#seftehad

An unexpected event and a chance encounter bring Lothiriel of Dol Amroth and the King of Rohan together. Now, neither of their lives will ever be the same as they were.  [Complete in 24 chapters]

 Chapter 13

Lothiriel had felt inactive and unhelpful all these many days, but now her days were crammed full. Gardening occupied her morning, then sewing all afternoon and dancing lessons in the evening.  At least she felt justifiably tired, when she tumbled into her bed at day’s end.  She had never realized that tiredness could be a good feeling, carrying with it a sense of accomplishment.  She had been tired before, but that resulted more from boredom and too much idleness. Productive activities were a far more enjoyable and interesting way to spend her days.

The dress was finished the next afternoon, and Lothiriel had joined Seftehad and a couple of her friends in making the other preparations – deciding what else she would wear, how her hair would look and preparing for the meal to be served to their guests. It was only to be a small gathering, though anyone in town who wished was invited to witness the couple speaking their vows.  Eomer had given permission for them to partition a corner of the hall for their wedding meal.

The only other wedding plans Lothiriel had ever been directly involved in were when her older brother married his wife.  She had not yet reached twenty years of age, and was pleased to be included.  Usually it was just the bride’s family and friends who attended her, and with no sisters or female cousins, Lothiriel was inexperienced with the practice. 

Though that had been her one and only chance to assist a bride, it was of no help to her now. Gondor’s traditions were not the same as those in the Riddermark, not to mention the differences between noble marriages and the wedding of common folk.  But the giggling girls gathered for the preparations were a cheery bunch, and Lothiriel was delighted to be invited to participate, as well as being treated as one of them.

xxxxx     (Jun 23)

The morning of the actual wedding dawned bright and sunny.  Even the wind had died down, as though holding its breath in anticipation. Both Ceorl and Seftehad had been released from their duties through the end of June, that they might have the chance to settle into their home and begin to build their married life.  With Ceorl leaving just a few days later, to be gone a month on the journey to Minas Tirith, they were particularly grateful for this respite.

Ceorl had purchased a small house on a backstreet midway up the hill, and along with friends he had put the last touches on it the night before the marriage was to occur.  After they finished, all the men ate supper together and drank toasts well into the evening as the married men teased Ceorl about the changes to come in his life once he had a bride.

Eowyn’s gift to the couple was to be the wedding meal itself and the Meduseld kitchens were full of activity.  Lothiriel was overseeing getting the tables and benches set up and arranged to her satisfaction, and then she collected the plants from the garden that she would use as the basis of the wedding wreath.  This tradition was not one that they knew in Gondor.  As it had been explained to her, a plain wreath shape was the foundation, and then guests added various plants that symbolized well wishes to the couple:  health, happiness, fertility, protection and so forth. 

There was not a great abundance of flowers in the Meduseld garden just yet, but Eomer had told her to take whatever she wanted since she was responsible for the garden blooming at all. Ivy was easy, and simple to work into the desired position.  That formed her base, but she also added roses as a symbol of the couple’s love for one another.  She would have to wait until the meal to see what others brought.

Weddings could take place almost anywhere, but with the King’s permission, they chose the steps of Meduseld so that everyone would be able to see the brief ceremony.  Even for those who barely knew the two that were marrying, it was a cause to celebrate – renewal, rebirth, rebuilding.  All events they particularly wanted to see happen now.

The only weddings Lothiriel had ever witnessed were among the nobility of Gondor, and therefore far more elaborate.  Not that the ceremony itself was appreciably longer, but that the nobles liked to take the opportunity to display their wealth and importance in their clothing, the decorations and the other related activities. 

It had sometimes felt to Lothiriel more as though they were putting on a show for others than they were celebrating a special event in their own lives.  While she understood that many of their marriages were planned alliances, based on the benefit each brought to the union, she had never understood why they did not at least try to make it personal and special as much as they could.

Shortly before the noon hour, everyone was gathered and the principal people involved took their places. Ceorl and Seftehad faced one another, one step down from Eothain standing on Meduseld’s terrace.

 continue reading on AO3:

An unexpected event and a chance encounter bring Lothiriel of Dol Amroth and the King of Rohan together. Now, neither of their lives will ever be the same as they were.  [Complete in 24 chapters]

 Chapter 12

(17 Jun 3019 III)

It had been easier than she expected, leaving Erchirion to his own devices.  At breakfast, they sat with the riders and he renewed acquaintances. Since he was eager to see how the military and defense was conducted in Rohan, he gladly accepted their offer to tag along during their day to see it firsthand.

That settled, she caught Seftehad’s eye and they arranged to meet after the noon meal was finished and Seftehad was at leisure.

“I am sorry that the arrival of my brother interrupted our work.  I will see if I can speed things along today.”  Lothiriel led the way into the sitting room.

“Oh, do not feel bad – of course you wanted to spend time with your brother after being apart from him for so long.  With all you are doing for me, I can hardly begrudge you that!”

“What is that?” Lothiriel had only been half listening to Seftehad’s reassurances, her mind on the work they were about to do, but now she had glimpsed fabric draped over a chair.  She might have thought Seftehad had put it there, but the material was far too fine for that to be the case, and it was not something Eowyn would have either.

“I don’t know, but there is a note,” Seftehad said, pointing to paper pinned to the fabric.

Quickly Lothiriel unpinned it, and read the short missive, before smiling and handing it to Seftehad. “It is for you.”

“Me?”  As Seftehad took the note, Lothiriel picked up the dress to get a better look.  “What…what does it say?”

Lothiriel had forgotten that although many in Rohan could speak the Common Tongue, few could read or write it.  “Lady Arwen is giving you this dress to remake as your undergown.”

Seftehad gasped.  “The woman who will be Queen of Gondor gave me a dress?  But, why would she do that?”

“I think perhaps she wishes to contribute to your wedding day.  When I was showing her around Meduseld, we came here and she saw your drawing.  I explained how we were not able to make the dress as you envisioned.  She commented that you should have a fine underdress, but did not mention a gift forthcoming.  I suppose she wished to surprise you.”  And, Lothiriel guessed, perhaps Arwen felt the woman would be less embarrassed if the gift were not given in person.

“I…I can’t believe it!”

Lothiriel rubbed her hand over the dress.  It was the softest material she had ever felt.  “I had heard that the Elves were exceptional in all crafts, and that their clothing was beyond compare, but I have never had occasion to see for myself until now.  This is marvelous!”

Seftehad glanced away, then said determinedly, “Then you must have it.  A lady such as you would better suit it, I am sure.”

“Nay,” Lothiriel laughed. “It was a gift to you, and I shall not undermine my Queen’s kindness!”  Turning away, she ran a hand over the material again and then added, “Oh, this will be wonderful!  It will make a gorgeous underdress for you, and perhaps that will help you be less discouraged that we could not make your wedding dress exactly as you wanted.”

Impulsively, Seftehad hugged the other woman.  “Thank you for all you have done, for all you are doing!  I am disappointed that my vision will not be realized, at least not in this dress, but you have made it better than I could have hoped for by my own hand.”

Lothiriel smiled as she returned the hug.  “You are very welcome.  Now, then, let us get to it.  If you hope to marry Ceorl before he rides with us to Minas Tirith next month, we must get busy on this dress.”

 continue reading on AO3:

An unexpected event and a chance encounter bring Lothiriel of Dol Amroth and the King of Rohan together. Now, neither of their lives will ever be the same as they were.  [Complete in 24 chapters]

 Chapter 11

(14 June 3019 III)

Not surprisingly, Lothiriel slept far into the morning.  Eowyn or Eomer must have instructed the servants not to disturb her, for the sun was well up when at last she rose.  It had not seemed as though her exertions had been terribly strenuous the previous day, but apparently the cumulative effect had taken a toll.  She decided she would try to have a leisurely day and then go back to working in the garden.  And she wanted to seek out Seftehad, too.  They could arrange to work on her dress.  Perhaps they could start that since sewing should not be tiring.

Most of the injured from the previous night had already departed, though the cots had not yet been put away.  The few who remained had been moved over to the side and surrounded by screens to afford privacy. 

Breakfast was long over, but as dinner was not near enough, she ventured to the kitchens to get bread and fruit to tide her over.  Seftehad was there, cutting up vegetables for the stew at noon day, and Lothiriel settled into a chair to talk to her while she worked and Lothiriel ate.

“Ceorl is well?  He said his injury was not serious, but men will never admit when they are hurt.”

Seftehad laughed. “True.  But he is well enough.  The healer cleaned and bandaged it.  He said for Ceorl to return tomorrow to have him take another look and be sure it is not infected.”

“So, when would you like to meet and work on your dress?” Lothiriel asked, popping the last bite of bread into her mouth.

Seftehad hands stilled over her work.  “You were serious about that?”  She did not look at Lothiriel.

“Of course I was!  You need help, I can sew and Ceorl has been very kind to me.  Three very good reasons for me to offer my assistance.  That is, if you wish it.  Perhaps you prefer to do it entirely on your own?”

“Oh, no!”  Seftehad whirled to look at her.  “I should indeed like your help, would be very grateful to have it.  Much as I wanted to do it all on my own, it has not been going well.  Either I let someone help me or I give up on the dress entirely.  At the rate I am going, I will not finish it before both of us are dead and gone.”

Lothiriel smiled.  “I doubt you are that bad, but perhaps I can guide you sufficiently that you may do most of it yourself, at least enough to satisfy you.”

“I…I am done working around three this afternoon.  Ceorl will not be finished with his shift until suppertime.  We could meet in between.”

“That would be fine. After yesterday, I look forward to a less arduous day.  I may simply read until then, or do the mending I managed to talk Durucwen into giving me.  Where shall we meet?  In your room or mine?  Or I could see if Eowyn would let us use her sitting room.  There is a large table in there.”

“I share my room with two others.  It is crowded if they are there, and I would not want to displace them.  I could come either place that you prefer.”  It was evident to Lothiriel that Seftehad was reluctant to impose on anyone.

Lothiriel stood.  “I will speak with Eowyn and then let you know where we will work.  I am looking forward to this!  Mending is needful, but sewing wedding clothes is simple pleasure!”  Seftehad beamed at her before turning back to her work.

That settled, Lothiriel wandered back to the main hall in search of Eowyn.  She was not in sight, so Lothiriel continued out to the terrace for the fresh air.  The smell of smoke yet hung in the air, though she could not discern any sign of smoke rising from the direction of the burned ruins.  She wondered what would become of those who were displaced by the loss of the buildings.  She had heard that at least one of them was a home.

 continue reading on AO3: