All characters of LOTR are copyright of J.R.R. Tolkien and Tolkien Enterprise. Unless otherwise stated, most personality and physical appearance are based on both Tolkien and Sir Peter Jackson's Lord of The Ring Trilogy.

To be wearing plain dimity and fustian in a room full of satin, velvet and diamonds takes an effort of will = means to be among those higher status (either wealth, fame or reputation) that you takes a great courage; or an insult that you are sticking yourself in a group that you do not deserve to belong.

Acknowledgement:

Thank you so much to Glory Bee, littlemsstrawberry, Sic Vita Est, Rogue's Queen & lifesaver and the many others who have read but forgot to leave any reviews!

This is a very long chapter as promised to compensate for the short Chapter 6! This chapter is divided into 2 parts and the good bit is in Part 2. Enjoy! :)

Writ of Shadows and Phantoms

Chapter 7: of Gulls and Grains

Minas Tirith

20th March 3019 T.A.

The taciturn atmosphere in the Houses of Healings eased away sooner than expected. The patients were talking lively and laughing at each other's jokes. Lothíriel spoke to a few of the Rohirrim soldiers who received grave injuries, learnt that Éomer came around to talk to them the tonight before he left for Black Gate. It was a reassuring act to return their confidence and faith. Some of them told her that they had plans once they were back in Rohan. She could see pride glittered in their eyes as they spoke.

The loud noise coming from one of the bedchamber caught the attention of most patients in the general hall of Houses of Healing. She recognised that chamber. It was where Lady of Rohan had been resting. A healer-maid exited from her room, seemingly frustrated. Immediately remembering her father's words, Lothíriel laid aside her paper and quill, and enquired a passing maid. It seemed Éowyn no longer wanted to rest in her bed and had asked for the maids to get her clothing so that she could leave her chamber. And she only had a little of her breakfast.

"Lothíriel, there is nobody else I could trust this to. Your cousin is still recovering. I trust in your hands that you will see to Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, will eat and rest as advised by Master Warden. She has a strong will. It will not be easy. But this is a task you must do for me." The voice of her father rang again in Lothíriel mind.

After sending a maid to get the Warden, she knocked on the door of Éowyn's chamber, she asked, "Lady Éowyn, is everything well?"

"I do not wish to eat anymore. Take the food away". The reply was cold and filled with frustration.

"It is wise that you eat more and rest." She just pointed out the obvious.

There was no reply but out of sudden, the door swung open. Her remarks were not too well received. Standing in front of her was Éowyn, cold and proud, like a flower made of steel and ice. Her eyes scanned over Lothíriel from head to toe, her face was fair and stern. She turned around and said with bittersweet in her voice, "No! Bring me some clothes. I should not be lying in bed at this hour!"

"Please, my lady. You must eat enough to have the strength to recover." Lothíriel stepped into her room, urging her to have more food.

"I did not give you the permission to enter my chamber." Her voice was cold as if wrought out of ice. She looked over her with disapproval. Grave and thoughtful was her glance.

"You have been trusted into the care of the Warden and I am no healer but I too, have been given the task to see that you eat and rest. I cannot allow you to leave your bed until the Warden says so." Lothíriel insisted persistently. "At least let get you change and you can then see the Warden about this."

"I should not lie in sloth! I am of the House of Éorl, not a woman of gainsaid in the bed but a maiden hardy enough to stand battle! I fear no death! Release me!" She could barely suppress the anger in her tone. Her voice was hoarse with remembered grieve.

Lothíriel did not expect less from Éowyn. She had figured out Éowyn would not be less stubborn than her brother. So, she met her remarks bravely. "Your prideful desperation has driven you down to self-pity. The unfullfilment you deem in your life and being imperfectly aware of it, you chose a brave path that many men would not. But my lady, courage is not just wielded through swords. Strong will indeed runs deep in your veins, but sometimes being alive or a memory is just a fine line. We are all beings of fragility and transience. This is a bitter fact even when you keep denying it."

The words came out unbidden and they sounded harsher than she thought. Éowyn weighed her long and carefully with her eyes. Her chilled face betrayed no emotion. But anger flashed in her eyes. Lothíriel saw the tightness around Éowyn's mouth but she said no more.

The maids entered to bring Éowyn some clothes. Lothiríel helped to dress Éowyn. There was nervous tension between them. She unwrapped the bandage around the Shield-maiden's left arm, only to grimace at the injury the Lady of Rohan received, as if streams of poison were weaved into her fair skin. She cleaned her arm with the herbal water and set it in a sling of linen. "The Warden should be here very soon. You should speak to him." Lothíriel's voice softened. There was no need to salt the wound of this chilled iron heart.

It was after lunch that she learnt that her cousin, Faramir was introduced to the Lady of Rohan and that she could now walk in the garden so that she could look to the east. And they were in each other company again for the next few weeks. Lothíriel must admit that Éowyn was like a flower in beauty and purity. Her core froze by virtue of excessive suffering and constant frustration of the wishes of her heart, but her brightness and beauty were yet to fade.

And looking from the window of Houses, Lothíriel was glad that Éowyn's coldness started to subside and her wounded beauty now restored and surpassed all the flowers and women in Gondor. Faramir was her destined healer. The shieldmaiden, refused to welcome love with a chilled iron heart, now her frost begun to thaw. Faramir's constant attention and his generous and patient care taught her to warm. She was starting to accept her cousin's affection. The passing of her winter would be soon and spring would yield.

But it was not all tidings of good within this few weeks. After five days, on a breezy morning, the supplies from Dol Amroth finally arrived in Minas Tirith but only half of the amount Lothíriel demanded. She was hoping not to push the farmers of Minas Tirith for they had just suffered much loss at this very hour. But it seemed she would have to now. The quartermaster handed her a few letters mainly for her father. But one stood out. It carried the Seal of Trade, an emblem of two gulls crossing at their beaks. Her eyes narrowed. She asked for the ledgers of supply and eventually found out someone else placed a higher bid on the supply she ordered. She gritted her teeth as she clutched the papers in her hands.

Further discussion with Lords Húrin and Elfhelm did not succeed in lighting up her mood either. The war did great damage and it was understandable that not all men were generous. She learnt that there were supplies kept in possession of some nobles who were very reluctant to give up unless attractive offers were made. She went through her belongings in her small chamber. There were gifts which were given to her and she never found the use for; such included many exquisite dresses and jewelleries. There were always gifts that one could never decline. There were gifts that once taken must be repaid in other forms of gratitude. Many offered just to take more from her family.

Perhaps all were not in vain. The eagles brought news of victory. The enemy's weapon had been destroyed. A letter came from her father. They were celebrating their victory at the Field of Cormallen and would be returning to Minas Tirith by the end of the month and coronation of the king would happen on 1st May. The dark days were over. Or, not yet.

She laid all the clothes on her bed and scattered the jewelleries on her desk. Ten dresses were new and untouched. They would fetch good bidders and then she would be able to feed every mouth for the next few weeks. Then beneath her drawer, it laid the sea blue Elven dress of her mum. She reached for it and clung it close to her heart. Her face arched and her heart pained as she remembered her passing. Emotions rushed back like old stories. She could feel the sour taste in her mouth and the strain around her eyes. She was so absorbed in her thought that she seemed unaware of another person's approach.

"Lady Lothíriel?" There was a faint knock on the door. It was Moriel. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and inhaled deeply to regain her composure, putting the elven dress back into the drawer,"Yes, enter." Her voice was still a little shaky.

The door slid slowly. "My lady, it is lunch time." Her eyes were then drawn to the outfits of different colours lying on the bed. "What is with these dresses?" The young maid asked, caressing the silk fabric. She had always been fascinated by the glossy dresses. As a servant, she never had a good dress and it was her dream that one day her wardrobe would be filled with various dresses of silk and velvet.

"They are going to the Auction House today." Lothíriel began folding the dresses back into their parcels. Many mouths needed feeding. So were the three thousands men marching their way back from the Black Gate.

"But, my lady, these are the finest dresses in Dol Amroth, made by the most gifted tailors. It would be a great shame-"

Lothíriel interrupted her before she could finish. She knew Moriel was fond of the dresses. "Moriel, desperate needs drive desperate measures." Her voice was stern. With the help of her young maid, they headed to the Auction House and were surprised to see a good number showed up. The news from Cormallen had certainly turned things to bright. People of Gondor would have a king now and that was worth celebrating.

She was delighted with her effort. She hastened to her room. She still limped a bit. Her foot was yet to fully recover but she believed she would be back to her old self by the time her father and brothers returned. Coins of gold, silver and copper chinked as they hit the table. Lothíriel started calculating the fortune she made today.

"I cannot believe they sold so well! But it is a shame that you had to give the dresses away." Moriel exclaimed. She danced happily around the bed but soon her voice then faded into disappointment. She still very much desired some of the dresses.

"Moriel, there are times that grains are more important than dresses. Now, go and fetch the Lord Húrin for me!" Lothíriel busied herself with the coins, trying to calculate the amount she needed to buy the provisions. Moriel sulked and left for The Citadel. With the help of Lord Húrin, a difficult task soon became much easier. The owners of surplus supply were summoned and tempted by the generous offers, the deal went incredibly smooth. She also sent for more supplies from Dol Amroth and of course this time with a higher cost. She had no doubt that someone had set his will against hers to limit the amount of supply she could get. After all the spending, it surprised Lothíriel to learn that many coins of gold and silver were still left. How it came to that a dress or a piece of jewellery was worth more than a bag of flour was beyond her.

30th April 3019 T.A.

Then came the news that the Men of the West were only a league from Minas Tirith. Joyful were the people in Minas Tirith when the scout brought the news. Lothíriel dashed her way to the Houses to deliver the news to her cousin, only to stop to see the happy dénouement of Éowyn's plight with her cousin. Faramir had continuously showed his affection for the Lady of Rohan.

"Lord Faramir. Lady Éowyn. I come to deliver the good news. Men of the West are coming home. They are only one league away." she bowed and greeted them.

Faramir smiled gently at her, "This is indeed good news, my cousin. The Middle-earth is free from the shadow and we will have peace from now."

"Lady Lothíriel," Éowyn spoked as she took the younger woman's hands, "I have only learnt lately that you are a cousin of Faramir. I am sorry for my reaction that day."

Lothíriel had put the rather unusual encounter with Éowyn behind her mind since she had been occupied with the shortage of food for the past few weeks. She quickly bowed again to Éowyn, "No, my lady. Please forgive me for my crude comments that day. Those were rude words." She was now deeply embarrassed to be reminded of her harsh words. There was no need for them. She should have tried to understand the Shieldmaiden of Rohan and where she was coming from.

"There is nothing to forgive. Call it a draw." Éowyn smiled. She was not a woman of grudge. Some words of Lothíriel did hit her when she came to think about them at night.

Lothíriel was astounded with the soft side of The Lady of Rohan. Éowyn's change of heart was like the passing of winter and her acceptance of her cousin's love resembled the coming of spring in her life. They soon enjoyed each other company with the discussion about managing household and of course the mention of Éomer eventually came up.

"You have seen Éomer, haven't you?" The grasp on Lothíriel arms tightened with excitement. "I did not see him before he left. How was he?" Éowyn could not hide the concern she had for her only family.

"He came to see you a few times a day while you were still resting in bed, my lady." Despite Lothíriel's strong disliking for the King of Rohan, it was unjust to speak ill of him. Her personal opinion of him should not affect the worry and love he showed for his sister. "He seemed to be in good health after all."

"My father and brothers speak highly of him." She said again but was then uncertain if that was necessary.

"So you both are in good terms?" Faramir raised his eyebrow. Lord Elfhelm mentioned a few times unconsciously that the King of Rohan had some difficult dealing with certain lady from Dol Amroth.

"Good terms? Why on the Middle-earth I should be in good terms with him? An intolerable man he is!" Lothíriel blurted out, standing up and stumping around angrily. Once she was gladful that he helped her with Hannor and her foot but when she came to think of it - good terms with someone who tried to kill her twice was too much to ask. Releasing her disrespectful behaviour before the sister of the man she despised just moment ago, she became even more embarrassed, quickly she corrected herself, "I am sorry, Lady Éowyn. It is not my intent to speak ill of your brother. We did have some fair exchange of opinions. Your brother and I failed to come to the same conclusion most times."

"So I've heard." Faramir said in a soft tone. "Perhaps one day you both would come to the same agreement."

She bit her lower lip, annoyed that she went spatting out words before making the rationale out of them in her brain. She drew a deep breath and said in a calm manner, "But my personal opinion of him should not matter in any case. He is still a man of great deeds."

"My lady," Éowyn laughed. She was first confused by the young woman's reaction and then stunned by her blunt but honest opinion of her brother. She knew her brother well. Not many dared to speak of him in this fashion. Éomer was not the friendliest person on Middle-earth. "You speak only true words. Éomer has his moments. I shall not think ill of you, Lady of Dol Amroth." She laughed again heartily. The young woman was very much to her liking – honest and true to her heart.

In the late afternoon, Lord Húrin had sent for Faramir and Éowyn to be ready and join him the next day at the Gateway to welcome the return of the Captains of the West and the coronation of King Elessar. The host had camped on the Field of Pelennor. The evening was rejoiced with the safe return of the company of the West. Many women and children rushed to the camps to meet their husbands and fathers and they embraced each other tightly. Tears of happiness were on the faces of many adults and children.

Lothíriel saw the crowd cheering and heard cries from her window. A faint smile lit up her face. She had to choose to stay in her room to await the news of her family. It was not long when a servant came knocking on her door, informing that her family had settled at their camp and her father had sent for her.

She quickened her steps when she got closer to her father's tent. Emotion came rushing like waves the moment she entered and saw her father and brothers. Tears sprang up in her eyes as she embraced her father rightly, "Father!"

"Lothíriel," Imrahil stroke gently on his daughter's head. "We're safe, my love. Peace is all we have now."

"Father!" She released her hands and was still crying of joy. Tears kept rolling down her cheeks. She went on to hug her brothers.

"Lothíriel, cry no more." Elphir kissed her on her forehead and wiped away her tears. "This is the hour of celebration. No more tears, Sister."

"Elphir, I prayed every day for the safe return of our family. My prayers are answered. These are tears of joy, Brother." She smiled. He hugged her again and whispered, "Were you fine when we were gone?"

She smiled again at him, "Yes, Brother. There had not been much troubles." Suddenly remembering the letters addressed to her father, she broke from her brother's embrace and retrieved a few letters from her pocket. "Father, these are for you." She handed them into his hands.

"Gulls? Seal of Trade?" Erchirion frowned upon recognising the seal on one of the letters. Elphir shared the same look of concern.

"Hmmm," Imrahil broke the seal and quickly scanned through the content. His brows drew close. "Amrothos, take Lothíriel back to her room. I will see you both at dinner table."

"Is there a problem, Father?" Amrothos asked, quickly forgotten what his father had just told him.

"What is it, Father?" Asked his daughter this time.

"No problem, just take Lothíriel back to her room. I will speak to you both later." He gestured them to leave the room. Elphir and Erchirion went close to examine the letter. Lothíriel was hurried back to her room by her third brother, reluctantly. She watched the door closed behind them and somehow felt her father was hiding something from her.

The dinner table went on with discussion of household matters but no mention of the content of the letter. Lothíriel believed it was no matter of her concern. At least it stayed that way until two days later.

TBC

The Ever Lengthy Author's Notes

Story-wise

Pumice stone: A volcanic rock used to remove dry and excess skin such as callus

Title of princess: This title can be apparently stripped. It happens to Queen Elizabeth I, Mary I and the late Princess Diana (1995).

House of Adrahil: Adrahil I found Dol Amroth. Son of Adrahil, Imrazôr, married the Elven –maid Mithrellas. Their son Galador was the first lord of Dol Amroth. Adrahil I was already known as the Prince and lived in Belfalas. Thefore, it makes sense that their House should be named after Adrahil I. They still speak Sindarin in Dol Amroth.

Swan Knights: They arrived on 9th March in Minas Tirith, led by Princess Imrahil who also rescued Faramir and removed the poisoned arrow tip from his chest.

Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos: They are the three sons of Imrahil, Lothiriel is his only daughter and youngest child. Unless I have missed it, there is little information of their whereabouts and roles in the War of The Ring. I would welcome any opinion on this.

Treatment of bruises: Bruises are best treated when fresh before the blood has time to settle. The harder you press, the more it hurts of course, but the sooner you will get better. If doubtful, please ask anyone that practices martial art.

Walking stick: As the name says. Design and appearance, please refer to HBO's Game of Thrones when Lord Stark carries one.

Horses and apples: These magnificent animals have strong preference for anything that is sweet. I have offered them some carrots, apples and pears. They never disagree!

Proverbs and sayings: Shamelessly borrowed from lotrplaza. All credits from use go to the respective authors.

Ancient painkillers and anaesthetics: Based on a medical journal.

Hurtsickles: Also known as Bachelor's Button with a very bright colour sapphire blue. They do indeed symbolise blessing. Not something I made up.

Saddle, stirrup, bridle, halters, reins, martingales and breastplate: All the accessories you need to put on a horse before riding (to war).

Imrahil's wife: Her description has been completely left out by Tolkien. I can only assume she is dead.

Hindfoot: Midsection of foot where the arch is.

Map of Minas Tirith: This is described according to The Atlas of Tolkien's Middle-Earth by Karen Wynn Fonstad

Éomer addressing Théoden as "Father": Théoden calls Éomer his son before they ride to the Battle of Pelennor

About Armour and Shields

Armour: The protective gear that one wears in battle, usually covers head to toes. Helmet (head), shoulder plates/guards (shoulders), chest plates (torso), leggings (legs), gauntlets (arms), gloves (hands) and boots (feet). There are three categories of armour: light, medium and heavy. Armour is significant as it tells the heritage (blood) and history of a warrior. Éomer's helmet is carved in Rohirric that says Éomer, son of Éomund.

Light Armour

Light armour includes robes, tunics, dresses, usually wore by those who do not come into melee range in a combat. Typical examples are lore masters, wizards and minstrels. Gandalf and Saruman wear light armour but Gandalf soloed the Balrog in melee range so I have no comments. Legolas appears to be wearing light armour in Jackson's Trilogy. Light armour is usually made of linen, cotton, silk or wool. Tunics are also wore under medium or heavy armour and tell the status of someone. Théodred's tunic beneath his armour carries embroidery around his collar which means he is the blood of the ruler, the heir to the throne, or a prince/princess or king. This is later observed during Aragorn's coronation, at which Faramir is wearing a velvet tunic with embroidery to mark him as the Prince of Ithilien.

Medium Armour

Medium armour includes those made of hardened leathers with little metallic accessories. Gems and stones are sometimes used to enhance the physical appearance. Fibres of wood are one of the common reinforcement agents. Metallic frames are sometimes lined to provide a better shape and protection. Aragorn wears medium armour in Jackson's Trilogy. The White-tree gauntlet that he wears after Boromir's death is also medium armour.

Heavy Armour

Heavy armour includes those forged from ores, they can be either iron, gold, copper, bronze, silver, mithril or anything other ores in the Middle-earth. These are mainly designed for melee combat. The Gondorians wear embossed plated armour, designed to function as the body moves in combat, as seen in the charge of Gondorians to retake Osgiliath. Elrond, Gil-galad, Isildur, Elendil and all their front line soldiers of The Last Alliance wear heavy armour during the Siege of Barad-dur.

The heavy armour of Rohirrims is different. They wear a chainmail beneath their heavy armour which is usually attached to the body by buckles. Théoden and Éomer appear to wear a shirt, a deerskin tunic, then chainmail, and finally heavy armour on top. You can see this clearly when Gamling helps Théoden to put his armour on in Jackson's The Two Tower. This kind of armour does not slip or fly when you ride on horse and is usually lined with hardened leathers.

The only noticeable heavy armour gloves in the movie are those of the Witch-king of Angmar. (Very impressive design I must say!)

One usually wear gloves or mittens when he/she wields a weapon like a sword. It is unlikely to be bare hand as sweat will make the grip hard and slippery.

Shields

Shields are usually made from mixed materials of woods and any types of ingots. The shields that Elrond's elves and Faramir's men bear are consider heavy shields which are forged only from metallic ingots. The shield that Éowyn used to block the attack of the Witch-king is smaller and made of wood reinforced with a metal disc at the centre, it is usually called shield or light shield.

Note: I will cover cloaks, weapons, jewelleries when I have a bit more time.