Chapter 2

June 3020 Dol Amroth

After long, arduous months in the Mark, it occurred to Éomer that visiting Dol Amroth was the perfect way to forget about his many concerns for a little while.

The winter back in his land had not been easy, even though weathers had been milder than usually and they had been able to save more from the harvest than Éomer had expected at first. The provisions Aragorn had sent to help Rohirrim to get through the worst of it had come to a great need, but they could not make up for burned homes or working hands that had been stilled forever on the great battlefields of the Ring War.

But eventually, spring came again, rebuilding of homes was started, and the foaling season proved to be exceptionally good. There was some hope in the land again and Éomer kept telling himself that with hard work, his people could pull through this time and recover. It was a difficult time also because of personal reasons: as soon as the snows melted and weathers grew fairer, the wedding of Éowyn and Faramir took place in Meduseld. When she was gone, the young king felt more alone than he ever had.

As such, visiting friends in Gondor came as a welcome interruption; he spent a few days in Mundburg and then some more in Emyn Arnen as a guest to Éowyn and Faramir. And, considering he was halfway there, he decided to finally claim Imrahil's invitations and pay him a visit in the city by the sea. The Prince had renewed his invitation several times during the winter, making Éomer wonder how much of it was because Éowyn's gentle pressure through Faramir. Though she didn't say it straight in her letters, he was very well aware of how much she worried about him shouldering the duties of a king, which were all the more demanding as long as the wounds of war were still fresh in the Mark. He was also well aware that she would have postponed the date of her wedding had he just asked. But Éomer had decided he would be damned if he didn't allow at least one of them to get on with their life and be happy.

All the same, perhaps for these very reasons, he had decided it was a good idea to get away from Edoras for a while, and in any case he was eager to visit his Amrothian friends. It was not often possible to meet them all at the same time. Elphir rarely left Dol Amroth these days and he had not been able to make it to Éowyn and Faramir's wedding – he was seeing to the duties of the Prince while Imrahil travelled back and forth between their home and Mundburg. Meanwhile, Erchirion had his hands full with commanding the Amrothian fleet, and Amrothos was kept busy with the lords of Belfalas, of whom his father was the chief. Imrahil himself was still back in the White City, but he had reassured his friend he'd be no more than three days behind Éomer himself, and in the meantime, his sons would be glad to host him.

And so, as his company travelled southwards, the weathers grew milder and fairer, and eventually they could even smell and see something Éomer and his Riders had never perceived until now: the Great Sea was before their eyes, glimmering in sunlight and stretching far beyond horizon. Back in the north, it had been difficult to imagine such masses of water, and though the young king had some Númenórean blood through his grandmother Morwen Steelsheen, no desire for the sea stirred in him. Rather, he decided he would be perfectly comfortable just observing it from afar.

The land of Belfalas was fair and rich, with lush green gardens that bore fruit and flowers, great fields that could produce enough grain to feed countless mouths, vineyards that yielded some of the best wines in Middle-earth, and waters that teemed with fish and other sealife. No wonder Imrahil was counted as the most powerful lord in the land, considering the wealth and prosperity he commanded. Compared to this peace and plenty, the Riddermark seemed like a harsh, wild land. His messengers had ridden between the two cities during the winter and they had much praised this beautiful land, but now Éomer felt their words did not do justice to the sweet shores of Dor-en-Ernil.

In the middle of all this was the city of Dol Amroth, as brilliant as a white jewel. The hand-print of the great builders who remembered Númenor's glory could not be mistaken about when one travelled on the paved streets and gazed at the tall houses. On one side, the city descended into a busy harbour that embraced the sea, and in the bay there were many ships great and small. There were lively markets on the way, where goods were sold in a brilliant variety, and as far as Éomer could tell, the economy of Dol Amroth seemed to be thriving. Soldiers in the livery of blue and silver could be seen here and there, keeping order and peace, but they greeted the arriving Rohirrim and politely made way to the war-horses. As they passed, many of the common folk stopped to watch them in wonder. Rohirrim were not a usual sight in these parts, especially not in such quantities.

The palace of the Princes of Dol Amroth suited well the picture. Built of the same white stone as the rest of the city, its towers stood tall and proud on a rock that overlooked the sea, and the great gateway held the banners of the House of Dol Amroth. Swan Knights stood up on the guarding walls and made their rounds, and the pair at the gate bowed their heads when the King of Rohan and his company rode by them. In the courtyard, everything was ready for them: stablehands would receive the horses of the King's Company, Riders would be shown to their quarters, and Prince Elphir himself along with his two younger brothers was there to welcome the royal visitor. They were all smiling – Amrothos was grinning – and once he was in the talking distance, warm greetings filled the air. It was good to be among friends after a long journey.

About as soon as Éomer had dismounted, he was surrounded from all sides, and it seemed that the three princes were talking at the same time, asking about his journey, speaking quickly of this or that amusement prepared for him, and making what seemed like a hundred other questions. But then the Lady Aredhel, Elphir's wife, pushed in between them and shooed them like a bunch of misbehaving children, and reminded them that their guest had only just arrived. Under her supervision, the young king was whisked away to his rooms, and soon enough he had washed and changed clothes. He knew his Riders were looked after just as meticulously. Éomer observed Imrahil's sons fussing over him with a twinge of envy on his heart: no such family, so easy and glad together, waited for him back in Edoras.

When he joined his Amrothian friends again, it was already dinnertime. He was ushered into a dining hall and a glass of wine was pushed into his hand. With some bewilderment he gazed around himself: tables and chairs made of pale, polished wood, pennants depicting the Swan Ship of Dol Amroth, tasteful flower arrangements, fine porcelain and silver cutlery so delicate he wondered if he could even handle them in his hands... it surely had Imrahil's air about it. The Lady Aredhel did no join them; with a smile she merely commented she would only be in the way of them catching up.

The beginning of the meal was spent in exchanging tidings and remembering Éowyn and Faramir's wedding a few months ago. The food was delicious and company of friends was even better, and Éomer relaxed, feeling the strain of the journey leaving him at last. It was surely good to be away from the matters of the crown for a while.

But then at one point, Amrothos mentioned a name cursorily – and it was a name that belonged to a family member Éomer still had not met. He couldn't say what sparked his attention or made him ask the question. Maybe it was idle curiosity, induced by the rich red wine served with the meal.

"Is the Princess Lothíriel going to join us tonight? I don't believe I have been introduced to her yet", he remarked, fingering the foot of his wine glass as he leaned back in his chair.

"She's out of the city, visiting relatives", Elphir said smoothly and gestured to a servant to pour another drink to their guest.

"That's a pity. Faramir spoke warmly of her", Éomer said. Considering how tightly-knit the Amrothian family seemed to be, it was rather odd that one member of it had avoided all the many social gatherings there had been in Edoras and Mundburg, from crownings to funerals and weddings.

"She's something of an eccentric, Lothíriel is. Doesn't usually care much for crowds. Takes after our aunt in that", Amrothos put in a little too quickly and sipped his wine. But then he nearly spluttered it over the table and he cast a quick, guilty look at his brother Erchirion, who was glaring at him. Éomer lifted his eyebrows; if he should guess, one brother had just kicked the other in the shin under the table.

Even so, he did remember the brief meeting with Lady Ivriniel at some feast back in Minas Tirith when the war had ended. The woman had struck him as cool and distant, sparing him no more than the most necessary courtesy before gliding away. How the woman was able to move so with her limp, he couldn't tell. But in any case, he had hard time imagining any of Imrahil's offspring taking after her. In fact, he might not even have believed the two were siblings, hadn't the Prince introduced his sister himself.

While he couldn't say his curiosity had been satisfied by the princes – actually, Amrothos behaviour had only piqued it more – he could tell they were not keen to talk about their sister. In some other situation, he might have pressed on until he was told something satisfactory, but he decided pursuing the matter right now would only ruin the pleasant mood. So let it pass for the time being. Maybe the Princess would return while his visit lasted and he could see for himself what was so unusual about her that her brothers would grow so apprehensive at the mention of her.

Erchirion took the opportunity to change the course of conversation.

"So, how go things in Rohan?" he wanted to know, leaning his elbows on the edge of the table.

"Busily. Even more so than I had feared", said Éomer and he let out a small sigh. What could he tell his friends about endless days in the saddle or in the council rooms, meeting throngs of families who had lost all they had in the world, or the lonely nights he lay awake? To describe these things was sure to make the atmosphere morose, and he was not here to ruin others' night.

"You made it through the first winter. The worst is behind you", Elphir stated sympathetically. He could understand the burden perhaps better than his brothers, as he was Imrahil's heir and already took part in many matters of governing Belfalas.

"I'd like to think so. But as a king, you never know for sure. The worst could actually be just around the corner", he said uneasily and looked at his glass with a frown. Perhaps what made it so hard was he had been given no time to prepare for becoming a king. Théodred had received a lifetime's worth of schooling in that regard, but with his death, the mantle of the Lord of the Mark was thrust upon one who had never expected to receive it. And days had been brief and anxious between his becoming Théoden's heir and being named the King on the battlefield. His uncle had not had time to teach him much or to pass on his wisdom. In a way, it all felt like being thrown into water and ordered to swim without prior experience.

"You are too hard on yourself. Aragorn says no one could have managed better. You kept Rohan together after a devastating war and that is no small thing", Erchirion pointed out. Éomer did not mention it had only been possible due to grain and livestock Aragorn had sent before the winter fell on them. He had loathed having to rely on the good will of others, even someone as close as his fellow king, but truth was his kingdom would not have survived without outside help. As a king, his task had been to swallow his pride and make sure his people received the help they needed.

"Well, let's hope I didn't keep it together just to destroy it by being a hapless politician and a ruler", he muttered and took a mouthful of the wine. It was starting to taste better and better, which was a sure sign he ought to slow down.

"I know what you need, my friend. You should get married. Having a queen by your side would help you to handle the duties", Elphir said sagely.

"Elphir has been singing that song ever since he married Aredhel. He doesn't seem to grasp the rest of us aren't such prudes as him. And how could I give up the sweet and friendly lasses of the taverns of Dol Amroth?" Amrothos said, which earned him a glare from the eldest of three.

"Yes, the wenches of this land would go wailing from Edhellond to Minas Tirith if you should marry, dearest brother", he said sternly, while Éomer was trying to hide his amusement. While he did not particularly enjoy the topic of marriage, the banter between brothers cheered him up. Sometimes he wondered if Imrahil's sons were even aware of how entertaining their conversations could be.

"Don't listen to Amrothos – he's a disgrace and we all know it. I think Elphir is right. You should raise a family! Isn't Father always saying how important it is? He once told me he would have gone mad long ago if he didn't have us", Erchirion put in, looking equally amused with his brothers' bickering.

"One could claim he did just that because of us", Amrothos quipped once more. The three princes were talking again so fast Éomer couldn't get a word in, not even to point out he was already well familiar with this subject. It was his council's favourite topic, especially as of late.

"Because of you, maybe", Erchirion countered his brother's statement.

"I will when the time is right", the young king finally managed to say, exercising that same relentless conviction he had perfected while talking to his advisers. Thankfully, the three princes were more easily silenced as far as this matter went. They exchanged a look between themselves and seemed to decide it was wiser to back off than to disturb a sleeping dragon. But even then, Amrothos couldn't fight the temptation of one final remark on the matter.

"There's an entire generation of young ladies who will be both frustrated and delighted to hear that", he said lightly and then spluttered again when Erchirion gave his shin another kick.

Éomer snorted under his breath and while he knew it was tempting the fates, he sipped his wine again. Idly he wondered why the Princess Lothíriel's name had never come up when the matter of his marriage had been discussed. It made a certain kind of sense, after all – Imrahil was his good friend and allying himself with a powerful Gondorian House through marriage was not bad politics. But obviously, she was not interested. So he judged, considering she had not even insisted to be present in the celebrations after the war, like so many noble ladies of Gondor. He knew many of them had rather narrowed chances of finding a companion for life, for a number of young lords of the land had lost their lives in the war. But Princess Lothíriel had no reason to be fearful of her future. As the only daughter of Prince Imrahil, a lord both wealthy and powerful, she could have her pick of a husband even after the War of the Ring.

And who was to say she even wanted anyone? Amrothos had said she was like her aunt, and Lady Ivriniel had chosen to live her life alone. In fact, he remembered seeing a certain kind of coldness in her eyes that implied profound disinterest in intimate relationships. In that, they had freedom he would never know.

Thankfully, Elphir then began to talk about wanting to take their northern friend to sailing, leading the conversation back to lighter tracks that didn't have to do with finding a bride.

It was late when he crawled into his bed, feeling a little drunk but also relieved. Laughing and jesting with friends was just what he had needed and for tonight, Rohan and the burdens of the throne were far away. Slipping between soft, fresh sheets he let out a sigh and felt deliciously tired. Not even the sea, unfamiliar in its sight and sound, kept him awake that night; he was soon fast asleep and saw no dreams.


The sun had already set when Lothíriel slipped inside the palace of the Princes of Dol Amroth.

She had a lengthy journey behind her, but she was satisfied. After months of hard work, she had finally been able to track down the lair of Black Guldor, a notable bandit chief who had been terrorising the road to Dol Amroth for some time. At first, Father had sent his Knights to seek for the scoundrel and his men, but their investigations had availed nothing. Eventually, Aunt had persuaded him that a different approach was necessary. Some jobs were meant for spiders.

It turned out Aunt was right. In the end, sneaking around, listening to gossip, shadowing some suspected members of the band, and a great deal of patience had finally allowed Lothíriel to follow the band to their hide out. They never knew she had been there, and so wouldn't know to expect Father's Knights when they would fall on the villains. She only had to deliver her intelligence to the Captain of the Guard and let him take it from there. It was a clean job that required no bloodshed on her part, and afterwards her little corner of the world would be a little safer.

As she made her way through the courtyard, her dark cloak sheltering her from eyes and her soft boots making no sound against the stone pavement, she made notice of the company of men standing about one brazier that lit the yard at night. Tall men with long blond manes, talking and laughing in the speech of Rohan. Their tongue had been favourite to learn, for to her ears it sounded almost like music. She lifted her eyebrows; she hadn't known such a quantity were expected in Dol Amroth at this time. Usually they came alone or in pairs, delivering messages from King Éomer in the north.

She had never met any of them personally, not even their king who was friend to her kinsmen. Her missions had not taken her that far north, not yet at least. But she would have had to live under a rock not to have heard stories about the Lord of the Mark, and Father and brothers hadn't spared their praise about the fierce horselords. Especially their king and his sister enjoyed her family's admiration. Amrothos, the most enthusiastic horseman among her brothers, had practically worshipped Rohirrim after the war had ended. But her aunt, who had seen the King of Rohan at least once, hadn't said much about the man. Then again, she rarely spoke favourably of any representative of male sex. Wryly Lothíriel thought it was hard to make up her own mind between the men of her family, who spoke of the King like a long lost family member, and Aunt who was coolly disinterested in people like him.

But perhaps she'd now finally get to meet the famous King Éomer, and make her own assumptions at last. Surely it meant he was in the city, if there were so many Rohirrim in the very courtyard of her Father's palace? This was no time to go and introduce herself, of course. It was already very late and she was way-worn from her latest mission. It wouldn't be easy to explain her appearance at this time, and anyway she would need to know what her brothers had told the man about her. While she looked forward to meeting someone so famous and so praised by her kinsmen, she also knew she would have to be careful. King Éomer had the reputation of a discerning man, and it would be wise to make sure he wouldn't think of the Princess of Dol Amroth twice after this journey.

Lothíriel had now crossed over the courtyard and without the notice of laughing Riders she slipped inside. Using the shadowy corridors and narrow staircases away from the light, formal parts of the palace, she passed unseen like a ghost. And ghost she strove to be, unseen and unheard in all the dealings of her secret profession.

Though the palace itself was rather quiet at this hour, Aunt Ivriniel was still awake. Lamps and candles illuminated softly her private chambers and she sat, seemingly lost in thought as she laboured at her loom, her skilful hands moving quickly over the weave. She had always been a gifted weaver but hadn't really dedicated much time to it before her injury. One who didn't know her might have believed she was fully absorbed in her work, but Lothíriel knew better. Though she had tried it for years now, she had never been able to sneak up on her mentor.

"Success?" Aunt asked without lifting her eyes from her work.

"Yes. I was able to find the bandits' hideout", she answered and stood before her father's sister. Aunt never allowed her to sit when she was delivering a report from her mission, or receiving another quest.

She proceeded to describe what she had found out and where to find the outlaws. Her aunt would deliver the needed information to the Captain of the Guard – one of the very few people who knew about the Hidden Blades, though even he wasn't privy to the full truth about who they were and what they did. Lothíriel had sometimes wondered why Ivriniel would insist to remain as the hand between her and the captain, but she guessed it was because while the older woman couldn't practice their trade anymore, she still identified herself by it. So she had to be able to do at least something beyond just instructing her successor.

When Lothíriel reached the ending of her explanation, she spied a satisfied look on Aunt's face.

"Good. I shall relay the news to the captain. His men can take care of this matter", Aunt said and continued her work with the faintest little smile on her face.

"About time. I won't be missing that sorry bunch or the places I had to crawl into in order to get the information", said the young woman and she made a move to throw herself into the other chair.

"Hold still, child. I have another task for you", Aunt's voice lashed out, freezing her where she stood. She had spent so many years listening to Ivriniel's sharply delivered commands, she was still following them instinctively.

"Already? But I only just got back!" Lothíriel complained in disappointment. "I was hoping to spend some time with my brothers, and there are Rohirrim -"

"Quiet", Aunt ordered and the young woman fell silent. Satisfied with this, she went on, "You won't be needing to leave Dol Amroth. You can attend to the task and have your little fun with the guests before they leave."

A slight scowl twisted her lips momentarily before she spoke again, "Your father would be disappointed, anyway, if you weren't introduced to that friend of his from the north. My brother often has such strange priorities."

So it was as Lothíriel had guessed: the King of Rohan was visiting Dol Amroth.

"How is it strange? King Éomer is an important ally of our own king, and our House. It's not good politics to mistreat allies. He will have noticed my absence already, Aunt, and he will wonder about it", Lothíriel pointed out, hesitating between sitting down and standing upright. But considering her mentor had not yet given her new mission, she decided to stay on her feet.

Aunt Ivriniel scoffed.

"You think too much about politics. I've told you a hundred times they are not our concern. It's your father's business to come up with some excuse to keep the man from wondering", she said coolly.

"Well, they should be our concern, now more than ever. The world is changing, Aunt, and we must change with it", Lothíriel said eagerly. But as ever when she tried to suggest something new, her father's sister did not seem very impressed.

Aunt Ivriniel sighed.

"You are still young, niece, and there is so much you don't know. But one day you will see", she merely said and cast a sharp look at the young woman. "Now, if that is enough of chit chat, I still have to give you your new mission."

"Very well", Lothíriel said and stood up straighter.

"Whispers have reached my ears that some rather suspicious characters have been seen down at the port. It seems that a band of Umbarian mariners have entered Dol Amroth and are staying at a tavern called Uinen's Mirror close to the shipyard. Now, your father would tell you that they are simply merchants, trying to make profit in this new time of peace. However, my sources tell me that one of them was seen wearing a tunic with the Black Serpent embroidered on it under his cloak, which he quickly covered when he realised it had become visible", Aunt explained to her, speaking in that low, heated voice she only used when speaking of missions. Lothíriel listened eagerly; she didn't wonder that her mentor had this intelligence, for the woman still had many of her contacts in the city and even beyond. It would take years to build a similar web of information for herself.

"So you think they have something evil in mind? That trading is only a front for some nefarious corsair plot?" she asked, already mulling over the methods and manoeuvres that were usually effective when dealing with Umbarians.

"I do not know anything for sure yet", Aunt allowed, frowning slightly. "But we both know those who bear the sign of Black Serpent are some of the most bitter enemies of Gondor. If that sign is being carried in Dol Amroth, then I would like to know all that I can about it."

She looked straight at her niece now, her eyes almost black in this light, "Go to Uinen's Mirror, niece. Learn what you can, but don't show yourself. They must not know we are on to them, so you need to avoid being noticed. Once you have the intelligence we need, come back to me and then we shall decide what to do."

To be continued.


A/N: And here we have a new chapter! I wasn't sure I would be able to update before the New Year, but I got some free time tonight and was able to finish this one. I hope you've all had great holidays, and I wish a happy new year to you all!

I admit I was a little anxious for how people would respond to this story, but so far the reactions have been surprisingly positive, and that makes me very happy.

Now a couple of years have passed since the events of last chapter, and the time is after the War of the Ring. Éomer and Lothíriel have not met yet, but we'll get there soon enough!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!


Irgendwer - Thank you! I am very glad to hear you think so! :)

Tibblets - Great! It's good to have you on board again. :)

Nerdanel - It does feel great to have a new story going once more. :) I hope you enjoy this one!

sai19 - That is what I strive for! While I always wished Tolkien had written more about Éomer and Lothíriel, on the other hand it allows me to explore their relationship in so many ways. :)

ckara - Here's to hoping I'll be able to fulfill those expectations!

Luckylily - I do hope you like the story!

Doranwen - Thank you!

outlawwoman - I hope this continues to excite! :)

Guest - Thank you! :)

Amoor - It was great writing him again. No meeting in this one yet, but we'll get there!

Guest - I have never watched that show, but I guess I now have to check it out! Also I am glad if I have managed to do something that you've always wanted to see. Here's to hoping the story keeps delivering!

Jo - Excellent! :D

EStrunk - As I like to say - go big or go home! :D Yes, I would imagine after all that training she would have quite a few tricks up her sleeve. But we'll see how and where those tricks will come at need!

Celebrin Aranel - Thanks! :)

Catspector - Thank you very much! I am actually pretty happy about how the characters turned out in this story - even though some of it surprised even myself. But more on that in coming chapters!

Anon - I don't think Ivriniel would leave anything to chance!