Though Finglor had given Éomer something to deaden the pain in his leg for the necessary hours needed, he had warned Erkenbrand there were limits. He had counselled that they kept these initial negotiations short as Éomer would tire quickly. The ride had indeed been painful, but Éomer was in no mood to show weakness in front of his enemy. He dismounted with determination and walked firmly into the open stone foundations with Erkenbrand beside him as his translator and principal advisor.
The leader of the Northern regions stood waiting for him flanked only by one other older Dunlending. Leofric had an open face, which expressed intelligence and curiosity. He held himself with confidence, but not arrogance, and bowed his head low in greeting. Speaking in passable Westron, he welcomed the victors.
‘Greetings, Éomer King and Lord Erkenbrand. I am Leofric. I had heard from one of my men who escaped the battle that your leg had been pierced by an arrow. I am glad to see that your armour protected you well and there is no lasting damage,’ he ventured by way of introduction.
Two other figures had risen from their positions seated on the stone foundations. Both Erkenbrand and Éomer had initially reacted with suspicion as they had not been visible from their arrival point. A spasm of annoyance crossed Éomer’s face. It was Finglor with Lothíriel.
Leofric came forward to explain.
‘I have asked Lady Lothíriel to act as my interpreter in case you wished for us to speak in Rohirric. My Westron is not fluent, my Rohirric is basic and she speaks excellent Dunlendish as well as the others fluently. Lord Finglor is here as representative of the Dúnedain and therefore also the new King of Arnor and Gondor, to both bear witness to any terms negotiated and to ensure compliance.’
‘May I speak with the Lady in private?’ Éomer commanded rather than asked.
Lothíriel approached him cautiously and said under her breath, ‘Please don’t be angry. I do not wish to interfere. I had been asked by Aragorn to review Gondor’s relationship with Dunland regarding Isengard and also by King Thorin regarding access through Dunland to Moria. This is why I have been learning the language. You cannot be surprised that they have asked us both to be here. We didn’t know until we met with him this morning that he wanted me as well as Finglor as witnesses. I couldn’t warn you. It’s a test, Éomer, a test of our neutrality and goodwill.’
Éomer looked at her impassively and said loud enough in Westron so the others could hear, ‘I wanted to thank you for all your help with the wounded last night, I didn’t get the chance before you left.’
Lothíriel looked relieved that he had understood her, nodded and replied, ‘It was nothing, Éomer King. It is what I have been trained to do.’ They both returned to the others to start the negotiations.
Following Finglor’s advice to Erkenbrand, they kept it short and uncomplicated. Both sides had independently been given an idea of each other’s expectations and pressure points by Finglor in confidence. In reality, they were agreeing to what Finglor had determined would make for a fair settlement with the chance of achieving a long-term peace, not that anyone, least of all Finglor, would admit to it. All prisoners were to be released on assurances that they would return to their villages in peace. Throughout Dunland, any Rohirric captives, taken in previous raids were to be found and freed immediately, and any child of such unions with Rohirric heritage would be free to settle in Rohan. The existing borders were to be reaffirmed and to be respected. Any further raids over these borders would rescind the agreement and result in invasion and loss of territory. If the raids ceased, over time Rohan as well as the Dwarves of Erebor would give aid to alleviate economic hardship and offer support to destroy orcs and goblins who continued to threaten Dunland from Moria.
With the basis for the peace accord agreed and with Éomer visibly tiring, Finglor brought the discussion to a close and escorted Leofric and his advisor to their horses to leave. Once Leofric and his companion had ridden away, Éomer, feeling suddenly weak, allowed Lothíriel to force him to sit on one of the larger stones. Erkenbrand tactfully went to speak to Finglor, leaving them alone.
‘Will you come back to the camp for supper, Lothíriel?’ he requested. ‘You would be accorded all honour and your own tent if that is your concern,’ he promised when she hesitated.
‘It’s not that,’ she replied quickly looking up at him. ‘We have to be seen to be neutral,’ she continued.
‘Are you neutral?’ he asked.
‘In this, yes,’ she declared adamantly. ‘Rohan has not always been fair to Dunland. You are sensitive at how some in Gondor perceive Rohan as being backward, you do exactly the same to the Dunlendings… They are different yes, but not savages as you so often depict them. We will return to Isengard once we have made sure that those who are wounded no longer need our help.’
Éomer tried to hide his annoyance at her words. Her defence of the Dunlendings, who had ever been a threat to his people, rankled him in the extreme, but neither did he want to argue with her.
‘Lothi?’ he said gently. She turned to him nervously, smiling wistfully to herself at the use of her pet name. ‘Thank you for all you have done,’ he said simply.
‘I did nothing, it’s Finglor you should thank. He saved you, Éomer. It was his manipulation of the Dunlending spy network which caused Leofric’s forces to go to the stream at Forthanc; it was his knowledge of how to treat the insect bite which meant you survived. The Blueback takes the lives of hundreds of Dunlendings every year, usually children. Finglor and I have agreed to return soon with more of the cure and show them how to administer it,’ she said breathlessly.
Éomer was looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Yes, on that point…,’ he started.
‘It was nothing, Éomer,’ she interrupted quickly, flushing perceptibly.
On waking that morning and looking back on what she had done, she had felt intensely ashamed. She had taken advantage of a man in a weakened position, one who was not fully conscious of what he was doing, and she was mortified at how much she had lost control of herself. She could not bear to think of what he must think of her if he remembered any of it.
‘You were my patient,’ she stuttered, knowing she had not treated him in the same way as any other who had been in her care. ‘I have forgotten it already. Please do not think worse of me than you already do.’
He strode over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Worse of you? How can you say that?’
He seemed so angry, yet all she wanted so desperately was for him to take her in his arms and hold her close to him, but he turned away instead, not wanting her to see how upset he was. Misreading the reason of his sudden reticence, and knowing she was herself at the point of losing all self-control, she slipped away so quickly and quietly that Éomer did not realise she had left until he had mastered himself enough to turn back towards her.
He lifted his head to the skies in frustration. Why did she always do this? He limped over the broken stones around him to the rim of the old fort’s structure to catch a glimpse of her leaping onto Geldsheen and riding off, soon to be followed by a surprised Finglor, who cast an accusatory eye back to where Éomer stood.
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Éomer tracked her down reviewing the wounded with Finglor. They were overseeing mainly the injured Dunlendings. Finglor came over to him before he could approach her. His face now hidden by his hood, it was impossible for Éomer to judge the Elf’s feelings.
‘We will leave soon. I don’t know what you have done to upset her,’ Finglor said in some frustration. ‘She won’t tell me, except to insist that you are not at fault. I don’t believe her fully, but I will accept her view.’
From the stunned expression on the King’s face, Finglor judged that he had probably been mistaken in his doubts of Éomer.
‘If I am wrong, I apologise. I do not need to know the details. I have more important matters to discuss with you. A message from Rivendell has just reached me. Éomer, I sincerely regret this, more than you could possibly know, but I am called urgently to the North and I may not be back in time for the end of Hithui. She cannot be left alone over the time of her captivity. You have seen how she can be, but you have not yet seen the full extent of her distress and where that can lead. I must insist you send a message to her father, asking if he can be with her. Tuor I know to be busy in Umbar and Pelargir. Faramir also has the ability to help her through it, but he has too much to deal with securing Ithilien.
Imrahil, of course, is the best option but if he is unavailable, at the very least ask him to send Amrothos. Amrothos has the requisite strength and speed to deal with her although not the necessary empathy. He is the only one of her brothers who is not afraid of her. Do not try to deal with this alone. I believe Tuor and Imrahil told you in some detail what steps we take.’
Éomer nodded concerned and confused. ‘Surely the answer is to request Cissy to return to Edoras. She is already in Rohan and this was also partly her purpose in accompanying Lothíriel…’ Finglor hesitated a fraction before answering.
‘Cissy’s place is now in The Wold, Éomer. Lothíriel is eager to see her and that is where I will take her now, but then I must head north. As Maela will come with me, Geldsheen will go back to his herd to await Maela’s return to Rohan, therefore Lothíriel will need her own horse sending to her. Might I suggest that you ask Lord Delwine to take her horse to her at Cissy’s village and they can tour The Wold together as planned, returning to Edoras in enough time for you to get her to Helm’s Deep as we discussed.’
Éomer had been listening in disbelief initially but with increasing seriousness as Finglor continued.
‘I will try to be back, but I cannot guarantee this. She is very nervous about staying with you without me and I fear she will abscond to a remote spot and try go through this alone. You must at all costs prevent that. Do not tell her that I may not be back. You will have to keep this from her until the day itself, or she will flee. Take care of her for me, Éomer. I know you can and that you care deeply for her.’
‘Can Cissy not come with her to Helm’s Deep?’ he asked incredulously.
‘No,’ came Finglor’s emphatic reply to Éomer’s evident surprise.
‘Then I will do all I can to help her. She will be safe with me and my sister, Finglor. Please trust us. I will do as you ask, of course. I am sorry that I have upset her. Whatever it is I have done, it was not intentional. I want nothing more than for her to come back to us. We will protect her,’ he said sincerely.
Finglor could see no artifice or guilt in Éomer’s eyes and made an astute guess at what might be causing Lothíriel’s distress. He put a discreet hand on Éomer’s shoulder in some sympathy for him.
‘She is becoming a woman, Éomer, but one who has had no mother to guide her. She was never a normal child, we cannot expect her to be a normal woman. She is more used to being rejected by those around her than loved. It has ever been a battlefield of emotions for her, even before the abuse she received at the hands of that monster.’
He broke off suddenly as if to listen to something Éomer could not hear. ‘She is calling me. I must go or she will leave without me. She will come back to you with Delwine within the next four weeks. Do not leave her on her own,’ he shouted back leaving Éomer dazed and confused as to what he had done wrong.