As they dismounted, Galador appeared in the courtyard to greet them with another man whom Lothíriel deemed would be the owner’s appointed selling agent. While Trondig took care of the horses, they were soon ushered inside. Although Amrothos’s unexpected appearance had somewhat unnerved Galador, he had been pleasantly surprised by the lack of open hostility of Amrothos’s greeting to him. Lothíriel on the other hand was very clearly upset, betrayed by her wan smile and the especially intense hug she gave her dearest friend. He wanted nothing more than to take her aside to demand a full explanation, but that would have to wait until they were alone. Right now, they were to be shown every aspect of the house before deciding their final offer.
As they followed the agent at a measured pace through the interior of the mansion, Lothíriel found her attention taken away from her dark thoughts by the refined, dignified décor of the rooms and hallways. Although Galador had big plans for renovation, Lothíriel found herself much taken by the traditional Rohirric style of the furnishings. The family who had owned it for centuries had had taste and, at one time, the money to buy quality. They went through every room; a myriad of secret passages and hidden doorways added to the overall excitement. Lothíriel knew in her heart she was buying this for her family. It would remain hers until she died but she would then bequeath it to the Principality. Dol Amroth needed an imposing residence in the commercial heart of Rohan, especially with the new trade route opening next month though the White Mountains. Yet, with the gardens backing onto the Elven Pools, shared with Éomer’s family home, she would find it impossible to stay there knowing he and his future Queen and family would be so close. The weight on her heart, which had fleetingly been suspended by the joy of the house, returned.
The tour over, she composed herself for the final business negotiations as they were invited to join the current owner in the parlour to agree the price ahead of the official signing on 1 Yule, the first day of the New Year and her twenty-first birthday, the day she gained full possession of her fortune.
Lothíriel had written to Galador the morning after she had first seen the house, before leaving for her walk with Éomer around Aldburg, and had instructed him to find the owner in Minas Tirith, to help the owner in any way he could and to make a fair but generous offer for the house. It had not taken him long to find her and what he had found had deeply moved him. An astute judge of character, he had written very favourably to Lothíriel about Frea and had been looking forward to introducing her to his greatest friend. As Lothíriel followed Galador into the parlour a feisty-looking copper-haired lady rose to greet her. Lothíriel realised immediately that she was going to have quite an impact on Amrothos when he came through the door, prompting a jolt of wistfulness deep within her. As soon as the lady’s eyes alighted on her handsome brother the atmosphere in room palpably changed, his obvious attraction being met by an equal magnetic charge, which gave Lothíriel some hope that her fickle and wayward brother might have finally met his match.
‘Lady Lothíriel, it is a great pleasure to meet you at last. I have heard much of your great kindness from many sources in Minas Tirith and beyond.’ The lady spoke in elegant Sindarin. Lothíriel studied her discreetly as she introduced her brother who made no attempt to hide his delight. Amrothos had sat himself down next to the lady and promptly took over the conversation with her. Lothíriel smiled to herself. Lady Frea was not quite as tall as Éowyn but still tall for one of her people, she had delicate freckles evenly covering her face, which was playful and open. Her teeth were slightly uneven but in a way that accentuated her innate cheekiness, which shone brightly through her deep blue eyes. She was not a classic beauty as Amahlia had been, but she was quite captivating, and her personality was every bit as engaging as Galador had written.
‘Lady Frea?’ Lothíriel quickly interjected when Amrothos had paused slightly in his monopolisation of her. ‘Might I ask what your plans are from here? I understand from Galador that you wish to settle in Minas Tirith. Do you know what you will do with the contents of this house?’ she asked as sensitively as she could. A shadow crossed Frea’s face.
‘I confess, I have nowhere to live as my previous home was destroyed and my husband’s family have disinherited us from all properties to which we should have been entitled, so I have no option but to sell all contents of this house except for a few small family heirlooms I would wish to keep. I understand that you would prefer the house to be empty and I will instruct this to be done by the time you take over the house by Yule.’
‘In fact, I would prefer to buy all contents from you,’ Lothíriel answered her unexpectedly, ‘excepting those items you wish to keep, but on the condition that you may buy anything back from me you wish at the price I have paid for it in the next two years, after which I will offer it to you first for the market price if I ever intend to sell anything. The contents of this house are worth…’ Lothíriel closed her eyes for a while as she scanned in her mind all the objects she had seen within, ‘…I’d say about a full seventh of the value of the house, that’s about 543 sovereigns. This is a fair price, at auction, especially in this climate, you would be lucky to get 225-250 at most and all benefit would go to those experts who understand the real value of what your family has collected over the centuries. They will simply store it for a few years or so and then sell it on for double what they have paid,’ Lothíriel spoke quickly and dispassionately. Amrothos judged accurately too given the sour look on the face of the selling agent. Frea’s face by contrast shone with gratitude.
‘I was not expecting more than 200 sovereigns to come from the contents, which broke my heart as I am not unaware of the quality of the objects my family has collected. I will, of course, accept and if my fortunes improve there are certain tapestries and silverware made specifically for the family which I would like to preserve for any future heirs.’
‘Galador will make all necessary arrangements for depositing the monies with you. We can give you some as an advance today if you have the need.’ Lothíriel smiled up at both Frea and Amrothos, who was quite taken aback at Lothíriel’s largess. She looked hesitantly at Frea for a moment before continuing, ‘I was also wondering if you would do me a great favour, only if it is convenient for you,’ she said arching an eyebrow delicately by way of a query. ‘I have some friends in Minas Tirith who lost their son, their only child, and his two children in the war. They are a bit lost, especially Tamarillith. Having someone as vibrant as you in the house with a daughter who needs care would bring them a purpose. I am so worried about them and they have a house that is far too big for just the two of them and their servants, who do their best but it’s not the same. I don’t suppose you would consider moving in with them until you are able to find the right place for yourself? It’s the house directly below the Amrothian residence, you know the one, Amrothos….’
‘Yes, but how do you know them so well? You’ve barely stayed in Minas Tirith these last ten years…’ Amrothos asked stunned by her offer however much he welcomed it.
‘Well, erm… oh well, I don’t think it matters now. I used to climb into their garden all the time when I wanted to explore the city without being seen. They’ve been protecting my secret for the last fifteen years. I was about five when Osimir first caught me coming down from the tree, but I ran off before he could grab me. He knew exactly who I was, of course and I thought he was going to march directly to Father to complain. When I eventually came back, I found a ladder had been left at the tree so I could get back safely. They are very good friends, Lady Frea, and I would do anything for them. I assure you they would be delighted to have a young person in the house and a little one to fuss over, don’t you think, Galador?’
All turned to Galador, who quickly divining Lothíriel’s intent, enthusiastically endorsed her view. Frea was understandably more hesitant. ‘Do you really think…? Are you sure I wouldn’t be imposing…? My daughter does need a great deal of care, I have been able to leave her with a friend for these last few days, but it is a strain being there for her the whole time…’ she stumbled, not quite believing the change in her fortune.
‘You should meet them first and see if you feel comfortable with them and then make your decision. I would consider it a great favour.’ Lothíriel finished resolutely. The last year had not given Frea much faith in her fellow men, and the Lothíriel’s infamy was so pervasive, she did not know what to make of this notorious woman, only that she had heard from her kin in Rohan and those friends of her late husband’s who had been close to Lady Unwin that the Lady of Dol Amroth had been unjustly maligned. However, such generosity was overwhelming, Frea felt there had to be some hidden motive behind it and she remained guarded, trying to understand what else might be expected of her.
Lothíriel sighed, ‘I see you are not used to receiving kindness and have learned to suspect what else might lie behind it.’ She nodded. ‘You are right, Lady Frea, and I will tell you.’
Amrothos noticed a sudden change in Galador, a look of apprehension. ‘Your husband was one of the two hundred selected as ‘volunteers’ to sacrifice themselves riding out with Faramir when Osgiliath had been overrun. Firstly, my family owe you for that loyalty, my Lady. They should never have been ordered to go and he should not have been on that list. Osimir and Tamarillith’s son was also one of those chosen to die. Secondly, I will not have those families who dared challenge that bitch Hannedriel suffer any longer. It was why your husband’s name was put forward. You might as well know this too, Amrothos, so was Elphir’s.
Amrothos exploded, ‘What?’
Lothíriel continued ‘Denethor did take his off the list, but only his….’
‘Does Father know this?’ Amrothos could barely control himself. Lothíriel nodded at her brother.
‘He does, but it is not… yet… more widely known.’
‘How do you know this?’ Frea whispered, her voice too constricted to speak. Lothíriel looked at Galador to explain further, a command to which he reluctantly complied.
‘I am friends with one of the Tower Guards who received the list from one of Hannedriel’s household to deliver it to Denethor.’ Galador explained. ‘He stood behind Denethor as he read the list. And he saw him delete Elphir’s name. He then heard him say, “We cannot afford to upset our greatest ally at this stage, but otherwise if this is what she wants, she can have them”…’
Frea gasped a strangled cry. ‘She could not have done that! She cannot be that evil.’ Lothíriel rested a calming hand on Frea’s knee. Amrothos had stood up and was pacing around the room struggling to maintain his composure.
‘Hannedriel is great friends with your step-mother-in-law, is she not? And you wonder how you find yourself in this situation. I will not have it; I will endure her evil no longer. There will be a reckoning,’ Lothíriel stated darkly. Amrothos loomed over Galador.
‘I want to meet this man. I want to hear this testimony myself. Where is he?’ he snarled.
‘He is under the protection of King Elessar, Amrothos. Father has already interviewed him,’ Lothíriel soothed him. ‘The time is not yet right. It is his word alone and there is no evidence to prove it was she who wrote the list, even though it was curious how all those sons of the families she most disliked were disproportionally represented on it. The City knows in its heart she had a hand in it. Her time will come.’
Lothíriel moved to change subject. ‘I am sorry to have brought this up, but I hope that it goes some way to explain why to us, my family, you are not someone to whom we owe nothing. Might I make another suggestion? Galador and I are due to have lunch with some friends of mine who are currently in Aldburg, and I am leaving Amrothos on his own to explore the town. Might I ask if you would do him the honour of showing him your hometown and he can repay your kindness by taking you out for lunch? Just not at the Golden Horse as that is where we will be.’
Amrothos pounced on the suggestion, ‘I would be delighted if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, my Lady?’
‘I intended to leave as soon as we were finished, but I would be able to stay for an hour or two, as long as I leave directly after lunch. Thank you, I would enjoy that very much. I think after the shock of what you have told me, it would be better for me to have some company,’ she said somewhat breathlessly.
She stopped and took stock of the situation as she stood up to make her way to leave with Amrothos. She turned at the door to face Lothíriel and said in a stronger voice, ‘In truth, it had been noticed, what you said, but no one could believe that she could wield so much direct influence. Most had assumed it was Denethor wreaking his final revenge on those families who had not shown him the requisite deference. You can count on me for any help I can give you when that day of reckoning is near,’ she declared stoutly, her natural resilience returning to her.
‘Might we leave the horses here, Lady Frea? And would you mind if Galador and I walked through the house one more time after lunch so we can catalogue the contents and send you precise details of how I have priced each item?’ enquired the ever-practical Lothíriel.
‘But that will take you hours. I am happy to take the offer on trust…’ Frea began to remonstrate.
‘An hour at most, it’s just to see those items that are hidden from immediate view, so I can make sure they are included. Everything else is already in my head and…’
Amrothos steered Frea through the door, cutting off his sister. ‘I have learned never to argue with Lothíriel when it comes to finances, my Lady, and she is scrupulously fair, so you can leave it to her. Let me fetch your cloak…’
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Galador waited until they were alone outside walking to meet Vadamir and the others to tackle Lothíriel. ‘What’s wrong? You’re upset. Very upset and don’t try to lie to me!’ he insisted. She walked on silently for a while.
‘I’m missing Finglor, that’s all? Did you see him when he came through Minas Tirith? He went to Pelargir about three-four weeks ago.’ She was subdued. He was not sure he believed that this was all that was upsetting her.
‘Of course, I didn’t see him! Not unless he wanted me to see him and thankfully he’s shown not the slightest interest in me given how much he terrifies me,’ he confessed.
‘Galador! How can you say that? He has the highest respect for you, you know that,’ she cried, hurt that he would think badly of Finglor in any way.
‘Only because you keep telling me that. I have no other way of knowing… Anyway, how are things going between you and King Éomer? And then you can tell me how Éowyn is doing? I heard that Cissy is getting married! That’s wonderful. So? Éomer first,’ Galador persisted.
Lothíriel was numb. Already nervous of the conversation she would have with the King later that evening, her mind was stubbornly refusing to return to the events of the previous night. Her mind simply went blank.
‘Well?’ Galador pushed her. She blinked up at him with a confused expression.
‘I don’t know, Galador. I don’t know. He’s got huge responsibilities and he has been more than generous with his time but… that’s it. I have promised Éowyn that I will spend Yule with them, but then I want to be here in Aldburg for the first day of Yule to collect the keys and documents for the house. After that, I am not sure.’
Galador turned her around to face him. She could not look him in the eyes, but he could see tears forming pearl-like on her lower eyelashes. Galador thought to himself, he’s a bloody fool if he has not seen how special she is and how much she loves him. He would write to Genting that evening for an explanation. He held her in a tight hug and held her and held her until he felt she was able to compose herself. The meeting they were both walking towards was going to be emotional enough and neither of them was looking forward to it with enthusiasm. It had been Sandrinë who had requested it.
Lothíriel surmised that Sandrinë wanted to be sure that what had been presented to her by her parents was truly what happened and for that she needed to hear the truth from Galador himself. When the family first came to Dol Amroth the two of them had been quite close as Lothíriel had asked him to help look after her. With hindsight and her greater understanding of such emotions, Lothíriel judged that Sandrinë’s reluctance to believe what had happened that fateful night was more due to her girlhood crush on Galador than anything else, her jealousy that the object of her affection had seemed to be in love with Lothíriel no doubt playing a part in her subsequent behaviour.
With trepidation, the pair entered the private room for their lunch at the Golden Horse. When Sandrinë heard his voice greeting her, she fumbled her way towards him and gave him a heartfelt hug.
‘Sandrinë,’ he said gently. ‘I am truly sorry. I never got the chance to see you before you left. I am sorry we hid this from you, but you do understand the position we were in, don’t you? We could not tell anyone. It wasn’t Vandan’s fault. I tried to tell him that I didn’t love him in that way, that I was already in love with someone else. Had I not been, perhaps I would have reciprocated Vandan’s feelings, despite the dangers that involved. Even now, Sandrinë, this is not something we can be open about. You understand now?’
‘I am sorry,’ she managed to say through her tears, ‘I didn’t know…’ Reluctantly she accepted what she had heard and sobbed distraught into her mother’s embrace.
Lothíriel came over to put her arms around her. ‘Please forgive us, Sandrinë,’ she said gently. ‘None of this was your fault. There are still some things about that day we are unclear about and need to discuss… but only if you feel up to it?’ she added smoothly after Hella shook her head in warning that this was not the right time to probe further. Understanding the discreet message, Lothíriel continued, ‘We do not have to do this now. In fact, I think we are all in need of lunch, food always helps to soothe the nerves, and this has been very distressing for all of us.’
Despite the subdued atmosphere around the table, Galador made a supreme effort to engage Sandrinë, entertaining her with tales of the wonders of Minas Tirith and his life there. Gradually, his charm worked its magic putting the troubled woman at ease. When Lothíriel and Galador finally departed, they left a far more reflective, calmer Sandrinë, and a family in peace at last.
The pair, almost running back to the house, found a distracted Amrothos pacing in the courtyard impatiently. ‘Frea could not wait for you any longer. She will stay overnight with relatives, returning to Aldburg tomorrow and then ride to Minas Tirith. I have decided to stay in Aldburg tonight, Lothi. I have arranged to meet Frea here to escort her back to Minas Tirith and then go on to Dol Amroth. I hope you don’t mind?’ His eyes were flashing with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
‘Of course not, Amrothos. I am very tempted to change my plans and stay here too, but I am expected in Edoras tonight and it would be rude of me not to return after all they have done for me.’
‘In that case, I will leave you now. I do not need to go through the house again. I need to sort out lodgings here for tonight. But I hope to see you here at Yule time if Father and Elphir can spare me to join you. This visit has inspired me to understand more of Rohan,’ he said smiling, his evident joy contrasting starkly with her rather more bleak mood. With that he left, giving his sister the most loving embrace she had ever received from him, which did nothing to alleviate the heaviness in her heart at the thought of going back Edoras and her meeting with the King, but she knew that she had to face him and be brave. She owed him at least that after her behaviour.
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An old man came out of the house to greet the two remaining Amrothians. ‘My Lady Lothíriel, I am Yollander, the former Steward to the household,’ he introduced himself in perfect Sindarin. ‘Lady Frea asked me to take you through the house and let you see whatever you wanted. I will keep the keys safe, and it will be me who will welcome you to the house at Yule to handover the title deeds and the keys.’
‘I am so glad to have this chance to meet you before then,’ Lothíriel enthused. ‘I believe that Galador has asked already if you would consider staying on for a while as we are not likely to be resident all the time in Aldburg, although members of our family will most likely visit reasonably frequently.’
They moved steadily through the house discussing the many beautiful objects and their histories. Yollander was surprised and flattered that these two tall, dark-haired Amrothians were already so knowledgeable about the antiques and furnishings of the house and were so interested in the family’s long history, directly descended from Éorl himself.
‘Well,’ he said as he ended the tour in a small conservatory leading to the gardens, ‘if you would still require my presence in the house, I would be only too happy to help you settle in. I am in no rush to leave the house if I can be of use to you?’
Frea had told Galador that he was the most loyal retainer you could wish for and had been devoted to the family as well as to the house.
‘We would be honoured, Yollander. There may be more work for you to do than you are used to so if I allocate you a larger budget, I am happy to leave it to your discretion as to the level of extra help you will need,’ Lothíriel told him graciously, his relief amply revealed in his low bow to her in acceptance.
As she looked to Galador to leave, she found him gazing attentively at one of the many sculptures that decorated the conservatory. It was a life-sized sculpture of a woman’s head.
‘Look Lothi, it could almost be Éowyn!’ Lothíriel had seen it earlier and had wondered about it too.
‘Ah,’ said Yollander when he followed their gaze to the sculpture. ‘That is Lady Frea’s mother and half-sister to lady Éowyn’s father, Éomund. The blood of Éorl runs deep in this family as I told you. It had been planned that Lady Frea was to marry Théodred, heir to the throne, to further cement the ties between the two noble families, but she was always much closer to her cousin, Éomer.’
The old man reflected on the past and sighed, ‘But then she was packed off to Minas Tirith, where she met and married her Gondorian captain, much to Éomer’s distress as he had always been in love with her. And now, of course, there is a hope and expectation… Well, we can only hope, as he would be one of the few in Rohan to be worthy of her.’ The old man was so entranced by his memories and fervent wishes that he was oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.
Yet it was not the old man’s fault he had unwittingly crushed the mood of those in the room. Deeply concerned, Galador took Lothíriel by the arm and with the best grace they could muster, the Amrothians left Yollander to lock up the house while they went in search of Trondig and the horses in the courtyard. This made no sense to Galador. Firstly Cissy, but most recently Genting had been supplying him with steady updates from Edoras. The three of them had become very close in Minas Tirith and although Genting was supremely discreet, on the subject of the relationship between Éomer and Lothíriel, he had been uncharacteristically forthcoming.
As he walked Lothíriel, with Trondig following a short distance behind, down towards the western gateway out of the town with the horses, after which he would leave them to take the road to Edoras, he felt compelled to intervene.
‘Lothíriel, I do not believe that Éomer is still in love with his cousin,’ he said adamantly. ‘Nor her with him … She has never once mentioned him, nor her royal connections, to me - not once!’ Lothíriel walked on in silence. ‘Lothíriel?’ Galador demanded a response.
‘I have nothing to say,’ she said despondently.
‘He loves you, Lothíriel, of that I am sure,’ he said emphatically.
‘I am afraid he does not,’ she replied with equal certitude.
‘Genting has told me Éomer is in love with you. He says he has rarely seen a man so in love!’ he cried frustrated at her pig-headedness.
‘Genting does not know the mind of the King! Desire is not love, Gally. He may desire me, yes, but he does not love me. He also has a duty to his Kingdom, and she is a far more appropriate match than I am. And since he loves her, he would be foolish not to take her as his wife. I believe he has already made up his mind,’ she cried out, her heart breaking with the realisation of the reason for his refusal of her. ‘I should be on my way, or it will be well after supper before I arrive in Edoras.’
She made to mount her horse. Galador stopped her.
‘Lothi, he is in love with you, and he is not the kind of man to show you this level of favour and affection and yes, desire, without honourable intentions. He is just not.’
‘And what would you know of that!’ she shouted at him bitterly. ‘And I know how damned honourable he is. And he doesn’t love me, because I tried. I offered myself to him, last night, alone in his bedchamber, and he didn’t want me, which only proves that he intends to marry elsewhere, and soon. So please, can we leave this now?’
Galador had been so stunned by her words that he had backed away, leaving her free to jump onto Demeros, the horse Faramir had bought for her, and spur him into a fast canter, tears streaming down her face. Trondig, confused by the harsh words, most of which he had not been able to hear, made to ride after her only to be stopped from mounting his horse by Galador. He had caught a glimpse of a familiar sight down the street.
‘Leave her’, he told him abruptly, with evident relief. ‘He’s back, thank the Valar.’
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She had turned east towards Gondor, not west to take the road back to Edoras. He caught up with her before she turned north towards The Wold, to the safety and love of Cissy. Maela whinnied to Demeros, and he stopped obediently on the road. She knew Finglor had heard her confession. She had felt his presence growing closer all day and had sensed him in the gardens of the house while they were inside after lunch. She knew he would have heard everything that had been said there.
‘I cannot go back, Finglor,’ she pre-empted him.
He sat calmly on Maela saying nothing. She fidgeted, making her horse skittish. Finglor whistled and Demeros settled. Eventually she nodded.
‘There is worse pain than rejection. You are right. I am being weak. I will face this, but then can we leave for Cissy’s wedding? I’ve told him we’ll be in East Emnet so he doesn’t need to worry. I know they are concerned that The Wold is vulnerable, and they are mustering a show of force as a warning. He doesn’t need to know we are there and it’s best if no one does.’
Finglor nodded his approval and they turned to ride to Edoras.
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Frea was elated and yet pensive as she rode up to Meduseld. From the moment she had set eyes on Amrothos she felt her whole life pivot. Only that morning had her future looked so bleak. Notwithstanding the sale of her childhood home, even that princely sum would not suffice to maintain her and her daughter in the lifestyle to which she aspired, not in Minas Tirith, the home she loved, nor even Pelargir or Dol Amroth, not unless she married again to someone of status.
The loss of her husband had been difficult enough, but to lose their beloved son who had insisted on defending his city as the orcs and Southrons had broken through, had almost destroyed her, but she still had Rian to fight for. She had forced herself to be strong, to protect her daughter, only to have her step mother-in-law, Fíriel, throw her and her daughter out of their home the very day after the battle was won, accusing her of infidelity and claiming that Rian was the illegitimate bastard daughter of one of her many lovers. Shocked friends had taken them in that day, but had advised her with some urgency to leave the city. Not for Rohan, the road she would have been expected to take – who knew what dangers lay for her on that road? They bade her to hide with a distant relative in Lossarnach until the situation could be better assessed. Lothíriel was not alone in seeing the malign hand of Hannedriel in guiding her friend Lady Fíriel to Frea’s destruction. Rian was her husband’s daughter and the rightful heir, and all there knew it, but to prove her case would take money she no longer had access to, as well as strong enough supporters to force her rights to be acknowledged. Her friends were in no doubt that Hannedriel’s power and wealth were behind her enemy.
All this she had unburdened to Amrothos in their long lunch. Through her friends still in the city she had heard of the respect the new King accorded the Lady of Dol Amroth as well as all the Kings and Princes of the North. Frea was not naïve in power politics; when she had received Lothíriel’s very generous offer for the house, she had leapt at it, hoping to meet her to strengthen her own support. Now, Lothíriel’s acknowledgment of Hannedriel’s evil had given Frea hope for the first time since she had lost her husband and son.
Amrothos had taken her hand in his own. ‘I cannot imagine the pain of losing a child, nor do I ever want to. You must miss your husband terribly, but at least he did not have to go through that hell with you. You have born this all alone.’ As she looked into his blue grey eyes so full of compassion, Frea lost her heart for the first time; she felt suddenly free. Free of fear. She leant over the corner of the table and kissed Amrothos full on the mouth. He responded immediately, gently resting his head on hers.
‘I know this might seem like madness, Frea, but I am yours. I feel as though I have spent the last ten years of my life in a fog, only at your house, when I saw you, that fog disappeared, leaving only you,’ he told her.
Breathlessly she answered, ‘It is madness, Amrothos. But as a man, you are free to do whatever you wish, I am not. The burden of society’s wrath only ever falls on the women who stray, not the men, much as I might wish to stray… with you.’
‘Then marry me,’ he demanded. Frea looked up startled.
‘Amrothos, I have known you less than two hours…’
‘Many in our station have married on less acquaintance!’ he pointed out accurately.
‘I was not faithful to my husband, Amrothos, nor him to me. We had married too young and for expediency over love. It was years after Rian was born, but this is why it was so easy for Fíriel to make her vile accusation. You should know this.’
Amrothos smiled. ‘And I fear you should know I am no virgin. I have always considered it unfair that men have few consequences to their actions in love. My offer stands until my lady deems me worthy or unworthy of her hand. What can I do to persuade you I am serious?’
‘I must first go to see relatives in Edoras tonight, but I will leave first thing in the morning to return to Minas Tirith. If Lothíriel is serious about Osimir and Tamarillith, would you escort me there to meet them, if you will be in the city again soon?’ she asked tentatively.
‘It would be my pleasure to escort you from Aldburg to Minas Tirith and directly to Osimir’s. It is on the way to my father’s house in the city after all, and then you can meet him too while we are there…’
Frea’s mind was finding her change in fortune difficult to trust. She desperately needed to speak with her cousins. They knew Amrothos and Lothíriel well. They would know if this was all real. She had winced when she heard the bells within Meduseld announcing the arrival of an expected guest. She remembered it from her first visit there, when she was almost fourteen and had just been told she was going to meet her future husband. It had been a most unwelcome shock. Her father had been Rohan’s envoy to Gondor. She had grown up mostly in Minas Tirith except for the summers when she roamed free with her cousins Éomer and Éowyn in Aldburg, although mostly with Éomer who was less than two years younger than her. But Théodred – he was so much older! And he seemed wholly disinterested in her. He did not look at her in the same way as most other men. She could not imagine herself with him. The boorishness of Meduseld, the simplicity of its entertainments, nothing could induce her to marry into that life and be there trapped forever. It sapped her very soul.
And so only a few weeks later, back in Aldburg and before their engagement was to be officially announced, she had seduced Éomer unwittingly into her plan to ensure she would never be allowed to marry Théodred, even if that meant her disgrace. Better that than a lifetime with a man she heartily disdained.
She entered the Great Hall with some trepidation, she had not seen either of her cousins since the day she had been packed off to Minas Tirith to avoid the scandal of her own making. While they had been in the city in the spring and summer, she had stayed hidden in Lossarnach. It was not until her friends had alerted her to Galador’s enquiries about the house had she dared return to meet with him and arrange her visit to Aldburg. She need not have been concerned, both Éowyn and Éomer swept her up in a fond embrace in front of all who happened to be in the Hall at that time, before they escorted their cousin arm in arm to the King’s quarters.
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‘Éadred,’ Éowyn called out to one of the passing serving boys as she left the King’s quarters to call for something more special than had already been provided, ‘could you ask Findhalf to bring a bottle of the best mead to Éomer’s rooms. We have something of importance to celebrate, so the very best glasses, please.’
‘Of course, my lady. If you may, I know that Findhalf is on an errand in Loftshall, so if it is urgent I will bring the glasses and mead in myself,’ he suggested helpfully. Éowyn nodded her thanks and returned her brother and cousin.
Éadred raced to the Steward’s room in the kitchen bumping into his older sister, to whom he proudly announced he was to be serving the King and a beautiful red-haired lady. There was to be an important announcement, he confided in his sister his eyes shining with the thrill of being present. His sister ran immediately to their mother, one of the cooks, with the tale. ‘That’s Lady Frea, that is - the King’s cousin,’ her mother told all there, ‘she’s not changed a bit from when I worked at the King’s family home in Aldburg before Lord Éomund was killed. She was supposed to marry Lord Théodred, as I recall. It had been rather a scandal that the family had married her off to a Gondorian. She is of the blood royal, a direct descendent of Éorl himself and should be marrying royalty herself. Maybe this is what the excitement is all about! This would be an excellent match indeed…’
And so the story spread to general titillation and embellishment. Their King was going to marry and not to the Lady of Dol Amroth. She had left with her brother that morning, one of the maids had seen that all her belongings had already been packed up and her travelling clothes and bags were lying ready in her room. Perhaps she had refused their King, what cheek! or he had failed to ask her, which was almost as scandalous as it had generally been assumed that their alliance was certain, if not yet official. The kitchens were alight with enthralled speculation, until the chief cook herself was told the story and sternly reprimanded her staff for their presumptuous musings.
‘Stop this gossip, this instance! Until you have an official announcement, I will not have this kitchen turned into cesspit of rumour-mongering. Now back to work!’ she commanded, and no one ever went against the stern mistress of the kitchens, at least not when she was within earshot.
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As Lothíriel and Finglor rode towards the main gates of Edoras they found Geldsheen waiting for them just outside. He had come for Maela. Finglor dismounted gracefully and set Maela free to roam with her mate.
‘Please at least come with me and stay close to the Hall,’ Lothíriel begged Finglor. ‘I really cannot face this without you close by…’
‘We discussed this, Lothi. This you need to face on your own. You know this…’ he replied, firmly but not unkindly.
She walked her horse slowly upwards towards the Golden Hall, not wanting to hasten her humiliation, to be greeted in the courtyard by Genting and Trondig, who were mightily relieved to see her.
‘We were about to send out a search party for you. Trondig was expecting you to arrive ahead of him. Why are you alone? I thought Finglor was with you. I have an urgent message for him. Where is he?’ Genting asked earnestly.
‘Just go to the town gate and shout his name. He’ll hear you,’ she advised.
‘My Lady, the King is waiting for you in his chambers, perhaps you would like to change first?’ he suggested tactfully.
Lothíriel glowered and then laughed mockingly at herself. ‘Ever the diplomat, and ever a true friend, Genting. But my time with the King will be rather short tonight. I will be leaving at first light.’
‘My Lady, may I ask why? This will not be welcome news, I assure you.’ Genting asked suddenly full of concern.
‘I think you know why, Genting…’ she told him dolefully.
‘On the contrary, Lothíriel. I can think of no reason for you to leave us. Please, you must go and see him. He has something of great importance to say to you…’ he pleaded earnestly. He saw her brace herself on hearing his last words. ‘Lothi. What has happened between you?’
‘You have ever been a good friend, Genting, the best. Go and find Finglor. I will call into the kitchens on my way to the King and get some food sent out to him. I’m not sure he has eaten in days.’
At that, she patted Genting meaningfully on his arm almost as though she was trying to draw strength from him. His instinct urged him to follow her, but his message was of overriding importance. He was sure that once she had seen Éomer all would be finally settled and, taking comfort from that thought, he ran to the gates of the city to call for Finglor.
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Éadred congratulated himself with his foresight to bring in more than three glasses as he entered into the King’s chambers to find a fourth guest standing beside the fire talking animatedly with Lady Frea. Lord Delwine, who had risen high in prominence within Rohan since the end of the War of the Ring, was generally recognised as the new King’s foremost political advisor. It made sense to Éadred that he was present if the future of the Kingdom was under discussion. As he placed the glasses down in readiness to serve, Éowyn called over to him that she would take his place, indicating their preference for privacy. He observed that Lady Frea’s face was flushed with happiness in her conversation with Lord Delwine, who seemed equally pleased at the subject under discussion. The King and his sister appeared amused and almost relieved. Just as he was leaving, he overheard Éowyn laughingly say, ‘Perhaps we should think of a joint wedding the pair of us, if you think you two could wait that long…’ They all missed the look of excitement on Éadred’s face as he bounded back to his sister in the kitchen with what he considered official news.
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It was getting late, as well as dark. Lothíriel should have been with them by now. Éomer sent one of the guards to wait for Lothíriel’s arrival and beg her to join him as soon as she did. Éowyn had already taken their cousin to her chambers to extract all other news from her before she left early the next morning. Delwine remained with the King, who admitted that his hopes had been buoyed by Frea’s visit, however much it had been a shock: Amrothos and Frea! While Lothíriel had always been silent on the subject of her family with Éowyn and Éomer, she had been less cautious with Lord Delwine during their travels.
‘I assure you, Éomer, from what she told me Amrothos is as impulsive as Frea in affairs of the heart, but he is no liar and would never make a commitment such as he made to Frea without meaning it, as I told her just now. She is smitten… understandably. And you, Éomer. You are intending to ask Lothíriel before you ride east, I hope?’ his advisor asked expectantly.
‘I am.’ Éomer said resolutely. ‘I’ve been trying to find the right moment for weeks, but the moment never arose. I confess, the fact that she intends to buy the house in Aldburg gives me at least the indication that she intends to stay with us in Rohan. This was most telling, don’t you think?’
‘I’m not sure, Éomer. I feel there was something else at play in Aldburg, but you need to let her know that despite her own reservations about her suitability, you have none and you will wait for her to be ready, which by Béma for your sake, I hope will be soon,’ Delwine ended fervently.
‘At least I will know how she feels about me. Whether she can love me as I love her…’ he said almost wistfully.
‘On that score I have no doubts, Éomer. It is her doubts about herself that hold her back,’ his advisor wisely counselled.
‘Where is she? She must be here by now. Frea said that they couldn’t have left less than an hour after her…’ Éomer fretted.
The briefest of knocks came at the door and his face lit up in expectation, only to fall into desperate worry when Genting stormed in.
‘She’s gone, Éomer. I couldn’t stop her,’ he thundered. ‘What in Manwë’s name is this rubbish about your wedding to Frea? Tell me this is false,’ he demanded.
Delwine swiftly intervened between the two men, one in a towering rage, the other immobile in shock – for the moment. Delwine knew his King well, that shock would soon turn into a rage more than Genting’s equal.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Genting. It is Amrothos who has expressed an interest in marrying Lady Frea,’ Delwine said forcefully, inserting himself between Genting and his King.
‘Amrothos?’ It was Genting’s turn to descend into shock.
‘Yes, they met today. He has already asked her to marry him, and the lady is rather inclined having sought our collective opinion. When you say Lothíriel has gone…?’
Éomer snapped out of his dismay. ‘What? Alone? Let’s both saddle up we’ll catch her if we leave now if you know which direction she took,’ Éomer interrupted him, moving decisively towards the door. Genting stopped him and made him listen.
‘We won’t catch them, Éomer. She’s with Finglor. They are on the Mearas. We cannot catch them.’ Éomer’s face fell on the news. ‘But I am pretty sure I know where they are heading.’
‘She was here, yet did not come directly to me? Delwine, fetch Frea and my sister here. Marriage to Frea? She cannot possibly think…Why? I don’t understand,’ he groaned confused. ‘Why did you not escort her straight to me, Genting?’ he demanded aggressively, his quick anger rising once more.
‘I gave her your message to say you were waiting for her here, she seemed already in some distress when she arrived. That is not all, Éomer. I had an urgent message for Finglor… from Gallend.’ Genting stood his ground knowing the storm that was about to engulf him.
‘What?’ the King roared, his hands knuckled into fists about to strike.
‘This is from Théodred, Éomer,’ Genting said calmly, his palm unfurling to reveal a stone carved into the shape of a lyre. ‘Gallend gave it to me in Elbrond asking me to give Finglor a message as soon as he appeared, and then to give this to you. He told me your life and the future of Rohan depended on it. You must trust him. You will find that it matches that you found with Théodred when he was killed. They were working together. I had suspected this for some time.’
‘What? Have you been working as a spy against me?’ Éomer’s keen mind was knitting the information together quickly, but his anger remained in force.
‘You should know me better than that, my King’ came Genting’s tart reply.
‘I thought I knew Gallend better than that,’ he replied coldly.
‘And you do know Gallend, as he truly is. His loyalty to you, to Théodred and to Rohan has never faltered, whatever he allowed you, and for a while Théodred, to believe.’
‘Lothíriel? Is Finglor taking her towards danger? Where are they headed because if you tell me they are heading to The Wold, I will get on my horse and go after them, Mearas or not,’ he said determinedly.
‘They are not heading to The Wold, they went northwest. As I said, I have an idea of where they will go. Please let me take Trondig and we will track them. What message would you have me give her? I was still with Finglor when she came running up to us with her travel sacks. She looked mightily upset, I don’t want to lie to you….’ Éomer let out a cry of frustration and pounded the wall with his fist. Genting continued warily. ‘She was already astride Geldsheen when she told me to pass on her congratulations for your impending marriage to Frea and her apologies that she would not be present for it as she would be in the north… She took off before I could say anything more; she had caught me too much by surprise.’
‘Damn, damn! How could she think this?’ he bellowed.
‘I wondered the same and I retraced her steps. She was to come here via the kitchens to ask them to send out food for Finglor. I’ve just come from there myself. The kitchen staff are full of this rumour of your impending wedding to Frea. How they came to think this, I do not know. You know how silent Lothíriel can be, she’s almost as good as Finglor. I can only imagine that this is what she overheard, and she could not bring herself to face you,’ he surmised. ‘She is in love with you, Éomer, of this I am sure. Now more than ever. If she was not, this would not be her reaction.’
‘You must find her for me, Genting. You must get my message to her.’
Éowyn burst into the room, swiftly followed by Frea and Delwine.
‘Is it true? Lothíriel has gone? I’ve come from her room. All her travel bags are gone and the room is packed up. You must go after her, Éomer,’ his sister ordered.
‘I cannot, Éowyn. They are on the Mearas and I must take the Éoreds to The Wold. You know this. Genting will take Trondig and find her for me…’
‘I will, my Lady Éowyn. I will find her,’ Rohan’s Master of Horse confirmed.
‘I will come with you…’ Éowyn began before her brother interrupted her.
‘I need you here, Éowyn. You are to be in charge of the land if things go ill. I trust no one else but you to do this task. You have proved yourself a leader. Théoden king had already assigned you this task and I reaffirm this. Lothíriel is with Finglor, he is sworn to protect her. We must not forget that. Genting will find her,’ he said with a conviction Genting appreciated beyond measure. Then, more ominously, he ordered, ‘I want Éadred brought in here, now.’
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As Genting and Trondig set off at first light, he reflected on how easily gossip, however well-intentioned, could have such disproportionate consequences. When Trondig had eventually been questioned, he relayed his limited understanding of what had occurred in Aldburg and a clearer picture of the misunderstanding emerged. Éowyn gained Éadred’s unswerving loyalty when she interceded on his behalf, blaming herself for her indiscreet words uttered in his presence. ‘He is but a boy, Éomer. It was my decision to allow him to serve us and it was a bad one, but it was mine. He was not to know that we are a naturally affectionate family when we were all together in Aldburg. It is only in Edoras that we became so stiff. It was Lothíriel who taught us to hug again, so much so that it was just natural when Frea joined us. I can readily understand why it was misconstrued.’
Frea had been beside herself with worry. She had been the unwitting cause of all their distress, and not for the first time. She had felt guilty for years for the trouble she had caused Éomer on their last meeting; it was part of the reason for her lack of contact over the intervening years. Genting had heard quite a story from Théodred about how Éomer’s father, Éomund had found the pair in bed together when Éomer was almost twelve and his cousin just fourteen. A few moments later, Théodred had told him, and the Lady would have had a tail between her legs, as Théodred had crudely put it. Fortunately for all concerned she had been sent off to Minas Tirith within days where, only a few years afterwards, she had had to be married to her Gondorian captain, whose son she bore six months’ later. Théodred had been most relieved as he was very sure that he was not the man to have been able to keep her satisfied had they been forced to marry.
But the consequences for Éomer had been quite different and by all accounts, he had never been the same. Genting felt keenly for both Éomer and Lothíriel. He had no doubt as to how they felt about each other and would be only too glad to deliver the message Éomer had given him when he eventually caught up with her.
For his part, Éomer could only put his trust in his friend and Master of Horse, as he prepared to ride his Éoreds to The Wold and war.