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Lothiriel had been half in love with Eomer King by reputation before she had met him. Her father and brothers were full of stories about the King of Rohan when they returned to Dol Amroth after the Ring War. Lothiriel met Eomer for the first time at her cousin Faramir’s wedding. The King of Rohan had impressed her even more with his kindness to his sister and his graciousness when he thanked her for her help planning the wedding. She had hoped that he would ask for a courtship or correspondence before they both returned to their homes.
Instead, her father had informed her that she and Eomer King would be wed in one year. She had tried to write to her betrothed, but his responses had been short and terse. And now, after living in the Riddermark as his Queen for three years…this.
“Hail, Prince Elfwine! Heir to Eomer Eadig!” The call rang out in the Golden Hall, so loudly that Lothiriel could hear it from her bed. She was still recovering from the birth and unable to attend the feast.
Elfwine. Elf friend.
In other circumstances, she would think it a fine name. But her circumstances were that her husband was in love with another woman. And she knew that she was just a shadow of Queen Arwen in all ways. Lothiriel began to cry as she wished her husband loved her. Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep.
It seemed like no time had passed before Lothiriel was startled awake by her husband getting into bed, smelling of ale, and attempting to spoon her from behind. She stiffened before she tried to move out of his embrace.
“I’m still bleeding.” Lothiriel said, moving away from her husband's persistent snuggling. To her chagrin, this did not cause him to turn away from her and fall into an ale-addled sleep. No. Instead, Eomer sat up and, turning her on her back, began to interrogate her.
“Bleeding? Are you hurt? I mean, the birth, was it too much? Should we call the midwife?” He spoke so quickly that Lothiriel didn’t have a chance to answer any of his questions until he finally paused for breath.
“They said it’s normal. There’s no need to bother anyone.” Lothiriel said, hoping that he didn’t hear the rasp in her voice. She was disappointed again.
“What’s wrong?” Eomer said, turning away to light a candle. “Lothiriel! You’ve been crying! What’s wrong? Are you in too much pain?”
“I’m fine, it’s nothing.” She replied, hoping that maybe he would be too tired from the feasting to press her further. However, he seemed determined to disappoint her that evening.
“It’s not nothing if you’ve been crying! Please, tell me what’s ailing you and I’ll try to fix it.”
“You can’t fix this.”
They went back and forth for a few minutes. When she had first heard her brothers and father talking about Eomer of Rohan, she had been impressed by how steadfast and persistent he was in the face of evil. Now, as she felt herself losing control of her emotions in the face of his persistence, she wished he would just let it drop.
“I know that you’re in love with Queen Arwen!” She burst out when she could take no more. She glanced at her husband’s face when her accusation finally caused him to stop badgering her. He looked shocked. She went to turn her back on him, but he stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder, drawing her gaze back to his.
“What?! How…Why? What?!” Eomer sputtered before taking a deep breath. “I am not in love with Queen Arwen. Why would you think that?” He asked and Lothiriel rolled her eyes and struggled to sit up a little, feeling her anger reignite her spirit. She had gone along with this for far too long. Now that her duty was done, she felt it was better to have it out with Eomer.
“I have many reasons! Your now famous bet with Master Gimli, how you only asked my father for my hand in marriage and then ignored me, and-” Lothiriel cut off, embarrassed to say the reason that had weighed so much on her heart.
“And what? I wrote to you. But I’ve never written very long letters. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was ignoring you.” Eomer replied. And he seemed so earnest that she did believe him. About that, at least.
“I suppose, but that doesn’t make it less hurtful to me.” Lothiriel admitted and Eomer reached out to hesitantly take her hand.
“And what else? Please tell me, dear one.” Eomer asked in a soft tone. However, instead of reassuring her, Lothiriel felt her anger spike again. In fact, his soft tone roused her ire so much that it overcame her previous embarrassment.
“You say her name when we’re intimate!” She accused him and Eomer recoiled in shock.
“I do not!” He exclaimed, his own eyes flashing.
“You do! You say elf-something. I know you’re thinking of her when we’re…when we…” Overcome by her emotions, Lothiriel burst into tears again. Eomer tried to pull her into an embrace, but she pushed him away angrily.
“Lothig. Lothig, please.” Eomer begged. Lothiriel was so surprised by the pleading tone he took that her tears stopped and she looked at him in shock. He was blushing and seemed almost shy as he reached a hand out to her, gently touching her own hands which were clenched in her lap. He swallowed hard before continuing.
“I’m saying ælfsciéneu. I’m calling you ælfsciéneu. It means you’re beautiful. That you’ve an elfin beauty.” He explained in a halting manner. Lothiriel looked at their hands, not able to meet his gaze. His own hand was such a contrast to hers. His hands were almost twice the size of hers and had many callouses and even scars. She felt her heart soften and she started to hope, but she ruthlessly pushed those feelings aside.
“That just proves my point. I am no elf.” She replied after a lengthy silence. She watched as his hand clenched before he pulled it back and Lothiriel turned on her side, facing away from him. She began to cry again, not sobbing as she had been earlier, but she knew he could tell. She expected him to leave the room and sleep in his study. But instead, she felt his hand on her shoulder and he gently, oh so gently, turned her to face him. He looked heartbroken as he gently used his thumb to wipe her tears from her face.
“My darling. I think you do have a right to be very upset with me. Not because I’ve been unfaithful in my heart or my thoughts. But because I have not been open with you. I’ve tried to guard my heart from you as I’ve been afraid that showing you too much would scare you away. But now I see that I must tell you everything.” He took a deep breath and Lothiriel felt that she herself was holding her breath even as her heart clenched at his words.
“I’ll start at the bet with Gimli. I won’t deny that I did admire Queen Arwen. But it was in a distant way, the same way that someone would admire a painting. It was different when I met you at Eowyn’s wedding. It was different with you. I felt…I felt like I had been struck by lightning! Everything about you called out to me and I felt like I could barely breathe without your smile. I felt it even more every time we talked. You were, are, so kind and considerate of others; your heart so warm. I approached your father right away because I knew, even from the first moment we were introduced, that you were everything I had long desired in a wife and everything I needed as a queen.” He paused and Lothiriel stared at him in shock.
He had seemed so quiet to her when they had met. Not quite stern like her brother Amrothos had said, but serious. It was a surprise to her that he had felt so passionately and tenderly towards her when she had not perceived anything more than a mild attraction between them. She went to ask him a question, but held her tongue as it appeared that Eomer was gathering himself to tell her more.
“I felt I had to go to your father right away. I was worried that someone else would woo you, charm you. I am not charming and I have no experience wooing women, especially not one so gentle and sweet as you. I figured, once we were wed, I could show you how much I loved you. I could win you over in person.” He said and looked at her as though afraid of her response. Truthfully, Lothiriel was a little annoyed at his high-handedness, but one thing he had said seemed to overshadow all else.
“You love me?” She asked in a disbelieving tone.
“Of course! How could I not?” He asked and tentatively took her hand again. She did not pull her hand away and made herself look him in the eye.
“But you ignored me, Eomer. For all the months of our betrothal. I think the longest letter I got from you was four lines long!” Lothiriel said and was astonished when her husband blushed bright red.
“I’ve never been very good at expressing myself in words and I’m even worse on paper.” He glanced down before looking back up to meet her gaze again. “And my penmanship…” He trailed off.
“It was fine. Why would-”
“I had my scribe write it. My penmanship is miserable. I was…you are so intelligent and cultured and have a fine hand. I skipped so many of my lessons growing up to go riding or practice my swordsmanship and it shows most of all in my writing.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t- I didn’t. I’m sorry, Lothiriel. I’m sorry that my shame made you think I didn’t care about you.”
They continued in silence as Lothiriel thought about what her husband had said. He loved her, not Queen Arwen. He had loved her, Lothiriel, from the moment they had met! Having lived with Eomer for three years now, she thought about how he would always take her hand or put an arm around her shoulder to pull her close and kiss her brow. He was always very physically affectionate with her. At the time, she had thought it was due to his attraction to Queen Arwen and her passing resemblance, but she supposed it could be because he didn’t know how to express his feelings for her in other ways.
But, as she turned the matter over in her mind, she realized that there were other things too. When she first moved to Edoras, her furniture had been arranged in the rooms. Lothiriel hadn’t really thought much of it until Gytha, the housekeeper, had mentioned all the renovations to the royal apartments that Eomer had done before her arrival in an attempt to make the old rooms a brighter, happier living space. And when she had mentioned missing some of the fresh fruits from Dol Amroth, her husband had an orangery built to cultivate some of her favorites. Over the years she had lived here, many people told her that allowing her to sit on the Council, showed how much Eomer was pleased with her. She hadn’t been convinced, certain that Eomer was in love with another. But now, putting all those things together and recalling many other ways that he showed his support of her in her role as Queen and how he tried to see her daily comforts…she supposed that she could at least accept the possibility that her husband loved her.
After the silence stretched out for what seemed like an age, Eomer spoke again.
“Is this why you didn’t want to go to Mundburg with me last year? You thought I was in love with…another?” He asked. Lothiriel felt his hand flex and stared down where his hand was clasped around her own, almost like a caress. She looked up at his face. No, it was a caress.
“I- yes. I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you looking at her.” She answered in a low voice.
“Lothiriel.” He sighed out and pulled her into an embrace. She let him and this time, she didn’t pull away. “It’s always only been you.”
Lothiriel found herself crying again. But instead of bitter tears wept into her pillow, this time she cried tears of relief onto her husband’s skin. She felt Eomer’s arms tighten around her and she managed to gain control over her tears and press a light kiss into his skin. She felt him tense for a moment, before pulling back to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.
Lothiriel hardly knew what she felt as her husband lowered her to the bed and pulled her to himself, his arm around her. If not for his imposing size and generally serious nature she would almost think that he was cuddling her.
“I really am still bleeding.” She said, slightly worried that he would want to claim his rights as her husband. He let out a soft puff of air and made a displeased sound.
“Are you sure you don’t want to at least see the midwife?” He asked again. Lothiriel looked up and saw that he was looking down at her with a very worried look on his face. She smiled and reached up to brush her hand along his face. It was a gesture she had always wanted to make and finally felt brave enough to do so.
“They said it is normal. That it should last one or two months.” She reassured him and was surprised at how pleased she was when some of the worried furrows melted away from his brow.
“Alright.” He replied and moved to wrap his arms around her once again.
For the first time since they married, Lothiriel let herself relax in her husband’s arms and to feel the comfort of his embrace. His hand slowly travelled up and down her spine in a rhythmic motion and she realized that yes, her serious husband, one of the most fearsome warriors of Middle Earth, wanted to cuddle her. She smiled into his shoulder and let go of her fears and felt like a piece of her heart had unlocked in her chest.
“I love you too.” Lothiriel whispered as she drifted off to sleep.
Eomer smiled. The future was bright.