Chapter 38
Rohan, July the 25th, 3019
Lothíriel's warning about Caerdydd not being the most picturesque place in Middle Earth proved well-founded. The city was an overpopulated, chaotic labyrinth of foul-smelling alleys and shabby houses, and while at least he had been given a warm welcome – being the Queen's brother had its perks after all!, Haleth had not been so fortunate. From the moment he had set foot into the city, he had become the preferred target of snickering comments and little quips, giving Amrothos his first taste of the famed rivalry existing between the East-mark – where the city lied, and the West-mark - birthplace of his travelling companion. Because of it, Haleth had insisted he should join him during the various negotiations, assuring him that even though he could hardly contribute to the discussion due to the language barrier, his presence was a sure way to soften even the most ruthless merchant – or eastern scoundrels, as he liked to call them. Basically, he had become the advisor's lucky charm and wasn't even upset about it. In fact, after a week spent shoulder to shoulder, he had come to respect the Council's newest member and could see why Éomer had chosen him to take over the spot left vacant by Grima Wormtongue.
As he watched the lumber for the construction of the first inn being loaded onto a cart, Amrothos mused that even though he had agreed with Lothíriel he'd return to Gondor before the first snowfalls, he really wouldn't mind extending his stay in Rohan. There was no shortage of things to do around there and besides, he liked the Riddermark and would love to see more of it. He didn't think his sister and her husband would mind - in fact, they seemed quite satisfied with what little help he had been able to give them. Even more importantly, Amrothos had come to cherish his sister's company. In the past, they had never gotten along – he being an insufferable imbecile with the depth of thought of a jellyfish and she being annoyingly naïve and touchy. But the past year and a half had changed that and now, he was loath to leave before she had given birth and he had had a chance of securing himself the title of favourite uncle with his nephew – or niece.
Indeed, he felt uncharacteristically giddy about it!
"You must be Prince Amrothos. It's a pleasure to finally meet you", spoke a young man with blonde-reddish hair. He had an open smile and holding on his arm was a woman with oddly braided hair and stern blue eyes.
"Haleth's niece and her lord husband, I suppose". They had been waiting for them for a couple of days already, but apparently convincing one of Edoras' former innkeepers to abandon the safety and comfort of the capital in favour of a lonely settlement had proven more challenging than they had initially anticipated.
"Betrothed, though I'll be soon fortunate enough to call myself Lady Ealith's husband", he corrected him, looking almost childishly happy about the impending wedding. His bride on the other hand didn't seem to share his enthusiasm and when he greeted her with a kiss of her hand, she snatched it back from his grasp as quickly as she possibly could, her head slightly turned to the right as if almost repulsed by the sight of him.
Amrothos cast the man a puzzled look, but all he got in return was another beaming smile. "My name is Alling. Lord Haleth told us great things about you and both Ealith and I had been looking forward to meet you".
Unlikely, Amrothos thought wryly. Since Haleth, Elffa and Garhild were all busy elsewhere, he took it upon himself to do the honours and guide the newly arrived couple to their accommodation. "Shouldn't there be other people travelling with you?", he inquired.
"Yes. Ealith here has made a wonderful job at convincing Gammer and his family to relocate to the new inn. He, his wife, two daughters and three sons have travelled with us. They have relatives in Caerdydd, so they'll be staying with them until we are ready to leave. How are the negotiations going?".
"All successfully concluded. Haleth has secured the lumber and other materials needed for the construction and the first delivery arrived at the site yesterday already. He has also hired workers and is keen to put them at work as soon as possible, which is why he has made plans to leave Caerdydd in a couple of days".
"Splendid. Where is he now?".
"The ealdorman is showing him the new warehouse, he shall be back soon. Will you join us for supper?".
"Of course!", Alling accepted enthusiastically while beside him, Lady Ealith forced a deep breath through her pursed lips. Amrothos would have likely missed her subtle reaction, had he not been looking intently at her, trying to figure out her strange behaviour and wondering how someone so stern and cold could be Haleth's beloved niece. It was then that a sudden gust of wind swept down the road, causing her braid to fall down her back, the strands of hair framing her face fluttering behind her. With a gasp, Lady Ealith turned away and immediately Alling rushed to her side, helping her fixing her hair and murmuring soothing words.
Amrothos observed the exchange in silence, not quite sure what had just happened. He only caught a few words, and they didn't seem to make much sense. It's alright, it's alright… I told you, silly… I told you not to go…
Not wanting to intrude in what appeared to be a private moment, he took his leave and headed for the stables.
In the week that followed, Lady Ealith remained a mystery. There was something odd in the way she moved, she was clearly uncomfortable with being surrounded by strangers, consumed her meals alone in her room – or, after they had left Caerdydd, in her tent, and normally rode at the rear of the group. At day, she always wore a full medium-weight armour complete with helmet; in the evening, she'd switch to plain clothes and a hooded cloak. It was that detail that made him realize Ealith was the childhood friend Aldwyn had spoken of that night in front of the Hammer.
It was clear that Haleth thought highly of her and indeed, those few times he had seen her dealing with either the workers or the merchants, he could see that she was smart and well-respected. Outside of work matters however, she was practically a ghost.
It wasn't until their fifth day at the construction site, that he got his first clue.
Startled awake by one of his usual nightmares, Amrothos left his tent and decided to go for a walk. The spot Éomer and Elfhelm had chosen for the inn was perfect. Located just about six hundred feet from the Great West Road and four days' ride from Edoras, it was nestled between one of the many tributaries of the Entwash and a rocky trail that climbed the foot of the White Mountains towards some isolated farms. It was going to be one of the largest settlements, with enough rooms to accommodate over ten families at a time, a large tavern, spacious stables and barracks to host a small garrison. With a thirteen feet high palisade and a ditch to deter any orc attack, Amrothos was confident the place would win favour with the passing Gondorian nobles.
He had almost made it to the riverbank, when he noticed Ealith swimming in the shallow waters of the river. Eager to avoid any embarrassing situation, he made for turning around and return to the camp. As he did so however, the light of an almost full moon caressed the side of her face and at last, Amrothos understood the reason for the helm, the cloak and her strangely braided hair.
As quietly as he could, he slipped away.
In the days that followed, he discovered Ealith slept even less than he did and visited the river almost every night. She was always alone sitting by the riverbank, never sought Alling nor her uncle's company and was very careful to get back to her tent well before either of them would awake. If she noticed him walking by, she would raise a hand in greeting and then return her attention to the dark landscape in front of her.
Silence and solitude seemed to be the only things she longed for, and Amrothos dutifully respected that.
Edoras, August the 7th 3019
When the escort of Théoden King was spotted approaching the capital, a strange mix of emotions washed over the city.
There was the joy for all those who had survived the war and were finally returning home. Grief for those who never would. Sorrow and something akin to trepidation almost, for in everyone's hearts the funeral of Théoden King was the last act of a war that had bloodied the country for years. Finally, there was curiosity - and a touch of wariness too, towards the large Gondorian host that accompanied the escort.
Lothíriel was no exception.
She had missed Éomer terribly in the month that he had been away and could hardly wait to be reunited with him, to be held in his arms while she told him every little thing that had happened while he was in Gondor. Like that she had started feeling the baby moving. Or that she was somehow convinced it was going to be a boy and had already come up with a too-long list of possible names. Or that she had started suffering a mild but persistent lower back pain and much to his joy, she agreed she should take it easier from now on – though easier did not mean bedridden.
Hers was a bitter happiness though, because there wasn't a single family in Rohan who hadn't lost someone dear in the war. Théoden King was dead, and so were many of the riders she had come to know during her months in Aldburg. Among them was Wulf – Wilrun's beloved father, and many, many more.
The news of the imminent arrival of the Gondorian party also had her strung tight as a psaltery string. She was of course happy to see her family and could hardly wait to show them around. But alongside them traveled some of Gondor's haughtiest specimen and she knew for a fact that if she so much heard one word out of place or one disparaging comment about the Mark, she'd go berserk! Of course, it was not lost to her why she felt so defensive: upon arriving in Rohan a year and a half ago, she had judged it an ugly, barbaric land. Now, it was her beautiful home and she was not going to allow anyone to treat it with anything but the respect and awe it deserved.
Edoras was as ready as it could be and with the hall having to provide for all the guests, the coming days were going to be hectic. It did not help that Beywyn – who was officially Meduseld's cook but had also been acting as a housekeeper, had her hands full in the kitchen and was thus left with very little time to care for her other duties. Éomer had once told her that the former housekeeper had resigned a couple of years earlier due to disagreements with Grima and was now happily employed elsewhere. The Wormtongue had never cared for hiring a replacement and Beywyn had tried her best to fill both roles at the same time. Considering the circumstances, she had done a wonderful job. With the war over and Grima and his henchmen gone however, it was clear Meduseld now needed a full-time housekeeper. Lothíriel had asked around, but no one had provided her with valuable recommendations. The advisors had assured they could present her with suitable candidates, naturally. But if her experience with Meregith had taught her anything at all, was that having a capable housekeeper was just as important as having a trusted housekeeper, and she was surely not going to let the Council meddle in the matter.
In the end, there was only one name she could think of: Ides. The young woman had recently married Eofor and had been part of Aldburg's household for many years. She may have lacked experience, but she was skilled, smart and – just as importantly, she was someone she had come to trust. Lothíriel knew some may turn their noses up at seeing someone so young taking up the role of Meduseld's housekeeper, but she was convinced it was their best option and determined to discuss the matter with Éomer as soon as possible.
As she observed the escort coming to a halt in front of hall, Lothíriel felt a familiar flutter in her chest. Had she had it her way, she'd have run to Éomer and demanded to be kissed senseless. But they had already given a similar show upon being reunited in Minas Tirith and the circumstances were now considerably more sober, thus demanding a more formal stance. Her hands were surprisingly steady when she offered him the traditional cup of mead, as it was her voice when she welcomed King Elessar and his wife Queen Arwen.
In the hours that followed, the only transgression to the protocol Éomer dared while they entertained their guests, was in the caresses he occasionally laid upon her belly and in the way he held firmly her hand, his thumb drawing endless idle circles upon her palm.
Amrothos was never far from them, always pointing at who was who in the crowd of nobles striving to exchange a few words with the Queen of Rohan and ensuring that she was never at loss as to what to say. "Éomer", she asked at last for her brother's sake, "I think Amrothos here is dying to know how the news of the inns' construction has been received by our Gondorian guests".
"Splendidly. I wish you had been there to see it with your own eyes, Amrothos".
He smiled ear to ear. "I stayed at the construction site as long as I could, but I wanted to be here before your arrival just in case Loth…the Queen", he corrected himself, "required my assistance - which she didn't of course, for she had everything under control".
It was a lie, but one she welcomed gladly. Her brother had taken his role at court with great enthusiasm and it warmed her heart to see how well he was doing. "Well don't keep us in suspense, give us some more details!", she pressed Éomer, earning herself a vigorous nod of agreement.
"Haleth and Gummer really outdid themselves. They had supplies delivered to the construction site and I don't how Gummer and his wife pulled it off with no proper stove and only a couple of campfires, but they welcomed us with a refreshment that had half of your countrymen literally drooling all over the place. It proved the best way to illustrate our intentions of building inns along the entire length of the Great West Road. Several nobles have already informed me they intend to return to Rohan once more before the winter comes and then again next year. A few have also approach me to ask whether I'd agree to their sons – and daughters!, spending some weeks in Edoras to learn the ways of the Horselords".
"Why, this is great news!", she exclaimed.
"It is. And King Elessar has already announced he will replicate our efforts in Gondor, so that proper accommodation will be ensured all the way from Minas Tirith down to Edoras. You have helped us greatly, Amrothos, and since it appears that more and more Gondorian will be spending time in Rohan in the next future, I'd like you to consider the idea of extending your stay with us. We could definitely use a couple more of those brilliant ideas of yours".
Amrothos bowed his head, looking unusually solemn. "It would be my honour, Lord. In fact, I had hoped I could take advantage of your hospitality until next spring, for I haven't nearly had enough of your beautiful country", he announced before excusing himself.
After he had walked away, Lothíriel squeezed Éomer's hand a little tighter. "Thank you".
"No need to thank me. I meant what I said: your brother is good at this", he said opening his arms, "and he's someone we can trust. The longer he stays, the happier I'll be".
She nodded and as she watched him moving through the crowd in long purposeful stride, she couldn't help but frowning. "That's the only thing that worries me".
Éomer followed her gaze. "Aldwyn?".
"Yes. They have gotten close since you left and I'm not sure it's a good thing".
"Why?", he asked looking genuinely bemused.
"What do you mean, why? Aldwyn is a noble lady from a respected, powerful family. Do you think it wise for someone with my brother's reputation to dally with her?".
"Your brother has a reputation that is not unlike that of many other young nobles. That doesn't mean he's an idiot", Éomer spoke in a chastising tone that had Lothíriel worrying her lip, feeling somewhat ashamed. Rationally, she knew her husband was right and that her brother would never do anything dishonourable. Yet that did very little to appease her concerns, for she didn't see him being serious with the lady in question and didn't want her reputation to be tarnished in any way. Most of all, she feared Aldwyn's exuberance and carelessness would do her brother no good and that he'd be the one to lose out from the failure of their blossoming relationship.
Three days after the arrival of the escort, Théoden King was buried with all honours in the Barrowfield, laid to rest alongside his forefathers on a morning where the bright sun shining above their heads could do little to dispel the sense of loss and melancholy permeating the city. The following day, Éomer was officially declared King and after placing a golden crown no one in Rohan had not seen since the days of Morwen Steelsheen on Lothíriel's head, he proclaimed her Queen regent.
By noon of August the 14th, most of the guests had taken their leave with the exception of his father, Erchirion and Míririen, who had decided to stay until the end of August. Éomer proposed they could visit the Hornburg and hoping he could ride there on his newly acquired Rohirric mount, a couple of days before their departure Amrothos headed towards the stable.
The week before, several horses had been brought from the Eastemnet and he wasn't surprised to find his family and the entire squadron of Swan Knights that had escorted them, checking them out. His stallion especially had caught everyone's attention, and for good reason! His dark gray coat was similar to that of Firefoot and from the very first moment he had first laid eyes upon him, Amrothos had known he should be his. He had been willing to pay any amount of gold to buy him, but of course Éomer had refused and insisted it shall be a gift.
He joined the group and upon seeing Runhild barking orders and bits of insults at a young stable hand who was slacking off, Amrothos couldn't help but teasing her: "Ginger, do you want me to find you a whip to better order the poor boy around?".
"A bludgeon would be better. Nothing to damage inside that skull anyway", she muttered, causing everyone to burst into laughter.
"She seems to have adjusted well to her new job", noted Míririen.
"She did, though the first weeks have been tough".
"How come?".
"The Queen considers her a friend and interceded for her with Fastfara, which led to many assuming she was being given a special treatment and that she did not really deserve to be here. But she has been working harder than anyone else and as you well know, she has both brain and temper. It's been only one month, but already no one would dare questioning her presence anymore".
Lothíriel and Aldwyn emerged from the stables, followed by Éomer, Haleth, Alling and tiny speck of white scurrying around everyone's feet.
In spite of his name, Bandit was remarkably well-behaved for such young dog and already responded to some easy commands – sit, down, stand and stay. Théocanstan had explained he would not start his formal training – he wasn't sure what that entailed to be honest, until he was at least seven months old. Until then, he'd be focusing on introducing the pup to the horses and together with Beyrith, they had taken to spend time every day in the stables.
Lothíriel lingered for a while, chatting with Míririen and occasionally playing with Bandit, who seemed very taken with her hard leather boots. Before leaving, she invited all presents – guards and Swan Knights included, to join her and the King for dinner and asked Alling to extend the invitation to his betrothed too.
"It will be an honour, your Highness", the young man was quick to accept before adding, "Unfortunately, Ealith will most likely decline your kind invitation. She is ashamed of the terrible scars she earned during the war and she understandably prefers avoiding social gatherings whenever possible".
His words were met with an awkward silence. Lothíriel looked like she did not quite know what to say. Haleth appeared downright incensed and so did Aldwyn, while most of the others were simply pretending they had not heard the comment at all.
Amrothos bristled.
Why would the bloody idiot say such thing? He didn't know Lady Ealith well, yet even he knew she wouldn't want such private matter exposed in such blatant way in front of people she barely knew. She didn't want to come to dinner? Fair enough, Alling could have simply said she was indisposed or something! But no, he had to blurt it all out for everyone to hear – King, Queen, Princes, knights, guards, stable hands…
He glanced at Haleth hoping he'd say something, but Aldwyn beat him to it.
"Alling, why don't you shut your mouth for once?". She hissed the words to his face and managed to give him a good shove before Haleth stepped in, forcing her to back off while at the same time casting the man a meaningful look.
"I believe both my niece and her betrothed have previous commitments and won't be able to accept the Queen's invitation. Isn't that right, Alling?".
His stupid big mouth gaping, it took the man a solid minute to take his clue. "I… yes, of course. I had forgotten about our… commitment… My apologies, your Highness".
Haleth gave him a small sideway nod – the universally recognized sign of sod off, and left himself shortly afterwards together with a still fuming Aldwyn. No one said a word about what had happened and even though dinner turned out a joyful affair, Amrothos found his thoughts never strayed far from Lady Ealith.
Later that night, when he spotted a cloaked figure headed towards the Snowbourn, he decided on a whim to go meet her. "Would you mind the company of another sleepless soul?", he asked when he had caught up with her.
She seemed not happy nor unhappy about having her solitude intruded upon, which he thought was a good sign.
They sat in silence by the riverbank, a thin moon scythe only barely lighting the surrounding plains and the city behind them. When at last Ealith spoke, Amrothos was so surprised to hear the sound of her voice that he almost flinched. "I like the sound of gurgling water. I find it soothing".
"As an Amrothian, I can hardly disagree with that". He took his boots off and stretched his legs in front of him, his toes barely dipping into the river. With the warm season slowly drawing to a close, the Snowbourn level was at a minimum and the water not as cold as it would be in a few months' time.
"Did something happen today?", Ealith asked after another long silence. Seeing him frowning, she clarified: "Alling and my uncle. When they returned home this afternoon, they were both behaving strangely".
Amrothos pondered what he should say and quickly decided the Lady did not deserve to be served a comfortable lie in place of an unpleasant truth. "The Queen invited us all – you included, for supper. Alling said you would not be coming because…", he hesitated, suddenly realizing the words he was about to speak would likely sound like a punch in the guts.
"Because of my ugly scars and of how embarrassed they make me feel", Ealith mercifully finished the sentence for him.
"Yes".
"I see. Unfortunately, tactfulness was never Alling's strong suit and he likes nothing better than reminding me and everyone else that had I followed his advice, I wouldn't have had my precious face mangled".
Amrothos found the way she spoke unsettling. "Do you regret riding to war?".
"No. I felt it was my duty. The only thing I regret is not having been able to duck the blow that struck me at the Morannon. I lied half-unconscious for most of the battle and by the time they managed to get me to the healers, I had already lost too much blood. They said my only chance of surviving was if they stopped the bleeding at once, so they tossed a blade in the fire and had four people hold me still while they cauterized the wound. All I remember is the smell of burnt flesh and pain – searing, blinding pain. And then, darkness".
"Was Alling there?".
"No. He had wanted to ride to Gondor too, but Elfhelm ordered him to stay in Edoras as part of the garrison to whom the King was entrusting the defence of the city. He told me that if he was not riding to war, then I shouldn't have either, for he wouldn't have been able to be there to protect me. Back then, I remember thinking it was such a romantic thing to say".
"And now?".
"Now I try not to think about it".
"Were you already betrothed before the war?".
"No, but we were always sweethearts and it was a foregone conclusion that we'd marry one day. When I returned from Gondor, my face still partially wrapped in bloody bandages, the first thing Alling told me was that nothing had changed for him and that he still wanted me to be his wife. I wept and said yes and had we had it our way, we would have married right away. But my uncle fiercely opposed it. He said we shouldn't rush things and so in the end, we agreed on October the 1st".
Amrothos risked a glance at the lady sitting beside him. For someone set to marry her childhood sweetheart in less than two months, he thought she sounded bitter and disenchanted. Based on what she had just told him and also on what he had seen so far, he could understand why. Alling was an honest young man, he had a good heart and his love for her was most likely genuine. Alas, he wasn't a particularly bright man and appeared to lack all the qualities his bride desperately needed – sensitivity, empathy, unreserved supportiveness. Instead, he was judgmental, overbearing and couldn't even see the boundaries he kept overstepping with every word he spoke.
He suspected that was the reason why Haleth had insisted on delaying the marriage and while he agreed with his decision, Amrothos also knew it wasn't his place to meddle into such private matters and dole out advices without having been asked to.
They remained by the river for a while but talked very little. Just as silently, they later returned to the city and headed each their own way. "Lady Ealith", Amrothos called her before she could vanish into the dark alleys, "in two days' time, the King and the Queen will be leaving for the Hornburg. My family and I will accompany them, as well as Aldwyn. I think it would be nice if you were to join us. Just… just think about it, alright?".
Without waiting for an answer, he bid her goodnight and hurried towards the hall.
Had Éomer had it his way, the ride to Helm's Deep would have taken a week at least – longer perhaps!
At first, Lothíriel had thought she could simply ride there - Rohirric women often rode until late in the pregnancy and she felt like it was almost expected of her to do the same. In the end however, she had reconsidered: even though her belly was by no means huge, her shape and therefore the way she balanced herself had inevitably changed and she didn't want to risk the well-being of her child by falling off her saddle, just because she had been too stubborn and concerned with appearances to do the right thing.
Éomer had sighed in relief at her decision and Míririen had promptly offered to keep her company by traveling in a cart with her – she suspected her sister-in-law wasn't particularly fond of riding and welcomed gladly the idea of being spared the saddle. A compromise between Éomer's insistence that they should only ride a few hours per day – which was honestly ridiculous, and hers that they should be moving dawn till dusk, was eventually reached and after a four days' journey, they came in sight of the fortified gorge.
Lothíriel had seen plenty of illustrations and tapestries depicting the fortress, some of which she had found astonishingly beautiful. As she laid eyes upon the Helm's Deep for the very first time however, she thought none of them had done it justice.
On each side of the gorge, cliffs of smooth, hard rock climbed high into the sky, towered in turn by the majestic three steep-sided peaks of Thrihyrne. The castle itself stood on a black spur of rock and the entire width of the valley was blocked by what was left of the Helm's Dike and the breached Deeping Wall. While Aldburg and Edoras both shared a very Rohirric appearance, what with their characteristic sloping roofs and the sparse use of stone, the Hornburg proudly showed its Gondorian heritage, its beauty both imposing and yet elegant at the same time, but also strangely cold to Lothíriel's eyes.
Erkenbrand - who had been recently appointed Second Marshall, met them at the gates and showed them the way them towards the Great Hall of the Burg. As they crossed the narrow streets, Lothíriel's mind wandered to the last conversation she had had with Prince Théodred and how excited she had been about his invite to spend Summer Finding with him at the Hornburg. Little had they known that by the spring equinox, the Prince and his father would be dead and that the fate of men would rest in the hands of two brave Hobbits, and in the success of an equally courageous diversionary feint on the desolation of the Slag hills.
That evening, they all retired early to their respective rooms and at dawn of the following day, lords and ladies parted ways, with the former headed out of the fortress and the latter determined to visit the Glittering Caves. Their fame proved well deserved: the stunning stalactite caverns contained spectacular formations and although there were obvious tracks of human presence, luckily no mining had ever dared maiming their precious beauty. Even Míririen, who had been unsure until the very last moment whether she would dare entering the underground realm, was in the end so completely captivated that they almost had to forcefully drag her out. Aldwyn made for an excellent guide, proving knowledge not only of the history of the caves, but also of the various types of rocks and the age-long processes that had shaped them to create that incredible landscape. Beyrith listened to her explanations in fascinated curiosity while Ealith – whose decision to join them had come as a surprise, grew progressively talkative throughout the day. She recounted many of her and Aldwyn's mischiefs, and how they would often seek shelter from their parents' wrath in the caves. The angrier they had made them, the deeper they would venture until of course, the inevitable happened: at age eleven, they got lost and spent an entire night wandering the tunnels in search of a way out, before being eventually rescued by a seething Haleth.
It was almost midday when they re-emerged in the outside world. Aldwyn insisted she knew of a place where they could stop for lunch, but Lothíriel decided to decline and return to the hall. The treck inside the cave had exhausted her, her feet were surely swollen and she longed for a restoring afternoon nap in the quiet of her room. Sensing her weariness, Aldwyn suggested they take a shortcut and led the group onto a secondary alley which run parallel to the main one, but was much less crowded and therefore easier to navigate. After a couple of left-right turns, Lothíriel completely lost any sense of direction and only the occasional glimpses of the top level of the Burg getting closer and closer, told her they were heading the right way. Her guards appeared unhappy with the route Aldwyn had chosen and Eofor kept complaining that was not a neighborhood a Queen should be walking by.
The district looked admittedly sketchy, but it was anyway too late to turn back and besides, Lothíriel doubted anyone would dare provoking the ten fully armed men walking in formation around her.
They must have been roughly half-way to the hall, when they run into a small crowd of men and women blocking their way. On one side was a shabby looking building – a tavern most likely, that reeked of ale and other things she'd rather not name. Aldwyn and Ealith shooed the people away and once a way through had been cleared, Balláf signaled to move forward. Busy listening to Míririen and Beyrith singing the praises of the Glittering Caves to one another almost as if it was a competition to see who had the most flattering words to offer, Lothíriel paid little attention to her surroundings and only noticed at the last moment that Aldwyn had come to an abrupt halt and was now towering menacingly over a young woman whose worn-out dress revealed a little too much of her voluptuous curves.
"Aldwyn!", Ealith called her, the edge of warning in her voice going completely ignored by her friend. Muttering something under her breath, she walked back and grabbed her arm: "Enough! She's not worth the trouble and you know it!".
The unknown woman whispered something then and many of those around her turned around and dared a sneering glance at her direction. That proved the last straw for Aldwyn, who grasped her by the neckline of her dress, slammed her against the wall and hit her squarely with a well-aimed punch.
After that, it was chaos.
A second and then a third woman jumped on Aldwyn and soon, the altercation had degenerated into a full-on brawl with at least two dozen people beating each other without probably even knowing why they were doing so. There was the sound of unsheathing swords and in a matter of seconds, Lothíriel found herself picked up by Théocanstan and rushed to the hall in great haste. Feeling a surge of panic, she looked over his shoulder: Aldwyn and Ealith were nowhere to be seen, but at least both Míririen and Beyrith were close behind her, Eofor and two Swan Knights covering their backs.
Erkenbrand's second in command met them at the entrance of the Great Hall, visibly alarmed. "Your Highness, are you well?".
She nodded and as Théocanstan set her back on her feet, she realized her knees were lightly shaking. "A fight broke out. You must send men at once. Lady Aldwyn and Lady Ealith are still out there and probably in danger!".
"Where did it happen?".
She looked at her guards, searching for help. She had no idea where they had been!
"By the back entrance of that ugly tavern nearby the cobbler's workshop", Balláf explained. Before the other man could leave, he added: "Aldwyn started the fight. When you find her, have her detained with the rest of the lot. The King will want to deal with her personally, trust me".
The only thing that kept Éomer from barging into their room, was Balláf's assurance that his wife was unharmed, coupled with Míririen's subtle warning that she was resting. He opened the door quietly and was relieved to find her stretched on the bed but wide awake.
"I am well, Éomer. Please don't worry", she told him before he could say a word.
He kneeled on the mattress and pressed a kiss on her forehead and another one on her belly. "Are you sure we shouldn't call the midwife?".
"Yes, I'm sure. In all honesty, it all happened so fast I barely had the time to feel frightened".
"What exactly happened?".
"I really don't know, Éomer. We were on our way back from the Caves. There were people on the street, but they appeared nonthreatening to me. Next thing I know, Aldwyn was quarrelling with some woman. She hit her and after that, it all escalated awfully quickly. Théocanstan and the rest of the guards carried me back to the hall but in the confusion, we lost sight of Aldwyn and Ealith. I know they have been found and that they are both well, but I haven't talked to them yet".
Éomer pulled a light blanket over her and tucked her in. "I will deal with them, don't worry. Supper is still a couple of hours away. Try to get some rest while I sort this out, all right?".
Uncharacteristically for her, she nodded and didn't even try to argue. That alone told him that while she had not been frightened on the moment, she was definitely distraught now as she contemplated what could have happened, had the Queen's guard not reacted so swiftly.
On his way out, Éomer had a quick word with his men. They gave him some more details, but none of them could say what had prompted Aldwyn's frenzied actions. Left with only one way to find it out, he headed towards the empty guestroom where the young lady was being held into custody. He beckoned the two men watching the door to leave and without even bothering with knocking, he let himself in. Aldwyn must have heard him coming, for she stood right in the center of the chamber, her back to the window. She had a bruise on her cheek and her knuckles were badly scratched, but Éomer did not let that distract him from his fury. "Do you have any idea what you have done?".
"Lord King, I'm…".
"You deliberately put the life of my wife – your Queen!, and our unborn child at risk!", he yelled, his breath coming in short angry gasps.
"I didn't think I'd cause a brawl".
"Don't play dumb, Aldwyn. You know as well as I that punching a stranger on the street while she is surrounded by her own people – half of whom were completely drunk as far as I've heard, is the quickest way to start a fight. One person was stabbed, for Bema's sake! Four more needed the care of the healer and you yourself look a bruised mess!".
"I'm sorry, Lord King".
"Sorry is not enough!", he snapped and brought his face only mere inches from hers. "I want to know what possessed you to do such reckless thing and you better tell me the truth, or I swear I'll have you locked up in the dungeons for the next foreseeable future!".
Aldwyn swallowed and clenched her jaw. She was nervous, scared even. But there was no mistake the anger burning in her pale blue eyes. "It was Lúfa, Lord".
What? "What?".
"The woman I attacked. It was Lúfa. We were walking by the Putrid Hunter and she was hanging around, searching for men interested in her services. When she saw our group, she made a comment about the Queen and I saw red".
"What die she say, Aldwyn?".
"She was boasting about you, saying that now that you have finally managed to put a baby in the Queen's belly, you'd be able to return to her bed and let her take care of your needs. She's a whore of the worst sort, Lord - and that has nothing to do with her profession!".
Éomer had to take a step back and force some air into his lungs.
"When I confronted her, instead of apologizing she insisted that the King of Rohan needed a real woman to sate his appetites, and that a frigid Southern flower would never do. She insinuated she had been your mistress for the past year and a half, and I... I just lost it. I know I should have known better. I just…".
"Has she been saying these things before?".
"Yes. At first it was only occasional bragging. But in time she learned people were morbidly interested in her tattling and used it to her own advantage. Behold the Marshall's mistress! And now, behold the King's mistress", she bellowed. "The first time I heard her boasting about it, was about a year ago. I did not believe her and reported to Prince Théodred. He told me the truth about what had happened between you and Lúfa and threatened the woman he'd banish her from the Hornburg, if he caught her spreading more lies. She was quiet for a while, but the rumor was out there already, and we were unable to eradicate it. Today, when I heard her talking about bedding the King, I feared the Queen might hear her. I only wanted to shut her up, Lord".
"The Queen knows about Lúfa".
Aldwyn looked at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly ajar. "Oh, I-I didn't know…".
"She knows all about her", he said again and Bema, how he wished his cousin had hit him harder that night at the Putrid Hunter! What had his words been? Ah, yes: rumors spread fast. And how right he had been! Most of all, Éomer detested how unfair it was that a dishonorable act he had committed all those months ago, would somehow be used to shame his wife instead of himself - who was after all the culprit. "Aldwyn, while I'm grateful that you would be so protective towards the Queen, I cannot forgive the risk you posed to her today".
"I understand, Lord".
"In normal circumstances, I'd have you removed from Edoras. However, I know how important it is for you to be there when your sister gives birth, so this is what you will do: latest tomorrow, you'll get back to the capital but until further notice, you are forbidden to spend time with the Queen or enter the Golden Hall. Also, you are suspended from active duty".
"Yes, Lord. Thank you for allowing me to stay with my sister".
Amrothos stormed into the Great Hall. Someone told him Éomer was dealing with the riffraff in the dungeons, so he headed downstairs but found himself standing in the pantry instead. With a frustrated growl, he climbed back up and run around like a rabid dog until at last, he heard his voice coming from one of the chambers at the end of the corridor. He kicked the door open and found him standing in front of a large polished table.
"You scum!", he snarled. He charged at him, but a pair of strong arms locked around his chest, pulling him back and keeping his fists from hitting their intended target.
"Brother, calm down!".
"Calm down?! That filthy scoundrel has been cheating on our sister for months, and I should calm down?! I don't bloody care he's the King! I'm going to beat him to a pulp and then I'm going to take our sister home!".
"You don't know what you're talking about".
"Oh, but I do! I went to that tavern where Lothíriel was almost assaulted and heard what those wenches had to say! Did you know he's been keeping a mistress since the beginning of their marriage? Honorable man my arse!", he spat out, "He's just a rascal and doesn't deserve her!". When he heard Erchirion muttering that woman's name, he renewed his struggle and almost managed to break free: "You knew about her and did nothing? Told us nothing?".
"Yes, I know about Lúfa but it's not like you think, Amrothos".
"Oh please, do enlighten me. The bastard fell between her spread legs or what?".
"I never bedded that cursed woman – or any other one for the matter, since I married your sister".
Amrothos looked up. Éomer's eyes were dark pools of rage but there was also something else there. Something he recognized right away: shame. And guilt. "You're a terrible liar, King".
"I'm not lying. I met Lúfa April of last year. I went to the Putrid Hunter with my cousin, I got stupidly drunk and yes, I frolicked with her in the most ignominious way. But I did not bed her and until today, I wasn't even aware the woman had been spreading lies about us".
"I don't believe you! The people at the tavern said they saw you lifting that wench's skirt and having it your way right in front of everyone! What kind of pig does such thing and…".
The slap came out of nowhere, causing his head to snap sideway.
"Enough". His sister's voice was flat, her eyes as hard as steel. "That you'd trust the word of some plastered strangers and barge in here swinging your fists in the air, is grave enough. I will say this only once, so listen carefully, Amrothos: I know about Lúfa, Éomer has made his apologies a long time ago and I have made mines. I forgave him, and he forgave me. That's all there is to know".
"He forgave you? Do you even listen to yourself? Has the man brainwashed you and made you believe that it was somehow your fault he was keeping another woman to warm his bed?".
His sister's right hand balled into a fist and he thought she'd strike him again, but she didn't. "I did my own share of awful things when I first arrived in Rohan, and Éomer and I spent months remedying our mistakes. But this is our marriage, brother, and to no one but us do we owe explanations and apologies for our past behavior. You can either accept this and make amends for the way you attacked the King, or you can leave Rohan immediately. There's no intermediate ground, Amrothos".
"Lothíriel…", her husband tried to speak.
"No, Éomer. You and I, we've had this discussion before and we are not having it again. We put it all behind us and I'm not letting anyone bring it back".
Feeling Erchirion's grip easing, Amrothos jerked away from him. He wanted nothing more but punching his brother-in-law's face, but his sister was standing right in front of him and just the sight of her, heavy with child and yet still trying to protect the bastard in spite of all the evidence against him, drove him insane.
He left without saying a word and slammed the door shut behind him. No one seemed to be around, the corridor was empty and only a couple of guards stood in the Great Hall. Amrothos headed outside and wandered around for a while, not really knowing where he was going and letting his feet take him across the fortress' unfamiliar streets. The sun had just started dropping behind the peaks of White Mountains, when he stumbled upon some sort of training grounds. There were no barracks there, only a hard court and a couple of battered decoys. He stepped onto the arena, conscious that it was a terrible idea but at the same time unable to stop himself: "Hey lads", he greeted with a mocking grin the two men sparring with practice swords.
As expected, that earned him two askance looks.
"How about some real practice with someone who's skilled enough to give you a lesson in swordsmanship?".
As he said so, he grabbed a sword himself and unleashed a series of angry blows on the shield of the taller of the two, driving him back against the fence. He would have rapidly forced him to yield, hadn't it been for the second one who came at him from behind and hit him in the lower back, causing a wave of pain to roll across him. He dodged and rolled to his left, narrowly avoiding a second stroke. Bereft of shield, he was forced to take inordinate risks in quest of a quick, brutal defeat of his opponents. He tried using his greater speed to his advantage, but while the two men wouldn't have stood a chance on a one on one against him, he had to give them that they worked well as a team.
The sound of clashing metal and weary grunts enveloped him and slowly, Amrothos felt his self-control slipping away.
Suddenly, there was blood on his hands – so much blood, and dozens of people fighting all around him. The sandy beach was littered with corpses. Men. Women. Children. They had arrived too late! A member of his crew fell beside him, his guts hanging from a deep gash in his abdomen. Looking into his fear-stricken eyes, he let out a raging howl.
"Amrothos!".
He cut down one after the other the monsters surrounding him. He no longer felt exhaustion. He no longer felt pain. All that mattered was killing. And then killing some more. But the accursed beasts retreated from him, his sword finding nothing but air to cut through.
"Amrothos!".
The mist lifted. The noises around him turned into an eerie silence. The stench of death faded from his nostrils. His right arm was raised above his head, ready to deliver a mighty blow against the splintered shield of the man standing in front of him.
Except there was no shield. And also, no man.
"Ealith?".
Hands raised in front of her, her legs slightly bent in the stance of someone who's ready to dodge any possible incoming attack, Haleth's niece was flushed and panting, sweat trickling down angry red skin. Upon seeing her busted lip, Amrothos instantly dropped his sword and backed away. "I-I'm sorry, Ealith. I did not mean to hurt you. I don't know what took me, I just…".
She frowned, then gasped and explained hurriedly: "It was not you, Amrothos. I got this earlier today while trying to help Aldwyn making it out of the brawl she had started in one piece".
Somehow, he didn't believe her. "You don't need to lie to make me feel better".
Her body no longer tense, Ealith ignored the words of caution whispered by the two men standing behind her and walked closer. "Does it look like a fresh cut to you?".
Amrothos examined it closely. It was recent enough, but there was no fresh blood and it looked like some kind of ointment had been rubbed onto its edges to accelerate the healing process. He checked the rest of her face to make sure there weren't other bruises he might have caused, but the only other visible mark he could see was the one she had gotten at the Battle of the Black Gate. Very little was left of Ealith's right ear and a patch of uneven, mangled skin stretched across the side of her face and upper jaw. "You sure I did not hit you elsewhere?".
"You're fast. But I'm faster".
The smile twitching her lips did little to sooth his angst. Perhaps it was true he hadn't hit her, but the knowledge that he could have, simply horrified him. "Why are you here, Ealith? I might have harmed you, you shouldn't have entered the court!".
"Hadn't I intervened, someone would have remedied a few broken bones today – you, most likely. I told those two idiots to quit the fight at once, but whatever you told them when you challenged them, it got them determined to give you a lesson".
"Maybe I was looking for a beating".
"Why?".
"Something having to do with me trying to assault the King for having cheated on my sister, and with her taking his defense".
Ealith's features settled into a dark scowl. "I never took you for a gullible fool, yet I see this is precisely what you chose to be on this occasion. Lúfa's mouth spews nothing but lies, Amrothos. Problem is, she's been telling them for long enough that there are many who have started believing them. You however, should know better than being one of them".
Amrothos lowered his eyes, shame washing over him. "How can you be so sure she's not telling the truth?".
"I trust what Prince Théodred told Aldwyn. I trust my King and I trust my Queen's judgment. This alone should be good enough, but if you require further proof then by all means, go back to the Putrid Hunter and ask around some more. But this time, before you let the words of some stupid drunkard set your blood on fire, try to actually listen to what you are being told. You'll soon realize none of those who claim they saw Lúfa and the King together with their own eyes, actually really have. You'll also get at least ten different versions of what happened between them and hear wild claims about the King spending most of the past year here - except we all know he didn't".
Not quite knowing what to say, Amrothos walked out of the court and sat on a squeaky bench.
A bleak helplessness was gnawing at him, he wasn't thinking straight - hadn't been for a few days now. He knew why, of course. It would soon be one year to that cursed day on the beach and the closer the date approached, the tighter the noose around his neck and the more vivid the memories. He wanted nothing more but guzzling down a few bottles of liquor until he had passed out, but he was trying not to be a coward. On such days however, it was damn hard to do so: all it took was a little push, and he'd lose himself to a surge of dark, blinding rage that scared him more than anything he had ever faced on the battlefield.
Ealith was right.
He had behaved like a moron, attacked his brother-in-law – the King, for pity's sake!, without even giving him a chance to explain himself and the cherry on top, he had yelled at his own sister and forced her hand. She and Éomer had welcomed him in their home, and that was how he'd repay them? By behaving like a madman? He covered his face with trembling hands, fingers digging into his scalp. When Ealith touched his shoulder, he shuddered, almost fell over. "You really shouldn't have entered the court", he told her again, eyes looking stubbornly away.
"Fine. Next time I'll just toss something at you from a distance. Happy now?".
She was smiling again. And again, he found he did not have it in him to reciprocate the comfort she was hesitantly trying to offer. "I don't know what to do", he said to no one in particular.
"You could start with apologizing. I don't know the Queen well, but she seems to love you very much and I think she and the King will be willing to forgive you".
"Would you do it - forgive me, allow me to stay even though you knew perfectly well I'm an unpredictable lunatic who only needs to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, to go on a murderous rampage?".
"We all came back from the war as broken souls, Amrothos. I don't know what haunts your nights, but I think if there's someone who can understand and forgive, it's them".
He didn't know what happened then. Only that those three treacherous words slipped out of his mouth against his will, causing his guts to churn as if he was standing on a narrow ledge and had slowly but inexorably started leaning over into an abyss of darkness: "I am scared".
Ealith sighed. She sat on the other end of the bench, her legs tucked beneath her. "I am too and as you well know, I myself am not doing a great job at moving past the war and into this marvelous, thriving future everyone keeps rambling about. Sometimes it feels like everybody else around me is galloping forward, while I'm stuck in a quagmire and already lagging far behind. I don't know, Amrothos. Maybe we just need to take it a little step at a time and hope that by the time we have set ourselves free, the rest of the world won't be too far ahead of us".
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her adjusting her hair so her scars would be covered and then wrap a shawl around her head. He felt the urge to stop her but didn't. Instead, he stood up and made for leaving.
"Amrothos", Ealith called him before he could walk wordlessly away, "next time you see Aldwyn, please don't be too harsh on her. She knows what she did was wrong and that she shouldn't have put the Queen in danger. The King didn't go easy on her, nor did Erkenbrand and her parents. I only briefly spoke to her before she left the city and she was truthfully mortified. I know she's impulsive and short-tempered, but if she acted that way it's only because she loves our Queen and would not see her insulted by the likes of Lúfa. Aldwyn likes you, Amrothos, and I think in the coming weeks she'll need your friendship, not your wrath".
He nodded absent-mindedly and went in search of his sister.
Author's notes: Amrothos couldn't have it too easy in Rohan, could he? I quite like the way his story is evolving and hopefully, you liked it too!
xXMizz Alec VolturiXx: it was meant to be a sugar packed chapter, I admit it!
ValkSkadi: difficult indeed! Yes, I agree - that is also another reason why I was keen on exploring Amrothos' storyline within Heart and Home. Timewise, it just seemed to make sense! :)
Katia0203: a goldendoodle, how adorable! Actually reading your comment I got a moment of panic thinking I picked a female name by mistake for Haleth. I went back checking and thankfully it's indeed a male name amongst the Rohirrim. I admit it's been some years since I last read the Silmarillion and had completely forgotten about that story and the name of the character. Went back to it and absolutely loved it, you are right!
Rho67: a story from the puppy POV would be probably too sweet :) I'm sure he'd simply adore everything and everyone lol! Seems like Lothíriel shares your concerns, so we will see what the next chapters will bring for our dear Prince…