Chapter 16
Rohan, 10th August, 3019
It didn't take them long to get the party settled in Edoras and there were important matters at hand. It was time to lay Théoden to rest in the halls of his forefathers. So, on the next day, it was barely dawn when the funeral procession set out from the walls of the city. The day was clad in mist and the wind still blew cold without the warmth of the sun.
On their way to the burial grounds, Lothíriel's eyes searched the crowd. She could tell that Théoden was a loved king. Numerous people, nobles and commoners alike, had gathered to say their farewells. Their sorrow was evident.
It is a hard time for every family... Éowyn looked devastated. It had been the second great lost in the family that year. First Théodred, now Théoden... Tears fell freely from her deep blue eyes as she sang the song of mourning. Lothíriel was glad that her cousin was there for her.
And then there was Éomer, looking mighty and strong in the midst of it all. Standing tall, shoulders straight and no tears in his eyes. But his look was empty, almost devoid of life. He was grieving deeply... This was how he grieved... Alone... To himself... How she wished she could just put her arms around him and hold him tightly. Be his comfort. But she could not...
As the ceremony ended and the crowd made their way back to the city, the royal family and their guests returned to Meduseld. The Golden Hall was warm and the servants had set the tables with some refreshments and food. They guests spread and light talk was heard all around. Conversations of great deeds, valiant efforts and wise choices on Théoden's part. Praises to his reign. But the family was not in a mood for a gathering and they retired early. For them, although they celebrated life, right there and now there was no room for laughter... only sorrow.
One by one, the guests started to retire as well.
"Ninniach nín, aren´t you coming?" Imrahil asked his daughter as she lingered still in the hall.
"I'm just going to check on Éowyn, Ada. You go ahead."
"You are a good friend. Good night, my child." he placed a light kiss on her brow.
"G'night, Ada."
Lothíriel spotted Éowyn on the terrace. She was leaning on the rail next to her brother. Faramir sat in a nearby bench.
"Hey." she greeted as she sat by him. "How is she?"
"Hurt." he replied softly. "But it is natural... With time the pain will ease."
She understood that he was thinking about Boromir and felt his pain.
"But it will never go away, will it cousin?"
He smiled kindly as he turned to face her.
"No... It will stay."
"But you have each other... New joys will dull the old hurt."
She turned to the Rohir siblings and saw Éomer embrace his sister and kiss the top of her head. Then, he turned to leave and Lothíriel could see him going into the Kings' study. The study that once belong to his uncle and that now was his own.
Éowyn looked towards the sky, stargazing, enjoying the night air... And probably remembering happy times with their family...
Faramir rose from his seat.
"I better go to her... Good night, Thíri."
"Goodnight."
Lothíriel stood and walked back to the warmth of the Golden Hall. She was torn between seeking Éomer and not disturb his peace. Eventually, she decided to follow Éomer. She was worried for him, more than she would like to admit... She hadn't seen him cry... How could a man loose so much and not shed a single tear? She knew he was trying to maintain a strong façade but at what cost? Some things should not be held inside... It could eat a man alive. She walked to the study and gently knock on the door. No response. She opened the door and there she found him, sitting at his desk, elbows on the table and his face hidden in his hands. He lifted his head to her when he heard her come in. His eyes were brimmed with unshed tears.
Lothíriel felt a tug in her heart. Silently, she closed the door, crossed the room and came to his side. Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and felt him drawing her near, holding her by the waist. His grip was so tight she felt she would break. But it didn't matter...
She felt his tears through the fabric of her dress as he wept silently. She bent over him, leaned her head on the top of his, and soothed her hands through his back.
"Hush... It's alright..." She whispered softly. "It will be alright..."
He raised his head to look into her eyes and she saw so much hurt and confusion in them. She cupped his face and ran her thumbs through his face, erasing the tears streams.
"Stay with me..." he asked in a low voice. "Say you'll stay with me tonight, Thíri..."
She sighed deeply. She shouldn't even be here, alone with a man not from her family and without proper supervision...In Gondorian etiquette, such behavior was highly condemned. But to be honest, with him had her behavior ever been proper? Looking deep in his eyes, she made her decision. She didn't care what everyone might say... He needed her.
She smiled at him and placed a very soft kiss in his lips.
"Come," she said. "Let us sit here by the fire."
She took his hand in hers and motioned towards the fireplace. He followed her and both sat on the soft fluffy rug on the floor.
"Tell me about your life here..." she asked as she leaned against a big leather chair.
Silence fell between them. Éomer was not very fond of talking about himself but strangely he felt at ease with Lothíriel. Words came out naturally around her.
"It is a strange feeling coming home this time... It griefs me to bury my uncle... Far beyond any words can describe."
Lothíriel hadn't met Théoden King for he fell on the Pellenor Fields on that day in mid March. She knew he had fought bravely and gave he life fore what he believed. And she knew he loved his family and did everything he could to protect them. She had a feeling she would've liked Théoden... To bad there hadn't been any time for that.
She could sense the grief and sorrow in Éomer's words. It made her wanting to protect him, to take away all his pain... If only it was that easy.
"Come." she said making him lay on the mat with his head on her lap. "Tell me of him... Of your family..."
She heard Éomer take a deep sigh. It is never easy to take a trip down memory lane. He was of the royal house but, as much as Éomer loved the Riddermark, he had seen some hard times.
"My father was a Marshall of the Mark, a good warrior like his father before him, and he defended Rohan with all his might. As much as he could anyway... And for a while, it seemed that to fight was all he could do. Until the day he met my mother... It is said that they fell immediately in love. My father asked for permission to marry her and my grandfather agreed."
"Really?" she asked surprised. "Just because they were in love? Even if she was a princess and he a warrior?"
"Well, in truth my father was a descendant of Eorl, the brave. And, yes, my mother was a princess of royal blood... But she was also very stubborned... Much like Éowyn actually! Or other princesses I know!"
She laughed lightly.
"She vowed she would marry him or not at all. So my grandfather really didn't have much of a choice. Soon after, I was born and then Éowyn... Life was good to us. I don't remember much but I do recall it was a happy time." he paused.
"And then...?" she pressed on.
"Then darkness lurked at our doors and war ensued. My father was killed... He was always too impulsive. In a battle, he fought with frenzy, heart over mind... His death destroyed my mother, drove her to despair... She died soon after."
"I'm so sorry... You must've been very young..." She said, caressing his hair distractingly.
"Eleven... My Uncle took us under his guard and we came to live here, in Meduseld. Théodred was by then 24 and he was a hero in my eyes. And will always be... He was the older brother everyone should have. He was always there for us, me and Éowyn. As I grow up, he taught me everything! How to ride, how to shoot with a bow, throw a spear, fight with swords, how to..." he stopped himself.
"How to... what?" she asked softly.
"How to love a woman..." he said, looking deep into her eyes, sending chills down her back.
"Hum... I'm not sure I like this part... I'm torn between thanking him and wanting to strangle him."
His chuckle was deep and resonated through her.
I better change the conversation or soon enough there will be no talking...
"Tell me more..."
"I became Third Marshal of Riddermark at the age of six and twenty and my days were spent in the Eastmark with my éored. We used Aldburg as our base camp."
"Hum... A marshall so soon?"
"Well, I'm no mere man, my lady..." he replied with a sly grin.
Don't I know... she thought.
"And Aldburg... What is it?"
"Not what but where. It was my father's house, his inheritance. It had once belong to Eorl and was used as the Royal House before the Golden Hall was built. When the council and the king moved here, Aldburg was passed down the descendant's line and came to be owned by my father. Théoden King passed it to me when I came of age."
"What about Théodred? What happened to him?"
"My cousin was a brilliant soldier. But evil has many ways... He was ambushed in the Fords of Isen. His garrison was patrolling the river banks when Saruman's Orcs attacked them. Few survived... I was able to get him home still breathing but his wounds were too deep... He was gone some hours after, on the 25th of February..."
"Oh... Was he an only son?"
"Yes, he was a late child and my aunt died when he was born. My uncle never remarried."
"Such loss... He must have been devastated..."
"Not at the time... Théoden King was under the influence of Gríma Wormtongue, a traitor! I always knew there was something about that little weasel!" Lothíriel could see a tic starting at his jaw. She knew already that it was a sign of his famous ill temper. "Later, we discovered that he was colluded with Saruman to weaken the king and destroy Rohan. So when Théodred died, my uncle was still under his spell... He knew nothing of what went on around him. At a time, he even signed an order for my arrest..."
"No!"
"True... But then, on a stroke of luck - or fate, I don't know – a few days later, three strangers entered my life and it all changed. In a rapid succession of events, Gandalf, the Wizard, came to Rohan, freed the king from Saruman's grasp and Gríma was no more... The rest you know..."
"Yes... The battle at Helm's Deep... The ride to Minas Tirith... The battle of the Pellenor Fields... You came to us..."
"And for my part, I would do it again to prove my loyalty to Aragorn. But now I have to face my people in pain and deliver them their king... dead..."
"But they will have another... You..." My love, it almost slipped from her tongue.
"He was a good man... A good king..."
She could hear doubt in his voice. Doubt in his ability to rule.
"So are you..."
"Am I?" he whispered.
"Yes." she answered without hesitation. "I know it in my heart."
She lowered her head to his and their lips met. Before she kissed him, he whispered "Thank you..."
Éothain came to Éomer's room just before dawn. He too was concerned about his friend. Éomer always had that though look but inside he felt deeply. It wasn't going to be easy to get through this.
He found the room empty, his bed untouched and his friend nowhere to be seen. He had already checked the stables. Firefoot was there and in this time there was no way Éomer would take another horse. He had passed through the deserted hall and at this hour the kitchen was bubbling with too much activity.
The study. He thought. Maybe there...
He entered the king's study and froze by the door. Well, Éomer was there. But he wasn´t alone. In the great white rug in front of a dying fireplace, Éomer, King of Rohan lay sound asleep... with Lothíriel of Dol Amroth in his arms...
A pretty picture... And also a diplomatic incident of massive proportions! He came shealtly to Éomer's side and pat him on the shoulder. The king was immediatly awake but didn't move.
"You should take some precautions, my lord..." he whispered in his ear. "The house is not yet awake but soon it will be impossible for anyone to return to their beds... Unseen, I mean..."
Éomer nodded silently and Éothain retired, shutting the door behind him.
Éomer turned to look at Lothíriel. She laid carelessly in his arms, in abandonment, her back leaning against his chest.
He couldn't bring himself to wake her... He couldn't do anything but watch her sleep, just a little while longer.
Béma, woman... I'm lost to you...
He caressed her check and let his hand slide across her dark long hair. How good would it be to wake every morning by her side...
"Wake up, leóf mín..." he called while he kissed her left ear. "Lothíriel..."
"I dream, for sure..." she reply, stirring. She turned and moved closer to him.
"Morning comes..." he said, caressing her cheek with the back of his other hand. "You should go before someone misses you..."
"Yes..." she said, leaning against his hand and closing her eyes. She moved closer and curled up against him. "I should go but..." she sighed.
"But what?"
"But I don't think I want to..."
She moved forward and brushed her lips to his.
"Good Morning, my lord."
She kissing him deeply, moving her hands towards his waist to draw him near.
"Thíri..." he said breaking the kiss. "Believe me, this is the last thing I want but you really should go!"
Her response was to move even closer to him, molding her body to his. She felt him freeze instantly.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Woman, you better cease that or I won't be accounted by my actions..." he grunted hoarsely.
A smile came to her lips. She liked to have that effect on him.
"Really...?"
"Really!" he moved away an inch and laid on his side, holding his head on his hand. He kept his eyes on her as she rolled over. Her hair was tussled, her eyes sleepy. She looked beautiful. "Your brothers will kill me..."
She laughed. But she knew he was right. It was insane to still be there with the rising of the sun. Sighing, she complied. She rose and ran her hands through her dress. It had wrinkles everywhere.
"Just look at me! I must look a fright!"
"More like a sight..." she heard him say.
She smiled and bend down to kiss him once more before heading towards the door. She opened it carefully and looked outside.
"There's no one, I'll take the..." she turned, hoping to finding him still on the floor but he was already wrapping his arms around her. He cupped her face gently in his hands and placed all his passion into a kiss, as if trying to make a mark on her. Branding her as his.
"Now this is a proper farewell kiss..."
Sweet Valar, could I fall more deeply in love with this man...
"I'll see you at breakfast?" She managed to say, her head spinning.
He nodded and as she disappeared through the door, he pulled her back for another kiss.
"Éomer..." she tried to argue but her arms were already around his neck, her hands in his hair.
"Last one..." he said to her lips.
And with a final kiss and a light laugh, Lothíriel left him alone in the study where he could simply fall on his chair and admit that he was utterly lost to her.
"Pity me, Gods... For I'm a man in love..."
A|N: OMG, I'm really, really sorry I took so long to update...
I know it's no excuse but work is killing me!
I'll try to keep up! Promise! =)
Love!