Chapter 18
Éomer's resolution to go and meet Lothíriel for one final time gave him a measure of peace he had not felt in weeks. He was able to focus on being social and pleasant company for the rest of the evening, and afterwards to sleep more quietly than he had ever since Pelargir. Of course, he knew confronting her was no guarantee of anything. Maybe it would bring him even more pain. But it was also clear that there would be no moving on until he did this thing.
He woke up early next morning. There would be plenty of time, because the first meeting would not be before afternoon. He got dressed and had a quick breakfast, and when he was ready, he instructed a servant to inform Aragorn of where he had gone. Éomer had not yet been able to tell his friend the full tale but perhaps after today, he could.
Now that his mind was made up, Éomer strode quickly to the sixth level of the city and after the gate guards had given him the directions to Imrahil's town house, he made his way there. He thought of the things he would say to her and wondered how hard she would resist – if she would try to avoid confronting him and flee once more. But she would not find it easy.
When he arrived at the town house, Éomer did not even need to announce himself or his business: the guards in the blue and silver livery recognised him right away and allowed him in without a question. Wryly he thought there was some advantage about one's reputation preceding oneself and entered the courtyard. It was busy with the ordinary goings of a noble's household. A few Swan Knights here and there, a stablehand leading Imrahil's horse, servants chatting away as they went in their labours... but the entrance hall of the house was quiet and empty as he stepped inside. Bright morning's light washed the hall. Banners of the House of Dol Amroth were proudly displayed on the walls and there was not much in furniture. It had an impersonal feel, like Éomer had just come to some kind of an office of the state.
All these thoughts fell from his mind when he saw that he was not alone.
She had come so quietly, it was as though she had simply materialised there. She stood some ten feet away from him, silent and motionless and her eyes wide as she stared at him in shock. Éomer stared right back. Words died on his lips, because for all he had tried to prepare for this moment, he had not known how deeply he would feel at seeing her again.
A minute passed by while neither of them spoke. Éomer wondered again at how changed she seemed, and what could have caused it. A fanciful thought rose: maybe she felt regret over the way things had ended between them. But he did not dare to trust this idea.
It was she who at last broke the silence.
"My lord", she said in a shaky voice, "what are you doing here?"
"I am here because I think we have been avoiding this long enough. It is time we speak honestly with one another. After all we went through together I hope you can give at least this much", Éomer said gravely and stared hard at her.
Red spots appeared on her face, bringing there some colour for the first time since last night. She lowered her eyes and stared at the stone floor. Was it shame? He couldn't trust his first instinct, not when he was not sure about her.
She moved forward and tried to go past him. But Éomer stepped swiftly to block her way.
"You ran away once. Did it do you any good?" he asked her sharply. She flinched as though he had slapped her.
"I can't -" she mumbled and tried to step around him again, but once more moved to stand before her.
"You can. I know you do. You were not a coward when we were together. Why are you acting like one now?" he demanded. His temper threatened to rise, but he fought to hold it in check. If he began to shout and rage, it would only push her further back into her defences.
"Please, Éomer..." she whispered, avoiding his eyes.
"Tell me the truth. Do I not deserve that much?" he said to her and stared at her hard. His hands itched to grasp her, to try and make her look at him straight.
"What does it matter anymore?" she asked quietly and did not lift her eyes. At least she wasn't trying to get away anymore.
"Well, it might bring us both some peace. Or have you not felt it? How wrong it was to end things without a goodbye?" he asked her fiercely.
The colour on her face deepened, but he could also see her expression growing more pained.
"I know I failed you", she said, almost too quiet for him to hear. "I know you did not deserve it. I wish... I wish I could explain."
"What is stopping you?" Éomer asked loudly and saw her flinch at the question. His confusion grew. Nothing about this was making sense! The way she had just left, making him think she was heartless and deceitful, and now seeing this very real agony... what was the truth? He feared he would go mad if he did not find out.
"I... I left because..." she stammered and fell silent for a second. She wiped a hand across her eyes before attempting to go on, "I was afraid."
"Why?" he wanted to know and noted how anxious his voice came out.
"I was afraid of not being enough. That you would eventually start to regret uniting with me... that I couldn't really be the queen you wanted and needed", Lothíriel answered slowly, sounding like she had to fight to get each word out. Still she stared at the floor, and she was winding her arms around herself as though she would otherwise fall apart. But suddenly she glanced up at him and said, "I felt that the agony of leaving you would be less than losing your affection. Former I could live with, but I don't know if I could ever bear the latter."
Éomer blinked in utter confusion. The way she spoke... however misguided her reasons, she had not made her choice heartlessly.
"Did you really trust me that little?" he asked at length. Without his noticing his hands had become fists, trembling at his sides.
"I did not think of it that way. I would trust you with my life. I was just... I could not imagine how someone as good as you could really keep loving me. You deserve better than me. And yet, if I had come to tell you goodbye, you wouldn't have simply let me go. You would have fought to change my mind, and I... I would let you do it. I would want you to do it", she answered, her voice growing weaker and then again a little stronger as she spoke.
Deep regret washed over him. His fists opened. Something told him this was indeed the truth. It had to be, because if she had been pretending, then she would never have said such things. She would not be in pain, but laugh at him and speak cold words. Only truth could cut you in this way and like he had suspected, it did not put his mind to rest. In fact, he was fairly sure it was something that would torment him long and bitter.
"I wish that you had spoken of these things to me at the time", Éomer said quietly.
Lothíriel let out a small sob.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did, and I... if I could take it back, I would. I shouldn't have left you. I can't stand knowing that I ruined everything. And it kills me to think that... that you may spend the rest of your life thinking of me as a deceitful little monster who never cared about you at all", she said, and it was a wonder she was able to say these things so coherently when her voice sounded like it was close to breaking. And at the end, she did begin to cry indeed.
Had Éomer been a cold man, he might have taken vengeful satisfaction in seeing her suffer like this. But he was not cold and he did not think the world needed any more pain and grief than already was in it. Not when she so clearly regretted her actions... not when it was obvious that there was still love in her heart for him.
And this woman had saved his life.
He couldn't simply watch her weep. So he crossed the space between them and put his arms around her, and in a heartbeat she accepted his offer of comfort. Without hesitation she tangled her own arms about him and pressed her face against his chest. There she sobbed as one would in the middle of complete heartbreak.
And Éomer felt strangely unwound. It was like glimpsing at some truth that had eluded him until now, and he marvelled at how right it still felt to hold her close, even when both of them were so full of regret for how things had ended. In that moment, all of his anger and hurt and disappointment were just gone. All he felt was sympathy for her and grief for understanding the depth of loss. In her heart of hearts, she had not wanted to go.
But if she had not wanted it, why had she left? It could not just be fear. For this woman was more than capable of facing her fear and overcoming it.
While he was thinking of this and trying to arrange it into a question to speak to her, Lothíriel had calmed down and composed herself. She pulled back a little and wiped her eyes with both her hands. They were red and puffy and it still made his heart soften.
"Sorry. I had thought of what I would do if I saw you again, and this was not it", she said and let out a tearful little laugh as she tried to wipe at the now wet spot on his shirt, where she had wept only moments ago. Éomer saw that behind the veils of sadness and pain in her eyes that spark still lived; that glimmer of light he had loved. And he could see that if he should just extend his hand to her, forgive and let his own pain go, she would take it without hesitation.
"It's all right", he uttered quietly. He let his arms fall down and tried to decide what he should do now. While he wasn't certain what he had thought to happen, this was... somehow her grief and his own choice to try and comfort her had left him utterly bereft. And there she just stood, quiet and watching him with those puffy eyes of hers, and he knew neither of them had any idea of what to do next.
It would be so easy to just extend his arms again and pull her close. But did he dare to go down that path?
Could he trust her again?
"It has been good seeing you", she said before Éomer could collect his thoughts to say anything. Grasping her hands together before her, she said quietly, "I wish you all the happiness in the world... even if it is not mine to give."
He looked at her in wonder. It was obvious she did feel for him, and yet she also seemed to believe there was no going back. She would let him go, if that was what he wanted.
"Lothíriel, did you really leave because you were afraid?" he asked her at length.
She hesitated for a moment.
"I... I didn't know what else to do", she whispered and looked down. Éomer frowned and thought back on that day. What could have made her so scared that she'd leave like that? He thought of their last night together and falling asleep with his arms about her... he had not been able to make any sense of it. How could you leave after something like that?
He thought of when he had ridden with Éothain to the port and joined his friends there. Lothíriel had been so close... but she had been with her aunt. Amrothos had gone to get her so that they could speak things through, but Lady Ivriniel had more or less kicked him out. And after that, the next thing Éomer knew was Lothíriel had left.
His frown deepened. Deep inside, there was a sudden sensation he was close to something vital he had missed until now.
"What did your aunt say to you?" he asked her, careful but still determined. He would get to the bottom of this thing no matter what.
She looked deeply conflicted. Fear and doubt marred her expression and he thought of how he had never seen one who was as lost as she.
"She... she said you only thought of me as a puzzle. That your fascination would soon turn into loathing", she whispered, once again winding her arms about herself.
"And how would your aunt know that? Does she know me better than you do?" Éomer asked her. His heart was pacing faster; instinct told him he was close to the truth.
Lothíriel looked up at him. Her eyes were wide, wondering. At once he knew she was close to some realisation just as he was.
Where the conversation would have gone from there, he could not say. But it was interrupted abruptly. For one second, Éomer saw how she was grasping at her own epiphany, but then light dimmed in her eyes as they fixed at something behind him. It felt like some kind of a defence mechanism kicked in: hair at the back of his neck stood up and he knew he was being regarded by unfriendly eyes.
Éomer turned and saw her. The tall, aged woman stood at the doorway and stared at the two of them in silence. Her mouth was a hard, thin line and her eyes cold as ice. He looked at her for no more than half a second when a hand, small but strong, tightly grasped his own. Fingers squeezed his as though in mortal distress.
Lady Ivriniel was first to speak.
"Child, why did you not come to me like I asked?" she inquired in a soft but strong voice. Her eyes were now fixed on Lothíriel as though she was not even aware of Éomer's presence.
"I'm afraid I was keeping her", he said nevertheless.
Now Ivriniel's eyes met his own with a steely flash.
"Indeed that is what you have been doing", she said coolly.
Éomer stood straighter and squared his shoulders. He knew a challenge when it was thrown against his face.
"We fought side by side. I believe that warrants some kind of a friendly discourse. You have been been greedy enough for her time as it is", he said calmly and refused to look away. He knew what this woman had been capable of in her day, and probably still was, but he was not afraid of her.
"It is not greed", said Ivriniel firmly, "to worry over a wayward child."
"I wonder if you were worried for her, or for yourself", Éomer said, narrowing his eyes. He glanced at Lothíriel, and then regarded her again, longer and more deeply. She did not even look at her aunt but instead stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. In them was a scream for help. Her fingers were still wrapped around his, holding them as tightly as before. In his time, Éomer had seen a number of people in need. Yet these eyes captured his own in ways he had not felt before.
And then at last he understood: Lothíriel's decision to go and leave him had not been made freely. And after so many years under this old woman's influence, how could she refuse her?
Éomer squeezed the fingers grasping his own, to let her know she didn't need to stand alone in this fight. He was not leaving her to the ancient spider's mercy again.
"How could you possibly understand, horselord?" Ivriniel taunted. "You crawl in the mud. Your world is so much smaller than ours. Do you not know what I did to train her? What I sacrificed? And yet you would take her away from her right place!"
He opened his mouth to answer, probably lash out in anger. But the woman by his side had already got all the encouragement she had needed.
"You don't get to decide that. It's not up to you who and what I can be, Aunt", said Lothíriel, loud and clear, with strength in her voice that had been missing until now. It was almost like another lady had taken the place of the wounded, sorrowing thing. Éomer looked at her and saw how proudly she lifted her chin once again. There was the woman he had found and loved.
"Child, do not be hasty. Think of what you are doing. Do you really wish to throw away all that we have worked for and gained?" Lady Ivriniel asked, complacent and kind once more. Éomer could only marvel at how easily she shifted between her roles.
But Lothíriel's eyes were open now. Next to him she seethed.
"I am not a child anymore! I have a name. And I have a will of my own, even though all these years you have tried to take it from me!" she said and her voice grew ever stronger as she went on. And still she held his hand in her own, tightly grasping him – for faith, for courage, he wasn't certain. But he was glad to give it. Éomer knew he probably did not need to say a single word more. He just needed to be here and let her take her own freedom.
"Don't you see? All that I did was to make you strong. You were doing so well, Lothíriel, and now you are going to throw it all away? Think of all the good you could do for Dol Amroth! Think of those who came before you! Would you betray them like this?" Ivriniel pressed on. Her eyes flamed, but her face was white as bone.
"There are other ways to fight. And I want to do that in light, where I don't need to become a monster in order to save lives or bring order to chaos. For it is monstrous what we do. What things we have achieved together are not so important to me that I would destroy myself for their sake. That I would give up what life is in me just to exist as a bitter monument to people I have never even known. I want no more of these lies and shadows and manipulations. I am sick of it!" Lothíriel replied, speaking so quickly words nearly stumbled over one another. She had found her resolve and there was no stopping her now. And he – he was so proud of her he wanted to laugh.
"Foolish child", Lady Ivriniel said sternly, like she was berating a disobedient little girl, but he could tell she was no longer a match for her niece. Still the old woman pressed on, "you always had too much of your father in you. Like him, you let your soft heart rule your head."
"Maybe it's not wrong always. Maybe it's not a bad thing to have a heart", said the fearless young woman, beating her wings now that they were no longer in chain. Staring hard at her mentor and jail-keeper she accused, "I was an innocent, Aunt, and you took me anyway. You lied to me. I thought you would help me become someone brave, someone who could inspire others to courage. And yet you made me something hideous! You would choke me to death just to feel better about yourself! And you still won't let me go!"
"Is that is to be your choice, then? To abandon your calling? Abandon your old aunt?" Lady Ivriniel asked. Her voice had become very low, and still her eyes burned. But to Éomer she seemed... diminished, somehow.
"I choose the one who accepts me as I am. Not as he wants me to be, or just the parts that are useful for him. I choose this man who treats me with love and respect and understanding and sees that I am and I can be more than just fractured parts that don't fit together", she said fiercely, until suddenly he saw some uncertainty return to her form. She turned to look at him, hopeful and a little scared as she said the words: "I choose him... if he will have me."
A moment went by in utter silence. A pair of grey eyes, alive and shining once more, regarded him with a question in them. Will you have me? And Éomer knew then that he could save her, just as she had saved him. He could pull her with him to light. All he needed to do was let his hurt and betrayal go and take this chance... for if he should hold back, then this fire he saw in her now would surely die, and she would fade in the shadow of her aunt. Ivriniel would sink her teeth and claws in Lothíriel more deeply than ever before.
He could not let that happen. After all that he had seen today, he could not let this be the end.
Éomer lifted his free hand to wipe a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He rested his hand there against the back of her head and chose to forgive.
"Then come back", he said gently and smiled at her, "and you will have me."
Joy burst across her features like dawn. She let out a soft cry that sounded like a song, and then her arms snaked about him in an embrace so tight that a slighter man would surely have snapped in half. He received her gladly, cradling her against his chest. And she was sobbing again and babbling against his shoulder I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and Éomer felt so relieved, like seeing one's home after a very long day, and he responded just as frantically it's fine, it's fine, it's all fine.
No one had told him how good it felt to just let it go.
He wasn't sure how long they stood there like that, clinging to one another and stammering their apologies and little confessions. He didn't know if any had arrived to witness this confrontation, or what they might think of it. But at long last, Éomer lifted his face, which he had until now kept pressed against Lothíriel's hair. And then he looked at the figure still standing at the twin doors of the house of Prince Imrahil.
Diminished she was indeed, now more than ever: just an old, bitter woman who had lost the only person who could in any way understand her. She did not seem like something threatening. Her features were blank, indifferent even, but now he knew it was merely a mask. Beneath it could be anything and he dared not guess what would she feel in this moment. Was it merely his imagination, or was there some wonder in her eyes, as though she had just witnessed something she had thought was impossible? Pity stirred in his heart, much to his own surprise. He had not thought he could feel it for one who had so obviously manipulated others for so long.
Lothíriel was looking at her too. Her face was very grave, which was no wonder: she had to know she had just burned the bridges of her past.
For a second, it seemed that her eyes met those of Ivriniel. What did one feel at the end of such a relationship? Éomer could only guess. He hoped it was over now – truly over. The old woman had to see Lothíriel was not coming back. Even so, if this ancient spider ever came creeping by the way of Edoras... well, she would not find herself a welcome guest.
Lady Ivriniel turned and stepped outside without another word. Then she was gone and Lothíriel let out a deep, heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry it had to end like that", Éomer said quietly, turning his eyes back to the young woman who still stood with her arms around him.
"There was never any other way it could end", she said softly. "It's all or nothing with her... and I can't ever be safe while she is around. My aunt... she doesn't know how to let go."
He frowned and held her a bit tighter.
"I'm sorry about everything. I should have realised what was happening. I would have come after you, had I known", he said in a low voice. If he had just trusted her... trusted his own instincts. It was dreadful to know how close it had got he had lost her.
"It's not your fault. You reacted as anyone would... no one knew what she was doing, not even the rest of my family", Lothíriel said and her eyes grew veiled. She sighed, "But Éowyn did. She saw through me the moment we met."
"Aye, of course she would. My sister sees a lot more than people usually do", Éomer agreed. But to himself he wondered why hadn't Éowyn send any word to him. If she had figured this out before now, why wouldn't she tell him?
Well, he would find out when Éowyn arrived. Now he was too glad to worry about anything. When he looked at the young woman before him, he felt like his shoulders were light again and his heart easier to bear. She was back. She had never meant to leave. And now at last she was free.
Maybe he was, too.
"I missed you", she told him quietly, tiptoeing closer. "I missed you so that I thought I would go mad."
"Likewise", he murmured and bent his head to her. "Promise me that from now on, we trust one another and fight side by side?"
"Promise. I will never fail you again", she said fiercely, smiling in a way he had not seen her do before.
And then the waiting became too much. They had been without this long enough. So he cradled her by the back of her head and kissed her at last, and once again he felt that sensation like coming home. It was a sweet kiss, as sweet as forgiveness and finding one's way back to something that had almost been lost. Her fingers wound their way in his hair and she pulled him closer to her, bold and eager. It was no spider's kiss. This was something new.
This here was the kiss of a free woman.
It was a thing of wonder how quickly things could turn around in a matter of few hours. At breakfast, Lothíriel had been ready to give up at last and go into whatever shadow her aunt had meant for her. But by midday, this bleak prospect had been utterly abandoned and she was heading down a path that held hope and promise.
Éomer was back. He had returned to her, he forgave her, and he knew the truth. It was a thing of such joy that she wanted to sing.
Confronting him had not been easy. Even more difficult it had become when Aunt arrived. She knew what peril it was, facing this subtle, manipulative woman. But there was an epiphany to seeing her before Éomer – how unafraid of her he was, and knowing him Aunt could never hope to bend to her will. He saw through them both. And somehow that gave her strength. She had reached for his hand and he had let her hold it through this final confrontation.
It was so simple and beautiful in the end. All she needed to find her own voice, her own wings, had been his faith and support. Just this one person who believed she was more woman than a spider or a deadly shadow. And it filled her with so much joy and relief that she did not care who came upon them in the entrance hall, where they stood embracing one another when it was all over, and each long kiss was followed by a several smaller ones, and yet it still wasn't enough. There was so much to make up for, and relief made her so giddy that nothing except her trembling affections seemed to convey all her joy and gratitude. His responses were just as heated and eager.
That was how Father eventually found them.
For when she was pulling back once more a little bit to catch her breath, there was a sudden sound of someone clearing their throat, and then a voice: "There's a story here that I would much like to hear."
She nearly jumped around at this wry announcement. Éomer seemed surprised as well, but his arm still remained about her as though this was merely a minor interruption. Heat rushed up her neck and to her cheeks. But Father, who was standing ten feet away, was smiling. He didn't seem at all angry or scandalised to have this scene happen in his own entrance hall.
Lothíriel exchanged a sheepish look with Éomer. Her face tingled from where his beard had rubbed against it, and her mouth... well, she was not sure her mouth was going to forget about his any time soon.
"I beg your pardon, Imrahil", said the Rohir and sounded perfectly collected.
Father smiled beatifically.
"Whatever for? It looked like you were both enjoying yourselves extremely well."
Lothíriel boggled.
Father looked like his own boldness had taken him aback. But then he bid them to follow him, and he gave an explanation on his unexpectedly approving attitude after leading the two into his study. Once they were seated, he told them he had rather hoped for this outcome.
"At least, I did so until last night, when Lothíriel told me about your... fallout. Which is why I was a little surprised at first to see you getting along so finely again. But I admit it makes me tremendously happy, because my daughter has not seemed quite as glad in some time. Does this mean you have talked things through?" Father inquired as he poured them some wine and offered glasses to the two.
Again they shared a look, but it was more to decide who should answer the question.
"Aye, we have. It turned out there were some misunderstandings... I had let my anger get better of me instead of trying to find out what really happened. Yet after we met last night, I could not stand it any longer. So I came to talk with Lothíriel. But then Lady Ivriniel arrived, and perhaps that is good. It opened my eyes, at least", Éomer said in grave tones and she saw the way he frowned. This all seemed to trouble him deeply still and Lothíriel thought to herself they needed to have another long conversation about him not blaming himself.
"My sister is here?" Father spoke in surprise and some concern. "She did not send any word of coming."
"No, she wouldn't. She only had a message delivered to me when she was already in Harlond... I suppose she didn't want you interfering", Lothíriel said quietly. A shiver ran down her spine when she thought of what almost had happened. She had been ready walk into the clutches of her aunt once more...
Her refusal to appear and speak with her niece back before Lothíriel had left for Minas Tirith now made sense in a wholly new way. Aunt had not been giving up – she had merely laid low and waited for another opportunity.
Éomer's hand came to rest on hers and he squeezed it gently. She saw the solemn look on his face and was able to offer him a smile.
"I should have known she wouldn't give in so easily! By the Powers that be, will she ever let this go?" Father groaned in frustration and rubbed his temples. He cast a pained look at his daughter, "I am very sorry about this. I should have known she would come after you... do not worry for a moment, sweetheart. I will deal with her personally and send her back to Dol Amroth straight away."
"She's still family, Father", Lothíriel said carefully and bit her lip at seeing the fierce looks at the faces of two men who were dear to her. So she hurried to go on, "It would be untoward to send an old woman on a long journey like that when she has only just arrived."
"I will not let her stay under the same roof as you, daughter", said Father sternly. "Who knows what she will decide to do?"
"If I may suggest", Éomer said warily. "What if I were to ask Aragorn and Arwen's help? I'm sure they would love to give lodgings to Lothíriel. Though I do agree with you, Imrahil... were it up to me, that old witch would be driven back to Harlond at earliest convenience – and shipped back south in a locked cell."
"Staying in the Citadel sounds perfectly wonderful to me", Lothíriel hurried to say before Éomer and Father could go on longer and come up with hideous punishments. "Please, don't take action against her. Don't look at me like that – I know just as you what she has done and I don't condone any of it. My pity for her is not ignorance. But I will not have her wrongs answered with more wrong. She's still my aunt and your only living sister... if you think it is horrible what she did to me, try and imagine what was done to her to make her this way."
The two men did not seem to know what to say to that. She sighed and held Éomer's hand a bit tighter.
"I don't think you need to worry about her anymore. I have this feeling... I saw how she looked at us today. There was such wonder, like she couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't fathom Éomer forgiving me, and yet she saw it happen. She has no idea of how to deal with this. Father, I think my aunt knows it's over now", she said slowly, trying to make sense of the conviction that had formed in her mind, shapeless but true.
Maybe Ivriniel had just not thought it was possible to forgive after the hurt and betrayal she had tried to use to separate them... that you could care about someone so much you would choose to put aside your own pain and try again.
"How can you be certain, daughter? Are you really sure she'll let you go now and not try to take you back, even at the cost of harm for Éomer?" Father asked carefully and cast a concerned look at the Rohir. The man by her side let out a low growl, as though to say let her try.
"Trust me, Father. I know her in ways you never could. You think she is heartless, and surely she is capable of hardening herself to a point that seems almost inhuman to us. But she does have a code", Lothíriel said an shook her head with a humourless smile. "And what could she do, even if she were that far gone? My aunt is old and has taught me all her tricks. She is not so subtle or swift anymore that she could fool me. Neither is she stupid. She knows I will be watching, and give hell to anyone who tries to hurt my king."
Whether it was because of her words or the hard tone she used, but neither Father or Éomer made more questions on the matter. Their faces had become very serious as they regarded her. Lothíriel gave them a small smile in an attempt to soften it a little.
Éomer looked straight at her, "I do believe you know better than either of us ever could. I simply want to make sure that you are safe. I can't risk losing you again."
"You won't. Not now. Not ever", she told him and squeezed his hand. The dear man did not seem to yet realise what he had done for her today... but in time, she would tell him the full extent of it.
"Well", said Father softly, and though he was smiling, there was also something bittersweet about his expression, "I believe the only thing left to do now is to give you my blessing. One just needs to look at the two of you to know how things are... I merely ask that you treat well my daughter, Éomer. She has been through things we can only imagine, and her happiness is of utmost importance to me."
"As it is to me", Éomer said and looked at her once more, and she felt like her heart might burst at the warmth that shone in his eyes. This was real. This was happening. And she had been so stupid to let Aunt make her believe otherwise. She almost felt like this single moment of just meeting his eyes and knowing that he forgave her and accepted her was something that could rid her of a lifetime's worth of poisoned words.
Suddenly, he rose up on his feet, and went on, "Though, before any blessing is given, I must renew my proposal. Even if at this point I'm not certain how I should ask you. As a king to a princess, or a soldier to a spy?"
Lothíriel rose, too, and took his warm, strong hands in hers. His fingers tightened about her own.
"Don't overthink it. Ask like a man asks a woman", she said softly.
A bright smile spread across Éomer's features, and she had this breathless sort of feeling – of truly putting behind the ruthless spider and being young woman who has found and fallen in love with a wonderful man.
"We have waited and wondered enough. Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, will you be my wife?"
To be continued.
A/N: I can't tell you how satisfying writing this chapter was. Bringing them together again and finally letting Éomer know the full story after all the angst felt pretty good. Plus, them confronting Ivriniel together seems to me the direction all this has been heading. Éomer represents this particular brand of courage to Lothíriel where you face things proudly and straightforwardly, which is of course different to what has been her own approach until now. But when he stands next to her, she finds she can be just as brave and finally take her freedom. In fact, I felt that it took both their effort to get there, because Éomer wouldn't know how, or wouldn't have the patience to address Ivriniel in a way that would truly get to her. And Lothíriel would need his support to be able to speak those words.
He does play a bigger part than just supporting her: the fact that he chooses to forgive her is also what finally repels Ivriniel. He does something she didn't think any man be able to do. Ivriniel was counting on his hurt and offence over Lothíriel's betrayal and she believed that his pride would forever part them. But his love and the sheer fact he's a decent fellow prove greater than Ivriniel's manipulations, and in that moment she understands that Lothíriel is truly gone from her. I think deep down Ivriniel has no trouble comprehending why her niece would choose this way, or seeing that it's ultimately a better choice. Perhaps at an earlier point in her own life, she would take that choice, too. But there's no way she could ever say this out loud.
As you will know if you have read my earlier stories, I do believe any story based on Tolkien's works should recall love that moves mountains - and, in doing so, forgives and lifts up rather than pushes down. From this love not only does Éomer finally let go of his anger, but also emerges Lothíriel's pity for Ivriniel, because she understands unlike anyone how truly, completely alone her aunt will be after this.
Thank you for reading and reviewing!
EStrunk - No such luck! I think he'd rather handle it face to face. And I imagine it was a good idea to do so!
Also I'm glad if I managed to write that awkward moment so well. It was not the easiest thing to do, but I'm pretty satisfied with it, too.
Catspector - Thankfully, he has an impeccable timing! :) He's not letting her get lost until he has had his say.
Anon - No doubt she was in a really bad place in that moment, but Éomer is fortunately pretty good at shaking things up! I think all she really needed was just someone having her back - and because it was had by no one else than him, she comes back to life.
Boramir - Thank you! :)
I think Ivriniel knew very well that Imrahil was going to be angry, but at the same time, she probably counted on having Lothíriel back under her thumb so tightly that her father couldn't interfere successfully again. And it probably was working, because Lothíriel's own thoughts at the end of that chapter were in that vein.
I don't believe Ivriniel would really go as far as harming Éomer. Like Lothíriel says, she does have a code, and even without it she would see that it would cause great damage to Dol Amroth. At this point, she would also be well aware that Lothíriel will never let her hurt him - and if Ivriniel did go that far, it would just earn her niece's lasting hatred.
But there is also that last flicker of decency in her that recognises the love between the two. She sees that Lothíriel truly does love this man, and he is actually able and willing to forgive her. It basically shakes Ivriniel's world view to the core. But it's also something she can't manipulate or break, and this she knows at once. In that moment she understands she has lost.
Wondereye - Well, he does! :)
Jo - Thank you! :)
Nerdanel - It was great to write, too. I don't usually write that much between just two of them, so it was fun to just let them be together as a father and daughter. :)
Ivriniel wouldn't give up so easily, not while she thought she still had a chance and believed Éomer was out of the picture. But she was really quite wrong!
Doranwen - Yes, he's happy to get in the way! ;) I hope you liked the confrontation!
Leilal - Glad to hear that! :)
Merakia - She wasn't just going to stand down! But I think she has now finally realised that she can't get Lothíriel back. In the end it was just as they had thought before: with Éomer by her side, Lothíriel has all the strength and the will she needs to break free!
