There are not words to say how sorry I am for the long delay in this update. I also know it's short, but I just wanted to get something up. I hope you enjoy it! I will do my best to update again soon.

Chapter Sixteen (Lothiriel)

To me, time seemed to not pass at all. I stayed in bed for almost two months after the funeral. The pain and winter did not abate. I could not eat anything or sleep, but I could not move either. It was like there was a boulder sitting on my chest, holding me down, crushing the breath out of me.

I had seen no one except for Eomer, Amrothos, and Dernhild and I had hardly spoken to any of them. I could not. There was nothing to say. More often than not, I listened to them converse about me outside of the bedroom door. They thought I could not hear, but they were mistaken.

"I cannot get her to eat a thing," Eomer whispered in a panic to Dernhild one evening.

"I had some luck earlier today. She took a bit of broth at midday."

I could hear the loud footfalls of Eomer's pacing.

I wanted to be better for him, but I could not bring myself out of the hole I was in. The times I had tried to move out of the bed, I had seen the chair near our window where I had nursed Artanis so many times. I would never do that again.

"She cannot go on like this."

I could hear the exasperation in my husband's voice. He had come across very few situations, perhaps none, in his life that he could not fix. He was a repairer of all things.

"You must give her time," Dernhild soothed.

"Time? She has not come out of that room in two months."

"And she carried your daughter for nine, Your Grace. I know this is hard. Your wife has become very dear to me in the short time that we have known one another. I cannot bear to see her like this either, I assure you."

There was a lull in their conversation, but not in Eomer's pacing.

"I will sit with her with her for a while, Your Grace. Clear your mind. Visit the stables, perhaps."

Eomer did not say another word but I listened as his footfalls faded away.

It was another moment before the bedroom door opened and Dernhild sat in the chair that was permanently next to my side of the bed. She did not speak as she knew I would not respond.

Finally, though, I mustered up the energy to talk.

"Eomer is losing patience with me," I said weakly.

"No Lothiriel, he is hurting too. He wants to help you, but as a man it is hard for him to understand how such a strong bond could have been formed in such a short amount of time."

Dernhild reached for my hand and warmed it between her own.

"How did this happen to us?" I whispered.

"It does no good to think on that. There is no need to open that wound in your heart."

"It never healed. I fear it never will. My body and mind have been consumed by it."

Dernhild rubbed her thumb across the back of my hand. "It will never heal completely. You will always feel a void in that spot in your heart that Artanis occupied, but you are strong and you will learn to live with it."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"Because I know you. You have gone through much already and have survived. I would say you have even thrived. But this mourning is a process, one that must be dealt with. Just know that there are those of us here who want to help in any way we can."

I said no more that day.

ooooOoooo

Another week passed by and the fog surrounding me did not lift. Snow was falling outside the bedroom windows and I stared at the blinding white for hours.

Eventually, I shifted and put my bare feet on the cold stone floor. My thick winter nightgown settled around my ankles as I stood. My vision swam as my movements had only contained going to the bathroom in the last couple of months.

When it finally settled I made my way into the deserted corridor. I had no idea what time it was. Eomer had left our bed early in the morning, before the sun had risen. He had kissed my forehead as had become his habit and departed our chambers without a word.

A cold draft blew through the corridors and if I had been in a proper state of mind I would have felt it biting through my nightgown, but I did not.

I made my way out one of the back doors that would take me to the burial mounds. I had not been anywhere near them since my daughter's funeral. As soon as I left the Golden Hall, the wind was tearing my dirty hair from my braid and whipping my loose nightgown around my legs.

Finding the small burial mound was easy. It would forever be seared in my mind. I sank to my knees in front of it, still feeling nothing of the cold.

No tears came, I just stared. I did not bloody my fingers tearing through the frozen, snow covered ground. I merely knelt. Still as a statue except for my raven hair that was blowing madly in the wind, contrasting against the stark white background.

After a while, I was jerked back by my arm and my head snapped back so I was looking into Eomer's enraged face.

"How long have you been out here?" He demanded as he roughly threw his cloak over me and scooped me into his arms.

I stared at him blankly. Truly, I had no idea how much time had passed.

"Your lips are blue." He swiped a thumb over them and looked over the rest of my body to make sure I was alright. "Bema's balls, where are your shoes?"

Eomer began to run toward Meduseld then. I could see Amrothos and Dernhild standing outside of the door I had used along with many curious onlookers.

"Move!" My brother shouted at them all. "Get out of the King's way!"

Eomer barreled through the corridors and back to our chambers.

"Adela, run the Queen a warm bath, no hot, warm," Dernhild instructed my faithful lady who had met us in the bedroom. "Amrothos, stoke the fire."

Eomer laid me in our bed and pulled one foot out from beneath the furs. He rubbed it between his hands vigorously to bring some warmth back to it. His head was bowed over my foot. I could not make out what he might be thinking.

When he finally met my gaze there were tears in his eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" He asked quietly. When I did not respond he became angry once more. "Have you?"

"Your Grace," Dernhild stepped up and placed a hand on his large arm. Eomer jerked violently away from her and glared at me.

"Do you mean to kill yourself and leave me with nothing?" He demanded as he stood, towering over the bed. His words hung between us for a terrible moment before turning to Amrothos who had stepped up next to Dernhild.

"Write to your father. I imagine Imrahil could handle all of this better than I," Eomer said before he stormed out of the room, the door crashing closed behind him.

Later, as Dernhild washed my filthy hair, I sobbed and sobbed. I cried so hard that I could not catch my breath and I could not see. Dernhild never said a word. She let me have that time and when it was over I felt better. Not momentously of course, but better.

ooooOoooo

My father arrived shortly thereafter to Edoras. Since the day I had traipsed into the snow I had not taken back to my bed. I did not resume my normal life, but I spent time in front of the fire, out of bed, with Dernhild and Amrothos. Not much was said, but it was not the awful silence that had persisted for nearly two months. I could also be found in the library reading what I had not yet gotten to about the culture of Rohan. I occasionally socialized with others beside Dernhild, Amrothos, and my other ladies if they came across my path.

Though I felt better, Eomer and I had hardly spoken to one another. I knew that I had shaken him that day.

My father entered my rooms before I even knew he had arrived. Imrahil embraced Amrothos before sending him and Dernhild to leave us in privacy.

"My daughter," he murmured as he folded me into his arms.

"You smell of the sea," I said after a long moment of just being still.

"I had hoped to bring it with me as it always offered you such comfort."

He ran rough hands over my long, dark, unbound hair. "Are you alright?"

"No," I replied quietly.

"Of course not. That was a tactless question." He looked down at me. "Do you think you will be alright…eventually? Your brother wrote to me of your incident."

I sighed. "This has been harder than anything I've ever been through," I admitted. "But I am the queen here and so I must get through it."

My father nodded. "Keep your daughter in your heart always, but you are not only a mother to Artanis, but to the people of Rohan as well. They might be a comfort to you now."

I pulled him down onto a small sofa near the fire, just wanting to be close to someone who knew my entire story. I inhaled deeply over and over again the scent of the sea, the scent of my home.

"How has Eomer been through all of this?" My father asked long after I thought he had dozed off after his long travels.

"He was very good to me until the 'incident,'" I replied. "Eomer has detached himself since then."

"Loth, can you imagine how frightened he must have been when he found you?"

"I did not do what I did on purpose, Father. You must believe me. I think I was truly out of my senses. I did not intend to die out there."

"Of course not. You are tougher than this." He placed a kiss on the top of my head. "But imagine for a moment that you are Eomer and you have already lost a child and you find your wife outside in the midst of a bitter Rohirric winter wearing nothing but a night shift." He paused and took a breath. "So of course he has pulled away from you. It would be easier to let you go as well that way. But he does not know you like I do. I know you are not going anywhere. You must convince him of that."

ooooOoooo

Later that night when Eomer returned to our bedroom, I stood behind him as he kicked off his boots. He had joined all of us for dinner, but had promptly returned to his study as soon as he had finished eating.

"Eomer," I said hesitantly. "Could we talk?"

"I have been trying to talk to you for months, Lothiriel," he said not turning to look at me.

"I know you have. I am taking full responsibility for our lack of communication of late. I would speak with you now though and pray that I have not let things get too far gone between us."

Eomer glanced over his shoulder at me, an outward sign of how guarded he had made himself.

"I would say that I made a mistake in shutting myself off to you. Now I know that if I had opened myself to you when we were both hurting we might have begun to heal more effectively." I reached out to touch his back but he turned and my hand fell back to my side.

"I thought you were dead. As I was walking to the throne room I glanced out the window and thought you had frozen to death. On purpose."

I hung my head in shame at what I had put him through, what I had added to his already heavy load.

He put a finger beneath my chin. "Do not put me through that again. Those were the worst moments of my life and that is saying something."

I hope you loved it. Let me know what you think! Again, I am so sorry for the delay!