Chapter 13

The events unfurled much like in a whirlwind after Éomer heard the horns of his guard in the distance. His first attempt was to follow the sound and find his riders, for he did not know any other reason Rohirric horns would be blowing in Pelargir unless they had come here and were trying to guide him back to them. Help had at last arrived.

But as it was close, it was still so far away. For he did not get far in his attempt to follow the sound before he ran into another corsair band, four of them this time. So, their nets were cast about the streets, and it was now a matter of time who got to him first. Whether the corsairs recognised the sound of Rohirric horns he did not know, but at least the likes of Shanum might abandon the idea of taking Éomer as captive, and pursue vengeance instead.

He was barely able to avoid contact with the four, who were now hot on his heels. Further behind, he thought he could hear shouting. Éomer sprang again, knowing he only needed to keep up this race until his men arrived. If Éothain had brought the entire guard, they could quickly cover a large area in the city. Even just two of them, fully armed and mounted, could hold up against several corsairs easily. He was sweating hard after already running for a lengthy period with only few rests and his mouth was parched. But the knowledge his friends were near kept him going.

Éomer dashed across a small, walled kitchen orchard and his pursuers followed him close. A few women cried out startled as this ragtag bunch stormed through. He leaped up a flight of stairs that lead to a terrace above the house, and for a second thought he was trapped. Luckily, the distance between this and a lower building's roof across the narrow street was not too far. He jumped, reckless enough to earn himself Éothain's lasting disapproval, and reached his destination easily. He looked over his shoulder to see the pirates hesitating at the leap. They did not have the benefit of his long legs or the foolhardy streak of Éomund's line. As though in testimony of that fact, his left foot nearly slipped on the roof tiles, but he managed to keep his balance. Éomer slid down at the other end of the building's roof and eased his fall by landing in wagon full of hay.

And when his feet hit the ground, he saw Shanum waiting for him.

The man looked positively murderous. His sword was bared in his hand and it was clear that if they should be left to it without any interference from other pirates or Rohirrim, only one man would be walking out of this place alive. While Éomer would otherwise been fine with this challenge, he knew he shouldn't kill the man. No doubt both Aragorn and Imrahil would be just as interested as himself to learn whether this rampant showing of the Black Serpent's sign meant that the southern armies were recovering and planning a new war against the realms of the North.

"Must we continue this chase? You know it's finished. My Riders will be here soon", Éomer said, his tone calm and even, though he kept his hand on the hilt of the sword.

"That is not your blade. Give it back", Shanum sneered, paying no heed to Éomer's words.

"I will give it up soon enough", said the Rohir. "And hopefully never come to a situation again where I must take my enemy's sword to defend myself."

"Not indeed", said his opponent. "For you will be dead! Just like the wench you were with!"

With that, the enraged man leaped at him. But Éomer was ready and met the attack with a steady hand.

"Where is she? What did you do to her?" he growled. If they had harmed Lothíriel somehow…!

"Simply what that two-faced hellcat deserved!" Shanum spat, and for a moment he had the upper hand while Éomer tried to get a grip of himself. But though panic for her sake throbbed inside his skull like pain, he reassured himself that had Shanum been telling him the truth, then he would take his time to torment Éomer with horrific descriptions what had been done to her - and to discourage him enough to make him fail. And though she was wounded, she was not helpless. Maybe she had woken up soon after he had gone, and either escaped or bested whoever had come for her…

He had to believe that.

Shanum had skill with blade, but wrath had overcome him and his attacks were less cunning than they could have been. Éomer let the man push him back, towards the other end of the street; he had seen from the roof it was wider and lighter than this one. There Riders could easily see him and come to his aid. And the faster this fight ended, the sooner he would be able to go and check on Lothíriel, make sure Shanum was just telling him a filthy lie.

But then, as they were only halfway to where this alley opened to the street, he heard two voices shouting Shanum's name from behind. Éomer risked a quick glance over his shoulder and saw a pair of corsairs coming at him, their blades ready to strike. He was trying to come up with some way to make it out of this one when a great shadow darkened the end of the alley. And then an arrow pierced the neck of the first man coming at him. The second met his end by spear soon enough.

Éomer barely dodged Shanum's stab. In his joy he nearly missed the next one as well, for now the great shadow had split into three smaller ones, and foremost of them was Éothain himself. The captain came riding and shouting abuse at his king, coming up with such ludicrous derisive names that Éomer could only laugh. Knowing what his friend must have gone through, he was glad to allow the man this moment of venting his frustations.

"Glad to see you too, Éothain!" he called out lightly. Now his answers to Shanum's attacks became more ferocious and it was his turn to push the corsair back.

Fixing his focus fully on his opponent, he spoke in hard tones, "Give up, Shanum. You cannot win this fight."

"I would rather die first!" was the growling answer. And Éomer deemed the man might just do that. Disarming him would take a much longer fight than the Rohir currently had time or stomach for, and so he glanced at Éothain, who was now hovering behind his back.

"So this one won't go down nicely. Might I ask for your assistance?" he asked. And as they had been brothers in arms for so long, Éothain had no trouble understanding the request.

"You might", said the captain and turned his spear swiftly in his hand. Then he used the blunt wooden head of it to strike straight in the middle of Shanum's forehead.

It was no trouble to shove the sword from his hand while he was dizzy and confused from Éothain's well aimed blow. Then Folcred, a Rider who had come with the captain, got down from the saddle and pushed the corsair down on the ground and held him there while the third one, Ceorl he was named, produced some rope to tie him.

Éomer stood there and had a breathless sort of feeling on him. It was finished at last.

Well, maybe not yet. Not while he didn't know if she was all right.

Éothain dismounted as well and came to him in two long strides. His eyes were wide and his mouth a thin line.

"Are you unhurt?" he asked in a rough voice.

"I'm fine, Éothain", Éomer responded solemnly. He reached for the shoulder of his friend, "I'm very sorry. You have been through hell and it was my fault. I should have been more careful. I'll never put you through this again."

"You better not!" growled the man and then at last he grabbed his friend and king into a spine-breaking hug. As they were talking, more riders were flooding the place and filling it with noise. Many of them exclaimed in joy when they saw their king unharmed, and Éomer greeted them with smiles and waves of his hand.

He looked again at his captain, "Listen, I'm sure there's some place important you want to take me, but first we need to go and check on my… I need to make sure something first."

The captain offered him a crooked smile.

"Is that 'something' perhaps Imrahil's sneaky daughter? If so, don't you worry about her. I saw her in the port… we were going to ride for your hideout, but she found us before that and directed us to seek you on the streets instead", Éothain said and looked as though it all was something he still could scarcely believe.

Éomer let out a breath he hadn't noticed holding. So she was safe! He had guessed right, then. She had put up a fight and those pirates had been fools to expect nothing less. A surge of pride went through him. The woman was fierce, even injured.

"So Imrahil told you about her?" he asked his friend at length.

"Aye. It was difficult to believe, but considering you're here, alive and unhurt, maybe he didn't exaggerate. Even as I saw her, dressed like a boy as she was, I doubted", Éothain answered and shook his head again. "Mad bunch, eh?"

"Indeed", Éomer said and smiled. He'd take it no other way. "Shall we, then?"

"We shall. There's about thirty people back in the port who want to see you - Aragorn among them", said Éothain and quickly gave orders to four riders to get Shanum back to the harbour. Then he was already leading Éomer to the street.

"He came, too? Béma, I have turned the whole realm upside down, haven't I?" said the King of Rohan wryly.

"Oh, that you have. And this time I'm not the only one who lost ten years of his life because of your stupid antics", Éothain said sternly.

"Sorry", said Éomer again, quiet and humble. He knew Éothain was going easy on him - the man could have made him feel his guilt much more keenly than this. But his mood grew lighter when he saw Firefoot being lead to where they were standing. The stallion snorted loudly and nearly yanked himself free, but he calmed when Éomer reached for him.

"I missed you too, old friend", he murmured to Firefoot as he ran his hands across the animal's powerful neck. He cast a glance at Éothain, who was mounted again and ready go forth once more, "Thank you for bringing him."

"What else could I do? He'd have torn apart Imrahil's stables and how would that have looked like? His master has already caused the good prince enough excitement", the captain quipped, making Éomer laugh. Yes, things were getting back to normal.

Before he and a small company of Riders made for the harbour, Éomer gave orders for the rest of them to keep up the searches. Only five corsairs had been found so far on the streets and more should be still making their desperate attempts either to flee or to hide. He wanted all that could be caught rounded up so that Imrahil could deal properly with the lot. That should discourage their ilk back in Umbar from attempting something like this again.

When that was taken care of, he and Éothain and the knights with them started for the harbour. The captain relayed him the tidings of past few days and how they had hastened from Dol Amroth as soon as Lothíriel's message had arrived. He explained their initial plan of coming to get Éomer at the safe house, and how Lothíriel's arrival had rather changed it. The young king listened and was glad that she had not only got away, but also helped out his captain and the Swan Knights. And he he owed her his life twice over. If Éothain and the Riders had gone to the safe house instead of coming to look for him, it might have given the corsairs enough time to catch Éomer.

"She is quite resourceful indeed. And brave as well. I have never met her like", he stated softly to his friend. Éothain regarded him with a faint smile - the first real one since finding his king on that dim alley. He already saw where this was going.

"You like her, don't you?" he inquired.

"Do you have to ask?" Éomer shot back. He could not hold back a grin, however foolish it was. Truth was, he couldn't wait to see her. There was so much to tell her, and he wanted to know what had happened after he had left her. And that was something he wanted to apologise for, as soon as possible. Had he known what peril waited outside the walls of the apartment… well, it had been unnecessary pain for her.

Yes, there was much to say. And the sooner they were reunited, the better.

They reached the harbour then, and Éomer saw it was quite crowded. Not only common folk had come to see the King Elessar and Amrothian ships, but also what little nobility lived in this city, and he assumed they would feel even more astonished to see him make an appearance. One thing was sure, at least: this day was an incident that would long be remembered in Pelargir. What would be the story that came out of these events? Even he was not yet sure.

Then as they came closer, Éomer saw Aragorn at the quay, talking with Imrahil and Amrothos. But the man turned when he heard the approaching horses and his face lit up. Imrahil looked supremely relieved as he lifted his hand in greeting, and Amrothos grinned and waved in enthusiasm at the Rohir.

"Éomer!" Aragorn called out his name. Relief was quite clear on the man's features as he came to meet the Rohir. Éomer smiled as he met his friend and brother. He knew that if Aragorn should ever pull such an act and vanish without a trace, Gondor would be in such disarray as no one wanted to imagine. But then, he was much too smart to get himself into trouble like that.

"Aragorn", he answered the greeting of his friend and but for one thing he was at ease. He looked at his friend, "All is well now, I can assure you."

Aragorn smiled.

"That is good to know. And I'm glad to see you unharmed, brother. Before I came here, I already had so many ideas about what had happened to you, and none that I liked", he said and shook his head. But then his expression softened once more, "But come now! We have much to discuss."

"Aye", Éomer agreed and threw a glance around himself. "Where is Lothíriel? I'd like her to join us."

"We saw her five minutes ago. She was telling us of what has happened to the two of you lately but then I noticed she was bleeding and sent her to see a healer. I imagine she'll join us later", said Imrahil as he stepped closer. He didn't seem surprised Éomer would talk so familiarly about his daughter, but on the other hand, he probably knew formality was impossible after sharing such an adventure.

"She was bleeding?" Éomer asked in concern, at once wondering if she had taken more injury since he had left her sleeping. Shanum had said she had been killed, which he assumed meant people had been sent after her...

His gaze flitted uneasily between Aragorn and Imrahil's faces when he asked, "Is she hurt?"

"It was an earlier wound from your skirmish with the pirates - it had opened while she was making her way here. Do not worry, Éomer. It didn't seem serious", Aragorn reassured him gently. Hearing this, the Rohir was able to relax somewhat. He was still anxious to see her, but at least he knew now she was safe and sound.

Few more things needed to be taken care of: Éomer sent most of his men again to help with searches around the city and Shanum and the pirates captured so far were taken to their cells under the deck of Amrothos' own ship. A pair of Riders, those of the fastest of his company, were at once sent to bring the good news to Éowyn in Ithilien and Éomer's council in the Mark. Then Aragorn lead him to his own vessel and there in a light cabin they took luncheon, accompanied by Éothain, Imrahil and Amrothos. Over it, the Rohir explained more in detail all that had happened since he had been taken captive. Éothain's expressions varied between outraged and despairing, and Éomer guessed he was in for a scolding he wouldn't soon forget once his captain got to him alone. But Amrothos seemed highly entertained by the story, while Aragorn was calm and serious. Imrahil seemed at times like this all brought him near physical pain.

"That is about it", he said at last when he had given his tale. He looked around the faces of his friends, "I imagine Lothíriel could add a few more things, though."

"Quite the adventure you have had, brother", Aragorn remarked, leaning back in his chair.

"Indeed. For my part, I must apologise for what happened. It is not acceptable that a friend and ally should be in such danger in our own city", Imrahil said in grave tones. It looked like this affair had very seriously tried his peace of mind. He went on, "Whatever amends you deem appropriate will be made, Éomer. I only wish that the friendship between our peoples can be retained even after these events."

"Don't worry about it, Imrahil. I don't blame you for what happened. And I'm not blind to all the ways you and your family have struggled to help me. Without your daughter I wouldn't be here", Éomer said and offered a smile to his friend. Imrahil returned it, but the Rohir had a feeling it would be a while until the prince would be back in his usually composed spirits.

"Have you given any thought what you will tell of all this to your own people?" Aragorn asked then.

Éomer sighed. There had not been a chance to talk with Lothíriel about what he was allowed to reveal beyond his circle of closest friends and family. Well, in the very beginning when he had still thought her a boy, she had insisted her part should remain a secret as much as possible. He didn't see how that had changed in any way.

"Not much", he said now, rubbing his temple with one hand. "I'm not sure what to say of all this."

"If you ask me, I believe my sister and aunt won't like the idea of full exposure. You'll understand why that is", Amrothos said solemnly and toyed with a glass of wine between his fingers. "But I don't think they would mind if you just say that my father's spy helped you out. That's not a lie, isn't it?"

No, it wasn't. And yet Éomer felt like it wasn't the truth, either. He frowned and looked down. Indeed, what story could he tell? What would make sure that his people were appeased to and asked no questions that would force him to lie? All this had seemed so irrelevant while he and Lothíriel were busy trying to survive. Now that peril was past, he understood the importance of this issue.

He thought of what Uncle would do. Yet the memory of the dear old man did not bring the help he needed. Théoden had fallen in nets of lies and manipulations, until Gandalf pulled him out… but even then, when Éomer had been ready to take his own sword and smite Gríma Wormtongue, Uncle had actually offered a chance to the snake to redeem himself and prove that he was true. And years before that, when Éomer had been but a young and eager captain, he remembered coming across his uncle at a late hour when the man stood staring over the moonlit plains of the Mark. He had asked what was the matter, and Théoden had merely given him a sorrowing little smile before answering: "There are things a king may only speak to the Moon, sister-son."

If it meant anything, it was that a king might have a few secrets of his own.

Then again, if Lothíriel was to leave this life and come with him to Rohan… did it matter if all was revealed? For there didn't seem to be anyone to carry on the work. The Lady Ivriniel was now unable to assume the role again and all the talks he had had with Lothíriel since his proposal had explicitly proposed that the Queen of Rohan could not go sneaking and spying around. Well, in any case it was not his decision to make if her identity was revealed or not. It was her secret to keep, if she chose so. Even with it, she was still the daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth and this was a fact that the world knew well.

Maybe that was all that mattered.

"I will have to talk about it with her", Éomer said at last and raised his eyes again. "But at any event, I owe her my life. It is because of her that I sit here now and am able to go back home again. For that, the least I can do is hold my silence, if it is what she asks of me."

"What of your people back in Rohan? Will Rohirrim be content with having you back, or do you think they will expect something more?" Imrahil asked then warily. Aragorn leaned forward in interest as well.

"I hope that they will be too caught up with relief to think of anything else. It will help that so many of the culprits have been caught... I expect they will be dealt with according to your laws?" Éomer asked his Gondorian friends and was accompanied by an agreeing grunt from Éothain.

"Absolutely, brother. An attack against you is an attack against us all", Aragorn said gravely.

"Then my expectations are met", said Éomer and idly tried to smooth down his beard. He smiled wryly, "As far as I'm concerned, if there was any redeeming the House of Dol Amroth ever needed to do, Lothíriel has delivered it in full. Thus there is no need to stir bad blood between me and you."

Imrahil looked to be more at ease when he heard that and Aragorn smiled. He glanced at the Prince, eyes glimmering good-naturedly.

"Your daughter did well, my friend. I promise that her efforts will be remembered in the Citadel of the White City, even if the world can't know what she did", he said solemnly.

"She has made me proud indeed", Imrahil spoke softly. Then he seemed to shake himself and he looked at his son, "Amrothos, could you go and see what's keeping her? I believe she should be here as well, so that we might hear her account."

"Right away, Ada", said the young man and he hurried out. Éomer raised an eyebrow as Amrothos went. Not only had the man been unusually quiet, he was also surprisingly complacent. But he guessed it had to do with what had happened. Perhaps Amrothos' usually high spirits were dampened by the unfortunate events of Éomer's capture back in Dol Amroth. The Rohir hoped he would cheer up again once this all was over.

But when Amrothos returned, it was alone. A slight crease furrowed his brow.

"Aunt is with her right now. She told me to get lost", he said and made a face. Imrahil frowned as well.

"Did you say that both King Éomer and King Elessar would like to see Lothíriel?" he asked his son, looking like he contemplated getting up and going to get his daughter himself.

"I did, but do you think that moves Aunt Ivriniel one way or the other?" Amrothos asked back and shrugged.

Imrahil let out a sigh and looked at the two kings with a beaten expression.

"I apologise on behalf of my sister. She... she can be quite self-willed. It is not to disrespect either of you", he said. Éomer held back a snort. Either Imrahil was trying to cover for his sister's lack of courtesy, or he was not even aware of how far her disdain went.

"It's fine. I'm sure they have a lot to talk about", he said in any case and waved his hand to dismiss his friend's concern. But with his own words, concern rose in Éomer's mind. What was Lothíriel going to tell her aunt? Was she going to relate the full extent of what promises she and him had made to one another? And if that was so, what would be Lady Ivriniel's reaction to the prospect of losing her pupil?

He was not allowed to pursue this line of thought further - and perhaps realise the entire dread of it. For it was in that moment there was a knock at the door, announcing the arrival of the Lord of Pelargir.

The matter of Lothíriel had to be put aside, as her part in these events was not known to the master of the city. Éomer felt uneasy. The plan had been to face Lady Ivriniel together… but it couldn't be helped now. He would see her soon enough, talk with Imrahil about betrothal, and turn his face towards what would hopefully be happier days.

Before that, there were few corsairs to deal with and allies to meet. Even so, Éomer knew already he would not be at peace until he had seen Lothíriel again.


King Elessar and Father got to Lothíriel before she had a chance to go and meet her aunt. The pair of them caught her on the quay and asked for news, which she delivered straight away; when she glanced back to the deck again, Aunt's figure had vanished. But soon enough the King of Gondor and Arnor noticed her injury and urged Lothíriel to go ahead and see a healer. Knowing there was nothing more she could do for Éomer, she took the King's advice and limped forth to where he had directed her. Father looked like he would have liked to hug her tight, but did not dare to do so when they were in the front of so many observing eyes. A look of concern appeared on his features when her injury became apparent; he even seemed like he might carry her there himself. But at least her feet still supported her and was able to get to her destination at last.

While the healer worked on her wound, uneasy feeling steadily grew in Lothíriel's stomach. She knew where she needed to go next. Aunt was waiting for her. The old woman might have withdrawn when King Elessar had appeared, but it was only a brief delay of inevitable confrontation. Soon enough noise from outside also betrayed the news that were confirmed a few moments later by one young lad who served on the ship: King Éomer had been found and he was meeting with King Elessar this very moment. Lothíriel felt like stone fell from her heart and she smiled to herself. Of course he would make it through! The man was ferocious indeed and could hold out against a bunch of pirates. Even so it was good to know he was safe again. He was close and she would see him soon. And perhaps Aunt would be on a good mood now that the mission had reached a successful end.

Well, there was nothing to it. She would have to face her aunt sooner or later, and later would be worse, because her mentor would not like it if she purposely tried to avoid her. It was odd, really. Never before now had Lothíriel felt like this when on her way to see Aunt.

So, after the healer was done with her and the wound was newly wrapped, she slowly made way back to the deck. There she inquired after the whereabouts of the Lady Ivriniel, and was directed to the cabin where the old woman was lodging for the voyage.

Even knowing that postponing it only made things worse, Lothíriel hesitated behind the door for a minute. It was all too easy to imagine what Aunt would think once she had given her report. The old woman would say she had made many mistakes: exposing her identity to Éomer, letting the corsairs keep up with their trail, getting injured, being separated from the Rohir and leaving him to danger once more, compromising the safe house, falling in love…

She sighed. With Aunt it never was enough to just say she had done her best.

Aunt Ivriniel's voice commanded her to step inside almost immediately when she knocked the door. Lothíriel did so, bracing herself for the confrontation. Abruptly she wished Éomer was with her, but he would be busy with King Elessar and her father and brother. And Aunt would never let him be in the same room while Lothíriel was reporting, anyway.

Lady Ivriniel was seated by a small, round window. She was doing some needlework and looking like a perfectly harmless aged woman. Yet wryly Lothíriel thought her kinswoman could probably even use the small needle to bring down a man, if she wanted.

"Well?" Aunt asked swiftly, wasting no time in greetings. There was no surprise on her face, as though she had known this was the exact moment Lothíriel would return.

"He's safe. I brought him back", said Lothíriel, though she imagined Aunt had also heard the noise from outside and guessed its meaning. She could not help a small self-satisfied smile, even if she knew her aunt would not appreciate such shows of smug complacency.

"As you very well should", Aunt said coolly and focused on the piece of fabric in her hands. She spoke in a lower voice, "Report."

Like she always did, Lothíriel began to speak and describe the events of her mission. She explained what had taken place, how she had managed to free the King of Rohan, and how they had made their way to Pelargir. Then she spoke of the days spent there and how they had got separated, until Lothíriel had reached the port and directed Éomer's men to look for him. Aunt listened in silence until she finished.

After Lothíriel had spoken, was her mentor's turn. Now Aunt put aside her needlework, assessed her actions and gave her own statement on how she deemed her niece's accomplishment. As Lothíriel had feared, Aunt was mostly focused on pointing out all the ways she had done wrong. The old lady kept going on, and apparently she couldn't decide whether her worst mistake had been revealing herself or compromising their hideout in Pelargir. She spoke sharply and her voice resembled whiplashes.

Before now, Aunt's criticism had been easy to take even when it was harsh. With cold calculating mind, Lothíriel had considered her mentor's observations and seen their worth. But now... now it was so hard to take. It felt like it was personal. And when she spoke of Éomer... she tried to keep her account unemotional, but Aunt saw right through her. She saw what the Rohir already meant to her.

"So, you took one little trip with a handsome man and it made you as ridiculous as any brainless courtier", Aunt commented at last, and no noblewoman had seemed as cold or threatening as she did then, resting her hands in her lap and staring at her niece.

"It's not like that, Aunt. He's not some stupid man who only thinks about dallying with young ladies. He is good. He wants me", said Lothíriel and fiercely thought of the moment Éomer had asked for her hand in marriage. It had been real, for he did not do things he didn't feel truly. Even if nothing else in her life was so, that moment shared with Éomer was pure.

But Lady Ivriniel did not seem impressed. She let out a loud, harsh laugh.

"Poor, sweet Lothíriel", she said, her voice cutting like a sword. "What did he promise you? Was he telling you he would make you his queen? That he would love you? How naïve can you be, child?"

"He has asked me to marry him", Lothíriel announced firmly. She stood there as straight as though a plank was propping up her back.

Aunt looked so unimpressed that not even Lord Denethor could have surpassed her expression of cool discontent. There she sat, one eyebrow lifted, and her mouth a stern line. One might think Lothíriel had just blurted out a particularly offensive joke.

"Then he is a fool", said Aunt at last in that same cool tone. "And you are a fool as well if you actually believed him."

"That's not true! He meant it. He wants it for real. As do I, Aunt! I want to marry him", said the younger woman in a tone as belligerent she could manage. She knew her words did not even begin to sound convincing, but on the other hand, she wasn't sure what kind of argumentation it even took to make Ivriniel change her mind.

Aunt's lips grew pale and tight and she gripped the armrests of her chair so tightly that her knuckles grew white.

"And that's what you think will happen? You will marry him and go be his little wife in Rohan? Pop out a few straw-haired children who'll be as loud and absurd as him?" asked Aunt harshly, and Lothíriel felt heat rising up her neck and all the way to the roots of her hair. Her head throbbed with both anger and embarrassment on Éomer's behalf. How dare the woman speak so! How could she understand any of this?

"Yes! I'm going with him because he wants me! He doesn't tell me what I must be or try to control my every move! Éomer wants me for who I am!" she exclaimed. In that moment, she felt a burning in her breast, and she wanted this – she desired the life Éomer had promised her so fiercely that it felt like it would make her burst. No matter how unrefined Aunt made it sound like with her words, Lothíriel did not see how it could be wrong or ugly. She loved the idea of a green country far away from all these shadows, living there with him by her side, and fair-haired children, borne of her body…

All this and more she wanted to say to her kinswoman. But somehow her tongue felt like lead in her mouth, and all that came out were just the kind of things that would only make Aunt further convinced that her niece was being stupid and fanciful. She couldn't speak. Why was it so hard to argue for herself now? Why wouldn't the words come out of her mouth?

The old woman laughed. It was a low, ugly laugh, and her eyes were freezing cold.

"He wants you? What makes you believe that, child? Haven't I told you enough times how full of nonsense men are?" she asked her niece sharply.

"Not him!" Lothíriel answered swiftly. Her hands pressed into fists and she stared hard at her aunt, wishing - aching - for the words that truly described what she felt.

"Not him? How can you be so sure? You have only known him for a few days! It can only be infatuation. You know this in your heart", Aunt Ivriniel said calmly. Her cool, grey eyes kept Lothíriel as a prisoner. She went on, "He may like and want you now. You are a novelty to him, like an exotic bird or a puzzle he has not yet solved. Men are always fascinated by things they haven't seen before. But that is only until he gets what he wants. Novelty will wear off and the mystery laid bare before his eyes. He won't like what he will see. And then he will grow to resent you."

"Resent me?" the young woman whispered. Her voice came out much more uncertain than she would have liked.

"Yes! He will resent you! Because you are stronger than him – stronger than any man. You are not hindered by things that bind him. And men cannot stand having wives who have stouter hearts than themselves", Aunt stated harshly, like she was teaching some truths about the world to an ignorant child.

"You don't know him", Lothíriel tried to raise her voice, clutching her hands together when there was nothing else to hold.

"I don't need to know him. You have told me enough", said Aunt and her voice grew hard and cold. She continued, "And even without that, he's a man. What have I told you all these years, child? You can't let one of his kind distract you. For you are worth so much more than that. Will you let all your potential go to waste with him? Ruin all we have because of some horse-riding warrior?"

"Aunt..." whispered Lothíriel in a thin voice. She felt like one who has been caught in the web of a giant spider. And they were spiders, she and Aunt, and such could never have a future with someone like him. He was meant for sunlight. He was as bright as she was dark.

"You are my heir, Lothíriel. Would you let my legacy go to waste just because you fancy some foolish male? Would you betray all those who have come before you for the sake of one man?" Aunt Ivriniel asked her gravely. Her grey eyes were like ice and steel and they burned Lothíriel where she stood.

Perhaps her aunt was right. Perhaps she could never be what Éomer wanted... be the woman he thought he saw in her… and it terrified her, the idea that some day he would look at her and hate what he saw. That would be worse than never having his love at all.

Ivriniel stood up and came to her, moving stiffly without her cane. She laid her hands on Lothíriel's shoulders and for the first time, there was some gentleness on her features.

"I know it hurts. There is only disappointment in trying to reconcile these two worlds - it is something we all must learn sooner or later. But once you learn to leave his world and its temptations behind, you will become free in ways you did not know before", Aunt spoke to her niece. Almost her voice sounded like a song.

Lothíriel could not answer anything, not beyond a miserable little sigh when she bowed her head. Ivriniel's arms, still strong and wiry after her long career, wrapped about her shoulders.

"You belong with me, child", Aunt whispered in her ear. "You belong in the shadow. It is what we both have known for so many years… why would you want to give it up? It is garish out there with him, and you will find you are trapped in a loveless marriage, hating him and your own self more and more as years steal away from you. How could you possibly manage as a queen? Your life will grow bitter in a strange country that will never understand you. But I do. I am your only true friend, Lothíriel."

And with those final words Aunt's voice grew very soft and tender.

"I am the only one who loves you."


It was already evening when Éomer could finally go look for Lothíriel. By that time, his anxiety had grown almost too much to bear. Where was she? Why hadn't she joined the company? Surely her aunt would not require her presence this long! Well, she had been bleeding when she had got here, so maybe the healer had commanded her to get some rest. That possibility worried him deeply, too. It took great effort to be able to follow conversations around him and answer others' questions, and eventually he excused himself, telling his friends he needed to take care of something important. Aragorn smiled knowingly - he had already put together two and two from the few words they had been able to exchange in private - and Imrahil too seemed to suspect something. Éothain said nothing but followed his king with a very satisfied expression. Éomer guessed in his captain's book, the best possible outcome of these events was getting his king safe, sound, and married.

Soon enough Éomer encountered a major problem: no one he spoke on the Amrothian ships seemed to know what had become of the spy who had arrived this morning. He met only incredulous faces and wondering looks. Why would the Rohirric king want to still affiliate himself with reminders of his recent misfortunes? Surely a sensible man would want to forget about all of it, and at any rate what use could some spy still be to him?

Éomer started to lose his temper. This was ridiculous! It was no one's business what he wanted with his helper, and anyway it had already been far too long since he had last seen her. He still hadn't made sure she was truly fine, or spoken of what had happened to her, or apologised for disappearing… and he hadn't yet got a chance to talk to Imrahil with her! It was maddening.

And his growing impatience was being noticed; another officer arrived and tried to shush him, and Éomer would probably have raised his voice or told Éothain throw a few unhelpful crew members into the river, hadn't Amrothos hastened to the scene to find out what was the matter. If he had not been in such ill mood, Éomer would have made some kind of a jest about Amrothos and his kinsmen walking on eggshells around him.

"Éomer, my friend! What seems to be the problem?" Amrothos asked in concern. Next to him, the officer Éomer had been bullying looked immensely relieved to have someone else take care of the irritable horselord.

The Rohir breathed deeply in and out, trying to calm his mind. He still owed her the secrecy she required and he could not go announcing the truth about her to the whole world. So he did not answer until he was sure he could keep his voice down.

"I'm just trying to find your sister, but no one seems to know where she is", Éomer told his friend from between gritted teeth. A sense of foreboding had come to him. So many hours had passed since they had both arrived at the harbour, and yet she still had not come to him… had something happened to her? Was her aunt to blame?

"Give me a moment", Amrothos said right away and turned to speak with the officer in hushed voices. Then another man was fetched, and the three spent a while talking quick and quiet. Éomer crossed his arms across his chest and tried to remain patient. It felt unreal. He had seen Lothíriel only this morning, and yet it seemed like many days had passed since then… his hands itched to touch her, to hold her close, and make sure all was well. He felt so anxious, it was like his very skin could not contain it!

When Amrothos returned to him again and Éomer saw how serious and pale his friend's face had become, he felt his heart sink. The weight or disappointment and betrayal fell on him, so heavy that he feared his shoulders would collapse under it.

"I'm sorry, Éomer. My sister is already on her way back to Dol Amroth."

To be continued.


A/N: So... yeah. This happened. As ever, I got almost gleeful when writing yet another cliffhanger, but I am also very curious as to how you, my dear readers, will react to this one. It's not actually a turn of event I foresaw when first drafting the story. However, once I had had some rather important realisations about my first two chapters, and as I wrote further along, I also decided to go this route. I have been impatient to get to show and really explore this side of their relationship, and I'm thrilled to be here at last.

What's going on here, then? Simply said, Ivriniel has returned, and she's going to hold on to her favourite toy with teeth and claws! And this is something I can't go into here, not sufficiently at least. I tried to, but my thoughts turned into a proper essay of over 1500 words. So, to spare my own time and yours, I am going to post my study of characters and the dynamics of their relationships at my tumblr, which you will find at themoonlily dot tumblr dot com. But to summarise my very general conclusions here, basically the idea is that the relationship between Lothíriel and Ivriniel is actually fairly unhealthy and abusive, and the latter has been manipulating the former for many years now. And no one actually sees this. Éomer has some inkling, but he doesn't see the full picture, especially because he hasn't seen Lothíriel and Ivriniel together. He doesn't realise how much Lothíriel actually needs his help. I imagine that will also impact his reaction to this turn of events. Also, the fairly twisted relationship also means that Lothíriel is in fact almost entirely helpless against her aunt and without Éomer to support her, she simply can't reject Ivriniel's influence: she has been subjected to this conditioning for so many years that it's normal for her. And that is a very powerful shackle to bind her. But if all of this interests you more and you are curious to read my thoughts more in depth, please visit my blog for the much longer examination of these issues!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!


Doranwen - Safe he is indeed! But looks like his troubles have not yet ended. ;) And you are quite right about the confrontation with Ivriniel!

Wtiger5 - Yes, there would be no more effective way to get his full attention! And the moment in Lord of the Rings when Rohirrim arrive to the Pelennor fields and blow their horns at dawn is one of my favourites, I still get goosebumps when reading it!

Also you raise some very good points about Éowyn! She does indeed abandon her post, which would probably be regarded as a huge violation, if she did not in the end slay a very important enemy. So it seems that such an end may justify unconventional means.

Katia0203 - Thank you! I liked that moment, too. :) Poor Amrothos may be a bit more serious than before, but he can still be oblivious at times!

And you are quite right about meeting Ivriniel. That confrontation surely turned out very interesting.

EStrunk - Glad you liked it! I think Éothain (at least in this version) takes the matter most seriously, especially now that Éomer has been danger for such a period of time! But I'm afraid reunion is not likely to happen any time soon now!

Guest - Thank you! I wonder if this hits at all close to your theories. :) Of course, I'm always happy to hear what my readers think will happen!

silverswath - Thanks! So many have reacted positively to it, I'm more and more convinced I'm doing this right after all! And this new chapter did turn out something unexpected, even for me!

Catspector - Yes, it was the perfect thing to do at that time! I do hope you liked the meeting with Ivriniel, even despite the way it ended!

Merakia - Reinforcements surely took care of the dangerous aspects, but there may be more troubles to come. But let's just say that Ivriniel was everything but happy at the beginning! I'm not sure if I'll write her POV, because for reasons that maybe shine more clearer in this chapter, I don't know if I could write her perspective in a way that would satisfy me.

Anon - I hope she remains relatable, even though her submitting may seem disappointing! Unfortunately for Éomer, he doesn't suspect any of this is going on, and so doesn't go looking for her before it's too late.

Anyway, you are quite right. Ignoring the events of this chapter, she is quite qualified for the job of the Queen of Rohan. And as I have tried to previously express, rulers must walk some difficult paths that may not align with their own ideals.

Jo - I'm sorry, I just keep deliverig cliffhangers! But at least they're both safe now - in a manner of speaking!

heckofabecca - Thank you for your comments! Truly made my day. :)

I admit I like writing Ivriniel here, even in all her nastiness, and though I don't take her own POV. And I'm glad to hear you like the interactions! I have truly enjoyed writing them as well, because the setting here allows some interesting angles. I do think that Lothíriel, after the way she was trained and brought up by her Aunt, would have hard time choosing the path she wants to follow.

I definitely believe that trauma/abuse survivors should not be judged and viewed merely by that trauma/abuse! I have not been abused myself or gone through trauma, so I know I'm not the most qualified person to talk about these matters. If you ever see anything in my stories that is wrong or dubious in this regard, just let me know and I'll try to fix it! But even so, Lothíriel's journey is far from finished, and it may still contain some pitfalls. However it's far from finished!

Nerdanel - I'm afraid I'm on a roll right now, as far as cliffhangers go! We'll see about that reunion. ;) And you were quite right to worry about Ivriniel!