:disclaimer: would it surprise you if i said that i still don't own this?
Chapter XXVII
Meduseld, Rohan
T.A. 3021
Éomer sighed. It was hard to believe that all of that had taken place four years ago, he mused as he took another sip of ale. So much had happened since he had last seen Lothíriel waving goodbye to him. The trade agreements that he had arranged with Prince Imrahil had fallen through merely a year later due to increased danger in Rohan and increased political tension in Gondor. The War had been fought, Éomer had become king, and hardly a day passed that he didn't think of the princess. When they had seen each other in Minas Tirith shortly after the Battle of the Pelennor, Amrothos had assured him that Lothíriel was safe and still unwed. That may have been the case two years ago, but Éomer was convinced that she had forgotten him since then. She had not even come to Éowyn and Faramir's wedding.
"Éomer," said Éowyn, bringing her brother out of his memories and back to the busy New Year's festivities, "there's someone here I want you to meet."
He let out an exasperated sigh. Éowyn had taken it upon herself to find Éomer a wife and continually thrust various ladies from both kingdoms (and once, one from Dale) at him in hopes of curing his apparent lack of interest in having an heir. Her fervor had doubled in recent months—no doubt in part due to the fact that she was now with child herself. He had tried several times to tell her about Lothíriel, but Éowyn was too busy with her own schemes to pay any attention.
"Must we do this again, Éowyn?" he asked with no small amount of annoyance.
"Come now, you'll never find a wife if you stay in your chair all night. And then how would you ever have an heir?"
Éomer let her pull him from his chair. "Who is she this time?"
"She's a bit younger than I, but I think you will like her," Éowyn said, ignoring her brother's question. "She's over by the dancers." She dragged him through the crowded halls, chattering about the girl as she went. Éomer tuned her out. "Ah, here we are," she said at last, stopping when they had reached a cluster of dark-haired women watching the many Rohirrim with interest.
"Gondorians," he muttered resignedly. "Always Gondorians. Éowyn, don't you think it would be better if I married one of our own people?" Éomer attempted to sneak away (he had no desire to socialize with five women at once), but Éowyn would not allow it.
"Nonsense," Éowyn replied. "You should marry the person you love; none other would be worth the pain."
And what if the person you love has forgotten all about you? Éomer thought to himself.
Éowyn moved to a girl wearing a dark green dress on the shoulder. "I found him," she whispered to the women. The ladies turned around, and Éomer nearly fell over in shock when he saw the face of the girl in green. "Éomer, this is Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth. Lothíriel, may I present to you my brother, Éomer-king of Rohan?"
"Westu Éomer-cyning hal," Lothíriel said in heavily-accented, but un-mangled Rohirric. "I trust all is well with you?" She smiled in amusement as Éomer choked.
"Mae govannen, Lothíriel," he answered after he regained his composure. "Well enough. But where is your husband, if I may ask? Or does he not give the king of Rohan enough credit to greet me himself?"
Lothíriel laughed at him. "You may ask, milord, but I could not tell you the answer to either question, for I have not met him myself. But believe me, my lord, the moment we meet, I shall ask him both questions."
Éomer grinned. "You had best do that. I do not want anyone undermining my kingship."
The ladies standing behind Lothíriel twittered with gossip. They vaguely remembered a man who looked similar to the one standing before them. Hadn't he visited Dol Amroth during Ethuil Mereth a few years ago? But surely he was not the new king! And what strange questions he had asked!
Éowyn stood beside her brother, terribly confused by the conversation he was having with her husband's cousin. Faramir, seeing the distressed look upon his wife's face, went to join her. The moment he saw the princess and king standing together, he grinned. He ushered Éowyn away to quietly explain the story. The White Lady glanced back at her brother and the princess and smiled. "They're perfect for each other," she whispered to Faramir.
"They are," he answered.
"You could have come sooner," Éomer said quietly as he led Lothíriel out to the steps of Meduseld.
"When?" Lothíriel turned to him. "Your uncle's funeral? I never met the man, though I am sure he was a great ruler. And you've been rebuilding your country for the past year and a half; I would have been a distraction—"
"A welcome distraction," he countered.
She snorted. "But a distraction nonetheless."
"I was afraid you had forgotten me."
"How could I ever forget you?" she asked. "You are the only man who was ever brave enough to refuse me."
"Brave enough?" he laughed. "Gods, Lothíriel, I was horridly afraid of you. You were bold and brazen and so amazingly beautiful." He looked at her sharply. "There were other men?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "A few. I had to entertain myself somehow."
"Surely you are not serious."
"Deadly serious." She tossed her head. "None of them were so restrained as you were. They all were after one thing. Power. They thought they could control me, but they were wrong of course. I kept my heart for you, though." She grinned at the stunned look on Éomer's face. "You are far too gullible, my lord. The men of Dol Amroth are frightened of me, with the exception of Erulehton and my brothers. They know me too well. I am the same as I ever was, alone, unwanted, and waiting." She pursed her lips together into a small pout and sniffed.
"Waiting for what?"
"You, of course."
"Why are you waiting for me?"
"You have to go to Dol Amroth."
"Why?" he asked, moving closer to her. "You are here, so why should I leave?"
"I believe it was you who promised to return to me, not the other way around, so I have to go back to Dol Amroth and wait for you to come get me…." She began to walk back inside but was stopped by an arm around her waist.
"You would not leave me to be the only man without a dancing partner tonight, would you?" Éomer asked.
"That depends," she answered.
"On what?"
"The kind of dance."
"And what sort of dance would convince you to stay?" He turned her so that she faced him.
A wide grin spread across her face, and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
Éomer laughed. "I think that can be arranged at some point, but first we must return to the hall."
"But I did not come here to stand in a smoky hall. I came to find someone."
"And who might that be?"
"A gentleman I met years ago—he was either brave enough to refuse me or too scared to do anything with me. I am not sure which. In any case, I love him, and I came to find him because he obviously was too afraid of my father to ask for me."
"Perhaps we can find him after I make my announcement."
"Whatever is this announcement for, if you do not mind my asking?" she asked, linking hands with him.
"I suspect my people—not to mention my sister—would like to know that I have chosen a wife at last."
"Oh? And who might she be?" Lothíriel asked innocently.
"A lady I met years ago—we were in love but were separated first by distance and then by the War. We only recently met again, and now I plan to make her mine forever."
"That sounds like a faerie tale," she said.
"It is."
:fin:
Translations:
westu hal: be thou well/well met
cyning: king
mae govannen: well met
fin: end
A/N: so there you have it, folks. the end. with a lot of throw-backs to other parts of the story. up next will be mais les yeux sont aveugles, a french take on our lovely couple. ok, not really. only the title's in french, because i named it after a line in le petit prince. it's still very much in draft form, so i don't know when it will actually be posted. it might be a while. updates on the story (as well as on baseball and other things) will be posted in my xanga, which is listed as my website in my bio. until then, thank you to everyone who has read this, and your reviews are always appreciated!
Replies:
faer little meg: lol..i think i understood most of your review. anyways, glad you liked the good-byes, i was afraid they would be a bit stilted.
capriceann hedican-kocur: nope, no sequel is in the works. as far as i can tell, there's nothing more to say about these two. i may go back sometime and write a ficlet about aela and erulehton (to give those two some closure), but i make no promises.
trixie: thank you! i hope you liked it!
quizzabella: as i told caprice, no sequel is planned, but if the muse calls, who am i to refuse it?
name1: thank you!
ladyarian: oh, but i can, and i have. and if you like, you can take amrothos as an ending-of-the-story present. my treat. just take care of him, would you? and let us know what he's up to!
lariren-shadow: thankies! hope you enjoyed the end!
starnat: faramir deserves to be happy. definitely.
blue eyes at night: what a lovely poem! thank you so much for sharing it! not that lothiriel ever paid much attention to its warning, but still…hope you liked the end!
lometari: i promised to wait until this week so people could get used to the idea of it ending. hope i didn't make you wait too long. thanks for the review!
wondereye: i have granted you your resolution. i'll let you fill in any blanks i might have left.