Yours to Command

The Houses of Healing

"Does Prince Imrahil know about it?"

"Not yet," Lothíriel admitted.

Hareth chuckled. "I recognize that stubborn expression on your face. Shall I get your riding dress out?"

"Yes please," Lothíriel nodded. She pushed the tray away and swung her legs over the side of the bed, careful not to overset the remains of her breakfast.

She would have liked to wear the clothes Éowyn had lent her the day before, but Hareth informed her they were dirty and had to be washed first, so she settled on a light tunic with a traditional riding skirt instead. Just as her maid did up the last pair of laces, somebody knocked on the door.

"Lady Lothíriel!" She recognized the voice of one of the servants. "Prince Imrahil requests your presence in the library."

Before she had the chance to ask why, the girl left again. Lothíriel mentally reviewed the events of the night before, wondering if any of them might have aroused her father's displeasure. Had he heard about her solitary walk in the gardens?

However, when soon afterwards she joined her father in the library downstairs, a pleasant surprise awaited her.

"Lothíriel! How nice to meet you again." Éowyn's cheerful voice was unmistakable. "And dressed for riding already, how convenient."

Lothíriel found herself clasped in a quick embrace and then the other woman linked arm with hers. "We can be off straightaway then."

"Lady Éowyn, I'm not sure this is a good idea," her father intervened. He sounded downright flustered.

Lothíriel couldn't blame him, she felt a bit overwhelmed herself. "What idea?"

"Didn't you arrange with my brother to pay a visit to the Houses of Healing?" Éowyn asked.

"Why yes, but-"

"Good. He's going to meet us there." Éowyn gave her arm a quick squeeze. "Shall we go?"

"Lady Éowyn," her father protested. "Your offer is very kind, but I really think Lothíriel should have a day of rest today, to recover from the terrible ordeal she had to endure."

Lothíriel reached out a hand. "Please father, I'm fine. I said I would go and see that poor rider who got hurt in the attack yesterday."

He clasped her fingers. "Lothíriel dearest, are you sure? I do not want you to upset yourself with all those painful memories."

She only hesitated for a moment. "I think I can manage. Éowyn and Éomer will be along, after all. I feel that it is my duty to thank Guthlaf for what he did."

"Well..."

"Please, father?"

She heard him sigh and he released her hand. "Very well, daughter. I just hope you won't regret this."

Éowyn started to pull her towards the door. "That's settled then," she said. "I promise to deliver your daughter back safely...later."

The door shut behind them before Lothíriel even had the chance to say good-bye to her father and she found herself inexorably pulled forward.

"Hurry up before Prince Imrahil changes his mind," Éowyn whispered.

Lothíriel hastened her steps. "Why the rush?"

"Don't you want to attend the riding competitions later on today?" the other woman asked back.

Lothíriel had heard that in the afternoon, the Rohirrim planned races and displays of their horsemanship. "Why yes, I'd love to!"