Chapter 5: A Pleasant Moment Together
Éomer woke with a start. Glancing to the sky beyond the window, he realized it was earlier than usual. He felt his wife's body lying beside him, her back to him. Her shoulders rested against his chest and her legs lay touching his. He reveled in her warmth, dreading the cold he would have to face when he left the bed. Now that he knew she was pregnant, he made a silent promise to get to know her more deeply. Her father had mentioned her sharp wit and love of books, but Éomer was not yet privy to her mannerisms. He regretted not taking the time earlier to make her feel more at home, enough at least to allow her to feel comfortable.
He shifted to the side, making ready to leave their warm bed. Lothíriel roused, turning to face him. She was beautiful, her hair laying in ebony waves around her head, lids heavy with sleep. There was a faint blush to her cheeks and her lips looked utterly enticing to the King. He offered her a smile and pulled the covers to her neck.
"Go back to sleep, my lady," he whispered. She frowned, her black brows furrowing as she sat up, leaning against her elbows.
"Are you unwell, my lord?" she asked, her voice sliding through the morning air like velvet.
"No," he replied. She watched him as he pulled the warm boots on and shrugged the thick cape over his shoulders against the cold. Moving to the fireplace, he arranged last night's embers and lit the kindling. He felt her cool eyes on him as he walked to the washbasin.
"What are your plans for the day?" she inquired quietly. He was momentarily surprised with her curiosity. Splashing the water into his face, he rubbed his neck, feeling the stubble of his beard.
"I have a meeting with Elfhelm regarding the Dunlendings," he answered. He was sure there would be more to it, but he didn't wish to burden her with banal information.
"Could I trouble you for a favor?"
"Anything, my lady." He turned to look at her, the question piquing his interest.
"Would you take a ride with me? Not for too long," she added quickly. "I have missed your company and it would be pleasant, I think. But I understand if you are too busy. Certainly your priorities are well defined and I would not wish to -"
"It would be my pleasure," he said, smiling. She returned the smile, her expression softening. "I was going to check the weapon inventory this morning after breakfast, but I much prefer your suggestion."
"After breakfast, then."
Said meal was taken in the company of Éomer's Captains and Lothíriel's attendants. The young Queen informed Gamling about the art of boat handling. Éomer smiled to himself, for it seemed his wife was acclimating better to her surroundings. Her personality seemed to have blossomed, as he hoped it would have.
"Most assuredly, my lady, I have never set foot on a boat, let alone handled one." Gamling grinned broadly as the Queen laughed softly.
"It is not much different from handling a horse. Only, it is a bit bigger and you are not sitting astride."
"A good thing, that," Éomer put in with a smirk at his friend. Lothíriel glanced at him, her grey eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Indeed, my lord," Gamling muttered, making a face at the thought of himself straddling anything made of wood.
After breakfast, Lothíriel excused herself with her ladies. Éomer sympathized, since she'd probably gone to wretch her food up. No doubt pregnancy pains were nuisance and he admired women for what they had to put up with.
He made his way to the barn to groom Firefoot in preparation for the ride. He found himself looking forward to spending time with Lothíriel, He figured it would be the opportune time to do as Eowyn suggested and get to know his wife. Carefully brushing his horse's coat, Éomer allowed himself to ponder his troubles. The Dunelendings were causing more trouble than they were worth. It seemed they found a way to evade him every time. There was also the problem of orcs. Faramir had written him a letter detailing the bands of miscreant orcs that lurked in the mountains north of Ithilien. This proved a problem if they moved farther west and beyond the mountain range, for they'd then be on Rohirric territory. And that was the last thing the young King needed. The thought of orcs pillaging the already frail villages made Éomer scowl deeply, his hand tightening on the curry.
"Be ware, my lord," a voice said behind him. "You might brush his hide right off." Éomer turned to see Lothíriel leaning against the stall door. Firefoot immediately sought her out, looking for treats. She smiled and pulled a carrot from the deep pockets of her blue riding dress. The horse relieved it of her quickly, chewing contentedly.
"You've made a friend for life," Éomer said with a light smile.
"Then I am glad, for he seems a good friend to have." The woman scratched between the equine's ears, ruffling his forelock slightly. His large doe-eyes closed blissfully and he extended his head toward her in a droll fashion that made Lothíriel laugh.
"Difficult to believe he's a war horse and not a lady's riding pony, with the way he's acting," the King muttered. She laughed again and Éomer grinned, realizing how much he liked her laugh. "Shall I have a horse saddled for you, my lady?" A single black eyebrow rose at this question.
"If it is alright with you, my lord, I will put the equipment on my own horse."
"Of course," he replied. She turned away and he heard her walking down the aisle to where her horse, Dergh, waited. Within a few moments, husband and wife were leading their horses into the sunlight. Éomer recalled her riding into Edoras on the large bay gelding, which impressed him greatly. Surely she must be a skilled rider to handle such a big horse with that kind of flighty nature. They mounted and Dergh reared back on his hind legs slightly as the Queen sat astride in the saddle. She blushed slightly as those around her stopped to look.
"He's young still," she explained to Éomer. "He hasn't been trained properly and has a tendency to be a bit capricious."
"So it would seem," the King answered with a chuckle. Together, they trotted through the main street of Edoras and past the open gate into the open land of Rohan.
-o-
"Tell me, my lady, of Dol Amroth. What is it like?"
"It is beautiful," she answered. She smiled at his reaction, his lips curling into a bemused smile as they trotted through the sweeping golden grass. "Well, I think so. And I have a certain bias."
"Understandably so," he agreed, encouraging her to continue with another smile.
"It faces west, onto the Bay of Belfalas. In the evenings, it is lovely to watch the sun set over the water," she closed her eyes momentarily, drifting back to those summer days. "My brothers and I loved to ride our horses across the beach, through the surf and waves. As a child, I would take a satchel full of books from my father's library and tie them to my saddle, right here," she reached back and indicated to a leather tie on the tack. "I would take them to the beach and read for hours on end. One time, I lost such track of time that I was nearly underwater when high tide came in."
The King laughed, most likely imagining a young Lothíriel, her dress soaked as she struggled to keep the pages from getting wet. That was the way of it. And how angry was Lady Ivriel when the girl returned, dripping with seawater in her attempts to her beloved books! She received a firm scolding for that incident. But Lothíriel knew Ivriel didn't mind as much as she dramatized.
"I would very much like to see it," Éomer said quietly. Lothíriel glanced at him and nodded.
"It is a very agreeable place."
"What do you think of Rohan, my lady?"
"It is vast." She hesitated, trying to find the appropriate words. She did not want to upset or insult him. "The scenery is pleasant to look upon and the people are warm, to be sure. I wish I had spent more time learning Rohirric."
"You speak it very well, my lady."
"Thank you," she replied with a faint blush. "But I fear it takes poor Falas a few tries before I can understand him fully,"
"That old codger," the King scoffed with a snort. "His own people, myself included, have a terrible time attempting to comprehend his speech."
Lothíriel laughed, enjoying the feeling of a genuine amusement. She slowed the petulant horse to a walk as her husband followed suit. She looked at him, taking note of his relaxed demeanor. He seemed increasingly tense these past weeks, his shoulders slouching slightly and his expression constantly a frown. It always helped her brothers when they were stuck in a mood to go riding. There was something about the company of horses that lessened anxiety, at least for the time being.
Éomer's visage was calm, his eyes on the horizon. She liked seeing him riding without his stiff armor. He looked so very natural atop Firefoot, one hand holding the reins loosely, the other resting on his thigh. He was certainly impressive to look at, a true lord of horses. He glanced at her, and chuckled nervously.
"Is there something in my hair? A leaf or twig perhaps?"
"Pardon?" she blinked, confused as he laughed.
"You were staring at me. I figured there was something humiliating about my appearance."
"Not at all," she answered, feeling her cheeks burn. He smiled and guided his horse around a rabbit hole.
"My lady?" Lothíriel turned to him, his voice slightly more somber. She nodded, indicating him to continue with his question. "Was this your choice?"
"You do not recall me asking for your company on this ride?" she asked with a small smile. He smiled as well but shook his head.
"I mean the marriage. Was this your choice? Was there another man?"
"My father and King Elessar conceived of the idea, but it was ultimately my decision."
"Why, if you don't mind me asking."
"No, of course not. I suppose I felt a responsibility to my people. This union would create long lasting peace between our lands after many years of shadow. I believe what people need most right now is material confirmation of amity, especially between Rohan and Gondor. Our marriage is a starting point. My father proposed the concept he and King Elessar created, but wasn't going to force me into it."
"I am glad you choose this," Éomer murmured.
"Are you?"
"Yes, my lady. I can think of no fairer woman I could have married. And, from what your father says, you are also politically confident. I had hoped for a wife with whom I could leave the care of Edoras."
"Leave indefinitely?"
"No," he paused, visibly surprised. "But I wanted a Queen who could take command of my land if I were absent."
"And I am this woman?"
"I think so."
"I hope not to let you down then," Lothíriel replied quietly, allowing the reins to slide through her fingers so Dergh could stretch his neck.
"I don't think you will," he assured her. "But do not be afraid of saying what is on your mind. Prince Imrahil also mentioned your sharp tongue." The young woman felt her cheeks burn even more with that statement.
"Only when I have cause to use it, my lord."
"You've had no cause yet?"
"My father instructed me not to offend or otherwise irritate you or the members of your household with my occasionally facetious manner."
"It is welcomed," he said with a deep laugh.
"Then fear not, Éomer King," she replied with a smile. "You'll taste the sting of my 'sharp tongue' soon enough."
"I look forward to it, Lothíriel Queen."