Chapter 40

Edoras

Yule 3020

"You know, staring at the city isn't going to make the time go by any faster." Éowyn's voice was calm, though Lothíriel could hear stifled laughter from within. "Besides, almost all the good that the elven cloth this tent is made from is wasted when you let all the cold in." Lothíriel came away from the tent opening sighing.

"We've been here three days now, and each passing minute drags on and on as if time itself has forgotten how to work." At Lothíriel's words, Éowyn smiled kindly before walking towards Lothíriel and hugging her.

"I can assure you, time is going on just as it always has." She took Lothíriel's hand and led her further into the tent. With a gentle push, Lothíriel was seated on a cushioned stool. "Stay here while I check on the servants' progress with heating the water for your bath. Éowyn kissed the top of Lothíriel's forehead. "Try not to fret too much."

Lothíriel did her best to follow Éowyn's advice as she glanced around her tent for what had to have been the hundredth time. She picked up the coral comb she had brought from home and ran it through her hair a few times. In the tent, along with a small cot for a bed, stacked with wool and furs for cushion and warmth, there were also four trunks. She stood and walked over to them. The first two were stacked neatly at the back and Lothíriel didn't bother opening them. They each had dresses that she and her maids had prepared for her married life in Rohan. While some had the traditional Amrothian colors of blue and silver, most of them sported the Rohirric coloring of bright red, green, gold or a combination of them.

She opened the third trunk and gently fingered the contents. There were several linen shifts, breast coverings, underclothes, hose and garters. Tucked in the corner were a pair of leather boots and besides those were two other pairs of shoes. Underneath the linen garments was a true treasure. Gifted to her by Queen Arwen was a long, silver, silk shift and a few silk ribbons of varying colors. Another gift she had received was three woolen scarves from Éowyn. She shut the trunk softly, and rested a hand on it for a few moments before letting her attention go to the fourth, and final trunk.

She opened it up as well, though she didn't bother digging though it. Instead of any finished product, it had a dozen bolts of fabric. There was linen, wool, and silk. Some had been embroidered with beautiful patterns while others were left entirely blank. These fabrics would not only provide the material for more dresses, but she could make tunics for Éomer and even clothes for any children that were to come of their union. She smiled to herself at the thought of sewing a little shirt for the boy she had seen in her vision all those years ago. Just as she was closing the last trunk, she heard movement outside the tent and turned.

Éowyn didn't hesitate to let herself into the tent. As she entered, she held the curtains covering the opening aside, allowing four other women to pass. They were maids from Dol Amroth who had come to accompany Lothíriel for the wedding. And in their arms were large buckets of steaming water. They followed each other in a line, careful not to spill a drop of the hot water until it was poured into the cloth lined tub. The first maid who emptied her bucket put it to the side and began helping Lothíriel out of her clothes.

When Lothíriel had shed all of her clothing, she stepped into the tub. The hot water was a pleasure to experience after their long journey to Edoras. As she soaked, one of the maids poured in oil that was scented with rose and lavender. After the oil was poured, Lothíriel slipped further into the tub, allowing her hair to soak as well. Éowyn then moved into place and washed Lothíriel's hair gently. After her hair was thoroughly cleaned, Éowyn picked up the coral comb and ran it through Lothíriel's long black tresses, removing any tangles. Éowyn then rung the hair, allowing most of the excess water to drip out. Directly after, she took a linen towel and wrapped the damp hair up in it. Once she was fully clean, Lothíriel simply soaked for a few more minutes, letting the sweet smelling oils sooth her.

Finally, Lothíriel stood. The cooler air in the tent – certainly warmer than outside – felt freezing as she stepped out of the tub. Almost immediately a heavy, fur-lined cloak was draped over her shoulders. Lothíriel pulled at the edges, drawing them around her as she hastened towards the fire that burned in a small, metal brazier. One of the maids brought the cushioned stool and Lothíriel was seated and Éowyn removed the twisted towel from Lothíriel's head, freeing her hair. Pulling out the comb, she once again ran it through her hair, though now with the heat of the fire near her, and the fact that it had only been slightly damp when it was wrapped, it began to dry quite rapidly. Once it was dry, Éowyn swiftly braided it, bringing all of it up to circle the back of her head. When the braid was finished, Lothíriel pulled out two strands of pearls.

"Those are beautiful." Éowyn commented she studied them in Lothíriel's hand.

"My mother left them to me." Lothíriel handed them to Éowyn. "I was hoping that I could wear them for my wedding." Éowyn studied the pearls before nodding to herself. On the ends of the two strands were small clips which would allow her to pin them into her hair. She did this, allowing the braid to be her anchor. When it was in place, Lothíriel looked in the small looking glass she had traveled with and nodded at the image.

While Éowyn was busy, the maids had taken her wedding dress from the first trunk and unfolded it. Lothíriel had been careful when she folded it for the trip so that it would not wrinkle on the voyage. She was glad to see that she had been successful. Still standing close enough to the brazier to enjoy the warmth of the fire, she removed the cloak. Taking a deep breath, she dressed.

First she pulled on the underdress. It was a light blue, the color of a cloudless sky. The woolen material was so soft that it felt as though she was touching a cloud. The sleeves of the dress hugged her arms tightly and went all the way down, ending at a point on the tops of her hands. The collar of her dress was a light grey linen that wrapped around the back of her neck and was open in the front, allowing the blue neckline to end at a point, accentuating her long, pale neck. The overdress did not cover the underdress as it normally would in Gondor, but wrapped around her torso, hugging her body. Once the dress reached her hips, it opened up, allowing the underdress to show through slits. The sleeves of the overdress were similar in that they covered her shoulders, but beyond that they opened and simply flowed around her arms allowing the pointed sleeves of the underdress to show through. The overdress was also a soft, white silk with embroidered vines made in a silver thread that glinted in the firelight.

"You look beautiful. Rohan is truly blessed to have not only such a kind-hearted queen, but one who is as beautiful as anyone could wish." Éowyn smiled and Lothíriel could see a hint of tears in her eyes. Lothíriel returned the smile and kissed Éowyn on the cheek.

"Are you decent?" Lothíriel recognized her father's voice from behind the curtain.

"Yes, Father," she called back. As he entered, his own face lit into a smile though it was shadowed briefly by a slight grief.

"Every time I see you, I feel as though I am seeing your mother more and more. I'm sure she would be proud of the woman you've become my dear." He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "And I'm proud of you too, though I'll miss you very much."

"Oh Father," Lothíriel fought the tears that were burning her eyes as she returned the hug. "I'll miss you and everyone in Dol Amroth so much!" Both of them took a few deep breaths before letting each other go.

"Well," Imrahil spoke. Although his face was dry, Lothíriel could hear the cloudy emotions in his voice. "It is nearly time for the wedding. Are you ready?" Lothíriel nodded before gently squeezing her father's hand. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he held the curtain aside so that Lothíriel could pass into the open air.

It had been snowing earlier in the day, but now it was as though all the clouds knew the occasion and had blown the skies clear. She could not only see the clear sky along with the tiny dots of stars peeking out as the sun began to set, but all around her was the white of snow. Although she had seen snow in the past while she lived in Imladris, the sensation of never ending white that came over her was new and made the world seem clean and innocent. It was as if there was no better day to be wed as the earth had finally moved beyond all the sadness and tragedy of the past few years.

Meduseld, the golden hall was no longer golden, but instead it appeared to be made of silver and diamonds as the dimming sunlight glinted off it. As the sun began to dip further beyond the horizon and the stars started to shine with more force, Lothíriel spotted two lines of torches. Without having to count, she knew from what Éowyn had taught her during Lothíriel's engagement, there were twenty of Éomer's personal guardsmen, ten in each line. One pair stopped just outside of the gates. The next several feet from the first pair, and so on until they reached the tent that Lothíriel had occupied.

The torches illuminated a path, and just as the last pair had reached Lothíriel, she saw that at the gates of Edoras, atop his dapple-grey warhorse, rode Éomer. With each step Firefoot took towards Lothíriel, her heart pounded on so loudly she wondered, with amusement, if anyone else could hear it. She could see in the firelight that he was wearing his crown. It wasn't as large and elaborate as the crown of Gondor, but there was a solid dignity to the simple, golden circle.

As he continued to get closer, she could see him in better detail. He had chosen to wear a heavy tunic, most likely made of wool that was the traditional dark green that Rohan was known for. That earthy tone amidst all the cool, white snow and warm, yellow torchlight made him seem as warm and welcome as the first breath of summer after a long winter. His legs were covered in a pair of light brown breeches and dark brown boots that were the color of tree bark. His hands were also covered in dark leather gloves and over his whole figure was a cloak, rimmed with soft, grey fur along the top.

Finally, after waiting for longer than she thought she could ever stand, he arrived in front of her. He sat upright and looked down at her. His expression was a mixture of joy and awe. Without a word, he dismounted from his horse and held a hand out for her. Lothíriel went to him without a moment of hesitation. She took his gloved hand and, still silent, Éomer guided her to Firefoot. Without any effort, he lifted her onto the horse's back. Firefoot stood, still as a statue as Éomer swung back onto him, easily moving Lothíriel into place on his lap. Lothíriel nuzzled into the warmth of his body and he brought the cloak around the both of them before turning the horse towards Edoras. They kept walking towards the city at a slow pace and behind them, Lothíriel's family among the others in the wedding party walked down the path. The guardsmen with the torches also followed after the wedding party had passed them. They continued until the twenty men with torches were surrounding them on each side. They passed under the gate and entered Edoras.

All of the people of Edoras, and many others from Rohan were already lining the darkened streets. Lothíriel could hear a few gentle sighs as they passed the people, but other than that, the city was as silent as the night. Most of the people they passed decided to follow after them as they approached Meduseld. Going at the slow pace, it took nearly three quarters of an hour to arrive at the steps to Meduseld. Lothíriel didn't mind how long it took though, because she was in Éomer's arms. She could smell him, and though he was certainly clean, there was still the scent of leather, and earth, and horse that she doubted anything less than a year of bathing would not come off him.

Éomer once again dismounted and Lothíriel waited as he held out his arms, placed his hands on her waist gently and helped her to the ground. Once she was standing at his side, he offered her his arm and they walked up, side by side to Meduseld. Just outside of the doors, they turned round and waved to the people of Rohan. They were met by silence yet again. If Lothíriel had not been expecting it, she would have possibly taken offense to it, but instead she had learned that the traditional marriage of a king of Rohan must be made in silence, but as soon as the ceremony was completed, the normally loud people would be just that. Éomer couldn't even speak a word to her until their ceremony was over.

When their acknowledgment of the people was satisfied, Éomer turned, pulling Lothíriel gently by the hand, and leading her through the doors of Meduseld. Before them stood a large fire pit that was the heart of Meduseld. The fire that normally burned all year round was now an empty, cold hearth. Beside it were piles of wood, kindling and a few bundles of tinder long with some fragment, dried herbs.

Doing just as Éowyn had taught her, Lothíriel stepped forward and began to meticulously set the kindling along the fire bed. Once that was in place, she stepped back and watched as Éomer set the tinder and larger pieces of firewood. In a few moments, he had finished placing them and Lothíriel took the the dried herbs which ranged from rosemary to sage and rubbed them between her hands until they were little more than dust and sprinkled them over the dry, cold wood. Once both of their work was done, Éowyn stepped from the crowd, a torch she had procured from one of the guardsmen in her hand. After taking four long steps, she stood before Éomer and Lothíriel and held out the torch. The two of them took it and together, they lit the fire.

As soon as the first spark lit, Éowyn, standing tall and solemn, threw back her head and let out a great shout of joy. That shout was like lightning in a storm because what followed was the raucous thunder of shouts and applause that echoed so loudly throughout the city that Lothíriel could feel the very floors of Meduseld vibrating against her feet.

"Mín brýd!" She heard Éomer's excited voice beside her ear. She faced him, and met his smiling eyes. "Mín cwén!" He bent down and kissed her lips softly at first, but much like the fire they had set, it didn't take long for the heat of his passion to take over the both of them. This act, seen by the whole of the court of Rohan and several of the Gondorians who had come along for the wedding applauded and there was another shout for joy.

…

Éomer woke to the morning sunlight peaking through the mostly covered windows. In that light that mimicked twilight, the love of his life slept. While he lay on his back, she was on her side, pressed up against his body. Her arm was draped over his torso and her head rested on his chest, allowing her unbound hair to splay across the pillow behind her. His own arm wrapped lightly around her waist. His hand pressed against her bare skin, feeling how soft and warm it was.

He turned his head slightly in order to look down at her. Her pale face in comparison to his own sun-tanned skin was a stark contrast. Working his way up from her chin, he studied her. Her pink lips were curved in a slight smile. Éomer wondered if it was the joy from the night before carrying over or simply a pleasant dream that gave her that expression. Moving up to her nose, he looked at the gentle slope and watched her breathe. It was even and deep, indicating she was still lost entirely to sleep. Thinking back on how late into the night they had explored one another, he wasn't very surprised by that.

He continued his ascent until he reached her eyelids. They were rimmed by long, black eyelashes that brushed against her cheeks. Above her eyelids were her softly bent eyebrows. With his free hand, he brushed his fingers along the edges of her face, barely even touching her. His touch seemed to rouse her. Though she didn't fully wake, she pressed her body further against him while also nuzzling her face closer to his neck, taking her face out of view. He moved his free hand away from her face and caressed the arm that lay across his body while he looked around their chambers.

He used to hate how large and empty it had felt before. More often than not, he would fall asleep in his study on a cot rather than sleep alone in this bed. He smiled to himself. He no longer felt alone in the slightest. As his eyes continued to roam the room, he spotted a table stacked with food he'd ordered prepared the day before.

There was an assortment of dried fruits, nuts and pastries as well as two pitchers of a sweet honeyed wine that had been a gift from Gondor. It had come with a note from Erchirion stating that it was Lothíriel's favorite. Éomer reminded himself that he needed to find a way to thank Erchirion for the gift of not only wine but the knowledge as well. He was in the act of wondering how long the food and drink would last the two of them before they would have to leave their chambers and be amongst company when Lothíriel's quiet voice spoke next to his ear.

"Good morning, hláford." Éomer smiled at the way she spoke the Rohirric word and felt ecstasy flow through him at the sound of his newest title before shifting and facing her. No longer was he looking at her closed eyelids, but instead, he was staring directly into her stormy grey eyes.

"Good morning, wíf." He kissed her gently on the mouth. "Are you hungry?" She nodded. He moved his arm from under her until he was free before removing himself from the bed and picking up the platter of food. After setting it down on the bed, he retrieved two cups and a pitcher. When he turned back to the bed with the wine he saw her staring at him.

"I don't think I'll ever be tired of looking at you." She gave a half smile before taking a piece of pastry from the tray.

"I think the same thought goes for me, mín éadlufu." He bent down and kissed her again before handing her the cup. "In fact, in this moment, I don't think any other man or woman can claim to be more blessed."

The End

A/N: Well it has been quite the journey! Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this, and a very special thank you to LadyBlueJay who has been a wonderful Beta!

I hope you have enjoyed this story and I look forward to reading your final reviews on not only this chapter, but this story overall.

Announcement: I am going through this story, and with a bit of worldbuilding (ok more than just a bit) and some name changes, I will be publishing as an original story. It will be the first of an (at least) 11 part series with several different romances along the way. I hope you'll join me, and my characters, for those adventures!

Thank you again for all your support!