Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. I am only playing with the fandom for the enjoyment of myself as well as others.
Author's note: Take care that a spew warning might apply and be cautious when handling food and liquids while reading this.
Chapter 54
Even before she came to live in Rohan, Lothíriel had learned one thing about the Rohirrim. They were very attuned to their horses. Merely speaking with her father had allowed her to see this, and at first it had intrigued her. A whole people so devoted to their horses, a whole culture where they did not just see them as useful creatures, but as companions. She had delighted in the stories her father told her, and prominent in many of them was his new friend. Éomer, now King of Rohan. It had been strange to meet the young King, having first heard so much from her father, then from her cousin, Faramir, and his bride to be, Éowyn of Rohan. She had quickly come to realise that one must pay close attention to what Éowyn said, for she delighted in teasing and baiting her brother. Regardless if the man in question was present for the teasing or not.
Some of the things she had told had been simply too outrageous to be true, and yet, Lothíriel had found several such stories to be just that, true.
She had not been certain of Éomer at first, though she had found herself strangely drawn to him. His sense of justice and courage reminded her of her father. Perhaps that was why she felt at ease in his presence, though he seemed so brash and confident, she also saw the quiet and sullen demeanour of a man threatened by darkness.
At first she had only thought of him as someone she could see as a friend. Though he was so much younger than her father, it was clear the two had become fast and close friends, and she did find she cared for him.
That care and concern had been so close to love she had not at first realised, and she thought, neither had he for some time. When her father started planning the match between them she had at first been startled, then seen that it was indeed something she wanted. She did not just care for Éomer, King of Rohan as one might care for a friend of the family. She cared for him as one cared for a husband, or she would be glad to do. That Éomer clearly had come to view matters the same way had made her decidedly happy.
Life in Edoras was however vastly different from what she was used to. Though there were certainly tasks that as a queen, she was not expected to perform, such as carrying wood and water, there were indeed many tasks she was unfamiliar with.
It was frowned upon to find the queen take part in the physical labour of washing day, but she certainly needed to be aware of what items were supposed to be washed. She might be allowed to go to the kitchens and arrange for a light meal for her husband and herself, even cook a small dish from her home. Or, instruct in how it was supposed to be cooked, but she was not supposed to do this daily. She was however expected to keep careful note of how much flour they had in the storage room. How much honey there was and how much cheese. It was not an overly arduous task, and she was quickly learning the best method for how to do it. Éowyn had instructed her to trust the women to know their duties well, and only keep an overall view on the matters.
This was sound advice and she had found it worked very well. The amount of laundry to be washed never changed much from one sennight to another, so they knew well how much water and soap was needed.
She cared for the people of Rohan, they were simple in their ways without wasting time on politics. Rather they performed their tasks and lived their lives in such a way that brought them pleasure and contentment. The hardest part had been to understand them. It seemed strange to her at first how the King would be late for the evening meal because he was performing chores in the stable. Not just caring for his own horse, but others as well as there was work to do. Coming in with straw, horse hair and dirt on his clothes. Laughing as he and Éothain had been roughhousing on the way up to Meduseld. He seemed happy then, so she certainly did not mind. Not when his eyes shone and he was smiling as he greeted her.
Rather she wanted to understand what it was about the horses that brought her husband so much joy. She liked them well enough, she liked to ride and she liked the way the mare her father had given her nuzzled her for treats and affection. She Enjoyed it all, but she knew Éomer's relationship with his beloved stallion, Firefoot, ran much deeper than so. The two were like brothers, they had a bond between them that no man could break.
It was quickly becoming clear to her that Firefoot was a rather peculiar and special horse.
Coming from the back of the Golden Hall she had been startled when suddenly the grey stallion appeared in the doorway, neighing as he tossed his head, and then strode past the doorwardens and towards her.
"Firefoot!" with a gasp she ran forward to him, for he was still saddled and as Éomer had taken him out for a ride that morning it frightened her. The horse greeted her cheerfully, whickering as he moved into the hall as if he had every right to be there. Nuzzling her he scraped one hoof on the floor and Lothíriel turned her frightened face to the doorwarden. "Gamling, what might have happened?" she pleaded. "How can Firefoot be here and not Éomer? Has he not returned?"
"The guards at the gate reports he came by himself," the older man reported. "Though I would not worry, my Lady. If anything ill had befallen the King, his horse would not be so calm. He would have come in here tearing down the walls if aught stood in his way. Nay, whatever it is that has caused his delay, I should say he sent Firefoot on to let us know he wants us."
"Are you certain?" she asked worriedly as she stroked the grey stallion's neck.
"With Firefoot this calm, and the reins tied up to the saddle as they are, Aye, I am certain," the grizzled man smiled. "Something is afoot, of that there is little doubt. Though it is nothing so dire you need to fret. Shall I send for Éothain? He should be able to take some men and see what the matter is."
"Yes, do that," she decided. "And please, have my horse saddled also."
"My Lady?" he frowned, uncertain. "I am uncertain if the King would wish you to ride out without him."
"If you are so certain my husband is not in danger, then I do not see how I could be. And certainly he would trust Éothain to keep me safe if he suspected danger?" she fixed him with a firm look. "Further, we will be riding to meet my husband, so I would not call it without him, merely in anticipation of him..." It was ambiguous, and of that they were both well aware. Yet she had come to see that the Rohirrim respected determination.
"I shall see to it that your horse is saddled, and see to it that Éothain meets you at the stable," Gamling decided. Offering her something of a smile.
"I will be there in just a minute," it would take her just a little more to change into a dress more suitable for riding. One with a split skirt that had seemed strange to her at first, but it was rather practical. Wearing deerskin breeches underneath, and soft yet sturdy riding boots. It did not take her too long to change, and when she made her way to the stables Éothain was there, holding the reins of her mare. She knew the creature was considered much too docile and gentle for the Rohirrim, though she was glad Éothain said nothing about it. As Éomer's childhood friend, and one of his Captains now, he was already one she felt deep trust and affection for.
"I only took twenty men," he stated as he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the saddle without even showing the effort in the slightest. "I shan't think we need even as many, not with the way that grey beast is behaving," he nodded to the stallion who came over to nudge him, gently biting his arm as no apples were forthcoming. With a curse, though no anger in his voice, Éothain grabbed the stallion by the ear. "Cease that, you demon beast," he half growled. "Save it for your master when we find out what he has been up to."
"You truly feel no concern?" Lothíriel asked as she watched him swing himself into the saddle of his own magnificent mare. She did rather feel her own was dwarfed by the powerful horses, but she had been a gift from her father and she treasured her. "Firefoot did make his way into the hall. I thought that rather unsettling."
"Aye, if one does not know Firefoot as well as I do, you would," he nodded. "That beast considers himself to have the right to go as he pleases, and Éomer does very little to discourage him. It is not the first time he has been inside of the Golden Hall, and I would not think it to be the last," he barked a laugh. "Had ought befallen Éomer for which you truly needed fret, he would have torn into the Golden Hall as if all the hounds of hell were at his heels, and he would have torn it down if you did not act fast enough. Believe me, my Lady, if Firefoot has no greater worry than that I have no apples for him, there is no danger. I took twenty men because Éomer would not have sent him back without cause, and I don't know what that cause is."
"I see," she nudged her horse to fall in beside him as they rode through the city. The twenty men he had selected falling into pace with them one by one. Just outside the gate, all twenty were with them, and she noted it had not taken them long to gather. She was uncertain if such a thing could have been accomplished with such speed in Dol Amroth. Twenty of the men already on duty, mayhap, but not the twenty that Éothain had considered most suitable to the task.
"We shall see for ourselves soon enough, Firefoot shall lead us there," Éothain beamed cheerfully. Speaking to the horse in Rohirric, she understood only a few words of what he said, though she noted how Firefoot lifted his head and gave a loud whicker. Tossing his head, he took off at a canter, and as one the men around her did the same. Her own gentle mare hesitating for half a step before she followed, and she was glad that Éothain seemed to have anticipated this and held his own horse back until hers had found her gait.
It was not so very far, at least not by the standards of Rohan she mused. A little over an hour before they came to a stand of rocks. Most of Rohan seemed to be grassy plains, but this was an area filled with craggy rocks, low scraggly bushes struggling against the wind that threatened to uproot them.
Amongst the rocks, one at least as large as a house, another not more so than a dog, Firefoot stopped and Éothain looked around. On the ground, near the foot of the larger rock formation lay a green cloak. "Éomer!" his voice rang loud through the rocks, and Lothíriel once more found herself impressed by the booming voices of the Rohirrim.
"Down here," the answering voice was almost at their feet, and realising there was a hollow under the bush, and that was where her husband was, near sent the young Queen into a panic. However, as his voice did not seem to carry any pain or distress she sought to calm herself.
"Sweet Eru, Éomer, what are you doing down there?" Éothain barked a laugh that let her know the warrior certainly wasn't worried. Dismounting he pushed a bush aside to look into the hollow, and gave a low whistle.
"What is the matter?" Lothíriel dismounted with less grace, but increasing ease for her time spent in Rohan. Peering past the branches she could not help a smile. "Oh, she is adorable." The hollow was deep, and with rough rocky edges. A very steep slope jutted with rocks, and at the bottom her husband was with a young foal. Though she had never had much experience with horses in her previous home, she would wager the tiny horse was just about newborn. She had heard them speak of it being foaling season recently.
"I heard her cry out, but I can not get her up on my own," Éomer stated, rubbing the foal over the nose to keep the obviously frightened creature calm. "Which is why I sent Firefoot back."
"I expected it to be something less serious," Éothain beamed as he laid on his stomach to better judge the obstacle. "It will not be easy." There was not much room at the bottom, and too many sharp rocks for them to tie a rope around the foal and drag her up. She would cut herself on the rocks, and no doubt panic. Even lying on his stomach he could not quite reach down to his friends upraised hands. "It would help a great deal if you were taller…" he mused, stroking a hand over his short beard.
"Well, that shan't likely happen," Éomer glared at his friend who only laughed. "There isn't much room here, but if you are able to come down, we may lift her up high enough someone can get hold of her."
"I am smaller, could I?" Lothíriel asked. To her disappointment her husband shook his head.
"Nay, you would not be able to lift her high enough, and it is too dangerous."
"She is scared, and in some pain," Éothain pointed to the grazes on her legs. "If she kicks, you could be seriously hurt."
"So then could you," she frowned.
"We have more experience," Éomer mused. "We will be better able to hold her and keep her calm. Though if you can find something to clean her cuts with, it would be a great help indeed."
"Aye, that I can do," she could see the sense in their words, though she wished she had the skill to help. Certainly Éowyn would not have been turned down if she offered to help. Taking a canteen she looked for something to use to clean the cuts, and finding nothing, she tried not to blush as she moved behind a rock to remove the petticoat she wore under her dress. If she knew the Rohirrim half as well as she thought by now, they would appreciate the gesture and not care as much about propriety as long as the foal was tended to.
Coming back she saw Éothain slowly sliding down into the crevice, while two of the riders moved forward to take his place at the lip of the hollow. Though it did not take long it was nerve wracking to watch. First lifting the foal as high as they could, while the poor creature struggled from fright, Éomer and Éothain followed. Climbing back up the steep slope, one at a time, only gaining a foot or so for each time. Though this way they were able to raise the young foal high enough for the men outside to reach her. Stepping forward Lothíriel started cleaning her legs with the wet cloth in her hands while the two men slowly made their own may out of the hollow.
The way her husband smiled at her as he stood beside her told her that she had indeed done the right thing.
"Thank you," taking the now ruined petticoat from her he took it to continue cleaning the cuts. "She should be well enough now."
"Where might she have come from, I see no other horses," she frowned.
"Most likely she is from one of the herds nearby," Éothain answered her. "I remember the report saying they lost some of the mares in the storm. I should think she wandered off as she lost her mother."
"Aye, I do not think she has been weaned yet," Éomer nodded. "She would not have lasted much longer at any account." Satisfied the foal was not in any immediate danger he tossed the now ruined and bloodied remains of the skirt to his friend. "We shall take her back to Edoras, we can care for her there."
"She looks like she might grow to be a strong one," Éothain smiled. "I shall be glad to see her grow."
"A weak one would not have made it this far," Èomer smiled. Taking his cloak from where it lay on the ground he wrapped it around the foal that stood trembling lightly, eyeing them wearily though making no move to get away.
"She is beautiful, I have never seen a foal that small before," Lothíriel mused as her husband lifted her into the saddle. He seemed to do so with even more ease than Éothain, and she marvelled at how strong he was. Did he even notice her weight?
"We shall have to feed her for some time before we can wean her off milk," Éomer told her as he mounted Firefoot. "You shall get to see as much of her as you like." Leaving the reins secured to the saddle he made no move to take them, and Éothain lifted the foal up to him. He cradled the small foal very gently in his arms, the cloak around her ensuring that she could not leap down in panic. Firefoot turned his head to look, then seemed to shrug and waited for Éomer to nudge him gently. How he could control the horse so, with nothing but his legs amazed Lothíriel still.
Using both reins, and her legs she moved her own horse next to Firefoot who whickered and tossed his head. He did not seem displeased, but neither did he quite seem to know what to make of the mare from Dol Amroth.
Éothain rode on her other side, with the men he had brought behind them.
"What will you do with her?" Lothíriel found herself asking. "Will you take her back to the herd you think she came from?" She found herself hoping they wouldn't. The little foal was so adorable. Yet she knew in this matter she had to defer to her husband, for he would know what was best for the foal.
"I have not yet decided," Éomer mused. "If she was cast out before, she will not likely feel at home there. At worst, she might be cast out again. Even if she is not, she might become antisocial."
"If that happens, she might not take any rider later," Éothain explained. "We have seen it happen once or twice. Tis a shame when a fine horse get turned that way."
"Aye, it would, she is beautiful," Lothíriel stated firmly.
"We shall keep her in the royal stable for now, where we can care for her until she is at least weaned properly. It shall leave me plenty of time to decide what to do with her," Éomer decided and Lothíriel knew she had to be content with this.
It was clear to her the men had done this before, as efficient as they took care of matters. As soon as they returned to Edoras, they made for the stable, and rather than dismounting in the stable yard, Éomer rode Firefoot into the stable. Éothain dismounted, but followed and as Firefoot had entered his stall he followed to take the foal from Éomer's arms. Only then did her husband dismount his stallion. "She can stay here with Firefoot, so that she has company," he explained to his wife.
"Will not Firefoot be displeased?" she reached up a hand to rub the mighty war horse's nose.
"Nay, not truthfully," Éomer shook his head. "Firefoot is very protective of his herd, and he will want her to be well. Tis the best place for her at the moment."
Éothain in the meantime before unsaddling his horse had left them, and now he returned with a bottle that looked to be filled with milk. A rag had been secured over the opening, and now Éomer settled with the foal to place that rag in her mouth. It seemed to take her a moment, then she started suckling it. Drinking the milk through the rag while Éomer ran his hand over her side.
Éothain, having unsaddled his own horse moved to do the same for Firefoot who was surprisingly content to let him do so. Though then Lothíriel did not miss how the Rohir slipped the horse an apple before taking the saddle. Aye, it would seem her husband's friend knew his horse well. It made her smile that he would bribe him so.
"She is eating, that is all I needed to know," Éomer looked up at her. "Had she not, it would have been a lot harder. Then I do not know if we could have saved her fully. Now, as she does, there is no need for concern. Though we shall have to clean those abrasions properly."
"Can I be of aid, or would you wish for me to arrange for a meal for you?" she was well aware she was not much help. Yet given how he had been gone longer than he had planned she felt he might be hungry. She had quickly come to see that the Rohirrim, especially the Riders, were always hungry. She supposed it was as they often practised and worked hard to keep their skill.
Her question brought a smile to Éomer's face. "If you wish, I can instruct you in how to treat the wounds."
"I would be glad for it," she stated as she entered the stall with them. She had not wished to crowd in before. Now though, Éothain passed them jars of salve and Éomer showed her how to apply them and wrap her legs.
He did go into the hall with her to eat the evening meal, though she was not surprised after when he declared his intent to sleep in the stable. Knowing that the foal might be terrified in her new surroundings. If she came from one of the herds, she had never stayed inside before, and while he trusted Firefoot, there was only so much the stallion could do.
Before she retired herself, Lothíriel headed toward the stable, and smiled as she entered. In Firefoot's stall, with the foal, Éomer lay on a blanket. In the stall next to him, Éothain had bedded down the same with his own horse. In low voices the two men conversed, pausing as her entry was noticed by the horses.
"She seems better already," she mused, watching the little foal that lifted her head to peer at her.
"She's warm, and have a full belly," Éomer smiled back, reaching out a hand to stroke the foal where she lay. Firefoot lay on her other side, and though she knew the stallion had a reputation as fierce and ill tempered, she could also see how protective he was. Not so long ago, such a large horse would have made her feel decidedly uneasy, but she found it impossible to be frightened by Firefoot. He might be a war horse and trained to face down any enemy, and would easily kill them with his steel shod hooves. Had that been all she knew she might indeed have feared to go near him. Yet she had not only seen how playful he could be with Éomer, but how he allowed one of the orphaned children of a slain rider feed him handfulls of grass with Éomer's permission.
"I am glad," not wishing to enter the stall for fear of unsettling the young horse, she still laid her arms on the low wall. "She is beautiful."
"Aye, that she is," Éomer nodded.
"Is there anything you wish before I retire?" it would be strange to sleep alone in the bed, but she did not begrudge her husband this. She knew he would not be at ease if he did not see to it personally.
Still, now he stood, carefully so as not to startle the young foal, moving over to her. "Only your kiss, my Lady."
"That, I grant you gladly," in Dol Amroth, knowing Éothain was there she would not have dared to be so bold, in Rohan though, knowing Éothain for Éomer's friend, she did.
"If all goes well tonight, I should imagine I dare leave her here alone," Éomer told her, gently stroking her fingers over her cheek.
Smiling at the stallion, and the foal, while wishing the other Rohir a goodnight she left the stable.
Hearing Éomer settle down again, as the door to the stable closed Éothain spoke. "Have you any plans for her?"
"Aye, I might," Éomer nodded though his friend could not see him from the next stall. "It would depend on her disposition, but if it is suitable, once she can ride well enough, Lothíriel shall need a better horse."
"I think they should suit one another very well," Éothain allowed himself to smile. A smile that turned into a grin as already there were soft snores from the other stall.
He was not certain if it was his king, or the king's horse….
A Temporary End... Please review, the Cricket is hungry...
Additional Author's note: Some of these stories might not fit into the Tolkien timeline, I apologise for this, I have not yet been able to procure an English copy, and therefor there has been things I was unaware of while writing. Some I've changed, some I've left as I liked them.
Most of the Rohirric I use, is, as I believe Tolkien himself used, Old English. Though some is modern Swedish, as, frighteningly enough, these are quite often the same. In order to give the story a more pleasant flow for the reader, I have opted not to use a glossary at the end, rather, I try to make the meaning very clear in the story.