Chapter 40
Rohan, September the 15th, 3019
The chance to leave Edoras for a few days came unexpected and Amrothos did not hesitate to grab it. Lothíriel had been surprised by his decision: he had just recently started taking lessons of Rohirric and even more importantly, she had come to rely on him. A day rarely went by without either her or Éomer asking him to get involved in yet another project and while he normally appreciated that, lately things had started taking a turn he didn't like. More specifically, his concerns had to do not so much with the tasks given to him, but rather with the people in whose company he was forced to spend his time with.
Namely: Ealith and Alling.
It appeared that his sister had taken a liking to the shieldmaiden and because her kinship to Haleth made her implicitly trustworthy, she had quickly become more and more involved in life at court. As per Alling… well, he was her shadow, so it was practically impossible to get one without the other.
Amrothos run a hand through his hair, his foul mood and continuous shifting in the saddle causing his stallion to wring his neck.
The worst thing about the entire situation was that Alling didn't deserve his hatred. He was a kind-hearted man, possessed a good nose for business and, from what he had seen, he was also a decent fighter. He had only ever heard good things about him and yet – Valar forgive him, he really did hate him! He just couldn't help it. Everything about the man irked him and at times, he found it difficult to even just be in the same room with him and breath the same bloody air without chocking on it! So, when the news had come of a small disorganized host of orcs roaming the slopes of the mountains, he had promptly offered to join the group of men riding out to intercept them.
Héostor – one of Éomer's senior riders, was in charge of the patrol and already during their first day, they had tracked and killed a handful of the vile creatures. They suspected more might be holed up somewhere deeper into the valley but decided to postpone the chase to the following day and spend the night in the nearby village of Hadleigh - a fact that caused some excitement among the younger and unmarried members of the group.
Amrothos had never quite understood the appeal of brothels. Or better said: he understood it, but it had never affected him the way it did other men, and he was inclined to consider it a point of pride. Had it been possible, he'd have looked for accommodation elsewhere, but he already knew there were no other inns in town. He also briefly considered the idea of camping somewhere around the stables, but dark clouds were thickening around the mountain peaks. It was only a matter of time until a downpour of rain was unleashed upon them, and he'd rather have a roof above his head when that happened.
The inside of the brothel was… average, he guessed. Clean enough and with a bill of fare that went beyond the offer of paid intimacy. As it often happened, as the hour grew late Amrothos found himself facing the same old inconvenience of being the only sober person in the room. Not only that, but the more his companions drunk, the more they lost their ability of speaking the common language with the result that by midnight, he couldn't even understand what the two blokes sitting beside him were rambling about. Feeling his patience wearing thin, he moved to sit by the counter in the hope he'd at least manage to get a hold of some water.
"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself".
The woman making the drinks was older than the rest of the girls scurrying around and even though he had never met her before, Amrothos thought he knew her: "Saehild, right?".
Her head jerked up, ale spilling over from the pint she was refilling. "Few know me by that name around here". She studied him for a moment, then beckoned him to follow her into a dimly lit backroom. The feeble glow of a rusty oil lamp cast eerie shadows against the empty walls. There was only one chair and after having each insisted that the other should take it, they silently agreed they would both stand. "I had not expected the Queen to relate to anyone about our encounter".
"Why wouldn't she?".
"Because of what this place is. Because of what we do here…".
Amrothos found her discomfort amusing. "You seem embarrassed".
"Oh please, of course I am! It's also not everyday that the madam of a brothel finds out not only that the Queen remembers about their encounter, but that she spoke of it with her family!".
His hearty laughter filled the room. "She also told me you served her the worst ale she has ever had. Mayhap knowing this will balance things out?". Saehild muttered something in Rohirric and it was probably for the best that he couldn't understand. "My sister simply told me what happened when she was abducted. She told me about being rescued by Théocanstan first, the King and his men then. And she told me about spending some days in a small village called Hadleigh, about staying at a brothel of all places. She said you offered her comfort and a shoulder to cry on during dark, sleepless hours".
"The Queen is too kind", whispered Saehild. She produced a little iron key from inside her pocket and used it to open the single drawer of a worn-out desk. Inside was a yellowed paper that she handled like it was her most precious possession: "Two weeks after she left, she wrote me this. Can you believe it? The King had assured me I'd be compensated for the disruption to business their stay had caused and I never doubted he'd keep his word. But to have his wife – a former Princess of Gondor!, writing me a letter in her own hand?! I almost fell off my chair when I received it!".
"Did you ever write her back?".
"Certainly not! It wouldn't be appropriate! Can you even imagine what the messenger would think upon delivering my letter to the Queen?".
"Yes, I see your point", he was forced to admit. "But what if I was the messenger? I surely wouldn't think ill of it! Think about it, Saehild: we will be leaving tomorrow at dawn and should you want me to deliver a letter to the Queen, I'd be happy to oblige. After you helped her in a moment of need, it's really the least I can do".
The madame appeared bewildered. "We don't get many foreigners here. You are the first Gondorian I've ever met and I can safely say you are proving wrong every little prejudice I had about your people".
"Ah, but that is not true for you've met my sister!".
"Aye, right you are. It's just easy to forget about her heritage for she is one of us. Bema knows if even half of the things I've heard about her are true, she earned her place a thousand times over!".
"Indulge me, Saehild: what have you heard?".
"That she set the King free when he was imprisoned".
"That I can confirm. What else?".
"That she confronted the King's Chief Councillor – the traitorous one!, and that guards had to disarm and restrain her to keep him out of harm's way".
"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you on this one: she did confront him, but it was a battle of wits – no physical violence involved".
"It is mildly disappointing", Saehild conceded, "On the other hand, the Councillor had a reputation for being a weakling, yes, but a dangerously cunning one. Prevailing in a battle of wits against the likes of him is surely more remarkable than simply running him through a sword".
Amrothos scoffed pridefully at his sister's popularity. "What about those prejudices you mentioned? May I ask what they are about?".
"Oh, you know, the same old hearsays. Gondorian are haughty. They don't know how to ride properly. They are all hook-nosed. They…".
The list was cut short by his roaring laughter: "Hook-nosed? Who told you that?".
"The old herbalist at the village where I grew up. She claimed Gondorians were all gangly and hook-nosed, with black greasy hair".
"Had she ever met one?".
"I doubt it. But she was one of those people who spoke like they know what's what, even when they have no clue at all. In hindsight, I reckon I should have known better than believing her nonsense".
"My nose passes the test then?", he asked, half-turning so he could display his profile – which he modestly thought was a handsome one.
"Aye, Prince, you pass with full marks. I only hope that if some your countrymen will happen to visit Hadleigh in the future, they'll prove better patrons: you've drunk naught but water and hardly looked at my girls! I may very well go busted here!", Saehild scolded him. She pointed at the window, but all Amrothos could see outside was the dark shape of a cabin battered by the rain: "I live there, just across the street. It's not much, but there's a cot and wood to build a fire. I won't retire until dawn, so if you want to catch some sleep away from your raucous friends, feel free to do so".
Amrothos was easily convinced and after a good night's rest, at first light he was already up and ready to ride, looking much fitter than the rest of the men. Héostor had their tracker Balfa guide them away from Hadleigh and through the thick forest: hardly a grown man, at barely nineteen years old the lad moved with an ease that men several years his senior rarely possessed, his eyes scanning the surroundings in search of the tell-tale signs of orcs presence. Some time during the late morning he paused to examine the leaves' covered ground, a frown marring his brow.
"Warg".
Nobody said a word, but the shift in the mood was palpable in the air. Balfa dismounted and followed the tracks on foot for about half a mile, until something above him caught his attention: a trail of broken twigs reaching well above a horse's head.
Amrothos felt the pommel of his sword and looked carefully around: he had never faced a warg but had heard enough to know they were anything but pretty.
"It was chasing a deer - a full grown stag I reckon".
"Would a lonely warg be able to take it down?".
"If hungry and desperate, it might try. Stags are fierce fighters and with the rut coming in full swing, they are well equipped to defend themselves".
That much they all knew, for the distant bellowing of the males had accompanied their journey since the moment they had entered the woods.
Further down the valley, the tracks became more apparent, the pawprints left by the warg easily recognizable in the fresh layer of mud the night's rain had brought. They moved cautiously for another couple of miles, the tracks pointing that the stag had times and again turned and attempted facing his opponent, only to be forced to move in circles. As the forest thinned out, they spotted dozens of crows and raptors flying high over the treetops, a few hundred feet away. They approached the site quietly, circling around so they could get a view of what lied ahead from a vantage point.
For once, their eyes were met with the sight they had hoped for, and not the one they had dreaded.
The carcass of the warg was slumped on the ground, dark blood staining the rocky terrain, birds swiftly picking bits of flesh off its bones at their own peril, for an adult bear had already claimed possession over it. He mostly ignored them, but the occasional sweep of a clawed pawn reminded them he was not one to be trifled it.
Balfa had ensured they were leeward from the site of the slaughtering. Their presence went thus unnoticed and it wasn't long until someone decided to take advantage of it. Spears in hand, two riders dismounted with the obvious intention of killing the bear, but found Balfa barring their way: "Héostor, sir", he addressed their leader in a low, yet firm voice, "I think it would be best to let the bear be".
One of the hunters looked at him with eyes almost bulging out of their sockets: "Have you lost your mind?! That bear is a rare prize! Just look at it: nicely fattened ahead of hibernation and with a thick, healthy fur… its fat and pelt alone will be worth a small fortune! And don't get me started with the meat!".
Balfa ignored him and remained focused on Héostor: "There have been numerous sightings of lonely wargs in these valleys. In a pack, they are strong and need not fear other wild animals. But scattered and famished as they are, they have to watch themselves: bears and wolves can take them down and even though it is likely they try to stay out of each other's way, they still compete for food. I say let the bear go, sir, and hope that either directly or indirectly, it'll rid us of a few more of those accursed devils".
Héostor hardly needed to agree. The two would-be-hunters knew defeat when they saw it and between curses of disappointment and praises for the boy who was too clever for his own good, they stowed away their weapons and returned to their horses.
"What do you think happened?", Amrothos asked the young tracker.
"Hard to say from up here. My guess is the stag managed to injure the warg. The bear then either finished it off or sniffed its carcass and came for a free meal. Give it until night-time and and there will be nothing left of it".
"Have you ever fought wargs?".
"Aye, most of us have. They are vicious and bloody intelligent. Let's hope winter will claim as many of them as possible".
He nodded in agreement and returned his eyes to the lifeless predator. Distant as he was, he could hardly make the details. One thing struck him though: its sheer size. The fact that his sister had once found herself facing not one, but two of those beasts and managed to make it out alive and in one piece, was nothing short of miraculous. He trained his eyes away, the blatant selfishness of his actions suddenly hitting at him: he had left Lothíriel with barely a word of farewell despite knowing how overburdened she was and how difficult it was for her to keep up with her duties now that the end of her pregnancy was fast approaching.
He should be with her right now, not chasing foes in the woods trying to escape whatever silly feelings he had developed for someone who was promised to another and was clearly not interested in him.
"Keep your eyes closed!".
"They are closed!", she protested right before a hand landed on her face to ensure they were shut.
She thought she knew where Éomer was taking her, but after a sequence of weird turns which she suspected were taken with the sole purpose of disorienting her, she was utterly lost. They could have been in the Golden Hall or at the outer gates, for all she knew! "Will this continue for much longer? I'm tired!", she groused.
"Ah, now you are tired?! When you are exhausting yourself and I try to get you to rest, first you say you are perfectly fine and then accuse me of being overprotective. Now, all of a sudden, you are tired?!".
"Fine, I'm just curious! Come Éomer, you must convene this whole blindfolding subterfuge is completely unnecessary. I could trip and fall!".
She didn't need to see him to know he was offended: "I'm holding you, do you think I'd let you fall?! Besides, I offered to take you, but you refused!".
There was a distant chuckling – the mirth of a maid who happened to be witnessing one of their spats, no doubt. Lothíriel considered asking her where she was, even if just to upset Éomer, but changed her mind when they came to a halt. A door was opened and she was guided past it. "You can open your eyes now".
She blinked a couple of times, trying to get acquainted with the unusual brightness. The air smelled of paint, the floor was covered in a thin, slippery layer of dust. The room was completely unadorned, save for eight cushioned chairs and an oak table that appeared to have been recently restored. Looking up, her eyes were met with the sight of a beautiful criss-cross of red beams rising to carve something akin a dome into the ceiling. A chandelier was supposed to be hanging from the tiny hole at the top, but as it was the only source of light was a big window and two smaller ones. "What is this room? It's beautiful, why was I never here?".
"We are in the abandoned wing. When you moved to Edoras, nobody thought it worth of your attention. And after we returned from Minas Tirith, I made sure you stayed unaware of its existence".
"Why?".
"Because I wanted it to be a surprise. Once we knock down those two walls over there", said Éomer pointing at the corridor, "we'll be able to incorporate this room into the Royal Apartments". He walked out and returned moments later dragging a chest behind him.
Lothíriel lifted the lid and gasped: "Your mother's books!", she exclaimed and finally understood the purpose of that room, "You want to turn this chamber into a solar!".
"I want it to be more than that. A place where we invite none but those who we consider family. A place to seek shelter from our worries. Our haven, Lothíriel, like the one in Aldburg was to my parents. I know you adored that place, so I asked for my mother's book collection to be brought over. I had that table renovated and the walls painted. Everything else, I'd like to do with you".
"Oh Éomer, this is…", she forced back a tear, refusing to cry over something as beautiful as that, "… this is perfect. I love it already".
He cupped her face, his beard tickling the skin of her cheeks. They stayed so for a moment, simply enjoying each other's closeness and forgetting momentarily about everything else. "There's one thing I don't understand: how did you manage to renovate this room without me noticing?".
"The noisiest part of the job was done while we were at the Hornburg. Aside from that, material was brought in at night, while you were sleeping already. And at day, I had a guard – two actually, keeping a lookout and ensuring you wouldn't suspect anything".
"No, you didn't!".
"What was I to do? You can be nosey, when you want to. Had you even remotely suspected something was happening in Meduseld that you were not aware of, my surprise would have been ruined".
She thought of rebuting him but had to concede he was right.
"How would you like the place to look like? Any idea already?".
Lothíriel walked around the room, counting her steps to judge its size. It was definitely smaller than the solar in Aldburg but because of that, it gave a cosier vibe. "Do you think…", she hesitated and bit her lower lip, "do you think it would be appropriate for me to have some Gondorian pieces brought in?".
"Why wouldn't it?".
"Well, you know, the whole Queen of Rohan thing. I wouldn't want people to think ill, just because they see me furnishing the Golden Hall with…".
The tip of a callous finger interrupted her. "This is precisely what I was talking about. Here, I am no King and you are no Queen, we have no obligations or expectations to answer to. And if we want this room to look like a Gondorian corner right in the heart of Rohan, then be it!".
Lothíriel smiled. Ever since her family had left, she had been feeling nostalgic. It was as if having fixed things with her father, she had rediscovered a longing for her childhood home - not a painful, heart wrenching one, but rather a healthy feeling of sporadic sadness. "I used to have a sitting room in Dol Amroth and I'd like to have some of its cabinets and armchairs placed here. They'd fit nicely, I think".
"Write your father and ask him to send them over".
She clapped her hands and twirled around: "I shall do it right away!".
Éomer never left her side that day, which was odd for he was normally very busy and only returned to Meduseld in the evening. He also had this smugness about him, like he knew something nobody else did and was so enormously amused about it. It wasn't long until Lothíriel concluded he must have really be hiding something but when asked, of course he denied. He insisted they had supper in the solar and when they entered the room, she noticed the table had been set for five and that the smell of paint had been replaced by that of her two favourite dishes: beef and raisins stew and baked onions. "Who are our guests?", she ventured asking, only to receive a vague you will see as answer.
Sitting at the head of the table, Lothíriel tapped her feet impatiently against the rugged floor. She was tempted to remove the cloche from her plate and start eating, but Ealith's timely arrival distracted her: "Good evening, my Lady, my Lord. I hope I'm not late?".
"Not at all, please take a seat. I heard Alling won't be joining us?".
"He is feeling unwell, so I thought it best for him to stay home and rest".
Lothíriel could not say she was disappointed. Alling was a lovely man, but only when taken alone – meaning without Ealith by his side. Whenever they were together, he had this awful habit of transforming into an overbearing mother hen and one way or another, he always managed to spoil the evening for everybody. "You seem to have seen this room before", Lothíriel pointed out, noticing how her guest had taken a seat without as much as a word of praise about the solar.
"I must plead guilty, my Lady".
"Ealith is among those who helped me keeping this a secret. Not only that, but she is also the one who pointed me to where I could find an appropriate dining table", Éomer explained, his knuckles tapping the glossy surface.
"It is a masterpiece", Lothíriel convened, leaning back to admire the intricately carved legs, "Where did you get it from?".
"Meduseld's cellars are stuffed with all kind of things. This table belonged to Théoden King's wife, Lady Elfhild. A couple of years ago, Grima had it removed from the Royal Apartments and brought to the cellars, together with what little else was left of her belongings. I know because it upset my father greatly and he asked me to ensure it had been stored properly. Together with Aldwyn, with the excuse of visit Beywyn in the kitchen, we sneaked in the cellar and saw to it". A veil of sadness clouded Ealith's eyes at the mention of her father, but she shook it swiftly away.
"Are you well acquainted with what else is stored down there?".
"Moderately. Aldwyn and I sneaked in several times to snoop around", she admitted with a nervous laughter.
"Then if you don't mind, I will ask for your help in the coming days".
"Of course, my Lady. I'm always happy to be of service. May I ask what is it about?".
"Part has to do with brining the Golden Hall back to its original splendour. There are so many rooms and corridor with hardly a painting or a tapestry. I'd like to spruce things up and I hope there's more than just tables hidden in those cellars. The other matter I'd like your counsel about is way less pleasant, I'm afraid: I need to choose my ladies in waiting".
"You don't seem thrilled".
"That's because I'm not. I'd gladly go without a court of ladies to keep entertained, but I reckon it is expected of me and it would be most unwise to ignore this duty".
"I agree, my Lady. I've already heard several among the wives and daughters of the advisors discreetly voicing their discontent about it".
Lothíriel kept from voicing her own discontent at the prospect of spending any amount of time in the company of those who she assumed were most likely harpies. "I could use a friendly face. I know you'll be staying at the Hornburg but whenever you are in town, I'd like to count you among my ladies in waiting".
Ealith blushed a deep red. "You honour me, my Queen. I'll make sure to visit as often as I can".
"Good. When the time is right, I'll invite Aldwyn too".
Her guest could not contain her laughter. "She too will be honoured. You'll always be able to count on her unconditioned support, but I feel I should point out Aldwyn does not excel in all those activities ladies in waiting normally like to dedicate their time to".
"Embroidery?".
"For example".
"Excellent. I'm completely helpless with a needle and it wouldn't be appropriate for the Queen to be the worse embroideress in the room, don't you think?".
"Right. Aldwyn's your lady then: she was never any good with womanly duties. Give her an arch and she'll best most of the men. But give her a ladle and she'll poison half of the city!".
"Really? That bad?".
"You have no idea, my Lady! She has no sense of measure: she either undercooks or burns everything to a crisp. She either puts no salt at all, or so much that you'll die of instant thirst. Her skills – or lack of, might prove an asset in this case: whenever you want to get rid of your ladies in waiting for a couple of days, just have Aldwyn cook something for them".
"I'll keep that in mind", she chuckled, one hand rubbing her belly in a vain soothing attempt. "He doesn't like it when I sit. As long as I walk, it's all good. But the moment I sit, he starts kicking".
"She", Éomer corrected her.
"He", she insisted, causing Ealith to giggle. "The King thinks we are going to have a girl. I am convinced it's a boy. Who do you think is right?".
"I…", her eyes darted back and forth. At last, she cleared her voice and declared: "Maybe it's twins. A boy and a girl".
"Ah, you are your uncle's niece alright!", Éomer burst out laughing.
The door behind them opened. Lothíriel turned around to see who the other two mysterious guests were and for a moment, she was confused as to whether she was still in Edoras or had travelled back to Aldburg instead.
"Your Highness", Gárwine greeted her with an impeccable bow. A twinkle that she could only describe as mischievous brightened his warm brown eyes as he stepped aside to let a much shorter figure come in.
Lothíriel was on her feet before Dúnor had a chance to bow himself. The child returned her embrace with just as much vigour before suddenly loosening the grip around her neck: "I'm not hurting you?", he asked glancing down at her belly with a concerned look.
She kissed both his cheeks: "Of course not. And if the Queen hugs you, you must hug her back!". His smile was not as toothless as she remembered and now that she gave him a good look, she realized that was hardly the only thing that had changed: "Oh my, you have grown so much!".
"Two inches since we last met! Grandma measures me every month! And every Sunday Gárwine and I train together, so I'm also stronger!".
The old rider ruffled his hair: "It's not like you give me much of a choice: you knock at my door at dawn and refuse leaving until you've gotten what you wanted. Although, I have to give credit where due: Dúnor has been putting as much effort into improving his skills with a blade as with learning how to read and write. Ask anyone and they'll you what a model student he is!".
"Is it true?".
He nodded enthusiastically: "Yes! This way when I grow up, I can join the Queen' guard! Grandma says dolts aren't allowed".
That did it: she had stoically kept from crying when Éomer had shown her the solar. She had held the tears at bay upon seeing Gárwine and Dúnor. But there was no way she wasn't going to weep after those words. She knew the boy was but a child and may very well change his mind about a thousand times in the coming years, but that didn't diminish the sweetness of his declaration: "Is that really what you want?".
"Of course. First, I will train to become a rider. Then, I will ride with Marshall Elfhelm's Eored. After I have proven myself, I will move to Edoras". He paused and turned to look at Gárwine: "Will I sleep in the hall? Or will I need to build my own house?".
There was a collective laughter. "I think there's plenty of time to figure out the details of your accommodation. Worst case, the Queen can get you a spot in the stables".
"In Firefoot's box", Éomer chimed in.
"Not with the brute!". Dúnor's horrified expression was too hilarious for Lothíriel to keep a straight face.
After a tearful start, the evening whiled away pleasantly. Éomer relinquished his chair so she could sit between Gárwine and Dúnor and for a few hours, Lothíriel forgot about being Queen and all that. She knew that was why Éomer wanted them to have a place for themselves and silently vowed to never let anyone but those who held a place in their hearts inside that room.
Much to Dúnor's disappointment - who clearly had a crush on her, Ealith was the first one to retire. Shortly afterwards Éomer followed suit, giving her the chance to spend some time alone with her friends. It was around midnight, with the child long fallen asleep with his head laid on her lap, that they finally decided to call it a night: "Let me take him", Gárwine offered, slowly picking him up so not to wake him.
"Where are you staying?".
"At my sister's. I had not visited her in a while and she was more than happy to host me and the little one for a few days".
"I'd offer you one of our guestrooms, but I'm afraid we don't have an inch to spare at the moment".
"Nothing to be sorry about, Lady. It was generous of you to open the doors of the Golden Hall to those in need".
"It was the least we could do. Still, it bothers me to see so many families forced to spend the winter in such precarious conditions".
"Sleeping on a cot in the hall is not the most luxurious option perhaps, but the place is nicely warm and each of your guests is being looked after. Next spring things will get better, I'm sure".
"Let us hope", she sighed, holding the door open and signalling the guard she'd see them out. "I miss Aldburg".
"And Aldburg misses you - very much".
"Are the people not happy with Marshall Elfhelm?".
"Oh, they are - he's doing a great job and his wife is a lovely lady. Still, we miss seeing our dear Princess exploring town, paper and chalk in one hand to capture some unexpected hidden beauty. Did you know many young ladies have taken to meet at the old watchtower?".
"I don't believe it. Even Runhild was scared of that place!".
"I swear. It's become a fashionable spot to have a picnic, like you and Éomer used to. Your beloved kites don't seem to care: they still nest atop the tower, although no one is making portraits of them nowadays".
"As it is, I wouldn't have time for it anyway. Why, I can't even remember the last time I sketched something".
"I know, the King told me. I think it is why he insisted we visit you – he is worried you are asking too much of yourself".
"He does the same. There's just too much to do, and too little time".
"Aye, but the King is not carrying a child. You can't fix all Rohan's problems at once, no matter how hard you try".
She smiled at him. "I've missed your good advices, Gárwine. Any chance you would consider relocating to Edoras?".
"I'm afraid Marshall Elfhelm – not to mention my wife and an entire brood of grandchildren, wouldn't be too pleased if I did".
"Ah well, it was worth a try", she shrugged, lowering her voice a notch as they entered the Hall. Though some were still awake playing dices by the fire, most were sleeping already, their cots lined up neatly along the walls. "It's hard to believe it's been over six months since the day I left Aldburg", she spoke, her mind recalling the events of that faithful day, "The city will always hold a special place in my heart. It's where I fell in love with this land, with my husband. Where everything started", she mused reaching down to caress her belly.
"Next summer I shall visit you", she vowed, "Éomer and I can stop while on our way back from Éowyn's wedding. Then you and Dúnor can meet the Prince and show me everything that has changed since we left".
"We'll be counting down the days, Lady".
By the time Amrothos emerged from his room, it was already late morning. He rarely overslept but he had been so bone-tired the evening before, that the moment his head had touched the pillow he had all but passed out.
He walked by the Hall with the intention of having lunch with his sister but instantly changed his mind when he found her surrounded by a tattling flock of women. He moved to the library and spent the first part of the afternoon together with his tutor, who seemed torn whether he was the best student he had ever had, or rather the worst.
Amrothos knew he was good with vocabulary - spending most of his time with locals, he had expanded quickly his knowledge. The grammar though, that was an entirely different matter… He just couldn't make sense of it! Every time he thought he had gotten the hang of something, it relentlessly proved him wrong with yet another brand-new set of exceptions to the rules he had just learned.
What kept him going was the wish to be able to communicate more freely, and the fact that he actually liked the sound of the language. He had also come to appreciate the nuances of its various accents. The folks from the Folde and the Eastemnet had a musicality about them and, based on what Lothíriel had told him, they spoke a dialect that was hard to understand. Those hailing from the East-mark where the exact opposite: flat toned and, according to any Gondorian, rather harsh sounding. Amrothos respectfully disagreed and thought it sounded surprisingly elegant and sophisticated. As per the Westfold folks, well: to him they sounded exactly like their Eastern counterparts, but he was not going to make the same mistake again and tell it out loud just to cause the outrage of both parties involved – the rivalry between the two regions was not something to be trifled with, clearly!
"Beorg… beorg…", Amrothos mouthed the word, "ought to be masculine, right?".
"Wrong, it's a stem".
He groaned, head hanging back: "I refuse to accept there is not a way to determine the gender of a word. For what do nouns need a gender anyway? A mountain it's a mountain!".
His tutor shook his head disapprovingly: "The Queen is a much better pupil, I must say".
Amrothos rolled his eyes. Of course his bookworm sister would beat him in everything intellectual. And even if she didn't, the old man would surely find a way to praise her over him. He appreciated his loyalty – he really did, but he could use some words of encouragement!
A knock on the door distracted him.
"I thought I'd find you here. Welcome back".
In a display of impeccable gallantry that would make his Amrothian tutors proud, Amrothos stood and pressed a light kiss on his sister's knuckles. Then, in a display that would surely horrify them, he engulfed her in a bear hug. "I passed by the hall this morning, but you seemed busy and I didn't want to disturb you".
"When I'm in that company, I demand you disturb me as much as you can", she whispered so only he could hear.
"And be fed to a swarm of prattling women? I'm not so sure…".
"Well, you look like you could use some help right now. So how about we call it an exchange of favours? I rescue you today, and you rescue me next time".
"Deal - another senseless grammar notion and I might just implode".
Lothíriel pulled a straight face and turned to address his tutor. "I apologize for the interruption, but I need my brother's help in a rather urgent matter".
"Of course, your Highness", the man obliged and after quickly collecting his books, he bowed and left.
"I owe you", Amrothos sighed once they were alone.
"I'll keep that in mind. How did the patrol go?".
"Good. We obliterated the orcs and tracked down a warg. Fortunately, a bear beat us to it".
Lothíriel shivered, her arms reaching protectively around her. "Bema be praised. Let us hope the winter will finish them off".
"It likely will. And even if it doesn't, your riders will purge any survivor".
She smiled. "Dúnor, the child whose parents were killed by the wargs, is here".
"Is he?".
"Yes. Éomer surprised me and had both Dúnor and Gárwine come to Edoras for a few days. They will be leaving tomorrow, so you must join us for supper later today – it will be served in the solar, but I think I hardly need to tell you that", she sniggered.
"Which solar?".
"No need for secrecy. Éomer showed me the place some days ago already. I must say I'm impressed by how you managed to keep me from suspecting anything". Seeing the confusion on his face, Lothíriel paused, brows almost disappearing into her hairline: "They did not tell you?".
"Tell me what? What are you talking about?".
His sister must have found the whole situation hilarious, for she burst into a peal of laughter: "Your tattletale's reputation has made it to Rohan, I suppose! You see, we used to have a solar in Aldburg and it was our favourite place in the entire household. Éomer had one of the rooms in the abandoned wing renovated so we can turn it into one. He had so many people involved, I just assumed you'd be one of them".
"I was not and I must say, I am offended. I shall have a word with the King. I'm no tattletale!", he declared feeling more than a little insulted.
It only made his sister laugh harder. "You were never particularly good at keeping secrets. May I remind you, you told me about Míririen and Erchirion before he had a chance to do it himself?".
"That was… a jest! He was anyway going to tell you!".
Lothíriel was on the verge of tears. "I've missed you, Amrothos. You really do wonders for my mood".
"Great. So now I'm a tattletale and a court jester".
"No, just a very supportive brother who knows how to lift his sister's spirit after she has spent an entire morning establishing her ladies in waiting".
"So that's what that circus was about. Why do you even bother?".
"Unfortunately, I must. Can you believe that during our first session, they all but demanded I tell them the name we have chosen for the baby?".
"You've chosen one?".
"Two. One in case it's a girl – just to make Éomer happy, and then the real one".
"Which is…".
"I'm certainly not going to tell you! And before you get all riled up, it has nothing to do with your tattle-tale reputation. We simply don't want anyone to know".
"Well give me a hint at least!", he begged without an ounce of shame.
"No. And that's my final word!".
"So cruel".
"I'll take that as a compliment". Her smile faded and she stretched to rest a hand on his shoulder: "Are you feeling better, Amrothos? I was quite concerned after you left…".
"You know me, I can't sit too long in the same place. I just needed some action", he tried dodging the question.
Lothíriel likely knew he was lying, but chose to let it slip. "It does not involve swords and horses, but maybe I can give you a little action for today".
"I'm all ears".
"At my request, Ealith has spent the past three days in the cellars looking for tapestries and other ornaments. I hadn't expected it would be that difficult to locate them. I already sent a maid earlier this morning to tell her to give up, but she's a stubborn one. Maybe you'll have better success".
Oh dear. Of all the things his sister could ask his help for, it had to do with Ealith! He thought about fabricating some excuse, but what could he say that wouldn't let her suspect he was hiding something? She'd force him to spill the beans – he knew she would!, and he was not ready for it: as far as he was concerned, his was a simple infatuation and he only had to hold out for another week. Ealith and Alling would leave for the Hornburg then and he'd get over it.
Easy easy.
"You know her as well as I do. She won't be happy until she has seen to your request. Give her until the end of today. I'm sure she'll find what she's searching for", he decided to play safe.
"No, it is not right that she's spending the days ahead of her wedding all alone in those dark cubicles. Go and convince her to come out – by all means necessary!".
There was just no arguing with his sister. "I will try", he capitulated, and step after step, he dragged himself downstairs.
He had been in the cellars before, but had never made it past the first section, where the pantry was located. Beyond it, the corridor split in three and with a disheartened sigh, Amrothos headed down the only illuminated aisle. He followed the echo of muffled noises and entered one of the larger storerooms, where he was confronted with a less than reassuring sight: presumably aiming at something stored high up, Ealith had decided to climb over the shelves and was now hanging precariously, four or five feet above the ground. She reminded him of Endien the day she had attempted climbing his sister's bookcase, only to find herself hanging for dear life and regretting dearly her poor life choices. "Have you gone mad? You'll fall and break your neck. Get down!".
"Oh, hello Amrothos. I didn't know you are back", she grunted and climbed further up.
"I said get down!", he ordered, hell-bent on grabbing her by force, if that was what it took to get her back with her feet where they belonged to – the floor!
"Not when I finally found what I was looking for!", she refused, stretching to grab the edge of a rolled tapestry.
"I'll find a ladder and get it. Now, get down!", he repeated for the umpteenth time.
"A little pull, that's all it needs. Come up here and give me a hand. It will only take a moment".
"You want me to climb that thing? Are you insane?! It will bury us both!".
"Don't be so tragic, it's bolted to the wall and sturdy enough. Now, are you coming to help me or not?".
"Bloody stubborn indeed", he muttered angrily.
He tested one of the ledges and to Ealith's credit, it did seem stable enough. That didn't mean it was a good idea to climb it, he thought while at the same time he was doing exactly that: climbing it. He scrambled up two levels, until he was shoulder to shoulder with the crazed woman: "What now?".
"Grab that corner and pull. I think it's stuck into something".
He did as asked and pulled once, then twice. Right before he could make another attempt, the entire structure produced what he could only describe as a cry of imminent debacle. Both he and Ealith instantly let go and as it turned out, she really was the Endien of the situation, landing effortlessly on her feet while he ended up sprawled on the dirty floor, rear and whatnot aching already.
"I'm so sorry, Amrothos. Are you hurt?".
He stifled a grimace. "You almost got us killed, woman!".
She helped him up and checked him for injuries. She was coughing, or at least he though she was. When he looked at her, he was astonished to find her stifling a laughter. "What's so funny?!".
"Nothing, really".
"Ealith?".
"It's just… something Míririen used to joke about…", she confessed between the chuckles, "about Amrothian princes being less graceful than one would expect".
"Less graceful?!", he almost chocked, "You got me up there!".
"I know and I'm sorry!", she apologized again before finally yielding to the hilarity of the situation. Amrothos' scorn simply dissolved into thin air and soon, they were both laughing hysterically. "You should have seen yourself!".
"Me?! What about you, hanging from that thing and going smugly about how perfectly safe it was!".
"It was safe, until mister lightweight stepped on it!".
"Are you calling me fat?".
"Sturdy. I'm calling you sturdy".
"Like the shelf".
"Like the shelf".
He was fairly sure the entire Edoras heard their laughter.
"At least it wasn't for nothing: we got our prize!", Ealith gloated, "Come, let's unroll it and see if it is what I think it is". They dragged the tapestry towards the opposite wall and rolled it out. As inch after inch of faded colours was unveiled, the shieldmaiden couldn't help but squeaking in delight: "I knew it was! Isn't it magnificent?".
Amrothos crouched down to get a better look. "It's seen better days, but I'll be damned if it isn't. How did you know it was here?".
"It used to hang behind the throne many, many years ago".
"Let me guess: Grima had it removed?".
"No, it was taken down before he rose to power. I myself have never seen it in the Golden Hall. Lady Aldwyn once told me about it: she said it was commissioned by Morwen Steelsheen and that often, in the evening, Thengel King would sit on the throne and gather all the children around him to tell them the story of Rohan's forefathers. When Lothíriel Queen told me she wanted to adorn the Golden Hall, I knew I had to find it". She kneeled by one of the corners: "Look, see this? It's Eorl the Young mourning the death of his father Léod. And this is him hunting down the horse who killed him. He spared his life and demanded he served him as payment for the grief he had caused".
"Felaróf?".
"Yes". She moved closer and pointed at the figure of a man, standing proud in the middle of a greyish field, sword at the ready: "This is Helm Hammerhand as his men found him after his death, frozen and yet still ready to slay more foes. All this section over here tells his story, from coming into conflict with Freca, to killing him when the Dunlending traitor tried to coerce him into consenting to a marriage between his daughter and his son. Years later, Freca's son overrun Rohan and Helm and his younger son Háma endured a long siege at the Hornburg".
Amrothos crawled next to her. Whether he was more fascinated by the story itself or by the lady who told it, he could not say. "Did his son succeed him on the throne?".
"No. Prince Háma fell during the war whereas Prince Haleth – Helm's eldest son, died defending Edoras. His nephew, Fréaláf Hildeson, defeated the Dunlendings and became the first King of the second line".
"What about Aldburg? I know it used to be the seat of the kings of Rohan".
"Yes. Aldburg is Rohan's oldest settlement, funded by Eorl himself. Its story is not told here, unfortunately".
"When was the capital moved to Edoras?".
"Soon after. Eorl's son Brego built the Golden Hall of Meduseld and moved his house here".
"That's it? No gripping story and fearful villains attached?".
"Not that I know", she laughed, "but I can tell you Brego often met Dunlendings and Easterlings in battle. When it comes the history of Rohan you really shouldn't encourage me, Amrothos, or else by the time I'm done talking, we'll be both old and gray!".
"I see nothing wrong with it. Besides, you are already on the right track".
"To become old?".
"No, to become gray", he reached with his hand to brush a smeared cheek, "You are covered in dust…".
Entire days spent convincing himself that whatever absurd feeling he had for Ealith he could simply bury it down once she had left the city, came crashing down upon him. The rational part of his mind was sent into a reeling spiral and before it could recover and keep him from doing something he'd regret, he had already done it.
A wave of emotions washed over him, shock warring evenly against a raw, scorching desire and the idiotic conviction that something that felt so right, could not be wrong.
When after a moment of stunned immobility Ealith returned his kiss with a matching ardour, the notion of right and wrong simply ceased to exist.
His fingers lost themselves in the nape of her hair, his teeth grazing lightly over her tender, plum lip. Not in his wildest dreams he'd have ever expected her to respond so and yet there she was, her hands grasping his body, her tongue meeting his in a kiss that was nothing like a first. It wasn't shy, nor tentative. It was… everything.
And like all good things, it came to an all too sudden, abrupt end.
With a gasp, Ealith shoved him away and crawled backwards. She wasn't flushed. In fact, she was as pale as a ghost, wide eyes staring petrified at him. He knew he had to say something and Valar, he tried. "Ealith…", was all he managed to say before she leaped on her feet and run out, the sound of her steps soon dissolving into an anguished, lonely silence.
It was an overcast morning and Meduseld's stairs were slippery with the rain that had battered the city for hours. Lothíriel tiptoed inside the stables and only briefly greeted Greótblæst with an apple she had saved from her breakfast, before moving on. At the back of the building, inside a neatly kept box, she found who she was looking for: "Amrothos?".
He must have not heard her her coming in, for he winced and hastily grabbed a brush to pretend he was busy. "Good morning, sister".
Unnerved by his charade, she stepped in and placed herself in a corner, so not to be a hindrance to his show. "What is wrong, Amrothos?".
He scoffed. "Why would you think something's wrong?".
"Because you've been avoiding me and pretty much everyone else for the past three days. You neglect your duties, skip your lessons, disappear for hours on end".
"Nonsense, I was just lending a hand to Runhild and caring for my horse. You know as well as I do that he's not fully trained yet and…".
She tore the brush from his hand and tossed it away. "You keep going on like this any longer and you'll peel the skin off that poor horse of yours! I'm worried for you, Amrothos. The last time I saw you withdrawing into yourself in such way, I did not know what to do and so I did nothing, watched until you reached a breaking point and we both know what happened then". She paced back and forth, growing more and more agitated by the minute. "That awful discussion we had at the Hornburg, I'm not apologizing for what I said nor for hitting you – Bema, you had it coming. But I'm sorry I let it come to that, I'm sorry I did not manage to be there for you, I'm sorry I was always too busy to…". So taken she was with her frantic speech, she did not hear him moving. All of a sudden, he was standing right in front of her and it was her turn now to wince in surprise.
"It wasn't your fault, Lothíriel".
"I should have done more, Amrothos. And now I see you following the same pattern again and I want you know I'm here, that you're not alone. I'm so proud of all you've accomplished and to have you here in Rohan, it means the world to me".
He held her gently, cheek resting on the top of her head. "I shouldn't have caused you worry. Forgive me, Lothíriel. The reason why I've been out of sorts lately has nothing to do with the war so please, calm down".
"What is it then?".
"I can't tell you".
"Why?".
"Because you're the Queen and I don't want to put you in a difficult situation".
"More or less difficult than ruling a country and having to deal every day with a pack of rabid advisors?".
"Probably less", he conceded.
"Then tell me. You're never a burden, Amrothos. You're my brother and if there's anything I can do…".
"It's about a woman".
Lothíriel looked up at him. There was no anger in his eyes. Only confusion, dejection, resignation. And above all, sadness. "It's not Aldwyn, I suppose".
Amrothos shook his head. He stacked some hay, ensured the pile was stable before helping her sitting. She noticed he kept glancing at the door, so she signalled Théocanstan to leave them alone. "It's Ealith".
Of all the names, that was not one she had expected to hear. No wonder her brother feared putting her in a difficult situation: the beloved nephew of the only advisor they trusted, set to marry in less than a fortnight…
"During the past two months, we grew close. We both struggle with sleeping and so we took to meet by the riverbank at night. Sometimes we kept each other silent company, others we'd tell silly things about ourselves. Back at the Hornburg, after you confronted me, I left the hall and ended up at some training grounds. There were two men practicing and I deliberately provoked them. It seemed like a great way to blow off some steam but instead, it only made things worse and if it wasn't for Ealith, I'd have either taken a bloody beating or seriously harm someone – possibly both. After that day… I don't know, I just took to pour myself out to her, confessed her things I had never told anyone else. Before, I used to dread the night hours. Insomnia is one nasty beast: you are exhausted, depleted, and yet your mind refuses to let go, dragging you deeper into the abyss with each further day. Ealith's presence gave a sense to those sleepless hours and whether we laughed or cried together, I always returned to my room feeling a little lighter. I had no romantic intentions towards her, I swear. I labelled our relationship a friendship and it was at first. But no more. Not for me. It's an awful thing to say but every time I see Alling, every time I hear his voice, I feel the urge to throttle him. I told myself it was because he and Ealith are obviously ill-matched, but that's not it. He could be the perfect fiancé and I'd still hate his guts. I'm bloody jealous, that's what I am".
"Is that why you decided to go patrolling?".
"Yes. Ealith became more involved at court and with Alling constantly shadowing her, it was more than I could take. I needed to get out of here, needed time to think. I could not admit I was falling for someone who did not feel for me the same way I felt for her, so I convinced myself mine was an infatuation and nothing more. I returned to Edoras determined to endure what little time was left until Ealith's wedding and convinced that once she had departed for the Hornburg, all would be good. I planned on avoiding her as much as I could, but…".
"…but then someone asked you to rescue her from the cellars".
"Yes. Don't tell anyone, but the Queen can be quite overbearing".
She smiled, his little joke heartening her. "What happened?".
"One moment we were talking. The next I couldn't tear my eyes off her, couldn't stop thinking how perfect she was. And then, I kissed her". He rested his elbows on his knees, fingers raking through his hair in frustration: "I did most of the talking. Through all the nights we spent together, it was always me opening my heart out. She spoke some, but was always very reserved, keener on listening rather than sharing anything too intimate about herself. It convinced me she saw me as a friend and nothing more. Instead… I was lost the moment she kissed me back, Lothíriel. If it was for me, I'd have taken her - right there, right then! I don't know whether I should say fortunately or unfortunately, she came back to her senses before we took it too far. She was shocked, run away without saying a word. Haven't seen her since".
Lothíriel wrapped an arm around his shoulders and thought about what he had just told her.
Amrothos had collected his fair share of dalliances but had never been one to claim feelings of love where undue. And while she didn't know Ealith too well, she certainly didn't strike her as the fickle type. Quite the contrary: she was level-headed and judicious beyond her years.
Ealith wasn't one to throw away an impending wedding with her long-time sweetheart for a fling with a foreigner Prince. And Amrothos wasn't one to seek a woman who he knew was promised to another just to add another notch to his belt.
Then, there were the political implications. Amrothos was a Prince of Gondor. Ealith a noble lady, heiress to one of the most respected families of all Rohan and niece to someone who was in all but name the King's Chief Councillor. Her betrothed's family too, while not as influential as hers, was held in high regards.
Lothíriel turned her eyes on her brother and studied attentively his face. "What are you doing here, Amrothos?".
"What does it look like. I'm hiding".
As Queen, she knew what she should say. As sister, she loved her brother too much to risk him loosing something so precious: "Do you love her?".
Dear, sweet Amrothos, could do little to hide the colour on his cheeks. "I… I…", he mumbled.
"Do you or do you not?", she pressed him.
"I do", he admitted with a defeated sigh.
"Then go tell her before it's too late".
Under different circumstances, Lothíriel would have laughed at the look of horror painted all over his face.
"Did you not hear what I just said? She…".
"If you don't tell her, you'll regret it forever. Torment yourself thinking of the what ifs. Don't presume Ealith to know what you are thinking and feeling, Amrothos. And don't presume that you know what she is thinking and feeling either. Éomer and I played this game for months. We avoided each other, refused talking plainly. It brought us nothing but pain. Heed my advice and go to her".
"She'll reject me".
"Then be it. But at least you tried, at least you'll know. What do you have to lose? Male pride?".
He scoffed. "Never cared much about it".
"I know, you're far too smart for that nonsense".
"What if she tells me she returns my feelings and calls off the wedding. There would be a scandal and you'd be dragged into it. Alling's family would be up in arms. Haleth too, most likely".
"I ask that you speak to Ealith, not that you abduct her. Haleth loves her like a daughter. He'll accept her choice, whichever that might be. As per Alling's family, we'll just have to deal with it".
"You mean it?", he asked, a bead of sweat breaking out across his brow. It made her smile for she realized that for all their past disagreements, she and Amrothos were more alike than either of them had ever cared to admit.
"I do". She barely had the time to say the words, that he was gone already.
Amrothos fought desperately the urge to run. His sister was right and he was not willing to postpone any longer his confrontation with Ealith, whatever the outcome might be. But he also needed a moment to collect his thoughts and think of what he was going to tell her.
Halfway there he realized it was pointless: he was no good with speeches and even if he had an entire lifetime to prepare, he still wouldn't manage to put anything even remotely decent together. He picked up the pace and knocked at the house Ealith shared with her uncle. Nobody answered, so he tried again, fists pounding on the wood with increasing strength. An elderly woman who he recognized as the housekeeper finally opened the door, looking mildly annoyed by his manners. "Good morning, Prince Amrothos. Lord Haleth is not at home, he shall return next week. Would you like to leave a message for him?".
"Lady Ealith. I need to speak to her. Could you please tell her I'm here?".
The housekeeper sniggered, like he had just said something funny. "She's not at home either, she…".
"Do you know where she went? Not at the stables, for I was there myself. And also not Meduseld, for the Queen would have told me. At the market perhaps?".
"Ah, of course you wouldn't know. She left in such a hurry that she didn't inform the Queen either. I hope her Highness won't be offended by her forgetfulness. She's just young and in love", she laughed.
Amrothos had to muster all his courage to ask his next question. "Where did she go?".
"Lord Alling has tried for so long to convince her to anticipate the wedding. He said if they waited until October, the weather might worsen and ruin their outdoor ceremony. Three days ago, Lady Ealith capitulated: she came home saying she did not want to wait any longer and they left the same day for the Hornburg. Let me think", she said and stepped out to look at the sky, "ah, it's almost midday already. That means by now they must have married already!".
Author's notes: sorry-not-sorry for the cliff-hanger! I know at this point you might find Ealith's behaviour questionable, and it surely is. She is only human, she's young and going through a very difficult moment in her life. We don't really know much of her side of the story until now, but maybe that will change in the future…
Rho67: well, I mean, I generally don't like helpless idiots, so… :) But I understand what you mean: he's not a villain and I didn't want him to be. A well-meaning idiot is perhaps not as compelling as a ruthless villain with a hidden agenda, but it's still more than enough to bring a relationship to its knees. There were so many out of the ordinary events in this story, that I liked to have something very… ordinary! Thank you for your wishes and I hope things got better in your life!
Katia0203: thanks for the heads-up, hopefully the issue is solved by now! Alling isn't the brightest man, yet he perceived something was going on before anyone else. Which is why he became Ealith's shadow and proposed they anticipate the wedding. Unfortunately, he managed to convince her…
Catspector: it is - Éomer has definitely learned how to play the court game. It wasn't a smart move on Amrothos' side, but then again: it's not like he planned it. He was/is having a hard time mentally, and screwed things. He apologized, clearly showed remorse for his actions and with the help of family and close friends, he's trying to do better. I'm happy you liked the premise for Amrothos' story. He has realized Alling is not the right man for Ealith. He has realized he has feelings for her – though it took him a while to call them for what they are. But he had not expected her to reciprocate him in any way…