Notes: Thank you for your patience everyone! I'm sorry this chapter took a bit longer, it was really hard to write with one of the protagonists off at war. No worries though, Eomer will be back before you know it! Your reviews, follows, and faves are incredible and always appreciated. Had a formatting issue last night, but it's all fixed now!
Waiting was not a thing that came naturally to Ella. She doubted that waiting came naturally to anyone at all, but certainly patience was not a virtue she had ever been accused of having. It never ceased to amaze her how people were forced into patience. Women, mostly but almost everyone had at one point or another been told to 'Wait... see the good that will happen" as if by waiting with good humor, one was more likely to earn a good result.
She knew that was not true. The end would be as it was meant to be. The manner of waiting, dutiful or otherwise, made no difference at all.
From the day the army left, and every day after, she found her mood to be slow and dark. She had no desire to speak to anyone, she did not command the servants or even visit the Houses of Healing. Every day she would think she heard someone she loved, or caught of glimpse of some golden hair and never was it who she most wanted. It was not her father, not her brothers, not her friends. She knew that many in Gondor had lost their family. She knew that they were not truly lost. She knew all this and still she had not expected their disappearance in one fell swoop to destroy her so completely. She began a habit of climbing to the tallest point of Minas Tirith and gazing to Mordor. She knew, of course she knew, that the army hadn't even made it to the battle, let alone fought it, but she kept her eyes on the horizon nonetheless. Sometimes she prayed. Sometimes she slept. Most often she stood frozen, pushing all thoughts from her head and forgetting to eat or drink. The sun was hot on her and the stones of the tower were sharp and dirty but she would settle for the day and only come down when a servant came to fetch her to settle some demand or the other.
The girl, windblown and red from the sun, knew that her father would be ashamed of her. She was mistress of their quarters and she should have been by Faramir's side, doing all that benefited a lady of her rank. A ruler, in all but name, of this city. Instead she was turning daily to stone, too scared to look away. Too timid to miss a moment. Would Mordor change if the battle was lost? She wondered, would she even know if the battle was won?
She didn't let thoughts like that linger too long. The battle would not be won.
On the third day, Ioreth and Éowyn were escorted to her nest. At first, Lothiriel didn't notice them. There was a flash of light in the distance, and she did not know what it meant. It was Ioreth who spoke first. Éowyn did not speak unless there was something to be said, and evidently nothing came to her that the healer could not say.
"You've been gone from the Houses of Healing three days, Mistress."
Ella turned slowly to look at her. Her eyes ached from looking to one spot for so long. Her skin was burned red, and her mouth was dry. She had to swallow several times before she could speak, "I've been busy."
"Staring to the distance?" The woman's tone was dismissive and Ella didn't like it.
"What do you care how I spend my time? The Houses are full of those who are healing. They do not need me. I watch for our armies. I watch for news. I am no concern of yours."
"Indeed, your work is without match. How the city would crumble without you, Princess."
Ella stood quickly, finally turning her full attention to the two women. Her dress was stained and she did not think she looked much like a princess at all. In contrast Éowyn was clean and smelled nice. Her dress was of good quality but simple, and she had her hands clasped in front of her. Her hair was combed and fell in sheets of pale gold to her waist. She held her back straight as a rod. Ella knew that though Aragorn had healed the Lady of Rohan, her wounds still pained her. It must have been hell for her to come up all these stairs. She must have struggled and still she stood in front of Lothiriel and put shame into her heart. This was how a lady ought to behave.
Feeling the Princess's eyes on her, Éowyn met them and managed a small, sad smile. "We are not so very different now, you and I." She took a step towards the girl, who instinctively took a step back. She did not want to dirty Éowyn's clothes. Éowyn was not phased. She closed the gap between them and took Ella's hands. "We both have given all that we love to this battle. We both look to the horizon and pray that when it again grows dark with bodies, it will belong to those who hold our hearts within them, riding back to us."
Ella had once pitied the lady of Rohan. She had pitied both of the children of Éomund and Théodwyn. They were so alone in this world and both of them so strong. Both of them carried their burdens with backs as strong as stone. Now, Ella envied the woman. How could she carry her cares and still be so serene? She wanted to demand an answer. Did the lady have no heart at all that she could not feel it breaking?
"They will not return, Lady Éowyn." Her voice cracked, and she turned back to the distance, in times that were more polite, this would have been a dismissal, "I think you know this. I think you know this as well as I do."
"If you believed that, Your Majesty, you would not sit up here. You would prepare the grain stores and enforce the gates of the city. You would prepare to fly this place, and find the safest routes to distance ourselves from Mordor."
"Indeed." Ella frowned deeply, "That is what a good princess should do."
"You carry hope so deeply in your heart, I believe someone might have to kill to the body to kill the light within."
Ella smiled grimly,"If you seek to murder me, Lady, may I suggest making Ioreth do it? She's as skilled with a blade as you though her edge is considerably smaller, and her clothes are not nearly so nice."
There was silence and it unsettled Ella, she turned quickly to look at her two visitors. Instead of shock, she saw them sharing a conspiratorial glace. Something that resembled amusement.
"You're mocking me." She turned around, and for the first time directed the full weight of her attention to them.
"Princess..." Ioreth took the reins now, and for the respect that Ella felt for her, she listened. "You have condemned your Uncle with word and deed since he retreated and gave up defence of the city-"
Ella held up her hand, "Your point is made, Healer." She did not need to be reminded of her uncle's failures. Nor did she need to be compared to him.
"My lady," The Healer shook her head, "I do not fault you for the way of your mourning, I am sorry I cannot leave you to it. I am sorry that we cannot all mourn in peace, but the time has come to prepare. Either the men will be successful and we will rebuild the city, or the attack will fail in it's purpose and we must create a stronghold for Men."
Ella wanted to cry. Ioreth was asking her to pry herself from this spot and create a future for them from scratch. Is that not what she was asking? Ella wanted to shake her head and refuse, she wanted to point to her years, I am too young. To her upbringing, I am too soft, to herself, I am too weak.
Her eyes went to Éowyn. The Lady of Rohan had not faltered. She had been strong during the siege of Helm's Deep and she had destroyed the Witch King and his Fell beast outside these very gates. If someone offered such responsibility to her, Ella was sure the lady would carry it properly.
"I must wash." Ella looked to the horizon one more time, but it was as clear as it had been before. She sighed and turned her back on it. "Have the grain inventory brought to me, Military reports from the last ten years, and, if possible, we must arrange for representatives from every community in the city to meet with Faramir. He's probably organizing something as we speak, but his rule is large and the things to be done, even larger. He may not yet have had the time and it must be a priority."
Everything is a priority. She thought, allowing the weight of this to settle on her and block out any feelings that still threaten to suffocate her. How will we move the injured? How long will it take to move an entirely city through a path made for a single man and his family to escape? If the grain will not stretch, how will we feed the people in their flight. If the whole city manages to escape and manages to carry the grain, and manages to agree on a location, how can we defend them? A whole city's worth of injured, and old, and women, and children, all there in the open. I will lead my people to a slaughter.
She realized she was holding her fists so tightly that the delicate skin where the sores had been was being pierced by her nails. She shook her head in frustration.
Éowyn reached for the princess, even though Ioreth shook her head in warning. "Lothiriel."
Ella turned suddenly, her distress clear as day. "It is a heavy burden, Lady Éowyn. It is a heavy weight, and you have known it and you will know it again. I see our paths set out before us, and it ends in death every time. It ends in sorrow. I cannot save my people. I can only delay their destruction."
Éowyn nodded her shining head. Ella could not help but think of Éomer, to be reminded of him. They had the same set to their chin when they were grim. They had the same eyes though her's were grey, and his hazel, and they both tilted their heads down and put themselves at your level when they had something they needed to say very much. Éowyn made Ella nervous but she did not make her heart clench in the way that Éomer did, perhaps because Ella knew her less.
"Do not look at the whole path, Princess. Start with the first step."
"That is not the advice I would give you. It is not right.." Ella felt herself frown, and she slowly rethought her words and then amended them. "That is... It is good advice in that I am overwhelmed and sick with shame for having spent three days in idleness. I cannot, however, only look to the first step. I must see everything, every possibility, every number, every path. If I do not, then any misstep is laid squarely on my shoulders." That was not true. It would be laid on Faramir's shoulders and she would accept the blame as her own. Her words sounded better, though. More dramatic.
Éowyn accepted this with a nod. "If we do not hear word within ten days, I will go to my own people. My brother wanted us to join our people and head north."
"My father hoped for the same. I will speak to the Steward." If she was being honest, it made her angry that she could not rile Éowyn the way she could her brother. No matter how she spoke, the White Lady, as the men called her, nodded her head and replied quietly. Ella wanted Éowyn to tell her to grow up. Maybe to shake her. She wanted a way to release the energy that was buzzing through her body. The energy that has been there since the army had gone. Éomer had been more fun to argue with. She missed him. Ella knew Éowyn had a spark within her. Where was it?
Éowyn stopped suddenly, Ioreth at her shoulder and then both took a second and bowed. It took Ella another moment to recognize her cousin coming towards them, and then she too dipped into a curtsey. For the last few weeks Faramir had been confined to a bed, but now he strode through the hall with purpose. He was much thinner than the last time he had wandered the hold, but Lothiriel was reminded of how tall he was. How strong he had been and must still be. His clothes were finer than his hospital threads and he had trimmed his beard and hair. She felt her heart lift high for the first time in days. Faramir could be trusted to do what was right. She could put her faith in him.
"Cousin, you look a fright." He broke into a grin but didn't pull her into an embrace. Considering the state of her, Ella didn't blame him, but when she smiled back, she saw that his eyes shifted to Éowyn. Ah. He wanted to impress her.
"I've been politely informed that my idea of permanently relocating my quarters to the east tower cannot be allowed on account of how filthy it is. Which is a shame, I should think."
"And yet, a sacrifice you must make, for the sake of all of us. I would wash at once, Ella, we have a dinner tonight."
"We have a dinner every night."
"No. Not like this. Prepare yourself, Cousin. We've invited the whole of the council and their families. Do you understand?"
Ella nodded, though she dreaded nothing more than going to any dinner that included the whole of the council. Small men who begged off fighting and their twitchy, bird-like wives who were never satisfied with any of the food, nor the temperature that anything was served at. "I appear to have come down with something, probably from all this dirt. A stomach bug, perhaps." She rolled her eyes, "A fever, probably."
"No, Ella. Not tonight." Faramir shook his head and made to take her hands. Again Ella moved away from him, loath to dirty his clothing. He took the hint and did not try again. "I know you would not really do that. We must be a united front tonight."
I will sew our clothes together then. But Ella did not say it. She only bowed her head and nodded, trying to keep her face neutral. "Of course. I will wash now cousin. I hope you'll excuse me."
Without actually waiting for leave, she made for her rooms. As she walked, she took deep breaths, feeling like there was never enough air. Please. She prayed with the desperation of those who were on their deathbeds. Bring them back to me. Bring them back. I cannot live like this. I cannot... I do not want to be alone like this. Please, bring the back to me. Bring them back.