Acceptance.

Chapter Three.

The night was long and raucous. Food and drink flowed. The morrow would see the acceptance, but this night the Rohirrim feasted, and feasted well.

Dancing was called for and many couples took to the floor, the queen found herself in great demand and both marshal’s vied with partnering her. Lothiriel’s love of dancing was well known and oft times she had found herself being held close by her husband  as they took to the floor. But this night Eomer appeared to prefer the partnership of a tankard of ale than the close company of his wife.

He wanted nothing more than to carry his wife into their bedchamber and make passionate love to her. Frustration grew within him, and he deeply resented the interruption of their earlier conversation.

  The queen watched her husband closely as she danced. Watched him as another tankard of ale was downed. Prayed that he would not become too inebriated.

Eomer prowled round the circumference of the halls watching his queen dance with Elfhelm. She seemed to be enjoying the evening, her cheeks were flushed with the dance and she laughed at something that the marshal was saying to her. He stopped to watch the pair, his heart still pained from his forceful ministrations earlier that evening. ‘Oh my beloved’, he mused, ‘what has occurred to cause our estrangement.’

The pressure of a hand on his shoulder caused him to raise his head sharply, and standing before him was Ermenred, one of his advisors. Indeed Ermenred had been a rider with Theoden in his youth, but now he oft spoke words of wisdom whenever they debated in the council chambers. Eomer had much respect for him, and his words were always listened to and heeded.

“Majesty,” he bowed, as Eomer turned fully to face him. ”More ale?” he inquired with a broad grin.

“Nay, I have imbibed enough this night,” Eomer replied, “I would keep a clear head for the morrow. Is all in readiness, by the by?”

 ”I have come from the gates, all seems to be in place.”

“Thank you,” whispered Eomer.

Ermenred cocked his head to one side and pensively eyed his king, “Majesty..forgive me if you feel ’tis not my place…but is all well? You seem not yourself this eve,” he inquired tactfully.

Had it been any other man Eomer would have roared in his face and stormed off at such an affront to his privacy, but the older man before him had been there when his uncle had been in the thrall of Saruman, had been there when the news reached him of the death of his beloved cousin Theodred, and had been the first to greet him after the war, on his return to Edoras when he was hailed as King.

Eomer hesitated, not wanting to betray any trust on revealing the state of his relationship with his queen, and replied, “I am fine..all is well.”

Ermenred huffed slightly and placed both hands on his king’s broad shoulders, “I have known you since a lad, my lord, you could not tell an untruth then and that foible is still apparent I deem. I see, I am right,” he finished with a snigger as Eomer tried to bluster his way out of the conversation.

Ermenred went on regardless, “I have watched both your majesties, and I fear I might not be the only one in these halls to doubt your amiability this night. Now do not look at me that way Eomer Eomundson...” he scolded as the king’s eyes widened at that statement. ‘Is everyone in Meduseld now gossiping on the state of my marriage?’

 Eomer remained silent as he tried to rein in his emotions, feeling out of control with the situation. He stood, still watching his wife as she danced. ‘Is my wife truly happy with this? Does she trust me? Does she…does she fear our child might suffer some harm when….?”

“Eomer,” he spoke his name with the familiarity of an elder, “ Your wife is fearful of the ceremony, I feel.”

“How did..?”

“Never mind how I know, I just do. I have eyes, my king and I use them. Maybe the reign of Grima has left me with much insight, more than I would have liked or wanted. Be that as it may, I deem her heart fears for the safety of the babe.It is understandable that hailing from Dol Amroth she would not be so...shall we say… at ease with our horses, maybe a little un-trustful. And she is a loving mother but would fight to protect her young, no matter what. Do you understand my words sire?”

“Aye, Ermenred, I do,” smiled Eomer, feeling relief that his concerns were recognised by another, a man who he trusted to give him advice.

“Now heed, my king, I see Aescwyn approaching your queen, the babe must be in need of nourishmen,.” Ermenred stated. Eomer watched as his wife’s trusted maid made her way through the dancing couples. She whispered to his wife who then promptly excused herself from her guests and without a backward glance walked quickly from the halls to tend to the needs of their hungry infant.

“Go to her, Eomer,” whispered Ermenred.

“But the guests?” protested the King.

 “Go, I shall make your excuses,” answered his loyal friend, “Now, son,” he added, and gently gave Eomer a slight push to send him from the festivities to seek to make amends with his wife.

                                         ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was quiet and cool as she walked the corridors to the royal chambers. Lothiriel smiled as she heard the loud indignant cries from her hungry son and quickened her steps. A calmness reached her soul as he latched onto her breast, almost biting her with his need, “Ouch..my little man .. you are in haste this eve..Yes,  I know you are most pleased with your two little teeth.” She whispered to the babe, her face a picture of happiness as she gladly nursed him.

It took Eomer longer that he had wanted or intended to leave the halls. Many unintentionally tried to impede his departure, some to congratulate him, others to drink a toast to himself and his heir.

Eventually he reached the large carved doors to the royal apartments. Quietly he opened the outer door and closed it again softly. He kicked off his boots and  discarded his warm, richly embroidered robes, instantly feeling cooler and lighter wearing just a thin cambric under- tunic.

The door to their bed-chamber was slightly open and he could hear soft sounds coming from his queen. He stood by the door as Lothiriel cradled her son and crooned softly to him, “Are we not a hungry little one,” she whispered, causing Eomer to smile tenderly, and his eyes to mist over with love. “Just like your Papa,” she went on, as she sat Elfwine on her lap and he obligingly burped, “Yes, just like your Papa!” she giggled.

Lothiriel kissed his blonde curls and said softly, “Do not worry for the morrow, my sweet, Mama will be there, and she will not let any harm you. Be not afraid, I will be with you and shall not let the Chieftain frighten you…you will be safe..he just wants to look at you...to see you…and if he should frighten you…. Mama will chase him away with a big stick…” she carried on now murmuring sweet nonsense.

Eomer listened intently to her words, ‘Be not afraid,’ he mused, ‘Is the babe is too young to feel so?… Mayhap this what my wife fears?…’ his thoughts drifted on and then he realised of a sudden her should let his wife know of his presence.

He opened the door with as much noise as would not startle her. Lothiriel looked up and her eyes widened at the surprise of seeing him there. She had thought by the way he had been drinking that he would have stayed the night through.

“My lord,” she began, “You leave our guests?”

“They are being well entertained by Marshal Erkenbrand, my Queen,” he replied with a small smile, “And Ermenred. ‘Twill be finishing anon, all will be seeking their rest to prepare…” he broke off as he saw his wife frown at the mention of that.

He strode to the window and gazed out briefly and then turned to face Lothiriel. She watched him intently, and smiled as Elfwine waved his chubby arms in the direction of his father.

“Methinks someone wants you,” Lothiriel laughed.

Eomer dropped to the floor and crawled over to his son making the little growling noises that the child loved to hear. Elfwine chuckled smiling gummily as his eyes followed his father. Then Elwine giggled as he felt himself being swung in the air by his father, causing more laughter from his parents.

Aescwyn walked into the room, stopping suddenly to curtsy as she knew not that the king was within.

 “Forgive me, sire,” she said.

“No matter,” Eomer mumbled.

“Aescwn, will you settle the prince, for me, “ asked the queen, “ When he is so, you may go to your own rest. I shall not need you ‘til the morn.”

“Yes, my Queen,” answered Aescwyn, rather wide eyed as her lady always did this, but it was not her place to inquire or ask questions. She carried Elfwine to his crib, covered him and left the chamber quietly. Eomer locked the door after her, so he could have some long over due privacy with his wife.

Lothiriel sat quietly, wondering what words would come forth, tensing slightly with anticipation. She raised her head sharply as Eomer spoke but so deep was she in her thoughts that she had to ask again, “Sorry, my king, what say you? I heard not what you spoke.”

Eomer sighed and repeated his question, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she replied simply.

He took her hands gently. ”Now I will ask again, do you trust me?”

Lothriel looked up into his dark eyes which seemed filled with so much pain and anguish she almost broke down. She had caused some of that hurt, she thought ruefully.

“I do trust you, my king…I.. I do not..”

“Do not what..” he pressed gently.

“The chieftain…our son is so small yet and so young…I fear…” Tears broke her words as her long built up emotions and fears came tumbling out. Eomer took her in his arms as she wept for her son, and wept for the hurt she had caused her husband with her forward tongue.

They remained so until Lothriels tear’s and shuddering had stopped. Eomer held her close and whispered soothing words to ease her anguish.

Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed-chamber where they lay down together, still entwined.

Lothiriel snuggled closer to her husband and lay her head on his chest, the better to look at him as they spoke. “I am not born of this land, yet I am queen over its people,” she explained, “ But if you trust so, then so will I.”

“Truly?”

“Truly, I have been foolish in this, and you have just cause to feel anger with me. I but speak with the heart of a mother, not a queen,” Lothiriel said with much emotion.

“Nay, my beloved, ‘tis I who have been so. Without you by my side, the ceremony would be pointless. You are mother to a king, the next king of the Riddermark, but you are also my beloved wife and I have neglected to see yours fears in this,” answered the king. “Apart from the day we wed and the birth of our son, tomorrow will be one of the proudest days of my life, and one which our people will long remember.”

Lothiriel looked at her husband and her fears diminished as he spoke. How could she have worried so? Eomer was a man of honour and his word was his bond, he would never tell her an untruth and would not cause or be the cause for any harm to either her or their son. She leaned over and kissed him lightly.

“I feel I have not trusted you enough, my beloved, but now I realise I was wrong, wrong about many things. Please forgive me, my words were harsh, I still feel shame of that. I do love you, my king, you are my life.”

Eomer raised himself on one elbow and leaned over her, gently caressing her shoulder, “Nay, my love, there is nothing to forgive, ‘tis forgotten. Tomorrow is before us, yesterday is gone.” He kissed her on the forehead and then softly round her hair- line. ”I love you so much, my life is naught without thee.”

“As I love you, my king,” Lothiriel replied in a husky voice. Eomer lowered his head and kissed her deeply, feeling her small hands round his shoulders as if to pull him closer and closer. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on hers whilst trying to stem the rush of passion that was rising. He wanted not to facilitate any love-making even though the throbbing in his loins called out for release.

He lay on his back and pulled his queen to snuggle next to him. Lothiriel sighed as she laid her head on his shoulder again.

“Twill be a long day for our son I fear,” Eomer stated.

“Aye I expect so, but he has given me his word to behave like the prince he is,” giggled Lothiriel, as Eomer leaned over her again, and looked deeply in her eyes.

 “I would hear you laugh again more often,” he chided gently,” It has been one of the things I have missed most, these past days.”

“What others have you missed, my king?” she purred up at him, eyes wide with innocence.

“I think you know,” he growled back at her.

She had thought he might kiss her but instead his hands lowered to her waist as he started to tickle her, causing her to beg for mercy through her tears of laughter.

TBC

A.N. MANY THANKS TO HELENA FOR BEING MY BETA READER. YOU ARE THE BEST.