Chapter 4
Lothíriel felt dazed when Father ushered her into the airy, sunlit parlour. Her head was still full of her conversation with the King of Rohan and the deep, sincere companionship she had felt while talking to him, but she was also confounded by the meeting with Lord Aegdir. Both men, one tall and golden and the other dark and elegant, had gone, presumably to refresh themselves before joining the party again. Lord Aegdir had been escorted upstairs with great pomp and ceremony, but the Lord of Rohan had vanished with surprising speed and stealth for one of his standing and size.
She felt like courtesy demanded she should have paid more attention to them both before parting, but the situation had taken her by surprise and she had needed all her grace and focus to handle the moment as a noble lady should. All the while, Father had been talking to her and Lord Aegdir, and King Éomer had stood there silently right next to her, and she had thought of how strangely dismissive of his friend her father was being.
"Goodness gracious, what happened to your feet?" Father asked suddenly, startling her from her thoughts. She realised she was still barefooted and carrying her slippers in her hand, no longer concealed behind her back.
"I... I sat by the river with my feet in the water. It was muddy", she replied sheepishly. At least the mud had dried and she wasn't leaving any footprints on Éowyn's polished floors.
"And Éomer was with you?"
"He sat with his feet in the water, too", she said defensively, as if her father had caught her doing something much more nefarious than this. "It was very warm by the stream."
Her father considered her for a moment and then shook his head.
"You surprise me, daughter."
"Well, it's not as if I don't do it back home in summer."
"Still, I would argue that fountains in our gardens are a bit different from Anduin. You could have fallen in."
"You speak as if I can't swim. That's about the second thing anyone in our family learns as soon as we have started to walk", she pointed out, wondering why her father was so fixated on this matter.
"The river can be tricky. You would be surprised to learn how strong the currents are; even experienced swimmers have drowned in Anduin because they were not cautious", he told her and took a seat by the window.
"I promise to be careful if I go back to the river", she told him dutifully, hoping it was enough to console him. He could be so fussy, as if he himself hadn't left her in charge of Dol Amroth. Sometimes, she thought that to him she would always be two different people – his little infant daughter and the young woman with skills and abilities that could be harnessed for the good of their House and people. Apparently, these two existed entirely without conflict inside his head. In times of need, he had no trouble addressing the latter, but right now, he was obviously seeing only the former.
"Very well. Ithilien is a fair land, after all – it would be a pity if you didn't get to enjoy it properly", he conceded, now smiling more easily and warmly. He patted the seat next to himself and she made her way to him, settling down next to him.
"Tell me, daughter", said Father, "what did you make of young Lord Aegdir?"
This was the first she had met the young lord, but his family and background were known to her. Keeping track of all the noble families and how they were related to one another could be tricky, but it was also something any well-bred lady had to learn if they meant to be able to navigate the society. Lord Aegdir's father was Lord Forlong of Lossarnarch, who had fought very bravely on the Pelennor fields, and died defending the city. His heir had fallen as well, but his younger son Aegdir, who had stayed behind as a safeguard, was left alive to carry on the line. The new master of Lossarnarch was in fact distantly related to her own family, for his mother had been a kinswoman of Lady Morwen. It was said that Lord Aegdir took after his mother's kin and was often mistakenly taken for a lord of the White City or perhaps one of nobles of Belfalas. Indeed, she could recognise many things about him that reminded her of her own kinsmen.
But she knew her father was not asking her the family history of Lord Aegdir and his kin.
"He's a fine young man", she said simply; it was all she could say based on such a brief meeting.
Her father regarded silently for a moment. Then he reached for her hand and clasped it gently.
"I will speak plainly, daughter. I don't know if you are aware, but Lord Forlong was a friend of mine. He was a good, reliable man and he is sorely missed. Before the battle where he lost his life, Forlong asked me to watch over his sons and help them in any way I could, if the fighting turned out badly. Unfortunately one of those sons fell by his side, but one still remains. Honouring Forlong's wishes, I've visited young Aegdir at times when I have been attending to the King's business in the White City, offering such help as he needed to adjust to his new role and the duty that comes with it. During my last visit, he asked about you, my dear. I will admit he has not joined us today by accident, but because I asked Faramir to invite him", he explained slowly, studying her in that close way of his that always made her feel like he knew exactly what was in her mind.
Her mouth had gone very dry. She could already see where this was going.
"What are you saying, Father?" she asked him anyway.
"I promised you that I would not pressure you into a union that you did not desire. I am not going back on my word. But it would mean a great deal to me if you spent some time with this young man and tried to get to know him – see if you two get along or not. If you do find him to your liking, then I would be more than happy to give you two my blessing", he said, gentle and careful, as if he was a little worried about how she would react.
Lothíriel did not say anything at first. She had known this moment would come sooner or later, even if her father had reassured her that she would be free to choose after her own heart. She had never assumed he wouldn't make suggestions along the way.
However, something made her uneasy. It wasn't really Lord Aegdir himself – he seemed like a fine young man, and being Forlong's son and having her father's approval, he could not be a bad sort. She had met him only shortly, but even then, she was certain he would not sit down with her by the river, or talk plainly about himself, or sincerely listen to and appreciate what she said and still make her feel safe and comfortable.
What it boiled down was this: she had met Lord Aegdir in the worst possible moment.
Besides that, she now understood why Father had been so oddly dismissive of King Éomer. She knew he regarded the young sovereign as family, something like a long lost son. He had paid as much attention to the man as he in that situation would have paid to Elphir or Erchirion or Amrothos and most likely he expected her to see the King in that same light. In that moment, when he was introducing his daughter to a lord he hoped she would one day marry, everyone else was simply a part of the furniture.
It was funny in a way: upon sailing here, she had been wondering if Father had come up with ideas about her and the King of Rohan. The notion had even worried her a little bit. However, all that time, Father had been thinking of a completely different man. Now, having met the two, she felt like it would actually be a relief if Father had been planning something concerning King Éomer. Amrothos had said the thought must have crossed their sire's mind, but why he hadn't acted upon it, she couldn't say – unless he had nursed hopes about her and Lord Aegdir long before the young man had first asked him about her.
"Talk to me, daughter. What do you think?" he asked her, interrupting her line of thought.
"Tell me honestly, Father. Do you only wish me to take a liking to him because of your late friend, Lord Forlong?" she asked him.
He smiled wryly.
"You see right through me. I won't deny that I would like to see this union for his sake. Even so, no friendship upon this earth is more important than my only daughter. It's for your own sake, too. I wish you every happiness and comfort in this world, but also a place where you can shine. You've shown your capability in ruling Dol Amorth in my stead, and it would be a pity if you were forced to retreat back into obscurity. The Lord and Lady of Lossarnarch are among the foremost nobles of this land, my dear. As Lord Aegdir's wife, you would be able to use what you have learned and take part in the great work of rebuilding this world. I think there is much that you could teach him as well", said Father, his eyes shining with pride. Upon hearing this, she couldn't help but relent a little bit. No matter how unexpected this all was, her father did have her best interests at heart. Furthermore, though he hadn't said so out loud, she guessed he was also thinking of Faramir and Éowyn; their home was not very far from the seat of the Lord of Lossarnarch. She would be close to family even in her new life.
And maybe, if Lord Aegdir had arrived yesterday, her feelings would be different and more appreciative. However, she knew now that when she closed her eyes, all she would see were a smiling, bearded face and shining dark eyes.
However, she could not let down her father.
"I make no promises, but I will spend some time with this man while we are here in Ithilien", she said at length.
Her father looked pleased and he squeezed her hand.
"That is all I ask, dear child. Give Aegdir a chance. He's a good lad, although he has much to learn. The loss of his father and brother have not been easy on him and in a very short time, he has had to fill in both their shoes after a lifetime of thinking it was not to be his part. But I do think he's a promising young man, and he could be truly a fine one with the right guidance", he said, warm and gentle.
"Father, how long have you been thinking of this?" she asked, directing a sharp stare at him. It almost looked like he recoiled a bit under her gaze.
"I had talks with Forlong from time to time before the war", he confessed slowly, "He offered the hand of his elder son, who has now gone with him to the mansions of the dead, bless their souls. I did like the idea of joining our houses in marriage, as it would be a great advantage for us both. But I had two reasons not to mention it to you, as it was. Things were different before the war, and while you were so young, I hesitated to make such alliances as the shadow of Mordor grew longer and darker. Lossarnarch is much closer to the Dark Land than Dol Amroth. The other reason is that I felt like Forlong's older son might be too old for you. Aegdir is younger and closer to you in his age, but your potential would be wasted if you were married to anything less than the heir or the lord himself."
Forlong's eldest son had been around Erchirion's age – and so was King Éomer. She nearly frowned at the thought, but was able to mask her reaction. If Father thought Aegdir's late brother was too old for her, then he probably had the same idea about Rohan's king.
But either way, it was clear that for quite some time, Father had hoped to see her married in the chief family of Lossarnarch. That was, perhaps, why King Éomer had not come up as a candidate.
"I wish you had spoken to me about this sooner", she said, and now she could not hide her frown from him.
"Please do not be angry with me. My silence was not badly intended. I merely thought you were not ready to think of marriage, and your aunt Ivriniel insisted to let you enjoy a few more years of light and joy in Dol Amroth. Our kin is long-lived – we have plenty of time for family, and you are young still. And I had other fears, too. For a long time, we knew that the war was coming, and it would be in our lifetime. That was plenty to worry about and weddings are merrier when they are not shadowed by dark omens", he answered gravely. Memories of days past, of constant fear and concern, flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, she understood how hard pressed he must have been in those days. As the chief lord of the land, aside from the Steward and his sons, her father had shared in the burden of responsibility. Yet to her, he had never shown any of his own struggles. Indeed, she had lived in light and joy while her dear, dear father held out the dark. For that, she could never be angry with him.
"But now everything has changed", she said softly, turning down her gaze and considering her hands, folded in her lap. "I will do as you ask and try to get to know him. But Father, in case I do not wish to take him to my husband, would you be very disappointed with me?"
"Never with you, dearest child", he reassured her. "Aegdir knows that the choice is up to you. I made it very clear to him. Of course, I do hope you two may like one another, and it would be a sad thing if it's not to be. But I tend to think that when one door closes, another opens somewhere."
It consoled her a little bit. She didn't want to disappoint him, no matter what he said. For he had done so much to keep her safe and happy even in the darkest of times, and she felt like she owed him so much. And not just to him, but the very people of Dol Amroth.
Not long after that they parted, and Lothíriel made her way back to her rooms; she still needed to wash her feet. But her mind was busy with what had just occurred and the sense of uneasiness it had caused.
Only yesterday, her sentiment towards the young Lord of Lossarnarch would have been vastly different. She would have found it easy to do as her father asked. Funny, how one conversation could change so much! But it also caused some very difficult sensations in her, especially the part about duty, and whether one could live up to it even if everything in her screamed against it. Was marrying Lord Aegdir her duty, then? At least, Father made a good argument for it. An alliance with such a powerful House would indeed be in the interests of her family.
Lothíriel felt like something unpleasant twisted in her stomach. Until now, the path before her feet had always been clear and easy to walk. She had known what her duty was and how to fulfil it. But at this moment, she wasn't so sure. She thought about King Éomer, and how he had pushed through his duty – usually difficult and painful to a degree she could hardly comprehend – with blood and sweat on his brow, and Éowyn, who had stood so long unbent until she snapped, and attempted to go down in a blaze of glory. What was she, the pampered daughter of a mighty lord, compared to them? She had no right to be dissatisfied or complain.
Oh, Elbereth! Almost she felt like it would be easier if she hadn't met the young king, or talked to him in such a way. And yet the memory already was like a bright jewel in her heart, a treasure she would always keep close and hold tight. Maybe, just maybe, it was like that for him, too... maybe he would put himself forward just like Lord Aegdir had. Even Father couldn't argue that an alliance to a royal house was an even better prospect.
However, she would do well not to read too much into it. Perhaps King Éomer just was like that with everybody he made friends with. She could be just imagining things, and it was entirely possible if not likely that the King of Rohan had no intentions towards her, except friendship. He was friends with her brothers and perhaps he merely saw her as an extension of that same thing. And she – she would be foolish to place all her hopes on him, no matter how charming and sincere and fascinating he was. That was the surest way of having her heart broken. As long as he did not present himself as an interested party, she had little choice.
And yet... there was the way those proud and lonely and discerning eyes had watched her these past couple of days... and if that conversation by the river had meant as much to him as it did to her, then her father and Lord Aegdir may just be in for quite the surprise.
Closing the door of his chamber behind himself, Éomer didn't know what his foremost emotion was. Defiance, doubt, confusion, even some anger – it was an uneasy mixture and he didn't like it. He couldn't even say why he cared about it so much, but he did. Maybe it was because now he wasn't sure if that conversation by the river really was as significant as it had felt like to him.
Rationally thinking, he knew that the sight of that annoyingly handsome, sleek lordling shouldn't bother him this much. So what if Imrahil seemed enthusiastic about the boy, or that he slobbered all over Lady Lothíriel's hand? It shouldn't be any of his business. And yet Éomer had felt very much challenged by the encounter, and even now, if he closed his eyes, the scene played again and again in his head.
He reminded himself he didn't necessarily know what it was about – maybe the young man was a relation of Imrahil's and that's why the Prince was glad to see him. Then again, if the lordling were kin, then surely he would already have met her? He shook his head: if he tried to insist that the new arrival was anything but a potential bridegroom for Lady Lothíriel, he would be lying to himself. In momentary concern, he even wondered if they were already betrothed. Surely that would have come up somehow, though? Not to mention, Aragorn seemed to think the lady was quite available. The damned man would know – he always did.
Based on the short meeting, he couldn't say whether it was something Imrahil had planned for long or not. Of course a great lord like him would sooner or later seek a union for his only daughter. Willing candidates could not be lacking – Imrahil only had to pick the one who brought most advantage to the table. But what about the lady? Had she known about the arrangement? A shudder went down his spine. If she had known, and yet let him talk to her like that by the river... no, that could not be true. All he could read in her was sincerity and candour, and he was not often wrong about people. He needed to trust her.
Éomer walked to the washing basin, filled it and scrubbed his face – as if this anxiety was something he could leave in the water. Raising his eyes, he met his reflection in the looking glass, which hung above the basin. His face was flushed and there was a strange brightness in his eyes, the kind that even took him aback. And seeing that look, he was faced with certain alarming realisations.
Oh, Béma. I've lost my mind over my friend's daughter and her possible betrothal. And the reason it makes me so mad is because her betrothal is not up to me.
Shit!
It took a cold bath and a sip of strong liquor to collect himself, but by the time Éomer made his way downstairs, he felt like he could indeed keep his temper in check. He knew he would have to tread carefully from here on: this gathering was Éowyn and Faramir's moment in the sun and he wasn't going to ruin it by acting like some hapless lout. Not to mention, he would do himself no favours in Imrahil's eyes by such behaviour. As for her – well, she may forgive him, because that was the way she treated people, but she deserved much better.
Some of the party were already standing in the great entrance hall. Imrahil was there with his daughter, and that damned Lord Aegdir was conversing quietly with them. Éomer studied them closely from his vantage point in the stairs before descending fully into view. Imrahil nodded at him in greeting, but in Lady Lothíriel's face he read something nervous and apologetic. He hoped it meant she had been as oblivious to Lord Aegdir's arrival as he – that she understood their conversation and what it meant like he did.
So he flashed a smile at her to let her know he was not disgruntled, at least not with her. The corners of her lovely mouth rose a tiny bit in what barely was a smile, but he knew she was trying to be discreet. The much more noticeable change in her was how tension vanished from her posture.
Éomer turned his gaze away, so that he wouldn't be caught staring. But to himself he thought of how extraordinary it was that this understanding had passed between them, although they had not spoken a single word to one another. Only with Éowyn had he come close to anything like it, but his sister he had known all his life, and this young lady of the South he had met only a couple of days ago. He was not left to marvel at this for long, as Erchirion and Amrothos joined him then. The two seemed to be fighting about something, like they so often did when left alone. He was glad for the distraction, though; he was not quite safe while the lady was in the same room as him.
When all were gathered, Éowyn and Faramir led them to lunch, which was served in the sunlit garden. A long table was set there under a canopy, with the usual hearty spread that the Lord and Lady of Emyn Arnen were wont to present to their guests. Imrahil, Lady Lothíriel and Lord Aegdir moved as a company of three, she with her hand on the young man's arm. Éomer gritted his teeth and reminded himself that she was obliged to be gracious to the boy – her father probably expected it of her and Lady Lothíriel was too well-mannered to refuse to be escorted.
The party took their seats at the table – his own spot was grievously far from hers, while the lordling was sitting right next to her.
But Aragorn was, again, on his right side. Knowing he couldn't fool his fellow king even if he tried, Éomer leaned slightly closer and whispered from between his teeth, "Did you know about the boy?"
"The answer is no – to both of your questions", Aragorn uttered back. Of course he knew Éomer wasn't just asking if his friend had known that the Lord of Lossarnarch would join them. The Rohir tried to decide whether there was anything suspicious or even sinister about the fact that Imrahil hadn't even told his liege-lord, but then he realised he was probably overthinking it.
Aragorn seemed to notice it, too.
"Don't worry. You have the advantage, my friend", he said quietly – but apparently not quiet enough, or maybe Éowyn had just noticed something on her brother's face, because she gave them both a narrow look. He feigned ignorance. It was quite enough that Aragorn knew exactly what was going on – he didn't need his sister getting wind of it as well. She might be a little too eager to see him settled down and get creative with how to set him up with the Amrothian lady. Éowyn trying her hand in matchmaking was too formidable an idea; he'd rather face a company of orcs all by himself.
During lunch, it didn't feel like he had the advantage, like his friend had said. He was too far away from Lady Lothíriel's company to take part in the conversation. Meanwhile, Lord Aegdir was clearly bent on getting into the good graces of both Imrahil and his daughter. He was talking in a lively way and Imrahil was laughing at something he had said; even Lady Lothíriel chuckled politely. It was utterly annoying.
As the meal drew to a close, he was thinking of how he might somehow interrupt the young lord's continual outpour of good cheer and courting, but once again Lord Aegdir was a few steps ahead. For as soon as the party started to rise, and Éomer was about to open his mouth, Aegdir was already inviting Lady Lothíriel to join him for a refreshing walk in the garden. Éomer fumed silently.
But Aragorn was up to the situation and touched his shoulder.
"My friend, do you mind joining me? There were some things I hoped to talk about with you", he said mildly.
"Of course", Éomer muttered in response and followed his fellow king back inside while hoping that his expression was not too stormy.
Once they were inside, he cast a sharp look at his friend.
"Do you actually have something to talk about, or did you just pull me out to check my temper?" he asked.
Aragorn smiled slightly.
"Both, actually. I do wish to talk with you. We haven't really had a chance to properly catch up yet", he replied smoothly. "But even so, as irritating as he may seem to you, young Lord Aegdir is not the worst lad and he shouldn't suffer serious injury just because you're jealous."
Now the younger of the two kings glared at the older.
"I wasn't going to injure him and – and, well, if I'm jealous, it's none of your business", he snapped. He hated to think that he was, because he had always regarded jealousy as a very base and shameful feeling. It was something quite below his dignity, because it wasn't his job to decide whose society anyone preferred to his.
"Of course it's not. But in the case you happened to be, I don't think you need to. The lady hides it well but she is not interested in him. And before you ask again, the answer is still no: I was not aware Imrahil was planning anything for his daughter", Aragorn said.
"How would you know what and who interests her? Have you even met her before?" Éomer asked, his voice prickly, although he was satisfied to know his friend had been as unaware of Imrahil's intentions as himself. It also reassured him he wasn't reading too much into it or imagining things.
"No, but I've lived a long time, my friend, and known many people. If in that time I hadn't learnt something about the nature of Mankind, I should be ashamed", said the King of Arnor and Gondor. Then he smiled in a most infuriating way, "And I told you she hasn't stopped staring at you since you arrived. That hasn't changed with Lord Aegdir's presence."
"On the contrary, I think she's making every effort not to look at me."
"Oh, you're not that naive, my friend. Sometimes not looking is just as telling. And believe me, she looks at you plenty, she's just much more discreet than you are", said Aragorn, smiling like all this amused him a great deal. He slapped his friend's shoulder. "But come now! As entertaining as your love life is, we do have other things to talk about. Faramir said we could use his study."
Grumbling and fuming, Éomer followed his friend through the corridors of the manor house.
Faramir's study was much as the rest of the house, blending Gondorian and Rohirric influences in a way that was rather pleasing even to Éomer. The space was neat as could be expected from Faramir; not one object was out of place. The great windows at the back wall looked over the courtyard, so that the Lord of Emyn Arnen could observe new arrivals even as they entered the premises. There was a large desk that reminded Éomer much of his own back in Meduseld, although this one was made of light wood and decorated with carvings of all manner of plant-life (and looked less like one of Saruman's fiery explosions had gone off on its surface). There were a couple of tall bookshelves, but they were not even half filled, for Faramir was still in the process of building his own kingdom here. There were not many decorations in the study except for a dark blue tapestry with the White Tree; the Steward's homage to the great kingdom he had spent his life serving.
There was an empty fireplace – most likely it wouldn't be until late autumn before it was lit again – and before it, two comfortable chairs and a small table, where Faramir had obligingly left two glasses and a decanter of what proved to be a very good white wine.
Once they were seated and Aragorn had poured them drinks, Éomer was able to relax a bit and shift his thoughts into the paths of politics and diplomacy, which at least now seemed quite untroubled and even pleasant. There was much to talk about, even though they were in regular correspondence. It was easier and faster to speak face to face, ideas sprung to life from half a word, and altogether it felt like things moved forward much better. But Aragorn also shared some worrisome intelligence from the south-eastern border; it seemed peace was not quite so strong that it could be trusted to last. Even so, Éomer was not terribly concerned. The enemies of Rohan and Gondor were prone to quarrel and without Sauron's whip to drive them, they were not likely to co-operate well enough to be seen as a serious threat. He was more worried with issues closer to home: orc raiders still harassed the herders and the villages that existed nearest to borderlands. It seemed many survivors from Isengard and even Mordor had fled to the mountains and occasionally came down to attack Men's homes and villages, like in times past. Now it was more chaotic and less orderly – the threat was not the same as before and during the war, but attacks still came too often to his liking and each of them poked at wounds that were not completely healed.
Other, more pleasant topics were also discussed. When Éomer asked about Arwen and the baby, Aragorn's eyes began to shine and happily he spoke of their excitement and joy. One could only imagine what this meant after decades of wandering the lands of Middle-earth, with no family or home to speak of or to return to, and few of his kin left alive. Now, hearing him gush about his wife and unborn child, Éomer felt untold warmth and happiness for his friend.
So passed over an hour, and more time might have gone by hadn't a servant arrived to ask if the King Elessar was available – there were some dispatches from Minas Tirith and the Queen wanted to speak with him. The two kings agreed they still had plenty of time to talk business, and so they made their way outside, still lightly conversing about family news, which were much sweeter than politics. But he fell quiet when he saw that they were expected.
Lady Lothíriel stood there, anxiously staring at the door of Faramir's study, and growing more nervous still when he and Aragorn emerged.
"My lords", she said, still keeping her voice even despite her obvious uncertainty, "I wondered if I could exchange a few words with my lord of Rohan. If it's not too inconvenient, that is."
Her tone and the choice of words were so different compared to her openness by the river, it was almost absurd.
"It's quite all right, my lady. I shall leave you to it", said Aragorn, eyes twinkling, although his expression was a tranquil, impassive mask. No doubt he was going to take great enjoyment in telling Éomer I told you so.
Aragorn took his leave of them swiftly, vanishing behind a corner with almost preternatural stealth and speed. A silence fell between the King and the maiden, and both stood for a moment, feeling awkward and trying to decide what to say. Then after an uneasy quiet, they both spoke at the same time.
"I was hoping -"
"Do you think -"
Once again they fell silent, deep colour spread on her cheeks, and he felt supremely graceless. But this time he didn't wait for long.
"Forgive me. How can I be of service, my lady?" he asked, as gentle as he possibly could; seeking him out like this must feel very awkward and difficult for her, and he must try to help her as he was able.
She hesitated for a bit, her eyes fixed somewhere below his throat, and she was fidgeting her hands before her. Her fingers moved restlessly over and over.
"I'm sorry to bother you like this, my lord. It's probably silly, but I... I just wanted to tell you that I didn't know about Lord Aegdir – I mean, I knew that he exists, but not that Father had invited him to join us, and I wasn't being dishonest when we last talked, it's just Father wants me to be friendly with him and I can't well say no, and I hope you're not angry with me -" she prattled on, and all the while, her hands kept up the anxious movement.
He felt like his heart melted at the sound of her awkward babbling. Éomer took a few steps and gently covered her restless fingers with his hand, which finally made her fall quiet.
"It's all right, my lady. I know your honour is beyond reproach, but I'm glad you told me anyway", he reassured her, and she relaxed at once. Nervous tension left her body and she seemed to stand a bit taller. She even raised her eyes to meet his own, and her shy smile made him feel weak in the knees.
"I'm relieved to hear it, Sire. I was afraid that you took it badly... I wanted to speak to you sooner, but there was not a good opportunity for it", she explained softly.
"I thought as much, my lady, and I know that you must respect your father's wishes. Do not be troubled on my account", he said. How was it that he felt so relieved to hear this? He had more or less already guessed everything she had told him, but there was a special significance in hearing it from her own lips – and that she felt like she needed to tell him personally.
Her smile grew more confident.
"Thank you for your words, my lord. I know it is very sudden, and I've only just met you, but your good opinion means a great deal to me. To abuse it would be a terrible thing indeed."
His chest felt tight, and it was only now that he realised his hand was still clasping hers inside his own. Abruptly he let go of it, though he had liked the feeling of her soft, delicate fingers.
"My lady, I do not think you could do anything to lose it."
And the second thing he realised now was that he was in grave danger of falling in love with this young woman.
Lothíriel felt more than a little unsteady when she pushed the door of her chamber close behind herself. Only now did she feel like she could breathe freely again but even so, her head was still buzzing; it was full of everything that was the King of Rohan. The touch of his hand still burned against her fingers as if he had somehow branded her flesh. It wasn't even dinnertime yet and already this day had seen an abundance of some rather significant events.
Her mind went over their conversation again, and then meeting Lord Aegdir in the entrance hall... she couldn't well refuse her father, and so she joined him and the young lord as they conversed right before lunch. She had felt nervous, though, and often her eyes searched the stairs that lead to the guest wing. What did King Éomer think? How could she discreetly let him know that she hadn't expected Lord Aegdir to join them, or what her father hoped for the two of them? Did he even want to know?
Then the tall, golden-haired man had descended the stairs, his eyes searching for hers. She met his gaze, dreading and hoping at the same time. A moment passed and he smiled – a brief, secret smile by which she knew he wasn't angry. It helped her to calm down enough to show the young lord of Lossarnarch as much courtesy as her father's request demanded.
Thankfully, neither of them had noticed anything odd about her. But even as she participated in the conversation to the best of her ability, she remained aware of the King of Rohan, standing like a beacon at the other side of the hall with her brothers.
Then lunch was announced and the company made their way into the garden, where the meal was laid under a great canopy. Lord Aegdir chose a spot at the other end of the table, offering a chair to her. She sat down and quietly noted that the horse-lord was not close to her little party. He was almost at the other end of the table, which prevented easy conversation.
It was not the easiest meal. On the one hand, she was required to pay attention to the new arrival and speak with him, try to enjoy his company and be friendly. At the same time, she was sharply aware of another person sitting at the table, and feeling frustrated that she could not be in his society. She needed every bit of her concentration to hold her thoughts together, hide her true feelings, and show the young lord her best front.
Lord Aegdir was putting forth what seemed to be a considerable amount of charm, and it was working at least on her father, who smiled and laughed often. But Lothíriel was not as deeply impacted. She knew it was because she had just met two very different men and observed their considerable gifts of charm. In one case, it was rough around the edges and mostly unconscious, but that was precisely what made it so easy and irresistible, at least to her. It felt natural and sincere. In comparison, the other seemed more intentional and as such felt calculated and less earnest.
Had she met these two men separately and at different times, her impressions might have been very different. At the very least, it would have been easier for her to honour and follow through with her father's wishes.
When the company had finished and they were standing up, Lothíriel saw from the corner of her eye that the King of Rohan was intending to speak, was already opening his mouth and looking in her direction. But Lord Aegdir was faster: gracefully he inquired if she would join him for a walk in the garden. More sensing than seeing her father's pleased smile, she complied, even though her heart felt heavy as stone. She dared only a briefest of glances from the corner of her eye, and saw the stormy look on the King's face. She shuddered, thinking of how terrible it would be to receive his anger.
Her mood was troubled when she put her hand on Lord Aegdir's arm and allowed him to lead the way. It took some effort to be able to put those feelings in the background and play the part of a young lady being courted. But apparently it was enough, for Aegdir didn't seem to notice anything odd.
So they walked in Éowyn's very unfinished garden, and Lord Aegdir conjured a light conversation. He asked about Dol Amroth, and spoke of his own home in Lossarnarch, even mentioning that he had met the Dowager Queen Morwen a couple of times. She was ancient and lived very quietly, rarely accepting any guests. For her part, Lothíriel had never met the old woman, although her father had some years before the war.
It was not the worst talk, as far as conversations went. Lord Aegdir, even though he had been the younger son of Forlong, had enjoyed the finest education one could dream of; he was widely read, fond of poetry, fluent not only in Sindarin and Westron but also two Haradrim tongues, and could read Quenya passably. He danced and hunted and had indeed won some renown as the leading sportsman of Lossarnarch. Lord Aegdir had not been raised as the heir, but he had joined some of his brother's lessons, and in addition received extensive schooling in various arts – his father had seemed to think he would need it to occupy himself in adulthood. He was indeed a charming, sophisticated young man, with winning smiles and impeccable manners. When they reached a muddy spot in the garden, he gracefully helped her to cross it without getting her feet dirty.
She could find nothing wrong with him, except for her own misgivings, and those were hardly his fault. It made her uneasy. If he had somehow revealed unpleasant qualities about himself, been a brute towards her, then she would not feel bad and conflicted – she could happily tell her father she wasn't going to accept this young man's hand. Now she just felt like a spoiled child refusing a new toy just because it wasn't the one she wanted.
But there was also King Éomer, and her renewed dread that she had offended him by allowing Lord Aegdir to monopolise her time and company. He may very well feel like she was ignoring him, which would indeed be strange and even hurtful after the deep intimacy and honesty of their conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings; she sensed that they were deep and profound, much more so than he generally let people realise. What he had told her, what he had revealed, was not easily given even to people he loved and cared about. To expose oneself in that way and then be discarded would be a bitter pill to swallow for anyone.
This dread had grown horribly strong by the time she and the young lord headed back towards the manor house. Lord Aegdir asked her to join him in the parlour for some light reading, which she accepted – but she also excused herself for a moment, telling him she needed something from her chambers. It did not feel good to lie to him, but she was very nervous about King Éomer and the possibility that she had offended him. She needed to see the man and explain herself sooner rather than later.
She had no idea of where to look for him though, and this might have become a difficult obstacle. However, she met Éowyn in the stairs and the White Lady told her that he was in conference with King Elessar in Faramir's study. Éowyn didn't ask why Lothíriel was looking for her brother, but she did raise an eyebrow, and Lothíriel knew this little encounter would not be forgotten. But at the moment, she had other things troubling her.
So she made her way to where she knew her cousin's study to be. Only, having reached the door, she saw her next problem: she had no idea of how long the two kings intended to be closeted in the study. It might take hours for them to come out again, and here she was standing like some kind of an idiot. Yet when she returned to the company of Lord Aegdir, there was no telling when she would next be able to try and catch King Éomer alone. The damage could already be done by that point.
It was as if some Power was aware of her predicament and extended their hand in aid, for she had stood there less than five minutes when the door opened, and the two sovereign lords of the western lands emerged, conversing quietly between themselves. The difference between them was a fairly interesting thing to behold, especially now that they were walking close together. They were equally tall, but King Elessar was more slender and sinewy, stepping lightly as a Ranger would, whereas King Éomer carried his impressive bulk with a strong and confident stride. The King of Gondor and Arnor wore black and silver, subtle and dignified, but the King of Rohan cut a bold and striking figure with the green and gold of his tunic. It was not easy to imagine two men more different, and yet they were smiling and laughing like the best of friends. This was not a pair you wanted to meet on the battlefield; indeed, the tale of their meeting in the middle of the carnage of Pelennor fields was famous.
King Elessar was benign and considerate of her request to speak to the Rohirric king alone; lesser men might have dismissed her immediately. But he just gave her a strange little smile and left them quickly. She was alone with the Lord of Rohirrim, and she was already resigned to him being angry and shouting at her.
Lothíriel felt so nervous, it almost made her ill. But she still managed to speak somehow, even though her voice sounded shrill and weak. However, the young king answered gently and graciously, which almost shocked her more than his anger would have.
And then she was babbling. How horrifying! She hadn't blundered in that way since she was but a girl, which made the moment even more embarrassing. She had hoped to be eloquent and smooth, but words spilled out of her mouth in an anxious flow. It was likely she would have continued her awkward tirade, but then the King came to her, laid his hand on hers – she had been fidgeting without even noticing it – and gently interrupted her. His proximity was overwhelming and she fell silent out of sheer astonishment. She noticed his smell, soap and pine and woodsmoke with a musky undertone, and found it pleasing. Calming, even. Before she knew it, her nervousness vanished and she felt safe.
What a fool she was to have doubted him!
Those next few moments that followed, she felt a bit like floating in some kind of a warm, soft cloud. He understood her position and was not angry, and his smile, which came both from his face and his eyes, made her heart full and glad. She wondered at how gentle the touch of his hand was, even though his fingers were hardened and strong and didn't seem like they had known many soft and breakable things.
But then he withdrew his hand, cool air brushed against where his warmth had been, and she felt oddly sad for it. To grasp his hand again would seem odd, however, and she clasped her fingers together to suppress the urge.
They parted soon afterwards, their understanding renewed, and then Lothíriel wandered to her rooms, feeling a bit like she was drunk.
Now she was in her chamber once again and her mind was galloping fast through these thoughts and memories. Her heart was aflutter in her breast and a small, secret laugh bubbled just behind her teeth. All this in the course of just one day! It was hard to believe only this morning, she had worried that King Éomer thought her a clumsy simpleton.
And no matter what was ahead, and whatever duty would demand of her, right now she didn't care; she took her joy and hid it in her heart, knowing this was something that could never be taken away from her.
To be continued.
A/N: Here you go! I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter of Bright Horses. I know I did.
It is interesting situation from Lothíriel's perspective, considering her sense of duty, her desire to make her father proud of her, and how these conflict with her growing attraction with Éomer. Looking at the canon, it's undeniable that a match between her and Éomer is a very good one. However, I wanted to explore something a little different here: what if Imrahil already had other plans for his daughter, and what if those plans connected with his sense of duty and friendship with a dead friend? In the books, I don't think there's a mention of Imrahil and Forlong being friends, but neither do I see any reason why it couldn't be. In other words, Éomer hasn't come up in Imrahil's plans for Lothíriel, at least not very seriously, because he feels like he owes it to Forlong and the promise he made to a man about to die. However, what he didn't guess was that she would almost immediately be charmed by Éomer, and vice versa. Imrahil is perceptive and smart, but where raw emotion is involved, judgement may be affected or even mistaken. And like Lothíriel thinks to herself, he regards Éomer much like another newly found son and in a similar sentiment as hers in the first chapter, feels like it's his job to collect all these lost and orphaned people under his wing like he's now their new dad (which also leads him to expect that Lothíriel will regard Éomer no less her brother than Elphir or Erchirion or Amrothos).
Also, I wanted to emphasise that Éomer is genuinely rather charming in canon, which I think isn't often recognised (I generally think he doesn't get much credit for what a nice, decent dude he is). It also brings another interesting quality to the situation, at least from Lothíriel's view: she sees these two men who are both charming in their different, distinctive ways - and how it makes things even more difficult for her. Hadn't she met Éomer, she might not have realised the difference between him and Aegdir so clearly. But as of now, she knows what her father expects of her and what is her duty, and while Éomer doesn't put himself forward, what can she do but try and do as is expected of her? On the other hand, if he thinks she is indeed promised to Aegdir and to interfere would undermine Imrahil (and their friendship), it may be difficult for him to step forth as a suitor. We'll see how that goes!
Thank you for reading and reviewing. Happy holidays to you all, and see you next year!
Hristonostore Onnediel - Thank you!
JennyVDM - Glad you liked it! I think there's definitely room for some ambiquity as far as Éomer and his feelings for Éowyn's actions go. On the one hand, he loves her so much and feels partially responsible for what she went through. Ultimately, he doesn't blame her. But I think he too has his problems and it's not alway so easy for him to keep going, so there are moments when he can't help but be angry with her. This is why I love their relationship so much: there's so much to dig in!
EStrunk - Thanks! I think it's very natural for them to become friends. There are many things that they could bond over - I mean, both are the only daughters in their families, both are the youngest, and would probably have much to talk about what it's like to grow up in a great House.
His timing was indeed impeccable - things might have gone very differently if he hadn't spoken to her at that very point!
Cricket22 - Thank you for your lovely review!
I think there are stories where it's better to leave the other character a little bit mysterious and not show so intimately what they are thinking, but this is not one of them. With this story, it's much more interesting to show what is going through in both their heads. Also, I'm glad to hear it's not repetetive, even though same events are shown through both their eyes! I'm not sure if every chapter will be like this, but at least at this point, I feel like it's necessary to reveal both point of views.
I'm afraid Aegdir is here to stay at least for the time being, but we'll see how things go with him. But otherwise, those are some very interesting suggestions and I will have to think about it! A great thing about Tolkien's writing is that there's so much beneath the surface, and that is especially true for Éomer (and his family, and all the things he went through). But I would say it's fairly easy for me to dig into that, because I've spent such a long time being the fan of this character and Rohan in general.
Also, I think Aragorn is very much shipping Éothiriel - we'll see if he gets a chance to help it happen. ;)
Hope you liked this chapter!
Wtiger5 - I'm glad to hear you changed your mind! It's true, things don't really get going until the third chapter, but some groundwork had to be done, so to speak.
You are quite correct - there's more to her than you'd expect at the first glance! And I would say even Lothíriel herself doesn't fully realise that.
Rho67 - Indeed, things should get interesting from here. Éomer surely has to consider his position very well! But what he doesn't realise is that he is not the easiest man to compete with!
MelissaBlack13 - Thank you! I'm glad to hear you liked it so much. :) And who doesn't enjoy some pining and yearning looks? :D It is very interesting to be inside both their heads and being able to show it to you as well!
Simplegurl4u - Yes, it should make things a bit more interesting! Éomer will have to be careful not to turn feral, indeed. :D I admit I enjoy the idea very much.
Glad to hear you liked it! Their conversation is pretty much my favourite thing about this story so far.
Hobbitpony1 - Imrahil might be upset if he did, though. :')
Jo - Happy to hear it! :) There was indeed some serious bonding between Lothíriel and the House of Eorl. And the connection is definitely growing!
ElflingoftheShire - Unfortunately, Aegdir has his own agenda and is impervious to such appeals. :D
xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thanks! :)
Megingjoro / aryaputra - :D Well, she's just a woman after all! But I will admit I was a bit surprised at how thirsty (as you put it) she came out in the end. :D
Batraz - Indeed he does!