Chapter 18
Minas Tirith
March 3018
Lothíriel rose with the dawn. It was not odd for the princess to be awake so early, but the servants in Minas Tirith clearly were not prepared. She had dressed herself in a simple maroon linen dress and fastened a warm hooded cloak about her shoulders before leaving the room. As she was exiting, her eyes were drawn to the white stone - it seemed to be staring at her. But ignoring it, she turned away. Surely her uncle would not be awake at such hours, nor really, most of the nobility living in Minas Tirith.
Closing the door quietly behind her, she walked silently past her father's and brothers' doors, careful not to wake them. Eventually she made her way to the breakfast table and the maids bustled around, nervous at the Princess's presence. After a few minutes a small tray was brought from the kitchens. On it, the typical heavy Gondorian breakfast that contained so much food she couldn't image anyone ever being able to finish it. She simply ate a single roll of bread and some fruit before sending the tray back so Cook could reuse the food to feed the rest of her family.
She was just about to leave the house when she heard movement behind her. Coming down the stairs was Amrothos, donned in healer's garb. The servants seemed to be prepared for his early arrival and didn't bring out the tray they had served Lothíriel but a roll of bread with cheese and a few slices of meat cleverly stuffed inside. He thanked the maid who handed it to him before he turned his gaze towards his sister.
"Good morning, little sister," he smiled and kissed her cheek fondly. "Where are you off to before the birds break into full song?"
"I thought to explore a bit before anyone woke. I'd like to see what the White City looks like when there aren't so many people about." Amrothos chuckled lightly at Lothíriel's words.
"As if there's so many people in Minas Tirith now?" He shook his head to himself before saying, "If your meeting with Théodred doesn't go well, you can always come and tell me. I'll be in the healing houses." He bid her farewell and she did the same, leaving the house at the same time as him, but going in a different direction.
She wandered throughout deserted streets that were so quiet it seemed that they might be graveyards rather than mansions for the wealthy and nobility. Eventually she reached the stables and strolled between the stalls. The Rohirrim's horses were stabled there and when she approached, they all turned their large, intelligent eyes in her direction. She went slowly towards them, speaking quietly in Sindarin, explaining who she was and that she was honored to be in their presence. They stared at her for a few more moments before looking away, bored.
She smiled to herself and stopped by a stall that housed a large stallion. He was the color of burnt wood with a single streak of white between his eyes. She greeted the mighty creature and picked up some dried slices of carrot that had been left by whoever met with the horses. At the sight of her possession of such a treasure, the stallion's ears pricked forward, paying close attention to Lothíriel's hands. Holding out two slices the horse wasted no time before relieving her of their weight.
"He likes you." The deep voice startled Lothíriel which caused her to drop the remaining slices from her other hand. She bent down to pick them from the ground and another pair of hands joined her. She looked up in amazement when she saw that it was Prince Théodred before her.
"My lord," she said, scrambling to stand but he halted her with a smile and raised hand.
"Do not be alarmed, I merely came to check on Brego." He indicated the horse Lothíriel had been feeding. "I was a bit surprised when I saw he was behaving for you without me present. Even in Rohan, I usually have to be the one to look after him or else one of the poor stable boys will be kicked or bitten." He stood, offering a hand to help Lothíriel to join him.
As she took it she turned her attention back to the horse. "He is very beautiful." Lothíriel's voice was so quiet that if they had not been alone in the stables, she doubted that Théodred would have ever heard it in the first place. She cleared her throat after a few more silent moments. "Aren't you and my Uncle planning to draw up the contract for our marriage?"
"Later this morning, but he seems to not be as early a riser as you and I. I figured I would have time to come here without ruining his schedule. Though, afterwards, I believe I should be on my way back to Rohan. While I'm sure it would be a pleasure to spend the afternoon riding with you, I believe that it would be best to not remain for much longer. Truly, I would have liked to stay and know you better before our wedding, but I'm sure we will get along fairly well."
Lothíriel smiled and nodded, "I'm sure that your people are proud to have a prince who puts his own needs after that of his people. I understand." Then, as a thought struck her, she continued. "What of the marriage contract, surely if cannot be written in a single morning?"
He shook his head. "Certainly not. I will make sure that Rohan's stipulations for the marriage are made clear and I will have to leave everything else up to your uncle. It is not ideal, but at least, after the ceremony, our friendship with Gondor will be strengthened and anything else we require may be requested without much fuss."
Lothíriel saw the sense in that statement and was about to continue when she heard footsteps passing beyond the doorway of the stables. She wondered how long she had been here and stepped away from the Rohirric Prince, her eyes anxiously looking to the door. "I probably should go, my father will be waking up soon and he'll be wondering where I am."
Théodred smiled slightly and before she could get further away, he caught her hand. "I hope that you will be well until I can return for you, my lady. Farewell," he bent over her hand and kissed the back of it lightly. She nodded her farewell and turned towards the exit.
Lothíriel picked up her skirts and hurriedly strode out of the stables and back to her home. The streets, though still fairly quiet, were no longer empty. Servants and a few soldiers walked up and down the roadways paying Lothíriel little attention. It wasn't long before she was back in the familiar townhouse. She could hear her father's voice speaking quietly in the dining room. Taking a route that went around the room, she made her way to her chamber.
Taking a seat, she let out a heavy sigh she had been withholding ever since exiting the stables. She had not expected to meet with anyone, let along the Crown Prince of Rohan, that morning, but she was not wholly disappointed at the events thus far. If Théodred was leaving that afternoon, she and her family could depart for Dol Amroth no later than the next morning. She was eager to be away from this city, away from her uncle who always seemed to look at her with a mixture of disdain and irritation. She was eager to put the circlet that made her so uncomfortable deep within a trunk, never to be seen again. But so long as she remained in this city, under the watch of the Steward, she would have to keep it out for its daily use.
A quick knock on the door pulled Lothíriel from her thoughts and she turned away from the cold, white stone. A solemn housemaid stepped through the doorway and surveyed Lothíriel for a moment, her mouth a single, unmoving line. Lothíriel watched as the young woman efficiently cleaned the room from the night's untidiness. After finishing her chores, she bowed to the princess and bid her a good morning. Just moments after exiting the room, the maid who had prepared her for the previous night's dinner, stepped into the room and bowed before the princess. She was more finely dressed than the housemaid as befitted her station. She spoke a quiet greeting to the princess before proceeding to prepare her for the day ahead.
After nearly an hour Lothíriel stood in a simple, pale blue dress that matched a clear winter's sky and her hair was a bit less formal as only the top bit was braided while the bottom hung down gracefully. She took a deep breath before the circlet was placed around her forehead, nearly gasping at the coldness of the white stone as it touched her skin. Lothíriel kept her mind mostly cleared in case she was bombarded with another unannounced vision. The only thought that seemed to never leave her was her desire to leave this city of cold white stones.
Denethor looked at Théodred with obvious disdain for a few moments before nodding to him. "I suppose then all I can wish you is a swift and safe journey. I will make sure that all of your conditions are met before you return to inspect the contract. Will you be keeping correspondence with Princess Lothíriel during your engagement?"
"I'm afraid that is out of the question," he sighed as he shook his head, "as I am mostly away from my home during these times." Théodred watched as the steward took a seat on his small, marbled, chair.
"Very well. You will return in a year to escort the princess to your country then?" Denethor's frown became more pronounced as Théodred shook his head again.
"It is not Rohirric custom for the groom to escort the bride to her husband's home. I will send men to escort her and your party as well, but I cannot be a part of the procession."
"Surely you can compromise, as it is Gondorian custom to do the very opposite. In fact, when we have a marriage here in the city, the groom escorts the bride from the bottom of the city all the way to the citadel to be bonded as one." Denethor began tapping his finger on the stone underneath his hand.
"Well," Théodred's calm voice held a hint of steel that proved he was not only a commander of men, but also the crown prince of Rohan, "considering that Princess Lothíriel will be marrying me in Rohan, and will then be considered to be one with not only the country but the people, as well as their future queen," he paused as the words hung in the air. "Then she should, and the rest of the Gondorian party thereafter, should follow Rohirric tradition." He cleared his throat and shifted slightly under the weight of his full armor. "Now, I believe it would be wise to depart currently before I lose much more of the morning." He nodded in the direction of the steward before turning away from the man. He caught the look of indignation on Denethor's face, but Théodred was certain that if he didn't prove his ability to hold his ground the conditions he had placed for the marriage contract would be there in name only, if that.
As he exited the two large doors that lead out to the courtyard with the dead, white tree he saw Lothíriel. She was no longer in the warm colors that reminded him of home but in a cold blue that recalled a feeling of ice to his mind. Beside her, Prince Imrahil kept his pace equal to her own. A strange, pained look, much like the one she had worn on her face the previous night, was etched around her eyes. He wondered what had made her change so drastically from how she was the morning before. When they had been alone in the stables she had seemed much more alive and warm. He wondered if it was because of the presence of her father, but he didn't feel that Imrahil was such a parent to abuse his position over his daughter.
"Good morning, Prince Théodred!" Imrahil called out upon seeing the Rohir. Théodred smiled and stepped forward to meet them on their path.
"Good morning, my lord and lady. I am just on my way to the stables to depart for Rohan. I am glad that we happened across each other. Would you mind accompanying me to the stables?" Smoothly he came to Lothíriel's side, opposite from Imrahil.
"Certainly," Imrahil's jovial voice echoed. "We are sad to hear that you will be departing so soon after settling matters over your marriage to my daughter."
Théodred nodded. "I am sad to have to depart so suddenly as well, but my country needs the protection I can provide. These are difficult and dark times and as such, my people need every last sword working towards their safety."
"While I am glad that Dol Amroth has been kept from most of the conflict aimed towards Gondor, I do not doubt the darkening of days is growing more and more. The enemies from the East seem to grow bolder after each passing day." Imrahil let out a quiet sigh.
"It seems Rohan and Gondor's enemies share that trait at least." They reached the doorway to the stables and Théodred led Lothíriel off to the side. When they were some feet away from Imrahil, Théodred bent over and kissed the back of Lothíriel's hand gently. "I am sorry that you and I won't have much a chance to get to know each other before our marriage ceremony, but do not forget my promise to you. Once we know each other, we will become good friends, I'm sure." He kissed the back of her hand again and stepped away, leaving her where she stood. Imrahil shook his hand soundly before bidding the prince farewell.
Lothíriel watched from the courtyard of the citadel as the Prince's party grew into tiny dots racing across the Pelennor Fields. She knew she had made her decision and couldn't go back on it now, but a strange feeling, like an itch just out of reach, grew on her. She ignored the feeling and focused ahead of Théodred's party on the distant horizon that lead towards Rohan. As the tiny silhouettes became specks she turned away and walked towards the throne room where her father had entered several minutes before. A few feet from the door, she stopped to the sound of shouting from inside. Before she could make the words out, the doors were pulled open and her father, storming out, nearly collided with her.
"Father," she had to pick up her skirts to keep up with his long strides, "what is the matter?" Imrahil stopped so suddenly that Lothíriel ended up taking two steps ahead of him and had to turn back simply to face him. His face was a mixture of anger and defeat.
"You are going to stay here in Minas Tirith with your Uncle until your marriage with Prince Théodred takes place." Lothíriel was so stunned she took a half step backwards.
"Surely not, I will be returning to Dol Amroth with you in a few days!" Panic at never escaping the deathly quiet walls of this city and everything it entailed for her rose quickly.
"I will be leaving with your brother's and Meira in the morning. I am sorry that it has to be this way daughter, but I'm sure it will turn out for the best." His tone didn't make her believe him for even a second as he continued walking at a slower pace. Lothíriel stood as she was and watched as the figure of her father passed out of view behind a building. It took all her strength to remain standing under the weight of what had been decided for her.
Slowly she took shaking, careful steps in the direction of her home. As she reached her door, it swung open and Meira was standing there. Without hesitation, Lothíriel's sister in law threw her arms around Lothíriel and whispered kind, soft words of encouragement. Lothíriel allowed it to wash over her as she memorized the feel and scent of the only sister she had ever known.
