Chapter 10

Having made sure that her appearance did not betray her encounter – or it's delightful nature – with the King of Rohan, Lothíriel decided to go back to the ball. She supposed she could have retired at this point, but she was feeling too high-strung to even think of trying to sleep, and she really wanted to speak to her father. She had to know if he had somehow made King Éomer act so oddly with her for the past few days. And, of course, let him know she could not even think of marrying the young lord of Lossarnarch.

She didn't feel angry with her father, whether her guess was right or not. However, the issue had to be cleared out quickly and she needed to tell him how things stood. And Aegdir – well, no matter how she felt about him, he deserved to hear the truth without delay.

Thankfully, Lothíriel found her father quickly after she had descended downstairs. He was talking to a tall Knight of King Éomer's company and Elphir. When Lothíriel quietly came to his side and whispered that she wanted to talk to him, Father excused himself; her brother and the Rider seemed perfectly content to carry on the conversation between themselves. Elphir was eagerly questioning his companion about cavalry tactics and training, and the blond man happily answered in his accented Westron.

"What is it, my dear?" asked Father as she linked her arm with his and gently pulled him towards the doors that lead to the gardens. Inside, it was next to impossible to find some space for a private conversation.

"I need to ask you something, Father. It's... sensitive", she said to him, which sobered his expression. He nodded quietly and didn't ask more before they were outside. The evening had grown chillier than nights before now, but there was still a rush in her veins that kept her warm.

As soon as she judged they were out of anyone's hearing distance, she spoke the question.

"Father, has King Éomer approached you lately, and asked about me?"

She felt a sudden, slight tensing in his arm.

"He has indeed. He asked for my permission to court you."

"And you refused it, didn't you? Because of Lord Aegdir?" Lothíriel asked.

"Your guess is correct. It seemed very sudden to me, and I thought you needed time and peace to make up your mind about the young man first. So I asked Éomer to stand down for the time being", Father explained.

So it was as she had suspected: unknowingly, her father had come between them. And because of their friendship, King Éomer was put between a rock and a hard place. He must have felt like he couldn't talk to her without disrespecting her father – knowing that she could never make up her mind about Aegdir unbiased as long as he was anywhere near her. She could only imagine the pain it must have caused him.

"Oh, Father", she sighed, thinking of all the hurt and misunderstanding that might have been avoided. "I wish you hadn't done that. I... the truth is, I don't think I can accept Aegdir."

He looked at her sharply.

"Lothíriel, has Éomer been talking to you?"

"He has not, Father – not in the way you think. He has kept his word to you, and if he has said anything, it's because I left him no choice", she explained quickly. The corner of his mouth twitched. No doubt he was amused to think that anyone, his slip of a daughter included, could force the formidable warrior king to do anything.

She looked up at him and asked, "When did he ask you about me?"

He told her it was the very night before the sudden change in the King's treatment of her. So he must have gone to her father almost straight after their conversation in the garden, which Faramir had so unfortunately interrupted. Of course.

"It was already too late at that point, Father. We had an understanding... I was thinking of turning Lord Aegdir down. But then the next morning, King Éomer suddenly acted so strangely and distantly, as if nothing had happened. I was so hurt, thinking I had done something wrong. I thought... it sounds horrible, but I was thinking I would have to be settle for Aegdir", she explained quietly.

Father was silent for a minute and he held her hand tightly.

"Lothíriel, when did all this happen? I had no idea that you and the King had already formed a relationship", he asked her.

"I suppose it happened the very same day Aegdir joined us. I had gone walking alone and decided to sit by the river, for the day was warm and I felt hot. I sat there alone, when the King addressed me, and asked if he could join me. We started talking, and... Father, I can't explain it. At once, I felt like I could tell him anything, and he spoke to me in a way no man ever has before. Like we were old, trusted friends. He didn't treat me like some silly little girl, who could not possibly understand anything more serious than the day's weather or the latest fashion from Minas Tirith. And still he was so charming and warm", she explained, her heart beating a little faster when she described their shared moment by the river. Already it was such a precious memory to her.

Father listened quietly, sensing that her tale was not yet over. His look was serious.

"The impression he made was strong, Father. I still felt the wonder of him when we got back to the house, and met Aegdir, and… I think things just got going from there", she said, feeling heat on her cheeks. She decided not to mention the singing, because that would be harder to explain.

"So it was doomed from the start", Father said quietly. He sighed. "Of course. It seems so obvious now – I wonder why I did not realise immediately. Éomer is not a man you bring to a party if you wish to give spotlight to somebody else. I did have some doubts whether this was a good occasion to introduce you to Aegdir, but he was so impatient to meet you, and Éomer has not shown any interest in the ladies of our land before now. Clearly, I judged wrongly."

"I tried to spend time with Aegdir, like you asked, but for so much of it I was at least partly thinking of King Éomer. No matter how I tried, I couldn't shake off the memory of our conversation, or compare the easiness I felt with him to how difficult it was for me to find common ground with Aegdir. And each time I saw the King again, even if we didn't speak to one another, it felt like that same conversation was still going on. We both felt it. And the night he talked to you, there was... well, we were interrupted before anything was said out loud, but he was effectively asking for my permission to talk to you about courtship. I decided that as soon he did, I would turn Aegdir down. I feel so guilty, Father – I let him think he might have a chance with me, when he actually did not", she said, staring down on the ground. Her cheeks burned, but less with excitement and more with shame.

Father squeezed her hand tightly.

"If you have done anything wrong, it's because you too were left in the dark, daughter. That is my responsibility and mine alone. I should have been more honest with you. I saw how you defended the King when one of those young lords criticised him. It stirred my own doubts and made me wonder if you had some feelings that I was not aware of at the time. I meant to ask you bluntly, but you were busy going riding with them, and I let it be, thinking that if you defended Éomer, it was only because of your good nature. Elbereth, I should have opened my eyes days ago, watched more closely how you acted with these two men around you, and asked what you truly felt", he explained. He sighed again and asked, "But why did you not talk to me sooner, child?"

"For a time, I myself did not know my feelings. After the night I last spoke with the King, I had no idea that you told him to hold back. I was so confused. It seems so foolish now, but what was I supposed to think? And I knew you are fond of Aegdir – that you wanted me to accept him and make this union. I thought it was my duty and I didn't want to disappoint you", said Lothíriel. She felt so stupid now, realising she should have gone straight to her father.

He halted and turned her gently so that they could face one another.

"Lothíriel, how could you believe such a thing? You are my joy and pride, and never once have you let me down. The way you carry your responsibilities is so graceful and quiet that I tend to forget how young you still are. That is my mistake and I freely admit it. But never think I would sacrifice your happiness for somebody else's, Aegdir included. I am fond of him, yes, but he is not my child. You are. If you do not feel like he's the one for you, if there's someone else you'd rather join your life with, then of course I will support you", he told her firmly, and his words made her so relieved that she had to take support of his arm. Her father loved her – of course he did, and he wouldn't push her to do something she didn't want.

"Then why did you turn King Éomer down when he asked to court me?" she wanted to know. Her father smiled wryly.

"Clearly, I wasn't aware of what was going on between you and him. And you, my daughter, are so sensible and discreet that I have clearly failed to read the signs as far as your feelings are concerned. And like I said, his request seemed so sudden to me. He had never expressed interest in Gondorian women and I wasn't sure if he was serious about it. It seemed one-sided to me, and I thought it might make you confused – distract you when you were supposed to be deliberating your decision about Aegdir. Our Rohirric friend is quite a charming man and purposefully or not, he has left other ladies bewildered before. I did not guess that this time, the feeling was mutual", he explained gently.

She nodded quietly and slowly they began to walk again.

"I think I might have felt differently about Lord Aegdir if I had met him in some other circumstances. But when he came along, King Éomer was already here, and... well, no one else can compare. He's so wonderful, Father. He is sweet and caring and when we are together, he truly pays heed and cares about what I have to say. He sees me in a way nobody else does."

"And Aegdir?"

"He is a pleasant young man in his own way, but he lacks sincerity. He doesn't speak to me like he would to an equal and I feel like we would very soon run out of things to talk about between ourselves. He flatters me too much and I don't like his friends. And I believe he has lied to me at least once", Lothíriel told her father. She didn't mention to him how King Éomer made her blood race – how he made her feel both safe and excited. Even now she could taste his mouth on her lips. Father would surely get the wrong impression, though she very much intended to do this properly, just as she had told Amrothos.

"I see", Father said quietly. He was silent for a while and then let out a sigh. "Perhaps my own perspective is prejudiced. I do like Aegdir, but now I wonder how well I actually know him. I may have let my regard for his late father affect my judgement. At any rate, I am disappointed to hear he hasn't been honest with you, though I'm glad you told me. I should have spoken to you sooner, dear child, and asked what you truly thought... but like I said, you bear your duties with unmatched grace, and maybe I expect more of you than I should."

"Father, I do not blame you for having high expectations. You did not raise me to be meek and fearful in the face of duty", she reassured him.

"Even so, it is no cause to bring you unhappiness. And speaking of high expectations: your union with Éomer would indeed be a great match, both for our House and for Gondor, I am not unaware of that. But...perhaps I just see you too much as my little girl still, for I wondered if there's too much fire in him for you to handle. I did not guess you might desire such a thing in your marriage", he admitted, and even if he was embarrassed to speak of this so straightforwardly with her, he was bearing it exceptionally well.

"Thank you, Father. I can't tell you how relieved I am that you accept my choice. It would break my heart to think that I had disappointed you.. And I know you probably feel like this is sudden, and I've only just met King Éomer. But I promise I mean to do this properly. I won't ask to marry him tomorrow, however exciting that might be. I only wish for a chance", she told him warmly. Her father looked down at her and pressed her arm gently with his own. She thought that in the light of torches, his eyes were bittersweet.

"My dear child. I never thought you would grow up so soon, or shine so brightly when you did", he said, voice cracking just a little bit. He cleared his throat and continued, "Éomer is a good man, and with you by his side, he may become a great one."

At his words, she could only smile, almost fearful it would split her face in half.

"Should I expect him to approach me soon?" he asked her.

"Yes, Father. Please be more gentle with him this time", she told him.

"Of course, my dear. Now that I know he is your chosen, I shall be most gracious", he reassured her, smiling slightly.

The conversation with her father brought to her a feeling of hopeful calmness. All her doubts of past couple days were gone with the knowledge that he supported her, no matter what she decided. She beamed up at him, so glad that no words could contain her happiness.

But Father's expression was sombre.

"Daughter, do you wish for me to speak to Aegdir?" he asked her carefully.

Her giddy mood sobered at that. She couldn't deny she was tempted by the offer, but immediately she knew it would not be right or fair. In this matter, she could not hide behind her father's back. It would no doubt be painful, but Aegdir deserved a direct and honest answer.

"I should probably talk to him myself", she said to her father and let out a sigh. "But perhaps not tonight. I'll seek him out tomorrow and let him know what I've decided."

He squeezed her hand and smiled.

"I am glad to hear it, my dear, though I never expected anything less of you", he told her, not even attempting to hide his pride. He leant down to kiss the top of her head, "Go ahead and enjoy tonight, child. Uinén knows you have earned it."

When Éomer returned to the ball, his mood was quite different compared to the past few days. His feet felt light and it was hard to keep from grinning like a fool. Passing by his sister, he was tempted to pick her up in a mighty hug and laugh out loud. It was truly marvellous how quickly things could turn around.

Not even the thought of Imrahil dampened his mood. Granted, he might have felt guilt over what had happened – in a way, his actions could be regarded as breaking his word – but he did not. This was because whatever agreement they had made between one another, it was without her consent. Not only was it unfair, it was also hurtful. Had Éomer acted any differently tonight, if he had rejected her, then it would have made her gravely unhappy. And her misery was never a part of the deal. In fact, he was certain that causing her pain would be a much worse crime in Imrahil's eyes.

He would have told the good news to his sister right away, but she was surrounded by a company of her guests and looked to be deep in conversation, so he decided to talk to her later, perhaps after the ball.

It felt rather like walking on clouds, and how his feet took him to Aragorn, he wasn't certain. His friend was surrounded by courtiers, but they made space around their king at his signal. Of course, Aragorn already knew that his Rohirric friend wanted a private word.

"You look cheerful", he commented and gestured to one of the servants to hand him a drink. Éomer accepted the cup readily.

"There's every reason to be", he said, barely able to conceal his grin. "I've just talked to the lady."

There was no need to specify. Aragorn raised a quizzical brow.

"And the result was satisfactory?"

"Very much so. We have cleared our misunderstandings."

Cleared the misunderstandings, indeed! He still felt intoxicated by her, the taste of her mouth, the touch of her hand, and the look in her eyes.

"I am very glad to hear it, my friend", said Aragorn, smiling as he toasted his cup with Éomer's. He continued, "I was starting to worry I might have to interfere. You must guess what my feelings are on this issue – that I'd rather see her sitting next to you in Meduseld than living a life in Lossarnarch that does not meet her measure. But I'm relieved you and her were able to resolve it between yourselves."

Éomer snorted softly.

"Well, the lady gave me no choice. She is formidable when she does battle."

Aragorn's eyes glinted.

"Her will is a match for yours, I suspect."

"She is my match in more than one way."

His friend smiled, but it was the sober smile of one who has long hoped for some deeply felt outcome, and seeing it fulfilled feels joy and relief that is more akin to tears than to laughter. He said nothing, but he didn't need to – Éomer could read all that was necessary in his friend's eyes. Silently, they toasted again.

"Have you spoken to her father yet?" Aragorn asked after a moment.

"I shall do that tomorrow. If I guess right, she won't waste any time before explaining things to him. I think Imrahil will be more receptive to my request when he knows her perspective", said Éomer.

His friend nodded.

"Indeed. And he is no fool. However predisposed in the young man's behalf he is, I think he will understand which alternative guarantees greatest success and happiness. And not just for today, but for a long time to come", Aragorn said.

"But he probably needed to hear it from his daughter, first. Perhaps I have been a little impatient", Éomer said warily. His friend's good-natured smile implied that his impatience had been more than just "a little". But either way, things now seemed to have fallen back to the right course.

"She will be a wonderful queen", Aragorn said, smiling slightly.

"Aye. And much more prepared for the throne than I was", Éomer remarked.

"And your council? What will their position be?"

"I expect they will be agreeable. They appreciate Imrahil almost as much as I do. It's a rare boon that both they and I should be getting what we want", said the younger of the two kings, smiling wryly.

"I know that well", Aragorn said, shaking his head. In a strange way, it was a comforting thing to hear that even he, beloved as he was, still struggled sometimes with his council.

The King of Gondor and Arnor glanced at his friend, "Though that does leave one party disappointed."

Ah, yes. Aegdir.

"You think I should worry about him? He doesn't strike me as a bold or strong man", Éomer said. What could the young lord do if the lady would not have him? She was not just any noble's daughter, nor was her preferred suitor a small or inconsequential one.

"Perhaps. But I get a feeling he can be proud and prickly. Not to your face, maybe, but to hers? I wonder", Aragorn said, sipping his wine.

Éomer frowned and considered his friend's words. Aragorn's instinct was keen and when he spoke, one did well to listen. He didn't think she had promised the young lord anything, for she was careful and prudent. However, Aegdir might feel that she had. Would he try to make trouble? Perhaps he would attempt something more subtle, something that might hurt her reputation. If Aegdir got it in his head to make her look like a faithless opportunist, who abandoned a prospect as soon as something better appeared… Rohirrim wouldn't care about it – most of his people knew Lossarnarch only as far as it related to Morwen Steelsheen – but the matter might not be so simple here in Gondor.

Then again, the answer was not necessarily difficult. While the lady was subtle and concealed her feelings so well that apparently even her father did not guess at them, Éomer was less inhibited in this regard. He would not find it hard to show exactly what was the nature of his interest in the daughter of Imrahil.

He was still thinking of this when Éowyn arrived with some bustle, her eyes glittering.

"Brother, come along! I have a surprise for you", she said, barely taking a moment to smile and nod at Aragorn, to say nothing of asking whether she was interrupting. Éomer cast an apologetic smile at his friend and got up to follow his sister.

"What is this now?" he asked her.

"You always try to make me spoil the surprise", she scolded him.

"That's because I don't generally like surprises. They tend to be unpleasant, in my experience", he pointed out.

"Dear brother, sometimes you make me worry. Life is not always that grim! And would I treat you so poorly?" she asked him, pulling him by the elbow.

"I don't know, would you?" he asked back half-seriously. She gave him a long-suffering look.

They came to the hall and he tried not to scowl. What had she got in her head now? He glanced around himself, and saw that the band of musicians that had been playing tunes for the dancers were now reinforced by several Rohirrim who had come to serve Éowyn in Emyn Arnen. They held instruments he knew from their own homeland, the famous strings Eorlingas so loved, and pipes that sang with a voice as bright and clear as the Western wind. Éowyn was grinning next to him. Whole night, they had listened mostly to Gondorian songs, but clearly a change was intended.

His sister beamed at the crowd that was gathered in the hall.

"My lords and ladies! I would like to thank you all for joining us tonight. It has been a truly wonderful evening, and I wish that you have all enjoyed yourselves as well as I have", she spoke to them, clear and strong, and her words were met with a polite, Gondorian applause. A few of Éomer's own company appeared as though they might have cheered her more loudly, but followed the Southern example.

"Some of you have visited Edoras and heard the music of my homeland, but there are many here tonight who have not had that pleasure. As you know, among Rohirrim nobles and commoners alike take joy in songs, playing many instruments or using only their own voices. Tonight, some of my own company have agreed to play you the music of the North in the honour of my brother the King and his party", she continued, now rousing more noise especially among their countrymen who were participating in the ball. Éomer himself applauded her loudly and smiled. This wasn't such a bad surprise, after all.

"But first, my friends, let us listen to a song our late uncle, King Théoden, used to sing when my brother and I were young. For it is said that in the land of Rohan, it is our kings who hold both the warrior's courage and the minstrel's grace in their heart of hearts", said Éowyn, and she gestured with her hand to a man Éomer recognised as her stable master, Wynnstan. He recalled the man was said to be an excellent singer, though he had no experience one way or the other. But that was not what caught his attention; it was what she said. Though her expression was innocent, he guessed her words were meant for an audience of one.

She was there, of course, and whether Éowyn had somehow contrived for the Lady of Dol Amroth to come and hear the music, Éomer didn't know. But he was certain his sister expected it was the only push they needed. He almost snorted out loud. He should have known Éowyn would not accept defeat, but set them up in a way that would force them to acknowledge their feelings and take the necessary steps to thwart Imrahil's intentions. Of course, it was too late for that now, but when his eyes found her, he decided this might be a good thing, after all. At the very least, it gave him a chance to make his intentions clear – and hopefully give Aegdir some food for thought, in case he got ideas about causing trouble.

Lady Lothíriel stood next to Amrothos, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. When she realised he had noticed her watching, she quickly lowered her eyes. Her brother pursed lips revealed he was enjoying himself much less than he had expected to, and probably would let his Rohirric friend hear his discontent as soon as possible. In some other circumstances, seeing Amrothos so serious about chaperoning might have been very amusing and Éomer would have teased his friend mercilessly about it. But the fact that he was the reason for it made things... well, it was rather strange.

But now Wynnstan stepped forward and began to sing unaccompanied. He had a strong, clear voice that filled the very rafters with its echo, pouring out through the doors and bringing in more curious people to see what was happening. Rohirric minstrels sometimes performed like this, using no instrument but their voice, though most usually at least had a harp they could hold and play in their lap. Yet when the singer was as good as Wynnstan, no other sound was needed to carry out the tune and the tale it told.

It was an old song that, as stories had it, Eorl himself had composed when he first beheld the green land where he would build his kingdom. A fair song it was, describing Eorl's wonder at the lush green earth and the rich soil, so different to the barren fields of the north. Théoden had indeed sung it in days gone by, when his sister-children were but two grieving orphans. It still never failed to move Éomer, and so it did now, evoking memories of his first nights in Meduseld, and the glow of firelight on their uncle's face as he softly sang Eorl's song. Éowyn's grip on his arm became tighter, although her expression did not change.

He did not much care what anyone else in this hall thought of the song, or if the performance was fit for such a place and occasion, except for one. But he was not disappointed. Lady Lothíriel had raised her eyes again and was gazing at Wynnstan in bright-eyed wonder. She couldn't understand the words, but judging by her look, the song still spoke to her and stirred her heart.

He almost wanted to laugh. The woman clearly had a thing for Rohirric men singing!

Wynnstan reached the end of the song and bowed. There was a brief silence, but those of the Rohirrim who were present were quick to start cheering loudly. And not just them, because Aragorn had joined the audience and was applauding as vocally as the Northmen, and his earnest reaction encouraged many others among Gondorians to follow his example.

In that brief moment, Éomer also spotted another face in the crowd, trying to move through it. Aegdir, whom he had not seen in some time, was working his way towards her. He was wearing a look on his face that Éomer did not like, sour and dark. It did not seem like tonight had gone after his expectations, and perhaps he had ideas of how to make up for it. But the young king recalled Aragorn's words, and wondered if Amrothos was enough protection against the boy's complaints.

"Not to your face, maybe, but to hers?"

He didn't really think before he was already moving towards the lady. Maybe she didn't need his protection. She was not easily intimidated. But he recalled what he had considered earlier, and perhaps it would not hurt to provide some additional safeguard, in case Aegdir decided to be vocal about his disappointment. And she was very lovely tonight, and it would be a shame if he didn't get to dance with her at least once. He was certain it had been Éowyn's plan all along, and as if on cue, her musicians were already starting the first tunes of a popular reel.

With his bulk, it was easy to make way for himself in a crowd, much easier than for Aegdir apparently, and people tended to clear his path anyway when he began to move with purpose. So he got to her before the young lord, much to his relief.

"Will you dance with me, my lady?" he asked her.

"I don't know the steps, Sire", she said, although her eyes were bright and earnest.

"I will show you", he offered.

"Must you really?" asked Amrothos, frowning at them both.

"Don't be a drag, brother. It's just a dance", she told him as she put her hand in Éomer's own, the gesture so natural and absent-minded that it was as if they had clasped hands a thousand times before now.

"I wouldn't dare to push my luck", Éomer reassured his friend, already gently pulling her to the centre of the floor.

"You better not!" Amrothos grumbled, but at least he didn't actively try to stop them.

They were not the only ones crowding the floor. Éowyn and Faramir had stepped forward, and Aragorn with one of the women who had followed the White Lady to serve her in Emyn Arnen. Most of the rest of the dancers were Rohirrim, guests or household, but there were also a few adventurous Gondorians taking part.

But Éomer saw them only momentarily. Lady Lothíriel was looking at him with a blush on her cheeks and light in her eyes, both excited and a little nervous.

"You put your hands here on my shoulders. Don't be scared to take support of me – the music can get a little wild, and dancing as well. May I hold you like this?" he asked her, his own hands carefully hovering about her waist.

"Y-yes", she breathed, placing her own fingers gingerly on his shoulders. She seemed to take in a deep breath and she pressed her hands more firmly against him. The colour on her face grew when he gently grasped her by the waist. For a minute they both seemed to be considering this – what it felt like, standing and touching each other in such a way, and committing the moment into memory. And then he let the song carry them away.

She grew confident quickly, just as earlier when they had kissed, and it was as if light burst from her eyes when she got the hang of the dance and the lively tune. Éomer felt like the music was flowing through him, beating a rhythm for his blood and breath. It was a fast song, but the steps were simple, and his partner swiftly caught the idea. She was light on her feet, but she pressed her hands heavily against his shoulders, trusting him not to let her fall. When had he last danced like this? How long was it he had let it take over, clearing his mind of worries that filled his days and reminding him of what it felt like to be truly alive? He could not recall.

He could easily have spent the rest of the night just dancing, knowing nothing of the world beyond the fair lady and the music that filled his mind and soul, and the hum and movement of other dancers around them. And they danced full three songs together, neither needing or thinking of anything else. Well, he knew he wasn't thinking, but Lady Lothíriel was perhaps more sensible than he.

For when the music paused so that the players could catch their breaths and perhaps drink a little bit, the two of them also had to stop. She breathed heavily and a light sheen of sweat glistened against her neck. Her hair, so immaculate before, looked like it would come apart with another turn around the floor.

He had never wanted her as much as he did then.

"My father is watching", she pointed out softly. Her words were as though a bucket of cold water, which was probably a good thing. Indeed, glancing around he quickly spotted Imrahil in the audience, watching them in silence. At least the Prince did not look displeased and doubtless he would already have contrived a way to get her away, had he not approved. If anything, his expression betrayed only deep contemplation, though there was a small crease on his brow.

Either way, it was time to step back.

"What do you make of Rohirric dancing, my lady?" he asked her, and was surprised his voice came out so collected.

"I wouldn't mind trying it again. Thank you, my lord. It has been a most enjoyable night", she replied, eyes shining. A light, mischievous smile played across her mouth.

"Indeed. I am very pleased as well", said Éomer. "Do you think your father would be willing to talk to me tomorrow?"

She let out a soft little chuckle.

"I think after this, he demands it", she said, shaking her head as if her own conduct surprised her. She added, "But you need not worry. I've made my position clear to him and he should be more agreeable to your request than before."

"I am glad to hear it", Éomer said, still feeling a little relieved, even though he was sure Imrahil would already have descended on him with vengeance if Lady Lothíriel had not shared her feelings with her father.

Perhaps he had acted recklessly this evening, but he did not feel like it was completely wrong. This time, he had asked her first. Before, he had gone to Imrahil without her by his side, and they had both paid for that mistake. Now he saw how foolish he had been. For Lady Lothíriel was like a reflection of himself in the ways that truly mattered, and in the way she put others' needs and duty before her own happiness. People rarely asked what she wanted for herself. Even he had done so, although he above all should know better.

No matter what Imrahil thought, this time he felt like he had done right by Lothíriel. And wasn't that what was important? He wished to marry her, not her father.

And judging by the way she watched him, her eyes alight and face glowing with earnest joy, she wholeheartedly agreed.

"Thank you for tonight, my lady. For the dance, for knocking some sense in this thick head of mine, and… other things", he said and bowed, hoping that the rampant want that must surely blaze in his eyes didn't unsettle her too much. "I wish you a good night and pleasant dreams."

"And I you, my lord", she replied, meeting his eyes boldly and without any shadow of doubt. She curtsied, all grace and dignity even now, and turned to make her way to her father. However spirited their dancing had been, nobody could blame them for improper conduct now.

The music was starting again, but he had no more appetite for it, at least not with another partner. Éomer decided it would just sour the sweet sensation left by her. So he moved away from the floor, still feeling rather dazed and giddy.

His mind so preoccupied, he didn't notice Éowyn before she was already standing next to him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright – she had enjoyed the dancing, too – but still managed to give him a piercing look.

"Well, now you've done it, my brother", she commented wryly.

"Done what, my sister?" he asked her absent-mindedly. His eyes searched the crowd for the lady, although the hall was full of people and she had gone the opposite way from him.

"Declared your intentions to anyone who has eyes – before Imrahil himself, no less. Weren't you just telling me how you absolutely would not be doing such a thing?" Éowyn asked him.

"For your information, the situation has changed. We spoke earlier this evening and she made it very clear that she did not share her father's sentiment. I believe she has also told him that already."

Her eyes widened, and then she grinned.

"Good for her! I knew she could do it."

Éomer frowned at his sister.

"Have you been meddling, Éowyn?"

"I just gave her some friendly advice about taking things into her own hands, although I'm certain she would have done so anyway, no matter what I say", she said lightly, patting his arm. "After all, you left her bothered enough."

"Éowyn!" he protested, but to no avail. His sister's smile was obnoxiously smug.

"Don't act like a prude. It doesn't suit you", she told him, unfazed.

He snorted out loud. Prudish was the last thing he felt tonight.

"It's Imrahil's daughter you're talking about, Éowyn. And I don't have to be a prude to not want to hear my sister speak like a tavern wench."

"If you think that's how tavern wenches talk, you clearly don't know many of them", she shot back sweetly.

"That is well. I believe that as the King of Rohan, I'm not supposed to know them", he told her. "And why would I want to, now that this one lady has arrived?"

His sister laughed, put her arms around him, and gave him a tight squeeze.

What a night!

Lothíriel could not rightly say what had been her expectations, but surely nothing so wonderful and lovely. That King Éomer would show his true feelings, that her father would respond so well to her revelation, and then the Northern music and the Lord of Rohan asking her to dance... even now, as she slowly brushed her hair in her room, she was still humming the wonderful songs from his homeland and thinking of all that had passed tonight.

After speaking with her father, she had meant to spend this night as quietly and subtly as possible, even if he had told her to enjoy herself. As much as she craved for King Éomer's presence, she thought it was best to keep her distance for the time being, at least until she had spoken to Aegdir and told him how she felt. She hadn't seen the young Lord of Lossarnarch in some time now, and she did feel a little worried about his seeming disappearance. As such, it was something of a relief when Amrothos came and announced he would be remaining by her side for the rest of the night. Apparently he felt responsible after he had so blindly aided in her little escapade with King Éomer. But she didn't mind it, because if Aegdir did make another appearance, she would feel easier confronting him while one of her brothers was close.

However, she soon found out that any plan of spending a quiet night was doomed to fail.

And so Éowyn had come, eager and bright-eyed, telling her there was something in the hall she wanted her to see. Lothíriel had no suspicions at that point and neither did Amrothos, so they followed her readily. In retrospect, she probably should have guessed that after everything she had at this point revealed to the White Lady, she couldn't expect her cousin's wife not to try and arrange something between her and the King of Rohan.

They came to the hall, where other guests were milling and talking, their voices high and spirited. Lothíriel felt a sudden doubt as she glanced about and saw King Éomer at the other side of the room, looking as quizzical as she felt. Then she understood this was not an accident: she and the King were being ushered together, although how exactly it would happen, she didn't yet know.

She realised she should probably get away right now, and was starting to speak to Amrothos, when the lady of the house abruptly addressed the crowd. Her voice was clear and strong as she spoke of her uncle, King Théoden, and of the music of her northern homeland. The crowd whispered among themselves eagerly and more people streamed inside to see what this was about. The doorways were effectively blocked.

At this point, Lothíriel knew she couldn't easily or discreetly make her exit, and nor did she truly want to in all honesty. How many times had she heard talk of Rohirrim and their songs? Hadn't Éowyn herself praised the beauty of Northern tunes? So, against her better judgement, Lothíriel fell silent and stood still, eager to listen to the music he had grown up with.

A blond man – Rohir, if she ever saw one – had stepped forward. No instrument aided his song, but somehow it would have been wrong. His voice was strong and deep, his words strange. Yet she felt spell-bound as she listened. While Lothíriel had heard the Rohirric tongue spoken, it had not prepared her for what music made of it. She had not expected the beauty.

Still, as wondrous as the music was, she still had time to notice him. There stood King Éomer next to his sister, hand in hand as they listened to the song. She saw the bittersweet look on their faces and felt her throat grow tight. She knew how King Théoden had fallen on the battlefield, and his heir became his successor right there in the middle of blood and darkness. She could only wonder what it had felt like; it surely put the things he had told her in a different light entirely. And yet he kept on going, steadfast and reliable.

Admiration but also great tenderness flooded her heart, making her knees weak and wobbly. She took support of Amrothos arm and her brother cast her a strange look. Lothíriel just smiled weakly, realising now that her expectations of spending this night quietly and discreetly were utterly futile.

And perhaps that was precisely what Éowyn had intended.

The song ended, and musicians stepped forward. They bore instruments unlike anything she had seen in Gondorian courts. Lothíriel's heart leapt in excitement. She could no longer leave the hall or avoid whatever Éowyn had planned, even if she had wanted to.

Amrothos groaned next to her, and she quickly realised why. King Éomer was striding straight towards her, his face intent, his eyes burning. His earlier restraint and attempts to avoid her were completely gone, and now she understood how much he must have struggled to hold up that facade. She froze in momentary panic. How was this going to look? If she danced with him, it would be noticed and it would be talked about. Aegdir would soon know, if he were not already in the audience, and she had no doubt of how it would appear to him. Even if he had lied to her, she didn't want to hurt his feelings. However, there was no way she could refuse the King, either.

She didn't blame him for not keeping his distance. He didn't know her position – she hadn't explained everything to him properly and he had no reason to be sparing Aegdir's feelings. And he was a king and the golden son of Rohan. Lothíriel had a feeling that never once in his life had he managed to blend in or stand down.

But it was also a case of not knowing how to refuse him. For he came to her, bright and blazing, larger than life, and no matter how long she had trained herself in discretion and self-control, it was useless against him. She wanted this man. King Éomer had dismantled her defences from the very moment they first met and in his presence, all her grace and prudence were useless. Either she poured out her heart to him, or babbled like a flustered fool – or threw herself in his arms. His undivided attention was just as intoxicating as his seeming indifference had been painful.

And so there was nothing else left than giving in. He had pulled her with him to the floor, his hands gentle and steady. He told her to hold on to his shoulders and so she did. She wondered at how solid he felt – what was this man made of, anyway, was it the very bones of the earth underneath his skin? – and swallowed hard when his fingers pressed against her waist. Her breath hitched in her throat and the dancing hadn't even started yet!

And the music! She had never heard its like. The sound was rich and earthy and overpowering, and she could see herself and him dancing in a crowd not unlike the one around them, except it was in a great hall far in the north, standing at the feet of the mountains in the middle of vast green fields. She didn't know the steps, but it didn't seem to matter, and she could keep up well enough with him just by holding on to his shoulders. Time vanished. Music overcame her mind and all she knew was him, Éomer, and she no longer cared who saw them or how she betrayed her own feelings. She felt his strong shoulders, muscles moving under her hands, and occasionally in their fast pace she found herself pressed against him completely. She liked the feeling and more than once she brushed against him less because of the dance, and more because she simply wanted it. If she were a careless woman, she would have spent the night there, dancing and dancing and dancing, until she could no longer breathe or move.

Indeed, it would have been easy to lose herself so. Thankfully, the musicians made a short pause after that third song so that they could catch their breaths and drink a little. Her heart calmed down a little bit and so did her racing mind. So her eyes moved across the crowd and by chance she spotted her father there. He was watching them quietly – not angry, as she first feared, but just thoughtful and serious.

The thought of her father cooled her heated mood. She recalled herself again, and the fact that no matter how strongly she felt for King Éomer and he for her, they were not even formally courting yet. It was time to step back.

In a daze, she had walked back to her father, her light so feet as if stepping on clouds. It took serious effort not to glance back at the Lord of Rohan, though she still felt his gaze fixed on her.

"I hope you don't mind. I know I got carried away, Father, but he – he makes me so glad", she said quietly to her sire once she had reached his side.

His sombre expression faltered and turned into a slight smile, albeit with a hint of bittersweet.

"How could I blame you, child? I cannot recall the last time I saw you looking so happy. And you never got to enjoy the merriness after the war ended, unlike the rest of us. I did tell you to enjoy tonight, didn't I?" he asked her gently, much to her relief. Lothíriel smiled and tiptoed to kiss his cheek.

"Although I do hope your dancing partner intends to speak to me very soon", he remarked, attempting to show her a stern face but not quite succeeding. The look in his eyes remained too soft.

"Oh, I expect he will", she said, her smile growing.

So they bid good night to each other, and she retired, her feet still very light and eager to trace the steps of Rohirric dances. Now in her room, she closed her eyes and recalled the music, and wondered when she would hear it again. Perhaps very soon she would be a bride in the Golden Hall, recalling the dances of tonight, and sharing them again with one wonderful, wonderful man.

Her heart thrummed in her breast with a hope and vitality she could not recall feeling in a long time, perhaps ever. How much of her own desires and innermost emotions had she been suppressing and sacrificing for the sake of duty? And she shuddered before the realisation of how rare it was to find someone who shared both your sense and your sentiment. Who would have thought that she'd discover these things in a fierce warrior king of the north?

That night, she dreamt of golden hair.

To be continued.

A/N: Here is an update at last! It took fiendishly long to post it, but I've been incredibly busy lately, and feeling too drained to write much or often. I'm afraid this situation will continue at least for a while, and I have no idea of when I'll be able to update next. But I promise I will finish this story no matter how long it takes.

I'm not entirely happy with all parts of this chapter, again thanks to other obligations sapping all my creative energy and drive, but I don't hate it. I did enjoy Lothíriel's talk with her father, and writing her and Éomer being two lovesick idiots is always great. I hope you enjoyed it, too!

I hope you stay safe out there, and remember to love one another. Now more than ever Tolkien's grand themes of love, courage and compassion are important.

Also, Happy Eurovision day to my European readers, and also to everyone overseas who follow our annual silly and beloved show!

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Let me know what you think! Even when I'm feeling drained, your comments encourage me to keep going.

Tibblets - Indeed they are!

Wondereye - She didn't make it easy for him to hold back, and in the end, I don't think he wanted to!

Cricket22 - Thank you! This version of Lothíriel is smart and astute, and I think that with what she has got out of Éomer so far would be enough for her to figure it out. And though she tries to remain discreet, Éomer has a way of bringing out another side of her!

As for whether there will be more drama... wait and see! ;) I don't want to spoil the rest of the story!

I do hope you liked the conversations in this chapter!

EStrunk - Thanks! I think he is starting to know her a little bit, but not enough to realise where that fire is coming from at that point.

I can't help it - Amrothos in my stories always ends up the willing partner in crime! :D

sailor68 - I think this version of the character would very much act in this way. I mean, she's used to being in charge, so why wouldn't she take matters in her own hands? To me it seemed like that she would figure out what was what as soon as she got a proper reading on Éomer, so to speak.

Hope you liked her talk with Imrahil!

LH Wordsmith - Thank you! For me what makes her figuring things out so satisfactory is the way she has been so left in the dark - and left without agency of her own. But here she sees things clearly and acts upon them at last.

We'll see how it goes with Aegdir!

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thank you! We'll see how he will react to this turn of events!

Simplegurl4u - Indeed! ;)

This Lothíriel is definitely the sort to find out stuff for herself!

Cathael - Thanks! I think they are well-matched indeed. Like you said, she can be as stubborn as he.

No confrontation with Aegdir yet, but we'll see!

Guest - I am very happy to have introduced Nick Cave to you! He's a brilliant musician.

I think it's indeed very interesting to compare them, seeing how Thengel and Éowyn are related.

Also thank you! I never feel my stories are particularly deep, but if somebody thinks so, I'm more than delighted to hear so!

Indeed, reminders to hope are more important than ever.

I am glad to hear that this Lothíriel managed to captivate you in the end! I personally feel like some authors feel the pressure to make their Lothíriels sparkling and extraordinary. I myself have attempted that (with what success, I don't rightly claim to know). But having written as many stories with her as I have, you can't always make her a character that stands out. On the other hand, why should she have to? Why can't she be, indeed, the character that labours in the background, battles with duty and principle, and at last finds sunshine with this one person who sees her like nobody else does?

Jo - Oh, I must admit life has been getting in my way, too! I'm glad you took time to respond, though. :)

Lothíriel can definitely do this! I hope you liked the conversation with her father.