Chapter 6
Edoras
Autumn 3009
The voice that spoke was feminine. Lothíriel peered around to see a young woman advancing towards them, leading a bored looking horse. The girl held her head high allowing her long blonde hair to cascade down her back. Confident grey eyes took in the three individuals who were standing in front of her and her lips drew back into a fine line. Without speaking she led her horse to the stall Éomer had previously instructed Lothíriel to vacate, making sure there was food and water available before turning back onto the now silent group on her heel.
Lothíriel felt strange as she looked at this young woman. It was as if she had met her before, though she knew she would clearly remember meeting someone as self-possessed and composed as this girl seemed to be.
With nothing more than a glance towards Lothíriel or Éomer the young woman pointed a long finger pointed towards Erchirion.
"I believe I asked you a question. What is wrong with my brother?" Her voice was soft when she spoke this time, nearly a whisper, but holding a thread of steel. Erchirion looked at her cooly. Lothíriel knew he tended to be shy around the ladies of their homeland but here he seemed more sure of himself. He stood tall and straight as the two exchanged glances.
"I was merely stating, that although there may have been a misunderstanding between us initially, it no longer impedes my judgement of Éomer."
The young woman dropped the finger she had been pointing at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "What misunderstanding is that? You have yet to answer my question." Lothíriel saw her brother's lips turn even further down as he answered her query.
"Your brother allowed his temper to get the better of him and yelled at my sister." The young woman turned her attention to Lothíriel and studied her for several moments. Lothíriel felt heat rising in her cheeks and timidly avoided her gaze. Out of the corner of Lothíriel's eye, she saw Erchirion smile smugly as the woman nodded and turned to her brother?
"And what possible reason did you have for yelling at a young girl?" Her voice was louder. Éomer ran his fingers through his long hair and averted his own gaze.
"Éowyn," his voice was low as he spoke her name. She sighed and shook her head, not allowing her brother to finish his thought.
"It doesn't matter. I heard your apologies, so nothing else can be done until the hurt is mended with time." She stooped slightly and came down to Lothíriel's eye level. Studiously ignoring the two men beside them she smiled at Lothíriel. "Welcome to Edoras. I am Éowyn."
Lothíriel relaxed slightly. "I am Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth." She tried to make her voice sound strong as she spoke, but couldn't hide the waver from it. "Thank you for your generous welcome." Éowyn's smiled widened as she stood tall once again and offered her arm to Lothíriel.
"Well at least one of you has some manners." Once Lothíriel had taken Éowyn's arm, she led the princess out of the stables. Walking so smoothly it could have been called gliding, they made their way to the stairs leading to the Golden Hall.
Éomer watched his sister in silence and smiled to himself. She had changed so much, yet at the same time, she hadn't changed at all. Just like their mother, she was obsessively protective of those who she felt could not defend themselves. After a few moments he turned to Erchirion who seemed surprised to have his sister commandeered. Clearing his throat, he motioned for Erchirion to proceed after both their sisters. The Prince nodded and walked on. A stablehand came towards the horses while Éomer petted Firestorm for a moment, quietly apologizing for not staying to take care of his mount himself. Turning on his heel, he strode towards the hall and as he began to climb the stairs he saw Éowyn and Lothíriel both walking through the big doors.
Once he entered the hall, he reveled in the familiar sights of Meduseld. Every carving and tapestry was just as he had remembered. This is where his heart belonged. This is where he felt truly at home. A few yards ahead Éowyn was waiting for him to join them. When he got closer he saw awe in Lothíriel and Erchirion's eyes. The princess reached out her a small hand and lightly touched one of the pillars to her right. Éowyn instructed the two Gondorians to walk behind them and both pairs of siblings moved towards the throne gracefully.
Éomer stopped several feet from the King while Éowyn took her place to the left of her uncle. Éomer bowed and when he straightened he spoke loudly and clearly enough to fill all of Meduseld with his voice. "Hail Théoden King, Lord and Master of the Riddermark!" He looked into his uncle's eyes and saw the warmth and kindness he had seen since childhood. Éomer stepped to the side, allowing his uncle to have a clear view of Lothíriel and Erchirion. "May I present Prince Erchirion and Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth?" When both of their names were called they stepped forward and bowed to the King as well.
"Welcome to the Riddermark my honored guests!" Théoden's jovial voice boomed throughout the hall. Stepping down he came towards Erchirion and Lothíriel. "Please rise and tell me of your journey. How have you found Rohan?" Erchirion opened his mouth to speak but didn't get the chance as Lothíriel's excited face lifted with a smile.
"It is so beautiful here!" Her voice was not that of a dutiful and perfect princess but that of an excited little girl. "All around me while we rode was the grass, and the way it waved reminded me so strongly of the Bay of Belfalas. Who would have ever thought of a place with so much green grass that you could make a sea of it?" Éomer noticed his uncle's look of approval at the young girl's description of the countryside, but she wasn't done. "And the wood work you have here in Edoras is something to truly revel in! So many delicate and intricate carvings! Gondor's stonework competes of course, but that was done by the Númenóreans. But this," she touched a nearby pillar, "this was done by a human wood-smith. It is truly extraordinary." Her last sentence was barely above a whisper.
Théoden chuckled softly and smiled at Lothíriel. "I am glad to see that my land has had such an effect on you, little princess." He turned to Erchirion. "And what do you think, Prince?"
"I now see why this country is called that of the Horselords. Your mastery and dedication to the creatures is unrivaled, Your Majesty." Erchirion's voice was clear as he addressed the King formally. Théoden's smile faded before turning back to Éomer.
"How were your travels?" Théoden no longer looked like he was as jovial as before but was focused as he watched Éomer's face.
"The mark has seen three orc attacks. One village was destroyed by fire during one of the attacks. The second was out on the plains where the breeders were camped. We lost three good horses to the scum. The final attack came during the night within our own camp on the first night the Gondorians joined us." Éomer's words were short and clipped as he reported the information. He saw the stoney look in Éowyn's eyes. Thinking back on how she had changed since both their parent's had died, he wasn't surprised to see her closing herself off from the memories and worry. Shifting his gaze back to his uncle's face, he saw the serious, quiet contemplation on his face before he nodded.
"This is grave news. Tonight I would like a more detailed report from both you and Marshal Elfhelm." Théoden turned back to the two Gondorians and smiled again. "For now, I will have Haróf show you to your chambers and then we will join each other for supper." He nodded again to Éomer and turned away.
Lothíriel sat on her bed and stretched. Her chamber was comfortable and spacious and the fire gave the room a warm glow. She had begun to go through the saddlebag that held her dresses when a quick rap sounded at her door. She smiled as the thought of her brother joining her before going to supper. Placing her bag on top of a chair she opened the door, surprised to see Éowyn standing outside.
"Hello," Éowyn walked through the doorway when Lothíriel moved to the side to make room. "Are you settling in alright?" She looked around and spotted the bag sitting on the chair. "May I?" Lothíriel nodded and took a seat on her bed again. Éowyn opened the bag carefully and pulled out a few dresses that were meant for warmer weather. She inspected them and after a few moments nodded her approval. "This material is very well made. Is it true that in the south the winters are fairly warmer?"
Lothíriel nodded as she stood up. "During the winter months in Dol Amroth it rains almost constantly. The sky and sea are gray and the wind is more mild and cool than the rest of the year."
Éowyn folded up the dresses and placed them back in Lothíriel's bag. "I would love to see what a winter without snow is like. You're so fortunate to be able to travel away from your home." Éowyn looked towards the fire and frowned. "I would love to travel but I must stay in Edoras by my Uncle's command." She cleared her throat softly and shook her head. "I am sitting here moping instead of accomplishing my goal."
Lothíriel's brow came together slightly, "What goal?"
"Tomorrow I would like to show you around Edoras. I would invite you to ride, but no doubt you would like to take a break from that." She smiled as she turned to face Lothíriel. Lothíriel returned the smile.
"I would love that." Lothíriel pulled her hair out from her braid and began to comb through it with her fingers. "I don't suppose I have enough time before supper to bathe, do I?"
"You have plenty of time. I will go and have someone draw you a bath. And since you didn't bring your maid, I will happily lend you mine for the evening." Éowyn's reached out and squeezed Lothíriel's shoulder encouragingly before turning and exiting the room.
"Thank you!" Lothíriel called out as the door closed behind her newfound friend. It was only minutes later when a tub was carried in with a group of maids carrying buckets of steaming water. After the tub had been filled, all of the maids left except for one who dipped quickly into a bow and spoke.
"I am Leifa, my lady. Lady Éowyn made it clear that you required my assistance." Lothíriel was surprised that she spoke Westron so well, though Lothíriel could hear Leifa's accent mirrored that of her homeland rather than someone born in Gondor. Lothíriel nodded and pulled off the tunic she had been wearing during the ride. The maid took the dusty clothing and neatly folded it before placing it on top of the saddlebag that was still residing on the chair. Without a word, Leifa offered her hand as Lothíriel stepped into the hot bath water. She sighed as the water warmed her body and soothed her sore muscles. Stretching out in the tub, she simply sat for nearly five minutes before looking back towards Leifa.
"Do you have anything to wash out my hair?" Lothíriel smiled shyly at the maid. Leifa nodded and returned the smile and stepped forward. Pulling soap out of a bag she had been carrying she placed the bag back down and walked over to Lothíriel.
"You have very beautiful hair." She commented as she began to clean her charge. Her voice was quiet as she spoke, almost as if she had not been speaking to Lothíriel but to herself.
Lothíriel thought back on the towns they had passed. "I noticed that not many people in Rohan have dark hair."
"The only other person I know who has such dark hair is Prince Théodred." Leifa's voice picked up a bit as she mentioned the Rohirric prince.
Lothíriel turned and looked at Leifa. "What is he like? I didn't see him when we arrived."
"The prince is a fine and handsome man. He is knowledgeable in both the field of battle and the history and stories of our people. He is both honorable and kind to everyone, no matter what their station is in life." Leifa was quickly getting louder as she continued to praise her prince. "He has won many battles and is currently in the west, guarding our borders. I – well I mean, Edoras – looks forward to his return." When she finished, Leifa blushed slightly and cleared her throat before adding much more quietly, "It's a pity you won't get to meet him while you are here."
"It is a pity. I would have loved to have met someone who is so greatly loved by his people." Lothíriel said before turning back around and laying her head into the water, rinsing the soap from it. Lothíriel began questioning Leifa about her homeland and tried to describe the sea when Leifa asked about it. After what felt like both hours and minutes, Lothíriel stepped out of the bath feeling completely rejuvenated. She pulled out the red dress she had brought with her and held it out for Leifa to see. The maid stepped forward, taking the garment and helped Lothíriel into it. Once she was dressed, Lothíriel fingered her wet hair. Turning to Leifa she asked, "How much longer do we have until supper?"
"Not much longer, I'm afraid. You'll have to pin up your hair, which is a shame given how lovely it is." Leifa began to run a brush through her hair, slowly taking out the tangles. When it was laying flat she quickly braided it elaborately atop Lothíriel's head. After tucking in the final strands she took a step back, a look of admiration on her face. "You look lovely, my lady."
Lothíriel looked at the small mirror in front of her and smiled to Leifa. "Thank you. It looks beautiful." Just as she stood, there was a knock at the door. Leifa rushed to it and when opened Erchirion came striding in.
"Good, you're ready. We should go to the great hall before we're late." Erchirion offered Lothíriel his arm as he spoke. She took it and walked quickly beside him. She watched him glance around and mutter something under his breath. She was just about to inquire as to what he had said when they came upon Éowyn and her brother. She pinched her brother's arm and he turned his attention forward and smiled coolly towards the two. Lothíriel's smile was more genuine. She let go of Erchirion's arm and rushed forward towards Éowyn. They walked together towards the table and took up seats next to each other.
Éomer watched his sister and Lothíriel talking and laughing together and smiled. He wasn't surprised they had found companionship in each other as they both seemed like lonely souls who desired love and friendship. Ever since they had met, he had seen a warmth and light in Éowyn that hadn't been there since before their parents' deaths. He desperately wished that he could have been around for his little sister more, to help her keep her laughter and light from dying, but his homeland – his family – needed to be protected. And he wasn't going to leave that up to someone else when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. Shaking his head slightly he cast away the dark thoughts of the enemies that his people needed protection from and stepped forward into the conversation around him.
"Your sister seems happy." His uncle's voice was quiet so as not to be heard by Éowyn. He sighed before clapping him on the shoulder and leading him to a seat next to his own. "Tell me more of your journey. How are the people? And what do you think of our guests?"
Éomer leaned back in his chair and picked up a cup of mead and drank it before answering. "The countryside is well. The harvest is near completion and there have been very few raids on their granaries. About the Gondorians," he looked at Lothíriel where she sat for a moment before paying attention to her brother. Turning back to his uncle he finished, "the young princess is but a child and sees the world as such. While we were coming here she collapsed while grooming her horse but it only happened once to my knowledge."
"She groomed her own horse?" Théoden's face did not mask his surprise before changing to a look of pleasure. His eyes took in Lothíriel and spoke almost in a whisper, "She does seem to be very comfortable in Rohan, and everyone she meets likes her." He cleared his throat and stroked his beard before speaking up again. "And what of the prince?"
Éomer scoffed lightly, "He is stubborn and naïve. He seems to think all the answers in the world can be found from the pages of a book. He is smart in a scholarly way but in the way of the world and battle he is more of a child than his sister." He noted a look of amusement in his uncle's face. "When our camp was attacked he ran back to his tent for books. I could understand if it was his sister, but she was safe already."
The king looked towards Erchirion before commenting, "Your mother was the same way. Her mother brought so many wonderful books with both stories and histories with her from Gondor and Théodwyn would sit in the library for days learning about the world. It wasn't until she met your father that she began to spend more time outside than with her nose in a book."
The two sat in silence for the rest of their meal. Éomer watched his sister with a smile as she laughed about things Lothíriel said. After finishing the meal, the two girls lazily strolled through the corridors towards their chambers for the evening. Satisfied that his sister had retired he stood and made his way towards his own chamber. The next day would be one of rest for him and his fellow horsemen. Most of them would be spending time with their loved ones in Edoras but he was not one for lounging about. As early as the sun rose he knew he would be out at the practice field training the newest recruits. Feeling satisfied after a long day and good meal, he laid his head down on his pillow and closed his eyes allowing sweet dreams of laughing children invade his mind.
