Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 22 |
| Chapter Twenty Two |
| Éomer marvelled at his future wife. There was a lightness around her that had not been there before. The shadow that had lain upon her had truly lifted. She sat behind him on Moonsheen as the Mearas took their riders to Bree, after which they would leave them. The Éored would arrive in the next days with their own horses to take them back to Rohan. Eradan’s kin would remain with their prisoner at his own house close to the Barrow Downs before taking the man to the Angle with Legolas and Gimli the next day once Gallend and Assa had spoken to him, and then to the South. He would not be allowed to see Éomer or Lothíriel again. Such was the heightened atmosphere of excitement at The Prancing Pony that no one noticed which figure slipped into which room at the end of such an engaging night of joy and laughter. Only Assa had not been able to muster up enough enthusiasm to join in the singing and dancing, she had looked somewhat confused by the festivities. Lothíriel noted with some concern than she was looking a bit wan and noticed Hadán’s astute gaze fall thoughtfully upon his sister from time to time. She made a note to speak to him as soon as she could get him on his own. As Eradan had lent the Rohirrim some horses until their own arrived, Assa and Gallend were able to leave early in the morning with him for their assignation with Turallien, while Genting prepared to accompany Éomer to Buckland to stay at Merry’s family home, Brandy Hall, as was fitting to welcome his liege lord to The Shire. They would then take the road to Hobbiton to stay with Frodo and Sam before returning to Bree. Hadán would remain with Lothíriel to await her father. She kissed her future husband farewell and left with Hadán soon afterwards for the road south. As they approached the turning to Turallien’s family house one of the Dúnedain stepped out to flag them down. ‘Minohtar, greetings. Are they all still there?’ she called out. ‘They are, Lothíriel. I was to come for you in Bree as soon as they left. My Lady, I would advise you not to interrupt them. Eradan has called in many men from the village. I fear this is going to be a most unpleasant day,’ the man said darkly. ‘I believe you, Minohtar. Bodies of children follow this man wherever he roams. All his properties will need to be excavated. We are not stopping here. I will go to the burial mounds to speak with Mithrandir and review the treasures they have found. That of Dol Amroth will return with my father. The rest will stay with you in the Angle and be used for Arnor’s recovery. I will sleep in the Forest tonight with Tom Bombadil and his wife, although Hadán will return to Bree once I am safe with Mithrandir. He will come back for me in the morning and bring me here.’ ‘I will let Eradan know, and I wish you well. I will be one of the guards to go south with the prisoner, so I will not see you until your wedding, an occasion we are all very much looking forward to after all this evil.’ Minohtar bowed his farewell as did she. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Lothíriel left Mithrandir the next morning, having extracted a promise that he would be at her wedding and while she was still in his sight, she called for her horse as she walked out from the Old Forest. It was not, however, Hadán alone who was waiting for her but also her father and brother. She ran to her father and was immediately enveloped in an expansive hug. ‘It’s over, Father. It is finally over,’ she cried half laughing, half crying. Amrothos stole her from her father’s embrace in relief. ‘We arrived in Bree late last night. Your absence meant we both had a bed at least,’ Amrothos joked, ‘but only because Assa found herself a more interesting berth. How long has that been going on?’ Lothíriel gave a sly glance to Hadán, who rolled his eyes. Amrothos realised with a jolt his indiscretion, so he was mightily relieved when an unoffended Hadán replied, ‘Oh, about twenty years, not while he was married of course but they’ve known each other… well… for a long time.’ Imrahil looked in askance at his youngest son. ‘I don’t suppose you are ever going to learn the art of discretion, Amrothos, are you?’ he sighed despairingly. ‘Hadán has told us what happened,’ her father continued unhappily. ‘You took too great a risk, Lothíriel. Neither Éomer nor myself would have countenanced it. What was Eradan thinking?’ ‘It was not Eradan’s choice, Father. He too was not happy, but to be fair, Merry and Pippin took the greater risk. They could have been killed at any time from an arrow or a swift dagger. They were so brave and played their parts perfectly. Turallien was never going to kill me quickly, so we knew we would have time for Tom Bombadil and Mithrandir to find me, which they did, easily. Bombadil taught me the song of power to keep the Wights away from me, so it was only Turallien and his men who were a potential threat. He didn’t even bother to bind my hands and I had the daggers hidden, tied to my calves. I had more than a fighting chance,’ she reassured her father and brother. ‘We could not get him at the house,’ she went on to explain. ‘His men were there, but he never showed himself. We had to abduct one of his men and force him to tell us where he was. It seems he almost never left the protection of the burial mounds when he was up here. We had no choice but to go to him. There was no other way. Come, Father, Amrothos. We have much to talk about. I know that you want to know what happened to Mother now that I have remembered. It will be ten years tomorrow and I do not want to tell you of it here. It was not Turallien who killed her. Let us finish this business with him today, and tomorrow we will mourn her properly if you can wait. First, I need to go to the house and speak with Eradan about what he has found there.’ With heavy hearts father and son nodded their agreement and understanding, knowing that tomorrow would be a day of pain and sadness but one they both needed to go through out of their love and respect for their wife and daughter, mother and sister. They walked the horses over to the house taking their time as she described to them some of her time in the North, in turn they told her of their journey to Sarn Ford and of the fight they had when they raided a suspicious barge on its way downstream, a suspicion which was confirmed by the mark of the black hand found on each man’s chest. It had been grimly satisfying. They had handed the few survivors to the Dúnedain who had been waiting for them at the final disembarkation point of the river closest to Barrow Downs. Joyous as it was to be together, none doubted that this day would be testing, a feeling confirmed by the faces of those they saw as they rode up to the seemingly tumbledown house on the most northern edge of the Downs. Eradan came striding towards them as they dismounted. He greeted Imrahil and Amrothos warmly, before taking Lothíriel by the hand away from them to speak to her alone. He was visibly upset. She nodded her understanding and squeezed his hand in encouragement. Lothíriel approached the three men purposefully. ‘Eradan has found letters, written by Cirion to his mother,’ she told her father and brother. ‘It seems they lived here together while he was growing up, until he was able to leave her at the age of fourteen to join Pallakir’s ship, to be trained in seamanship. He was never an Astari, instead he was sent from town to town to practice deception and intrigue before being sent to Dol Amroth. He wrote to her every week… about us. Turallien buried these letters in a sealed box with his mother. Will you read these with me, Father, Amrothos, for I will read every word and then I will tell you all of what I have remembered from the two days we were with him, his brother Turallien and his nephew, Herumor.’ ‘I thought you were only one day with Cirion and two with Pallakir?’ said Amrothos confused as impetuous as ever. ‘No, Amrothos. It was Turallien who flogged me.’ She gave an ironic half laugh. ‘It was Cirion who managed to stop him from flogging me to death. He, at least, wanted the money more than the revenge and, unlike his brother, Cirion had no thirst for blood. I would prefer it if you read the letters first. It will make you understand some things which will make the telling less difficult for me.’ Lothíriel asked Hadán to read with them all the letters recovered from the tomb of Bregolith, so he could explain to Gallend and Assa what they needed to know. She would only need to re-tell this trauma one more time, to her husband once Turallien had faced justice, in whatever form that took. It would not be Lothíriel’s role to decide. ------------------------------------------------------------------- The deceit, the lies, the manipulation of the family, it was laid out in full, as a triumph. His hopes for his future, his desires, his lusts were all detailed graphically. Lothíriel read the letters first, far more quickly than any of the others could but she knew at which point her father and brother would understand what Hadán already knew. She waited. Her father had gone silent and could read no more. She looked at him intently. Amrothos was only one letter behind his father but he had already seen the pattern, the implications. He looked up to see his father staring impassively at the wall. Amrothos turned to his sister still unsure of what he had surmised. ‘So Cirion was not interested in girls or women, only men. Is that right, Lothíriel? So, it was not him, who…’ he was struggling to control himself. ‘It was that bastard all along, and you… you… saw him again, knowing all this.’ ‘I had to set myself free, Amrothos. And I am free of him. Turallien craves attention, he needs to feel power. The more I, we, ignore him, the weaker he becomes. He will expect to meet Aragorn, as an equal, it would feed his overly high opinion of himself, but I have demanded that he does not. He is desperate to speak to Éomer, to tell him this, to hurt him, so he can feel more powerful than a King. I have demanded that Éomer be kept away from him. I, and I alone, will tell Éomer what really happened, but not until Turallien has faced justice. I do not want my wedding night to be marred by Turallien’s evil manipulations. Éomer is too good and honest, he has already accepted me, damaged as I am. I do not want that evil bastard crowing to Éomer about what he did to me. It would drive any man mad, and I do not want Éomer to be abused in this way. You understand? Do you understand?’ Amrothos looked at her in shock, but he nodded his acceptance of her demands. ‘Father?’ she demanded. ‘I will kill him,’ Imrahil said shaking his head. ‘I am going to kill him’, he said softly with determination. ‘No, Father. That is not justice. That is vengeance. I will have justice. Justice for all those innocents he slaughtered. Your way would be… too quick…’ she said deliberating over the last two words. Her father looked up at his daughter, who looked deep into his eyes. He saw the steel within, the shadow of a smile played on her lips. ‘You are right, my daughter,’ Imrahil answered her smile slowly, understanding the validity of her words. ‘I will give him no further thought. May I take these letters back to Dol Amroth, to show Erchirion and Elphir? I think we all have quite a few apologies to make to those who were close to us during this time. Galador proved his strength and loyalty above all. He showed himself to be wholly impervious to Cirion’s charms, surprising given his inclinations.’ Imrahil wiped tears from his eyes as he reflected on the grief so many misunderstandings had caused, the innuendos believed, the lies told, the mistrust it had sown between him and his wife. ‘What can we do for Galador, Lothíriel? How can I make life easier for him and Erchirion?’ ‘There is much we can do the make the lives easier of all those who love in a different way than custom has dictated, but specifically, I thought I should buy Hannedriel’s house from her daughters on the promise we will help them back into society and give it to Galador and Erchirion to live in, after which it would revert to Rohan, to become Rohan’s official residence in Minas Tirith. Annedriel and Margelith are Galador’s cousins, and he is very protective of Margelith at least. They have done nothing wrong and should not suffer because of their family’s actions. They could both continue to live there until they marry, if that is what they wish. Osimir has already agreed to sell his house to Amrothos and Frea. It would be nice to all be so close to each other when we are in Minas Tirith, don’t you think?’ The light was fading. Eradan came to ask them if they wished to ride back to Bree. He had organised extra rooms in the town for everyone, including those Swan Knights who had accompanied Imrahil on the boat. They readily acquiesced. ‘I assume you have found the remains of many children, both boys and girls,’ she asked her step-grandfather. ‘Bregolin held sway here before his nephew killed him so he could take over. I suspect that Bregolin was a genuine follower of Sauron, but Turallien was more devoted to the wealth he could accumulate, and his own power more than his supposed master’s.’ ‘Not just children, Lothíriel. There were some hobbits as well as a few adults but yes, we have uncovered mostly children. You said he sent Herumor to the East. I have sent men to try to track him. He will never be able to hold the power his uncle had but he is still dangerous and we need to find him. I have sent word to Aragorn. He knows the eastern tribes well and may have an idea of which is the most likely to be turned. Come, none of you have eaten all day. Let’s get some supper in Bree.’ ------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a very different evening from the one that had gone before. Lothíriel had supper with Eradan, her father and brother in the private dining room at The Prancing Pony, away from the main dining hall. She had much to impart which would cause great pain. Eradan left them after supper, Lothíriel would tell him the details in her own time. ‘There were three men on the small boat,’ she began, ‘Cirion; a man whose name I never learned, but was there for Cirion’s pleasure; and Turallien. Mother was already constrained and gagged, being held at knifepoint below deck by the time we got there. Poor Friniel, whom Mother had instructed to join us, if you remember Amrothos, was on deck trying to appear that all was normal, which is why none of you realised anything was wrong. Turallien had a dagger behind her back and had told her he would kill Mother if she tried to alert you. She wasn’t very bright and was so very timid. We were not far from the shore, but beyond your sight when he killed her. They needed to get as far from Dol Amroth as quickly as possible before anyone realised we were gone. It was too small a boat to outrun any of our own ships had they been sent out soon after we had left and they counted on anyone following to stay close to the shoreline as you would have expected of a small pleasure boat, so the first day they spent pushing the boat hard into the open sea. It wasn’t until nightfall that he came for me.’ Lothíriel knew she did not have to be more explicit about what happened at that point. They had both witnessed her struggle in the nightmares she had had. ‘Eventually even he had to sleep. Mother had been left alone and Cirion was having fun with his lover, but the next day we were joined by a much larger ship, manned by a bigger crew and we were forced onto it. Surprisingly a younger man, in his late teens, early twenties, was Turallien’s second in command, not Cirion.’ ‘Herumor,’ Amrothos surmised. Lothíriel nodded. ‘It seems that Mother had been promised to Pallakir and he wanted her untouched. I was held in Turallien’s cabin, I did not witness what happened, but I heard the shouting and the screams. Herumor had tried to rape Mother, against instructions as I found out later, and Mother defended herself unexpectedly, stabbing him deep in the neck, across the forehead and his eye and most seriously in his side. They were not sure he would live. Sadly, he did, as we all now know. Since Turallien could not touch Mother or part of his payment would be forfeit and realising it would hurt Mother far more to harm me in front of her, I was brought out and he flogged me himself. I think he would have gone much further such was his rage. It was Cirion who prevented him from killing me. Cirion even allowed Mother to look after me that first night, so she could tend my wounds and try to patch me up before we were handed over to Pallakir the next day. Mother told me so many things that night she spent with me. It was the closest I have ever felt to her, she treated me no longer as a child. She told me how much she loved you, Father. She told me how she had not at first, she had thought you aloof. She was so wary around men after what had happened with Denethor. Then as she got to know you better, she realised that it was not that you were aloof, but that she had been reserved and cold. She begged me not to make the same mistake and not to shut out love, not to fear it. She realised that in loving Amrothos so much and so easily, only then had she allowed herself to be open to loving others, to loving you, Father. You were so kind and honourable, yet in so much pain at losing your wife, she felt drawn to you.’ Imrahil was barely in control of himself. ‘It was the devotion she showed to you, Amrothos, that made me realise that she was not this haughty arrogant woman I had first held her to be,’ he remembered with great poignancy. ‘She loved you so much, I could not help falling in love with her over time. Your mother had wanted me to love again, she knew she might not survive your birth. You had been very much her choice. She felt she did not have a long life ahead of her and she desperately wanted another child, even if she died herself to give that life.’ The tears flowed down Amrothos’s cheeks as Lothíriel went to hug her brother. ‘If you feel up to it, I can tell you now what happened the next day or we can wait until the morning.’ ‘No, Lothíriel. I would prefer to know the truth now, however hard it will be, if it is not too much for you,’ her distressed father said stoically. ‘And I the same,’ Amrothos said in a strong determined voice. ‘As we know from the letters, Cirion knew Pallakir and his crew well, but so did Turallien. It was a friendly exchange, us for the money. Pallakir even laughed when he saw my injuries. I only had to be alive, what state I was in was of no importance to him. He was only interested in one prize… I was dumped in their apothecary cabin to have more ointment smeared on my back, so it didn’t become infected. They only needed me to survive long enough to draw Maglor to Sennebar and kill me in front of him. Mother was taken away from me at that point. I believe she was kept with Pallakir in his quarters,’ Lothíriel said as delicately as she could, seeing the drawn face of her father tense up. ‘The door to the apothecary was unlocked. Assuming I would not move once the ointment had been applied, I was left completely unguarded as the crew looked to make their way back to Sennebar. Only the currents and the wind were against them, so they were more distracted than they would have otherwise been. There were many different poisons, I just needed to make my choice and find where they stored the ale and the drinking water. It wasn’t difficult, I know my way around a ship. You taught me well, Father. There was a cure to the poison I chose, which I was careful to secrete, just enough for Mother. I was terrified that Mother would drink the water by mistake. But I thought it was likely that Pallakir would have his own private supply of better water and wine in his quarters and Mother would be given this, so I took the risk. We were both dead anyway if I did nothing. I poisoned everything else I could find. I went back to the apothecary cabin and waited. The poison I chose in the quantity I had administered would only slowly take effect over the course of the night, so the crew would all drink it before realising it was bad. I knew it was working when much later into the night two men stumbled into the apothecary looking for something to help stop the spasms they were beginning to experience. I pretended to be asleep until one of them came close enough for me to grab his dagger from his belt. I stabbed him through the heart and the other one several times before he could react. I could hear groaning from other parts of the ship. I went to find those who had not already succumbed to the poison, picking up more daggers as I went. There were only nine or ten men still alive in the bow side of the ship and they were all weakened or half dead by the time I came upon them to hasten their end. I feared the few remaining in the stern, including Pallakir, might be unaffected by what I had done, but I had to find Mother and so I ventured onto the main deck. Dawn was breaking, Pallakir must have been alerted to what was happening to his crew not too long before as he was still only half-dressed when he appeared on deck as I came out from below. He was shouting for his men, but there were none still alive on the bow side. He gave orders to the two left guarding his cabin to bring Mother to him. I could see that neither Mother nor Pallakir had been affected by the poison. The two guards also were showing no signs of weakness. It was three men against me and Mother, and Pallakir was holding a knife to Mother’s throat. I tried to think of all the ways I could save her, as was she, of the ways she could save me. Only I could see none. The two guards were coming for me and Mother began to struggle violently with Pallakir. Even though Maglor and Tuor taught me later how to throw daggers and fight, I had already been teaching myself and was much more skilled even then than you ever realised. I could not allow the guards to get within reach of me as they would easily overpower me. I was able to kill one with a dagger I threw into his throat. The second guard had been so surprised he had momentarily hesitated, watching his companion struggle to breath. I stabbed him in his leg, brought him down to my level and almost decapitated him. But when I next looked up, I saw that Mother had been wounded. She was bleeding badly from her side. I didn’t see how it had happened but she had continued to fight and was still fighting, for me, to save me.’ Lothíriel became silent, struggling with the memory of what she remembered. ‘He overcame her and forced her in front of him facing me with his dagger to her throat. They were up on the Quarterdeck. ‘Come Lothíriel, come and save your mother,’ he shouted to me. ‘Put the daggers down and you can save her. I won’t harm either of you. I need to deliver both of you to the Grand Master, alive,’ he said but I knew that was a lie. Cirion had already told me what awaited us there. A slow and painful death, but only for me. Mother was Pallakir’s to do with as he wished; she was not needed in Sennebar alive and would not be allowed to live. But I pretended, I pretended that I believed him, and I walked onto the Quarterdeck.’ Lothíriel closed her eyes as the tears flowed down her cheeks. Imrahil folded his daughter into his arms, and he held her tightly to him until she had regained her composure enough to continue. Amrothos had not moved throughout the story, his grief was too great. ‘Mother knew, she knew from which distance I could kill him. She waited, his dagger cutting into her, until I was close enough, but he held her to him too tightly for me to safely throw the dagger. I couldn’t do it.’ Lothíriel could not go on. Her father held her hand in encouragement. ‘I began to burn, the power I had used to force myself to act, it was beginning to burn me. He was backing away from me, taking Mother with him right up to the railings. He looked confused, scared almost. The ship was burning behind me. He must have slackened his grip on Mother because she turned on him in one last burst of fury. She used his own hand to thrust the dagger he held deep into his stomach and he… he took it out and thrust it into her throat and just pushed her over the side, into the sea. And she was gone. My beautiful mother, who did everything to protect me. He came staggering towards me with the dagger still in his hand, but the fire raged even more strongly within me, I just grabbed his hand and he burned. I set him on fire and left him there screaming. I jumped over the side into the water to try to find Mother, but I couldn’t see her. Lord Ulmo saved me, the water took me, it calmed the fire within me, and I drifted. I drifted until you found me, but I couldn’t remember. I knew she was dead, but my mind couldn’t accept it. Why didn’t the fire come sooner? I could have saved her, I should have saved her…’ she ended in a sobbing whisper. ‘No, my daughter. It was for her to save you, and she did. It was her choice, one she could be proud of, as I am of her,’ Imrahil said emotionally. ‘Mithrandir told me that when love is absolute it can ignite the fire of the Maia within those who have the strength to withstand it. He thought that it was Mother who caused the flame to light, it was her love which sustained me,’ cried Lothíriel weeping into her father’s chest. ‘I can believe that, Lothíriel,’ her father said softly. ‘As can I,’ Amrothos concurred as he put his arms around his weeping sister, adding his tears to hers. |