Chapter 9

Although her exhaustion had caused her to sleep heavily, Lothíriel still woke to a new day with a headache. The first thing in her mind was the way her trust had been abused. How was she going to keep up a smiling, placid face today? Though the initial fire of her anger had cooled down, she still feared that when she saw Aegdir again, she might want to say some very horrible things to him.

Her maid arrived, but Lothíriel asked the girl to send a word downstairs that she wasn't going to join others for breakfast; she'd rather have a tray brought to her room, if it wasn't too much trouble. Partly, it was because of herself and not being ready to face her suitor yet. Partly it was because she had her father to think of, and to make a scene before the highest nobility of Gondor was not a way to make him proud of her. On the top of it, she needed time to consider what her next step would be.

And one more thing: King Éomer was her singer, and he had come to stand under her window, as if the song was the only way he could talk to her. Maybe it was, indeed. Something kept him from her, preventing him from speaking straightforwardly and making him avoid her. But behind it all, there was a truth and she felt like he had given it to her through the lament of the sea captain.

It was yet another reason for her to feel angry with Aegdir. Without his lie, she might have spent last night delighted and glad, basking in the memory of King Éomer's voice. But instead, she had seethed in the sense of betrayal, and feeling like she had been trapped into something unsavoury by her naivety and trust. She remembered how it had encouraged her, thinking that the young lord was her singer: how she had seen it as a way to connect with him and perhaps make it easier for her to do her duty. Aegdir had taken something that didn't belong to him and, in the worst case, he could have destroyed it for good. She might have agreed to be his wife because he had tempted her with somebody else's gift.

In this frame of mind, she did not think she could confront him. True, there was a part of her, fierce and furious, that wished to go right now and scream at him for using her trust. But what would that achieve? Such behaviour was beneath her. She would bring shame to herself and her father, and the idea made her shudder. She needed to stay calm and collected.

Lothíriel was sitting before her mirror as these thoughts crossed through her mind and she saw the hard, fierce look upon her features. This was enough. She wasn't going to worry about Aegdir any longer, at least not today. She was tired of having to dance to his tune, of being docile and mild-mannered and standing down; she couldn't keep trying to please him when her thoughts were given to another man.

If she knew where she stood with King Éomer, then she could also make up her mind about what to do with Aegdir. If the first one shot her down and burned her to the ground... well, she supposed then she wouldn't even care anymore if the latter had lied.

However, how to get to the horse-lord, and talk to him alone? How could she make sure he would listen to what she had to say before making some excuses and dodging her questions? Obviously, she needed a plan, and she needed some help. But who could aid her without King Éomer suspecting nothing beforehand?

The answer was quite simple.

He dreamt of her that night. She was wearing that wonderful dress, the one which exposed her shoulders, and she was looking back at him with a slight, inviting smile. Of course he wasn't going to resist, and with a relish, he reached for her bare skin. She was shorter than him, as most people were, and he had to bend down to be able to kiss her neck and her delicate but proudly held shoulders. She leant into the touch, sighing under her breath in barely concealed delight and pleasure. The lacings at the back of her dress opened almost by themselves, revealing even more of soft, supple skin...

The dream took certain very interesting turns, and left him feeling quite frustrated in the morning. Éomer was no stranger to such dreams, but this one surprised him in its intensity, even in the face of how keenly he felt for her. Facing her today, with those painfully vivid images so clear in his head, would be unnerving for a handful of reasons. Not least of them was his drunken song from last night – although now that he was sober, Éomer felt deeply worried that he had done the exact thing Imrahil had asked him not to. It was a hard thing indeed, knowing no matter what he did, he would be letting somebody down.

As such, he felt anxious and distracted at breakfast – a crowded occasion, now that so many new guests had arrived. He kept an eye on the doors, waiting for her to join the party, and answered questions curtly but politely. At least Imrahil didn't direct him any dark looks, which probably meant his occasional ogling at the lady, not to mention the singing, had escaped the Prince's notice last night.

But Lady Lothíriel did not join the party, and he had no way to find out the reason. Was it because of him, or something else? Perhaps the song had put her off, after all. He could only wonder. Of course, he could have asked Éowyn to find out, but his sister was already in a heated mood, and might get creative with trying to remove obstacles on his path to a happy marriage.

Éomer had no idea of what would happen now. It was up to the lady, and what she would decide to do. Who knew? Maybe it was already too late, and her mind was made. It was entirely possible that tonight at the ball, she would announce her engagement to that boy, and he would have no choice but to swallow his complaints and his disappointment.

But before that, he had an entire day of meetings, discussions and negotiations to get through.

In some other circumstances, Lothíriel might have enjoyed the day of meeting with other young nobles, taking walks in the sunny wood or in the garden, enjoying refreshments under the sheltering shade of trees, and partaking in games such as Seven Gates. However, her mind was constantly at least partly in the night to come, and how to get to the King of Rohan alone. And then there was Aegdir, who followed her like a shadow no matter where she went. He was cheerful and charming, but she felt disillusioned now that she knew he had lied to her. Keeping that knowledge to herself was another reason why she was on the edge.

Of course she could have confronted him right now, but with the house so full of people, it was hard to find a private corner. She also feared making a scene, as she did not yet know what she should say to him and how to conduct herself. Lothíriel felt like, if she just knew where she stood with King Éomer, she would be able to figure out the rest. So she hid her truest thoughts and feelings deep inside, and kept a smile on her face. The day passed slowly, though, and she feared her face would start to cramp sooner or later – or that she might scream from sheer frustration. She saw him clearly now and all that had been charming and pleasant about the young man seemed like a sham.

She didn't see King Éomer during the day, but she knew he had meetings with many nobles, including her father. As such, she couldn't talk to her sire, ask for advice, or find out whether the King of Rohan had approached him about her.

As difficult to reach the Lord of Rohirrim apparently was, Aegdir was just as hard to avoid. It was not until the general bustle of lunch, now a major event with all the many guests, that she was able to shake him off for a little bit, and instead get to her brother Amrothos, who was in the middle of some lively tale he was telling to a few ladies of the court he was apparently trying to charm. He didn't seem to appreciate it when she interrupted him and demanded to talk to him alone.

"This better be good", Amrothos grumbled as she was leading him away from the crowd, their arms linked.

"Oh, I think you're going to enjoy it very much. But there is one condition: you can't ask any questions. I need a favour", she whispered to him, scanning her surroundings in case Aegdir appeared.

"A favour? What kind of a favour?" asked her brother, intrigued. It usually was not very difficult to provoke his curiosity.

"No questions, brother. I will owe you, if you do this for me", she told him. She could practically see the wheels turning inside his head, and no doubt he would make full and shameless use of having her in his debt. However, she knew he was the only one she could ask to do this favour for her.

"Fine then. What do you need?" he asked, eyes glinting in mischief. Lothíriel shuddered inwardly. Once he realised the favour would essentially foil Aegdir, he was going to enjoy it to a truly obnoxious degree.

She spoke to him quickly under her breath, explaining what she needed him to do. Amrothos' eyes lit up and he grinned.

"So, you have taken a fancy to Éomer, after all?" he teased her. Yes, she had been quite right: he was going to be perfectly annoying about this.

"That's none of your business. You just focus on doing your part. You can torment me all you want once it's done", she grumbled to him, and had no doubt that he would never let her hear the end of this.

Well, if the plan worked, at least Edoras was hundreds of leagues away from Dol Amroth.

Having secured her brother's help, Lothíriel felt a little easier, and was better able to focus on being amiable than she had so far. But she still felt a little distracted, as her thoughts kept turning to the ball tonight, and what she hoped to do.

At last, the time came to go and change for the evening. Lothíriel was glad for the opportunity to go and be alone for a little bit, even if it were in the company of her maid, but at least the girl didn't fill her ears with constant prattle. Getting ready for the night allowed her to prepare herself, both physically and mentally. Tonight, she chose to wear a full battle dress, her finest, softest silk gown of dark blue and trimmed with silver and pearls at shoulders and breast, like a shower of stars. Carefully she dabbed her wrists and the backs of her earlobes with her perfume, and twined her hair into a shimmering crown of braids. The whisper of silk against her skin made her feel bold and exciting, and it made her think of those dark, gold-flecked eyes lingering on her, heady and intent. Warmth pooled in her belly and rushed in her veins at the mere thought.

Lothíriel looked into her mirror and met her own gaze, which was very bright and resolute. After days of confusion and fear and distress, she felt hopeful.

Tonight, she was not going to let King Éomer get off so easily.

Close to sunset, the great ball began. It was the first one Éowyn and Faramir hosted in their new home – indeed, the first such occasion on the east side of the river in a very long time. Consequently, Éomer knew he would have to make more effort than he had so far. Past few days had been taxing, although he'd never admit it to his sister. He knew she wanted him to enjoy his time here and relax a little bit. He felt like he was letting her down for not having as good a time as she had hoped. But his wilful ways or how he had fallen for the one woman who might not be available were hardly Éowyn's fault. So he prepared for the ball and attempted to think of something amusing, so that he would not look too grim.

The house was full of guests, milling about and chatting and laughing. The atmosphere was a little less formal than in Merethrond, and people moved freely between the dancing floor, the garden, and the drawing room where seats were reserved for the royal guests. Arwen held the court there with her ladies, although she and Aragorn partook in a few dances, outshining all other couples. Seeing them twirl across the dancing floor, gazing at one another with such light in their eyes, Éomer could not help the stab of envy at the bliss of his friends.

The display inspired others just than him. Many were the ladies that tried to catch Éomer's eyes, hoping that he'd invite them to the dance floor, but he pretended he didn't notice. He felt even less inclined when he spotted Lady Lothíriel at Aegdir's arm. She was no less beautiful tonight than yesterday in a shimmering dark blue dress that beautifully emphasised her figure and looked light as air against her skin. But he also saw something else – a radiance she had lacked last night, a glimmer from within. Looking at her was painful, and yet he couldn't turn away.

Others noticed her surpassing grace too and his eyes were not the only ones to follow her. Around himself, Éomer could hear a few whispers about how lovely Imrahil's daughter was tonight, and speculations as to what the reason could be. Naturally, Aegdir was also noticed and his part earned quiet remarks. A pair of elderly ladies from Mundburg were talking close to Éomer and deliberating whether there would be a happy announcement tonight.

"They are a handsome couple, of course", said one of the women, "And among the esteemed families of Gondor, there is not a young man who ranks higher than him. She would be making an excellent match."

Éomer almost growled out loud at this opinion, correct though it may be. He downed his glass of wine and quickly made his way through the crowd. He really did not need to hear more speculations about the Lady of Dol Amroth and her very likely upcoming nuptials.

He moved as quickly as he could in the crowd, but was still stopped several times by other guests, eager to get his attention. He was a little short-tempered with them, which would surely earn him scoldings from Éowyn or Éothain, but he felt hot and uncomfortable and those were just the minor issues contributing to his ill mood. Suddenly, he felt intensely homesick. He even wondered how difficult it would be to sneak into the stables, saddle Firefoot, and start home tonight. But of course he wasn't going to do such a foolish thing.

Once he reached the doors leading outside, he stepped into the open air and breathed deeply. The night was mild, although a little bit chillier than before. He enjoyed it, though, and thought with longing the crisp, still nights of the Riddermark. He thought of the vault of heaven as it spread over the land, filled with numberless stars and the silver disk of the Moon on his eternal voyage. Perhaps it was merely his homesickness talking, but at that moment Éomer was convinced that the sky of Rohan was different and brighter than here in the shadows of Ithilien.

He closed his eyes momentarily, pushing away the noise and bustle around him, and tried to calm down the unease and anxiety that throbbed with a dull, slow ache. He was so distracted, it took a punch to his arm from Amrothos to actually startle back to focus.

"Sleeping on your feet, are you?" asked his friend with an odd little smile on his face.

"Something like that", Éomer replied and meant to raise his glass to his lips, but to his disappointment he realised he had already emptied it.

"Well, I think I've got a thing that will wake you up. Come along! There's something I must show you, but you can't ask any questions", said Amrothos, smiling brightly.

"Should I be worried?" Éomer asked in suspicion and gave a narrow look to the young man.

"Like I said, no questions. Don't worry – you'll find out soon enough", he reassured him. "You know I would never involve you in anything unsavoury."

"Wouldn't you, though?" Éomer asked wryly, but his friend just laughed. How was he her brother, again?

He wondered about what Amrothos was planning. Was there some kind of a secret second party, to which only a few chosen friends were invited? Or what if Amrothos needed help in covering up some unlikely but embarrassing accident? Anything seemed possible in the light of what he knew of Imrahil's third son. He supposed it wasn't at least going to make him any more miserable tonight – in fact it could even be amusing enough to get him through tonight, so he agreed to follow.

"Lead the way, then", he conceded, and his friend grinned. The two men stepped back inside.

Along the way, some of the other guests tried to interject them with this or that question, but Amrothos quickly and efficiently deflected them. Somehow he was able to do it with utmost grace and a cheerful smile, making it sound like he was doing a great favour; Éomer suspected that at least several of the refused felt grateful for the interaction, even if they didn't precisely know why.

Éomer's suspicions arose when Amrothos lead him to the servants' corridor – it seemed rather unusual, and certainly an unlikely spot for a secret party. He cast a meaningful look at his friend, but received only a bright smile in answer.

At last, Amrothos halted at a door. With a flourish, he grasped the handle and half opened it; at this point, Éomer later thought, his suspicions should have risen much higher than they did.

"After you", said Amrothos pleasantly. Éomer frowned at this sudden and unusual show of courtesy, but he still did step forward and into the room. Almost immediately, the door clicked shut behind him.

He looked around himself in the chamber. It appeared to be some kind of a small study, probably belonging to a housekeeper or steward in charge of household servants. There was a small wooden desk, on which papers and quills were in neat order, and a large tome that probably kept the household's ledgers. On one wall stood a tall shelf, but it only had a few scrolls and papers so far; Éowyn and Faramir were still at the very beginning of their life here, and the house had no history to speak of yet. A couple of closed cupboards there were as well, probably containing various household utensils, perhaps spices as well, and other more valuable objects that only the housekeeper or the steward had access to. The chamber was dimly lit by only a couple of candles, and so he did not notice her straight away. But then Lady Lothíriel stepped forward from where she had stood in the shadows, and candlelight fell across her set, resolute features. He had tried hard not to look at her tonight, but now there was no way he could turn his gaze. The silver trimmings of her dark blue gown glimmered softly, and white pearls on her neck and in her dark hair were like glowing snowdrops. She looked like a queen.

What a fool he had been to think that she would go down without a fight!

"My lord", she greeted him, her voice stern and grave, as if she were preparing for battle. "I will not insult your intelligence or mine; I expect you know why I asked Amrothos to bring you here."

Indeed, she had been cunning in her plan to get him here. She had asked the help of her one brother who would allow them to be alone like this, and no doubt Amrothos stood outside right now, ready to push him back inside if he tried to get out without talking to her.

"I do have some inkling", Éomer said warily, knowing already he was between a stone and a hard place. What was he going to say to her, if he meant to respect Imrahil's wishes? And yet, he had himself invited this moment when he had drunkenly sang to her.

"Then I would like to hear your reasons for first letting me believe that you were going to ask for my hand, and then acting as if we were barely acquainted", she said sharply. She stood straight and graceful, and somehow was able to make herself seem much taller than she actually was.

"I wish I could tell you everything, but I cannot", Éomer said quietly.

Her eyes flashed.

"You cannot think I will accept that! Are you not a man of honour and honesty, like I've been told?" she demanded, her words lashing out like a whip. It almost made him flinch. Normally, to have his integrity challenged would have greatly angered him. However, she had every right to do so.

"Even a man who strives to be those things may find himself restrained by other bonds", he said carefully. He barely could look at her, and yet at the same time, he wasn't able to turn his gaze away. Never had this young woman seemed more full of fire and resolution, and yet the candlelight shrouded her fierce look in a soft glow. She was exquisite.

"That is quite the hypocritical thing to hear from the man who had no qualms about singing below my window last night!" she snapped, and he had to admire the way she waged this battle with her words. It nearly made him smile in spite of himself and the situation

"If my singing has offended you, then I apologise. I will admit it was probably ill-advised. But tell me this: are you not spoken for already, my lady?" he asked her, although he felt it may be the wrong thing to say, or at least careless.

She jerked forward, glaring at him with those unbearably bright, grey eyes of hers.

"I am not! And you cannot be so ignorant as to not realise that I would refuse him in a heartbeat, if you just asked me to!" Lady Lothíriel nearly exclaimed, looking as if she might hurl the chair at the desk at him in sheer frustration.

"I cannot ask such a thing, even if I wanted it."

She stared at him for a moment.

"Tell me the truth. I deserve that much, don't I?" she said, and though her tone was hard, he could still see a flash of vulnerability in her eyes. She risked her own misery by challenging him, and yet she was doing it with such courage and determination that he could only admire her.

And still, seeing that flash, he realised that he would have to choose his words very carefully, or else he might truly break her heart and bring her such pain as he'd never wish upon her. It was the last thing he wanted to do, and Imrahil would not forgive him her unhappiness.

"So you do, my lady. In my eyes, you deserve the world and all the joy in it", Éomer said quietly, his voice nearly cracking. He wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer. His chest felt tight for just looking at her, the expression of resolve on her face and the blazing of her grey eyes, that reminded him of thunderstorms. She was dismantling his armour, opening up chambers of his heart which he had long since sealed tight; she stepped inside, brushed off the dust and made it hers – giving new shape and colour to his dreams.

"I do not understand you, lord. What holds you back? Do you not..." she said, and hesitated, although the words did hang in the air between them – do you not love me – as if it would somehow be preposterous to say it out loud. She frowned as she continued, "Do you not wish to be with me? Do you not want the same thing as I – to be like how we were when we sat and talked by the river?"

He could not answer, both because of the bond on him and because the words got stuck in his throat. But she didn't seem to need it.

"You will not speak", she said, "and yet I see the answer in your eyes! Why must you torment us both like this?"

Afterwards, Éomer couldn't rightly say what it was that moved him then – whether it was the hint of despair in her voice, or the way she just looked at him like he was the sun in her sky, or the sheer fact that he did love her and could not bear to let her think otherwise. But whatever the ultimate reason was, something broke down inside, he took one long stride, and grasped her face between his hands. With his momentum, they didn't stop until her back hit the wall, his fingers sheltering the back of her head from impact, and then he kissed her.

It was clumsy and graceless, and only lasted a few breathless seconds. She pulled back, glaring at him.

"How dare you kiss me!" she exclaimed, her eyes filled with sparks, but despite her words there was no true outrage in her face. She waited only a split second before fiercely pressing her own lips back against his.

The whole world narrowed into the space between them. She did not kiss him timidly, but almost with wanton abandon, fuelled by the rough and wild emotions of the past several minutes. She was not a submissive partner, but challenged him, pulling him to her as if she needed to make him stay. Sparks flew behind his eyelids. And yet each clash and hard edge of the kiss was quickly softened with tender little caresses that implied a far greater intimacy than they had yet known between each other. Their fingers entwined, and somehow the softness of her fingertips amended the years and years of toil which had hardened his hands.

He felt relieved, as if a man at the end of a very long day when he finally comes home. In her kiss, something became complete and the great emptiness he had felt inside as the world moved forward around him, had vanished.

After several minutes of this extremely pleasant exchange, Éomer finally pulled back a little bit so that could see her. They remained chest against chest, her back pressed to the wall, and her small hands clasped against his own. When he looked into her eyes, he no longer saw the storm, but the evening's sky after a bright day, calm and quiet. The fierce, demanding indignation had utterly vanished and she watched him with such light and affection that it made him tremble.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. He didn't trust his voice yet, and at any rate, he felt like it might ruin this sweet, wondrous moment. How sure he had been that he had already lost her! But though he had never felt like this, and there was probably a lot he needed to learn about loving another, he still knew that a woman did not look at a man like this, if she meant to give him up.

"I do wish to be with you, Lady Lothíriel", he uttered at last. "More than I could ever tell you."

"Then be with me. That is all I ask", she whispered back, and just like that, she made him hers. Her choice could not be clearer and even Imrahil would have to see it.

Éomer would have kissed her again, but it was then Amrothos decided to interrupt them. The young man must have realised he had already let them be alone much too long. No doubt it also concerned him how quiet things had got in the study.

"Hey! I am going to open this door and you two better not be doing anything unsavoury once I do!" he yelled through the door. Éomer used that second to step back, although his blood was still singing in his veins, pulling him to her. She tried to pat down her hair, but her lips were swollen and she was still breathing unevenly.

Amrothos opened the door and half stepped inside. With a quick, keen glance he took in their appearances and scowled. At first Éomer was surprised that he, who had acted so cheerfully while bringing them together, would now be worried about his sister's virtue. But then he understood it was because Amrothos had not realised the gravity of the situation, or how far gone both of them were. Depending on how much the lady had revealed to her brother (which clearly wasn't the full truth), Amrothos had probably expected she just wanted a private audience with the famous king – not a chance for a clandestine tryst.

"I leave you alone for five minutes!" he accused, glaring at them both. "Do you know how many rules I just broke!"

"Thank you, Amrothos. You're a darling", said Lothíriel, and somehow she managed to sound perfectly calm and steady. "The King and I were just having a conversation."

Her brother glowered.

"You know Father would kill us both if he saw this, don't you?" he growled at her.

"Don't be so dramatic, brother", she said breezily, although the look she directed at Éomer glittered with mischief and amusement that did remind him a bit of her brother. It was an interesting thing to notice about her – that beneath her grace and sense of duty and competence, there was also such capacity for unbridled joy.

"I shall speak more to you tomorrow, my lady", he said to her solemnly. It was clear now that he was going to have to talk to Imrahil again, and tell him what was what. And he expected she too would have things to tell her father. Would Imrahil be very disappointed? How could he be, if he wished to see her happy in such a way as she now, in this moment, was?

"I will see you then, my lord", she said, smiling slightly before looking at her brother, "Will you escort me back to my room? I think I need to fix my hair."

Amrothos grumbled all the way out, his hand on her elbow as if he thought Éomer might snatch her away otherwise, and the young lord cast him a deeply distrustful look over his shoulder. Éomer met it with a bright, pleasant smile.

He nearly laughed out loud once they were gone. It was as if some heavy weight he had not noticed carrying had suddenly fallen from him, leaving him with unexpected lightness.

Whether his singing had done the trick, or it was all her own determination and doing, things had turned around. Tomorrow would see the start of something new – a life that was meant for more than just lonely toil.

He could hardly wait to see it dawn.

Amrothos was fuming as the two siblings made their way to the guest wing. Lothíriel was secretly amused by how seriously he took it, especially considering the part he had played. But then, she hadn't told him everything, definitely not the part about her feelings for King Éomer. And at any rate, when she had first asked for her brother's aid, she had not even dared to hope that the meeting would end so extremely well. Certainly, she had not expected the horse-lord to kiss her like that, although she was quite pleased that he had.

"Honestly, sister! I would never have expected you to canoodle with King Éomer like that!" he rebuked her. He kept shaking his head in a way that was sure to cause him to pull a muscle if he didn't stop soon. Even so, his choice of words made her nearly snort in laughter. She suppressed it because she didn't want him to go tattling to Father.

"I will admit things got a bit out of hand, but I assure you nothing truly serious happened", she told him in her sweetest, most innocent voice. There was no use in explaining to him that reconciliation had been necessary – that the kiss was inevitable as soon as King Éomer got it in his stubborn head that she was not about to let him go without a fight. She continued, "And in any case, I don't intend to elope with him or anything like that. I mean to do this properly, and I have no doubt he agrees with me. I'll talk to Father as soon as possible."

"Well, it was still very irresponsible of you, dear sister. You don't know what a man can do in just five minutes", he muttered.

"King Éomer wouldn't be so shameless. He was quite lovely, in fact", said Lothíriel, smiling to herself. Indeed, once he got over his idea that he had to keep his distance, he was... oh, Elbereth, there were no words for it! She could still taste him on her lips, still feel the rub of his beard against her skin. The sensation sent sparks of fire through her veins and into that hungry place which now yearned for him more eagerly than ever. But of course she wasn't going to say any of that to Amrothos, or he would probably drag her to their father's ship and take her home himself this very night.

In any case, daydreaming about the King of Rohan would have to wait, and she cast a stern look at her brother. She said, "I do wonder that you have so clear idea about what a man can do in five minutes. I hope you're not being hypocritical or having double standards."

His colour deepened at her remark.

"That is not the point, sister", he muttered.

"Then what is? I thought you would be delighted with this development. My 'canoodling' with King Éomer takes Aegdir out of the picture, which I understand was your dear wish", she pointed out.

"Stop saying 'canoodling!'"

"It's your word, not mine!"

Amrothos groaned.

"Well, I am glad if this means I won't have to call Aegdir my brother. Just be careful with your suitors. I know which one I prefer, but the other may not be happy to hear someone else was chosen over him", Amrothos told her seriously.

"I can handle him, brother", she said calmly. They had now reached the door of her chamber and she tiptoed to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for helping out. You may feel disgruntled now, but you have done me an untold favour."

His features softened at last

"Just promise me you won't be sneaking off to dark corners to meet with King Éomer again", he told her emphatically. Unable to resist the chance to tease him, she just winked and smiled, which made him groan once more.

"I will ship you back to Dol Amroth myself, if I have to!"

"You will have to catch me first! Beware – I may change my mind about eloping!" she shot back and quickly shut the door between them, laughter bubbling in her throat.

Still smiling, she made her way to the looking glass and sat down to fix her hair. Everything had gone so much better than she had dared to hope. At worst, she had thought that the King might reject her utterly. But though something still held him from speaking bluntly, it was clear he was not indifferent to her pleas. Through the confrontation, he had looked at her with such pain and helplessness. It was clear he was deeply dismayed that he could not speak as he desired. But the answers to her most important question were plain in his eyes. That was a truth he could not hide.

With a pleased little sigh, she closed her eyes momentarily and thought of his body against hers, his hands which were both so hard and yet so gentle, and that wickedly talented mouth! The memory of his kiss made her toes curl. Even after the kiss ended, he stood close and stared at her, his eyes aglow with silent adoration. In his arms, she didn't feel like a girl that her brothers must protect, or a dutiful daughter that had no thought beyond the prospects of her family, but like a woman grown with a mind and will of her own. It was as if he had woken her to a life unlike anything she knew. She thought to herself, to be loved by such a man who felt things so fully and deeply, would be both a bit scary and still the most exciting thing she had ever felt. What she had imagined as placid contentment by Aegdir's side now seemed like a colourless, tasteless thing.

There was no way she could agree to his proposal., not after the events of tonight. Nor could she believe that King Éomer would accept it, for the pull between them was now stronger than ever, and fiercer.

This made her wonder about why he, for all purposes, had seemingly made way to Aegdir. He didn't seem to think he was at liberty to speak, and he had gone as far as telling his sister not to say anything to her. He had said he couldn't ask her to refuse her other suitor... and assumed out loud that she was spoken for already. The only reason he would do so, as far as she could see, was if someone had told him to hold back.

Obviously, it was none of her brothers – Amrothos' stance was extremely clear, and even Elphir and Erchirion would favour their Rohirric friend. King Elessar would probably think it a good match if she and Gondor's chief ally were wedded, and Queen Arwen would agree with this. Éowyn and Faramir were both very unlikely. Lothíriel could not imagine Éowyn standing for anyone except her brother, and Faramir was unlikely to deny his brother-in-law anything after the King had blessed the union between his sister and the Steward of Gondor. Doubtless Faramir would also be eager to take his new wife's side, if they ever did discuss such things between themselves.

In the end, it could be nobody else than her father. Her and Aegdir's match had been his hope from the beginning. She had wondered if he didn't realise that King Éomer would indeed outshine competition, but perhaps Father had realised it. He may have told the Lord of Rohan to give Aegdir some chance of winning her over... and because King Éomer was a good man, faithful to his friends, he had agreed. She thought of their conversation back at the river and all that she had read between lines: how he saw it as his duty to put others' needs and wishes before his own. It made her ache for him so that she almost wanted to run out and find him right now. So he had complied, and because they already were so drawn to one another at that point, he had seen it as his only choice to avoid her and act as if they were barely in speaking terms.

Lothíriel almost laughed out loud at how simple the answer was in the end. It could have been avoided if she had just been honest with her father and told him about the King and how much she liked him. She had worried too much about pleasing her father to see the full picture. She should have spoken with the King frankly, perhaps make sure that he wouldn't go to her father alone. Lothíriel couldn't blame the poor man: he came from a different culture and had probably tried to be respectful by talking to her father first. Perhaps he had also felt too impatient to wait. But therein lay another problem, for Father was not a casual acquaintance but a good friend and an ally to the King of Rohan, and in their positions, friendship could make things more complicated, not simpler. Remembering the shipments of grain that she had watched leaving the haven of Dol Amroth, she considered he probably felt indebted to her father and thus duty-bound ot do do as was asked of him. However, she didn't know what they had spoken of between one another, but clearly the outcome was very badly misinformed.

Well, that was going to have to be mended. She would talk to both of them as soon as she could – and probably also give them a piece of her mind concerning how they had made such decisions behind her back, without asking her opinion. After that, when all things were made clear at last, she and the King could start to plan their future together. The thought was so thrilling, she couldn't even feel much regret or guilt for knowing that she'd have to turn Aegdir down and probably disappoint him very deeply.

Her hair now fixed, Lothíriel sat still for a moment and studied her reflection. This morning, her look had been listless and ill at ease. Now she held her head and her shoulders higher without any effort and a spark had returned into her eyes. It was easy to smile at the face of a hopeful young woman, who finally knows where her path is taking her.

To be continued.

A/N: Phew! I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me. ;)

It took me a while to finish up this chapter, because I've been busy and drained lately, though I wrote it fairly quickly (especially the latter part). I expect my posting schedule will remain slow and irregular for a while. But I do very much intend to finish this story, however long it takes.

It felt clear to me that Lothíriel would be the one taking initiative in this chapter, confronting Éomer and demanding him to answer. And as you can see, his answer is very satisfactory for her! On the other hand, you could also look at it from the perspective that she took initiative because of his singing. Either way, you may have guessed that she wasn't going to leave it at that. Naturally, Amrothos is the perfect partner in crime - although he doesn't really guess what he's signing up for!

As for Éomer, confronting her is rather painful because he has no good options. No matter what he does, he's letting down somebody. But in the end, she leaves him no choice, and though he doesn't necessarily spell it out, he feels that Imrahil may forgive him making this move but not causing unhappiness to Lothíriel.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. I know the world is a dark, crazy place right now, and it's more important than ever to love one another and be kind.

fanfictionstakesawaymylife - Not sure this is the confrontation you were thinking of, but I hope you liked it! ;)

Hobbitpony1 - Glad to hear it! I must admit it was rather satisfying to have her realise the truth.

Evermore22 - Thank you! It did feel nice to write that little moment after they had spent the whole chapter hurt and confused.

Also I am so glad to hear that my little story was able to distract you for a little bit! It has been a horrible month, indeed.

EStrunk - I think Éomer is a good dude, and even if he sees somebody's mistakes, he still can feel compassion for them.

Aragorn may have his own ideas, but at the same time, he probably hopes the two will resolve the matter by themselves. Which appears to be what's now happening. ;)

I'm glad you liked the drunken serenading! :D I do think Éomer is a kind of guy who would do stuff like that, and I imagine him being impulsive when he's drunk.

Cricket22 - Is this happy enough for you? :D I do hope you like it!

I'm glad to hear you think so. I would imagine their similar melancholy considerations make it clear they both have strong feelings for one another.

No Imrahil (or finding out what's going on) in this chapter, but I think Lothíriel has now found the courage to tell him how she truly feels. At any rate, she has less reason to go along with her father's plan than she ever did before!

I'll try to work on the story as much as I can, but life is being a bitch right now. I'm not going to abandon this story, though!

Wondereye - Glad you liked it!

I'd say Lothíriel is more of a type that simmers in silence. She may feel angry, but she doesn't show it, especially not in a fierce and straightforward way that Éomer does. She's very concerned with keeping her truest feelings private and showing the world only what her status demands.

LH Wordsmith - It felt like some relief was in order, even if they didn't yet have a reconciliation of any sort. I hope you enjoyed the confrontation in this chapter, though! ;) Not perhaps the boldness you hoped for, but I myself am quite pleased with it!

Also I imagine Éomer now has much less qualms about wooing her than he did before!

ElflingoftheShire - :D That reaction made me laugh! Glad you enjoyed it. And I'm very happy to hear you like this version of Lothíriel so much!

Also Éowyn deserves all the hype!

sailor68 - Glad you liked the singing!

I thought about whether she'd first confront Aegdir or try to speak to Éomer. The latter seemed more likely - she feels more strongly about him, anyway, and needs to know where they stand. But you're right, her view of Aegidr is now very different than before!

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thanks!

Hannibal Lectrice - Thank you! Glad you liked it. :)

Jo - She does indeed! I'm happy to hear you enjoyed the singing!

Cathael - Good that you caught up, even if you missed the update!

I think he is VERY happy right now! :D