#sirrin

Eomer thought that his life would be less complicated after the War, but loving a woman he could never have made that unlikely.  Then unexpected circumstances altered everything. Complete in 5 chapters.

 Chapter 3    (April, 3020 III)

During the course of the winter, Eomer finally believed he was beginning to get his feelings for Lothiriel under control.  The pain that had eaten at his insides had subsided to a dull ache.  As promised, she had written to him, newsy letters of the happenings in both Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith, but she was careful to keep the tone of the missives light and airy, not delving too deeply into any areas that might stir up flames. He responded in kind, saying nothing substantial but maintaining their contact as he had said he would.  He very much suspected that once she was married, the letters would stop anyway.  Surely Gaerost would not wish her to continue the correspondence, if he learned of it – that is, unless he felt there was something to be gained by it.  Eomer knew it was a cynical view of the man, and possibly he was doing him a disservice, but in all their associations Eomer had been unimpressed with Gaerost.  Maybe his view was colored by the circumstances, but he did not think so. He had never had much use for men like Gaerost; that he was betrothed to Lothiriel was only an added reason to dislike him.

As spring finally arrived and the temperatures warmed, he still had not reached a decision about attending Lothiriel’s wedding.  An announcement had come, fixing the date for the 25th of May, but though he thought it might be rude to Imrahil, he was not sure he could put himself through that torture.  He had promised to always be her friend, but did that necessarily include such torment?  He could not decide, so he deferred the choice a little longer.

He had written to Imrahil, and Lothiriel, in late February but as yet received no response, which he thought odd, though it did not overly worry him.  Possibly both were just very busy at the moment and would write when time permitted. Even so, it took until mid-April before the expected packet came from Dol Amroth.  As Lothiriel had been a faithful correspondent, sending a letter in every packet, however brief it was, he was a little surprised to find nothing from her included.  Thinking perhaps Imrahil’s missive would offer some reason, he quickly slit the seal to read it.

 My dear friend,

I must apologize for taking so very long in responding to your letter.  Sadly, I have a very good reason for my tardiness, for our family is facing a great tragedy just now.

Eomer sat up straighter and pulled the letter closer into the light of the lamp, his attention riveted where it had not been before.

 I would not alarm you, Eomer, but our sorrow concerns our daughter, Lothiriel.

 Not alarm him!  His heart was in his throat, and he felt a terror like nothing he had ever felt in battle.

 She is…well, as well as can be expected under the circumstances.  There was a most unfortunate accident.

 Imrahil’s handwriting had become unsteady then, making his words difficult to read, and the ink was smudged in spots, as though dampness had been blotted from the paper.  Fervently, Eomer scanned more quickly – he must know the details.

 Lord Gaerost had suggested that it might be better if Lothiriel were to learn to ride using a sidesaddle, as other refined ladies do in Gondor.  I had never pressed that issue prior to this, but as it seemed important to him and Lothiriel was willing, she undertook the learning of it.

As you might expect, it is a tricky proposition and likely it would have been better to use a steadier animal than Lothiriel’s usual mount, but alas we see perfectly in hindsight, do we not?  The horse became fractious and Lothiriel lost her balance.  Her horse reacted poorly to the shift in Lothiriel’s weight and my daughter was thrown upon the pavement.  There is a decorative border of stones near the stables – ones that never seemed all that dangerous until that moment.  The side of her face was slashed by one of them, only just missing damage to her eye.  The healers have treated her with the utmost delicacy, but there is little doubt she will bear an unsightly scar along her face, from brow to chin, despite their efforts. Aragorn has been kind enough to prepare an ointment used by the Elves that is good at reducing scars, but only so much may be done.  Now she keeps to her bed, refusing to be seen outside of her room, and only permitting a very few to enter there.

I confess I am greatly disappointed in Lord Gaerost.  I do not blame him for the accident, do not misunderstand.

 Eomer wasn’t so sure that wasn’t too generous on Imrahil’s part! Lothiriel!  Beautiful, lovely Lothiriel – to be so marred.

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