Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt. - Ecthelion, The Bard of Lossarnarch
Chapter 2
Never before had her arrival to Minas Tirith been quite so mingled with relief and disappointment as it was on the day that Lothíriel returned from her brief and foolish escapade to the Fields of Cormallen.
Relief, because she had eluded more embarrassing encounters with the King of Rohan.
Disappointment, because now she was stuck in the city while waiting for her family to return. Indeed, all the interesting things were happening far from this dusty old city! It almost made her regret coming back to Minas Tirith instead of just confronting the King of Rohan... but then, when she thought of what had happened by the stream of Anduin, she was quite happy that she had indeed chosen to get away from the camp and subsequently the man himself.
Though now she had to ask: was there any chance at all that he might forget her? At least she considered the meeting by the river quite unforgettable.
Be it as may, Amrothos had helped her to get along the escort that was returning Minas Tirith that very day. Following their elaborate story, he had told the leader of the escort – a Rohirric rider who went by the name of Breca – that his father had heard there was a shortage of healers in Minas Tirith and as such he was sending one of his own to help out. The name of Prince Imrahil proved an adequate warranty, and Lothíriel had joined the group without further questions. All had gone well, though she had nearly fallen from her saddle when the King of Rohan along with his men had returned from one of his patrols. The only reason he had not spotted her was her hooded cloak and the fact that she had turned away quickly enough.
How fitting it would have been for him to see her then: she couldn't possibly have made it away if he indeed had noticed her. And after their little encounter back at the river, there was no way he would let her escape.
The journey to the White City had been tedious. This time there had not even been Amrothos to talk with, and she dared not chat much with the rest of the company. None need to know that Princess of Dol Amroth was travelling aboard, because a word of that would just have raised unwanted questions. All in all she had managed to make the journey with astonishingly few problems and no one had even recognised her... but then, she hadn't exactly made a noise about herself. She had been very cautious of that ever since meeting the King of Rohan.
As she had expected the time spent waiting for the Host of the West to return to Minas Tirith was long as it was boring. People were already returning to the city and so it was at least a bit livelier than before, and so much of her time she spent at the markets – though compared to the years of peace and plenty it was minimal. Her cousin Faramir was very busy with arranging everything so that the city would be ready for when Isildur's Heir returned... but at least one night not so long before the day that the King returned he did have time for a supper with her.
He had invited her to the Steward's House, which now belonged to him. It was strange, thinking he was the master of that house now; Uncle Denethor had always seemed like he'd live forever. But he was gone, and so was Boromir. She didn't know if she could ever get used to their absence, though she was aware it was so much worse for Faramir.
But their conversations did not touch those who were gone, but went along lighter topics, until half-way through the supper Faramir cast a thoughtful look at her.
"I have to say, I'm kind of surprised to hear you didn't accompany Amrothos to the Fields of Cormallen", he said; the two of them had not kept much noise about their comings and goings, so Faramir had never heard of the matter at all until from her – and that was only about Amrothos' departure.
"Well, I thought it wouldn't probably be too interesting, and it'd be dangerous anyway..." Lothíriel said quickly, though as soon as that sentence was out of her mouth she realised how unlike her it was. Faramir appeared to think so too, for he lifted his eyebrows.
"Really? When has danger ever held you back, cousin?" he wondered out loud.
"Um, never", she allowed as there was no way she could have somehow denied the truth. "But I thought maybe Father would like me to stay here."
"There's another thing you rarely pay heed to, Lothíriel", Faramir pointed out. Oh, she should have known he'd take up this matter!
"It's, hmm, all those kings around him. They'd probably think ill of me, if I came prancing into the middle of them, and I should at least to try and hold up the honour of Dol Amroth", she mumbled and took a long sip of her wine.
"I wouldn't be too worried about them. Lord Aragorn doesn't seem like he lets small matters to bother him, and King Éomer is even more easygoing", Faramir commented. His words about the Rohirric king had Lothíriel snorting in the middle of her drink and she nearly choked. Her cousin lifted eyebrows, "Did I say something funny?"
"Not at all", she answered as soon as she had cleared her throat. "I just didn't think even the King of the horselords would be too approving of women bearing arms."
"I suppose that's true, to an extent. You see, the Rohirrim are not against fighting women per say. Lady Éowyn tells me they have many songs and legends about Shieldmaidens who would ride to battle along with the men... I have even heard some news that the White Lady was not the only woman to take up arms in this war. But their King is a bit more complicated matter. He did not take well what happened to his sister – she nearly died in the battle, you see. And she is last that is left of his kin", Faramir explained softly.
Lothíriel frowned to herself, taking another sip of her wine in order to have a moment to think. Well, Faramir's words did explain some things. The King of Rohan must have been remembering his sister when he had seen her charging, and being the hot-tempered fellow everyone said he was, he had lashed out on her.
And Lady Éowyn was the last of his kin... how lonely his life sounded like!
To rid herself of these thoughts and to lead the conversation to other topics, she looked at her cousin quizzically, "What do you know about these kings anyway? You've been here all the time, and were still recovering when they left."
A faint smile appeared on Faramir's face.
"Cousin, I may not have had a chance to see much of Lord Aragorn, but I know already that he is an exceptional man. What he did for me is no ordinary thing... I can't explain it, but when he called me and brought me back, I knew he was something I had never seen before, and someone I could follow to fire and death", he said slowly – she even spotted something like reverence in his voice. She had to believe him, because she knew Faramir's loyalty and esteem were not lightly given to anyone.
"As for the King Éomer", Faramir continued, "I have talked with his sister, Lady Éowyn of Rohan and also with Marshal Elfhelm who remains here in the city. I may not yet know their new King, but both his sister and his Marshal speak of him highly and with love. And the fact remains he rode here with his uncle the late King Théoden, and fought for us and joined his forces with us for the campaign to end Sauron. I can't think ill of a man like that."
"Hmm. All this talk about the man exhausts me. He's probably just some rude and insolent fellow who likes to shout at people", Lothíriel remarked and skewered a piece of chicken on her plate with force enough to send the fork through it, wishing for the conversation to move on to other topics already. But Faramir rolled his eyes and didn't seem too impressed by her words.
"If you met him, you'd be surprised to see how wrong you are", he said, but didn't pursue the matter any further than that. Rather, he asked about her battle training of late, which was a nice enough topic, and soon the two were fast discussing the intricacies of archery.
Still, it would have been a lie to say Lothíriel did not think any more of the King of Rohan on that night... or on many a night that came after.
Halfway through April, a word finally came that the Host of the West was on its way back to Minas Tirith.
"Finally!" Lothíriel exclaimed upon hearing these news, and her spirits were immediately restored, though her sister-in-law Aredhel, newly arrived from Dol Amroth, snorted and rolled her eyes. Waiting for her father and brothers to come home had been more than just a little frustrating even with Aredhel around, and most of the days she had wandered around like a sleepwalker. The most she had enjoyed herself had been when she went out riding or visited the training grounds in the barracks. Her handmaiden Bainiel and Aredhel had said she could try and spend her time in the company of noble ladies who had started to return into the city ever since the great battle before the walls of Minas Tirith, but Lothíriel had quickly discarded that idea. For one, she didn't really know the courtiers too well, and in any case what in the name of Elbereth should she have spoken of with them?
But still some days remained before the Host would reach the White City, and during that time such preparations were seen in Minas Tirith that Lothíriel suspected if there had ever been anything alike. Flowers were brought into the city, and the palace was made ready, and great feasts as well; the ladies of the court reportedly were quite desperate in their preparations too, trying to get their gowns and garments finished for the extensive celebrations that would doubtlessly last for days.
Altogether the atmosphere of the city was excited, for nothing like this had taken place in a very long time, and after years of fear and darkness celebration seemed more than welcome. So, on the day Isildur's Heir was set to enter the city, there was a great crowd not only at the gates but also lining the way all the way up to the Citadel. The princess herself only made it as far as the gates because of Faramir; he asked whether she'd like to come along to see her family arrive. Lothíriel had eagerly agreed, even though she knew just who would be there as well. But being the kind of situation this was, she figured the King of Rohan would not be able to approach her in the crowd. Chances were he wouldn't even spot her in the crowd and to blend in, she had dressed plainly and told her handmaiden no extravagancy was allowed today.
In the end, it turned out she was too hopeful... for almost as soon as the company of the Lord Aragorn had arrived and Faramir was welcoming him into the city, Lothíriel's own eyes sought out the tall golden-haired rider. At that same moment when she saw him, his eyes fixed on her as well, and the gaze of his dark eyes pierced her where she stood. And she knew he had recognised her, for why else would he keep her under his stare for so long? Seeing him there, sitting atop his great warhorse and wearing an aura of authority and command, she had to ask herself how had she ever mistaken him for a common rider.
And so firmly those eyes held her that Lothíriel was scarcely aware of anything else; looking at him, she could see he had hard time staying where was instead of just charging through the crowd. To herself, she wondered why this man had to be so damned intense, and why his gaze burned her so. Probably to annoy her, she mused.
But then, as she started to feel more and more awkward under that scrutinising gaze, Lothíriel suddenly couldn't help but make a face at him, completely unladylike and altogether rude. He seemed taken aback, and she had to look down and bite her lip hard in order not to snigger to herself – this was no place or time for this, and she wished Amrothos had been there to give her a good kick.
As soon as she had composed herself she looked up again and concentrated on Faramir and Lord Elfstone, though at the edge of her vision that insufferable king still remained, always threatening to pull her attention to himself. What an annoying fellow! Here she was, witnessing a historical moment, and this stupid golden-haired, loud-voiced, swim-loving, nonsensical ruffian had to be there to distract her!
Yet so it passed, rough-mannered princesses and their musings aside, that Isildur's Heir returned and King Elessar was welcomed into the city, and the age of the kings began; but as the great company rode past her Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth was making faces at the King Éomer of Rohan.
Amrothos had done magnificent job in keeping secret her little escapade in Ithilien, and her brothers and Father were quite happy to be reunited with her on that very same day when the Host returned to Minas Tirith. They were blissfully unaware of her brief visit to the Fields of Cormallen, and behind their backs Amrothos mouthed "you owe me."
About as soon as their father, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, was seated and had a drink in hand, Lothíriel practically flew to his side.
"Now I'd like to hear everything", she announced, which made her father smile.
"Everything, daughter? Surely the news from Cormallen have already arrived here in more exhaustive quantities than you could ever hope for", he said lightly.
"Well, I've not heard your version, Father!" Lothíriel answered nonchalantly.
"You don't know how miserable she has been here in Minas Tirith, Father Imrahil", Aredhel put in. "At times I even wished you might have taken her along when you rode for the Black Gate!"
"Oh, dearest daughter, what am I ever going to do with you?" sighed Father helplessly. He shook his head, but then took a sip of his drink and began to describe the events leading to and following the battle before the gate of the Land of Shadow. Though she knew all had turned out well and her father was sitting there beside her, the story still chilled her heart at some points, and it was dreadful to know how close the devastation of the West had been. Elphir and Erchirion made comments every now and then to fill some gaps or tell of things they had seen take place.
"But after the victory there is not really too much to tell", Father said then, having explained what had happened on the battlefield. "Most time we have spent resting and healing, as there were many wounded who couldn't be moved too far. It has been quite peaceful and pleasant, and I'm afraid you would have soon got bored."
"And you've heard of no disturbances?" Lothíriel asked carefully. She should probably know if anything of her encounter with the King of Rohan had come to his ears.
"Just some minor things, a few orc sightings and some brawls. Our good friend, King Éomer and his men, kept the most vigilant guard around the camp", Father said. He sat up straighter, "Speaking of him, I was thinking I could perhaps introduce you to him tonight. I understand there's going to be a gathering at the palace in the honour of the King Elessar."
"But no, Father!" Lothíriel argued quickly. "I mean, shouldn't we have a nice and quiet supper together, or something like that? It's been months since we all were together."
"I know you have your opinions about the society but even you never preferred quiet supper over proper court gatherings", Erchirion pointed out, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"It's probably going to be very dull", she answered, trying for an unaffected tone.
"Nonsense. A celebration like this has not been seen in hundreds of years, and the return of the King is not a small matter. We should all join the ball tonight to pay our respect to King Elessar", Father said calmly.
Seeing that arguing further would only make Father curious as to why was she being so reluctant, and so Lothíriel forced a smile on her face. She spoke, "Of course. I'll... I'll just go and see if I have anything to put on."
He smiled now too and gave a kiss to her forehead, and Lothíriel exited the scene, trying not to look like she was in much of a hurry.
Like all members of the family, she had her own chamber in the House of Princes. Over the years she had not much changed it. The furniture was the same light kind one could see in other rooms of the house, and sunlight streamed in from the large windows framed by blue curtains. Evidently the man who had designed the building had liked to let in as much sun as he could get. Lothíriel would perhaps have preferred something else, maybe some deeper and richer colours and more of the play of light and shadow, but on the other hand she wasn't particularly gifted in redecorating.
Now she fell on her stomach on the bed and groaned in frustration. What was she supposed to do here? Her little show at the gates had ruined even her last and pitiful chances of being able to meet King Éomer without shaming herself and her father. What had she been even thinking?!
She was in the middle of considering the benefits of hitting her head against something hard when Amrothos wandered in. She paid no heed to him, however.
"I take it this all is about the King of Rohan?" he asked lightly, settling down on her dressing table's chair.
"The man drives me crazy. What am I supposed to do here, Amrothos?" Lothíriel wailed, rolling over on her back.
"You could go and meet him tonight", he offered. "I'm sure he has already forgotten about you, like we hoped."
"No!" she exclaimed and glared at him. "I can't meet him!"
Her brother frowned at her outburst.
"Why not? Why are you so against settling this for good?" he inquired, watching her with narrowed eyes.
For a moment, Lothíriel considered not telling him. No one needn't know of how she had embarrassed herself. Perhaps she could run back to Dol Amroth tomorrow... and if it ever came to that she'd have to face the King of the horselords again, she'd worry about it then. However, as she looked again at her brother, she knew she couldn't keep this from him. For one, Amrothos had an annoying way of fishing out things he wanted to know, and the more she thought of this the more convinced she became there was no way she could avoid the horselord without some help.
So, sighing heavily, she sat up on the bed and briefly made clear what had happened at the river. As Amrothos' eyes began to widen along the story's progression, Lothíriel had to look away, and she felt her cheeks heating up. It had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever done.
When the words at last were out she bowed her head and couldn't decide which she wanted more: to throw up or punch herself. Amrothos remained silent for a while before speaking up.
"Well", he said at last in a strained voice, "You have outdone yourself this time, sister. That's for sure at least."
"I know that! I don't need your opinions or ridicule – I need you to help me to avoid this man to the end of the world!" she said pitifully. Amrothos bounced to sit on the bed opposite her.
"Really, it's not that bad. Maybe you should just go and apologise to him? Tell him the truth?" he tried gently.
"Amrothos -" she started in a dangerous voice, and he picked up the significance of that tone quickly enough.
"All right, all right. You don't have to murder me", he told her promptly. Leaning back, he frowned and scratched his chin, "It's just that if you're seriously meaning to avoid him... it's not going to be easy. Not at all."
"But we have to come up with something!" she said desperately, and he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"Do you think you could just pretend you don't know him? Make him think you just have some crazy twin out there?" he offered.
"He'd never buy that lie. Not now. He had too good a look on my face by the river – he'd know I was lying", Lothíriel said miserably. Perhaps, if they hadn't shared that uncomfortable encounter by the river, Amrothos' idea might have worked.
"Well, the chances are he'd only know your legs", he said pointedly, which made Lothíriel hit him with a pillow.
"That's not funny!" she snapped angrily. He quickly organised a more sombre expression on his features.
"Sorry, sister", he said. Resting his chin on his hand, he went on, "Didn't we agree you'd tread more carefully with the man? That encounter by the river sounds everything but careful."
Lothíriel felt frustrated. Her brother had a point and she couldn't think of anything to make it sound less nonsensical. Had she acted meek and mild, she might have been able to avoid the man's attention. However, her demeanour of a madwoman had likely only succeeded in making a lasting impression.
"I know! I just... I couldn't really do anything about it, brother. It was all just so unreal and stupid and he wasn't supposed to be there, and I couldn't..." she groaned, rubbing her temples wearily. "He's so annoying!"
"You're very likely the only noblewoman in Gondor to think that", Amrothos said dryly. Scratching his nose, he thought out loud, "Obviously if we go with Father he'll drag you to meet the man. We'll just have to come up with something so that we can come a bit later. You should put some effort to how you look, I think. He has only seen your wild appearance, hasn't he? And to be honest, I believe he'll be too surrounded by the unmarried ladies to really have any time to pay attention to anything else. Just stay out of his way and you'll be fine."
"Are you sure that's going to work?" Lothíriel asked doubtfully.
"It's going to be a large celebration. As long as you're careful, it'll be all right", insisted her brother and gave her a comforting smile.
"And what if Father insists I meet this king?" she asked and felt again the urge to kick herself for managing to create such an idiotic situation.
"We'll worry about that later, sister", Amrothos said calmingly. "And there's always the alternative of going back to Dol Amroth."
"I will only leave this city as a last resort", announced the princess, which brought an exasperated look on the face of her brother.
"You're completely absurd, sister", he told her. She made a face at him.
"Oh, I know."
The two of them heard the multitude of voices chattering away well before they entered the hall of Merethrond. As planned, the majority of quests had already arrived by the time Amrothos and Lothíriel made their way in. Indeed, the crowd was larger than anything she had ever seen. It truly appeared that all the nobility in the land was participating this celebration.
She felt a slight shiver run down her spine as they stepped in and scanned the host of guests. Quickly her eyes found what she sought: the King of Rohan was blissfully surrounded by what looked like hopeful fathers of noble unmarried ladies... of which there also appeared to be an abundance. He was easily spotted, though, for he stood taller than any of them, and his long golden hair shone in the light of lamps and candles. As her heart settled she decided she could attend this celebration without a fear of him having a chance to notice her.
"This would be a good chance of going to talk to him and apologise", Amrothos muttered to her under his breath.
"Brother, we've already talked about this", she said firmly, which made him sigh.
"Well, it's not going to be my fault if he notices you anyway", he answered. Lothíriel would have retorted something devastatingly clever and stinging to that, but then Faramir arrived to greet them, smiling slightly at the sight of his two cousins.
"There you are at last. I was starting to wonder whether you'd come at all", he said warmly. To Lothíriel he gave a kiss on her cheek and patted Amrothos' shoulder. After exchanging the news and some pleasantries, he inquired, "Now, would you like to come with me? I could introduce you to King Elessar and King Éomer, our honoured guest."
Lothíriel let out an awkward little laugh.
"He seems rather preoccupied at the moment. Perhaps later", she said quickly.
"Yes, the man appears to have met enough noble ladies for one night", Amrothos agreed helpfully.
Faramir glanced at the King of Rohan and then considered the two siblings, wearing an expression Lothíriel couldn't read, which worried her. But then he nodded and even smiled slightly.
"As you wish, then", he agreed. He spoke: "Tell me at least you'll come and meet King Elessar?"
"Lead the way, cousin!" Lothíriel said – she really didn't want to cause any suspicion here, and the last thing she needed was Faramir meddling with the matter. She'd have to be extremely careful with him, considering the things they said about him and Lady Éowyn. That would certainly become a problem sooner or later, but she decided to worry about it later.
King Elessar proved to be a pleasant, soft-spoken man whose eyes held wisdom and warmth. Yet even so, one never forgot the strength emanating from him. To her slight surprise Lothíriel realised it oddly reminded her of the King of Rohan, though in the annoying horselord's case it was of wilder kind. Still, altogether it seemed to her that Gondor had received a great gift in this man and looking at him, she felt reassured.
Then Father arrived, accompanied by Elphir and Aredhel. They, along with Erchirion, had come a bit earlier than Amrothos and Lothíriel (apparently her brother had told him she was having some womanly maladies in order to avoid having him insist they meet the King of horselords; she had seriously considered kicking Amrothos for that), and appeared to already have made the necessary courtesy round of meeting friends and relatives.
"So you decided to come after all! Amrothos said you were not feeling good enough to attend to the celebration", Father said with a lift of his eyebrows.
"It's fine, I feel so much better now, Father", she simpered quickly, but the note of her voice sounded fake even to herself.
"I hope you're not ill, Princess?" asked Elessar, his brow creasing with concern.
"Not at all, my lord. Like I said, I am well", Lothíriel quickly insisted, even managing a smile for him.
"That is good. This would be a unfortunate time to be sick, my lady, when all the others are out celebrating", he said and his expression softened.
"Perhaps this would also be a good time for me to introduce you to King Éomer? I would like you to meet him", Father said then.
That nearly turned her smile into a cringe. Father didn't seem to notice, but King Elessar's eyes narrowed just slightly and he regarded her silently, as though reading her mind.
"I'll just get something to drink first, Father", she said awkwardly, and before he could protest she curtsied to Elessar and swiftly fled the company.
It was Aredhel who shortly found her hiding behind some pillars. Though the two women could not have been more different, over the years Aredhel had often been to Lothíriel like an older sister. For one, her brother's wife handled her position with grace the younger of the two could only dream of, and her sister-in-law was calm and gentle in nature. However, it was her who usually saw through Lothíriel with accuracy others did not quite possess.
"There you are", said Aredhel when she spotted the princess behind the pillars. "What's this about?"
"Um, nothing at all. I just, hmm, needed a moment alone", Lothíriel said quickly. Her sister-in-law didn't seem too convinced.
"Tell me the truth, Lothíriel. Is something wrong?" Aredhel asked steadily. Though by Amrothian standards she was of small build, she possessed strange kind of authority that usually made people want to obey her. It wasn't often that she used this commanding tone but whenever she did, it was usually very effective.
"I just... I didn't want to be introduced to the King of Rohan", Lothíriel answered in a strained voice. Aredhel frowned in confusion.
"Why not? I found him to be perfectly charming when Father Imrahil introduced us. He's not some ogre, sister", she pointed out.
"I know. But I can't face him, Aredhel. He'd know me, and... oh, Elbereth! This just keeps getting worse and worse", wailed the princess. The frown on her sister-in-law's face became now deeper.
"Lothíriel, is there something you would like to tell me?" Aredhel asked, her tone now becoming softer and gentler.
Briefly, the younger woman considered just blurting out the truth about the unfortunate encounters with the King of the horselords. But even thinking of it embarrassed her. Perhaps Amrothos had been right in saying she should just run off to Dol Amroth and hide there... to the end of the world, it was starting to look like.
This is ridiculous.
"I really can't. Not now at least. I'm sorry, Aredhel", she mumbled tiredly. It already felt like the night had been long and exhausting, even though she had only been here for less than an hour.
Her answer did nothing for her sister-in-law's suspicions and the look in her eyes made Lothíriel fear Aredhel would just go and grill Amrothos for answers. She'd have to make sure he'd not spill out any unpleasant stories.
"You are being awfully strange, Lothíriel", said Aredhel in a slightly accusing voice.
"Oh, I'm very aware of that. But strange is the ordinary state of matters for me, as you know", she muttered moodily and sighed. "I need to go and find Amrothos."
"Very well. I'll let you keep your secret for now, but whatever it is and how it pertains to the King Éomer, you can rest assured you won't be able to avoid him endlessly", said the older woman solemnly.
"I know", Lothíriel answered, cringing in frustration. "I'll think of something, but now I really need to talk with my brother."
But as she stepped from behind those sheltering pillars and sought the crowd for Amrothos, it wasn't the face of her sibling that drew her attention... instead, it was a pair of dark eyes that locked with hers, staring at her from the other side of the hall. Though she had made every effort to appear lady-like tonight, she could tell from his expression he recognised her.
Lothíriel muttered a curse under her breath, and then the King of Rohan started to make his way through the crowd towards her.
Damn.
Being a member of the royal House of Eorl and a famous warrior, Éomer had always enjoyed certain prestige among the womenfolk. Unmarried maidens certainly had an eye for him – and so did some wedded wives as well (though he knew better than to go down that road). In other words, usually it was that passionate ladies ran after him – something that had only increased now that he was king – not from him.
So, when he saw the strange archer woman flee through the crowd he did feel certain degree of bemusement. It was not behaviour he was familiar with and it truly did perplex him, because the mystery of this lady only continued to grow. What was she anyway? A peasant, a bandit, a noblewoman? First she appeared dishevelled and wearing breeches in the woods, and then nearly naked by a riverbank, and now she was in the middle of a crowd of lords and ladies of Gondor.
By the time he got to where he had seen her, the strange woman was already long gone... and he wasn't sure why, but he felt intensely disappointed that she had once again escaped him.
Then a hand came in contact with his forearm, and Éomer turned to see his sister next to him. Éowyn looked so much better now: a healthy glow had returned to her face and there was light in her eyes. Every time he saw that look on her face he felt great relief but also gratefulness, for he loved his sister very much, and her despair had concerned him.
"Is something amiss, brother?" she asked. As always, she could read him like no one else.
"There was just... remember that woman I told you about before? She was here", he answered quietly. Knowing it was folly to try and conceal things from her he had already told Éowyn of the odd encounters with the strange archer. Well, he had left out some things, like the naked part of the chance meeting at the river, though he had a feeling Éowyn suspected something anyway.
Now she lifted her eyebrows.
"I thought you said she was probably some peasant running wild", she pointed out.
"That's what I thought before. But how would a peasant be here tonight?" he asked.
"Maybe she sneaked in. She certainly sounds like someone who would do that", Éowyn offered.
"Aye", he agreed softly. A frown came to his face as he thought of how she had looked like when he had spotted her among the crowd. She had seemed like an actual lady... rather lovely even. "There is something familiar about her. I wish I knew what it was."
"We will be staying in Mundburg for some more time. Maybe you'll see her again, and find out who she is", Éowyn said gently. She smiled at him then, "Come along, brother. There are plenty of ladies here who aren't going to run away from you. Perhaps you should appreciate that?"
The young king grumbled.
"As it happens I'd rather they would be the ones to run", he muttered. But then he gave her a half-smile, "Do you think they would if I drank myself silly?"
"You wouldn't do that to me", Éowyn said nonchalantly, linked her arm with his, and pulled him with her to meet yet another nobleman he wouldn't probably remember afterwards.
And he kept glancing about for the rest of the night... but the grey eyes he hoped to see were not to there.
A/N: So, we have now reached Minas Tirith. I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but felt it was necessary. Lothíriel is still under the impression she can actually avoid meeting Éomer officially, but what she hasn't realised is that her reluctance to just face him will likely make it only worse. Well, she's stubborn and needs to figure out things on her own terms - and the effect he has on her doesn't really help with clear-headedness. I'm not sure either of them are really good at being too rational when it comes to each other, considering the circumstances of their encounters so far. But perhaps in the next chapter we'll see things advance a bit!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thanks for reading!
Quote in the beginning originally by William Shakespeare in "Measure for Measure".
Le Pleiade - And I did enjoy writing that! I seem to have a thing for Éomer and Lothíriel getting caught in scenes like that. :D
annafan - Thanks for your comments! I must say you did reassure me that this version of Lothíriel is fine. :) Sometimes I get ridiculously worried over things like that.
Also thanks for language help! I'm not a native speaker and I try to stick to British English, but spending too much American English media has probably ruined me, and sometimes I make these mistakes. So any comments on my grammar and vocabulary are welcomed.
Glory Bee - I'm always glad to hear someone reads my ramblings in Author's Notes. :) And good to hear you liked that scene!
Talia119 - Yes, it does make sense to me as well that having three brothers would have that kind of an effect. Not to mention this version of Lothíriel is very enjoyable to write.
As for Amrothos, I'm thinking it's probably just that Imrahil didn't want to take all his children to face the danger. Partly it might have been because of Lothíriel. He probably felt she'd only feel worse if she was the only one left behind. He was hoping she and Amrothos would take care of each other, in case things went south.
Are you planning to publish that story?
Sandy-wmd - Oh, he's probably very right in that. But Lothíriel is stubborn, and like I said, she needs to figure out these things on her own.
siny - Happy to hear that! I am very glad to hear you so enjoy my stories, and hopefully you'll continue to like this. :)