Chapter 13

Imrahil talked with Aegdir for almost an hour, and when he returned, he looked weary and sad. Doubtless it was hard for him to come to terms with his disappointment and the realisation he had not judged the young man rightly. He was not angry, though, and the young king wondered what Aegdir had told him.

Later on, Éomer decided it was good that his friend had taken this time to speak with the lordling. For when Imrahil nodded and told him Aegdir was waiting for him, his own anger had changed. It was no longer so horribly violent. His epiphany by Lothíriel's bedside had put everything in a different light.

Until the last moment before he stepped into Faramir's study, Éomer half expected Aegdir to have run. But the young man was waiting for him. Aegdir looked small and deflated and Éomer guessed Imrahil had already given him such a tongue-lashing as only the father of Amrothos could deliver.

Both men stood silently for a moment, appraising one another. To his credit, Aegdir met Éomer's stare and did not turn away, even though he grew visibly more uneasy with each second that passed.

"I take it Imrahil has already made things clear to you", Éomer said at last. He did not waste his breath on titles. "And as long as I have only the lady's promise, I am not entitled to demand your punishment. Even so, being involved in these events, I believe I do have some rights. What do you have to say for yourself, Aegdir?"

The young man hesitated and momentarily looked down on his feet. He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet before speaking.

"I have no excuses, my lord. I know I made a very bad mistake, and maybe it's the kind that cannot be forgiven. I don't think I would forgive it, if I were you. Still, you must know that I meant her no harm. If I could, I'd change places with her right now, and take her wound on myself", Aegdir said slowly, but with growing vehemence. Éomer, being a man of keen sight and quick to detect a lie, saw only sincerity in this young man. He truly seemed to be sorry.

But being sorry would not undo her pain, or the danger upon her life.

"Yet you still brought her in harm's way. Because of you, she was outside at that hour, unaccompanied. You made her feel unsafe in your presence and tried to force her to comply. And you left her behind when the attack came", Éomer said, and even with his earlier musings, his anger nearly rose anew. Aegdir must have seen it too, for he flinched and looked more nervous than before.

However, the boy was able to compose himself once again.

"I don't deny any of that, Sire. I did allow my disappointment and sense of betrayal take over me. I thought the lady had used me only to entice a better match for herself. I was angry with her, and with you. More angry than I have ever been, perhaps. I drank too much last night, which made everything even worse. I let it overcome me, and so laid hands on her in a way no man ever should. And I did act like a coward when I didn't make sure she made it out of the forest. All of this is true", Aegdir admitted.

"Indeed. But no matter how angry or drunk you were, that is no excuse to lose your sense so completely. You manhandled her and then chased her into the woods. One can only imagine how it might have escalated if the attack had not come. A man who loses control in this way is no man at all."

This made the young man blush, but to Éomer's surprise, he didn't try to deny it.

"I know exactly how badly it reflects on me. I can only say that I was beyond reason at that point. When she started to run, I thought she was going to get us both in trouble, maybe get lost in the woods or something of the sort – I just wanted to stop her. I swear I didn't mean to do anything worse. Of course everything is obvious to me now, and I see exactly where I went wrong. But there are only so many ways I can apologise for my mistake."

"Either way, you put an innocent life in danger", Éomer pointed out, frowning.

"With all due respect, all this is easy for you to say, my lord."

The young king merely raised a quizzical eyebrow at this, but Aegdir was quick to explain himself.

"Your life could not be more different than mine, lord. No one sings songs about my strength and courage and the wonderful things I've done, and never will. In my experience, your kind of people cannot comprehend what it's like to be scared and full of self-doubt. I was not raised to be a warrior. When you were a boy, they put a sword in your hand, but I was given a lute. No more was expected of me – not until my brother died. Orcs were only a scary story for me until this day. I've tried to do the best with what I was given, just like you. And you are a king, admired by your friends and all who know you. Whatever you desire in this world is yours for the taking. Do you blame me for begrudging you for her affection? For once, I had thought I was a bit like you, winning the esteem of a great lady. But then you came, and suddenly I could see the light in her eyes turning away from me. I had thought I could have this one thing, but once again I was to make way for someone like you. It seemed so utterly unfair. I was so angry, I made mistakes, and I am so sorry and so ashamed for it all", Aegdir spoke, sometimes more quickly and his voice rising, and then slowing down again and talking with a deeper emotion. Those emotions also passed freely upon his face, with openness Éomer did not recall seeing among Gondorians – at least beyond his circle of friends. He knew how rare it was to receive a speech like this from somebody like Aegdir. They were prickly and proud and particular about their sense of honour and dignity. But now the young man was humbling himself, exposing his doubt and vulnerability.

There were things Éomer might have said, such as he too knew what it was to doubt himself, or that he was never as scared as when his family was in danger. Perhaps knowing these things could have helped Aegdir somehow, at least to understand that Éomer was not living some kind of a charmed life – that he too had his struggles, though they were different. But he had not come here to explain himself to the lordling or to be the boy's teacher. He was too tired, too uneasy, and too consumed with his worry for Lothíriel.

But even so, the young lord's words did feel like it completed what Éomer had earlier thought by her bedside. There was no use in feeling anger for him. Rather, his feelings now turned into pity. From Éowyn's experiences, he knew what it could do to a person to be pressed down by overwhelming duty. And his own life, in a way, was an answer. The crown had passed to him when Théoden and Théodred died, destroying the life he had lived until that point. He had never wanted this – being Marshal like his father before him was all he ever desired in the way of ambition – but he had no other choice except to try and fill the void Théodred had left behind. Just as Aegdir was trying to live up to his father and his brother.

If Éomer was not able to understand the terrible burden of Aegdir's position and have compassion for him, then no one could.

And there was her. She had asked him not to be too hard on the young man; she would not thank him for taking his anger out on Aegdir. To act like a violent brute, no matter how justified... that was not the way Éomer wanted their shared path to begin. Would she even want him anymore if he lashed out like some beastly thing? Only a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have cared what anyone thought. But something had changed after their conversation by the river. Her questions, her gentle way, and her eyes watching him had made him look deep inside of himself, finding there the man he could become. The man he wanted to become.

He could not let her down.

At last, Éomer let out a sigh. Aegdir watched him, silently and nervously waiting for an answer.

"You speak as if this was an issue we could talk and decide between ourselves, bothering only Imrahil with it. But in all your words, you barely mention Lady Lothíriel. What of her hopes and thoughts? All three of us have made assumptions and ignored her. Not one of us stopped to consider what she wanted. Did you ever bother to ask her how she felt about anything, or try to find out why she seemed to take more interest in someone else than you? It seems to me you took her for granted, although she doesn't owe you anything. And I did too. I put someone else's needs before hers. I was impatient and frustrated and my self-willed actions caused her pain. But I shall not do it again, if I can help it. Now I ask that you do this for her, too. Respect her choice, Aegdir, because it's the only way you can do right by her", he said gravely.

The young man listened to him in silence, looking down. After a while, he spoke again.

"I see. You are right, I suppose. I did not ask her, but... I didn't realise that I had to. I have not had many women in my life, Sire: my mother died long ago and I had no sisters. I was practically raised by tutors, grey-haired scholars from Minas Tirith who rarely if ever had wives of their own."

Here Éomer interrupted the young man.

"Whether you have had women in your life or not should not determine how you treat them", he pointed out sternly.

Aegdir considered this momentarily and looked uncomfortable.

"I do not deny that. I only meant to say that I haven't had a chance to learn better. Perhaps it is different in your land, but for young men of Gondor, especially if they have no close female kin, it is rare to have women as friends. So I made assumptions about Lady Lothíriel, and I believed that she knew everything and accepted the courtship. I thought she had goals like mine: to marry conveniently and for the good of her family and generations to come. That is how things are done among the nobles of Gondor and I never imagined she had other hopes. Why else would she agree to let me court her? That she would want to marry for love seemed preposterous to me. Either it was a feint to get rid of me so that she could focus solely on winning you, Sire, or a passing fancy that she would shake off if myself or her father spoke sense to her. But I see now I judged everything wrongly."

Then both of them were silent, looking back on the events of the past few days and reconsidering their actions. There were now many points where Éomer wished he had made different decisions – perhaps she would be safe and unharmed if he had been more cautious and patient.

"You still have more to answer for, Aegdir. You left her in the woods, and then ran off after I met you by the river. These don't seem like the actions of a very good man", Éomer said then. Aegdir grimaced.

"I know well how it seems. But I swear I didn't leave her on purpose. I thought she was right behind me. Fear overtook me, and only when I reached the edge of the forest did I realise she was gone. I was dismayed, but what could I do? I wasn't going to be much of a help to her if I ran back, alone and defenceless. I thought it was better to get to the manor house and make the alarm – call upon the Rangers, who actually know these lands", Aegdir answered. He sounded a little less nervous now, perhaps having realised Éomer was not going to take some bloody revenge on him.

"Then where have you been the whole morning?"

"I did not run off after meeting you, Sire. Not on purpose, at least. I did go get Faramir like you told me. After I had explained to him what had happened, I... I just walked. I was distraught and ashamed and bewildered, and the realisation of what I had done was finally dawning on me. Things seemed so bad, I didn't even think anyone would need me anytime soon. I didn't know what to do or where to go. Eventually, I fell under a tree near the house, and I think I passed out for a while. I did drink quite a lot last night, you see. Lord Amrothos found me there and dragged me back, shouting abuse at me the whole way. He wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain I hadn't meant to go hiding", said Aegdir. He looked so embarrassed, it almost made Éomer wonder what exactly Amrothos had said to the young man. But knowing Amrothos, it was probably foul enough to make even a bar wench blush.

It was a convenient explanation, but then again, this did not mean it was false. The lordling appeared as sincere as from the start. And even now it was clear to see how he had spent his night: he wore the same clothes as at the ball, there was stubble on his chin and cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot and almost glassy with weariness and hangover. Grudgingly, Éomer had to admit he had got his share of bad ideas after a night of drinking. Granted, his bad ideas hadn't nearly got someone killed, but that was more thanks to dumb luck than his own actions. Perhaps there was some merit to Aegdir's comparison between the two of them. The young king was utterly uncomfortable with the thought of standing down when danger was afoot, but he also had to concede it was moderately sensible to know when to step back and let those who were more capable to take care of the situation.

After all, maybe it was not his job to determine what was the truth. Aegdir's explanation satisfied him as much as one could hope for, and at least the lad hadn't tried to make up a lie that would make him look better – nor had he attempted to deny his responsibility in these events.

"My lord, if you do not mind... what happens to me now?" Aegdir asked quietly.

"That is for Aragorn to decide. And it depends on how serious the wound is", Éomer replied, feeling suddenly very tired. Not physically, but rather inside his mind. He wanted to get back to Lothíriel, even if there was nothing he could do for her, except just stay by her side. He didn't think Aegdir had anything more to tell him.

"Prince Imrahil said King Elessar and Lady Éowyn have tended to the wound and she is resting now", Aegdir said hesitantly.

"Aye, that is correct."

"I expect the family won't want me there."

"It's probably better for you to stay away for the time being", Éomer said, smiling without humour. Amrothos especially might become feral if Aegdir showed his face anywhere near the lady.

"Could you ask her if she would agree to see me? I would like to apologise in person", Aegdir asked. It was rather decent of him, and it surprised Éomer, but he masked his reaction the best he could.

"I will ask. But if her decision is something other than what you wish, do not expect me to vouch for you", he warned the young man.

"I don't, Sire. I am well aware she is not the only one to suffer from my mistakes", Aegdir said. He seemed to hesitate, and then in a quieter, more nervous voice he continued, "For what it's worth, my lord, I was wrong about you."

This surprised Éomer, and this time, he allowed it to show.

"Perhaps I was not entirely fair with you, either", he said slowly. It felt strange to say such a thing out loud when only this morning, he had been ready to tear this young man apart. But now, after hearing Aegdir speak so openly, he could no longer feel hate. The lordling was simply a lost, foolish, inexperienced young man under a great deal of pressure who had made a terrible mistake in his anger and disappointment. In many ways Éomer could relate to this. He might have been very much like Aegdir, hadn't Théoden and Théodred guided him to another path.

He was not going to forget what Aegdir had done to Lothíriel, but he did not have to be a beast about it.

They parted ways after that, and Éomer returned to the infirmary, lost in thought. But he forgot about Aegdir quickly when one of the Swan Knights came to summon him. Erchirion had returned from the woods, and he had some news.

Next to the infirmary was a small study used by Éowyn and the healers of her household for preparing remedies and other such tasks. The company gathered there, although the space only just barely had room for them all. Éomer himself stood with his back against the wall and felt a little like any sudden movement of his arms might knock something down or break the delicate glass vials and bottles sitting on tables and shelves. Around him stood Éowyn, Aragorn, and Imrahil and his two sons. Elphir was probably still with Faramir.

"What news do you have, my son?" asked Imrahil when all were present.

"There is not as much to tell as I had hoped. We've been searching the woods, and will continue doing it, but little has been found. Faramir's Rangers have caught a few orcs but it seems most of them have scattered and vanished. It was probably just a small scouting party. Faramir thinks they were drawn to the commotion at the manor house and were searching the premises, and Éothain wondered if they were trying to find out if a quick raid could be made to capture some loot and prisoners. Unfortunately, my sister and that fool from Lossarnarch happened to get in the way. As a result, the scouts were exposed", Erchirion explained. He took a long sip from a cup of water somebody had given to him. Tracking could be thirsty work especially in summer. All the same, this news confirmed what Éomer had already suspected when he first found her in the woods.

"This is worrying. If they are trying to scout on our home, it could mean an attack is coming", Éowyn said, frowning.

"There is more activity in these woods that I would like. Something foul is brewing at our borders", said Aragorn, though his calm expression belied the concern in his voice.

"If you require my help, I will need some time. My Riders are not prepared for a campaign, either in equipment or numbers. Most of my best trackers are back in Rohan", Éomer added.

"And if there is a threat upon our home, then Faramir and I need help to defend it. Our Rangers can't both guard Emyn Arnen and fight a campaign. This is our first permanent foothold in Ithilien and it would be a grievous setback if it was destroyed so soon", Éowyn continued. He felt quietly proud of her, for though she herself did not take part in battles anymore, she clearly had a keen mind for strategy. She would defend her new home as fiercely as she had ever stood up for Rohan.

"I can provide guards to protect this place. I will not deny this has become personal for me", Imrahil said gravely. He glanced at Éowyn, "And not just because of my daughter. You and my nephew are my family also."

Éowyn smiled and Éomer could see her posture relaxing a bit. He knew many had wondered at her and Faramir's union, but having the support of a great lord like Imrahil must be a heartening thing.

"Very well. I had thought to bring soldiers from Minas Tirith, but perhaps they will serve better under Faramir's command. We shall make our plans once he returns and we know more. It would be good if we should be able to interrogate at least one of these scouts, though I admit it is often a fool's errand", Aragorn said for his part and let out a sigh. He looked resigned, which was understandable. Arwen was expecting their first child and he would rather focus on this wonderful event than plan a war campaign. Silently, Éomer put his hand on the shoulder of his friend. He understood Aragorn's concerns all too well. He too would rather be focusing on other things than looking for some kind of an orc-infested cave in the woods or mountains, but as so often, his personal and private happiness would have to wait.

"How quickly can you summon your Riders, Éomer?" asked Erchirion.

"It will take a couple weeks at least, perhaps more. I will have to get back to Edoras to arrange everything, though it should be easier than mustering the whole of Rohan. A campaign like this requires seasoned Riders and careful planning, but I will also have to persuade my council of its necessity. They will not like it", Éomer answered. As he spoke, he grew more and more troubled. What if he was asked to leave as soon as possible? How could he refuse his friends' and family's need, and yet leave Lothíriel while she was wounded? At least in his own eyes, this would make him as unreliable as Aegdir.

"You can always send one of your men ahead to begin the preparations. I know you wish to stay here until Lady Lothíriel is better", said Éowyn gently, having guessed his thoughts at once.

"It is true – I would like to be sure she's safe before I go", he admitted, fixing his eyes on Éowyn because he didn't want to meet the pitying looks that he was convinced he would see on others' faces.

"What makes you so interested in her?" asked Erchirion, eyes narrowed. It was, in a way, surprising that he had not yet heard or realised what was going on with his sister and the young king. Then again, so much had been happening these past few days, it was understandable.

"I should be interested in her, seeing I have asked her to marry me", Éomer replied stiffly. He wasn't in the mood to explain himself.

Erchirion stared open-mouthed, but Amrothos scoffed, "You can be so slow, brother. They've been making eyes at one another for days! It has not been particularly subtle."

"I'm not sure you were any more aware of the fact before yesterday", Éomer pointed out, but Amrothos ignored him.

"Father, what do you have to say about this?" Erchirion asked. While his words may have implied otherwise, he didn't seem like he was disapproving of this news about his sister and his friend. Mostly, his expression was surprised and disbelieving.

"It is not a discussion for right now, but I know and approve of it", Imrahil told his son gravely. "And for the record, she chose better for herself than I did. The man I would have trusted her with put her in harm's way, while the one she wanted rescued her from it. She might have died in the woods, if not for Éomer."

This statement brought on a brief, heavy silence. Again the young king felt their eyes on himself, which he did not like.

"Erchirion, how soon is Faramir returning? If I am to send a Rider back to Rohan, I need more details. Otherwise, my council is going to think I've lost it or that I'm ordering to muster the éoreds simply because I want to amuse myself and my warriors with a nice little frolic in the woods", he said, mostly to lead the conversation back to a path he was comfortable with.

"He won't be back before morning. My cousin took a company of his best Rangers to go and search the woods near the mountains", said Erchirion. His tone was normal, but he still eyed his Rohirric friend with some wonder. This was going to make for some rather awkward interactions in the future, but it was also telling. It appeared most of the Amrothian family had never even considered Éomer as a likely option for Lothíriel's husband and in a way, it explained Imrahil's first reaction to the young king's request to be allowed to court her.

"In that case, we can't do much else than wait for him. It is useless to plan ahead without Faramir's knowledge and whatever he is able to find out. Let us now make sure that the guests can cross the river in peace", Aragorn commented. He cast a mildly apologetic look at Imrahil, "Forgive me for saying this, my friend, but there is a boon in your daughter's misfortune. If she and the young lord had not come across the orcs, then we might have never known they were there. If there is indeed some force gathering near Ithilien, they might have come howling down the mountain and surprised us all, even destroyed everything Éowyn and Faramir have built here so far. But now we have a chance to prepare."

Imrahil was frowning. His shoulders slumped momentarily, as if the weight of his worry was too much to bear in that moment.

"Let us hope her life is not the price we are going to have to pay for that warning", he said quietly.

No one seemed to know what to say to that. Erchirion's face became grim and he muttered needed to get back to the woods, if there were no more questions for him. The rest of the company dispersed, but Éomer lingered at Aragorn's side.

"What will you do with Aegdir?" he asked his friend.

"I have some thoughts, but it depends on her as well", Aragorn replied. He didn't need to say the obvious. He continued, "Either way, the boy is the last scion of an old, great line, and we lost enough as it was in the War of the Ring."

Éomer sighed. Aegdir was also the only surviving son of Forlong, who had given his life to defend Gondor.

"The boy seems to regret what he did. I... I'm not as angry with him as I was before."

Aragorn raised a quizzical brow.

"How is that?"

"I was a bit like him, once. Foolish and young and so sure of myself. In some ways I was worse, because I was also full of anger and I had the means to take it out on others. It's not his fault he did not have teachers like I did. He had no Théoden to set him straight", Éomer explained slowly. But then he frowned and added in a low voice, "Yet if I never see the lad again, I shall not complain. I hope you give him a lesson he won't forget."

His friend gave him a wry smile.

"I believe I do have a job in mind that he will find most unpleasant. I need to send an ambassador to Laketown in the North, and who better for it than the lord of Lossarnarch himself?" Aragorn said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Ah, yes. Exile from the amusements of the White City and the comfortable luxury of Lossarnarch, its mild and pleasant climate, and sunlit fields and woods. Laketown was said to be cold, damp, downcast for most of the year and generally unpleasant even in summer. The local folk could be no less troublesome than their kin the Rohirrim, and rumours had it they were even more wary of strangers than Eorlingas had been during the dark days of war. It was not going to be a stroll in the garden. For Aegdir, who had grown up in all the comforts available to the high nobility of Gondor, it would be a punishment indeed; the journey alone would be supremely unpleasant, even if the road North was safer than before. However, it would also grow his backbone and do him a world of good. If the lad committed to it and accepted the job as a penance he had fully deserved, he might at last become a man in his own right. Perhaps he would even find a nice Northern girl who would teach him a thing or two.

Éomer couldn't help but smile.

"Remind me to never cross you, my friend."

Aragorn smiled as well, reaching to rest his hand on the Rohir's shoulder.

"You have grown, Éomundson. You're not that same reckless young Rider I met on the fields of Rohan. And I am eager to see what you will make of yourself."

The brief satisfaction Éomer felt over the words exchanged with Aragorn vanished as soon as he entered the infirmary.

Lothíriel had taken a turn for the worse.

The sight that greeted him there was burned into his memory with agonising clarity. She was still and quiet and her face was sallow, as if all life had left her in just the short time he had been away. Imrahil was leaning over her, but Éowyn sat on the edge of the bed and was trying to shake her awake. Amrothos was not present.

"Lothíriel, sweetheart, I need you to wake up. Wake up now!" Éowyn was calling to her, hands moving from her good shoulder to cradle her face.

"What's going on?" Éomer demanded to know, rushing to the bed. In a single, violent shift, his heart seemed to fall like stone into the bottom of his stomach.

"She was saying she felt tired, and then just passed out. Aragorn, I need your help!" Éowyn answered quickly. Aragorn moved swiftly past them, joining Éowyn's side. Carefully he lifted Lothíriel's upper body, so that Éowyn was able to pull the robe away and undo the wrappings around the wound. Éomer and Imrahil waited in painful silence.

"She has a fever, but is it because of poison?" Éowyn asked Aragorn while her fingers quickly worked at the wrappings.

"If it's poison, it's nothing I am familiar with – or the antidote was too late", he replied. With one arm, he supported his patient's limp body and with his other hand, he was pulling back her eyelids to check the pupils. Poisons were vicious and subtle, and Éomer had seen strong warriors go down after a short and agonising battle. Silently, he stared at her and thought in growing horror of the slow, creeping menace that now threatened the life of his beloved. What had she done to deserve this nightmare? If something happened to her – if she wouldn't be able to pull through this... no, it was unthinkable. It could not happen. There was something lodged in his throat, but he wasn't sure if it was a scream, or inconsolable tears.

The only thing he could do was to look at his sister with pleading eyes. She met his gaze, troubled and anxious, unable to give him the reassurance he wanted. Then she looked away. Was it guilt he saw flickering in her eyes in the brief moment before she turned back to the young woman laying in the bed? Then he understood: Éowyn knew he had been in circumstances like this before, and perhaps only now realised what it was like.

"What can be done?" Imrahil wanted to know.

"Not much more, I'm afraid. There are some medicines that may help with the fever, but I cannot guarantee anything."

"Will she live?" asked Éomer.

The voice that came out of his mouth did not sound like his own at all. Perhaps his sister and his friends noticed that too, for they all turned to look at him.

"That depends on her now, brother", Éowyn said gently, but from her expression he saw that she knew how little her words comforted him.

The Prince laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Come along, my friend. Perhaps we should go and get some fresh air. We won't help her like this", he said in soft tones. There was something very parental about the way he spoke. No wonder, though. He had fathered four children and sometimes in this company of friends, where everyone had seen family and loved ones die, it was Imrahil who took them all under his wing.

So Éomer quietly followed his friend out, feeling a bit like a child who is being led by the hand in a dark room. He knew there was nothing he could do to help her, and yet it felt wrong to leave her side.

They did not speak as they walked. Wisely, Imrahil took them through the servants' corridors. Neither were in a mood to answer curious questions, which should surely descend on them if they joined the other guests. The kitchens had their own little courtyard, where prying looks did not reach. Éowyn and Faramir's own folk were subtle and tactful, and if any eyes lingered on the two men for longer than a glance, it was with compassion.

There was a long, wooden bench by the wall near the kitchen entrance. Doubtless cooks and maids sat there often, gossiping while going over menial tasks like peeling potatoes or plucking chickens for preparing dinner, or lighting a pipe after a long day's work. It was a pleasant, sunny spot and there the two men sat down, speaking no word but still feeling a silent companionship in their mutual worry and love for her.

Resting elbows on his knees, Éomer stared at his hands and thought of everything and nothing. Last night, he had danced with her. How quickly things could change! Only this morning, he had been full of plans and hope and joy. Before nightfall, it all could be lost.

He was thankful that Imrahil said nothing, not even to reassure him. For his part, what could he tell his friend? He had seen what the loss of a child could do to a parent. Sometimes he wondered if Théoden had ridden to that dreadful fate mainly because of Théodred. And Lothíriel was cherished and beloved, still in the spring of her life. Her death was unthinkable.

So they sat for a while, both lost in his thoughts. There was kind of a comfort in it, as there was in the life that continued to bustle around them unfazed. Water still needed to be drawn, fires kindled, animals tended to and the house managed.

He let out a trembling breath. When did his throat get so tight? And where had this burn in his eyes come from?

Éomer buried his face in his hands. Oh, Béma. He could take nearly anything, face almost any horror, except for this one. Why did it have to be this particular nightmare?

Éowyn, pale and still and broken in that bed in the Houses of Healing, only a breath away from death.

Mother, giving up on life and succumbing to the illness, ending her son's childhood in one single night.

I can't do this again.

Imrahil put his hand on his shoulder.

When evening came at last, it felt like the day had been much longer than it actually was. No more news came from Faramir and a quiet, expecting mood fell upon the manor house. There was foreboding in it and a watchful vigilance, although nobody expected an imminent attack. Last of the guests had departed, leaving only the company of the King of Rohan and Aegdir, who was currently in house arrest by Aragorn's command.

Éomer remained by Lothíriel's side.

She had not returned to the waking world and her fever was still high. Éowyn and Aragorn had done what they could, but from all their words, it was clear the rest depended on the young woman herself. And so through the day, the King of Rohan and Prince of Dol Amroth kept their vigil by her side, hoping for a turn for the better. They spoke little and eventually even Éowyn gave up the attempt of cheering them up.

In some ways, this reminded Éomer of the few last days of his mother's life; she had fallen into a death-like sleep, withering away with a terrifying inevitability. She had woken only once in the final hour before her passing, and he could still remember the look in her feverish eyes as she hoarsely whispered to him: "I go now to your father. Be fearless."

He had tried to live by her last command, but tonight, his heart was full of terror.

The house quieted slowly and shadows grew longer. Imrahil nodded off in his chair, until Éowyn finally persuaded him to lay down in a free bed. He did so grudgingly, and only after Éomer too had reassured him that he would stay up to watch over Lothíriel. His sister seemed to understand it was a fool's errand to try to tell him to get some rest.

Amrothos, hearing of his sister's predicament, had at first wanted to go and murder Aegdir with his bare hands. Imrahil was able to calm him down, but after his outburst the young lord was grim and resolute, his mood darker than Éomer had ever seen him before. Not even during the march to the Black Gate had Imrahil's youngest son showed such a mood. Amrothos had then taken up his armour and sword and joined the patrols in the woods, and presumably he was still out there. Whereas Aragorn had gone to spend some time with Arwen, and even Éowyn finally left to catch a few hours of sleep, although she promised to come and check on the patient some time during the night.

At last, it was just the King of Rohan alone by the flickering light of a candle. He sat quietly next to the bed of his beloved and occasionally wetted her lips with some water. Her sleep seemed lighter and more restless now, but he wasn't sure if this was a hopeful sign or not. Sometimes, he tried calling her name, but she didn't respond.

Close to midnight, she settled down once again, She looked so still, he almost checked her pulse. But her chest rose and fell slowly and he realised his eyes were playing tricks on him. Either way, he still felt this weight in his chest and it seemed to grow heavier with each hour that passed without her waking.

Carefully, Éomer moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, holding her hand inside his and gently brushing hair from her face. Her look was deceptively peaceful, as if she were just having some deep, pleasant dream. His heart was full and it ached something awful, and he was so scared. He didn't know whether she could hear him or not, but there were just some things he needed to say out loud no matter what. Was it for her sake, or his own? He didn't know.

"You know", he started softly, "I never thought I would meet and fall in love with somebody like you. Least of all here in Gondor... I suppose I had my prejudices about the women of this land, though perhaps it is my own fault for not making the effort to get to know them. Even so, I can't say love was something I wanted or often considered before. It didn't seem important, and how could I possibly expect to be as lucky as my friends have been? Not that I would have had much time for it before or during the war... but now you are here, and you have changed everything. Do you understand what that means to me?"

She didn't answer, of course, and so he continued.

"I'm tired of being alone, Lothíriel. I don't want to be the one left behind anymore. And I wonder if you feel the same. I think maybe you know what it's like to be by yourself. This is what I've liked from the start: we understand each other. It doesn't matter that our lives until now have been so different, because in the truly important things, your mind is like mine. I feel it just looking at you. It's like you already know me better than I do. After all this time, it is hard to believe I could have that with someone, and I cannot bear the idea that I may have to give it up again", he told her, leaning closer as his voice became barely more than a whisper.

"This can't be the end. There's so much I want to show you and to explore with you. So many things I want to tell you... for you are not just the woman I want to marry, you are also my friend. Maybe the best one I've ever had. Do you think that's strange? We've known each other for such a short while, but something in me recognises you, and wants you, and would turn to you even if there was the whole of world between us. I feel this in my bones, Lothíriel. So do you see why I need you to come back to me?"

Gently he cradled her face between his hands and bowed down to kiss her brow. Her skin was damp and hot, but this was Lothíriel. His Flower-garlanded Maiden.

Resting his forehead against hers, he repeated the words, imploring: "Come back to me."

To be continued.

A/N: I hope you like this new chapter. It is heavy in Éomer's POV, but he had a lot of stuff to say and at any rate, the issues I wanted to explore required his perspective. I personally felt it was intriguing he found something familiar in Aegdir: being someone who is pushed into a role they didn't want, and how they deal with it. Like Éomer rightly notes, he had the guidance of his cousin and uncle, and was better prepared thanks to their help. To me, it seemed exceedingly fitting that Aragorn had such a fitting punishment in mind.

The idea of the increased orc activity - and its more dire implications - did not develop at first, but when it did, I realised its potential. But more on that later.

As for Lothíriel's current predicament... if I want Éomer languishing at her bedside, I will bloody well have him do just that! ;)

Thank you for reading and reviewing! Stay safe out there, and don't forget about Ukraine. Don't forget to love one another!

Inspiration for the chapter:

Hans Zimmer – A Small Measure of Peace

mystarlight - Thank you!

LH Wordsmith - Thanks! I will have to check out your stories. :) I think the highest, or at lest the most flattering praise a writer can get is that somebody else was inspired by their writing to try it themselves. So I wish you the best of luck! With Éomer and Lothíriel, there are so many ways it could have happened.

EStrunk -She was okay for a time! I am glad to hear you liked their conversation - it is one of my favourite things about the last chapter. In general there is something very satisfactory about two characters, who have previously disagreed, finding a new common ground.

Also glad to hear you noticed that parallel!

Cathael - I hope you liked the conversation with Aegdir! As for Éomer and Lothíriel, that heart attack may yet be closer than they hoped... ;)

Cricket22 - Many thanks for your review! I am glad to hear last chapter managed to bring some light to characters and their thoughts.

I liked the part about Éomer and Imrahil, too! It did feel good to bring them to the same page. Also I wonder if this would rather satisfy you about Éomer fussing around Lothíriel and worrying for her!

I think this chapter will answer some of your questions. Amrothos is agreeable with the idea of his sister marrying Éomer, but Erchirion is a little bit more confounded. As for the orc problem - it seems to be larger than anyone expected, and I already have some interesting ideas about that. Especially in what it means for our lovebirds!

Wondereye - Glad to hear it!

pasonder67 - Hope you like this update!

PilotDante - Thank you!