Review acknowledgement:
Glory Bee: I like to think that nobody is perfect, so it is easier to introduce flaws than to justify it ;) such as Our King of the Mark getting pissed!
Volenska: I have been told a few times that I dwell too much on unnecessary details. I have to learn to balance it :)
b5delenn: Thanks for reminding me that I mixed up Chapter 3 and 4. Yeah that scene with Saewon was not easy to articulate.
To all the anon: Thank you :D
PS: I am yet to find a beta-reader...
Writ of Shadows and Phantoms
Chapter 12: of Pledge and Decision
Imrahil's camp
20th July 3019 T.A.
While waiting patiently for his daughter to arrive, Imrahil recalled the morning when Lothíriel stormed into his tent. It was just more than 2 months ago, on 2nd May, the day after the coronation of King Elessar. He never forgot her face and her eyes so filled with the burning ire that he saw ten years ago when she was accused of prevarication.
"Father! What did he say to you? What is this offer that you cannot refuse?" She questioned loudly.
Trying to calm her violent mood, he surrendered to her request. "He has most of the traders behind him. He has claimed most control over the trading on most of the land and shores. The farmers and fishermen will suffer if we refuse his offer."
"That snake threatens you with the lives of others?"
"Lothíriel, we need to talk about this."
"What is there to talk about him or his sons? Father, can you not see he is using me to inflict vengeance on you and to revenge his morbid son! " Her voice trembled with anger.
"My love, I will only ask once – will you or not consider his offer?"
"No, never! I would rather die in orc's hands than marrying him. I will not marry his son. I will not bend to his threat. Saewon still holds grudge against you because Mother chose you not him, and now he is trying to use me to revenge his grudge. I am sorry, Father, but I will not allow this. I will not trade my life for this. Marriage is neither a barter nor a gamble." Her answer was determined. The trace of her strong will was solid and evident.
Imrahil pulled his youngest child into his arms, embraced her and stroked her hair. This child of his whose age of innocence was cut short and who had to endure the shame of her right-doing, he failed her too much. Brushing away the streaming tears, he said in a soft voice, "Lothíriel, my child. If that is your answer, we will make it so."
"How are you going to keep him from doing harm, Father?"
"I will have my way. His supremacy will not last."
Within minutes, Lothíriel arrived at her father's camp.
"Father," she immediately gave her father tight hug. Her affection for her family was as legendary as her character and was well known among the Swan Knights. "What do you need of me?" She asked.
"My child." He kissed his youngest on her forehead and led her to sit down. Still holding her hands, Imrahil tried to formulate the best mean to convey his thoughts through. "Do you still wish to pursue your mother's dream?"
Her father voice was gentle and filled with love. It reminded her of the last conversation between her parents before her mother passed away.
"Yes, Father. It is still my very dream to help the Free People of Middle-earth." She squeezed his calloused hands slightly.
"Lothíriel, your brothers and I have agreed and decided that the heart of the matter is that you cannot stay in Dol Amroth, or even anywhere in Gondor."
Her eyes bewildered with extreme worry that what her father might have found out her. Her first thought upon hearing that her father wished to see her was to question her intent of sheltering a man in her chamber. "Are you sending me away? What have I done?"
Taken aback by her reaction, Imrahil placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder."My love. My Princess. There are things beyond my control. I cannot promise you how the tides will turn when we return to Dol Amroth. Though I have not and will not agree to his offer, his influence grows more powerful each day. The only way to assure that things do not set their will against you is to send you somewhere where his evil claws cannot reach."
She blinked once, seemingly to understand what her father meant. So, it was not her dealings with Éomer that he was talking about, she cursed herself for being stupid and short-sighted. Her father was trying his best to keep her away from Saewon. To send your children away to keep them safe - it was the most difficult decision a parent had to make. Even her father, whom she always remembered as invincible, could not stop the evil turbulence stirring in Dol Amroth. She felt moisture blearing her sight and her throat tightened. Never in her thought that parting with her family would cross her mind and came to reality.
His rough and wrinkled thumb brushed away the tears streaming down her cheeks. He continued bitterly. "I am sorry it has to come to this, Lothíriel. I've failed you…and your mother."
"Father, you have not. You have done all you could." She ran her fingers across his father's greyish brow. His face appeared more wrinkled that usual. All the mighty composure he displayed on the battlefield varnished from him like they never existed before. His heart seemed to have aged over night.
"My only wish is to see you safe and happy."
"I know, Father. I've always known." The salty taste filled her mouth. She wrapped her arms around the mightiest man she ever known in her life and rested her head on his warm chest. "I love you, Ada."
"Lothíriel, easy paths do not enter an adult's life. There will be times that I can no longer be your shelter or your home. So much that I wish you could ardour and embrace the light then you never have to fear darkness. But now is this time to look into your present and decide your future." Imrahil felt a deep remorse running down his core for having to come to this decision.
The conversation ended with the discussion of the company that Lothíriel should take with her. Despite her father persistent suggestion of taking some of the Royal Guards, she only asked for two people: Moriel and Hannor. Busied herself with the packing of her things, not that she had much to carry. It did not come to her thinking until later that she had no idea where she was going.
Later in the afternoon.
"Lord Imrahil, King Éomer is here." Informed one of his guards.
"Let him in."
Imrahil's expression could not hide his surprise and amusement when the young king entered his tent with most of his council. Gamling, Elfhelm and nevertheless the Marshal of his Royal Guards, Éothain, whom above every else, followed his king almost everywhere ever since his sons soaked their king with too much wine.
They acknowledged each other's presence with a polite nod.
"Prince Imrahil, what is the pressing matter that you wish to see me so urgently?" inquired the young king politely.
Imrahil laughed at the question. Over the months, he had learnt to admire this young man, not only for his fortitude bestowed in the face of battle but also the dignified integrity as a man. His fairness and straightforwardness of conduct never failed to entertain his sons.
"King Éomer, I just want to inform you personally that the supplies are here. My sons have seen to it themselves. Other than grains and flours, there are also planks of lumbers, bundles of clothes and all other provisions that we think you may find necessary. My men are loading them onto wagons as we speak. They should be ready for dispatch in two days when we leave for Edoras."
"I cannot thank you enough for your generosity on behalf of my people." Éomer gave the older man another bow. The sincerity was clear in his voice.
"Ah, my lord, please. My offerings can never be equal to the sacrifice Rohan has made to save Gondor." Imrahil reached out a hand to rise the young king. He sighed before continuing, "King Théoden was a truly valiant warrior. Gondor will never forget the aid of Rohan and all the blood that spilled on Pelennor Field."
Éomer could not help but stiffen a little. Imrahil could see the death of the previous King of Rohan still haunted the young man.
"Don't doubt yourself, Éomer." Imrahil placed his hand on Éomer's shoulder. He did not call him king this time, but simply addressed him as a friend. If one says one can speak volume with his eyes, then Imrahil was sure that he recognised the intensive uncertainty that flashed in Éomer's eyes.
"All lay loads on a willing horse. You will do well." Imrahil continued, increasing the pressure on the grip he laid on Éomer's shoulder. "Your people will follow you into death and fire. They will follow your every step."
The young king said nothing. Imrahil surveyed him again -rough, worn yet young with strong physicality and dynamism of a natural leader. Imrahil let out a soft sigh. "Lord Éomer….." He opened his mouth but only to clamp shut it again.
Sensing the hidden hesitance in Imrahil's tone, Éomer's eyes hardened slightly for a very brief moment. "Is there anything else that you wish to discuss?"
"I need a favour from you, Éomer. One that I cannot possibly repay with everything I have." The Prince of Dol Amroth said with great weight in his voice.
"Lord Imrahil, if only I find words to express how grateful I am for you saved my sister's life, I would have. Please do speak your mind."
Trying to articulate his thoughts, Imrahil drew a deep breath. "Lothíriel."
His daughter's name seemed to have a repulsive effect on the riders. The expression on Éomer's face was complicated to comprehend. His eyes widened upon hearing her name and his face scowled with a questioning gaze. Behind him, his council became unsettling and troubled. Gamling rubbed his forehead, murmuring in Rohirric. Éothain was more surprised than shocked and could not stop eyeing at his king. Elfhelm was the only one who seemed rather unaffected under his cool exterior.
"Suitors have come around, if you have not already heard about Lord Saewon's offer."
"I am, in a way, aware of it." Éomer chose not to deny his knowledge. It was not his nature to lie.
"I understand that many deem Lothíriel wild and untamed but she has not always been like this." The older prince sighed. "She stabbed Saewon's eldest son ten years ago when she caught him abusing one of the servants. But the verdict did not come out in Lothíriel's favour. The servant was murdered before the final trial could continue. Untruth turned white into black. The decision was made and she was stripped of her title and all the privilege taken from her. I could only circumvent so much to keep her alive at that time. Within a night, pride and innocence varnished from her. It cannot be helped that she shares some degree of distrust amongst the people she meets."
The Prince continued. "There are some forces that are beyond my control in Dol Amroth. As much as I want to keep her close to me, she cannot return to Dol Amroth with me and her brothers. Neither, she can stay in Gondor."
"I am certain King Elessar would be able to advise on this, Lord Imrahil." The King of Rohan suggested.
"It is a domestic affair of Dol Amroth. I cannot bring this matter upon King Elessar. Moreover, Saewon might use this to his advantage. He is a tradesman. Cunning is his nature. It should have been handled in a more appropriate manner but sadly if I had adhered to my jurisdiction, it would mean sending Lothíriel to her death. She will rather die than marrying his son. I understand that Lothíriel is not the most agreeable lady and you both are yet to come into good terms with each other. A drowning man will catch a straw, Éomer." The Prince of Dol Amroth sighed again. "It leaves me no options and I truly regret I have to put you through this, my friend. I trust you and this I ask from you - Could you take my daughter to Rohan?" Now Imrahil stood no more than as a father pleading for his child.
There was a momentary silence in Imrahil's tent. Imrahil observed Éomer. He could see the reservation on the young king's face. He started to question himself if he had made the correct judgement approaching the young man with this difficult request.
"Lord Imrahil, I would need to discuss in depth this matter with my council."
He responded in a slow and polite voice, restraining himself from giving an answer too soon. Under these circumstances, it was not a matter to be taken lightly. The dark-haired man made his intention clear that he would entrust the life of his child in Éomer's hands if he should agree.
"Of course. I will leave you to it." Imrahil took his leave.
And there was not much time left for consideration. The party was due to leave Minas Tirith in two days. Éomer settled himself in a chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. How had it come to this? The first thought that crossed his mind, when Imrahil sent for him, would be the questioning on the obscure exchange between him and his daughter but it never crossed his mind that Imrahil would seek his assistance to save his trapped daughter. His request presented some ambivalence for Éomer. It would be almost cruel to decline, not to mention that Imrahil was the one who saved Éowyn until she was healed by Aragorn, but also the help that he had offered to help to rebuild Rohan was more than just a stroke on a paper. He knew deep inside that if he agreed to Imrahil's request, the complication between him and Lothíriel would only tangle further. He needed no more problems at this moment. Keeping the balance proved arduous.
"Lord Éomer." It was Elfhelm. "What is your thought on this?"
"I don't know." He shook his head.
"It would seem reasonable to agree to help Prince Imrahil. However, he might not know it, the ambiguity that exists between you and his daughter would just further complicate the situation." Reminded Elfhelm after exchange a look with Gamling. They were quiet aware of the obscurity they both shared.
"I don't need reminding, Elfhelm."
"She is not an easy woman, Éomer. But declining Imrahil's request would be a merciless act of basically sentencing his daughter to death." Elfhelm would have encouraged his king to say no but it was a matter of life and death.
"She has never been easy. Having her in Edoras might bring more troubles that we already have." Gamling could not help to be pessimistic.
"But she is not stupid, my lord." Éothain pointed out with some hint of encouragement in his voice, recalling the board match between him and Lothíriel.
"That is in fact true, Éomer. she might be difficult but she is not unintelligent. Perhaps it is possible to convey some messages to her to confine the effects she carries."
The discussion only made Éomer frowned further. "I've tried that I am not certain if it worked, Elfhelm."
"Well, has she caused you any further troubles since we returned to Minas Tirith?"
"No."
"Does her presence make you uneasy?"
"No." Not annoying anymore at least.
Clearing his throat a bit, Elfhelm threw out the final question he had in mind, "Do you hate her?"
"No! What are you thinking, Elfhelm?" Éomer eyed his older Marshal with an arched eyebrow.
"That you won't try to kill her again."
"That is a good start, I suppose." Gamling inserted. Judging from the tide of the conversation, the decision would certainly reward the feeding frenzy among the riders.
"Maybe we could talk her into keeping her behaviour better."
"Or, just keep her busy with board games."
"We will have to keep the ales and wines from her though and make sure that she only has water or tea."
"Or, lock her in a study. Her brothers say she is interested in runes, parchments, lores, scrolls, journals-"
Most to Éomer's dismay, all the above suggestion came babbling from Éothain.
"I've heard enough, Éothain!" His superior cut him off. All eyes turned to Éomer. He rose on his feet and a little bitterness in his voice. "I will accede[1] to it."
Knowing his character and having almost anticipated what their king's answer would be and , his three subordinates could not hide the signs of surprises on their faces.
"Under one condition." Éomer added.
Lothíriel was just a few steps away from her father's tent when she saw him emerging from it with Éomer, Elfhelm, Gamling and Éothain.
"Father!" She ran and stopped abruptly after a few steps.
Towering above everyone else near him, Éomer gave her a very formal nod but his keen eyes only stayed briefly on her then they broke away to look at her father. He carried his usual frown between his eyebrows. She studied his face minutely then turned her eyes back on her father. She could not determine if she was more upset or surprised from what she understood from her father's expression.
"Rohan?" It came out almost a whisper.
Her father signalled for her to enter his tent but she refused. Éomer cast her a quick look again. Her eyes became unsettling. A flow of complicated emotions enveloped her. Betrayed? Angry? Confused? Or, shocked? She could not verbalise her feeling. She was going to Rohan with this blond man whom she knew to be cranky, angry, sardonic, bitter and often pissed-off and she was still unsure of the inexplicable ambience between them.
"Lady Lothíriel! Lady Lothíriel!"
Shouts from behind broke the momentary silence. Lothíriel turned her head slightly only to see Glavror approaching her. His loud voice attracted some uninvited audience.
"Lothíriel…." Imrahil extended his arm to motion his daughter to stay close to him.
"I will handle this, Father."
"I have just heard that you are going somewhere? Why are you doing this to me? What about our wedding? We are getting married in autumn." The tradesman's son asked.
"That has always been the delusion that you indulge yourself with. If I recall correctly, neither Lord Imrahil nor I have consented to your father's offer." She reminded him without making any eye contact.
"But why? We don't need your dowry! My family is rich! We have gold."
"The consent to marriage is not by measure of gold."
"We will still live happily."
His shameless persistence began to annoy her. It was obvious that Glavror was not a man intelligent enough to comprehend that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage. "Tell me, why should I consent?" She asked.
"Because….because I love you." Misinterpreting her question as hint of persuading her, Glavror's face was suddenly beamed with happiness.
"But I don't! I don't even come close to liking you! You don't know me, Galvror. You don't know what I am capable of. You only see the skin. Like gold, that all pretty and shines, is all that matters to you. You don't know and understand love."
"That is not true. I…I…" Not anticipating her reaction, he suddenly found himself lost of words.
"Hear me loud and clear now. I will not give my consent and I am leaving Gondor. Valar might bless you in finding a bride."
Noting the presence of Éomer next to Imrahil and quickly drawing a quick conclusion from the scene, Galvror began his verbal assault on Lothíriel. "I know it! You are going to Rohan, aren't you? With that King!" Pointing his finger at Éomer, he continued, "I have seen how you looked at him. He is nothing more than a brute! What has he offered you? Tell me, I can give you ten thousand times more and better!"
His attempt at emulating himself to the Horsemaster failed to faze Lothíriel. She remained calm to the surprise of many others including her father. Her expression was unreadable. She just looked at Glavror and warned him. "Stop, Glavror, if you still have some shame left."
"Éothain!" Éomer reproved his bodyguard when he noticed the knuckles of the younger rider whitened on his sword tilt. He could understand Éothain's anger listening to the affronts directed to his king. Neither of them foresaw that the situation would escalate to this level. The young king turned to Imrahil and said. "Lord Imrahil, perhaps it is better that we return to our camp." Decided that he had had enough and they should take their leave before it all turned too ugly.
"I am sorry, my lord. You should not have to listen all that." Embarrassed by the situation, Imrahil could only but apologise.
As Éomer and his company made their way back to their camp, the loud and effeminate voice of Glavror still rang across the field, continuing his accusation. Some curious house servants joined the crowd not to miss the entertaining scene.
"So, Lothíriel, how was it like? Did you both have some rough fun in bed? Of course, with a body muscled like a maid's fantasy, did he make you scream? Did you beg him for more? Which position do you fancy the most? The beast way? Are you going to serve his bunch of unlearnt thugs too? Are-"
The speech came to an abrupt halt and silence when Glavror felt a burning sensation on his face. Many on-lookers brought their hands to cover their mouths in shock. Éomer turned slightly to glimpse over his shoulder. He saw Glavror standing vacantly, mouth opened, with both his hands on his cheek.
Lothíriel had slapped him.
"These unlearnt brutes are no murderers! Get out of my sight, Glavror! You disgust me!"
"You-"
She interrupted him before he could continue."The wise say shallow thoughts intoxicate the brain. But, I discover today that your brain is but merely air! You have attempted insulting me with every untruth you could possibly fabricate. There is nothing more you can say now! Leave before I call the guards!"
Taken aback by her defensive retaliation, Glavror realised the situation was not at his advantage anymore. Fear and shame impelled him to turn back.
"You will regret this, Lothíriel!" With a hand still covering his red and swollen cheek, shamed into anger, he retreated from Imrahil's camp.
The crowd dissolved soon after Glavror left, seeing there was no more that interested them.
Imrahil gestured to one of his guards and whispered. His lips read, "Find out who is behind it." The decision was only made less than few hours ago and had been kept confidential to his best knowledge. Then there was Glavror charging at his child. He was not impressed at all, he needed to know whose those loose lips belonged to.
TBC
Chapter 13: Imrahil's role is not to be underestimated & Lothíriel's journey to Rohan begins!
Footnote:
[1]Accede: (verb)agree