Chapter 16

Edoras

December 3017

Théodred sat in Meduseld's library, absorbing the quiet. All around him, the smell of old parchment and leather collided into what he imagined peacefulness to smell like. He like peace, longed for it, but he had a feeling that he would never be able to have any except for in fleeting moments like this. It would be Yule very soon and right after that he had to depart. First he would head west to continue in guarding his lands, and when the spring came, onto Gondor.

It had only been by chance that he had received the letter before Gríma had been able to get his slippery hands on the thing. He knew, before his illness had taken over, his father had been in talks with the current Steward of Gondor on negotiating a marriage. Théodred had only just found out that the marriage being negotiated was his own. The feeling that it had been kept from him infuriated him for a moment before he calmed himself with the logical answer. His father most likely wished to make sure everything would go well before notifying his son. The only person to blame for his ignorance thus far was Gríma Wormtongue.

After reading the details in the letter, Théodred agreed with Lord Denethor's plan. He would go to Gondor when the princess was in Minas Tirith and the two would meet. So long as the princess did not have any objections to the Rohirric Prince, the two would proceed with plans towards marriage. And it was not as if he had anyone else in mind to take the title of wife. Théodred didn't like the idea of marriage when Gríma was still lurking around Edoras, but perhaps he could settle his new wife in the Hornburg. Then he would also be able to see her more while doing his duty in the West and all the while she would be out of reach of Gríma Wormtongue.

He nodded to himself and began to make plans. Was he anticipating marriage? He was nearly forty years old and it would do well to have heirs to follow after him. He nodded to himself again. Perhaps it would do him well to have a wife and children to worry over him. He was cut off from his thoughts when he heard someone enter. He turned his gaze and saw Éomer standing in the doorway.

"Now, how did I know I would find you trapped in here, cousin?" Éomer stepped forward and met Théodred in a quick embrace. The two men stood apart and studied each other as was their custom. "I see you have a new scar. Who got past your guard?"

Théodred touched the white line on his neck that had healed nearly a year ago. "A dunlending who seemed especially thirsty for my blood." He chuckled lightly before patting Éomer's shoulder. "I have heard that you are not unscathed yourself."

Éomer nodded. "Indeed, this wound on my leg was particularly troublesome. An orc stabbed me during an ambush and I didn't know until it had already been stitched up that there he had coated the steel in black water. But now it is on the mend finally. Perhaps we're not as invulnerable as we had thought we were as children." Éomer's last sentence brought back the thought of Théodred's possible children and he couldn't help his smile. "How goes the West-Mark?"

"It's as well as it could be, though I am as anxious to return, as I am for the battles to all be over and done with so I don't have to return as often." Éomer's somber expression gave way and nodded silently. Théodred was about to continue when a noise caused both men to look directly in front of them and saw Éowyn running towards the two with her arms outstretched.

"Éomer! Théodred! I only just returned from my ride, and heard you were here!" Éowyn's cheeks were red from the cool air outside and her hair was in tangles. She was wearing her typical leather riding clothes and gloves that showed the colors of dry earth. She stood and looked behind her where her maid was following quietly. "I must bathe before the celebrations for Yule begin, but I look forward to claiming a dance with both of you tonight." She smiled gleefully before retreating back towards her chamber where most likely a bath was already waiting.

Éomer clapped his hand over Théodred's shoulder before declaring, "I believe I should follow suit. It would not do well to have me smelling of horse, leather and sweat during Yule. I believe Éowyn would have my head." Théodred watched Éomer followed the same path as his sister only stopping to order a bath from a nearby servant. The two siblings were so alike that Théodred couldn't help smiling to himself before returning to the peaceful library for a few more minutes of solitude.


Dol Amroth

January 3018

Lothíriel stared down at the sleeping baby. His delivery had been difficult but once he was born, Lothíriel could see that everything she had seen in her vision as a child was true. It was the first time she had ever seen one of her visions come to pass and she had to admit that the experience was strange to say the least. He'd had an exciting day for his first birthday. A ball would be held in his honor even though he wouldn't be there to see it this year. She turned her gaze to Meira who stood beside Lothíriel and smiled. After they exited the nursery and quietly shut the door, Lothíriel held out a soft square of blue fabric to her sister in law.

"I know it passed several days ago but I wanted to give you this as your Yule present before going into the celebrations." Meira took the fabric and Lothíriel watched her study it. Lothíriel had spent nearly a month making the silk handkerchief with Meira's favorite flower, a white iris, embroidered into each corner.

"Oh Lothíriel!" Meira gasped, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "It's so beautiful. And the details!" She reached out and the two hugged each other.

"You mustn't cry. It wouldn't be well to have us both entering the hall with red-rimmed eyes." She kissed her sister's cheek. "Come, we mustn't delay much longer. Father and Elphir must be wondering what's keeping us." Lothíriel led Meira down the corridor and the two arrived before the entrance quickly. Through the closed door music and jovial conversation could be heard. After nodding to the man standing guard, the door was opened.

Lothíriel felt the eyes of most of the people fall upon her, but after so many balls, she was used to it. She took her place besides her father while Meira stood beside Elphir. He reached over, taking his wife's hand before pulling her to the dance floor. Lothíriel smiled to herself as she watched them staring up into each other's eyes lovingly.

"I suppose it would be foolish of me to wish to have a love like that in my marriage." She sighed under her breath. She had thought her father would not have heard her mutterings but he raised his eyebrows.

"That is the very reason for the balls, so that you might find someone of your liking before departing for Minas Tirith." Her father's words triggered Lothíriel's expression to become hard and solemn as she recalled her father finally explaining what was awaiting her in Minas Tirith. She remembered the bitter tears and Erchirion's angry shouting. The only thing that had soothed him was Amrothos and Elphir's explanations that they could not fight their uncle's decrees. Even then, Erchirion had declared he would find some way to fight against, in his words, 'a mere steward's rule.' Tonight he had joined the festivities but he had dark circles under his eyes from the late nights and early mornings of research. It had been months and he had still found nothing. Lothíriel had eventually come to the same conclusion her father had. She needed to find someone who she at least liked that she could see any future with.

She'd had very little luck with that. Her suitors each had something about them that made Lothíriel feel they were not suitable. One of them spent the each conversation with her by simply complimenting her without any kind of intelligent conversation, while on the other hand, one man was so full of himself he had declared that she needed to go through a few changes to deserve him, but he was willing to help her so that they could have a happy marriage. Each time, she found something, and once it was pinpointed, it never really went away. A series of thoughtless comments on Lothíriel's inferiority as a woman, never speaking, always speaking, acting too superior, acting on false humility. There was always something.

She spent the night dancing, pinpointing these traits over and over again. It had become a sort of game to her and she wondered if she would ever grow to like anyone if she didn't stop playing. Eventually, as was fairly common, people stopped asking her to dance. Women gossiped about her even while in earshot. She was called all sorts of names: cold, heartless, impolite, fake. Lothíriel left the hall for the gardens and retreated within the hedge maze she had memorized as a child. Sitting on a bench in the middle, she finally let the tears fall down her cheeks.

She hated herself for crying, but she couldn't stop them anymore, not when the eyes were finally off her. She smiled at the irony. When she had left, the townspeople had seemed to hate her and she had created a stoney façade for them, but now that she had grown up with the elves and their kindness, it had faded and she had no defense against gossiping lips and hateful eyes. She heard footsteps approaching her through the maze and Lothíriel wiped the tears from her cheeks and sat up straighter. When she saw who rounded the corner she sighed and allowed her shoulders to fall forward again.

"I knew you would retreat to this spot. You always did as a little girl." Meira's calm face was too much for Lothíriel and she let out a sob and covered her face in her hands and she cried anew. Lothíriel didn't know how long she had cried, but Meira remained by her side, gently rubbing her back and saying soothing words under her breath. Eventually Lothíriel collected herself and Meira held forth the very handkerchief that had been presented to her only hours before.

"Who knew that you'd have to use it so soon." Lothíriel commented ironically. She wiped her tear stained face gently before handing the fabric back to Meira. "I'm sorry if I ruined it. I could make you another one if you'd like." Meira responded by taking the fabric and holding it to her chest.

"Any gifts you give to me I will cherish forever, but this is a wonderful gift." Meira smiled and wiped another tear that had fallen onto her cheek. "You know," she started in the tone that she normally used when she was trying to convince Elphir of a logical point he was ignoring, "have you considered that you might actually like this Prince Théodred? I know that we have heard very little about him, but you never know, he might end up being the man for you."

Lothíriel shrugged, "I remember a maid in Rohan speaking of him fondly but not the exact praises." Meira smiled encouragingly.

"See," she began, "that's something. And you did mention that you had grown to like Rohan during your travels and studies. Perhaps you were drawn to the country for a reason."

"Perhaps," Lothíriel echoed to herself quietly.

"But for now, you should go to your chamber. We can go through the servant's stairs so no one disturbs us." Lothíriel nodded at Meira's suggestion and followed the lovely woman.


Dol Amroth

March 3018

Lothíriel looked down at the trunk that now had a few months worth of clothes, jewelry and other items she had not wanted to part with even for a little while. In her hands she held the one piece of jewelry that she had never wanted to wear again. It was the circlet with the cold white stone. She stared at it for a long while before placing it gently atop the trunk. She forced herself to look away leave the chamber. Ever since she had worn it the first time several years ago, whenever she looked at it, she got the feeling she was not the only one in the room, like someone was looking at her with it. The thought always made her shiver.

And now she would have to wear it constantly while in Minas Tirith. Or perhaps not. She wondered if it would be possible to convince her Uncle that she had learned to control her gift enough to not need the circlet. A small spark of hope enlightened within her as she began to step down the corridor more confidently. By the time she made it to the ship, she was actually looking forward to seeing Minas Tirith and her Uncle again.

The ship that would carry them up the Anduin was a much smaller vessel than the one that had brought her home from the Greyflood. It was to be expected as the Anduin'w waters were much gentler than the open seas. She knew that most of her family would be joining her on this excursion except for Erchirion.

Looking out, she saw Elphir carrying Alphos and talking to him with a smile. To his side was Meira, who was in the midst of laughter when she spotted Lothíriel. She gave a small wave before turning back to her husband and son. Lothíriel turned away again, a strange feeling in her heart. She tried to place it but couldn't think of why it hurt to look at her brother and sister in law so happy. The words she had said during the last ball in January came back to her from the back of her mind. 'I suppose it would be foolish of me to wish to have a love like that in my marriage.' She was stunned when it hit her. She was jealous of their happiness and the deep love and connection they shared.

After that ball, she had confronted her father with the fact that she had resigned herself to marrying the Crown Prince of Rohan, and would most likely close the door to a marriage based on love. She consoled both herself and her father with the fact that she remembered most of the news concerning the Prince that came from either the Rohirrim when she had traveled through Rohan as a child or from her Uncle Denethor himself, was full of praise. After hearing the news, her father had canceled the last ball that would have been her final chance before going to Minas Tirith where the certainty of a royal engagement awaited her.


Minas Tirith

March 3018

Théodred looked into the face of the Steward who had so meticulously arranged his marriage with the Princess who would be arriving in the White City within the week. He seemed to be very old, but his eyes were still fully alive and filled with a cunning ambition that made Théodred feel very ill at ease. The two continued to trade looks for a long while, the heavy silence filling the cold, stone room. Finally, the Steward of Gondor opened his mouth.

"How good it is for you to have made it, Prince Théodred!" His voice was cheerful, but behind it a tone of iron. "I have anticipated this visit for some time now, and look forward to our increased relations after your union with my niece."

"Indeed," Théodred's voice was calm, belying his unease. "I look forward to Gondor and Rohan reuniting under a banner of friendship and camaraderie. I unfortunately, cannot stay for very long after meeting the princess as my lands still need to be protected." A strange look crossed Denethor's face before it was overcome by one of understanding and compassion.

"Certainly, my lord, for I have come to know that the land of the Horselords has been faced with many difficulties as of late. I can only hope that you look after our dear Princess Lothíriel with the same tenacity that you show your country." Théoden felt himself bristle at the Steward's inclination.

"I can assure you, Lord Denethor, if she should accept the role as my wife and future queen of Rohan, then she will want for nothing as far as I can give." He focused on the stone chair that the steward was sitting on.

Denethor was about to continue speaking when the door opened. Théodred turned to see who had entered and spotted a young man, garbed in the silver armor of a Gondorian soldier. The soldier waited for some indication that he could speak and when he did, he bowed deeply in the direction of the two men.

"My lords," his voice was deep but still held some of the tones of a boy, "Lord Boromir has called me to report that the ship from Dol Amroth has arrived. He went to escort them into the city and they should be ready to present themselves to you this evening."

"Excellent!" Denethor's voice echoed through the hall for a moment. "It seems that luck is on our side this day as you will have the chance to meet Princess Lothíriel later this eve. I will have a servant show you to your quarters where you can rest and clean yourself if you wish." He gave a shaded smile before exiting to whatever task he felt needed doing. Within a minute, a young boy approached and led him through the maze of corridors to his chambers. Théodred thanked the boy before sending him on his way and turning to look out the window at the distant silhouettes of a small party riding across the Pelennor Fields.