Chapter 4

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During the next days it was as he had feared, all his time got taken up with matters that had accumulated during his long absence, and as a result he hardly saw Lothíriel at all. Both Erkenbrand and Elfhelm came to visit once they heard of his return. Meanwhile his council had been busy with schemes for rebuilding the villages in the West-mark. Saruman's orcs had wrought great devastation there and he took a personal interest in making sure everything possible was done to ease his people's hardship. He also held a grievance day to settle disputes and saw Lothíriel with her brother amongst the attending crowd, but was too busy to talk to her.

For the evening meal, she seemed to consider her place to be amongst the elderly matrons. Meduseld stood open to the families of all current or former riders of the king's personal éored, and many widows of Théoden's knights came every day. He saw her talking to Leofrun, whose husband Háma, chief of the doorwardens, had fallen at Helm's Deep, but also to Éothain's wife Eanswith. One evening he stopped by to ask how she was settling in, conscious of a great many eyes on them. Not that she seemed to notice anything, smiling at him as serenely as always, answering that she had all she needed.

Well, he didn't, but still had no idea how to woo this woman who had forsworn the world. And cheerfully so too. Often at night he heard her next-door, talking to Khuri or laughing with Tarcil, while he got ready for his cold, lonely bed. It made him want to gnash his teeth.

He had not forgotten his promises though. So when one day he encountered Khuri in the corridor outside his rooms, he invited her down to the training grounds. The woman gave him an unreadable look in answer.

"If you want to keep your edge, you need to practise with real opponents," he pointed out to her.

She only gave a curt nod, and he wasn't sure if she would take him up on his offer, but a few days later she turned up at the training fields outside Edoras, accompanied by Lothíriel and Tarcil. Éomer was in the middle of a bout with Amrothos, but they broke it off to go and greet them.

The boy was sitting proudly atop his new pony, a sturdy, well-bred animal from the royal herds, but Éomer noticed that Lothíriel was still riding her aunt's horse Mellon, even though he had encouraged her to borrow one from his stables. He sighed inwardly. She was willing to be beholden to him for her son's sake, but not for her own. Unless he could persuade her that she was doing him a favour by exercising one of his horses, he would probably never see her suitably mounted.

He would have liked to give her dresses in rich, bright colours and jewellery worthy of her beauty, horses and furs, all the traditional courting gifts of a rider of the Mark, but he knew they would not be welcome. Éomer sighed again. The only thing in his power to give her was time.

When he introduced Khuri to Tunfrith, his master-at-arms, and showed her the protective gear and blunted weapons they practised with, a murmur of 'scildmaegden' went up amongst his men. She ignored it and after a quick inspection settled on a pair of short swords that were the most similar to the curved scimitars she wore on her back.

Tunfrith set her up against one of his smaller fighters first. The man regarded her warily as they saluted each other. None of Éomer's riders took a woman warrior lightly – Éowyn had taught them that.

A wooden fence surrounded the training fields, which was a popular place for the female population of Edoras, as well as fellow warriors, to watch the fights. Lothíriel helped Tarcil sit on one of the bars, then climbed up herself. She gave her brother and Éomer a friendly smile when they joined her.

"Now this should be interesting," Amrothos said. "I've never seen her fight."

"I have," Lothíriel said, then suddenly pressed her lips together.

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