Part 147 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.

A/N: Inspired, oddly enough, by the movie "A Night with the King", because I thought the king was rather a wimp in it (despite his efforts at appearing manly).

Opinion

(Gondor - May, 2 IV)

"It truly is very sad, do you not think? I mean she virtually leads the man around by his nose! Who would have thought the great King of Rohan would be brought to his knees by a woman. How humiliating!" The second man chuckled, somewhat uneasily, at the remarks, and the two moved away. They did not notice Lothiriel concealed in shadows nearby, nor glimpse the troubled look upon her face at their words.

Did all of Gondor think that? And the Eorlingas as well? That she had…had turned Eomer into a weak and submissive man, had somehow emasculated him? The thought horrified her. She had no wish to undermine who he was, certainly not in the eyes of others. He was a fine and great king, and a renowned warrior. Had she somehow tarnished his image by her behavior?

With a sigh of discouragement, she moved back into the busy flow of the Merethrond. A headache was building that would not withstand all the noise and confusion. Perhaps it was best that she withdraw for this night. It took a moment to locate her husband in the room, and she worked her way toward him through the crowd. He was obviously enjoying a lively conversation with the King and Queen of Gondor, and she paused nearby waiting for him to notice her.

As he did, a grin split his face, though it faded slightly at her expression that seemed a bit strained. "My lord, I believe I shall call it a night, and check on our son before turning in."

Instantly Eomer responded from his heart. "So soon? I had hoped for another dance with you!"

Lothiriel swallowed hard and then lowered her eyes. Consciously choosing her words, she spoke clearly and distinctly, "As you wish, my lord."

Eomer blinked at her response, and nodded uncertainly, though he answered, "Thank you." There was the briefest pause before he added, "The music is beginning. Shall we dance now, if our friends will excuse us?"

"Certainly!" Aragorn assured, his eyes watching the two of them and sensing something was amiss.

Drawing his bride with him, Eomer led the way onto the floor. These sedate Gondorian dances provided much opportunity for conversation, but not in close enough quarters for them to be very private. Consequently, he held in check the questions assailing his mind and asked benignly, "Are you unwell, my love? You seem…out of sorts."

They moved away from one another briefly, following the dance's pattern, and as they came together once more she replied quietly, "I am fine, merely tired."

Eomer's brow knit and when next he approached her he suggested, "If you do not feel like dancing, we may do so another time. I did not intend to press you to it if you were not inclined."

Noncommittally, Lothiriel replied, "I do not mind doing as you ask."

Now Eomer was certain something was wrong. Lothiriel was many things, but this colorless, compliant creature was not the woman he knew so well. He would wager there was more than tiredness at the root of this behavior, and he did not intend to go to bed tonight without discovering what that reason was.

As Lothiriel seemed determined to continue, he did not force the issue of stopping before the dance ended. As soon as the final notes faded, he offered his arm. "Will you attend me?" he asked.

She nodded and lowered her eyes, taking his arm. "Certainly, my lord."

Guiding her over to their hosts, Eomer bid them goodnight and then led his wife from the room in silence.

Once they were alone in their room, Lothiriel dropped her hand from his arm and moved to the nursery to check on Elfwine. While she was gone, Eomer washed and got into his nightclothes, then sprawled on the bed awaiting her return. As soon as she entered, he rose and went to her, catching her shoulders. "What is this about, my love?"

"What do you mean?" she asked evasively, attempting to slip from his grasp.

He held her firm with one hand, and used the other to lift her chin. "I mean this meek and mild person who has replaced my wife. Where is my love, my Lothiriel – the one full of fire and spirit? I want her back." He grinned teasingly at her, but his words did not have the desired effect, and the troubled look yet haunted her eyes.

Now she did pull away from him and moved toward the dressing table, but after removing her necklace, she plopped dejectedly down on the bench and slumped in dismay. Eomer was beginning to be worried. Perhaps she was unwell and he should summon a healer….

"Eomer," she began softly, then hesitated. Finally, with determination, she pressed on, "I am sorry if…if I have belittled you in others' eyes."

"What?" he blinked, not quite grasping what she had said. "What in the world are you talking about, Lothiriel?"

"I…I heard some men talking," she confessed. "They…they say I lead you about by the nose and that the King of Rohan is no longer what he once was – because of me." A slight sob escaped, despite her efforts to contain it.

Anger flared in Eomer's eyes and he reached down to draw Lothiriel to her feet. Turning her to face him, he said firmly, "If you lead me about, it is only because I choose to be led, my love. And it is quite true I am no longer what I once was, because what I once was was a consummate warrior who thought of little else but war and destruction. Now I am filled with your love, and thus a tremendous desire to build and grow. My warrior days are not entirely past, and there will still be times that part of me must surface, but the remainder of the time I do not want to be fearsome and destructive. And I am grateful to the woman who helped bring me to this point in my life. I would never choose to have anyone else by my side, and I would not change a single thing about her, or about the way she treats me."

Eomer was not a man given to eloquent speech, but his words made Lothiriel gasp with delight. "Are you certain? I would not have anyone think ill of you because of me. I could change –"

"You will change nothing!" Eomer said firmly, planting a kiss on her nose. "The king decrees it and he fully expects his queen to adhere to his wishes in the matter! Is that clear?"

She gave him a watery smile and he pulled her close, kissing her soundly. As the embrace ended, he drew back slightly and murmured, "And if you would be so kind as to point out the gentlemen you heard speaking, on the morrow I shall show them just how pitiful I have become since meeting you! My temper, at least, they will find unaltered!"

Lothiriel slid her arms around his waist and clung tightly to him. "I do hope you will invite your queen to be there for the occasion. I should not like to miss that discussion!"

THE END

4/19/07

End note: It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.