Chapter 7

Edoras

Autumn 3009

The noon sun shone down where Lothíriel stood and although the light of it spread over her body, the heat that would normally accompany it was absent. Even though it was only the beginning of the cooler season, the air was more chilled and brisk than it was back in Dol Amroth. Taking a full breath she looked towards Éowyn. The two girls had spent a busy morning exploring the city. Lothíriel reveled in the company of the Rohirric children as they all played together. She found Éowyn sitting on the steps leading up to Meduseld and began to approach, smiling all the while.

"You look positively radiant!" Éowyn's voice was jovial. She stood as Lothíriel came closer and began to slowly trail up the steps. "It's nearly time for the noon meal." Lothíriel greeted this information with a rumble of her stomach making both the girls chuckle. They were still smiling to each other when Éomer walked up from behind them.

"I see you two are enjoying yourselves." He pulled Éowyn into a brief hug from the side before letting her go and turning his face towards the Golden Hall. "Did Uncle mention wanting to speak to me?"

Éowyn frowned slightly and shook her head. "I've barely seen Uncle all day, I've spent the morning with Lothíriel." She looked up at her brother quizzically. "Why?"

"I was summoned from the training fields. I was told Uncle wants to speak to me urgently." Éomer's face was a mask of indifference, but Lothíriel could see a glint of unease within his eyes, though she thought better than to comment on it.

"Well, we'd best not keep him waiting." Éowyn grabbed Lothíriel's arm and hooked it through her own and began to boldly and quickly advance up the steps. Éomer stepped in front of them but kept up a pace the two girls could maintain. When they entered the hall, Marshal Elfhelm greeted Éomer with a sharp pat on the shoulder and a nod to Éowyn and Lothíriel. Éomer continued his approach towards the throne while Éowyn guided Lothíriel to the side where they could watch without being in the way.

"Éomer, it is good you are here." Théoden King stood as he saw his nephew and held his arms open. Éomer stepped into his Uncle's embrace for a moment before stepping back and bowing deeply.

"You summoned me, my King?" He did not straighten until the King gestured for him to rise up. When he opened his mouth this time he spoke clearly and the rest of the hall fell into silence.

"I have watched you grow from a boy to a man ever since you came to live here after my sister's death. You have not only become a fine man but a rider that your father would be proud of." Lothíriel saw pride in his eyes as the King continued. "You are a smart and strong rider who puts nothing before the good of our country, even your own life. It is because of this that I have decided that you are ready to take the next step as a rider." He turned around and picked up something before turning back. In his hands was a helmet that had on it's top a white horsetail. Lothíriel bit back a gasp as she recognized it from her vision. "Éomer, son of Éomund, kneel." She watched as the helmet approached Éomer's head. The look of pride and joy in both Éomer and Éowyn's faces kept Lothíriel rooted to her spot next to Éowyn, her eyes wide. When the helmet was in place Éomer stood and Théoden declared finally, "You are now Third Marshal of Rohan, Master of Aldburg!"

A great cheer sounded which seemed to make the whole building shudder. Many people, men and women alike, came up to Éomer with words of congratulation and slaps on the shoulders and back. Lothíriel didn't move even when Éowyn swept past her and ran towards her brother, embracing him excitedly. Lothíriel tried to breath evenly as she remembered the vision of the orcs tumbling over each other as they attacked the horses. The pain from being stabbed in the leg seemed to blossom within her memory. She was focusing so fully on maintaining her composure that the sudden presence of Erchirion beside her caused her to jump, letting out the gasp she had been holding in.

"What is the matter?" Erchirion's voice was quiet as he placed a hand on her shoulder softly.

Lothíriel pointed to where Éomer stood. "I've seen him before."

Erchirion's face looked confused. "Well, of course you've seen him before. He escorted us here." Lothíriel shook her head.

"No, I've seen him!" She saw understanding come through Erchirion's eyes and he nodded.

"How do you know you saw him specifically?" Erchirion watched Éomer and the people gathered around him.

"His helmet. I saw it in his hands after an attack. He was hurt in his leg." She watched as Erchirion nodded and turned her attention back to Éomer. She wondered, not for the first time, if she should reveal her gift to their hosts. Before she had simply kept from telling him because she did not know who it affected, but now she knew, without a doubt. She nodded and began to step forward when her brother grabbed hold of her shoulder. She turned to him and watched as he shook his head. Shaking off his hand she lifted her chin stubbornly and carefully walked towards where Éomer was standing. But before she took more than a few steps, the King led him away.


Éowyn had never been so proud of her brother as she was this day. She had always known he would be bound for a position of leadership, but to be given the command of Marshal at only nineteen was something she had never heard of before. Her happiness was bittersweet as she realized that with his new position of power he would be away from Edoras more, much like their cousin Théodred was.

She shook her head lightly, casting away the sad thoughts and looked around at the other people there. Standing off to one side with a strange look on her face was Lothíriel. Éowyn wandered over towards her, stopping every now and again when one of the men or women stopped her to offer their congratulations to her for her brother. After a few minutes, Éowyn was at Lothíriel's side. The girl was still staring at the door Éomer and the King had walked through with a focused look. Éowyn gently reached over and touched Lothíriel's shoulder, startling her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Is everything alright?" With some effort, Lothíriel took her eyes off of the door and looked at Éowyn's face.

"I'm fine. I just," she paused, considering her words for a few seconds, "wanted to congratulate your brother." Éowyn smiled at Lothíriel.

"When I see my brother next, I will tell him. But for now, we still have our meal to attend to and the rest of the day to spend. You are leaving tomorrow and there is still something here that you need to see." Lothíriel returned Éowyn's smile and nodded. Éowyn peered towards the tables and saw they were getting more and more crowded. She gestured towards the door of Meduseld. "Go wait for me outside, I'll be right out with some food." With that she turned and made her way towards the kitchens.

As she entered the busy area, the strong smells of herbs, meat and bread filled the air. Finding a basket that would fit her needs, Éowyn began filling it with colorful fruits and slices of bread. Coming towards the meats she saw chicken. Satisfied that she had a proper Rohirric meal for Lothíriel to eat she confidently walked out of the kitchen with her basket in hand. As she passed by many riders she greeted them cordially.

Right before she exited the hall, she was stopped by Gríma, one of her uncle's lesser advisors. When she saw who it was she smiled politely. Unlike many of his fellow countrymen he tended to dress in very dark colors and his hair was dark as well. His skin was pale and clammy like that of someone who often suffered a malady. She didn't know why, but whenever he was around she felt a strange pit in her stomach. She brushed off the hand he had placed on her arm before slightly turning away from him.

"Good day, Gríma, I'm afraid I don't have much time to speak with you as Princess Lothíriel is awaiting me outside." She side-stepped quickly and avoided his grasp as he reached for her again. She nodded to him with the smile still plastered on her face before rushing out of the door.


Lothíriel took a seat on one of the steps leading up to Meduseld to wait for Éowyn. A gentle breeze caused her hair to flow around her, leading her to think of how it would fan out underwater whenever she went swimming. The pang of homesickness pulled at her in the quiet moment and she thought back to her favorite spots along the beach and in the woods of Dol Amroth. Several men all dressed in their armor passed by her but she paid them no mind. She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize someone had come closer to her until they spoke.

"You are missing your home. I can tell; I have worn that look myself several times." The deep voice was one Lothíriel recognized immediately. She stood and looked up at Éomer who was wearing the same armor he had been wearing during their ride throughout Rohan, the only change to it was that the helmet he held underneath his arm was the same horsetail helmet he had received from the King not even an hour before.

"You're leaving," although it wasn't a question he nodded.

"As Third Marshal, I have been given reign over Aldburg, my family home, as well as guardianship of the East-Mark. There are many threats that would like nothing more than to destroy and oppress the people there and it is my duty and honor to defend them. Marshal Elfhelm will be continuing as your escort on your journey. I wish you the best." He nodded and before Lothíriel could even get a word out he was halfway to the stables. She sank back down onto the step and watched him.

After a few minutes Éowyn joined her and Lothíriel told her of her brother's departure. A sad look crossed Éowyn's face as she nodded and began down the steps. At the entrance of the stables she handed Lothíriel the basket of food and entered. Lothíriel watched as the siblings embraced each other tightly, speaking quietly in Rohirric. After some time they let go of each other and Éomer kissed his sister's head before placing his helmet on his own and mounting Firestorm. Lothíriel stepped to the side of the entrance to make way as Éomer and Firestorm flew past, followed by his new éored. Éowyn came up to Lothíriel after the stables had been emptied and wiped a single tear off her cheek.

"I hate it whenever he goes. I don't have much family left and I can't imagine losing my brother too." She cleared her throat and took the basket from Lothíriel's hands. She led Lothíriel through Edoras until they reached a garden that was overgrown with weeds. Lothíriel touched the leaves of a long dead flower. As Éowyn began to set out the food onto a blanket she spoke quietly. "This was my grandmother's garden. What I've been told by my Uncle is that she was from Gondor and brought many of the flowers from her homeland with her. After she died this place fell into disrepair. I've tried to revive it, but I haven't had any luck. So," she finished setting out the food and stood, admiring her work. "I hide here from everyone else and imagine what it would look like if it was alive again."

"I recognize some of these flowers from the gardens of Dol Amroth. This one," she pointed to a brown, wilted flower, "would have been either a bright blue or red with long petals that would have flowed outward like the bottom of a dress." She described each of the flowers in detail to Éowyn as they walked through the garden. When she finished they had arrived back at the blanket with the food ready to be eaten.

"The things from Gondor sound very beautiful. Do you miss it very much?" Éowyn took a seat on the blanket. Lothíriel sat with her and took a red apple and looked at it for a few moments.

"There are so many things that I miss. The salty air is always around you. I miss walking along the tide in my bare feet and feeling the surf tickling my toes. I miss my family. I find myself wondering what my brothers are doing now." Lothíriel felt tears spring up in her eyes. Before even a drop could fall onto her cheeks, she blinked them away and took a deep breath as she bit into the apple she was holding. Éowyn looked at the ground remaining silent for only a few moments.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about Gondor if it bothers you." Lothíriel shook her head vigorously.

"It doesn't bother me to talk of my home. I just miss it, just as you would miss Rohan if you were away from it. This place is new and exciting for me, but my family is back in Gondor." Lothíriel cleared her throat before continuing. "Tell me more about Rohan, please." Éowyn met Lothíriel's eyes and nodded. She began reciting stories of warriors, both men and women, who had proudly fought for their country against wild men and orcs alike. Each time she described one of the shieldmaidens, Éowyn's face would brighten with excitement. Occasionally she would stand and act out some of the fights only to fall to her knees dramatically at the finale declaring her undying devotion to some lost love. She continued on and on from one subject to another that both girls hardly noticed the sun beginning to set in the distance.

"-and Uncle says that I am to learn the art of swordplay and marksmanship!" Éowyn was so immersed as she expressed her joy at the next topic that she jumped when the presence of one of the King's guards appeared before them.

"I apologize for interrupting my ladies," he bowed deeply before them, "but your Uncle wishes for you to join him before the evening meal." At the guard's words Éowyn and Lothíriel turned in shock and looked at the orange horizon before breaking out into giggles. Éowyn stood and nodded to the guard before collecting each of the items that were still sitting on the ground. Lothíriel bent to help and in only a few minutes the area was cleared and the items were put away in the basket. They giggled again as they walked towards Meduseld but stifled them before entering the hall.


Lothíriel sprawled out onto her bed, her stomach full and her eyes heavy from a long, but very pleasant day spent with a friend. She felt a smile spread across her lips as she thought about the fact that she finally had a friend. Sitting up she looked around the room and sighed, her smile fading slowly. She would miss this place. Although she could tell – by the empty places where she would have placed the odd knick-knack or treasure – this was not her home, and although she did miss her home greatly, she felt more at home and at peace here than she had in Dol Amroth and certainly Minas Tirith. Pulling her knees to her chest, she hid her face from the light and wept bitterly.

The sound of a soft knock filled the room for a moment. Wiping away the tears, Lothíriel opened the door and saw Erchirion standing quietly. When he saw Lothíriel's red eyes and expression he entered the room swiftly and closed the door before pulling her into his embrace. She sobbed into her brother's shirt while he ran his hands through her hair, whispering quiet encouragements all the while. When she finally finished she looked up into his compassionate eyes.

"I hate that Father sent me away." Erchirion's face changed for a moment to slight disbelief before leading her over to one of the two chairs set beside the fireplace.

"It was for your good and safety." His voice was somber and quiet. His thumb wiped a single tear away from her cheek before continuing. "And it won't be forever. Think of this as a long vacation where you get to make new friends and see new, wondrous places." He smiled slightly, "I'll bet even Elphir and Amrothos couldn't begin to dream about the beautiful places and different people we've seen already in these past days." Lothíriel nodded feeling a small smile play on her lips.

"You and I are the dreamers in our family." She chuckled lightly and Erchirion returned the smile before laughing quietly.

"Now," he pulled out a book from his pocket, "shall I read you a story?" Lothíriel nodded and curled up in the chair she was occupying as her brother began. "In the land across the sea was a fair elf lady…"