Meaning of the Sindarin names: Saewon = Venomous; Glavror = Apt to babble
Appreciation directed to : Estel la Rodeuse, Sic Vita Est & littlemsstrawberry!
Writ of Shadows and Phantoms
Chapter 9: of Said and Unsaid
The discomfort and uneasiness between them seemed to cease very gradually. Not many words were exchanged since his last whisper. His gaze landed on the pair of father and son as they moved with the music. She pulled her head upward to survey him. He did not seem to have notice.
Visually he was the only man with the most striking appearance and personality she had ever met. Countless compliments she had heard about her fair brothers. But he was so different. His large eyes shone with many different shades of blue in the well-lit hall. They were always stern and keen, remind her of those of a predator. She did not know a man's eyes could be so beautiful. His shoulder-length hair, now brushed and conditioned to a better state than she recalled in the past occasions, glittered with golden sheen. A colour she very much envied.
With soot and dirt gone from his face, his tanned complexion told the some stories of this man who most likely spent most of his days under the sun. She had observed his face before when he tended her foot without her permission. But the sun ray now brought out the many distinct features of his face which failed to show under dim candle-light. There were many tiny brown freckles on his tanned face, scattering across his forehead and cheeks. His well-cut face was complimented with his lips. She also recollected from their first meeting that he had an impressive collection of scars. He was a powerful man, not just physically, his strength radiating intensively from him even when he did not speak. For a moment, within her sense of disliking of him, a tiny glow of admiration for this proud man surfaced.
"Lord Éomer, how would you rate pride? A fault or virtue?" She asked subconsciously, not aware of the obvious mark of admiration in her voice.
"That would depend who is asking the question, my lady."
"I am purely seeking your opinion regarding this definition, my lord."
"A fault can easily swap into a pride if the right moment comes." He responded with a neutral tone, Then he added, "Are you trying to find a fault in me?"
"Every man has faults." She answered as a matter of state.
"A fault only stays a fault if it cannot be corrected."
"Say your temper?" She suggested with a tone of amusement.
"Or your untamed manner would suit the context better."
She baited him but he did not fall for it, instead the sharp edge was turned against her.
"I see now, we are back to the battle of wits that we shared at our very first meeting." Her previous high regard of him all varnished.
"I did not start it if you could recall, my lady. I recollect that you did mention that you find dancing more enjoyable if we remain unsociable and taciturn."
"Yes of course. I have not forgotten my own words. Unfortunately I have changed my mind. I prefer to be sociable now."
"I am surprised by your talent of conversing easily with people whom you are not familiar with." He would not agree that they were familiar or even acquitted with each other if he must admit.
"I usually save my tongue to meet those whom others have difficulty interacting with."
One would be a fool not to have understood what she meant. But he remained fairly calm. They continued their steps as the music flew. His next words were not friendly acknowledgement of her previous speech either.
"I am glad you have finally found some good use for your tongue."
She shot him a fierce look, trying hard to suppress her fury. He chuckled lightly at her loss of words. That almost victorious smile on his face was a slap in her face.
The first dancing session almost came to the end. There would be a brief break before the next session began. There were another two more before dinner. And it appeared more people were ready to show their talents on the floor, which including Lady Éowyn and her cousin.
An urge of disgust rushed through her throat when she came to realise the pair of father and son were still following them. It did not seem that the son was going to give up trying to dance with her. Her gut tautened and she made for the obvious opportunity.
"Lord Éomer, should we finish the roof as we have started thatching?"
His straight eyebrow arched. His expression came with a puzzled look. It took him a moment to comprehend what she meant.
"I thought you would have found your companion somewhat disagreeable."
"Disagreeable is not unbearable. Being with a disagreeable companion is far more enjoyable than being with a loathsome man." She clarified. Then she added on second thoughts, "If my company has been awfully intolerable, my lord, I would be very happy to take my leave. I am sure there are dozens of ladies tonight who are very eager to share a dance with you."
His face slowly settled into a frown. She knew she had hit it. Like her brothers, this man certainly did not enjoy the idea of some women parading themselves in front of him and having to displease himself by forcefully dancing with one of them.
The fingers of the musicians lifted from the strings, putting the stop to the first session. Adjusting the strings and their chairs, the harpers made ready for the second session. They made another swirl and slowed their pace and stopped by chance in front of his sister and her cousin.
Lothíriel bowed to the fair lady and her cousin. "Lady Éowyn. Lord Faramir." She beamed a smile.
On the contrast, Éomer simply nodded. He showed no obvious reaction.
"Lady Lothíriel, I see that my brother had the fortune to have your company." Éowyn could not hide the teasing in her voice. She continued to eye at her brother.
"Yes, your unfortunate brother twice had to put up with me for quite a while."
"What do you think of this, Brother?" Éowyn was enjoying herself with this. The pair just looked incredibly complimenting in her eyes.
"Lady Lothíriel did quite well." The answer was in the most disinterested tone as if it was written for a speech.
"Lothíriel, you did very well then." Faramir took that as a compliment for his cousin.
"No, I said 'did quite well', Steward." Here came the correction.
Lothíriel could not help but notice the disapproving tone in his voice.
"Ah, 'quite well' is not 'very well'!"
"Perhaps then, Lord Éomer could release you. I am sure there are many other men who would enjoy your company." Sensing the awkward unease between the pair, Faramir offered the opportunity to cease the unspeakable discomfort.
"I would have to keep Lord Éomer companied until dinner time, Cousin."
Faramir noticed Éomer's face etched slightly upon hearing his cousin's reply.
"It would be the greatest honour to keep the most prestige guest of Gondor in good company. Lord Éomer and I have agreed on this." She continued to explain in a matter-of-fact tone.
"So, are you both in good terms now?" Faramir spat out the baffling question that Éowyn and him had wondered for a good while.
"No!"
And little did they expect to hear the same answer coming from two different mouths simultaneously.
"Ah, Lady Lothíriel, in that case, maybe it would be wise that you would enjoy a dance with my son."
The voice made Lothíriel nearly jump. How could she have forgotten the rats? The noble man approached them with his son following closely behind him. Collecting her composure quickly, trying hard to keep her good manner, she bowed to the father and son.
"Lord Saewon. Lord Glavror." There was no smile on her face. All the lively expression moments ago were swept clean.
"My lords, my ladies." The father and son bowed.
"It…it would be a great honour to share at least a dance with you tonight, Lady Lothíriel." The timid son finally spoke up.
Lothíriel made no intention of giving her answer. She just stared at them.
"What say you, my lady?" The father urged.
Five pairs of eyes were now on her, waiting for her response. Very quickly she lit the most polite smile she could put on her face and in the most courteous tone, she said, "It is not my intent to leave the King of Rohan to any other company today."
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted it. They sounded so misleading, not as she initially formulated them to be. At the corner of her eye, she could see Éomer turning his head slowly to her. She refused to look directly at him or her cousin or his sister. She did not want to see the expression on their faces especially Éomer's, but she felt his strong gaze on her.
"It must be indeed a pleasure to offer your company to the King of Rohan all day, my lady. What an honour it must be!" Saewon took the chance of repaying the humiliation that his son had suffered. He continued to deride her. "I am sure he would find your company very pleasurable."
Her knuckles whitened. If she could have slapped this man right now, she would have. Gritting her teeth to suppress her anger, she forced every word out of her mouth, "What do you know of honour, my lords? It does not even run in your blood."
There was no need to be diplomatic with this family. Then hope came, the music rang at the precise time. She slipped her hand under Éomer and said without looking at him, "Shall we, Lord Éomer?"
He could feel her hand trembling faintly in his arm but he said nothing. They made their way to the floor again. Faramir and Éowyn followed right after. Lothíriel could see her cousin and his sister exchanging words. It won't surprise her that Éowyn was inquiring her cousin about her behaviour. She was completely lost in her thoughts when he woke her up.
"Lady Lothíriel?"
"I am sorry. I must have been drifting in my own little world." She apologised. Her gaze became unsettling. She did not know where to place her eyes. She had been avoiding looking at him since they started dancing. She was sure that he noticed.
Her reluctance to meet him was hard to give a miss. He simply pulled her closer and asked, "What have they done to deserve such harsh words?"
"Mind you, it is none of your business." Her tone sounded rather rude. She felt no need to offer such explanation.
"Perhaps you should really work on your manner, my lady!"
"And that advice should not have come from you then!" She growled. Her suppressed anger that bottled up for the whole day, just surfaced. She had lost her temper when she should not have. Despite her disliking of him, this man just saved her today and had agreed to play her game and now she snapped at him. How impolite of her. Not one would expect this from a child of Imrahil. "I am truly sorry. I did not mean that." She offered her apology.
He sighed. He failed to comprehend how the brain of this woman worked, or she had any.
They kept dancing for quite a long while. The air between them became very awkward. Either of them made the effort to begin any conversation.
"I truly meant it when I said I was sorry. It was rude of me."
Her expression and tone softened. Her gaze from being unsettling, landed on his.
"Apology accepted." A dry reply.
Then there was another awkward pause.
"My father should not learn about this." She stated her intention clearly of hiding this matter from her father.
"How would you suggest that I answer him if he should ask?"
He was sure that their presence together had almost raise enough suspicious speculation that would last a few days, not that he cared but he was not very keen to have to lie to others.
"What would you have said, my lord?"
"Rohirrims only speak words of truth."
"I rephrase that. There is no need for my father to hear about this." She took a small step back and distant herself away from him. The resolute in her voice was clear.
"Are you telling me to lie to your father?" His voice filled with disbelief. He was not able and not trying to conceal the anger in voice.
"I am just saying, there is no need to mention of any of this. A good exchange of opinion might be enough to satisfy my father's curiosity." She corrected, "I am sure he would believe every word you tell."
"My lady, your father is far more intelligent than you think." He simply continued to warn her. "It won't surprise me in anyway if he has taken in everything that just happened."
Whilst they were on the floor, Imrahil continued to observe his daughter and surveyed her every move cautiously. Even the slightest detail did not escape his eyes.
"Father, have you told her?" His eldest son asked, not being able to hide the concern he had for his sister.
"No." He took a sip from his glass and turned to his son. "Today is the celebration of the coronation of the King. We should leave domestic matter until tomorrow."
"But-"
He gestured to stop his son from continuing.
"We will discuss it tomorrow, Elphir. I will say no more." The Prince returned his thoughtful gaze on his daughter.
On the other hand, his daughter found more joy in the third dancing session after finishing a glass of wine. She soon became overly lively. Éomer continued to frown and shook his head with an occasional sigh in between. This woman was beyond the understanding of any being.
"You are drunk, my lady. Perhaps it is for your best interest that we stop."
"I am not drunk, my lord. Little glass does me no harm." She rejected his suggestion.
"I recall correctly that you have had four pints and a glass of wine, if that counts as little?"
"Incorrect, I had four pints and two glasses of wine. Does not it astound you that I am still firmly on my feet following your lead?"
"Anything now astounds me less after I eventually found that you were Imrahil's daughter and that you failed to mention it when we first met, Lady Lothíriel."
"Why must you bring this up again?" It seemed to her that he had every intention to stick to the same topic from the very beginning.
"Then why did you not say so?" He insisted in a cold tone.
She narrowed her sea-grey eyes, her mouth clamped into a flat line but could not hide the twitching at the corner of her lips. Her fingers in his hand dug into his and she pressed her hand on his shoulder harder, then she took a quick whirl and extended their steps. Then he finally understood. She took the lead of the dance and swirled her way out of the crowd, out of her father's sight. There they stood, outside the Hall, around a dark corner where not many could see them. Well, there were not many here anymore. Most people had made their way to inside the Hall to stay warm as well as to get ready for the feast.
"If you must insist, Lord Éomer, you too forgot the polite introduction about yourself at our first meeting!"
She withdrew her hand which he still clasped.
"I guess it is not that difficult for you to figure out there are not many Éomers from Rohan."
"Not to mention that you actually entered my tent without my permission that night. The banner of the King stood outside. You would have to completely blind to have missed that, my lady." He continued to assault her deliberate intent to hide her identity.
"There were opportunities after opportunities that you could've told me who you were but you made no effort. It was not until today that I learnt Imrahil had a daughter and it happened to be you!" The nameless anger that rose when Imrahil introduced her, finally peaked. He could hardly keep his tone low.
"I don't understand how it came to enrage you so much, my lord. It did not cross my mind to hide my identity from you. I simply saw that it was not important. It was not worth mentioning. There were other matters at hand that required more weight than this." She protested and stood her ground.
"Really? Perhaps failure to mention to your father, that you and I had actually met, was within your calculative measure, too? Or, was it because it was a too embarrassing matter to discuss? Meeting a half naked man in his tent." The last sentence came out in a long hiss.
"What are you implying, Lord Éomer?" She stepped forward and looked him straight into his eyes. "You were crying out of pain and needed help!" She said defensively.
"I asked you to leave if you still remember. And I did not ask for any help. You chose to stay." His words came out with great force, every word stressed and clear. He took a step forward and laid a weighing look on her.
"So now it was my fault?" She eyed him accusingly.
"Had it ever been mine?" He questioned back.
Decided that she could no longer continue this conversation with this man, she turned around and was ready to step away.
"I am not finished, my lady."
She turned back swiftly, gritting her teeth and pointing her finger at him. "Of course, my lord! It was you who started this. You are the King. But I have said it and I will say again, I am not your soldier and you do not command me. And, I really cannot see the significance of this argument."
Before she could take her first step to leave this unpleasant conversation, her hands were clasped tightly. He pushed her against the wall, held her hands above her head. She tried to kick and shake to free herself, but the lock on her hands were of iron grip and her feet came to meet the heavy armour boots of his. He moved in even closer, drawing the distance between them to basically nose tip to nose tip. His heavy armour was pressing into her. She hissed angrily.
"I will tell you the significance of this argument!" His voice was hoarse. His nostrils flared and his teeth were bared. She could see strong fury flickered in his eyes. "I nearly killed you twice. Does that ring a bell?"
"Or, when you insisted going into the forest and hurt your damn foot. How did it not come to your sense that you were my liability?" He added. His breath became heavy and mingled with the cold air, blowing on her face. His glare was piercing as he spoke. "That should anything happen to you, I would have to report to your father? And probably tell him I nearly killed or have killed his daughter! Do you not understand?"He nearly roared at her at the end. If he could have broke her skull and check what sat inside, he would have.
"Éomer King!" A shout stopped him from continuing. It was Gamling. He shouted loud enough to make his king hear him and to stop him doing any further unthinkable. In Rohirric, he spoke to his king and quickly drag him away, trying not to draw any further attention to the rather compromising situation.
Her hands finally went free. She could still feel his anger from the strain around her wrists. Her eyes widened. It came as a total shock to her. His words were still hammering down her sense. Her mind went vacant for a while. And she finally came to understand why he was so furious. She searched for him again. He was gone.