Lothíriel woke an hour before dawn. After dressing, she crept down the stairs from her attic room. The first door she encountered was the linen closet. Slipping inside, she found the hidden door and opened it. She treaded softly down the stairs into the pantry. She placed a prewritten note on the kitchen table, which merely said she was called away and would return as soon as she could. Wrapping herself in a grey cloak, she exited the house and into the chilly morning air. The sky was still quite dark, but she knew the way well enough. She entered the palace and slipped by the many guards until she reached the empty hallway that led to the tower.
When she arrived, Éomer awaited her. He held a lantern in his hand. He whispered, "The door is locked."
"No matter," said she, "I have the key." She pulled out the key from a convenient pocket in her dress and unlocked the door.
"What is it that you wish to show me?" questioned Éomer as they made their way up the stairs.
"When the sun rises, what do you see?" she asked in return.
He thought a moment before answering, "A light in the distant east, spreading warmth, and a new day like a bird spreading its wings."
Lothíriel smiled and said, "In the mornings, a different picture unfolds, for me at least. When the sky begins to shed its starry cloak, the ocean churns uneasily. Then at the break of dawn, countless white horses rear from the waves and spring forth to bring the light of day to all the land. That is what I hope you see this morning."
Éomer smiled to himself, for he found this girl to be rather strange in speech and mind. They reached a door at the end of the stairs. Lothíriel opened it and entered a circular room. Éomer extinguished the light in his lamp and set it on the floor. She quickly located a ladder and set it against the wall. Climbing up, she revealed at trap door in the ceiling and soon disappeared. Éomer followed her onto a narrow balcony that encircled spiral roof of the tower.
"The sun shall rise in a few moments," Lothíriel remarked after carefully analyzing the light in the sky.
Soon, the sun peeked over the horizon. As Éomer watched the light quickly spread over the land, he fancied white horses galloping. He blinked, thinking his mind was playing a trick, but the horses remained, joyfully scampering into the west. One of the horses shone brighter than the rest. A star shone from the horse's forehead
Lothíriel gripped his arm. He wordlessly wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close. Éomer glanced into her face. A beautiful light danced in her eyes, and her face practically shone. She pulled away and climbed down the ladder. As he followed, he heard her laugh and clap with joy.
When he reached the bottom, he immediately saw the reason for her joy. The wooden floor turned into a grassy carpet. Engraved in the walls were many beautiful carvings. Vines blooming with white and blue flowers took the place of the ceiling with sunlight filtering through the green leaves. In the center stood a magnificent marble stature of a rearing stallion with a horn as frozen waves crashed against the rock the horse stood in.
The stone horse suddenly transformed into a living one. He stepped regally down from his puzzle and nuzzled Lothíriel affectionately. When he turned his head to greet Éomer, Éomer recognized the horse he glimpsed during the sunrise.
"This is Calacondo," Lothíriel said. "He is the one who brought us together."
Remembering his manners, Éomer bowed and said, "I am most honored."
Calacondo approached Éomer until he stood before the rather speechless human. He touched Éomer with his horn, showing him many things from the past and future.
Suddenly, Éomer found himself in a barren room with Lothíriel. A weak light shone through the window.
Éomer stammered, "What happened?"
Lothíriel smiled, "You witnessed the heralds of the light, and Calacondo, Prince of the Heralds of Light, revealed himself to you. He told you something, too, did he not?"
"Yes, he showed me many strange events," Éomer murmured, still in a daze from his encounter with the horned horse.
Lothíriel quietly took his hand and the lamp and led Éomer down the stairs. They exited the tower without a word.
Pausing, Lothíriel remarked, "I must leave you here before anyone sees us. Your room is down that hall." She gestured towards the direction of his room.
Éomer shook himself out of his trance. He bowed and said, "Thank you, Lady Lothíriel, for showing me the truth. I never would have believed if you had not."
She smiled and replied, "You best take your lamp back." She held it out to him.
He accepted it and took hold of her hand, murmuring, "One day." He broke off his sentence and let go of her hand. Without another word, he hurried down the hall to his room.
As she walked to her home, Lothíriel wondered what Éomer's parting words meant. He left no hint to what he meant, which left an infinite number of possible answers. Perhaps he would explain himself before he left for Rohan.
For the rest of the day, Éomer purposely avoided meeting with Aragorn and his elven relatives. The last thing he needed was an elf seeing his thoughts. For most of the day, he recalled the morning's magical events. He was almost sure that it was not a dream. Lothíriel believed it to be a reality, not a fantasy.
The next day, Éomer purposely rose before the dawn to watch the sunrise. The white horses of light only reaffirmed the events from the morning before. After breakfast, he did not have a chance to speak with Lothíriel. However, that evening would be a small gathering with the King and Queen of Gondor, his closet counselors, and the elves. That would allow him to officially meet Lady Lothíriel, making future encounters less scandalous.
After supper, Erchirion pulled Éomer aside and remarked bluntly, "Father is fond of you."
"I beg your pardon?" Éomer answered, not understanding Erchirion.
He replied, "We are distant kin through your grandmother. For your age, you are also an experienced warrior, for you received nary a scratch during the Battle of Pelennor Field. My father feels a bond through blood and experience between our family and you."
"May I ask why you tell me this?"
"Because we shall become more than distant kin and brothers-in-arms," he answered cryptically before departing to keep his younger brother from accidently starting trouble.
Prince Imrahil soon beckoned to him. He asked, "How are you faring? I have not been able to speak with you in depth."
"All is well, friend," rejoined Éomer. "Rohan shall recover well if all my calculations are correct. As for myself, I am still learning my role though I am reconciled to my new status."
Imrahil remarked thoughtfully, "Your task is difficult to bear alone, but I can offer a way to make it lighter. My sons are well trained for roles of political authority. If you wish it, I am fairly certain they would not mind imparting some of what they learned. I would do it myself, but learning to be a political leader is difficult. I am afraid it takes more time than I can give you."
"You have already helped me by supporting me during darker days," Éomer said.
"Lothíriel," Imrahil called upon seeing his daughter approach. "I wish you to meet a dear friend of mine."
Lothíriel obeyed her father. Her eyes showed no flicker of previously meeting the King of Rohan, but her smile and a slight blush hinted at previous encounters. Not noticing his daughter's reactions, Imrahil introduced his daughter to Éomer.
"Your sister and I became acquainted while she resided in the Houses in Healing," she remarked. "May I enquire after her wellbeing?"
"She was quite hale and hearty when I left her," Éomer said. "She is preparing for the funeral and a hand-fasting. With the elves and the King and Queen of Gondor accompanying the procession, she is especially occupied."
Imrahil excused himself to attend to his wife. Once he was out of earshot, Éomer said, "This morning, I watched the sunrise. It was not quite as beautiful as the previous morning, but it was still quite stirring. Also I wish to ask your pardon for my abrupt departure yesterday."
"Then you do not think me a deluded person?" Lothíriel half-questioned. She added, "You did leave me mystified, but I have perplexed you for many years."
Éomer shook his head. He added in a low voice, "I should like to speak more deeply about the topic, but not here. Perhaps I can meet you in the library tomorrow afternoon?"
Lothíriel nodded and whispered, "The archives are below the library. It is even quieter there." She curtsied and excused herself.