Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 10 |
| Chapter Ten |
| The Fair would begin in earnest at noon and there was an expectant buzz of excitement in the air. Éowyn could tell that there had been another shift in the relationship between her brother and her friend when they both eventually made it downstairs, but she could not be sure what it was. She just wanted to bash both their heads together and tell them to get on with it. Her brother had always been somewhat aloof around attractive women, ever since their father had caught him not long before his twelfth birthday kissing their older cousin, and not in an innocent way from what she had understood when she was older. Their furious father, Éomund, had apparently given Éomer a stern talking to. Éomer had never been quite the same since. Their father had been killed only days after the incident and she always felt that he had equated the two experiences so adversely that he had found it very difficult to feel at ease with women after that. But he was so different around Lothíriel, and he had been from the moment he had sat next to her at their first dinner. Perhaps with the war won, he felt free to explore love and now that he was King, he had an obligation to find a Queen and the strategic convenience of such an alliance with Dol Amroth was clear. The powerful undercurrent of emotion that was always present between them suggested a deeper bond, giving Éowyn hope they would be able to find a way to come together as she had with Faramir. She decided to seek advice privately from her wise aunt and suggested that Éomer took Lothíriel out into the town for lunch and to meet them afterwards at the Fair in the main square. Delwine had already left to do some chores, which meant that it was just the two of them who headed out to the delights of Aldburg’s famed Founding Day Fair. Initially somewhat subdued, her mood lightened as Éomer took Lothíriel on a tour of his favourite sites of the town. As he explained its history, she became readily engaged in his stories. She was fascinated most by his personal connection to the places he showed her, such as where he first learnt to ride, who his friends had been in the town, what escapades they had had. It appeared that as a boy he had been very naughty and fun-loving, a real prankster, never malicious but quite inventive as Lothíriel found out. He discovered that she appreciated the wit behind many of his adventures and they found themselves laughing easily together at his remembrance of his childhood stories. They were walking through the meadows to the bottom of the town where he had shown her where he had first learned to shoot arrows and practice swordsmanship, when Lothíriel became suddenly pensive. ‘How many of the boys you played with survived the wars, Éomer?’ she asked tentatively. ‘Not as many as I would have liked but a fair few,’ he answered reflectively. Lothíriel looked up at him hesitantly as though she was going to ask another question but lowered her gaze and walked on. ‘Why?’ he asked her, taking her hand and pulling her back towards him. ‘I… I’m not good at dealing with loss. I don’t know why; I suppose I lack the courage…’ She took her hand away from his. ‘I have to find the strength to face it. It is strange. I can’t quite describe it to you, but I feel it here somehow…, in this town. There is something here, Éomer, that calls to me. I cannot explain it.’ Éomer gazed down at her as she struggled to understand herself, wanting to take her in his arms and give his strength to her as well as his love. He saw her close her eyes and breathe deeply as though drawing the strength she needed from the very earth on which she stood. As he took a step forward to embrace her, she placed her hand on his chest. ‘This is such a happy day, I shouldn’t…’ she sighed. She opened her eyes and said determinedly, ‘The weather is beautiful, the mood is cheerful and you…’ she smiled, twirling herself around him, ‘… you should be taking me to see the dances and the plays that I believe will start after lunch. And I am famished. I quite liked the look of that roasted pig that they were serving outside, assuming the ‘King of Rohan’ isn’t so stuck up that he won’t eat with his people!’ she teased, and she ran off with him roaring after her. As they sat down to tuck into the succulent pork on the wooden table and benches outside a number of men and some older women came up to Éomer to give greetings and news of those he had known in the town. Inevitably there were stories of loss, which caused Éomer to glance at Lothíriel, who simply returned his gaze empathetically. They had finished eating and Éomer was entrenched with a group of men swapping war stories when Lothíriel rose suddenly and cried out to him, ‘I’ve just seen someone I know! I’ll come back and find you,’ and off she dived into the crowd. Éomer was not worried. She was more than capable of taking care of herself and being so tall and dark-haired she would be easy enough for him to spot if she got lost. He only became uneasy when almost half an hour had passed and she still had not returned, so he bade farewell to his former comrades-at-arms and went in search. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- He walked everywhere; he could not see her. He was beginning to feel a little anxious. A large crowd was gathered in front of a wooden stage erected between two large wagons in the main square, but she was not amongst the audience, not unless she was sitting on the floor. The audience was already laughing uproariously at the opening scenes of what he recognised as one of his favourite comedies ‘The Knave of Pelargir’, in which the notorious womaniser Sandor is bested by the comely and astute widow Jacetta in his nefarious pursuit of her beautiful daughter. But he did not have time to stay and watch his favourite play, he needed to find Lothíriel. He stopped in his tracks when he heard her voice, clearly and playfully over the heads of the crowd. ‘My dear daughter, good judgement comes from experience, although admittedly much experience comes from bad judgement. I do not wish to keep you from gaining wisdom, only to gain it by observing the bad judgement of others, not succumbing to it yourself. Can you not see that the man’s stupidity is not accidental, he makes a trade of it!’ She couldn’t, he thought to himself, she just couldn’t…. There was no mistaking her tall, slender figure in a dress which was too small for her height. What by Béma was she doing on the stage, he thought incredulously. He laughed to himself. Had he not learned by now that Lothíriel did not conform to normal standards of behaviour? He had to admit to himself he was shocked, but on reflection all he could do was to remain standing where he was and enjoy the show. And it was a triumph of a show. Word had got around and the crowd watching around the makeshift stage seemed to keep growing. He spotted his aunt Morwyn with Delwine and Éowyn, who had secured a prime viewing spot from the balcony of one of the houses overlooking the large square, laughing throughout at the performance. It was not quite the same play as he remembered it. The language and actions were far more ribald than his recollection, only adding to the hilarity. Lothíriel was clearly enjoying herself immensely sparring her wit against the actor who played the part of the knave, Sandor, and there was definitely some off-script interplay. They both dominated the square. When Sandor finally falls for the widow and she accepts him, the duet they sang to conclude the play touched the hearts of all around them. Éomer was waiting nervously for the final flourish of the play which usually ended in a passionate kiss between Sandor and Jacetta. He was relieved to see that Jacetta rather demurely rested her head on Sandor’s shoulder to an explosion of applause and cheering. The audience was enthusiastic in its appreciation of the performance but eventually the actors were allowed off the stage. Éomer made his way to the back of the wagons where he could see throngs of men and women eagerly waiting the actors’ descent from behind the stage. He spied Lothíriel appear from one of the wagons, changed back into her original dress, which was of far greater style and quality than would be expected of a travelling player, talking rapidly with the actor who played Sandor and somewhat nervously looking around for a suitable escape route. Quickly understanding her dilemma, the man announced loudly to the crowd that his players would be happy to take drinks with well-wishers in the Golden Horse Inn down one of the streets off the square and made to lead the way. With those gathered around distracted by his booming voice, Lothíriel found a gap in the crowd to make her escape. She proved so adept at disappearing from view more quickly than Éomer had anticipated that he lost sight of her but he surmised she was likely to be homeward bound, a route that would take her up past the Old Clock Tower in the opposite direction to the Golden Horse, so he quickened his pace and headed that way. His decision was rewarded by the sight of her laughing merrily with Éowyn and Delwine halfway up the street behind a wagon. Spying his aunt Morwyn walking more slowly to join the group just ahead of him, he quickly caught up with her, slowing his pace to match hers as they made their way to join them arm in arm. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ‘Mithriel!’ a voice called out behind Éomer and his aunt, though neither paid much attention even when they recognised the caller as the actor who had played the part of Jacetta’s daughter’s other suitor. A finely chiselled yet expressive dark-haired young man of no more than twenty-five, he had held his own admirably and was certain to become an actor of great renown. ‘Mithriel!’ he called out again. ‘Will you not come and join us at the tavern?’ Only when Lothíriel turned to greet the man with some trepidation did Éomer’s protective instincts bring the actor into sharp focus. He noted how Lothíriel’s demeanour changed from slight awkwardness to wariness as soon as Éomer came into view behind the man. ‘Noliman, I’m afraid I can’t. I am expected elsewhere….’ She had glanced briefly at Éomer when he brought his aunt round to the side of Delwine and Éowyn and the four of them stood around her in a watchful semi-circle as she spoke to the young actor. In his turn Noliman studied the four tall noble Rohirrim closely, his sharp mind making the necessary connections quickly. Showing his comprehension elegantly, he bowed low to them all. ‘My mistake, my Lady,’ he said with emphasis on the last two words. ‘Éomer King, my Lady Éowyn, it is a privilege to meet you. I recognise you from your time in Minas Tirith. My Lord, my Lady,’ he nodded to Lady Morwyn and Delwine. He addressed himself to Lothíriel looking somewhat pained and disappointed, ‘I understand who you are now, why they never stop talking about you…’ ‘Please don’t,’ Lothíriel interrupted her voice constricted with fear. ‘Don’t…’ Noliman nodded silently his understanding. He did not want to cause her any embarrassment. She flashed him a look of thanks but also of regret. As she took a few steps towards him and made to take his hand, a shrill voice screamed from the side. ‘Get away from her, Noli, get away. She will kill you just like she did my brother!’ Noliman whipped round, they all did, except Lothíriel, who remained exactly where she was looking down the street into the distance. She kept her back to them all. Éomer went to stand next to her putting himself between her and her accuser, a dark-haired young woman holding the hand of a boy of about ten. She would have been quite beautiful, that was still apparent, her lovely face only marred by delicate scarring around her eyes. Those observing her now judged the poor woman be at least partially if not fully blind. But this was not their concern. This unknown woman had forcefully accused their friend of something none there could accept. Noliman was the first to speak. ‘Sandrinë, your parents would never talk about her as they do if that were true. They would never have accepted her on the stage with them. They love her almost as much as they love you.’ The woman’s face contorted in grief and bitterness. ‘They love her more. I may not be able to see much but you, you are all so blind to her evil,’ she said ferociously. Lothíriel stood upright, not moving. ‘You are all in love with her beauty - the beautiful, delightful, hilarious Mithriel - as was my brother, until he caught her fucking another man. She admitted it, even to her own father and brothers. I know I can’t see well but my hearing is excellent and unlike you, Noli, I was there. Wasn’t I, Mithriel? I was there when you stuck your dagger into his heart, the heart you had already broken,’ Sandrinë ended viciously. More townsfolk had gathered round to watch the spectacle. Éomer was unsure of what to do, the sense of shock felt by all around her was profound. He could barely bring himself to turn to her and say, ‘Lothíriel?’ ‘Lothíriel? Lothíriel? Sandrinë parroted loudly, before the true import of that name dawned on her. A realisation that finally gave her understanding. ‘That’s your real name, isn’t it? By the Valar. Ha, that would explain everything. It would explain the money we get every year – blood money. You’re Lothíriel of Dol Amroth – Looney Lothi, that’s what everyone called you behind your back. It’s you. It explains it all!’ Sandrinë savoured her moment of victory. All those years of not fully understanding what she had witnessed and now, she had the truth. ‘They say you go into a trance and you don’t know that you’ve killed someone, but you damn well knew it was my brother. I heard you scream his name. You said he attacked you but that’s not true. He wasn’t anywhere near you. I could judge exactly how far away from him you were. You were always so much faster than him. Even if he had attacked you, you could have run, but you, you didn’t. You threw your dagger straight into his heart. Why? Why?’ the increasingly distraught woman cried out. ‘To stop him from telling everyone of your debauchery? You evil bitch!’ ‘Enough now, Sandrinë…’ Noliman remonstrated with the raging woman, taking her by her shoulders to prevent her from attacking Lothíriel physically. Sandrinë in no mood to be side-tracked continued to scream her accusations. ‘Then your damn fool brother jumped out of the window to come and help you, only he broke his leg in the fall and then he was screaming. I heard it all. And my stupid parents believed you over me,’ she shouted in sheer hatred. ‘I suppose the mighty Prince of Dol Amroth wouldn’t let his only daughter pay the price for murder,’ she ended venomously. ‘It wasn’t murder, Sandri,’ Lothíriel had turned at last to face her accuser. ‘Lothi,’ Éowyn said warning her not to say any more. ‘It was self-defence…’ Lothíriel started only to be interrupted. ‘He was not close enough to you! You could have run.’ Sandrinë said emphatically. ‘Don’t stand there and deny to me that you didn’t kill him…’ ‘I did,’ Lothíriel replied steadily with tears forming in her eyes. ‘He was armed with a sword, Sandri. I had no choice. He was too quick. I couldn’t stop him any other way.’ ‘He loved you more than anything and you are nothing but a whore,’ she screamed. ‘He caught you together in the act itself. By the Valar the rumours are true, you did enjoy your time with the pirates...’ Lothíriel’s face went white and she was barely in control of herself. She was breathing heavily and visibly shaking. ‘Sandrinë,’ Noli said commandingly, ‘Stop this. Someone fetch Vadamir and his wife Hella, now! There is another explanation to this. I don’t believe this version of events.’ ‘Nor do I,’ Éomer’s voice boomed out, as he motioned to one of the men he knew in the crowd to find Vadamir, the man he surmised had been the lead actor on the stage. ‘Ask her, ask her. I know what I heard my brother say that night. I want to hear you deny this to my face, you bitch. I want you to tell me I did not hear him scream how he had seen you screwing your lover under the pier and had followed you directly from there. He called you filth, he threatened you. ‘You can’t have him,’ he said, ‘I will tell everyone about you screwing each other.’ That’s what he said and that’s why you killed him, to stop him from telling everyone what a whore you are! I heard you shout his name, you were so far from him. Vandan wasn’t dangerous, he could never have reached you but you just threw your dagger straight into his heart. Don’t you dare deny this is what I heard.’ Lothíriel was staring at the woman in pity and regret. ‘That is what you heard, Sandrinë,’ she said clearly. ‘Lothíriel, this is madness,’ Éowyn intervened, ‘I don’t believe this is what happened. This woman is deranged or lying.’ Lothíriel took a sharp intake of breath, ‘Sandrinë speaks the truth as she heard it, Éowyn, and I will not have her maligned. She has suffered enough,’ she said sadly. ‘Éomer, Éowyn. I can stay with you no longer. I will ride to Edoras and pick up my belongings if I may and I will go to meet Finglor in Helm’s Deep as we have arranged. I will then leave with him to the North. I warned you that my… my… reputation was damaged, and it was not wise to be seen with me. Well, now you know why. Thank you for being such good hosts.’ Lothíriel turned to face downwards to the view from the town across the plain below and let out a penetrating call similar to the one she had made in Edoras to call Finglor. ‘Lothíriel, Finglor is not here, and I promised not only him, but your father, Tuor and Faramir that I would look after you. You remain under my protection and I cannot let you leave. I do not accept this version of events and I must insist that you stay with us,’ Éomer demanded. Lothíriel turned to him slowly and looked deep into his eyes with an intensity that pierced through him. She closed her eyes and came to a decision. ‘Are you arresting me, Éomer?’ she asked. ‘No! Of course not,’ he exclaimed vehemently, stepping forward towards her visibly shocked. She side-stepped away from him moving nimbly past Noliman towards the wagon. They could hear a clattering sound becoming louder and a roar of cries coming up the streets as people in the town called out in disbelief at what they were seeing. Lothíriel turned to Éomer and said calmly, ‘Then I must go.’ The crowd around them parted quickly as Geldsheen’s enormous form appeared, as incongruent in the town setting as he was magnificent in the open fields. Éomer moved to restrain her but Lothíriel was the quicker as she leapt from the wheel rim of the wagon, just out of his reach and on to the Mearas’s back. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Éomer swore as he saw her disappearing down the street. He shouted to Delwine to get their horses, but Éowyn countermanded him. ‘We won’t catch her at Edoras, Éomer, but we can track her once she’s left there, and you’ll need me to be there, brother. We won’t find her until after it’s dark. Delwine can stay here to speak with Vadamir and Hella with Aunt Morwyn. We do not have time to argue.’ He regarded his sister with respect. ‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘You are right. We’ll go together.’ He was speaking loudly over the shouting match underway between Noliman and Sandrinë but they both turned sharply when they heard her say something about Galador. ‘ ‘Was Galador there, Sandrinë?’ Éowyn asked before her brother, whom she could see was not well-disposed towards the young woman, had the chance to interrogate her. ‘Galador was her lover,’ Sandrinë spat out ‘…not that she would admit it at first. She just denied and denied he had anything to do with it, but he was the man my brother had seen her with. He told me when he went after her, when I asked him what had upset him.’ ‘What were his exact words, Sandrinë? Do you remember his exact words? It’s important,’ stressed Éowyn. ‘Of course I remember! When he caught up with her he was shouting, ‘I saw you fucking Galador… How dare you?’ That’s what he said. I had met him on his way to the Palace from the gardens. He told me he had seen them from the rose garden which overlooks the pier. I know you think my sight is not good enough to be sure of what was happening, but I knew the path to the Palace well enough to follow him, even if he was faster than me, so I was not that far behind him. I heard everything perfectly clearly.’ Noliman was shaking his head in frustration. ‘You know why that is impossible, don’t you?’ he said meaningfully, addressing himself to Éowyn and Éomer. ‘Yes, we know…’ answered the King. Delwine also nodded his comprehension. ‘Both of you go after her,’ he advised. ‘I will find out more from Vadamir and follow you to Edoras tonight.’ Needing no further encouragement, Éowyn and Éomer sped off to the house, leaving Delwine to await Vadamir and Hella with Lady Morwyn. They were not left waiting long. The distinguished figure of the actor who had played Sandor strode purposefully towards them together with a very attractive red-haired lady with her arm in a splint, followed by a group of interested onlookers. On seeing his daughter still held closely by Noliman, surrounded by an audience, he paused, a vision of what might have been playing in his mind. He had been well-informed as to what had just passed and pity for his only surviving child tempered his words to her. ‘Sandrinë, I know what you heard but please believe us when we tell you that Lothíriel was not at fault for what happened to your brother. There’s much we did not tell you and we still cannot tell you,’ he declared in his clear penetrating voice. ‘They paid you off to say that. I know who she is now, Father. I realise now where all our money comes from, why we have had the life we have had since then,’ she shouted at him. ‘No, my child, no,’ he said gently to his daughter. ‘Come, we need to explain’. He took her by the hand from Noliman, while his wife put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder to comfort her. Vadamir turned to the crowd and announced so all could hear, ‘There’s much to explain but whatever has been said here today I would like all to understand that we, my wife Hella and I, do not hold Lady Lothíriel responsible for our son’s death. No money in the world would stop us from decrying vengeance if we felt that was due. But it is not. The truth is tragic, but it is a private matter for my family and hers only. This is one act of drama that has no place on such a stage. Nor in idle gossip,’ he emphasised. Widely revered in Aldburg, not just for her royal status but for her many good works and wise counsel to the city elders, Lady Morwyn discreetly asked the principal actors of this drama to accompany her and Delwine to her house away from all onlookers. Her calm actions and compassion towards the still defiant woman appeased the crowd’s need for immediate resolution. They trusted her to make sure that the truth would be uncovered. They had seen a Mearas answer Lothíriel’s call, into the very heart of the city and no Mearas would allow one of evil heart to ride it. They felt reassured. Lady Morwyn would get to the bottom of this affair and a just ending would ensue. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lady Morwyn settled her guests into her parlour and asked for tea and fortified wine to be served. Vadamir on tasting the wine smiled knowingly. ‘This comes from the Lothring Estate of Dol Amroth, one of the very best producers. You have excellent taste, my Lady. I thank you.’ Morwyn bowed her head graciously. ‘And you are most knowledgeable. Are you familiar with the that area?’ she asked astutely. ‘I am indeed. My family were fortunate enough to have resided there many years until recently.’ Sandrinë was sitting next to her father looking rebellious at such seemingly inconsequential pleasantries. Her mother, Hella, was watching her with great sadness in her eyes and it was she who broke through the exchange. ‘Might I know exactly what was said today? We were given a rather garbled explanation on our way over to you so it would help to understand exactly what was said,’ she asked. After Delwine’s detailed re-telling, Hella stood up and paced the room in thought. ‘There’s much we would like to tell you but it’s clear that she has made her decision to continue to protect one we feel is not deserving of this. We cannot go against her wishes, we swore to her we would never tell,’ she said resolutely. Lady Morwyn intervened diplomatically, ‘Would you be able to tell us how you came to know Lothíriel and her family?’ she asked kindly. Exchanging glances, Hella nodded for Vadamir to take up the telling of it, while she took his place beside to their daughter. ‘We had put on a play for the court of Denethor in the spring of 3012. We did not know that Lothíriel had been present. We saw of course Prince Imrahil in the audience, you could not fail to notice one so handsome and so tall. Faramir and Boromir were both there as were Lothíriel’s three brothers. They were all noticeable in positions of privilege. Lothíriel was not with them. But it seems that she was there, hidden away. This was just over two years after her abduction. We had had a hugely successful run. Prince Imrahil kindly invited us to perform in Dol Amroth in the winter when it is milder in that region than the rest of Gondor, but we were to tour other parts of Gondor for the rest of the summer and Rohan in autumn as we had done in years past.’ Delwine interrupted briefly, ‘I remember you coming to Aldburg. You put on The Lovers’ Curse. It was quite thrilling.’ Vadamir inclined his head in thanks and continued. ‘We left Minas Tirith for the towns of Lossarnach and Lebennin. When we pitched up for our first night, we discovered this young, dark chestnut-haired girl hidden away in one of the wagons. We had no idea who she was, she simply told us that she was not wanted where she came from. She had heard that we were bound for Rohan in the autumn and that she was seeking passage there. She would make herself useful to us to pay for her way,’ Vadamir paused. ‘We had no way of knowing who she was or even how old she was. She told us she was seventeen. She was beautiful, she could sing, she could play any instrument you put in front of her, she knew all the plays already. She even showed me some plays she had written herself. Well, you all know what she can do. If I tell you that one of the plays she showed me she had written became the play you saw us perform today you will understand that letting her stay with us was the easiest decision we ever made. She remained with us the whole summer. It was a remarkable time. She is a natural on the stage. There isn’t a part she cannot make real.’ ‘She pushed us away from you! Vandan hated her. You both became obsessed with her. It was all about Mithriel. We became nothing to you, Vandan and I,’ shouted Sandrinë who had become increasingly restless. ‘That’s not true, Sandri, that’s not true,’ her mother answered. ‘It was the first time that Vandan had become normal since the orc attack. You forget what he was like. We protected you from the worst of his outbursts. That summer Lothi was with us was the calmest he had ever been. She was so kind and so patient with him. She of all people understood the pain his mind was in. My apologies,’ she said turning to Delwine and Morwyn, ‘we should explain more of the history as it has relevance.’ She stood up and started to pace the room again. ‘Years before, we had been touring up near Cair Andros and on our way back through North Ithilien. We had been told that the way was safe, especially as we had joined another group of travellers. We were just settling the wagons to make camp for the night when we were attacked by a band of orcs, Vandan was about ten and Sandrinë four. We only survived because Boromir came with archers and slaughtered the orcs but not before many of our group had been butchered, including my sister and her son, who was himself only twelve and very close to Vandan. He died trying to protect Vandan and Sandrinë who were with them in another wagon. Sandrinë was severely injured but Vandan, who had always been a sensitive child, was so traumatised by what he had seen, he never really recovered.’ Sandrinë had been very quiet as she absorbed her mother’s words. ‘Sandri, it was only once we got to Dol Amroth that Vandan’s relationship with Lothíriel soured because of his jealousy, that all came later…’ her mother continued. Vadamir sighed. ‘That summer, it couldn’t last, of course. Her shadow tracked us down eventually,’ he said dolefully. ‘Her shadow?’ Lady Morwyn enquired. ‘Finglor, I assume.’ Delwine interjected. ‘Yes, at least that is what she calls him’, continued Vadamir. ‘We still refer to him as her shadow. We first realised that someone was watching over her when we heard him singing to her. His voice is truly unique. Lothíriel has the most beautiful female voice I have ever heard, but Finglor’s…. Well, she would go to meet him after the performances and sometimes stay out most of the night. We assumed he was her lover and what could we say, she was not our child, we had no rights to her. And then as autumn approached, we were in Pelargir, just camped outside. We had had five days of performances there already and were due to leave the next day to make for Rohan. We had left the children and most of the players in lodgings in the town, while Lothíriel, Hella and I packed up the wagons and stayed in them overnight. All of a sudden at dawn, we were surrounded by the Swan Knights, about twenty of them and Prince Imrahil himself was banging on the door of our wagon, shouting for Lothíriel to come out. She came out of the other wagon like a Queen. Slam, went the door, bringing it off its hinges by the force she used. She just stood there, I can see her now, in her dark red dress, glowering magnificently at her father. “Father,” she goes most imperiously, “might I suggest that you send the Swan Knights away, they are a little superfluous, don’t you think. I am here out of choice and out of choice I will stay with them, if they will have me.” Well, we were terrified. Of course, we knew the story of Lothíriel and her mother, we understood at that moment who she was. The horror of our situation: we had been harbouring a run-away princess and abetting her lover! Oh, the row they had…’ Vadamir put his hands to his forehead at the memory. ‘Prince Imrahil had sent the Swan Knights away, but I doubt they were out of earshot. I think the whole of Pelargir must have heard them. When he made a move to physically drag her away, she drew a dagger on him and I swear, she would have used it. And then, of course, if you’ve met him, you will know this, Finglor appeared out of nowhere. “Enough!” he cried, with such force that both father and daughter stopped in their tracks.’ Vadamir enacted out the scene in full. ‘He took them both into our wagon and we couldn’t hear more of what exactly was said, but there was more shouting, some sobbing and long silences. Eventually we were called in. Prince Imrahil was calm and collected. He seemed very relieved. Lothíriel by contrast was not so happy. She put a brave face on it, but we could tell she was distraught when she came to sit next to Hella for comfort. I am sorry Sandrinë that we kept all this from you, but it was part of our promise to Prince Imrahil,’ he said, turning to caress his daughter’s hair in supplication. ‘Imrahil was charming. He thanked us for looking after his daughter so well and invited us to reside permanently in Dol Amroth under his protection and to open a theatre there. He said war was coming, he had heard of the orc attack on us a few years before and feared that travelling troupes would become increasingly vulnerable. He told us that Lothíriel wanted more than anything to continue to write plays and as long as she wrote under my name, he would be happy for her to have the opportunity to work with me on that, but obviously she would no longer be performing with us. Naturally we accepted. Everything he had said was true, we had become very worried ourselves about the situation. However, I fear Lothíriel only accepted the situation for us, to ensure our safety and our future. We realise that now…’ Vadamir hanged his head in penance at her sacrifice. ‘She was so upset, she insisted on travelling back to Dol Amroth from Pelargir with us, not her father. She had set her heart on Rohan and I believe she felt she was going back almost into a prison. But for us, it was everything we had ever dreamed of. Imrahil gave us a building, a whole building, for us to convert into a theatre and living quarters….’ Vadamir was transported back to this dream life they had so wanted, and his face lit up with the memory of it. ‘But it was awful for Lothíriel,’ his wife took over the story. ‘Finglor had not been part of the arrangement. It seems there were certain family members who objected vehemently to his presence in Dol Amroth, as her mother had done. She had taken that especially badly. It has taken us years to understand their relationship. They are not, nor ever have been lovers, not in the sense most people understand it. What they have transcends anything I have ever seen. Once we were in Dol Amroth and without him, we noticed such a change in her. Oooh, there was a malignant atmosphere at the Palace, which was very much set against her. It was very hard to put your finger on it…’ she thought back pensively. ‘But we were having a wonderful time,’ she continued. ‘Don’t you remember it, Sandrinë? And how happy Vandan was to be there? He was very handsome, just like his father,’ Vadamir smiled fondly at his wife. ‘He was about eighteen and he was able to make friends of his own age for the first time. It was hard on you, Sandri, and we knew that. Without him to take you around, it was difficult for you to get out. But Lothíriel came to see you often, dressed as a boy, as she preferred, just so she could take you out. You never realised, did you? She said that it would be worse for you to be seen with her as no one liked her in Dol Amroth but if she came in this disguise, she could at least help you to find your way around. She called herself Brandir. You never knew that was her, did you?’ Sandrinë had looked startled and had opened her mouth to say something but decided against. She just hanged her head looking increasingly miserable. Her mother began again more contemplatively. ‘We were so busy setting up the new theatre we were not paying enough attention to either of our children. We had not noticed that Vandan was beginning to behave strangely again. He had been so normal since Lothíriel had come into our lives. We realise now, of course, that he had fallen in love, but it was not with Lothíriel, Sandrinë. He never loved her in that way, because, and I know you are going to find this very difficult to accept or understand…’ she paused, finding it difficult to say the words. ‘Because it wasn’t a woman he had fallen in love with, it was a man…’ Noliman finished for her. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- All eyes turned to Noliman as he looked back at them unabashed. He turned to Vadamir. ‘We didn’t exactly meet by chance when you came to Minas Tirith to see Lothíriel that time… Galador brought you to see our play at my request. We had become close friends. While I am not that way inclined myself, many of my best friends are. A good number of them were part of the entertainment in honour of Prince Ottakar and I met Galador through them. He had seen me act in a play previously, which he had admired. When I told him that I had wanted to be a performer ever since seeing the great Vadamir on stage in Minas Tirith as a child and that my life’s ambition was to find him again, persuade him to start touring again and let me join his troupe now that the world had changed and would need entertaining, he told me of your impending visit and arranged for us to meet. And here we all are. But I had also heard of his friendship with the infamous Lothíriel and when I asked him about it, he became angry. He told me that whatever I hear about her that is scandalous is false. I thought he would never speak to me again! One of the boys, a man from Dol Amroth, came over to warn me that something happened in Dol Amroth that she took the blame for to protect one of their sort, the punishment for men loving men having become increasingly severe in Gondor under Denethor. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but she was adored by all the men of that persuasion in Dol Amroth and beyond as a result. She is… um… somewhat iconic in their world…’ ‘But there was no one else there but her and her brothers, of that I am sure,’ Sandrinë cut in. ‘Her brothers, you say?’ Lady Morwyn said her sharp eyes narrowing. ‘How do you know they were her brothers when you didn’t even know her as Lothíriel?’ she asked pointedly. ‘Because she ordered the one who hadn’t hurt himself jumping out of the window to ‘go and get Father here, only our Father, no one else’. But he must have arrived after hearing the screams as I didn’t hear his presence in the garden beforehand,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Or he was already there in the garden and he was the one being addressed by your brother,’ Delwine suggested. ‘You see, my dear, Galador is not interested in women. He is Lothíriel’s best friend, yes, but he is very much only a friend. It wasn’t Lothíriel your brother saw with Galador, of that you may be certain.’ Turning to Lady Morwyn he continued, ‘It would explain why Lothíriel would prefer to have everyone believe it was her who had been caught in the act with a man rather than one of her brothers and also why she was so insistent that the man had not been Galador, as most people at the Palace probably suspected, even then, where his tastes lay….’ ‘I did not know it was Prince Imrahil himself who came. Mithriel had gone to the aid of the one who had jumped out of the window and it was then that she saw me. I heard her say ‘Brother, tell me what you saw’, but I didn’t know their father was Prince Imrahil. I thought they were the children of one of the Palace servants. It’s what you always told me Mithriel was. You never told me she was the Prince’s daughter!’ Sandrinë cried out to her parents. ‘And then he came, her father, she told him my name and said he had to get my parents urgently and I was screaming and screaming, and he held me tightly saying he was sorry, so sorry. Mithriel wouldn’t let anyone touch Vandan until you got there, Papa, and she was crying, and you went to her, you went to her first, Mama, not to me’. Sandrinë was sobbing hard now. Hella had gone over to her to hold her distraught daughter close to her. ‘Imrahil had you in his arms, my love. She had no one. No one would go near her. You were screaming that it was her fault, that she had murdered your brother because he had caught her having sex with another man down under the pier and that Vandan had been in love with her and had been her lover too. We knew it wasn’t true. We knew it was Galador Vandan was in love with. We knew what must have happened as soon as we got there and saw him dead with you screaming about Galador. Sandrinë, the sword was still in his hand. It was your father’s sword. We have no idea how he could have got it as it had been securely locked away.’ Sandrinë whimpered, looked up through her tears and began to quieten down. Her mother continued. ‘We understood what she had done and that she was protecting the ones she loved for whom the scandal and consequences would have been far greater, so we stood there and watched passively while she admitted to her father that she had been having an affair with both Vandan and another man she would not name. We didn’t think you would understand the deceit, Sandri. You were too young and too distraught. We knew we would have to get you away from there and that we couldn’t stay. We would have gone back to touring but neither Lothíriel nor Imrahil would countenance this. That’s why we ended up at Lothring, which you have loved, haven’t you? We did that for you, my darling. I am so sorry if we made the wrong decision for you.’ Vadamir came over to his daughter to stroke her hair and kiss her on her forehead as she sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. Turning to the others he told them the final part of this tale of woe. ‘Finglor was sent for the next day and he has been with her ever since. It would never have happened had he been with her. He had warned us both that he felt that Vandan might find Dol Amroth more challenging than we realised. He warned us… well, we didn’t pay heed and Vandan paid the price of our wilful ignorance. Vandan wouldn’t have got anywhere near the Palace with a sword had Finglor been there and Imrahil knows it. I suspect that deep down Imrahil knows the truth. The boys couldn’t wait to get to Minas Tirith to fight for Gondor after that. I think they felt that was easier than dealing with Lothíriel. There is so much pain and so much mistrust in that family. It must have been hard for a man like Imrahil to admit he couldn’t protect his daughter better than Finglor. And by the Valar I know how that feels,’ he said emotionally. |