Chapter 5

Evening came at last, bringing to a close a day that had been quite eventful and surprising. Lothíriel felt unusually tired, as if all the emotional moments and encounters were taking an additional toll on her.

As she sat in her chamber brushing her hair, she considered it all once more. Some of her thoughts were given to Lord Aegdir, and how vexed he had seemed when she hadn't joined him at once for reading; it had taken Amrothos to seek her out in her chambers. Lothíriel had at that point completely forgotten about her promise to spend time with the young lord and felt embarrassed to be caught daydreaming. Thankfully, the young lord was quick to forgive her and the rest of the afternoon and evening had gone by without other wrinkles, and even King Éomer had seemed less irritable at dinner. A few times their eyes had met and she had known that he understood her position now, and was not as impatient as at lunch. Some secret smiles were shared between them, although they didn't speak again that day.

She quietly thought of these two men and how with one, even silence could be meaningful, and understanding could be shared without words. The other... well, things were hardly so easy or simple. She knew what her father expected of her. She didn't want to disappoint him, and how could she, if uniting with Lord Aegdir was indeed what was best for her family and House?

Her musings were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Then without waiting for an answer, Amrothos stepped inside. Wryly she thought of having to set him up some time, perhaps ask some male she knew – King Éomer maybe – to appear in her room just partially dressed. Then again, if her brother was armed, he might run the poor man through with his sword before asking any questions. She would have to come up with a better way to punish him for continually ignoring good manners.

"What do you want, Amrothos?" she asked him, raising her brow. "Don't you have some friends out there waiting for you to come and get drunk with them?"

"There are, and I will, but I wanted to talk to you first", he replied, plopping himself down on the bed. She looked at him expectantly and thankfully, he didn't keep her waiting for long. He said, "I was just wondering what is Lord Aegdir doing here and why does he look like he wants to chain himself to you?"

She snorted – a very unladylike sound, but her brother did not deserve her better manners.

"You and your choice of words", she muttered, shaking her head. "Lord Aegdir is here because Father invited him. He has asked to court me."

Amrothos' eyes widened.

"Truly? You aren't jesting?"

"I don't know why I would be, since it's not particularly funny."

"Well, I think it's ridiculous. He's obviously very unsuitable for you. Or, you are too competent for him. You could do much better than Aegdir", he sniffed.

"I don't know if you have noticed, but there aren't many great lords available. If I just sit waiting for a grand enough man, I will grow old before he comes along", she pointed out.

"That doesn't change the truth, does it?" he shot back.

"Either way, how would you know that he's unsuitable?" she asked him.

"Pure instinct. Sometimes, you just know. I've met him a few times in Minas Tirith and there's something in his air that makes me doubt. He's pleasant enough company, if a bit pompous, but I wouldn't want him to be your husband", he answered and made a face, as if the idea of Lord Aegdir joining their family was most distasteful for him.

"Father seems to disagree."

"Of course he does. He was very fond of poor old Forlong. He's probably pushing this union more for his sake than anything else and I suppose he feels it's his duty to his late friend. Father is usually sharp as a knife but even he has his blind spots", Amrothos commented, leaning back against his elbow.

"Then what would you have me do?" Lothíriel asked him. It was odd, to be asking the least serious of her brothers for advice. But she already knew what Elphir and Erchirion would answer.

"Look, sister, you don't need my advice. Among our family, you are probably the most sound of mind and judgment", he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"That's not useful at all, brother", she complained.

"Well, you're the one who insisted on asking me of all people", Amrothos said, sounding irritatingly cheerful. She made a face at him, which was also completely unladylike, but he had a way of bringing out the most improper reactions.

"Be serious for once. Do you think it's my duty to accept Lord Aegdir?" she asked.

"Duty can be a funny thing, sister. The obvious course of action isn't always the best. And Lord Aegdir is not the only man around", Amrothos said, and she could have sworn his face was sly and suggestive.

"Maybe, but he's the one who has asked to court me."

"Then at least he knows what's good for him."

Damn Amrothos and his supremely unhelpful advice!

After dinner, Imrahil's sons asked Éomer and few other of his Knights to join them for drinks, although Amrothos was curiously absent: he was usually the one gathering these parties together and somehow providing them with casks of ale or wine (which he had probably stolen for the occasion).

Éothain and the Knights of the King's Guard were eager to join the Amrothians, laughing and jesting as if they were still back at the Fields of Cormallen. But Éomer's mood was more quiet and pensive. It took conscious effort to fully take part in the merrymaking, and he was early to retire, though it caused many protests in his friends – Amrothos, too, who had eventually shown up (though he wouldn't say what had kept him).

He didn't go straight to bed, though, but opened his window, and there sat on the window board, one knee propped up before him, and gazing up into the starlit sky. He thought of his life before and today's events, and what to make of it all.

Was it, indeed, the beginnings of love what he had for this young lady of the south? He had learnt to regard that word with wariness, at least when it came to people who were not his family. He had had lovers in his time, but it was always mutually agreed that it wouldn't be a lasting arrangement. He had known infatuation, though, and there had actually been a moment or two when he had thought he might end up married after all, but nothing came out of it in the end. One, at the time he had not been emotionally available which his lovers always found out sooner or later, and which meant the relationship was doomed to fail. Second, deep down he had known that his uncle would not allow him to marry just anywhere. His bride would at least have to be nobility. He supposed he might now try to elevate some scullery maid, as some apparently believed he would, but instead of Théoden it was going to be his advisers who would put up a fight. Their expectations were most likely even higher than his uncle's, because Théoden at least had given some thought to his family's happiness.

Maybe it was too soon to be thinking of love, or even infatuation. He had only just met Lady Lothíriel. Even so, he couldn't deny that something about her had seized him. He had opened up to her more in just two days than he usually did even for his friends, and it was definitely annoying that there was competition for her time and attention. It was all very bewildering and perhaps for the time being, it was enough that it was easy to talk to her, that she understood duty like he did, and she was able and competent. The rest... well, he would figure it out.

Either way, whatever his feelings were, he would have to make his move, and do it soon. He needed to speak to Imrahil. Otherwise, this chance would slip by his fingers and he would find Lady Lothíriel married to that boy. The mere idea was repulsive.

Éomer sighed and leant his head back against the window frame. The night was rather beautiful and the air was mild, and he even felt momentarily tempted to go out for a walk. But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the faint voice of someone singing softly nearby. Craning his neck outside, he quickly located the source of the sound: it was two windows away from his. It was a female voice, sweet and melodious, and he thought whoever she was, she had got some training. She was singing a ballad that was familiar to him (thanks to Amrothos of all people, although he was sure that Imrahil's son had reinvented at least one stanza). The song told of a great sea captain who was cursed to never step on the land again, and his lament of being parted from his bride, who still waited faithfully for his return. The chorus was meant to be sung by them both, and so when the unseen singer reached that part, Éomer spontaneously filled in for the captain.

There was surprise in her voice and it faltered momentarily, but she was quick to regain her confidence again, and their voices rose together – hers high and clear, his deep and rumbling. He liked how their voices complemented one another, and was sad that he couldn't remember much more than the chorus. He didn't think Amrothos' version would much please his singing companion.

She reached the end of the song and silence fell in the garden. Éomer's next thought was to call out to her, but there was a knock at his door. He groaned. Why couldn't they have waited for just five minutes?!

He was prepared to be snappish, but when he met Faramir at his door and saw his brother-in-law's concerned look, his short temper immediately seemed uncalled-for and rude.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, at once dreading that something was wrong with Éowyn.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this time, my friend", said Faramir quickly, "but more orcs have been seen in the woods near the place you fought them the other day. This activity troubles me greatly and I am leaving with my Rangers to investigate it as soon as possible. I thought you should know."

Faramir's words sent a jolt of alarm through the young king. Old instincts kicked in straight away and he felt like something in him, parts that had lain sleeping for many long months, startled awake. This was familiar. How many times had calls of aid come to Aldburg, summoning him to war?

"Do you need my help? I could come along with my Riders."

"I won't deny that your presence would be appreciated, but you are a guest here, and I don't want to -"

Éomer didn't let him finish.

"Think nothing of it. If there is a threat against your home, then it concerns me indeed."

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. We are family, are we not?"

Faramir looked relieved.

"Thank you. This activity troubles me, but not as much as it might while you and your Riders are with us", he said, smiling slightly.

"Have you spoken to Aragorn yet?" Éomer asked.

"Not yet. I'll bother him with this when I know more. He doesn't like leaving Arwen at this time, and he'd just worry needlessly", Faramir explained, and the young king nodded in understanding.

He thought of Imrahil, too. There was no telling how long this would take, and in his absence, things might go forward in an unwanted way. However, he couldn't just go to Imrahil in haste, announce his wish to court the lady, and then rush out. It was something he couldn't discuss in while his time was already in high demand. For all he knew, Imrahil could take offense and make sure that his daughter was quickly married off, to keep her safe from impatient and coarse suitors.

It was frustrating beyond belief, but what choice did he have?

"Shall we go, then? I will have to rouse my men. Let's hope at least Éothain isn't too drunk yet – Imrahil's sons were in a carousing mood, and you are lucky that I retired early", said Éomer and they headed down the corridor. Only for a moment did he allow himself to feel disappointed and dismayed over the fact that he didn't know how long this patrol would take – and how much time he would thus be giving to Lord Aegdir to work his charms on Lady Lothíriel. But it couldn't be helped. Faramir needed his aid and he could not refuse it.

She would understand. The lady knew duty like he did and she would think less of him if he stayed behind because of her.

So he followed his brother-in-law outside, turning his thoughts to battle and toil, but at the back of his mind the soft tune and the sweet voice of the unseen singer still echoed.

When morning came, the song was still in Lothíriel's head.

Last night she had not been able to sleep even despite her tiredness, and so she had opened her window and sat a while watching the stars. Thinking no one was listening, she had raised her voice in song; it was a famous ballad from Dol Amroth, telling the story of a cursed sea captain and his bride. But to her surprise, a male voice joined her in the chorus, filling the captain's parts which she could not sing. She couldn't see him, but his voice was deep and melodious, and so familiar. His voice was not unused to singing, but had a quality which revealed practice and some understanding of technique.

But the song ended and he fell silent, and she listened to the quiet night, waiting and hoping for him to call out to her. Moments passed and no sound could be heard again.

"Sir?" she uttered, little more than a whisper, but he should be near enough to hear her.

No answer. Her heart fell. Maybe he had already gone, or had got second thoughts about revealing himself. She hadn't imagined it, though, had she? Yet who would just sing like that, not knowing who their partner was?

As she prepared for breakfast, she wondered about the identity of her singing companion. Obviously, it was not anyone in her family, and Faramir and King Elessar were not likely either. That left at least two men, or else it was someone in the household, a servant or a guard. She knew what she hoped, but was that even likely? How would he know songs from her home region? The singer's voice was not unpractised and he had understanding of tune and pitch, but whether he had such abilities, she couldn't tell.

Yet maybe there was a chance it was him indeed. His people were famous for their songs, and only yesterday, Éowyn had told her how Rohirrim were always singing.

Lothíriel felt hopeful as she made her way downstairs and entered the dining hall. Quickly she swept her gaze across the room and did not see King Éomer there. Faramir was missing, too, although both men were early birds.

Éowyn was present, however. As Lothíriel took a seat at the table, she asked her new friend as nonchalantly as she could: "Is Faramir not joining us this morning? And what about your brother the King?"

The Lady of Emyn Arnen, who normally was in such good cheer, did not seem quite as high-spirited today. The reason for that was swiftly revealed.

"I'm afraid they won't be with us this morning. A scout returned last night, reporting renewed orc activity in the woods. Faramir and Éomer set out late last night to track them down", she explained.

"Oh", said Lothíriel, hiding her frown, and then seeing her friend's expression, she hurriedly added, "I'm sure they will be all right."

"Yes, they are both very capable", Éowyn said. It sounded like she was mostly reassuring herself.

Lothíriel lowered her eyes and busied herself with spreading some freshly churned butter on her still warm roll. But her mind was busy, thinking again of last night and her impromptu duet with the mysterious singer. It wasn't King Éomer, then: he was probably gone already by the time she had started singing. Lord Aegdir, on the other hand – he had told her about his education in arts, which she knew included music lessons. Even her brothers, although they had been brought up as warriors first and foremost, had received some instruction in music. Aegdir would know songs from Dol Amroth, especially popular ballads such as the one she had sung. It had to be him.

Lothíriel was a little bit disappointed at first, but then she thought of how silly that was. And wasn't this a good thing? It meant Aegdir had straightforwardness and sensitivity in him, after all. These were qualities she appreciated, meaning her duty might not be as difficult to fulfil as she had first thought.

As if her musings had summoned him, the young lord came to join the party at breakfast. He smiled brightly when he saw her and came straight to sit next to her. Around him was the smell of soap, some herbs and a citrusy undertone.

"Good morning, my lady. Lovely day, isn't it?" he spoke cheerfully.

"Good morning, my lord. Yes, it is a fine morning", she agreed. She glanced at him discreetly from the corner of her eye, trying to decide how to ask him. But at the same time, she felt impatient and painfully curious. So the words escaped her mouth with less than her usual deliberation, "My lord, I was wondering... it was you singing with me last night, wasn't it?"

He shifted sharply next to her and with a barest look at him, she saw his eyes were wide.

"Why do you think that, my lady?" he asked warily.

"It just seems like the most possible answer, unless it was somebody from the household. In that case, please forgive me for assuming. I just thought the other singer had such a lovely voice, and I enjoyed the song very much", she said quickly, feeling her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.

"No, please don't apologise. Not after giving me the gift of your song", he said, moving his hand as if wishing to clasp hers, and then pulling it back again. "It was me, my lady. And I'm very glad to hear that you were my partner; I have pondered this mystery since last night and I can't tell you how happy it makes me to find out your part in it."

She relaxed and smiled at last. She wasn't as happy as she might have felt, if the partner had been the other man, but this was not a bad thing, either. And her personal happiness had never been the point.

"Perhaps we could sing and play again some time?" she offered. Her love of music did not go beyond the usual, but through it, she had felt the first instance of truly connecting with this young lord. If it could be used to find common ground, she might find all this easier.

"Of course, though your voice is far more beautiful. Maybe I could take my harp and accompany you?" he said pleasantly, giving her a winning smile.

"That sounds lovely, my lord", she replied.

It was an uneasy thing, reconciling her expectations, her rebellious heart, with what duty would have of her. Yet what could she do? As long as the other one did not make his move, she did not know how she could choose otherwise. But now he wasn't even here to say one way or the other. Nor did she expect him to be, if Faramir had asked for his help; she felt clearly it would have surprised and saddened her if he had stayed behind in spite of her cousin's need. Still, it might have been nice if he had somehow told her before he left. However, if the message had come urgently, then how could he have let her know? He couldn't barge into her private chamber late at night.

But now Lord Aegdir was speaking again, talking about music and how much he loved it. And here she was, thinking about the one who wasn't even present!

That, she knew already, was not a good sign at all. But maybe she wasn't being fair. Had she really given him a chance so far? She had been so wrapped up with another man and her own misgivings, which in fact were no better than the complaints of a petulant child.

"My lord, I was thinking of going for a walk to see the river again. Would you like to join me?" she asked him now.

His smile was bright and glad.

"With pleasure, my lady. I've been wanting to walk there", he answered readily, and so after breakfast they strolled side by side through the gates of the manor house. The inevitable guards followed the two, but Aegdir ignored them with the bored routine of a nobleman who has grown up surrounded by servants and men at arms. A treacherous little voice at the back of her head pointed out it was very different compared to the easy way King Éomer acted with his Riders, but then she reminded herself that the Lord of Rohan had fought many battles with his men, bled and fought in their company, and that defying death in such a way was wont to forge ties of camaraderie in a very special way. Aegdir had always been kept safe and sound to ensure that at least one son of Forlong's line lived. It wasn't his fault that he had been, in many ways, as sheltered as she.

"It is very beautiful here in Ithilien", she said at last, because he had fallen unusually silent, and she wasn't going to learn about his character without talking.

"I suppose. I don't much care for it, though. Once you have seen the flowers of Lossarnarch in summer and the green vales full of sweet music, other lands pale in comparison", he replied.

She knew from their earlier talks that he had spent most of his life in Lossarnarch, and visited only Minas Tirith before now. As for her, she too had stayed a while in the White City, journeyed to many places in Belfalas and seen the Elven towers of Edhellond. Compared to him, she was quite the traveller. In her view, one should see at least something of the world before dismissing the beauty of all other lands.

"I think there is virtue in all the goodly places of this world, though you may not see it straight away. As for one's home, it will always be special in a way other places are not, but I wonder if people love their homes because it is beautiful, or is it beautiful because they love it?" she said slowly. From the corner of her eye, she saw his nonplussed expression. But to his credit, he was quick to respond.

"Wise words, my lady. But perhaps you may visit my home some time, so that you can decide for yourself? With the permission of your father, of course, and with one of your brothers to accompany you", he offered.

"Thank you, my lord, I would be pleased. Although I'm not sure if Father can spare my brothers; they seem to be busy as badgers these days", she said.

"Of course. They are the lucky ones, aren't they? Our part always seems to be useless", Aegdir said, and she could tell he was attempting to find common ground in this; both of them were the youngest of the family. Lothíriel almost frowned but was able to mask her reaction. She had never felt useless, there were always things to do in Dol Amroth, even if she wasn't acting as her father's substitute. A household like Prince Imrahil's did not run itself and the women of his family had always held active roles there, whether it be directing the staff, meeting with the city's merchants and craftsmen, or hosting the small court where nobles of Belfalas were always coming and going. Often their sons and daughters came to be fostered under Father's wing and to learn the necessary skills and knowledge of noble houses of Gondor. Some stayed only for a time, but others lingered for many years, finding employment under the Prince's rule; these young nobles needed lodgings and care and education, and much of it fell on the women of the Prince's family. Dol Amroth was the centre of all society in Dor-en-Ernil and it had not lost its importance as the heart of the region even though the King had returned and the social life of Minas Tirith was revived. But Aegdir had no sisters and his mother had died years ago, and the court of the Lord Lossarnarch was not quite like that of the Prince of Dol Amroth. Aegdir couldn't know even half the things that she did. But Father had said she had much to teach this young man, hadn't he?

"Not useless. Just different", she said softly, gazing down.

Aegdir appeared to realise his blunder.

"Forgive me. My choice of words was not good, my lady", he said and she nodded as a sign that she was not offended. Either way, she felt confused: was this truly the man who had sung with her last night?

There was a silence between them, and she was feeling less encouraged to speak, but apparently his little mistake had startled Aegdir and he felt like he needed to make up for it quickly.

"My lady, let me be frank with you. I expect your lord father has told you why I am here at this time. I was hoping to meet you, and with your permission, to court you. You know my circumstances. My father and brother are gone, and it's up to me now to carry on and preserve their legacy. And eventually, I must marry", he said, sighing out loud and giving her a pained smile. "I had meant to be more eloquent about this, my lady. I know it sounds terribly formal and unfeeling, but it's such a burden, and you seem like a woman of keen understanding. You are not fooled by sweet talk, that much I can tell. Still, I believe there is much that connects us. We are both children of great lords, and we share the same sense of obligation, same traditions. We know what it's like to grow up as the youngest of a mighty House. We remember the war and it has laid waste around us both. I think there is a very good chance that we could make an excellent match, my lady."

He fell silent, seemingly to catch his breath, and Lothíriel remained silent – too taken aback by this sudden out-pour to know what to say. Gently, Aegdir picked up her hand and held it inside his own. It was not as soft and delicate as one might have expected: she could feel some wear and use from his pursuit of hunting and sports. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but then she realised this was because it reminded her, a little bit, of another man's hands.

"I do now know whether you expect affection and attraction in your marriage, my lady. I won't pretend to think I have caught yours; it is clear you're not a woman who would give those to just anybody. But I do believe that both may come in time, if we give it a chance."

It took her a moment to take in all that he was saying. She couldn't deny she appreciated the straightforward way he explained his position. Until now, he had spent too much time trying to charm her with pleasantries.

But Aegdir was eagerly waiting for an answer, and she cleared her throat. She met his eyes, so similar to her own.

"Thank you for speaking to me with honesty, my lord. My father has indeed proclaimed your intentions to me, but it's good to hear your thoughts from your own mouth", she said slowly and soberly. "Your offer for my hand is indeed a great honour, and I know you must be anxious for an answer. But I ask you to be patient, Lord Aegdir. Until your arrival, I wasn't aware that my father was in talks for my future, and the thought of leaving my home takes some getting used to. I can't make my choice hastily, which I hope you will understand."

"I do understand it, my lady. Take as much time as you need. It is an important decision, and a lady as fair and high-born as you are will not lack in excellent alternatives", he replied, and she momentarily felt like he was implying something, but was not sure what it was.

"Thank you for your discretion, my lord. It is much appreciated", she said anyway.

They had reached the river, which flowed tranquilly, forever reaching for the sea. It was a warm and beautiful day again and Lothíriel was reminded of the last time she had been here – which seemed now to have happened weeks ago, although it was only yesterday. She cast a tentative look at Aegdir, and made her next question partly because sitting with her feet in the water had been so nice, and partly because she now realised this whole talk she had been gauging his character and responses in comparison to the one who was not here. Deep down she knew it was neither wise or fair, but what could one do except compare all other lights to the Sun?

"I was wondering... might we sit down by the river for a while?" she asked him carefully.

His eyebrows almost seemed to jump on his face and he looked positively scandalised.

"I would rather not. It doesn't seem safe, for the stream is strong. And I'm not sure the water is quite clean", he replied, casting a suspicious look at the river.

"Of course. How foolish of me", she said, lowering her eyes, and decided not to tell him how she had sat there with the King of Rohan himself only yesterday. She should have guessed that Aegdir was not the kind of man who spontaneously sat down to enjoy small pleasures like sunlight and cool water. His taste was more... she hesitated to call it refined or sophisticated, because those words somehow implied in her ear superiority, but now she wasn't so sure that not finding enjoyment in small things was in some way better.

"You enjoy water, don't you, my lady?" he asked, clearly attempting to redirect the conversation. Maybe he had sensed his answer had not the best impact on her.

"I am of Dol Amroth, my lord", she said as a self-explanatory statement. "It is in our blood."

"So it is famously said. It's a pity Lossarnarch can't boast such waters, unless you count Anduin, but my home is not close to it. But at least we have many charming little streams and forest pools, even near the ancient seat of my family. I used to go there with my mother when I was a boy", he said warmly. She knew he too had lost his mother when he was young and a pang of sympathy went through her. Such memories were indeed precious and golden.

"It sounds lovely, my lord", she replied, feeling a little easier once more. "It is true nothing else is quite like the sea, but I find water is a calming element wherever it is, and however small its flow."

"I understand what you mean, my lady. But even so, I am eager to visit Dol Amroth and the sea. I've been planning a trip for some time now, but something always forces me to postpone it. Lossarnarch has been in uproar since my father died", he explained.

"Of course. You have had much to learn and to get used to, my lord. But you are welcome to visit us when you can. I know Father would be delighted", she replied, gazing ahead to where the river bended and disappeared behind a multitude of great trees.

"And you, my lady?" he asked her, making her startle a little bit. Warmth rushed up her neck and she lowered her eyes; again he realised he had overstepped, and was quick to back down. "Do forgive me. I know I am asking too much too soon. But the truth is, I'm sick and tired of things as they are, and I wish to move forward with my life. A position such as mine can be lonely, and it's a hard burden to bear. I don't know how my father could stand it after my mother died."

She relented once more, reminding herself she needed to be more understanding of him. Although he carried himself with an air of good cheer and easiness, this was a difficult time for him as well. She couldn't blame him for feeling impatient to start building his life again – or wishing for a companion to share the load.

"It is all right. I know you don't speak with ill intentions", she said, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

"Thank you, my lady. Your father praised your understanding and capacity for compassion, but I never guessed just how true his words were. I have not met your like in all of Gondor", said Aegdir, casting her a bright, admiring look.

"You're too kind. I'm not sure I deserve such praise, my lord. My father means well but he thinks I am better than is truthful. He seems to be blind to his children's flaws and mistakes", she said, folding her hands inside her light, long sleeves.

"Fathers can be that way. I know mine favoured my brother above all, but I was less to his high standards. I wonder if he is now turning in his grave, knowing that his great legacy has gone to his lesser son", said Aegdir with surprising bitterness in his tone. She glanced at him in wonder. Not once had she thought that this too was a burden that he was carrying.

"I'm sorry to hear it, my lord. My father never said anything of you not getting along with your sire", she said carefully. In fact, after all the way she had heard him praising late Forlong, it was hard to imagine that the man so brave and decent had not been a good father to his younger son.

"Nor would he, I imagine. Prince Imrahil and my father were old friends and memory grows fond when a treasured companion passes away in what seems to be before his time. I don't expect they knew each other as parents and heads of their families. Mind you, my father did not treat me badly or abuse me – he just didn't care as much about me as he did about his heir."

"Still, it sounds dreadful. It must be a difficult thing to grow up with. Faramir once said that nobody has as much power to hurt us as the people who are supposed to love us the best", she conceded gently.

"How truly he spoke, my lady. You and him are much alike, I find", Aegdir commented, walking a bit closer to her than before. They had now made quite a way from the manor house, and should probably start thinking of turning back again.

"I don't know about that. I don't have half of Faramir's wisdom or experience, although he is a person anyone may look up to as an example", she replied moderately.

"Be that as it may, I must say there are many people who don't have even half of yours, my lady", he said, nodding his head emphatically.

After that, their conversation again took easier paths, and soon enough they turned to walk back to the manor house while conversing lightly about music. They agreed to play some together after lunch, and then Lothíriel made her way to her rooms to change her walking shoes into soft slippers she used indoors. It also allowed her a moment to reflect by herself.

The conversation had given her much food for thought. In some ways, and yet in others not at all, it had mirrored the one she had shared with King Éomer. It surely made the contrast between these two men even stronger than before.

She sat down by the window and rubbed her temples with her fingers to ease an ache that was not really physical. Who was she fooling? At least not herself. Every time she spoke to Lord Aegdir or even thought of him, she was also thinking of King Éomer – comparing one to the other. It was terribly unfair for the young lord, especially if it was how his own father had treated him. However, what could she do? Aegdir himself had wanted to court her and he had acknowledged he didn't expect her to fall in love with him straight away. Moreover, she wasn't sure it even was what Aegdir hoped for their possible union – he seemed to be more interested in finding a companion who might help him shoulder the duty of his seat and legacy. He was not just looking for a pretty little wife to adorn his home. The woman who took it up would indeed be a great lady, just as Father had said.

She sighed and slumped back, allowing her body to fall into a position quite unsuited for a lady; had Aunt Ivriniel seen her now, the old woman would have flicked her wrists with the tip of her cane, almost wrothing at the mouth while lecturing on the subject of personal dignity and how much of it came from a good posture. But Lothíriel felt weary all of a sudden as she gazed out of her window into the brightness of summer's day. Laughter carried in from the garden, where Queen Arwen was walking with Éowyn and a company of ladies in waiting, their minds quite untroubled. She wondered, what would they advise her to do? Did she even dare ask?

From her vantage point, she could see both the Queen and the Lady of Emyn Arnen, their bright smiling faces, and recalled the obvious: both had followed their own minds and hearts and found happiness in that way. This would probably be their counsel to her as well, if she asked. But looking at these two women, she also understood what tremendous courage it had taken. Both had given up much to be where they now were, and caused great sadness to their families, intended or not.

Her own choice wouldn't be any different at least in one regard: she too would have to be brave, whatever passed. But to what purpose that courage would be needed – of that she had no idea yet.

After all, it was not just her choice.

Much to Aegdir's disappointment, Lothíriel was invited to join the Queen and her ladies for the afternoon. She herself was secretly pleased, not because she abhorred the young lord's company, but because she felt like some hours away from him would help with her own reflections. Moreover, she had been spending much of her time with him and it would be rude to ignore other guests and the Queen in particular.

They gathered in Éowyn's solar, which was bright with sunlight and filled with things she had brought from Rohan. Dark polished wood, the horse motifs and intricately carved knot patterns, the rich hangings on the walls were all a wondrous sight to see. Almost one might think they were indeed in the land of the horse-lords. Éowyn favoured strong, earthy colours, but especially the green, gold and white of her House. The air of the room was cosy and comfortable and Lothíriel could almost hear the singing voices of Rohirrim and smell woodsmoke, as if this space carried within the very echo of the northern grasslands.

In the room, Queen Arwen invited Lothíriel to sit next to her – an honour that did not go unnoticed by her. The first time she had met the Half-elven woman, she had felt unnerved and intimidated before this unearthly radiance and loveliness. But Queen Arwen had a way about her that soon helped her mortal-born companions to settle down and feel easier.

Lothíriel had brought her own needlework, but she had hard time focusing on it: her eyes were constantly drawn to the Queen's skilled hands. She had been a patron to the finest dressmakers of Dol Amroth since she was first introduced in her father's court, but even then, Queen Arwen's skill at embroidery surpassed all their works. The Half-elven lady was making a shirt for King Elessar. Lothíriel liked the idea and the care that was imbued in it, and to watch those white hands work over the fine linen was rather mesmerising.

She had watched the needle fly in the Queen's hand for some minutes when Elrond's daughter abruptly spoke without raising her eyes from her work, "What troubles you, Lothíriel?"

Queen Arwen was not one for titles. Lothíriel had never heard her use them, but she also suspected that even the most self-satisfied lord was so disarmed by the Queen's grace that they did not mind.

"I... I feel like there is a choice I must make, but it's difficult. I don't know what is the right thing to do", Lothíriel said quietly, so that only her companion could hear her.

The Queen now glanced up, her impossibly bright eyes looking straight through her.

"Is it about the young lord Aegdir? Estel has told me about him", she said softly. It took Lothíriel a moment to recall that Estel was one of King Elessar's many names – perhaps the most intimate of them, and used now only by his wife.

"My father wishes for us to marry", Lothíriel said, lowering her eyes and staring at her needlework, which lay idly in her lap. "It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. But I have such doubts as I haven't really had before, and I'm scared of letting him down."

"Choices can be difficult. I should know", said the Queen slowly.

"But... you knew what your choice would have to be, my lady?" Lothíriel asked carefully, ready to back down. She had not meant to speak of this with this woman, yet here they were. And who knew? Maybe the Queen did have some advice that could help her.

"I would like to say that I did. But for what would seem like a very long time to you, I did not know if the world would let me make that choice. Much hung on a balance, and had things gone differently, then Minas Tirith would not stand today and Estel... Estel might be dead", said Arwen seriously. Lothíriel shuddered at the thought of how close the utter destruction of her whole world had been – and what a miracle it was that life still continued.

"What I mean to say", the Queen continued, "is that each choice is different. What is at stake is never the same. But remember, even if you choose after your own heart and mind, it doesn't mean that you love and respect your father any less. You are your own person, not just an extension of his."

She had seen straight into the core of the matter. Lothíriel had to cover her mouth in order to stifle the sob that had abruptly risen to her lips and she closed her eyes against the sting in them. Why the reaction came so strongly, she didn't know for sure. Perhaps it was just the wonder and gratefulness that somebody knew how the conflict between duty and desire tore at her heart, and how she feared that she wasn't the daughter her father could be proud of, after all.

The Queen laid a gentle hand on her arm while she spent a moment to collect herself. The ladies in waiting were discreetly turned away and speaking between themselves, as if they were unaware of this display; but discretion was indeed the first requirement when one served with the consort of a king. Only Éowyn shot concerned glances their way.

Lothíriel patted her eyes with her handkerchief and cast an apologetic little smile at the Queen.

"Please forgive me. I don't know what got into me", she said in a small, shaky voice.

"It's all right, my dear. I understand it better than you know", said Queen Arwen, and the shade of immense sadness briefly clouded her eyes. She knew about hard choices, indeed: hers had parted her from her kin for ever. It was a sobering thought. Compared to the choice this Half-elven woman had made, Lothíriel felt like her own trouble was laughable.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Arwen smiled.

"Comparison is not useful, at least not in that way. No matter how much harder or worse somebody else has it, in the end it shall not make your own burdens easier. Taking counsel may help you along the way, but in the end, you are the one who lives with your choice", she said, soft and solemn.

"Is it very hard?" Lothíriel dared to ask, even though she wasn't sure if it were completely appropriate. But the Queen did not seem put off by the frank question.

"Sometimes. It is worth it, though; of that I am reminded every day", she replied, smiling in a way that seemed to bring out a special inner radiance. It made her almost painfully beautiful to behold. It was also strangely reassuring. Living with your choice didn't have to be just a terrible burden.

"Don't be afraid, Lothíriel."

To be continued.

A/N: Here's a new chapter for the new year! I hope 2022 shall treat us all a bit better.

I felt like it was necessary to let Lothíriel actually spend some time with Aegdir and have her talk to him. In certain ways, her conversation is meant to mirror or echo the one she had with Éomer - and to show the difference between these two men. She doesn't realise that Aegdir is being bit of an opportunist, as you probably noticed. But whether his intentions are sinister or because he has realised his competition is pretty damn formidable and is thusly grasping at any chance he gets will remain to be seen.

I also deliberated at first whether or not to include the little duet, but in the end I did, because Lothíriel and Éomer don't get to spend much time with each other in this chapter and I wanted them at least to have some kind of a moment together (even if they don't realise it). It also allowed certain developments with Aegdir. Not to mention, our two lovebirds bonding even when they don't know it is rather endearing.

A talk with Arwen seemed fitting, and some of her advice necessary: I think Lothíriel very much needed to hear that making her own choice doesn't mean that she doesn't love and respect her father.

Thank you for reading and reviewing! Stay safe out there.

EStrunk - That is very much what I was going for! If Aegdir was just some moustache-twirling villain, it would be very easy for her to dismiss him as a suitor. It would also call for a very different story. However, in this situation she is genuinely conflicted, because Aegdir is a very valid choice for her. Timing here is important indeed, so of course I must put some obstacles in Éomer's way! :D And you are right - poor flustered thing completely forgot about where she was supposed to be going.

Simplegurl4u - Poor Éomer can't get a break! :D But let's be honest, if he did, what chances would Aegdir have?

I'm glad you liked the chapter! I hope you had a merry Christmas, and happy new year to you as well!

Cricket22 - Thanks! It is indeed a very important moment for them both. I think neither of them has really had a chance to open up in that way, and for Éomer especially it's pivotal because of how terribly alone he has felt for so long.

It's a difficult line to walk for their friends, because even if Éowyn or Aragorn or Arwen root for the two, there's still Imrahil to be considered, and I don't think any of them want to offend him. But I'm sure they would all help in what little ways they can (if they were aware of this growing interest between Éomer and Lothíriel). Either way, I hope you liked the part where Arwen offers some advice to her!

Éomer knows he needs to talk to Imrahil, and soon, but he can't ignore Faramir's need for help - and like he rightly notes, Lothíriel would think less of him if he did. But what would a romance be without some obstacles on the way? ;)

Boramir - Indeed he is!

Feelings are certainly growing between them, and the situation has potential of becoming very awkward, but we'll see how it goes!

JennyVDM - Glad to hear it! You are quite correct - things are getting more complicated. Imrahil has his reasons not to have considered Éomer, and perhaps we shall hear more of it soon.

Rho67 - Thank you so much, your comment truly made my day! I try my best. :) Often I feel like I can't truly describe the feelings and images I have in my head, but every once in a while, the words and phrases just click, and those are the best of moments!

We'll see about those cliffhangers - don't tempt me! :D

silverswath - Thank you! She tries to be, anyway. :)

Jo - Thank you! Hope you had a great Christmas, too. :)

It is very interesting indeed to engage in both their perspectives.

PilotDante - Glad to hear you're enjoying the story!

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thanks!

sailor68 - It's always a delight to see him being soft! I think he's a big softie inside, but doesn't get to show it often.

LH Wordsmith - Happy to see you're back! Yeah, they're two endearing fools, and I'm glad you enjoy their interactions so far! We'll see about that spice, though. ;) Don't give me ideas!