A/N Well... So this is it... The final chapter... sniff sniff...
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Chapter 31
Minas Tirith, 25th November 3021
Isn't true that everyone loves a wedding? Well, maybe not… But most do. For it is a celebration of love, a gathering of friends, an excuse for wonderful food... no matter what, most people love a good wedding. And if it is the wedding of two people that dearly love each other...even better.
Today was going to be a special day, Lothíriel thought as she opened the window of her room and welcomed the raising sun.
The weather was indeed beautiful and it would be perfect for a wedding outside.
How happy Éowyn must be... And how Faramir deserves such a day... If only... She thought.
Indeed, if only were the saddest words in every language. Her mind was a complete disaster at the moment and she couldn't even say how her heart felt in her chest. After yesterday, she felt empty. The sadness she had seen in Éomer eyes... It was breaking her heart.
Why didn't you speak...? she asked herself yet again. She couldn't say how many times she hasd asked that question throughout the night.
Trying to put such thoughts apart and be happy for her friend and cousin, she quickly went to Elfwine's room to him ready.
Nooran would watched over Elfwine as she got herself ready. She chose a dress of a deep purple, with some embroidery on the bodice and the sleeves. It was a beauty. But it also very noticeable, the total opposite of the plain lilac dress of her earlier thoughts.
She kept her hair in a simple manner and wore only a simple silver necklace, but she looked far from simple. But why should she be simple? Why should she be plain?
If I have to be the talk of the town, I might as well look good! she thought. Just try to smile and see the day to its end...
One last look in the mirror, a gab of lavender fragrance in her neck and she went to find her family.
Her father and Amrothros were already in the Hall. Nooran sat on a chair with Elfwine in her lap.
"My daughter, you look radiant! I always loved to see you in this color… It reminds me so much of your mother. It was her favorite." he said, with a hint of longing in his voice.
"I know, Ada… I know." She said as she placed a kiss on his cheek.
She then picked up Elfwine and placed him on her hip.
"Are you ready for cousin Faramir's wedding, my love?"
Her son giggled an answer and she could swear her heart melted.
Melian and Elphir came down the stairs, hand in hand.
"Are we all ready to go?"
"All but Erchirion…"
"Were in Mordor is Erchirion?" Amrothros asked. "He's always the first to get ready in this things."
"Hum... He will meet us there, I guess." Elphir said. "I believe he's running a bit late."
"Late?" Amrothros said. "Erchirion? Our Erchirion...?"
"Ah, yes… Apparently, brother Erchirion did not sleep home last night…" Melian added.
"What?" Amrothros said in disbelief. "Erchirion? Are you sure? We are still talking about my brother Erchirion, right? Mr. I'm-a-true-gentleman?"
"Oh, yes."
"Seriously?"
It was Elphir's time to answer.
"We heard him come in just before dawn."
"Oh, Valar… I never thought I would see the day. And I'm not even going to ask what you two were doing awaked just before dawn…"
Melian blushed deeply and looked away as Elphir roared with laughter.
"Well, I say we should get going," Lothíriel stated. "before we are all late to the ceremony!"
The family walked to the King's Court on the seventh level where the mob gathered.
Aragorn stood in a higher dais, next to his beloved Queen, to perform the ceremony.
The royal family of Dol Amroth found their place in the first row on Faramir's side.
Her cousin looked calm but inside Lothíriel knew he was nervous. She could tell by the way he kept playing with his family ring on his right hand. She had to smile at that. Who would imagine that her cool and collected cousin could be nervous about anything...
Soon after, soft music was heard and Éowyn came, on her brother's arm, looking radiant, almost luminous in her perfect white dress. On her hands, a small bouquet of wild flowers from the plains of Rohan.
However, Lothíriel eyes were on Rohan's King. In his deep red royal clothing, he certainly looked the part. A true King amongst men.
As brother and sister reached Aragorn, the king placed their hands together.
"Is it you who gives this woman?" he asked the King of Rohan.
"My lord, I'm but a man... And although she is my sister and so dear to my heart, she is not mine to give. She is Éowyn, daughter of Éomund, niece of Théoden, the Great, and the White Lady of Rohan. She has a will of her own... You question the wrong man..." he said and the power of his voice resonated through Lothíriel.
She closed her eyes and held her son closely.
How she missed his voice. How she missed him…
Aragorn smiled and turned to Éowyn, who was now in tears.
"What say you, my lady? Is it of your will to bind yourself to this man, eternally?"
"Yes." she said.
"It shall be so."
Éomer placed her hand in Faramir's and kissed his sister's cheek.
"I'll always be here for you, little sister." he whispered so only she could hear.
He looked deep into her eyes as she mouthered "I know..."
He turned his gaze to the Prince of Ithilien.
"You are taking the greatest treasure of my people. Be sure to keep it safe and loved or by Béma you will have to deal with me!"
Some chuckled in the first row. Including Amrothos which, of course, was the louder of the bunch.
Éomer took his place of the first row, on Éowyn's side, but not before looking at Lothíriel who looked like a queen in that purple dress. The most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon.
I'm lost...
He turned to Éothain besides him and whispered.
"We are leaving tomorrow morning, as soon as the sun rises."
"But my Lord..."
"Éothain... See it done."
He forced his gaze to shift to Aragorn as the Gondorian King turned to the couple and spoke.
"Here, you stand and pledge your love. Here, among friends and family, you choose one another. Do you do it freely?"
"I do." Faramir said.
"I do." Éowyn added.
"So, hold your hands and bind your hearts."
Faramir faced his beloved and spoke the precious words.
"From this day forth, I am yours and you are mine. To respect, to care, to treasure."
Éowyn couldn't stop a sneaky tear from escaping her eye as she repeated the words to him.
And then finally, the words all expected to hear were spoken by the King.
"Faramir, Prince of Ithilien and Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan. From here on, you will be husband and wife. "
The crowd cheered and the rohirrim roared.
Faramir took Éowyn in his arms and kissed his wife, softly at first but then passionately making the mob even louder.
A little caught off guard at first, Éowyn drew her arms around Faramir's neck and poured all her love into their first kiss as man and wife.
Lothíriel smiled at her dear friends although a pang of envy pounded in her chest. It was good to see them so happy… But why couldn't it be her?...
Trying to forsake her thoughts she turned to her brother and caught a glimpse of Éomer looking at her.
Once more, she could hear herself think.
Happiness is within your grasp… You only have to reach and take it! Don't give up…
She had to talk to him.
No more running.
She took a deep breath and headed for Éomer but as she tried to get near Rohan's King, the bride and groom passed by.
She kissed her cousin and hugged Éowyn tightly, expressing how happy she was for the two of them and how she hoped life would grant them love eternal.
As the crowd followed the newly wedded happy couple through the yard and into the doors of the Great Hall, she momentarily lost sight of Éomer.
Her father offered his arm to her and she took it. She had missed her opportunity but she wasn't about to give up.
They walked slowly thought the crowd and Lothíriel could sense the stares and whispers from the court.
It was common at feasts and banquets to have a high table for royalty and dignitaries, several low tables for the influential people and benches for the most general crowd.
Aragorn had banned that tradition. He couldn't, however, yet avoid the high table… No, no, no, his councilors had said. Not the high table! He would surely win that battle. It was only a matter of time.
Éomer sat with his Marshalls at one of the low tables, his back was turned to her so she could not see his face. But apparently he was having a great time, drinking with his friends, laughing loudly… Maybe she was mistaken… Maybe she was imagining, seeing what she wanted to see… Maybe he didn't miss her at all… Shaking her head, as if letting go of such vain feelings, Lothíriel hugged her son to her and sat at the royal table by her family.
The banquet that followed was a massive one but Éomer couldn't enjoy it. He tried to look cheerful. Tried to be happy for his sister. He hadn't seen her so happy in such a long time… Truly Faramir was the perfect man for her because she positively glowed. Alas, he could not smile…
He even joined his Riders on their table, trying to forget the fey creature that haunted his dreams… But every now and then, his eyes betrayed him and seeked her out. And every time it took his breath away… There was no way around it… She was the love of his life… That picture of her and her child would be engraved in his memory and he would have to live with it for the remainder of his days… Because no woman would ever take her place… No woman would ever be Lothíriel in his heart…
With his heart shattered in pieces, he turned to his cup of ale. Alcohol would be a fine companion tonight.
Lothíriel started to feel the weight of all the turmoil inside her and felt the urge to get some some fresh air and a quiet place.
Night had fallen but in November in Minas Tirith the weather was still warm enough to venture outdoors. So, she decided to sit on a bench near the White Tree of Gondor, now full in bloom like never she had witnessed before.
"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" Imrahil asked her for the tenth time.
"Yes, Ada, I'm sure. I just need to sit here and rest a little. Elfwine grows heavier, day by day."
"Ah, that's because he is a healthy young boy!" he said while tickling his grandson. "Still, I'm going inside to get a glass of wine and I'll bring you some water for him all right?"
She sighed deeply. He was such a protective family man.
"Fine, Ada. Thank you."
Inside, Imrahil headed for the main table to fetch his goblet and there he found Éomer, sitting alone, watching his sister dance with her husband, happy.
"It is never easy to lose the ones we love, isn't?" He said to the young king.
"No..." he replied. "But it warms my heart to see her so happy! She deserves this new life. I'm just sad that it is so far away from me..."
Imrahil smiled.
"Ah, spoken like a true brother. And you, my friend? Shouldn't you be starting a family of your own?"
Éomer's eyes dropped to the floor.
"I fear it is too late for me."
"Really? Such heavy words from such a young man... My father used to say that nothing is beyond repair while we still drew breath. But sometimes it takes time and great courage to take a step towards what we want."
Éomer faced Imrahil but he was silent. The Prince smiled and stood.
"Once you told me I could count on your help should I need it."
"I would move heaven and earth to come to your aid, my lord."
Imrahil placed the cup in Éomer's hands .
"Well then, will you do me a favor and take this glass of water to my daughter? She sits outside by the Tree."
And with that, the prince of Dol Amroth walked away.
For a moment, Éomer stood still. What had just happened? What had Imrahil meant by this? Was he telling him to go to Lothíriel? But wasn't she married?
Perhaps her husband has perished... Could he hope? It was a horrible thought, to wish the death of another... But it gave him such sweet hope. And what did he really had to lose. His heart? It was long lost, no danger there! With resolve, he strode across the Great Hall and headed to the courtyard.
Nothing to lose! He thought. Béma help me...
He found her exactly where Imrahil had said. Sitting by the fountain, near the tree. She had Elfwine with her. The young boy had his hands in the water, slapping contently and making his mother laugh.
What beautiful sound that was... her laughter...
"Lothíriel..." he said, quietly.
She turned to his voice.
"Éomer..." she was able to say, despite the lump suddenly lodged in her throat.
"Your father asked me to bring you this..." he said, placing the glass nearby. He sat in the rim of the fountain looking at her and Elfwine.
"Thank you… that is very kind of you."
Silence came between them. So much to said, but where to begin?...
In the begging just like Éothain said.
"I..." she said.
"I..." he tried, at the same time.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
"I want to ask you for your forgiveness..." Éomer finally said.
"My forgiveness?... What is there to forgive…?"
"Please..." he said raising his hand. "Let me finish." He took a deep breath and gathered all his strength. "I'm not a man gifted with words. Horses and wars have been my trade for as long as I can remember. But I believe I can say that I loved you from the very first moment I saw you."
Her heart leaped. With difficulty, she kept her mouth shut.
"And I can also say that... even thought we were facing what could possibly be our ultimate destruction, I was the happiest of men on the eve of the great battle ever fought."
Breath, Lothíriel. Remember to breath. She thought.
"And when you came to Edoras in the summer, I could picture you there by my side. As Rohan's Queen. As my wife… But when I asked you to marry me and you said it wasn't the time, my heart doubted..."
"But I always loved you..." she offered.
"And I drove you away... With hateful and rash words, I drove you away... I'm sorry for it... I never meant to hurt you..."
A tear was falling from his eye. The man was crying for her... Sweet Elbereth.
Her hand reached his face and touched his cheek whipping the trail.
He leaned towards it and turned his head to kiss her palm.
"Forgive me..."
"There is nothing to forgive... You gave me the greatest of gifts, my love."
His eyes were fixed on hers, questioning her words.
"Éomer... Elfwine is seven months old."
He looked puzzled at her. She continued.
"Which means... he was conceived about sixteen months ago..." she continued.
Think, my love! She silently asked.
"At the end of the Ring War..." he said.
He was catching up. She smiled.
"That's right..."
"But... that would be when you were..." words faulted.
"In Edoras… With you..." she finished, her voice almost a whisper.
Ages seemed to pass by. Neither could say a word.
"He's...mine?... My son...?" He asked looking straight into her green eyes.
"Yes..." She nodded in agreement.
Éomer faced the bab. He felt as if the very air was trapped inside his lungs.
"You're my son..." he said as held the baby tightly in his arms.
Elfwine chuckled at been lifted in the air.
"My son!" Éomer said louder.
Then turning to Lothíriel, whose face was covered in tears.
"You waited for me..."
"How could I not...? I left my heart with you..."
He held her cheek in his palm and leaned his forehead onto hers.
"Léof mín..."
His kiss spoke louder than a thousand words... A sweet soft kiss that was slowly turning into a burning fire. As they paused she finally was able to speak.
"I'm sorry I kept this from you but I was so scared... And I didn't want to burden you..." she said, her eyes closed.
"Burden me? Thíri, you mean more to me than anything... How could you think that?"
"You need time to adjust to your duties... I didn't thought it was fair to you..."
"It would have been the greatest treasure you could've given me...The woman I love, carrying my child... It would never be a burden... You are my joy. "
"I'm sorry..." her voice was almost a whisper.
"No more tears, leóf mín. That is all in the past. We have a future to consider now." He drew her near and surroundered her shoulders with his right arm. He sat Elfwine on his left leg. "I want you to tell me all about my son. But first... I must ask you, my love... Would you give me the honor of your hand in marriage...?"
Lothíriel's smile lighted her eyes. So much time was lost to the past but she could she her future... And it was beautiful.
On his lips, she answered Yes.