A/N: Almost to the end of this tale. This is a longer chapter and then there is a very short epilogue coming on Sunday. Hope you all have a wonderful and prosperous new year!
Spoils of War
Chapter 11
Only later, when Eomer returned to his room alone, did Eowyn follow and approach him. The knock at his door so soon after he entered took him by surprise, but when he answered to find his sister eyeing him with crossed arms and a suspicious expression, he could not feel caught off his guard.
Stepping back to allow her to come inside, he asked, "Did you want something, Eowyn?"
She wheeled on him as he shut the door, coming straight to the point. "Just when did you become so friendly with Morwen?" she demanded.
He gave a benign look and answered with questions of his own. "No well wishes or congratulations? Are you not pleased I am to take a bride, or do you not care for my choice?"
She waved a dismissive hand. "Do not be foolish! I adore Lothiriel, and I even recommended her to you, if you will recall – of course you have my heartiest congratulations, as you well know! But that has nothing to do with my question, Eomer!"
He sighed, taking her hands in his to draw her over to sit on the side of the bed. "Eowyn, you do not understand the situation, any more than I once did, but I have learned the truth and it changes my view of things. Morwen had good reason to leave the Mark, and unfortunately she also had good reason for not returning. You do not know the whole of her story."
"Eomer! She left us!" Eowyn exclaimed, jumping to her feet and snatching her hands from his, scarcely able to believe she was hearing her brother defend their grandmother.
"No, she did not," Eomer answered quietly, raising a hand to forestall further arguments. "She went to care for her sick daughter and grandchild, fully intending to return. But when they died, those deaths, added to the many she had already suffered through, weighed too heavily upon her spirit, and she went into seclusion in her family home. She knew she should come back, and often wanted to do so, but never seemed to muster the energy for it. And none of her children in the Mark managed to go to visit her either despite promises to do so."
He paused a moment, thinking, then added, "The truth of it is, Eowyn, you have spent your entire life feeling abandoned by someone. First it was Mother and Father, and then as darkness overtook our lands we saw less of Theodred. Finally, even I went, riding to battle while leaving you alone at Meduseld to tend Uncle and fend off Grima's advances." He took her hands again as he said, "I am sorry for that. I never meant it to be so, but know this – none of us wanted to leave you. We only did what we judged best at the time, and did not consider how you might feel about it."
Tears were brimming at Eowyn's eyes, though she fought mightily to keep them in check, but still she gazed at him in dismay. She had never intended that Eomer think she believed he had failed her in some way. It was only his great love for her that had enabled her to keep going despite all else.
"Morwen was right, you know, when we first met – you and she are not so unalike." He pressed on to explain before she could protest the comparison. "Both of you have struggled with great grief and difficulty in your lives, and coped as best you could. In both situations, not everyone found your choices to be acceptable and right, but they were your choices to make. Morwen did what she felt she had to do, just as you felt you must ride to Gondor disguised as a soldier."
He gave a sigh and rested his hands on her shoulders as she still stood unyieldingly in front of him, though her brow was creased as she wrestled with these new thoughts. "There are too few of us left in the house of Eorl. It is time to lay this grievance to rest, buried along with all the other victims of our recent battles. Forgive her, Eowyn, and find peace in this matter. Then it will not continue to be a blight on your life and happiness."
She eyed him with a wry smile. "When did you get to be so wise?"
He grinned, offering a deprecative shrug. "It comes with being king, I think!"
She laughed and slapped his arm. "I doubt that! But you do speak truly and I will try to let go of my hurt. It may take time, though. As you know, we Eorlingas have very long memories!"
He chuckled and rose to press a kiss to her forehead. "Aye, that we do!"
They had talked longer, but once Eowyn had departed, Eomer collapsed into a chair. He had hardly dared hope it would go so well, but she had been more receptive than anticipated. Suddenly everything that had been going wrong in his life seemed to have found its way back on track, and that was reassuring. As he glanced toward the window, he remembered that he was due to leave this land very soon. That being the case, there was a great deal he needed to get done first.
Shoving to his feet, he strode purposefully to the door and down to Imrahil's office. Lothiriel had agreed to marry him, and the Prince had consented, but he wanted the details set before he left. Given his preference, they would be married immediately and he would take her home with him, but there were other matters to consider that made that untenable.
As it happened, the door to the office was open, revealing an impromptu family gathering taking place. At Eomer's knock, all eyes turned in his direction and he was eagerly welcomed into their midst, but the most pleasing development was Lothiriel's delight at seeing him. He realized how very disgruntled he had become by her constant avoidance of him, however deserved it was. With an arm about her shoulders, he addressed Imrahil, saying, "I suspect there is much we should discuss before I take my leave later this week. May we set a date and make arrangements?"
Imrahil waved everyone to seats and took his own behind his desk. "What did you have in mind, my friend? I will need to know Rohan's expectations before I can make decisions. I doubt very much that your protocols are entirely the same as ours."
Eomer considered a moment, then replied, "Normally, the Eorlingas do not tarry overlong on such matters. Once a couple decides to wed, and there are no objections, the deed is done within the week. In this instance, however, I think we must act differently. I shall ride on ahead and make preparations at Edoras to receive you, while Lothiriel gathers her belongings and makes the journey from Minas Tirith as was done for the funeral of my uncle. I am sure Aragorn will wish to accompany you."
Lothiriel's brow had creased and she asked hesitantly, "Could we not marry before you left and then I would travel with you?" She was not at all inclined to bid goodbye to her betrothed so soon.
The king grinned and shook his head. "My love, if I wed you here and now, I am not sure that I could bear to leave you. But I must go – it cannot be delayed longer – and so I must deny myself anything that would hinder my departure."
"But if I went with you –" she persisted, only to be cut off.
"No. I need to return by way of the Dimholt. Aragorn assures me that the way is clear, but I would not have you come until I know for myself that it is completely safe. And I do not wish to make you endure the discomforts of such a journey." He paused a moment and then added, "Additionally, I think we should take some time to talk and come to know one another better. Though we have been in each other's company a great deal, and I do not doubt our feelings, I believe it can only strengthen our love for one another. I would not rush you into marriage after I have taken so long in becoming ready."
With a sigh of resignation, Lothiriel gave a nod of acceptance to his wisdom, despite it not being her preference. Her father seconded the king's proposal. "A wise decision, to be sure. Were you to attempt a wedding before Eomer leaves, you would be too busy with the details to have much time to spend with each other. I think that is more important than hasty nuptials."
The three brothers now entered the conversation with a discussion of the considerations that needed to be made and determining the logistics. In the end, it was decided that the wedding would take place in two months time at Edoras. That would be sufficient for travel and all other necessary arrangements. Once a date was chosen, Eomer mostly just listened, allowing the talk to flow around him. His part would come once he had returned home; for now only Dol Amroth could act.
Despite the satisfaction of having the planning underway, two days later when Eomer found himself alone in the garden while Lothiriel was otherwise occupied, he discovered he was restless. He had always considered himself a practical man, and he had never allowed sentiment to interfere when doing what needed to be done. But, now, he saw that it was not so simple a thing to set aside sentiment, especially when it meant choosing between following his heart and fulfilling his duty.
The more he spent time in Lothiriel's company, the more assured he felt of his regard for her, and the more unseemly his thoughts became pertaining to her. At least unseemly prior to marriage, anyway. It was more difficult than he had imagined delaying their joining together as husband and wife, and his thoughts constantly dwelled on finding some way for it to be possible to wed her now and take her home with him. But his efforts were futile for he knew what must be done, even if he did not like the knowing.
By the end of the week he had come to terms with the situation, having steeled himself to act accordingly. Lothiriel had insisted on helping him pack his clothing, and Haldor had tolerantly stepped aside to permit it, seeming to understand. It was nearly time for his final supper with the family as his party would be departing at first light on the morrow. Lothiriel ran a caressing hand over the last shirt to be packed and then suggested, "Shall we walk in the garden before the meal?"
Eomer's ready nod of agreement brought a smile to her lips and the pair left arm in arm. They strolled for some time in silence until Eomer inquired, "You will see Morwen home and then assist her in joining in the bridal party?"
"Of course," she reassured. "I would not dream of leaving her out of any of it. Though she never did anything specifically to bring us together, I cannot think that she played no part at all. Our conversations about you, Eowyn and the Mark, coupled with my focus on overcoming the dispute that lay between the three of you – all of that helped keep you in my notice. And, I am sure, in some way aided in growing my feelings for you."
He laughed. "My disagreeable, unyielding manner enticed you, did it?" he asked, recalling how unbending he had been.
"No, not that," she giggled. "It was more that I saw in your eyes and your manner that your heart was at odds with your head, and I believed your heart would come off the victor given enough time."
His eyes narrowed as he asked, "How have you come to know me so well? I confessed my turmoil to no one."
"Perhaps I looked to see," she answered with a shrug. "But it was there, I assure you. A question, a look, a gesture – perhaps you did not intend them to be seen, or did not realize they were noticed, but you often almost bridged the gap with your grandmother, in spite of yourself."
Eomer drew her into his arms and favored her with a lingering kiss before remarking, "I am doubly blessed, for you are as wise as you are beautiful, my love. I am not certain I am so worthy as you deem me, but I shall endeavor to be so if it pleases you!"
Laying her head against his chest and enjoying the steady thump of his heartbeat, she assured him, "You will not disappoint me. I am sure of it."
xxxxx
Even Morwen came out for the leave-taking early the following morning, though she remained at the top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard. Before he descended, Eomer bid her farewell, and wished her a safe and easy journey home and then on to Edoras.
"I will be fine, I am sure, and nothing would prevent me being there for your wedding," she assured him.
He grinned and then said teasingly, "In my joy, I even invite Morlach to come!"
She laughed. "Why would you not? He never gives you any difficulty!" she retorted.
After a kiss to her cheek, he moved on, bidding goodbye to his friends and sister until only Lothiriel remained. He could see the tears she fought to restrain, and knew she very much wished to be riding out with him, but it was for the best that she did not. "We will see each other soon," he said softly, drawing her into his embrace so that she pressed her face into his shoulder. "The trip on the Dimholt road will be difficult and unpleasant. We would not be able to enjoy one another's company even if you were to come."
"You are right, I know," she answered, turning her head so she could be heard. "I just do not like being separated from you now that we have found each other."
"Then come to me quickly," he said, holding her more tightly and kissing the top of her head. "And I will make sure all is in readiness." After several long moments, he bent and kissed her softly, but did not linger over it, knowing it would make the leaving more difficult. "Soon, my love."
"Soon," she replied, her voice quavering, as they stepped apart. He smiled lovingly at her, then turned quickly and stepped up into the saddle.
"Imrahil, my thanks for your hospitality. I shall see you directly, and I thank you again for the gift of your daughter." He glanced at his sister, then added, "Aragorn claimed that I gave Rohan's fairest gem to Gondor when Eowyn wed Faramir. I am inclined to think Gondor has now returned the favor."
The Prince reached up with a smile, clasping arms with the young king. "We shall look forward to seeing you at Edoras in a short while. Safe journey to you."
As the horses clattered out of the yard on the cobbled road, Lothiriel stood watching until they were completely gone out of sight beyond the gate. Arms wrapped comfortingly around her from behind, and Amrothos told her, "It will not be so very long, dearest. You will be so busy getting ready and packing everything that you will hardly notice the time flying by. Now, come inside and turn your thoughts to the future rather than stand here and miss him."
xxxxx
Just as Eomer had expected, the journey over the mountain was not a pleasant one. Even without ghosts and orcs, there was always the travel and making camp each night in strange places, where necessities had to be found. At least, to Eomer's relief, Aragorn was right about the pass through the mountain. Though his men had been fearful to enter, they had followed him without mishap.
After so long an absence, Eomer was tempted to go straight on to Edoras, but with a wedding coming up soon he thought it likely he would not wish to travel a great deal for some time afterwards. That being the case, he turned west to visit the Hornburg and check on the situation there. Making their way through the Westfold, they saw that progress had been made in rebuilding homes and sewing new crops. Gimli had kept his word and sent dwarves to help repair the damage to the Deeping Wall and other structures, and he was pleased with all that his eyes saw.
They spent two nights there, enjoying Erkenbrand's company and receiving his report of doings in the West-mark. At last it was time to go, but there was one more stop Eomer wished to make first. Another turn to the west took them to the Isen and the burial mounds at the Fords.
Alone, he walked to Theodred's resting place and stood gazing upon it, lost in thought. After a moment, he murmured, "You would have liked her, Brother. She will make a fine queen for the Mark. I only wish you could be here to share in my joy." He was overcome with emotion for a moment, but then grinned. "And it will please you to know I have made my peace with Grandmother. Eowyn still resists, but I believe she will come around. Your death was not in vain, Theodred. All we fought to defend, and to bring about, has indeed been achieved. Rest in peace, dear cousin."
Straightening, he checked the emotions cluttering his countenance and turned back to his horse. Time to get home and prepare to receive his bride.
xxxxx (late July)
Amrothos had been correct that packing and preparing for her move to Rohan did keep Lothiriel occupied, at least most of the time. And when it did not, Morwen was quite happy to tell her more of the Mark and its people. Three weeks after Eomer's departure, they were on the boat headed to Minas Tirith, where Aragorn was pleased to congratulate her in person. He had been delighted by the news sent from Imrahil shortly after the betrothal had taken place. After a couple of days rest, Lothiriel and Morwen traveled to Lossarnach, to check on things there and allow Morwen to collect some fresh belongings. The weather would be cooler as they headed north, even though the days were still quite warm. September was drawing near and the evenings could get quite chilly.
It was a much smaller party, with fewer wagons and carriages, than had made the trip for Theoden's funeral, and so they were able to make better time. The wheeled vehicles still moved more slowly, but there were fewer tents to raise and lower each day and the smaller group was much easier to manage.
While Eomer had mentioned his conversation with Eowyn regarding Morwen, it was clear to Lothiriel that her friend still had not approached Morwen. She had rather hoped that matter would be resolved before the wedding, but such things could not be forced. Eowyn must come to it in her own time. At least now she did occasionally glimpse Eowyn casting thoughtful gazes at her grandmother. That was encouraging.
Just as for Theoden's funeral, the trek was long, dusty and tedious, though this time Lothiriel was more distracted by thoughts of what was to come. Their final night before arriving, they stopped at Aldburg, and Lothiriel was grateful for the bed after so long sleeping on the ground. In that respect, she felt assured Eomer had been right not to let her accompany him over the Dimholt. She was not especially good at sleeping out of doors.
Though it had initially amused her, Lothiriel came to appreciate that Eomer had left Eothain behind in service to his future queen, as guard and to see her safely to Edoras. With her father's honor guard of Swan Knights, one man seemed superfluous, but it turned out that he had a ready supply of tales about Eomer that were unlike any she was apt to hear elsewhere, and it gave her greater insight into her future husband's character. She was not exactly surprised by Eothain's stories of Eomer's humor and generosity, but those were sides of him that were not readily apparent to the casual acquaintance. Once they were betrothed, she had discovered more of his humor; she was sure she would see the generosity as well during their life together.
Between Eothain's stories, and what Eowyn told her of Eomer's life, Lothiriel was utterly enthralled, and came to love Eomer even more, if that were possible. She had never tried to love him, but it had been easy to do so. While he was a quiet, serious man – dour, Morwen had once called him – he was also, at times, warm, engaging and even humorous. He had suffered much but borne it well, and given some happiness in his life, she felt sure he would shine brightly in his role as king.
There were many women who had been eager to catch his notice, and she had not been able to keep from wondering what it would be like to stand beside him as queen of Rohan. But if she had not liked the man who was king of Rohan – liked him immensely – she would never have considered for even a moment accepting that role. That she had loved him almost from their first meeting had made her refusal of him the most painful thing she had ever done.
When they departed Aldburg, Lothiriel knew her journey was nearly at an end. It seemed far longer than a mere two months since she had last seen Eomer, and despite the flurry of letters they had taxed couriers with carrying between them, Lothiriel almost felt as though she was going to meet a stranger. After all, she really had not known him so very long. But, in the next instant, a flood of warmth reminded her that she had known him long enough, and that she had the rest of their lives to learn more. Once the nerves passed, she became restless with the inactivity of sitting still.
She had thought Morwen was asleep, leaning her head into the corner against a pillow with Morlach settled across her lap. That suited her just fine on their last day of travel, for Lothiriel's anxiety left her too distracted to be good company. The little dog had apparently sensed her fretfulness for he raised his head to eye her curiously a time or two, though she barely noticed. Then Morwen's voice broke into her frenzied thoughts, "I have never seen you so ill at ease, Lothiriel. What troubles you, child? Do you have concerns about the marriage?"
She jumped slightly at the realization that Morwen was not only awake but aware of her agitation. "No," she sighed, at length, "not concerns, exactly." She paused, considering, then tried to explain further. "It is just that I never expected to return to Edoras as her prospective queen. Will…will the Eorlingas approve of me, do you think?"
Morwen opened her eyes and smiled reassuringly at her. "Perhaps initially they will be cautious, but when they see how happy you make Eomer and how capable you are, then you will earn their respect…and their love, just as Eomer has done. These are not a people who are easily wooed, but once won over they are stalwart to the end. And I have no doubt you will win them to you."
Lothiriel gave a shaky smile of gratitude and tried to relax back into the cushions as Morwen closed her eyes once more. She managed fairly well until they reached the road which split off from the Great West Road and led to the city gates. Unable to resist, Lothiriel leaned into the window, seeking a glimpse of the Golden Hall, her stomach suddenly twitching with nerves. The journey here had seemed to take forever, but now that they were so close she couldn't decide if they were moving too slowly or too quickly.
Morwen's quiet, amused voice said behind her, "It would be appropriate for the future queen of the Mark to ride into the city on horseback rather than in a carriage."
Lothiriel sat back to look at her friend, hesitating despite her own inclination to do just that. "Would it not be better that I arrive in a more…ladylike manner? I think Father would prefer it."
Morwen's lips pressed together slightly, suppressing a smile. "I am sure he would, but your concern now must be with the people you will serve, and they would take a different view."
Lothiriel still hesitated, remarking, "But I have no horse. I left Gaermith in Dol Amroth since Eomer wishes to give me a horse of the Mark. Besides, with his pulled stifle, he would never have managed the journey."
Morwen glanced out the window before suggesting, "I am sure Eowyn would lend you her mount. She would understand what you were doing."
Lothiriel bit her lip, sheepishly yielding to the encouragement. Despite her protests, she very much preferred doing as Morwen recommended. Turning back to the window, she called to Eowyn and quickly explained. A moment later, the carriage was stopped while they traded places.
Eowyn settled into the carriage with a mixture of delight and tension. She could appreciate Lothiriel's wanting to ride, but having to share the enclosed space alone with her grandmother was not something she desired. They rode in total silence for several minutes before a thought occurred to Eowyn, and her eyes narrowed speculatively as they gazed on Morwen. "You told her to do this?"
Morwen shrugged slightly. "I did not tell her to do it; I merely mentioned that it would be appropriate and she chose to act on her own."
Eowyn's lips twitched at the answer, trying to hide her amusement at the less-than-innocent response. Just then there was a shout, and Eowyn was quickly at the window. She could see little, however, so she called to Faramir, asking what was happening.
He drew his horse closer to the carriage, an amused smile on his face. "Lothiriel has just taken off at a gallop toward Edoras, and is ignoring Imrahil's pleas for her to stop!"
This was too much for Eowyn to bear seated sedately in a carriage. Casting her gaze about, her eyes fell on Eothain riding nearby. "Eothain! Lend me your horse. Stop the carriage! I am not going to miss this!"
Eothain and the carriage halted simultaneously, and Eowyn was instantly out the door and hurrying toward him. He swung down and stepped clear as she scrambled into the saddle and adjusted the stirrups. When she was settled and reached for the reins, the big man commented, "She's moving at a fair clip, but he ought to be able to catch her before she reaches the top!"
Eowyn flashed him a grin and dug in her heels, the great stallion spurting almost instantly into a ground-covering gallop. They raced past those ahead of them, charging for the city gates. Faramir watched for a mere moment before shrugging and taking off after his wife.
Imrahil was left sputtering in frustration where he rode beside Elessar at the head of their party. His dignified, formal entry into the city was certainly not going as planned. Nearby, his sons were all eyeing one another, unsure what to do, but Amrothos glanced between his father and the departing riders several times, and then took off after them before Imrahil could object. The prince quickly scowled at the remaining two sons, saying, "Do not even think about it!"
Imrahil's aggravation caused a chuckle to erupt from Elessar. "Be at peace, my friend," the king told him. "This is not the breach of decorum it would be in Gondor. Indeed, the Rohirrim are apt to more greatly esteem your daughter for her daring!" Reluctantly, the prince accepted the inevitable with good grace.
Eothain had been right – his stallion had gained most of the distance between him and Lothiriel by the time she was only halfway up the hill. Hearing another horse, Lothiriel had glanced back with trepidation, but when she discovered it was Eowyn rather than her father, she made no effort to draw rein. Faramir and Amrothos were not gaining so quickly, their horses unused to climbing this steep of a hill at a fast clip.
Townspeople from the lower end of town had set up a hue and cry at the spectacle, and boys raced beside them, laughing and cheering the riders onward. Others, hearing the uproar, came to see what was happening and were soon caught up as well, either murmuring among themselves about it or adding their own cheers.
At the top, Eomer watched the approaching riders in amusement. At first he had thought it must be Eowyn riding out ahead of the others, since he recognized Windfola, but he quickly realized it was not his sister. The others on the terrace seemed a bit puzzled by what was happening, but Gamling stood to his left and chuckled softly. "It would appear that your bride is eager to end her journey, Sire!"
"No more eager than I am for it to end," he replied firmly, generating an understanding nod in response. Eomer was almost tempted to hasten down the stairs to meet her in the courtyard by the spring where she would dismount, but he restrained himself, curious to see what she would do.
A few moments later, Lothiriel and Eowyn came to a stop and dropped off their horses, almost as out of breath as their mounts. Normally, Eowyn would have seen to her own horse first and foremost, but she also wanted to see what came next and so shoved her reins into the hands of a waiting stablehand and followed Lothiriel up the steps. At the top, Lothiriel finally pulled her gaze from being solely focused on Eomer to realize that his advisors and other dignitaries of the city were gathered there. Her sense of decorum overwhelmed her personal inclination and she came to a stop before Eomer, dropping into a low, graceful curtsy. "My lord king, I am come at your request," she said formally.
Before Eomer could give an appropriate response, Lothiriel glanced up to meet his eyes and the fire she saw there broke her resolve. He had reached out a hand to accept her greeting and raise her from the curtsy, but instead she launched herself into his arms and welcomed the kiss that readily was given. The nerves were gone and so was everyone around them; there was nothing else but being held in the arms of the man she loved. By the time they drew breath, Faramir and Amrothos had joined them on the terrace and she discovered the townspeople were loudly cheering their approval of her fervent display. Instantly, her cheeks flushed crimson, but Eomer held her fast at his side when she sought to step away and attempt more seemly behavior.
"Too late, my love," he murmured, so low that only she could hear. "You have shown your true colors and there is no hiding it now, nor would I wish it!" He cast a teasing glance out of the corner of his eye, and she relaxed slightly, reassured that she had not embarrassed him.
Later, Lothiriel would be grateful for the way she had greeted him. Once her father and brothers arrived with the King and Queen of Gondor, everyone adjourned inside where they were whisked off to their rooms for the duration of the festivities. And that was the last Lothiriel saw of Eomer for some time. He was kept much occupied with guests, and she was equally encumbered with those of her own as well as servants eager to meet their soon-to-be-new mistress and queen. Even once everyone had gathered for supper and conversation, Lothiriel was unable to get away to approach the king.
As the meal concluded, the crowd gathered thick around each of them again. An hour later, Lothiriel had not so much as seen Eomer for some time. Early on, she had gotten glimpses of him across the room, but the well-wishers were persistent and numerous, effectively keeping the couple apart virtually the entire evening. She had to content herself with memories of her enthusiastic greeting of him upon her arrival. At the rate things were going, she might not be allowed near him again until the actual wedding took place. Sipping a glass of wine, she wandered over near the tapestries on the wall, hoping for a moment of solitude before she rejoined the throng.
When she had tarried as long as she dared, she went to set the glass on a table, then turned, drawing a deep breath to ready herself. Before she could take a step, however, a powerful arm snaked around her waist and a large, rough hand clamped over her mouth. In an instant, without even a chance to call out in alarm, she was swept through a hidden passage behind one of the tapestries and carried a short distance down the darkened hall lit only with two dim lanterns.
A mouth pressed against her ear and she relaxed with relief at the words spoken. "Something is very wrong when the king must kidnap his betrothed in order to spend even five minutes with her!" She heard the pout in his voice as he added, "After that greeting you gave me, I had expected you would make more of an effort to escape their clutches!"
As his hold on her eased, she turned in his arms, leaning against the wall behind her. "I would gladly have done so, beloved, but I do not know the secrets of Meduseld well enough yet to act so effectively as you have!" She reached up and drew him to her in a kiss, first whispering, "Let me make amends!"
Several long moments later, he sighed and she felt his grin as he commented, "Very nice. But I deem you are still owing me compensation for the pain I have suffered. Shall you tell me another amusing story, in your own inimitable way?"
"A story! Now?" she laughed. "Why would you wish to hear a silly story?"
"Do not belittle your storytelling," he admonished. "Do you know, I rather think that is when I first began to fall in love with you – as I listened to that ridiculous tale, told with all your flourishes and expression. I did not realize it at the time, but I have never forgotten how you sounded and looked at that moment. It always brings a smile to my face."
"I am glad," she said, stroking his face. "Though I had no notion it meant so much to you."
"You should know, however," he told her, "that your brother vehemently denies your version of things. When I mentioned it to him, he swore that your facts were in error."
"Bah!" she said, pushing at him. "Who will you believe – him or me? I assure you my version is the most accurate. Amrothos just is too embarrased to admit it!"
He leaned back into her and suggested, "Then perhaps you should attempt to persuade me to your way of thinking…"
With a giggle, she complied.
But their interlude was not to last long, for the very same brother they had been discussing suddenly appeared. "Nice how the tapestries conceal these doors," he remarked, causing the couple to jump apart in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" Lothiriel asked irritably. "Surely there is enough to keep you occupied in the hall."
"Aye, there is. Enough to keep the two of you occupied also," he replied, emphasizing his final remark. "I am sure Father would very much like to see you return very soon, once you have tidied your appearance, that is."
Eomer sighed. "Likely he is right and we should go back in, for now. But I do not intend to be kept entirely away from you until we are married." Then he added pointedly in Amrothos' direction, "And no one had better attempt it, if they are wise!"
Amrothos laughed. "Your threats are wasted on me, Brother. If Lothiriel does not mind your behavior, then I have no objections. It is Father with whom you must contend. He has a Gondorian mindset of propriety and will only tolerate so much. Do keep within acceptable bounds."
Eomer nodded his understanding of the counsel, and agreement to heed it, as he offered his arm to Lothiriel. She finished patting her hair back into place and straightened her clothing, before taking it and the three moved toward the celebration. As they walked, Eomer remarked with a smirk, "I am amazed by your lack of concern regarding my behavior with Lothiriel. Most brothers are not so…tolerant."
"You did not seem concerned about Faramir and your sister. Why should you be amazed?" Amrothos challenged in return.
"Yes, but in my case I know Eowyn is perfectly capable of discouraging unwelcome attention from a man!" Eomer retorted.
They had reached the door back to the hall and Amrothos tugged it open, then flashed Eomer a wicked grin. "So is Lothiriel!" he snickered, and stepped out of sight past the tapestry.
Eomer's eyebrows rose and he looked down at the demure woman on his arm. "Indeed! It would seem your talents are far greater than I imagined. I still have much to learn about you!" Laughing, they followed Amrothos' path back into the gathering.
xxxxx
Though married and no longer truly the mistress of Meduseld, Eowyn had felt it appropriate to serve in that role for the duration of her brother's wedding celebration. Meduseld's housekeeper was quite capable, but she had been grateful for the assistance with the influx of so many guests and so much to be done. Being only slightly more than a year since they had similarly gathered to honor Theoden prior to his burial, the moment was somewhat bittersweet for Eowyn. She had been trothplighted just after the funeral and so the sorrow had been tempered with joy then, and in some ways that was the case now also. Looking around her she could not fail to realize that she would see little of her homeland in the coming years. There would be visits, of course, but life and distance would mean they would not come very often. And, yet, she could not be entirely melancholy when Eomer was to wed. It eased her heart to know that he would not be alone now that she was gone.
As for herself, she needed a few minutes of time when someone wasn't clamoring for guidance or instruction. Consequently, she had wandered out to the garden. She had been here two days already without having a chance to come and see the progress. After Lothiriel's efforts last year, they had taken her suggestion about finding a widow in need of employment to tend it. There were many of those and two had been given the task, a satisfactory solution for all of them. What Lothiriel had begun was now mostly finished other than for the day-to-day tending of it.
Eowyn stretched as she gazed about, idly moving toward the bench that had been placed here the previous spring so visitors could sit and enjoy the beauty. To her surprise, her destination was not unoccupied – Morwen sat there, watching as Morlach rolled and snuffled on a patch of grass under a tree.
For a moment she hesitated, unnoticed, but then with a deep breath of conviction, she moved forward, asking, "May I join you?" She had not been able to bring herself to approach her grandmother before this, but when the woman had sent Lothiriel charging up the hill on horseback, something had changed. She could not say precisely what it was, but neither could she feel quite the enmity toward Morwen that she always had. As Eomer had said, it was time to end this.
Morwen's left eyebrow rose in surprise, but she merely smiled and nodded toward the bench beside her. That first step had been the easy part; acting further was more difficult, and they sat in silence. As she cast about for something to say, Eowyn's eyes fell on the walking stick Morwen had laid beside her against the bench. Only on this trip from Gondor had she seen the older woman using such a device to steady herself.
"You have taken to using a walking stick, I notice. Are you feeling unsteady?" Eowyn asked benignly, hoping that would lead into conversation.
"Not especially, though certainly at my age caution is always wise," Morwen replied. For a moment, Eowyn thought they would lapse into silence again, but then Morwen added, "In truth, the walking stick is for you."
"For me?" she asked in surprise. "I have no need of such a thing." Her brow knit in confusion, unable to think Morwen believed her so feeble.
"Not to use as it was intended, no," Morwen answered quietly. "Hopefully any such need in that regard is many years into your future. No," she murmured, taking the stick into her hands and fingering the worn carvings that etched it, "there is another reason for my giving it to you."
More silence ensued, and Eowyn waited less than patiently for her to continue, but stubbornly would not ask any questions. Finally, Morwen explained, "This was made by Eomund for your mother. When she was heavy with child, it helped her to make her way around, especially in Edoras with its steep hill. I thought you should have something of your parents, something with more meaning than just furniture or clothing that you inherited."
A lump in her throat prevented Eowyn speaking for a moment, but then she forced herself to respond, "If it was made by Father, it should go to Eomer. He has followed in that path of carving wood."
"True, but Eomund is not the one who taught him and so he does not especially connect it to his father. Besides which, I think you are more in need of a connection to your parents. Eomer was older when they died and had more time to know them," Morwen told her, offering the walking stick to her.
Part of her was still hesitant, but after just a moment's pause, she reached for it. As she ran a hand along it, examining the various things Eomund had chosen to incorporate into its design, a tear slipped down her cheek. She barely remembered her parents, save for what she had been told about them by others. The ice that seemed to have formed in her chest on that day long ago, when the children had been told their mother had followed their father in death, now began a trickling thaw. She had been called cold more than once in the course of her life, and she had never questioned why for she always felt cold inside – until Faramir…and now. The sun had never been able to pierce the chill within her, but the love of family was now accomplishing the task.
"Thank you," she whispered. "This means a great deal to me." She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "How…how is it that you came by it if it was made for Mother?"
"After Theodwyn died, Theoden sent it to me as a remembrance, and possibly because he thought I might have need of it as the years advanced. It has served both purposes on occasion. I can obtain other walking sticks if necessary, but now the remembrance will carry on even after I pass from mortal life. I rather like that idea," Morwen said, giving her a warm smile.
Morlach wandered over to join his mistress then and she bent to attach his leash. "I think I should get a little rest before supper, my dear, if you will excuse me."
Quickly Eowyn was on her feet and helping her grandmother to rise, then walked with her back to her room in the first truly comfortable silence that they had shared.
After lovingly securing the walking stick in her room, Eowyn returned to the necessary work of the household. The final guests were arriving today and there was a welcoming gathering tonight. Then, tomorrow, Eomer would wed. At long last the Mark would once more have a queen. It seemed the darkness of Mordor was finally fully lifted from their lives.
xx
Eomer leaned back and let his eyes rove the hall in contentment. He had fought long and hard to achieve such cheer as he was witnessing, but in the darkness that had surrounded them in the past years he had despaired of their being successful. To his left, Morwen made a comment and, astonishingly, Eowyn laughed in response. He raised an eyebrow as he watched them, unable to repress the smile twitching at his lips. He knew not when they had finally reconciled, and it little mattered. The only thing of consequence was that they had.
Inevitably, his eyes flicked to the woman seated at his right and he reached for her hand, giving her a loving smile when she met his gaze. The recent conflict had brought many changes in their land, and to his life personally, though not the usual spoils of war. He had regained family that once was lost to him, and soon he would begin a family of his own, helping to ensure that the Mark would continue long after he was gone. At this moment, life was very, very good, and he himself was blessed.
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.
ch 11: Stifle: The stifle is the joint in the hind leg that is most similar to a human knee. The stifle joint is manipulated by a variety of muscles, ligaments, tendons that can be subject to injury. Located approximately in the juncture of the front of the hind leg with the body.