My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,
My gentle guide, in following thee. ― Gilmith of Dol Amroth

Chapter 34

Another fair day had come to grace the city of Pelargir when Éowyn woke up in her chamber in the house of Lady Ivriniel of Dol Amroth. These slow mornings had been necessary, though she was starting to feel like moving on already. But then, this was not about her, and the knowledge Faramir should be on his way even now did calm her. It would be only a day or two before he'd arrive here along with Queen Arwen and Prince Imrahil.

The thought of her husband had Éowyn sighing in delight and she stretched on the bed, eager for the moment she would see Faramir again. Then after lingering there for one moment more she got up and began to dress.

On her way to breakfast she stopped by her brother's door to listen. Whether the two lovers were awake yet or just enjoying the quiet moment of morning she couldn't tell, and she wasn't going to try and find out. For one, that was not how she wanted to see him or Lothíriel. Last night, when she had come to check up on Éomer, she had heard them... and knowing Erchirion should not find out, she had quickly returned to the parlour and informed them Éomer had already gone to bed. That she had not awakened into any screaming and bloodshed should mean that the prince remained unaware of just where his sister had spent the night.

She went on and joined Aragorn for breakfast. He was skimming through some book that came from the modest library of the house. When she arrived, he looked up and smiled.

"Good morning, my friend", he greeted her.

"Good morning to you as well", Éowyn replied and sat down. Medliel appeared as though from nowhere with a fresh pot of tea and poured her some, and the Lady of Ithilien gave the servant a smile with her thanks.

"It is a quiet morning. Have you seen your brother or Lothíriel?" Aragorn asked when Medliel had gone, leaving them alone. Éowyn did not answer his question right away – instead, she sat quiet and tried to decide what she should tell him. But in the end it was clear she couldn't hold from him the truth. In any case she'd need his help if Erchirion did find out, and she had a feeling Aragorn might very well know already what was the extent of the relationship between his fellow king and the Princess of Dol Amroth. After all, few things escaped his notice.

"I do not think they are going to join us this morning", she said carefully at last.

"Why is that?" he wondered out loud.

"It seemed to me they were, hmm... too busy renewing their romance. It will probably take a while before they're done with that", she said. Aragorn blinked, but he didn't seem terribly surprised.

"That is... well. We mustn't disturb them, in that case", he said delicately.

"You knew, then?" Éowyn asked, her voice falling lower. Her friend hesitated before answering.

"I had my suspicions. Your brother is rather obvious about what he feels for her. And perhaps it is good for them both. That kind of closeness can be a very healing experience", he replied at length. She considered his words for a moment and decided he was right in that.

"Still, I must wonder. Shouldn't you as the King be very appalled? She's a daughter of your mightiest vassal, after all", she remarked. He smiled faintly.

"Your brother is a good friend of mine. I have no interest in trying to make things more difficult for him, especially now. Not to mention he'd never let me hear the end of it. And Lothíriel..." Aragorn said. A small cringe had come to his face. "She'd be furious and probably burn down the Citadel."

"The Citadel is made of stone, if I might remind you", Éowyn pointed out.

"And that would stop her? She'd find a way", he snorted, shaking his head.

"Aye. She would do that. None of us wants to see the rampage she would go on", she agreed and let out a small laugh. Éowyn sighed then, "Trust the two of them to do something like that. My brother never had much self-control when it comes to her, and she is just as bad."

"I thought Rohirrim had no qualms about love affairs", Aragorn stated, his eyes twinkling with some amusement. Now she gave him a crooked smile.

"We don't. I'm thinking of your Gondorian sensitivities here. Or Erchirion's, to be precise", Éowyn said, frowning slightly. "Which is why I we may have to distract him somehow when he wakes up and joins us. He wouldn't handle it very well if he knew. I don't think we should let him find his sister in a bed with a man, even if that man has promised to marry her."

"Hmm. You're likely right about that. I do not believe Prince Erchirion would treat the matter with much understanding... he hides it well, but he is rather protective of his sister", Aragorn said, his brow creasing. "Perhaps I should speak with Éomer too. Tell him to cool off his heels for now – or make the vows of marriage as soon as possible."

"Oh, yes", Éowyn agreed, nodding empathetically. "I do believe we should spare Imrahil from the event of his daughter bearing children outside the wedlock."

Having reached an understanding in this matter, she felt reassured and returned to her breakfast. Conversations turned to other matters then, which was for the better, as that was just when Erchirion arrived. Yawning he sat down at the table and bid good morning to the others. He asked of Lothíriel too, but Éowyn said she was still sleeping - the answer seemed to satisfy the prince and he dug into his breakfast.

Éowyn let out a small breath, so quiet that he would not notice it. Hopefully the matter would be settled for good soon, and Erchirion and Prince Imrahil could both retain their peace of mind.

Hopefully along with new beginnings it was a wedding that would wait them in Minas Tirith.

The light of day grew and eventually pierced the gentle shadows of dreams. Slowly, Éomer drifted back to the waking world and the first thought in his sleepy mind was of how he could not recall the last time he had slept so peacefully... or when he had felt so contented, both physically and mentally.

The reason for that peace was still asleep in his arms. Her head lay on his shoulder, one of her arms rested on his chest, and she had wedged one leg between his. That she lay there, curled up against him and breathing steadily, was somehow tremendously calming. For the longest time, he could but lay still and watch her... and think in wonder how very lucky he was to have her.

She shifted then, yawning softly, and opened her eyes. Her hair was a messy cloud about her face and she looked to be only half awake, and still the sight of her made breath catch in his throat.

Lothíriel rubbed sleep from her eyes and smiled at him.

"Good morning", she murmured, her voice thick and heavy.

"Good morning to you as well", he replied and leaned closer to kiss her. She returned that kiss, in which they lingered for a while. World was far away and here existed nothing but this golden moment.

But the reality had its demands on them, and so Lothíriel pulled back. A slight crease formed on her forehead.

"I should get dressed and sneak away. It's very late already, and we should spare everyone from the event of having to find me in your bed", she said, and though Éomer knew she was right, he was not quite so willing to see her gone yet. So he rolled on the top of her and stole another kiss.

"What if I won't let you go?" he asked, his heart swelling with adoration for her; Lothíriel's eyes sparkled and she rested her hands on his neck.

"I will have to come up with something to persuade you then, don't you think?" she asked.

"Mm. And you are quite persuasive", he murmured and kissed her again, slowly this time. She let it go for a while, until she made use of his distraction and rolled him on his back.

"As much as I'd like to stay, I really do have to go", Lothíriel said quietly. He frowned and would have argued, but her lips on his made that impossible. When she ended the kiss she pulled back only very slightly, giving him a sly smile. "But I promise we'll continue from that tonight."

"Like I said. You are persuasive", Éomer stated with a slight smile as he watched her get up and search for her clothes. The morning light gave shine to her skin and he loved the way it danced on her slender, strong limbs. This all was so easy when it was just her with him... if only it had been possible for him to wish away the world!

His beloved winked at him, unaware of his thoughts.

"It's a natural gift", she told him coyly, blew him a kiss, and tiptoed away lightly, making no sound as she went. Then Lothíriel was gone and the sweet peace with her... but with the memory of her kisses and warmth on his skin, all the shadows were rather bearable.

Aragorn was nothing if not resourceful and ingenious. Of this Éomer was reminded once again before the day had barely started to turn into afternoon, for Éowyn came and told him that his fellow king wanted to see him in the courtyard. Thinking something was amiss, he went outside.

Instead of seeing anything that might speak of trouble, he perceived his friend with two horses.

"There you are, my friend. What do you think of these?" asked Aragorn, smiling as he spoke. The Rohir stepped closer to regard the two animals. Both horses prickled their ears and looked at him curiously, but perhaps they knew a horseman when they saw one, and so remained calm.

"They are adequate", he said at length, "for Gondorian horses."

His friend let out a soft laugh.

"You Eorlingas and your standards", he said lightly.

"Where would I have ever got in my life if I didn't have any?" Éomer surmised. He reached to pat the neck of the chestnut gelding and the animal whinnied softly. He asked, "Where did you get these?"

"Erchirion was kind enough to purchase these two. I was thinking maybe you'd like to come for a ride with me?" Aragorn inquired. That did sound inviting, and without a moment's hesitation the younger man agreed.

Getting outside the city took a while as Aragorn lead them some rather peculiar ways through it, and Éomer quickly realised this was because he was trying to avoid the more crowded streets. He didn't know whether he should feel thankful for the peace or pessimistic for his friend's obvious concern. He did not have to consider that too long, however – as soon as they got out of the city and had nothing but the open road before them, he cast aside all gloomy thoughts.

He urged his steed into a gallop, easing his hold of the reins, and rode. The wind whipped at his face and the movements of the animal under him were soothing in their familiarity. When had he last really ridden without a concern on his heart? Like most things, it was as though a thing of distant past.

Aragorn had difficult time keeping up and eventually he fell behind, and so engrossed in this moment Éomer was that it took a moment for him to notice his friend wasn't riding beside him anymore. To let his friend catch up with him and to allow his horse to cool down, he slowed down to gentle trot, and soon the King of Reunited Kingdom came to his side again.

"Enjoying yourself?" Aragorn asked, smiling as he spoke.

"Aye. I've missed this", Éomer answered. Among many other things.

He looked solemnly at his friend, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, brother", said the older man warmly, and in his grey eyes there was a friendly glitter.

For a while, they rode on in silence. It felt not at all unpleasant, to just breathe a little of quiet companionship. But after some time Éomer glanced at his friend and took note of the expression Aragorn's face. He knew it for the kind that meant there was something on his fellow king's mind.

"Well? What is it?" he asked. His question made Aragorn smile faintly as he glanced back.

"I'm that obvious? But then, pretenses rarely work on you..." he said softly. A slight frown came to his brow and he spoke again: "You know, it would be an honour both to me and my queen if you gave the cloak to Lothíriel in Minas Tirith. She'd like it very much, I imagine, and we would be glad to host your wedding."

The Rohir looked ahead and found himself unsure of what to say.

"Aye, she would like it. And I thank you for your offer", he agreed eventually.

"Brother, what is between you and her is not my business, and if her love can help you, then that is all for the better. But you'd do well to marry her soon. It would be the right thing to do, particularly considering her family and Imrahil her father", Aragorn said at length. All that was well and true, and especially the implications about Imrahil's possible reactions were quite clear to Éomer. The Prince of Dol Amroth was his friend but it might not endure the knowledge his daughter had already shared the bed of her betrothed.

"Hmm. Perhaps in Mundburg", he said slowly.

Aragorn apparently recognised the topic was not worth pursuing for now, so he did not say more about it then. Instead, they rode on again in silence. However now the younger man was feeling troubled, though he did his best to hide it.

"There will be much to do when we've all gone home. But that is perhaps not altogether bad. It'll take a while to readjust to it, yes... but to build and mend and work is better than sitting idly", Aragorn said after another moment of silence. He glanced at the Rohir riding beside him, "Your sister tells me she would come with you to the Mark, if you wish so. Faramir will perhaps be not so happy with that arrangement, but he'll understand if you think it's necessary."

"I wouldn't want to keep her from her own home, or from her husband", Éomer said quietly. He thought of home then and all that awaited there...

The Mark. Thinking of his land did not bring him longing, as one would have thought it would. Well, he did wish to see the great plains and the endless sky, hear the songs and voices of Eorlingas, but there was something more powerful drowning that wish. Instead, the idea of being a king again ruled over all homesickness and filled him with anxiety... at least now it didn't bring him such panicky feeling and he could handle it, but he still felt concerned when he thought of ruling his kingdom.

It's in the hands of my Marshals. They will look after Rohan, he reminded himself. And that thought...

It grew, especially when he glanced at Aragorn. And the directions it took would have scared him senseless if he had not lived through the south.

What road should I take?

He did not get a chance to pursue that thought, which was probably for the better, for his friend spoke up then.

"Shall we turn back, brother?" asked the older man. Éomer readily agreed.

That afternoon Lothíriel took some time with her bow in the courtyard, to try out new arrows she had purchased when she and Éowyn had gone to get some new clothing for her beloved. She had lost all her arrows in the shipwreck so acquiring new had been a pressing matter, even though they were on Gondorian soil now. But since the journey south, she had felt somehow naked without being armed with her bow and arrows.

She had thought to have lost her bow in the shipwreck and she had rued it, but when they had boarded her brother's ship, Éowyn revealed she had saved it from the ruin of Captain Cairon's ship. For that Lothíriel was tremendously grateful, for this was not a bow she could replace. New blades and arrows she could get but even if it had not been Elven-made, the bow had value beyond that: it had been a betrothal gift from Legolas her friend.

It was good to be practising her archery again and as a result she was so engrossed that she only interrupted it when Éomer and Aragorn returned – though she trusted her skill, the first lesson of the art of archery had been to be careful when ever people were around during her training – and after she had hugged her beloved he went on to the stables to look after the horses. She concentrated on her bow again, but did not have a chance to go on for long when Erchirion's voice spoke up from behind her.

"You and that bow... sometimes I think there is more Elf in you than mortal blood", he said, and turning to glance at him over her shoulder she saw him half-smiling.

"Mithrellas went over the Sea long ago, and her children have been gone for almost a thousand years", she commented.

"Maybe so. But some of her descendants may be more like her than the others", replied her brother. He stepped closer, "There is something I'd like to speak of with you, sister."

"Of course", Lothíriel said, and they sat on a round bench about the tree that stood in the middle of the courtyard. In spring and summer it'd flower and fill the house with sweet fragrance, but autumn was approaching and the flowers had fallen, to be chased away by the wind.

"What do you mean to do when we've reached Minas Tirith?" Erchirion asked at last when they were seated.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to deal with all the formalities and celebrations, but after that I'm hoping to travel to Rohan. I was thinking maybe the wedding could take place in Minas Tirith, even though Éomer's people would like us to get married in Meduseld. But we have already waited for so long, and I think it would do him good to get this over with", she answered, glancing at her brother and wondering what this was about really.

Erchirion sighed.

"I was afraid you'd say that", he muttered quietly, and his words made her frown.

"Why is that, brother? You sound like you think it's bad that I'm going to marry him", she said, her brow creasing.

"In all honesty, I do not know if it is a good idea anymore", he said gingerly. "Lothíriel, since we found you two on that shore I've been watching the both of you, and I must say it has been most enlightening. It has made me wonder quite seriously if your marriage to him would really be in your best interests."

Lothíriel blinked. For a moment she regarded her brother and thought to herself if this was some absurd joke. But even as she stared at Erchirion his expression remained sober, and anyway she could not understand how something like this could be funny to him.

"What in the world did give you such a nonsensical idea, brother?" she asked, trying had to keep her voice steady. He was her brother and she owed him the benefit of doubt.

"Like I said, I've kept my eyes open and watched. And what I've seen troubles me deeply. Sister, when Father gets here, I fully intend to tell everything to him and ask him to reconsider his blessing your marriage", he said, speaking far too calmly for a man who apparently harboured a wish to take away the most important thing in her life.

"Erchirion! You can't really be thinking of doing something like that!" she exclaimed. This was her brother and that meant she shouldn't strangle him right there before at least giving him the courtesy of listening to why he'd think like this.

"Please, sister. You must consider this with reason. Just look at him! He's unstable and unpredictable and violent. That is not a husband for any woman and least of all to my only sister. Surely you must see that?" he asked, reaching for her hand as though that would help to get his point through, but she flinched from him.

"So now you're saying he'd hurt me?! How can you say something like that? How dare you even imply that he'd ever do anything to harm me?" she asked angrily. "I appreciate your concern, but this is none of your business. It's my choice – not Father's, and certainly not yours!"

"Yes, it's your choice, but have you considered you're not thinking of it clearly?" Erchirion asked, trying for a gentler tone now.

"What makes you think this has anything to do with logic? Erchirion, they kept him in a cage and tormented him! Does that sound rational to you? And he's only just started to recover from it! Do you have any idea what it could do to him if I abandoned him now?" she ranted, practically seething at this point.

"You're not responsible for him, sister", he said softly.

"Maybe not in your eyes, or anyone else's. But if I left him now, I would never forgive myself", she snapped, torn between hurt that he'd suggest something like this and anger for the sake of her beloved.

"Lothíriel, you could consider finding someone -" Erchirion started, but she saw where he would go if she'd let him finish, and so she jumped up. She spoke loudly now and the courtyard echoed with her voice.

"He's not replaceable! And even if it was somehow possible for me to turn my heart from him, do you really think anyone else would ever compare?" she demanded. Her mind blazed with anger and she glared at her brother, loathing him for bringing up this topic. "I will not hear more of this. And do not think I will ever forgive you, if you try to separate me from the one I love."

He paled noticeably and looked startled, but he spoke no more. Instead, Erchirion made his exit in silence, and Lothíriel was left to try and cool off her anger with her bow.

The day had given Éomer much food for thought. Most of those thoughts were troubled, tormenting things that twisted his insides, but perhaps the fact he had been able to retain his calm proved he had started to heal indeed. Maybe that was what had allowed him to stay quiet in the stables, listening to the voices of Lothíriel and her brother.

Afterwards, he had walked through the courtyard and the house as though in some kind of a haze. She had not noticed him, what with her furious bout of archery. But Medliel made way to him quickly, as though she saw something on his face that alarmed her. At any rate he made it into his chamber and he locked the door behind himself. Only then did he allow himself to think – and to feel.

The talk with Aragorn had first roused the idea, but the conversation in the courtyard had made it full-grown. He could see it now, all of it: the future expanding before him. The travel to Minas Tirith, the painful inevitable, going home alone... and the long joyless days that came one after the other until he could not take it anymore. And he wanted none of it.

Erchirion was not wrong. He was unstable, and perhaps he was unpredictable and violent too. All of those were poor qualities in a king, for how could he rule his people if he couldn't even rule himself? And the Mark deserved more than that. If he should go back... try and be the man he was not anymore... the more he considered it the more he was certain then he would fall for good, and the door of the cage would be shut for ever.

That brought him a feeling he recognised as dangerously anxious and quickly he tried to grasp at something to stay calm. He thought of her, his beloved princess – he had heard her when she had shouted at her brother. No, Lothíriel would not have any of it. Even if her father or Aragorn or Béma himself came to tell her to let go, she wouldn't. He could trust her. She was Lioness, after all.

She knows I need her.

But those were entirely selfish thoughts and he had to regard this objectively. Not just objectively, however – he had to consider what was the best for Lothíriel.

And try as he might, Éomer could not see an outcome where her staying with him would be good for her. It was right what he had told her. She did deserve so much more than this... and she should not have to bear his burdens. For truth was as long as he remained close to her, she would try and carry those burdens for him. Erchirion was not wrong to worry for her, even if it was complete nonsense to even imply that Éomer would ever harm Lothíriel in any way.

It was easy to see how it'd go: when Imrahil came, Erchirion would speak of it to him anyway, no matter what she said. Éomer had always held her family in high regard and had thought they returned the sentiment... so if Erchirion thought so of him, then surely the Prince would agree as well, and he'd demand the wedding be cancelled. Imagining that event was too painful, as was the idea of never seeing her again. How am I supposed to let go of her?

But he could, if he had to – if it was in her best interest.

Letting go... not just of her, but everything.

And that was the choice he had. It was difficult and perhaps it would break both their hearts, but it was still easier than what would be if he did not do this now. For if he acted this moment – if he cut loose himself before it was too late – he could still spare them both from the pain and humiliation of annulling the betrothal.

After that... the only thing was a road of shadows, a path without a destination. It was not much, but it was more than trying to be again what he wasn't. It was better than finally succumbing to that which he had fought in the south. And he could not let Sapat have this, even if the man was dead.

It came to him as quickly and abruptly as when he had been bathing, only this time it was that much worse. He fell back, stumbling clumsily until he hit the wall, and there he shrivelled down. He felt like choking and gasps trying for air did not help; and when Éomer closed his eyes to make it go away he saw the cage again.

There it was waiting for him, and the memory became more than tangible. Hands grabbing him from behind, imprisoning his arms, and pulling him towards that prison – the sun scorching his back and blinding him, the thirst, the lashes of whip, thongs of leather digging into his flesh mercilessly... no, not again, no please no...

It was close then, closer than it had ever been. The abyss spread below him and the only thing that still had him grasping was what healing there had been these past few weeks. So he clung to that, to small moments that had made him glad he still lived. And there was a thought of Lothíriel, her patience and steadiness, her eyes which did not bear anything but love for him.

Eventually he was able to calm down. His breaths evened, the spinning in his head stopped, and the cage was gone. He was in Pelargir, huddled on the floor of a chamber in the house of Lady Ivriniel of Dol Amroth. And he was free to make this choice.

I took a king and made a beast of him.

"I don't know what you made of me", Éomer muttered to the silence, resting his head in his hands, "but one thing is for sure. I am a king no more."

And so his resolution was made. It'd have to be tonight before he could regret it or change his mind. It was for the best – Rohan deserved better than him, as did Lothíriel. He could give them that much.

It seemed as though the thought of her had summoned her, for through his door he heard her voice: "Beloved! Are you in there? Dinner's ready – will you come and join me?"

"Aye. In a moment", he called back and quickly turned to change into something that did not smell of horses. Even then, as he pulled on clean clothes, he felt the doubt tugging at his mind... and when he closed his eyes, she was all he could see. The thought of her embrace was too sweet.

He could have this much, couldn't he? A gentle memory to cling to in times to come...

Before he'd go, he would have one more night.

It was a painful secret to keep.

Watching the faces of his companions that night and knowing he was not like to see them again, not in a while at least, made it all the more difficult to remain quiet. This was the goodbye and his sister and Lothíriel would probably hate him for it. That could be for the better to say the very least. If they hated him, they'd not grieve or blame themselves.

There was also something awkward about the atmosphere. A frown never left Erchirion's face and he was apparently trying not to look at Éomer, and Lothíriel kept glancing at her brother with a mixture or anger and worry. Aragorn and Éowyn obviously knew something was wrong but neither made comments, and Elessar feigned serenity most impressively.

Halfway through it, however, he cast a searching look at his fellow king... and the younger man felt his friend knew exactly what he had in mind. But then Aragorn looked away and asked Éowyn something. The two were able to conjure a decent conversation that somewhat eased the mood, but Éomer still took his leave as soon as he could.

Sneaking about the quiet and dark house was easy. The guards and servants were otherwise occupied than watching the comings and goings of the guests, and so none saw him slip into Lothíriel's chamber, where he'd wait for her. She had left her things in a customary disarray which brought a fond little smile to his face as he looked about. It would be hard, to let go of her... Béma, he would miss her madly.

That was a thought that could have resulted in something bad had it been given a chance to grow. Fortunately, it was the moment his beloved chose to arrive. And without delay he made for her and grabbed her in his arms, to hold her as long as he could. She made a small gasp of surprise but that soon turned into a moan when he kissed her, and then everything that was not her became insignificant.

Afterwards she fell asleep next to him, content and calm... but Éomer lay awake, watching her... drinking in these last moments before he'd have to go. This was the image he would take with him when he went, and it was sweeter than anything else he could imagine.

She looked younger and more vulnerable when she slept. Her waking hours sometimes made him forget that, because then her spirit would be aflame in her eyes and her face, and there would be nothing there to make him feel like she needed anyone to protect her or to take care of her. But in dreams she was so... what was the right word for it? He didn't know. Maybe seeing her like this just made him understand how much responsibility she had taken on herself, and how it could not be an easy thing to bear – not even for someone so strong as her.

Some time after midnight he knew he had to go. He still needed to get his things and make it through the house to the stables, and he'd rather be on his way before morning came. There could very well be a night guard by the gate but that should be just one man, and sending him to the land of dreams would not be hard.

As carefully as he could he disentangled himself from Lothíriel's embrace. Carefully he pulled covers about her... and leaned down to kiss her for one last time.

"I'm sorry", he murmured. "I love you. Always will."

In her sleep, she smiled.

Something startled her from her dreams. Was it a whisper of cold air? A troubling shadow looming over her dreams? Whatever it was, Lothíriel was awakened to the knowledge that she was alone and it was night, perhaps not long after midnight.

She blinked her eyes and touched her hand to the place beside herself. It was still warm and she thought maybe Éomer had just gone to get something. But the longer she stayed there and looked at that empty space beside her, the more uneasy she felt. So she sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Maybe he couldn't sleep. I should go and look for him – make sure everything is all right.

The first thing she noticed upon exiting the bed was that his clothes were gone. That further roused her concern and so she quickly dressed, and made for the door.

When she opened it, she nearly shrieked in fright. That was because a shadow stood behind her door, his hand lifted up to... to knock at her door?

It was Aragorn, she realised, when she looked properly. He looked as surprised as she felt and for a second they both stood in silence. Then Lothíriel shook herself.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I just came to wake you up. And to give you this", he said softly, offering her a small purse. In growing confusion she took it and felt it was heavy – full of coin, she noted when she shook it gently.

"What is this for?" she asked. Her liege-lord smiled slightly.

"Make haste, Lothíriel. I just saw him going into the stables. If we allow him to slip away alone, we might never see him again. It is in your hands now", was all he said.

She understood.

The warm dim of the stables greeted her as she slipped in, shivering as could only one who has just left behind the comfort of their bed. One candle there was spreading light, illuminating the task which Éomer was currently attending to. He was saddling one of the horses, he was fully dressed complete with a cloak and his sword girthed on his side, and nearby sat a saddlebag that could only contain what few belongings he had here.

It was true, then. When Aragorn had disappeared back to those shadows he had come from to alarm her, she had thought maybe he had got it wrong somehow – even though she knew her liege-lord did not make mistakes like that. So she had quickly tossed in a bag things she would need, grabbed her bow, and rushed out as silently as she could... if only to make sure this was not happening.

But it was, and she knew what she'd do. She had known it the moment Aragorn had told her what were Éomer's intentions.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded, hands resting on hips and glaring at her horselord angrily. He stopped with the task of saddling the horse, though he didn't turn to look at her.

"I'm leaving", he replied in a colourless voice, staring at his hands that still rested on a saddle.

"I can see that, you fool", said Lothíriel briskly and grabbed another saddle in a rather violent fashion, as though the inanimate object had somehow offended her. "And I'd like to know what makes you think you can just slip away without saying anything to me!"

Now he turned his eyes towards her, and she could see he was very much trying to hide what was going on in his mind. It wasn't very successful, though.

"Because I knew this is exactly what you'd do, and you shouldn't come with me", he said quietly.

"Where did you get such an idiotic idea?" Lothíriel demanded to know as she began to saddle a horse. "You heard that nonsense Erchirion spewed at me today, didn't you? And it gave you this stupid notion you should just go alone? How could you possibly pay any heed to what he said?"

"He was not completely wrong", he tried, but that earned him a furious glare.

"Oh, he was. He knows nothing! When did we ever let other people tell us what to do? When did his word become more important to you than mine?" she asked sharply. He did not seem to have an answer to that, so he tried another approach.

"Lothíriel, I'm not going to return to Rohan. In fact, I'm not sure where I'm going. Don't think I will let you follow me into wandering!" Éomer said quickly and moved around the horse, placing his hands on the saddle she was just working on. She met his eyes steadily.

"It's not your business to allow me anything! I'll ride after you and tail you to the ends of the world, if I have to. You know I'll do it", Lothíriel said in calm tones. She frowned then, "How could you expect I would just sit back and let you steal away like a thief in the middle of a night? You can't go alone."

"I have to, Lothíriel. I can't... I won't stay here, where everything reminds me of how wrong everything is. I can't stand the looks they give me. I can't be king – I can't rule when I can barely rule myself. That is why I have to go. And you... I'm not letting you forsake your life and family again because of me. I've tried to tell you that you deserve so much more than what I've become, and it's true still. I will not make you become a homeless wanderer when you ought to live in your father's palace, safe and sound. Don't you see I'm trying to take care of you, like you have been taking care of me?" he tried desperately. She glared at him and felt so angry, because how could he be so blind – how couldn't he understand?

"Didn't you listen to me when I told you it doesn't matter what I deserve? It's all the same to me! You don't have to be a king or rule or do anything you can't do. And if I cared about palaces and gowns and other nonsense like that I'd never have come to look for you in the first place. None of that means anything if you're gone and I'm not going to live again through not knowing if you're even alive! Don't you see, Éomer?! I need you too!" she exclaimed, and felt like choking with the horrible possibility that he might go and leave her here all alone with nothing but wondering. Tears blurred her vision but she did see how his eyes widened... and then he moved closer fast and grabbed her into a tight embrace.

"You must see that I only want what's best for you", he murmured into her hair.

"Then let me come with you", Lothíriel replied, her voice breaking and turning into a pathetic little whimper. He pulled back slightly, so that he could see her face, and there was wonder on his features. He looked more like his old self then, and in the dim of the stable one couldn't see the grey in his hair.

"Lothíriel, why don't you just give up on me? Why do you keep fighting for the wretched thing I am?" Éomer asked. He seemed genuinely confused by this.

"Because I love you, you big oaf. If you fall, I'll catch you. And you would do the same for me if I was in your position", she told him and even managed to give him a smile. "You used to trust me before. Just... trust me again. Please?"

He said no more. Instead, he pulled her again into an embrace so tight it almost hurt. She didn't protest to it, though, but let him linger there and hold on to her. His breath was ragged, she could feel the tension of his form, and she knew it was a long road ahead of them... where it would lead, she didn't know. Maybe she'd never see her home again. But after what had happened there was no possible way she could just let Éomer leave without her. More than any earthly dwelling, she could not be without him.

At last he pulled back and looked like he had his emotions under control again. Gently he kissed her brow.

"We should make haste if we mean to leave the city tonight", he said softly, and she smiled at him.

Without a further word, they prepared their horses... and made for the road.

A new day dawned at last, and not long after sunrise Éowyn got up from her bed. She had slept fitfully, waking up every now and then and fighting back shadows when she did dream. As she got up and dressed she told it was merely because of anxiety, fed by the knowledge Faramir would be here very soon. Oh, how she had missed him! Whatever happened in Minas Tirith, she knew it was not going to be easy. Either she would have to bid farewell to her beloved husband if only for a while, or let her brother go home alone. Being the stubborn thing he was, Éomer would not ask for help even if he needed it.

The hour was early and so she didn't expect to see anyone up and about yet, except for the cook perhaps. To pass the time before breakfast Éowyn decided to go and pay a visit to the stables, and see to the horses Lord Erchirion had purchased.

She never got that far, though. For when she came to the entrance hall and exited, she found Aragorn standing on the steps of the house, lost in his musings.

"Good morning", she bid her friend as she halted beside him.

"Good morning", he echoed, barely loud enough for her to hear. He didn't look at her either, but instead stared at the gates of the courtyard. Éowyn frowned, sensing something was on his mind – something possibly quite grave.

"Is something amiss?" she asked.

"They have gone", said Aragorn softly. He finally glanced at her and he looked weary, and she wondered if he had slept at all last night.

"Who has gone? And where?" she demanded as an ill feeling rose in her.

"Your brother", he sighed. "He has left us. And Lothíriel went with him."

In shock, she stared at him. It took a moment for her to regain her voice.

"If they've left, then we must -" she started sharply, but now her friend turned fully to look at her.

"Éowyn", he said in a stronger voice now, commanding her attention. "We must let them go."

"But... but we can't just let them go like that – he needs to – we have to -" she stammered, though all the while she felt this couldn't be true, and that her brother wouldn't just disappear like so without saying a word.

"I know it s difficult to bear, but I don't think we have any choice", Aragorn said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is his choice, Éowyn. If this is what he needs to heal, then... we must let him seek his redemption in his own way."

"But couldn't you heal him, like you healed me?" Éowyn asked, and now she could not hold back tears anymore. Yet like she feared he shook his head.

"Would that I could, my friend... but I can't help him now. When you were healed, I did what I could for your injuries, but it was your brother's voice that called you back to light. And even then neither of us could truly heal your heart", Aragorn replied as gently as he could. "Like you, he now has to find his healing on his own. I do not think this is where he will find it. Your brother is... he's angry and in pain and perhaps for now he has lost his way. And if there is anyone in this world who might be able to help him find it again, it's Lothíriel. We must trust in her and give him the time he needs. Maybe that is all it takes."

She tried hard to see a fault in his words – to come up with something she could use to argue. But Aragorn was right. There was nothing more she or him could do for her brother. They could not save him – the only one who might do that was himself. And perhaps Lothíriel indeed was the one who had the best chance of helping him in that tremendous task.

So she sighed and wiped tears from her eyes, tried to smile even.

"What now, then?" she asked. With one swift move, Éomer had changed the course of future and she had no idea where they would go from here or what would happen next.

"Now", Aragorn said softly, "we wait."

By dawn, the two travellers had left Pelargir far behind. It looked to be like a beautiful day and there was something indescribable about the early morning moment... watching the sun rise, riding ahead without destination but in complete freedom. They did not meet others on the road this early, so they were left in peace and quiet.

They did not speak much either, except for when Éomer wondered if Aragorn and Éowyn would send people looking for them. But when he asked that, Lothíriel just smiled.

"I don't think they will. It was Aragorn who sent me after you. That's why I found you so quickly", she told him.

"Aragorn? Really?" he had to ask, with some surprise. Well, he wasn't so astonished that Aragorn had known – the old fox saw everything – but that the man would just let them go like this?

"Yes. He never ceases to amaze you, does he?" she stated, shaking her head. She looked at him then, "He knows you. And he knows when is not the time to hold you back."

He nodded in agreement and felt somewhat reassured. At least pursuers were not a matter they'd have to worry about. Still, when he thought of his sister, he felt guilty – Éowyn would not take well his sudden disappearance. But she had her own life now and she had Faramir, and he knew he didn't need to worry about her. Perhaps he would forsake the life of a wanderer one day, if only to apologise to her.

Thoughts of guilt threatened to take a hold then, dancing about the questions of whether she'd be very hurt, and if he was doing a great ill by disappearing so. But then... surely it would still be a greater ill if he did return and gave his people a king unworthy of them, who couldn't even lead? They deserved to remember him the way he used to be, not how he was now.

Or was it just him who needed to remember himself as a decent king?

These thoughts brought Éomer a similar feeling as the one that had nearly broken him just yesterday, but some deep breaths helped him to stay calm, and quickly looking at the woman riding beside him took away what remained of the threatening anxiety. On her face he only saw calmness and her eyes held no fear.

Watching her he was reminded that he should always, always trust her. Lothíriel had not preached, not made any points on how he should go here or there or do that. She placed no such expectations on him he couldn't handle, nor did she try to tell him what was the right course of action. She just wanted to come with him... she just wanted him to love her.

And he knew that for now, loving her was the only thing he could really do.

A/N: Here is an update at last! I've been a bit busy lately, so I could not get this chapter done very quickly. Hope you liked it!

I do know Erchiron probably comes across as a bit of a jerk in this chapter, especially towards Éomer, but he doesn't mean ill by it. Maybe he's a bit thoughtless about the matter, but ultimately he is just worried about his sister.

I have to say I'm really happy for the positive welcome Lady Ceolwen has received. She's just one of those characters that kind of sprung to life full-grown, and I do like her a lot as well! I'm not certain yet how soon we might see more of her, but I can promise she'll be back.

Now, I have a feeling the development in this chapter may cause some disagreement among you, my dear readers, though I've done my best to foreshadow it in the previous chapters. That Éomer would choose something of a voluntary exile may not sit well with you, and I understand if you think so. Here's my two cents for why I chose to take that road anyway, in case the chapter itself left you wondering.

Éomer of before would certainly never abandon his duty; he might feel uncomfortable about it and think he's not going to be a good king, but he'd do his best anyway. However, Éomer of now is a different thing. At this point he is someone who has recently endured some rather traumatic and abusive events, and it has not left him unaffected. He's not well and he's not himself. This is important to keep in mind in my opinion, and I don't think pure logic-based reasoning is completely applicable here. Moreover, I have this feeling that Aragorn's presence is not currently helping, as bizarre as that may sound. But hear me out with it. What I mean is that Aragorn casts a pretty unparalleled example: he is calm and collected and most importantly he is at peace with himself. He doesn't have serious issues that haunt him constantly and make him battle for his mental and spiritual health. So Éomer looks at him and sees all that (he thinks) he's not, and he's not sure if he can ever regain it. Perhaps it's partly about shame too – as the old Lothíriel in the beginning of the story stated, Éomer doesn't want to show weakness. He hates the fact that there are all these people around him, and even though he loves each one of them he can't bear them seeing him like this.

All these complex emotions trigger his decision to take this road. He knows himself and the fact that he's not all right. Moreover, he's convinced he wouldn't be able to take the pressure of being a king without it further damaging him. He has begun to heal, yes, but not so much that he could go back to Rohan and rule. Like he thinks to himself, how can he rule his people if he can't rule himself? So, in his reasoning he is working for Rohan's best interests by leaving, because he doesn't want to give Rohirrim a king who can't manage the burdens of that position. He probably would reconsider the matter if he knew what is happening in Rohan right now, but to his knowledge things are in the hands of men he left in charge when he first left for war. If he knew what Feran is up to he'd probably sacrifice himself anyway, along with his mental well-being. This outdated information is also why Aragorn and Éowyn let him and Lothíriel go.

And it's quite obvious, to me at least, that Lothíriel would go with him. Éomer wouldn't really be able to tell her no in the end, try as he might. Also I feel it is important for him to understand that she needs him too, which could play an important part in his recovery.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Quote in the beginning originally by Walter Scott.

Inspiration for the chapter: Globus - The Promise

MairaElleth - I'm not so sure yet how soon Ceolwen will return, but she's most certainly going to make another appearance in the future! :)

And yes, I think it was a much-needed instance of relief for Éomer!

UntilNeverDawns - Glad to hear that! :)

sylverlilias - He has indeed made progress, but I think Éomer has yet roads to go before he can really say he's all right. We will see how this decision to leave affects his recovery!

No Elfhelm in this chapter, but I'm pretty sure he'll be back in the next chapter. :)

Thalia - Yes, it's definitely a difficult thing for Elfhelm to endure this time too. If Éomer knew what his friends are going through he probably wouldn't have chosen this road.

I'm happy you like Ceolwen! She's a tough lady indeed. :)

Bowmaiden - Indeed, I think it's an important thing for him to understand, and perhaps realising he can't endure this alone is a key element in walking that road of recovery.

And yes, Elfhelm indeed is very loyal!

Michelle - That is quite true - one doesn't often see this approach where the man is more vulnerable than the woman. Altogether I'm not comfortable with this general idea that men can't be so, or that they can't cry. In the end all of us have hurts and have low points in our lives, and it makes us human. This applies to characters in stories as well.

Shadowstorm - Ceolwen will indeed be back sooner or later! :) And Elfhelm might not be acting so wisely in relation to Feran, but I think it's understandable still that it would not be easy for him to keep the silence.

Wondereye - Yes, it has been a difficult time, but maybe now it is easier for them both to start and move on because they are again in such close terms with each other.

Talia119 - You and your comments have been missed indeed, so it's good to have you back! Hope you had a pleasant vacation. :)

Elfhelm probably does still have an eye for Ceolwen, but the fact that her betrothed died in the war may prevent him from making any moves on her.

I'm glad you liked that scene, and it is good to hear I succeeded in writing it so. I was indeed hoping to create this scene that would show their deep closeness in that instance, but as a writer I don't really feel comfortable writing explicit scenes. And I very much agree with you (as does Aragorn): being so close to a loved one can indeed be a healing experience, and indeed it was an important thing for them to re-establish.