengel in 2943. They had Minleoth (b 2945, m 2975, d 2989 – no children); Theoden (b 2948, m Elfhild 2976, d 3019 – one son, Theodred, b 2978, d 3019); Ethelwyn (b 2951, m 2982, d 2994 – one daughter, b 2986, died 2994); Tamleoth (b 2956, never married, d 2992); and Theodwyn (b 2963, married Eomund 2989, d 3002). Thengel became king in 2953 whereupon he and his family moved to Rohan, where he died in 2980.