Tolkien Fan Fiction
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| Chapter Two |
| The following few weeks steadily evolved into a standard pattern. Cissy undertook all the castatas training including of Éowyn, who was intrigued by the new weaponry. As Cissy, it transpired, needed no such reciprocal training from Éowyn, Éowyn offered to teach Lothíriel the famed Rohirric horseback fighting techniques, an offer which was accepted with enthusiasm and absorbed much of the time Lothíriel allocated to riding. Both Lothíriel and Cissy took it in turns to respond to those seeking cures for any ailments, but Lothíriel also spent several hours a day in the Record Room reading the historic accounts of the Kingdom and drafting proposals for Lord Delwine. Éomer hardly saw her during the daytime. Busy as he was with endless requests and adjudicating disagreements, he was becoming increasingly concerned with raids in the West-mark and the Gap of Rohan from Dunland, as well as the possible threat to The Wold from Easterling slavers. Both would need to be dealt with, and firmly. He had no appetite for more war, but he knew it was coming and his mood became increasingly grim. Supper was the only time during these overburdened days he looked forward to. It was the one time in the day that Lothíriel was always present, usually with Cissy, of whom he was becoming increasingly fond. While he found Cissy highly educated, intelligent and, unlike Lothíriel, calming, it was also true that he laughed more often when Lothíriel sat next to him. His mood would lift from even the darkest of places in her presence and she, for her part, found his company effortless in that she never had to explain anything to him twice, even the most complex concepts. He might not have quite Faramir’s extensive learning, but he was equally intelligent, and even more appealing, he understood her sense of humour completely. Éowyn watched their laughter with ever increasing hope. As the days progressed Éomer realised that the Main Hall seemed to be fuller of children than he had remembered it before, until after supper when they all disappeared at once. His innate curiosity piqued, he soon found his explanation when he followed them, and they led him down to a storeroom near the kitchens where he discovered Lothíriel with Cissy reciting the tale of King Théoden’s last ride, only this time ‘with all the voices’ and with Cissy acting some of the more dramatic sections with her. He watched from the side enchanted until Éowyn appeared at his elbow. He pulled her aside. ‘How long have they been doing this?’ he asked his sister. ‘Since the day after the first time she recited it in the hall. They pestered her so much she started to recite it to a small group of them in the leaky barn near the training ground, but then it rained and the cook suggested they came in here as so many of them were coming. She didn’t want to disturb us. I only found out myself yesterday morning when the cook’s daughter, Hildred, let it slip. I think we could let them use the Main Hall once a week on Mersday perhaps?’ Éowyn suggested. He readily agreed and went into the storeroom to listen to the rest of the tale with all the children. When Lothíriel acted out Éowyn’s slaying of the Witch-King, one little girl screamed and ran over to hide between Éomer’s long legs. He pulled over a sack of grain for him to sit on and set her on his knee where she stayed happily secure from any other frights. Lothíriel caught his eye and smiled widely. Her heart melted at the sight of this huge, brave man protecting this little one. Afterwards he walked her and Cissy up to their quarters. ‘This is very kind of you, especially when you must be exhausted,’ he said warmly. ‘Would you care to use the Great Hall on Mersday and anyone who would like to learn the tale would be welcome, or we can just allow the children if you prefer?’ he asked. ‘I think it’s important that your people understand their and your achievements, I’m happy to do this for you but if the adults also join I might have to make it less fun for the children, don’t you think?’ she supposed. ‘Not at all,’ he countered. ‘I think the adults would enjoy it as much if not more than the children. I know I certainly did, even if you did give me a bit of a gruff air,’ he laughed. ‘I was aiming for grim,’ she smiled cheekily. ‘I can imagine that you are very grim at such times…’ she started to say but caught her breath and looked up at him with a sudden serious expression on her face. ‘I cannot imagine… I do not want to…’ she stammered. ‘I cannot do what you do, I would never survive what you have survived,’ she said as they halted outside her quarters. He looked at her curiously, ‘Why do you say this?’ he asked her, aching to pull her closer to him. ‘You are all so much braver than me, you, Éowyn, Erkenbrand... You have all suffered so much… so much loss, and yet you have this remarkable strength to carry on. I don’t have that.’ She looked melancholy. She put her hand to his chest to say goodnight, turned and went through the doorway to their quarters, leaving Cissy to bow her head at Éomer and follow. There she goes again, he thought to himself as he stood in the empty hallway looking up at the painted ceiling, she comes down to earth to touch me only to release me and fly away. He sighed deeply in frustration and longing. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A few days later on a beautiful sunny day, Éowyn insisted that he took a break from his endless meetings and join the three ladies on a ride out to a particularly pretty village in the Westfold for its traditional and widely celebrated Founding Day Fair. He was only too glad to agree, he was after all King of all of Rohan and not just Edoras. And as the Fair always drew merchants from the whole region, even from as far as The Wold in the case of one enterprising man selling their famous cheeses, it was an excellent excuse to spend time amongst his people, the ordinary folk and not just his key commanders. It also provided Lothíriel with an opportunity to experience first-hand the potential for commercial activity within the realm as much as trade outside its borders. Éomer marvelled as he watched her chatting animatedly to each of the merchants about their general situation, making sure she purchased something from each stall. He had neither the interest nor the patience for the level of detail she unearthed from those around her, but he sensed the genuine warmth she felt for his people and their endeavours, and he witnessed how they in their turn responded enthusiastically to her ease and curiosity. He relished the simplicity of the moment, the warmth of the sun on his face, the excited chatter of the fair and he allowed the tension in his body and mind to ebb away as his love for Lothíriel seeped into his consciousness. He spied Cissy making a beeline for Lothíriel in some haste. Thinking something might have upset her, Éomer strode over ready to do battle on his guest’s behalf. ‘Is everything alright, Cissy?’ he asked her concerned. To his relief, Cissy’s face lit up in wonderment. ‘Most certainly, Sire,’ she replied. Éomer winced slightly. Such formality between them had long been dispensed with in private. Cissy seemed not to notice his discomfort and continued as soon as Lothíriel joined them. ‘The man from The Wold, the one selling cheeses… he thinks he may know the village I came from. He says my description would fit Handlend Vale. It feels right, Lothíriel. He mentioned the surrounding villages and their names all seem familiar.’ ‘But that’s wonderful, Cissy,’ Lothíriel exclaimed wrapping her friend in a joyful embrace. ‘I will send word to the Lord of that region, Cissy…’ Éomer interjected, pleased to contribute, ‘… and ask him to concentrate enquiries on those villages. I am sure we will find your birthplace soon.’ Lothíriel could tell that he was genuinely happy for her darling Cissy. As she glanced over to him, smiling in appreciation, her look of warmth took his breath away. In this uncharacteristically unguarded moment, anyone watching could not have mistaken the King’s feelings for the Lady of Dol Amroth. And unnoticed in the crowd, there were those paying close attention. |