Chapter 11
Minas Tirith, 8th April, 3019
She couldn't say how those awful long days passed. She couldn't say how she was able to face day after day without news. She had to keep her courage, her positive thinking. The sky was still blue so maybe they were fine... All of them.
Doubt and fear reigned over the City. There were no smiles, no laughter was heard. The Steward was dead, the great Men of the West gone to war. There was no one to lead, no one to follow. And no news...
Éowyn had tried to follow the army of Rohan and Gondor at first but Lothíriel convinced her that she could be of no help in her condition, that in fact she would only burden the men and her brother. They would worry for her and that would be distracting. It took some time but she saw truth in their words. Still, she was not a woman to sit and wait so she was glad to help around the houses as she could.
And it was in her daily routines, that one day she met the younger son of the late steward. Faramir was also healing from severe injuries and he too felt restless to be left behind. She understood him immediately and soon they shared more and more frequent moments together.
She even occasionally forgot her dutties... One day, a wounded soldier asked Lothíriel for his morning food for he had asked the Lady Éowyn some hours ago and she had apparently forgotten. Lothíriel brought the food to him and went to find Éowyn. And find her she did. However she was not alone and she did not had the courage to interrupt them. Her cousin was a good man and he too deserved some happiness after such sorrow.
Life tried to maintain it's steady course. Then, one day... On the 25th of March, a strong explosion was heard throughout the land, coming from the East. From Mordor... But what could it be? Surely a good sign, the fall of the evil one... Or perhaps the end of the age of Man...
Sweet Valar help us...
The next days were ones of high tension among the people. At the Houses of Healing they tried to stay calm but the wait was almost unbearable. Until, on an afternoon, a lone rider was spotted from a distance. He came to the higher level of the city and asked to speak to Faramir for he carried a letter of the utmost importance.
"What is it?" Lothíriel asked impantiently as Faramir opened the paper.
He read in silence.
"Faramir, read out loud! Please, you are making me nervous!!"
"It is all good, little cousin! Aragorn sends news of victory..."
Éowyn closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the heavens.
"For sure?!" Lothíriel asked.
"Yes, the army of Mordor was defeated. Barad-Dûr has fallen."
"And the Darkness is no more?" Éowyn said.
"Yes," he said looking deep into her eyes "The One Ring was destroyed."
"The Dark Lord cannot have a hold on us... Sauron's reign is over... Praise be the Valar!" Lothíriel almost screamed in joy. "And our families, does it say more?"
"I believe they are all right..."
"You believe?!" she said in horror. "I can't have just that!! I need certainty, cousin!!"
"Well, it doesn't say..."
"WHAT?!!!" Both women said in frustration.
"Oh, typical of men! They think only of the gran picture and leave the details for later!"
"However, they forget that these minor details are the most important!!!" Lothíriel sat on the bench, with little grace. "I need to know that my family is safe..."
"Cousin, I'm sure more news will come!"
And in truth, soon came other letters with news of victory and of the well being of her family. Sweet joy!! Her father wrote that they were stationed at the Field of Cormallen and that they were all alright. He also asked for her to meet them there. She considered to leave, yet she could not... She was needed here, tending the less fortunate ones... She couldn't just leave now. But she couldn't wait until they were all again safe in her arms.
"Thíri?" she heard Éowyn say. "Have you news from your family?"
"Yes." she nodded. "They are all well, thank the Valar. From what I gather from father's words, only Amrothros got a nasty cut on his arm but nothing serious. And I'm sure he will use it to his benefit. A war wound?!" she rolled her eyes, dramatically. "It will work like a charm!!"
"The old dashing hero?!" her friend teased. "I'm sure they will swarm around him!"
They laughed. Lothíriel noticed a letter in Éowyn hand.
"And you? Good news I hope...?"
"Éomer is fine, not even a scratch!"
Her heart ached inside her chest.
Sweet Elbereth, thank you!
"I swear, sometimes I think my brother is made of iron! He couldn't possibly go through all this without suffering some sort of wound!"
Lothíriel recalled the deep bruising cut on his torso that faithful night in the Houses but decided to say nothing to Éowyn. She was worried enough.
"Truly he must be like a son of Gods to be this lucky!" she added.
"Invincible!!"
Their laughter rose high.
"He asks me to go to him, to Cormallen..."
"So did my father..." Lothíriel say in her turn.
"Will you go?"
"My dear friend, as much as I wished, I can not... There is so much to do here... The Houses need all the help they can get... I dare not turn my back on them now. And you?"
"A great part of me wishes to go but... I... I can't seem to bear the thought of leaving Faramir behind..."
Lothíriel smiled and gathered her friend's hands in hers.
"I've watched you together, on your walks... You truly do love him don't you?"
"I do... He is a part of my that was lost and is now found."
"Sweet Valar, should I believe my ears?! He made you a poet!!" Lothíriel said smiling.
"The truth is I never thought to feel this way... There was a moment when I believed I was in love... But in in all honesty, it was a desire to forget my mindless life. My need for reason! Something to fight for, to heat my days! It wasn't real love, not like a woman should feel... But with your cousin... It is different. This is something that grew in here." she said pointing to her heart. "Something I feel yet can't explain. I feel empty when he's not around and it hurts inside to be without him..."
Lothíriel sighed. "Well... Who would've guessed...? Such a mighty Shieldmaiden of Rohan... head over heels in love with a Gondorian prince..."
Éowyn looked aghash to Lothíreil, feigning shock. "But he is not just any gondorian prince and you know it..."
Lothíriel laughed at her friend's expression. "I do, my dear friend. He is a good man... The very best of man! Brave and valiant... Honorable..."
Éowyn took a deep breath.
"I feel lucky, you know... Lucky that I have found someone like him. Someone that truly makes me happy. If only every one could have such luck!" she stared at Lothíriel. "Have you anyone?"
Lothíriel blushed and her gaze went straight to the ground.
"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to be rude." Éowyn said quickly. "I sometimes forget my place and manners. We, the Eorlingas, are used to be straightforward."
"I know and I value that honesty of yours. But no... There's no one for me..."
"Yet!" Éowyn said smiling. "I'm sure that somewhere down the road there's the one for you!"
"Perhaps..." she said, wishing that the conversation would take a different turn.
"And someone for my brother! How he deserves to be happy!! We shall have to find someone for him! I might need your help. Do you..."
From the inside of the Houses, a calling.
"My Lady Lothíriel!" Laetes said.
Perfect timing!!
"Will you be so kind as to assist me in a minor surgery?" He continued. "I feel you alone have the stomach for it..."
"But of course, Master Laetes. Lead the way!"
"I'll save you a place for lunch!" She heard Éowyn say just before she disappeared into the treatment room.
*****
Cormallen, 8th April, 3019
Éomer watched as the fire ate at the log. He needed sometime alone, to put his thoughts in order. I was going to be king of Rohan. He had to take his uncle's body home, see that the wounded were taken care of, start to rebuild Rohan. There was much to do. But where to start?
He took a deep breath and stirred the fire. He would need advisors. Éothain, for sure. He could count on Erkenbrand. He would be a good Marshall of the Westfold. And of course, Elfhem. How sad they had lost Grimbolt... He would be dearly missed.
He had many good friends to turn for help. Rising in adversity was not new to them. The Eorlingas were strong and had seen much toil in the past. They would overcome this. The question was, would he be the right man to lead them?
One day at a time... We shall cross each bridge as we get there, Théodred used to say.
"Why do you stand here in the cold?" Erchirion asked him.
"I have no business inside..."
Inside meant the grand tent that was erected to accommodate the two halflings that the great Eagle Gwaihir had found on what was left of Mount Doom.
"Éomer, when will this cease?"
"I don't understand..."
"I mean to say, when will you stop feeling like an outsider among us?"
"I don't!" he said fervently.
"Really? Then why do you seat here by the fire, by yourself, while the rest of us are gather in the warmth, with food and wine to spare?"
Éomer took some time to answer.
"I do not know the halflings..."
"Neither did I! That is no excuse. Come and introduce yourself, like we did."
The young King paused.
"You're right... I'll be there in a minute then."
Erchirion had to laugh.
"You such a bad liar, my friend..." he sat next to Éomer and pocked the fire. "So tell me, apart from the fact that you don't know the halflings, what troubles you?"
"I think I'm just overwhelmed by all that as happened in such a short period of time..."
Erchirion nodded. "It is a lot, I'll grant you that."
"A lot?! That's the understatement of this age!"
"Ah! He can make a joke!" The middle prince of Dol Amroth gave him a pat on the back. "Good for you! I confess I had great doubts about your sense of humour... Sorry about that!"
"I'ts fine, I do get that a lot..."
Silence fell between them. After a while, Éomer forced himself to speak.
"It scares me to go back home." he confessed. "I've said it to Gandalf once but I was not meant to be King!"
"Nothing is certain, my friend, only Death. Let me tell you something. When I was 8 years old, my mother became pregnant again. No one expected it, we were three already and let me tell you, quite a handful. But my mother never gave up on having a little girl. So, she was certain that this time her will would prevail. But by the fifth month, she had a miscarriage and lost the baby."
Éomer could see the sadness in Erchirion's eyes.
"I'm sorry. I did not know..."
"Her heart was broken and for some time she wasn't herself. Her joy was gone. But after a while, she came back to us and she was ready to try again. A year later, Lothíriel was born."
Éomer looked puzzled.
"My point is, life doesn't always give you what you expect. Nor what you want. It just gives you opportunities. And we can take them, turn them to our advantage and do something good. Or we can fight it. But in the end change is inevitable."
He stood and held his hand to Éomer.
"So... Come. It's time to adapt."
Éomer smiled as he rose and joined Erchirion. Entering the tent, he thought, that among friends, adaptation and change could not be that bad.
A\N: Again, I'm so thankful for all the reviews! And again, I'm sorry about delaying my posts! But I'm trying to keep up, honestly!! =)