Notes: Sorry for the chapter delay! Went on a trip and forgot to update before I left. Hope you enjoy it! Let me know :)
"Are you worried?" The princess paced the dining hall from one long length to the other, her face gone pale and her hair dropping it's wilted flowers along the path. The men had slept but she had not. In her arms she was carrying her brother's child. The baby looked up at her with big, wide eyes but did not cry out. As if to say, "yes, I am. But not so worried as you are."
Elphir, the oldest of her brothers already wore his armour. His wife was in his arms, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. Their twin children, a boy and a girl of six years were looking small and younger than their age, holding their mother's skirts, the boy with his thumb in his mouth, and the girl crying softly. Elphir had the same stern, lined face as his father but with the same softness as he spoke quietly to his wife and children. He held all of them closer and tighter as the hour grew closer to dawn but none of them protested his tight grip.
Erchirion, the middle son was being helped into his ring-mail by his own wife, a sturdy woman who lifted the heavy mail like it was a bed sheet, and who would not let the servants help. She was big with their second child, and it was their first born who Lothiriel held in her arms. After Erchirion had pulled on his coat, he held out his arms to his sister, who stopped her ritual of worry just long enough to kiss the head of the child and give him to his father. Then she began again.
Amrothos was helped by servants who quietly dressed him, taking extra care to polish anything that did not gleam, and who fussed over him like he was their own child, though he towered over most. It was Amrothos who replied to Ella, and who stopped her infernal progress and pulled her into his arms, "There is but one path. At least we shall not grow lost." and from inside his arms, her cheek pressed uncomfortably against sharp metal, Ella giggled wetly, trying desperately not to cry in front of her brothers.
Éomer stood, fully dressed with Éowyn beside him. He felt like an outsider here, witnessing a family scene that he had no right to interrupt, but he and his sister had been invited to break fast with Imrahil's family, and so they both looked to each other, growing less and less comfortable as the minutes ticked by.
"Your Majesty, Princess Éowyn." Ella pulled herself from her brother's arms, wiping at her cheeks. "Pardon us, we're..." She trailed off, gesturing to this scene helplessly. She offered a hand to Éowyn who took it, and led her to the table, offering her a seat. Éomer followed, but he did not sit, only stood behind his sister, his hands protectively on the back of her chair. Ella stood still for a moment which seemed to take a great deal of effort and she poured two glasses of water, offering one to Éowyn and then one to Éomer. Her eyes met his, "I do hope you'll forgive us our dramatics. We're all rather prone to it."
Erichirion added helpfully, "It's what comes of being descended from Elves."
Amrothos laughed, a sharp bark, but that was enough ease the tension a bit. Elphir's wife finally removed herself from his arms, her face red and swollen, and she reached down to her children. "Childen, your Grandfather is going to be late as usual. Shall we get started eating?"
The children nodded, tiny smiles breaking out on solemn faces and they rushed over to the breakfast spread, grabbing at the sweet things with tiny sticky fingers. Ella giggled and swatted them away like flies, "Little savages. Brother, you're raising savages. Do you not feed them? Do you deny them their daily allotment of chocolate? Sit. Sit, little monsters. C'mon now. Come along. Sit down and you can eat."
She lifted the lighter of the trays and brought it to the table, then went back for the other. "Amrothos, come help me."
"I can't." Amrothos had one of his arms up as the shoulder guard was being repositioned repeatedly. "You'll have to come feed me by hand."
"I'm certainly not doing that." Ella looked around the room, her eyes settling on Éomer and she bowed to him slightly. "Your Majesty?"
Éomer squeezed his sister's shoulder and nodded, coming to help Ella. He wasn't sure why she asked for help, he knew she didn't really need it. He had seen her lift a man's body onto a board and drag it for a far longer distance than the the steps it would take to bring the tray to the table.
"I hope," she said softly, as she arranged, and then rearranged the various cups and spreads and utensils on the tray, "that we are still friends. I was not fair yesterday. I was not kind. I took offence where I do not think you meant any."
Éomer set down the tray, reaching over in turn to add some more weight to it, and then to pull into chaos what the princess had just settled. She grinned, hiding it behind her dishevelled curls. "I spoke badly, and without thought. I would not have us part as enemies. I think, there is still a great deal our countries do not know about each other."
Ella nodded and she added to the chaos of his design, then she paused, picking a flower that had not yet lost it's sprightliness from her hair and tucking it under a layer of cloth on his sleeve. "My family has a flair for dramatics, if you have not heard."
Without thinking of it he laid his hand on top of hers. "It is not well known, but my family has a penchant for bluntness. Some even call us rough."
"That is rude of them." She said nothing about his hand on hers, though she started to turn a light pink. "They must not know how very much you care. Perhaps they are blind. Have you checked their eyes?"
"I have not." The two of them arranged the tray to rights again, the little clinks and thuds breaking the silence that otherwise filled the room. "Princess."
"Yes?"
"It is imprudent of you to be fond of me. Your timing is terrible."
"I know." She shrugged lightly, "I was rather less fond of you yesterday."
"And today?"
"I'm very worried for you." She smiled softly, "And it has brought my fondness back tenfold. It is extremely frustrating."
"Would it help if I told you I was not very fond of you yesterday either?" She wrinkled her nose and set her shoulder against his, giving him a soft shove. "and today I find I am fonder of you than I had thought."
She froze for a moment, as she processed this new information and quickly she brought his hand, still on top of hers to her lips and kissed the knuckles, before dropping his hand entirely. He shook his head, finding himself speechless. The smile she gave him was impish... and immeasurably sad. She jerked her head to the table, where the members of their two families settled down to pretend to eat. He lifted the tray and the two of them parted, sitting down to sip water and wait.
Ella pulled her niece into her lap, Lylia, who fussed for a moment before peppering her aunt in crumbs. Ella remained silent, lost in thought, her lips pressed to the top of the girl's head.
Finally the Prince arrived, splendid in his armour. His face had more lines than any of them remembered and his hair more white. Ella rose to curtsey, followed by her siblings and Éomer and Éowyn.
One by one, the brothers came before their father and received a blessing, a few words... something from their father than no one else could hear. Éowyn shifted impatiently, she did not understand why they had been brought to this breakfast when their own men were waiting to leave. Éomer thought perhaps he did. Amrothos knew the two of them had no family left in the city. He imagined that the youngest son had hoped to give them a farewell to the city that might cheer their spirits slightly. Éomer had to admit, like Éowyn he was eager to see his own men. He could see why a family as close as Imrahil's would pity him and Éowyn their orphanhood, but he knew they only needed each other.
The Prince called to his daughter and Ella put down Lylia and knelt before her father. Prince Imrahil drew his daughter to her feet and spoke to her. He put her hands in his and their gaze locked. She nodded ever so often, her face hardening from her private sadness to the strength that her father asked of her. Like a seasoned player, Ella rolled her shoulders back and squared her chest, her chin lifting slightly. Princess Lothiriel, the The White Swan of Dol Amroth. There she was. Her father kissed her head, as she had kissed Lylia's and Ella was dismissed.
Finally Imrahil called Éomer to him. Unlike the little bubble of privacy that had been created when he spoke to his children, as the Prince spoke to Éomer, everything seemed to shift back into movement. The two men talked as they walked towards the courtyard where their private guard awaited, and further down to the streets of Minas Tirith as the people threw flowers to the soldier and sang out hymns to the gods. To the gates of Minas Tirith where the army waited.
"We ride now, King of Rohan. Our final battle lays before us. Set in darkness and commanded by a power we scarcely understand. And yet, as we ride, I would have you know that our company is good and I consider our meeting to be a gift. It is an Honour to ride with you."
Éomer nodded. "And with you, my Prince."
As he went deeper into the ranks of his men, he felt a sense of calm fall on him. Behind him, he could see Éowyn on her horse. Her long blonde hair flew in the wind. Rohan he thought, Rule it well, sister, if I should not return. Know that I fight for us. For our future. That our people might one day be free of terror and know only peace. If we should fail, bring the people of Gondor to our land and show them the safest paths. Welcome them to be one of us and make a final stand. Luck to you, my sister. My half.
He drew up to the front of his guard, the reins to Firefoot in his hand as he mounted his horse. Again he looked back.
There was Ella, her dark hair breaking free of its plaits, from here you could not see the flowers that had wilted, they all looked bright and she seemed like a creature of some story, her face turned up and towards the sun and the men. She sat tall on her horse. He could see she was crying but she seemed to pay it no mind. She drew her horse forward through the ranks. When she was in front of her father she stopped and bowed in her seat, her voice cracked only once. "Gondor thanks you for your service. Ride, Prince, with the hope of our people to drive you." With a crack, his company broke into movement and the horses streamed by her.
She moved on, to Aragorn, she extended her hand. "Gondor is in debt to you. Ride, Lord Aragorn, with our gratitude to steel your heart and hand." Again, the commander seemed barely to move and suddenly the signal cracked and the whole company flowed forward, settling in behind King Imrahil's men.
One by one, she set the men to their task, her voice growing rough with the shouting it took to overcome the wind and the horses and the men themselves.
With three companies left to do, Ella came to Éomer, she smiled but did not offer him her hand. He remembered the flower she had put in his sleeve and the kiss he carried in his sword arm. He understood he had received his tokens for this battle. "King Éomer, the friendship of the Eorlingas is worth more than every jewel, every coin, and all the metal in the whole of our kingdom. Ride, my Lord, with our friendship. Show the darkness that the light cannot be divided. Rohan and Gondor united."
He inclined his head to her and he urged his horse to a gallop, followed by his men. Ride for Ruin, he thought, grimly, to war. To war. Will we ever return? To glory, to honour, to battle. To War!