Chapter 23

Minas Tirith

April 3019

Lothíriel moved down the quiet streets, unheard and unnoticed by the few nobles and guards who were awake before the morning sun. She pulled her cloak tighter to keep out the pre-morning chill as she neared the stables. When she entered, she saw that, aside from the horses, it was empty, as usual. When she had been living under her uncle's rule, she would sneak out in a similar fashion whenever she'd had trouble sleeping. The same problem had occurred the previous night. The night that she had met with Éomer, King of Rohan.

In the flickering torchlight, Lothíriel spotted a new, but familiar face among the horses. At first she thought it was a coincidence, but as she approached the great creature, she knew. This was Brego, the horse that had belonged to Théodred. The same one she had met no more than a year before, when she had been made to agree to wed the future king of Rohan.

Lothíriel brought out some of the pieces of dried carrots and apples and the horse looked at her in anticipation. After consuming the treats, he nuzzled her hand gently, asking for more. "I'm afraid I don't want to give you more than your share. There are other's here who wouldn't get anything if you were to eat any more." Brego sniffed at her words and watched her intelligently. "I bet you didn't think you'd be back in the city after what happened to your previous master." She stroked down his nose gently. "Although, I am glad to see that you've found a new one."

"That would be Aragorn." Lothíriel turned around suddenly. She had recognized the deep voice almost instantly. Éomer was leaning against one of the pillars that jutted out from between the stalls of other horses.

"Has anyone told you that you need to announce yourself more?" Lothíriel stepped away from Brego and more to the center of the stables. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the very same thing." A crooked smile pulled at his lips. "I'm surprised that you know that horse. It belonged to my cousin before his death." From the look in his eyes, she knew he was watching her every move. "Though the news of his demise is nothing new to you, is it?"

Lothíriel bit her lower lip before nodding. "I met him when he visited this city a year ago." She was about to explain how she knew Théodred more when a group of stable hands and Rohirrim entered, drawing both her and Éomer's attention away. As she peered through the doors, she noticed how much the sun had risen and decided it would be best to return home before she was missed by her father. She began to bid Éomer farewell, but he was distracted by the riders who were all speaking to him in their native tongue. So, without a word, she slipped out of the stables and hastily made her way back to her home.


Éowyn stood in the guest quarters and looked in amazement at the closet full of dresses. She had wondered at what she would wear once she had left the House of Healing since the only clothes she had brought with her was her armor. But now, over ten dresses in varying colors and hues hung there, ready for her inspection. When a quick knock sounded at the door, she bid the visitor to enter. As the door opened, she saw the familiar image of her brother.

"Éomer!" She leapt into a tight embrace. He returned it, but more gently. "I am not some fragile doll that will break when I am held brother." She leaned up and kissed his cheek before letting go. "And how can I thank you for an entire new wardrobe?"

Éomer looked in surprise towards Éowyn's wardrobe. "You shouldn't thank me, for I had nothing to do with it. Perhaps it was Aragorn." He studied the rest of the room which was decorated in varying hues of white and green. "I'm glad to see that you are settling in well. Aragorn told me that if anything isn't to your liking, he will make sure that is remedied."

"I don't see anything to complain about." She smiled. "I didn't see you after your dinner at the Dol Amroth house. How did you enjoy your visit? Did you see Lothíriel? She's changed so, hasn't she?"

Éomer nodded and turned his face to gaze out the window. "Yes, she has." His voice indicated that he was distracted and Éowyn wondered at what had occurred, but from what she could see in his eyes, she knew he wouldn't share it until he was ready.

"Well," she cleared her voice, drawing back Éomer's attention, "Do you suppose it's safe enough to ride Windfola? I know it's only been a week since the Pelennor Fields were cleared of all the dead orcs and such, but it's been such a long time since I've been able to feel the wind against my skin."

"So long as you do not travel without an escort, I trust you to be safe." Éomer squeezed Éowyn's hand and she let out a joyous yell before embracing her brother again. "Just make sure to stay away from the woods until Aragorn and his rangers declare that it is indeed safe." He kissed the top of her head. "I cannot stay for long. Aragorn has called a meeting and I just came to see you settled. If you have need, send for me." He stepped away and exited the room.

"Be sure to thank Aragorn for me!" She shouted after him, the only response was her brother's laughter.


As Éomer walked down the halls, servants and nobles alike bowed to him. It was still something that made him slightly uncomfortable. All his life he had expected to be nothing more than a Marshal and Rider of Rohan, but now, here he stood, Lord and Master of the Mark. His mind drew back to the previous evening when he had met with Lothíriel in the garden. She had so easily agreed to regard him not as a king, but as a rider and friend as they had been during their travels across the country.

She seemed to be a strange combination of the same child he had met, and a stranger who didn't seem to fit in her own country. Perhaps in Rohan… Éomer shook his head, wondering where that thought had come from so suddenly. He didn't have long to contemplate on it because within a minute, he stood outside the great, marbled throne room. As soon as he entered, he saw Aragorn waiting.

"My friend," Aragorn called out with a smile. "I hope all is well with your sister?"

"Indeed," Éomer returned the smile, "and she sends her thanks for the beautiful rooms and dresses."

"It is not I who should be the receiver of either your or her thanks, for I left her quarters up to another. I knew that the Éowyn and Lothíriel were friends and that Lothíriel had been to Rohan in the past, so I asked if she would be willing to spend some time making her rooms comfortable." Aragorn said. Before Éomer had a chance to respond, Faramir, Legolas and Gimli entered followed by two rangers Éomer had not met before.

"Greetings King Aragorn," Faramir bowed, "and King Éomer. We bring tidings from Ithilien." As Faramir began listing off the findings of the rangers as well as the count of orcs estimated to be left, Éomer found his mind wandering. He thought again of Lothíriel. He pictured her as she had been standing alone in the moonlight, fiddling with the stray curl. He wondered at how long she would have remained, silent under the silvery light of the moon. He also marveled at how she had looked that morning as she was standing in the stables and smiling shyly at him before disappearing without a sound the moment he turned his back. He imagined her remembering not only his homeland, but working to portray it for his sister. It then struck him. Lothíriel had been the one to ensure Éowyn had dresses to wear until at least she could return to Rohan. Not only had she done it, but she had not drawn attention to her generosity.


Lothíriel watched as the ship that would carry her brother back to Dol Amroth pull away from the harbor. The wind was particularly strong and the day was beginning to warm under the spring sun. Finally turning away from the river, she pulled herself up onto Hazelfal. The horse and rider waited patiently as her father and the rest of their company readied themselves to depart once again for the White City.

They were half way across the fields when Lothíriel spotted another party of riders. It didn't take long before she could make out the rider as Éowyn, and when the Rohir noticed Lothíriel, she shifted her direction to meet her. Lothíriel guided Hazelfal to the outside of the guards just as Éowyn reined in her horse.

"Not even a full day out of the House of Healing and you're already on a horse?" Lothíriel laughed lightly. "You Rohirrim are certainly formidable."

"I'm glad to finally be allowed on a horse, let alone leave the city." Éowyn returned her smile. "Perhaps you would like to join us as we simply enjoy the day." Lothíriel turned to her father who nodded before directing a few Swan-Knights from his company to attend the party from Rohan.

"I would love that." Lothíriel walked Hazelfal until she was at Éowyn's side. Within moments, they were galloping away from the city and across the expansive plains. Lothíriel watched as Éowyn urged her horse to move quicker and laughed joyfully as it followed her command. Lothíriel tried to keep up, but it was a lost cause. Hazelfal was no match for a horse of Rohan. Eventually they reached the edge of the forest of Ithilien where Éowyn was waiting for them. The party halted and dismounted and a picnic of bread, cheese and wine was produced from the saddlebags.

"I heard that you had left the city to bid your brother goodbye, and thought I might run into you and make excellent use of the morning cheering you up as you have done so already." Éowyn patted the ground beside her and held up a wineskin. Lothíriel sat next to her in the soft grass, taking the offered drink. The sun had truly begun to shine and with it came a hint of what the warmth would be in the summer.

After a few minutes of silence, Éowyn cleared her throat, drawing Lothíriel's attention. "So, you seem to have had an impact on my brother." Lothíriel felt the heat rushing to her face.

"I'm sure he simply was surprised to see me." She tried to hide her blush, but from the smile on Éowyn's face, she knew she was unsuccessful.

"It seems he had a bit of an impact on you as well." She reached over and squeezed Lothíriel's hand lightly. Lothíriel gave Éowyn a small smile that was returned to her immediately.

"Perhaps," Lothíriel began, "though I doubt anything will come of it." She sighed lightly. Éowyn opened her mouth to say something when from the woods behind them, a wave of black arrows shot out. They shot over both Lothíriel and Éowyn's head and hit several of their guards as well as the horses. The screams from the creatures was a terrifying sound. Éowyn had already jumped up and grabbed a nearby sword, her face turned towards the line of trees that hid their ambushers.

"My ladies," one of the Swan-Knights stood in front of them. "You need to return to the city!"

"Have you forgotten who I am?" Éowyn's chin and sword lifted slightly in defiance.

"Not at all, Shieldmaiden, but the Lady Lothíriel is no warrior. Please return to the city and call for reinforcements." He locked eyes with Éowyn until she nodded and sheathed her sword and pulled Lothíriel towards the horses that were still unhurt. Lothíriel spotted Hazelfal, lying on the ground, with four arrows sticking out of his limp body. A piece of her wanted to run to her dead horse but she knew it would do no good. She only hesitated a few moments before Éowyn was pulling on her arm and they raced towards Éowyn's horse.

Lothíriel came up behind Éowyn and just as they were beginning their escape across the plains, Lothíriel turned and saw the orcs tumbling out of the trees. One of the creatures saw her and took aim. Just as the arrow loosed, Lothíriel closed her eyes and prayed they were out of his range. They continued thundering over the plains and eventually Lothíriel opened her eyes to see that the figures of the men and orcs were growing smaller and smaller while the White City grew bigger.

Just as the group behind them was out of sight, Lothíriel spotted another group of riders. It was Éomer and Faramir, followed closely by a group of heavily armed riders and rangers. As soon as they spotted the two women on the lone horse, they shifted and sped towards each other. The closer Éomer came, Lothíriel could see he was scanning both women for injuries. Éowyn didn't wait for her brother to ask before shouting.

"It was an ambush!" She pointed back towards where they had set up their picnic. "Mordor orcs." Éomer nodded and called forward two riders and giving them quick instructions before turning his group towards the ongoing battle.


The door to Éowyn's chamber flew open and both women turned in anticipation. Éomer's presence seemed to fill the entire room as he looked carefully at both Éowyn's face and Lothíriel's. Finally, he stepped through the entrance, speaking quietly.

"I asked you to stay away from the forest," he ran his hands through his hair, visibly trying to keep his temper, "and what is the first thing you do?" Éowyn's chin lifted defiantly. "You went to the edge of that very forest." His eyes fell back onto Lothíriel before continuing. "And to make matters worse, you not only endangered yourself, but that of Lothíriel." Éowyn's obstinance began to falter.

"It was such a beautiful day, and with the extra guards from Dol Amroth along with the riders from Rohan, I thought we would be safe." Éowyn's voice was quiet. Éomer sighed and gathered his sister in his arms. After a few moments of silence, he let go of Éowyn and stepped towards Lothíriel.

"You are well?" He took her hand gently. She nodded, a somber expression painted on her face. "Please let me escort you back to your home." She stood, not once letting go of his hand, and followed him wordlessly out into the corridor.


Lothíriel stood outside the gate leading to her home. The familiar image of two Swan-ships meeting each other was partially blocked by the Éomer's broad frame. He had turned to look at her, though he hadn't said a single word since leaving the palace. His eyes were warm and sincere, yet stoic as he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"I am glad that you were not hurt, though one of your knights said that your horse was killed in the initial attack." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I am sorry for your loss." Lothíriel felt tears beginning to pool in her eyes, though she blinked them away before nodding.

"Thank you." Her voice seemed to be caught in her throat as she pictured again the image of Hazelfal laying on the ground. She cleared her throat before asking, "I hope you and your men were unhurt in the battle."

"Your concern is sweetly given, but unnecessary." He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "The men of the mark, as well as the rangers I was with, are used to attacks from orcs and evil men alike." The noise of someone's approach on the other side of the gate sounded. Éomer bent forward, scooping up Lothíriel's hand and pressing his warm lips against her knuckles before whispering, "Try to be safe in the future. I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to you." He straightened and before Lothíriel had any chance to respond, he was moving swiftly back towards the palace.