Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Of Swans and Horses : Queen of the Riddermark	By : lynnwood84 Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General Views: 5558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Six
Misunderstandings
~~*~~

Edoras, Rohan
May 6^th of the year 3020
T.A.

�� Loth�riel
felt her eyes widen, staring at the awe-inspiring vista before her. The
grasslands stretched out for at least a mile or more, and on the horizon an
enormous hill jutted out of the otherwise flat plains. Buildings and rooftops
dotted the entirety, the perimeter surrounded by jutting palisades, and at the
top, an enormous building that was far larger than the rest. That would be
Meduseld, the Golden Hall, ancestral seat of the King of Rohan.
�� They
had reached Edoras at last.
�� Loth�riel
could have wept with relief. At last, she could get a real bath in warm water,
she could sleep in a real bed, and�for a few hours at least�she could escape
the prying eyes of everyone around her and have a few moments peace to herself.
Over the past few days she had become so confused and turned about she wasn�t
really sure which way was up anymore. Everything had become so complicated. She
wasn�t even sure when or why.
�� Following
Elphir�s visit, Loth�riel had promised herself that she would do her utmost to
follow his advice and act more like a true princess of Gondor. She had
conducted herself in a way that even her Aunt Ivriniel wouldn�t have been able
to find fault in, keeping her expression carefully neutral, her words few and kept
a careful distance from all who were not related to her. Where before she might
have sought out the King or one of his Riders to ask them about the land they
were traveling through�eager to soak up any new knowledge like a sponge to
water�she instead kept to herself and remained aloof and withdrawn, as ladies
were expected.
�� Her
father seemed intrigued by her change of temperament, her brother Elphir very
pleased, and her other brothers threw her confused looks but said nothing. It
was hard to tell what Faramir was thinking exactly, though Eowyn seemed
troubled. Again, however, the White Lady offered no advice on what she found
lacking in her behavior.
�� What
worried her the most, however, was that it took no great scholar to tell that something
was bothering her soon-to-be-husband. When they had stirred for travel that
first morning, his face had been dark and distant. Even if she was inclined
to approach him, his thunderous expression would have kept her at bay. His mood
did not improve during their last week of travel, indeed it only seemed to
worsen. Until he was growling and snapping at everyone but Eowyn and spending
most of his time not in a saddle in ill-tempered solitude.
�� Loth�riel
was terrified that she was the cause. Perhaps his �ored had begun
speaking ill of her to him, telling him that they didn�t feel she was a worthy
Queen of their land. Perhaps he was even now brooding on a way to break their
betrothal before the wedding could take place, binding him eternally to a
horrid mistake.
�� This
thought only firmed her resolve to do everything in her power to act properly
and show the people of Rohan�including her betrothed�that she could do this
right.
�� As
they neared the city, three of the Rohirrim raised horns to their lips and
released a deep and strangely eerie sound, one that sent the hairs on her arms
and the back of her neck to stand on end. Amrothos and Erchirion had told her
of the sound of Rohirrim horns, last heard on the Fields of Pelennor when the
Horse-Lords had come unexpectedly to their people�s aid. They had laughed and
said it was a sound that the Orcs of the Black Land would not soon forget. She
now had no doubt of it.
�� Moments
later, an answering bellow sounded from within the city, and then the enormous
gates of Edoras began to open.
�� People
lined the main street to see their procession pass. Most were yelling and
cheering at the return of their King, but also at the return of Lady Eowyn as
well, Loth�riel suspected. Both of them were smiling and waving to their people
as they passed. Loth�riel watched it all enviously, wondering if she might one
day garner such a loving and devoted response. Not even in Dol Amroth were the
people so openly affectionate of their sovereigns.
�� As
they traveled through, the Riders began breaking away in groups, heading off to
their own stable yards she assumed, until only the King and everyone from
Gondor remained. They continued through until the streets of Edoras gave way to
the base of a higher plateau. Here there was a huge stable and what Loth�riel
guessed to be guard houses and watch towers. Eomer led the procession into the
stable, where several hands stood ready to attend him.
�� Have
the horses unsaddled, rubbed down and stalled,� Eomer called out as he
dismounted. �Haleth, show Prince Imrahil�s men where they can bed down,� he
continued as he handed Firefoot�s reins to one of the stable boys. The young,
armored Rohirrim at the door motioned, and the Swan Knights slowly filed out
behind him.
�� Eomer
led everyone else out of the stables and then up a lone, broad stair, which led
up to a wide green terrace and a paved area on which sat the Golden Hall itself,
it�s thatched roof gleaming like pure gold in the afternoon sun. �Guards stood
at every corner, two at the huge carved doors themselves that faced northward
and would lead inside. They were carved in the shape of several beasts and
birds with jewels for eyes and golden claws�a truly magnificent sight. Several
of the white horse banners and pennons flapped madly in the strong breeze that
blew, and also tore mercilessly at her cloak and skirts. Loth�riel bowed her
head slightly against it and hurried after the group, not wanting to be left
behind.
�� The
men standing sentinel all snapped to attention at Eomer�s approach. He
acknowledged them with a weary nod, then allowed them to push open the doors
for him. The heavy portals gave way with a loud and thunderous creak, telling
of its immense size as well as its age. The Gondorian princess was suitably
subdued by it and what came next.
�� The
entryway opened up into an immense grand hall. The high roof was supported by
pillars that were decorated with carvings painted gold and green. There was a
louver in the ceiling high above their heads that let out smoke and let in
light. Light also came into the hall through slitted, unglazed windows under
the eaves on the eastern side. All around them, great tapestries hung on the
walls depicting scenes and people that were no doubt important to the
Rohirrim�s history. Loth�riel was as of yet unfamiliar with any specifics, but she
suddenly itched to discover their secrets. The woman in her also took note that
many of the beautiful pieces looked as though they had gone too many years in
neglect, showing the dust of time and faded with age.
�� In
the middle of the hall was a long hearth, currently cold. And finally, at the
south end of the hall facing the door was a dais with three steps, and on the
dais was a great gilded chair; the King�s Seat, throne of the Kingdom of Rohan.
Eomer paid it little heed as he turned immediately to two large, armored men.
One was red-headed with a great, bushy beard to match. The other possessed
fairer chestnut blonde locks.
�� Erkenbrand,
Elfhelm, how fares Edoras?� The men, though at least a decade or more older
than the young King, both gave him a deep bow of respect.
�� My
Lord, it is good to see you returned safely,� the redhead announced. �All has
passed peacefully during your absence. Only a few minor details need your
attention, which,� he hastened to add, at Eomer�s pained look, �certainly may
wait until you have bathed and rested at least.�
�� Eomer
smiled slightly, the first time in many days, and reached up to clasp the older
man�s shoulder a moment in a show of thanks before he gave the other the same,
then turned to make introductions. Eowyn and Faramir were both met warmly, and
then Eomer led them to where Loth�riel stood at her father�s side.
�� Prince
Imrahil and his sons you have met,� Eomer was saying, his face devoid of any
real emotion and his voice neutral, �but this is his daughter, Lady Loth�riel,
Princess of Dol Amroth. Also the lady who has accepted my suit. My Lady, might
I present to you two of my most loyal men. Lord Erkenbrand, Marshall of the
West-mark,� he indicated the redheaded man to his right, then the blonde on his
left. �And Lord Elfhelm, Marshall of the East-mark.�
�� Both
men bowed respectfully, and she nodded in return to their deference.
�� It
is an honor to make your acquaintance my lords,� she returned, voice a little
soft with her nervousness. Neither man showed any real outward reaction, and
she found herself terrified, wondering if they were finding her lacking in some
way. She was also very disconcerted with her betrothed�s piercing stare, his
dark eyes strangely intent and pinning her to the spot.
�� She
was therefore very grateful when Eomer turned away at last and motioned for a
woman who had been hovering near the edge of the hall to come nearer. She moved
forward, her long auburn hair mostly loose with only the top layers secured in
a small braided chignon at her crown, dressed in a plain but cleanly olive
green dress. She bowed her head low to the King.
�� Freca,
see them all put in rooms with warm baths fetched,� he ordered, taking firm
charge of the situation in a way one might expect him to bark out battle orders
to his �ored. �Also perhaps a light repast before dinner,� he continued,
�as we rode straight through the midday meal in our haste to return home.�
�� Freca
nodded to indicate she had heard, then turned to call out her own orders to the
army of servants who had seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Eowyn and
Faramir were led off in one direction, Amrothos and Erchirion in another.
Elphir, Riana and their two children were taken down a separate hall, and her
father another still. Until, finally, Freca came up to her at last and offered
her a warm smile.
�� I
am pleased to meet you at last my lady,� she murmured pleasantly. �I am Freca,
originally of Westmarch. Before Lady Eowyn left for Ithilien, she named me head
of the maids here in Meduseld.� Here her dark eyes fell away somewhat
uncertainly. �I hope that I please you enough to continue in this endeavor.�
�� Loth�riel
gave the woman a serene look, fighting to keep her utter exhaustion off her
face. �I trust the White Lady�s tastes as well as her discretion. I am sure she
would not have appointed you to such a position if she did not feel you were
capable of completing your tasks efficiently.�
�� Apparently
she didn�t do a good enough job of playing serene. Freca�s expression became
chiding.
�� Oh
listen to me, jabbering your ears off with you about to wilt to the floor from
fatigue. Come, follow me milady. You�ll have a hot bath straight away, and a
soft bed to rest in for a few hours at least.�
�� Her
control slipped just a little, her shoulders drooping. �Oh that sounds divine.�
�� Freca
smiled, taking her by the shoulder as Riana might have�in an older sister sort
of way�and led her from the great hall. They made their way down several halls,
all with doors of varying size and shape and decoration. Probably the largest
difference between the building she found herself in now and the ones she was
more familiar with were the fact that Meduseld seemed largely comprised of wood,
where-as buildings in Gondor were almost all made of carved stone. Even the
palace of Dol Amroth�while more airy and open than the city of Minas Tirith in
order to let in the cool sea breezes�was still mostly made of lavender blue
granite. Meduseld was sealed and closed in tightly, no doubt to ward away what
promised to be quite a fierce winter chill. The darkened halls were lit by
grand iron braziers and torch scones that lined the walls.
�� It
wasn�t long before she felt completely turned around and lost. Freca must have interpreted
her wide-eyed, nervous glances for she merely chuckled and gave her shoulder a
friendly squeeze.
�� Worry
not, my lady. In time you will grow to know Meduseld as well as you do your
former home. It can seem a bit intimidating at first, but do not despair.�
�� They
came to one of the larger doors, and Freca lifted the iron handle and pushed
inside. Loth�riel followed a little more slowly, taking in her surroundings.
�� Her
room at home had been very spacious and airy, few furnishings, lots of plush
velveteen rugs and silk wall hangings that would shift and sigh with the sea
breeze being let in from her enormous balcony window. This room was very much
different. There were no windows, and the space itself was much smaller, no
doubt in order to conserve heat. The walls were covered with more wall
tapestries rather than silk banners, these in slightly better repair than the
ones in the hall but not by much. And on the floor, no rugs of thread or
velvet, but rather stitched animal furs of tan and cream. The bed in the center
of the room was a lot larger than the one she had back home, covered as well in
furs as well as blankets of deep green and gold.
�� Near
the foot of the bed, a young girl no older than twelve or thirteen at most was
struggling to fill a large wooden tub with steaming buckets of water. She
hesitated at their entrance, and then quickly straightened up, smoothing down
her rumpled red and blue skirts. She had blonde hair secured haphazardly behind
her, big brown eyes and a winning smile that reminded Loth�riel of the woman
who had led her here.
�� This
is Freda, my lady,� Freca announced, smiling. �My daughter,� she then
confirmed. �Freda has been given the duty of filling in as your lady�s maid,
until you appoint someone of your own choosing to the task.� She turned to
quirk her daughter�s chin. �She is a bit young yet, my lady, but she is eager
to please and a fast learner. She will have your needs well memorized before
the end of the night, I guarantee it.�
�� Loth�riel
could tell they were both nervous that she might disapprove a maid so young. Quite
honestly, she really had no preference, just so long as she got to strip her
grimy dress off and sink down into that steaming tub at all haste. She gave
them both a reassuring smile.
�� I
am sure she will suit just fine, mistress Freca. Be at ease.� Freca bowed her
head in acknowledgement, then turned to her child.
�� Finish
filling her bath, Freda, then begin airing out the lady�s gowns. She must have
fresh clothes for supper tonight. Put the rest of her things away.�
�� Yes
mama,� the girl breathed, her voice airy and sweet. Freca gave one last smile
to Loth�riel, then turned and hurried out of the chamber, closing the door
solidly behind her.
�� Freda
immediately turned back to her task, so Loth�riel took this moment to divest
herself of her riding gloves, boots and cloak.
�� You
can set your things there beside the door, my lady,� came Freda�s pleasant
voice, only slightly strained a she hefted up a full bucket and added it to the
tub with a splash. �I will take them to be cleaned along with all of your other
soiled clothes while you sup tonight. I took the liberty of setting out your
bathing salts,� Freda suddenly announced, motioning to the small blue velvet
drawstring bag. She bit her lip a little. �I hope you do not mind my
presumption.�
�� Oh
no, it is fine,� Loth�riel quickly assured. �Saves me having to search for
them.� The girl giggled, then emptied the last of her buckets.
�� Do
you have a preference, my lady?� Loth�riel hesitated, then,
�� The
small blue bottle, I think.�
�� Freda
fished out the bottle she had described, then uncorked it and added a small
bit. Instantly the room began to smell of chamomile.
�� Apples!�
Freda exclaimed, utterly delighted. She gave a giggle, then seemed to remember
herself and recorked the bottle with a small gasp. She replaced it in its bag,
then hurried around the tub and approached her. Loth�riel was a little disconcerted
to discover that the child was very nearly as tall as she was. �Shall I help
you with your gown, my lady?�
�� Just
loosen the ties at my back please,� she bade. �I think I can manage the rest on
my own. I would not like to keep you from your other chores.�
�� Freda
nodded in agreement, then did as she was told, with nimble and efficient
fingers. She seemed remarkably well possessed and mature for her age, turning
at once to start hanging Loth�riel�s gowns and putting everything else away. If
Freda gave her no reason to decide otherwise, she just might decide to keep the
precocious blonde on as her maid permanently. She could find no fault with her
so far. Indeed, so far she was proving even more efficient at her tasks than
Dolwen�her former maid in Dol Amroth�had been. And Dolwen was nearing her
nineteenth year.
�� Loth�riel
forgot about everything else as soon as she sank down into the blessedly hot
water. �Valar be praised,� she hissed, causing Freda to giggle.
�� If
you wish me to help wash your hair or your back my lady, you have only to
call,� she assured, her voice slightly muffled, as she was currently half
buried into one of Loth�riel�s travel bags.
�� While
Freda continued to unpack, Loth�riel allowed herself to languish a bit in the
bath, letting her sore and tired muscles relax. Finally, after a moment, she
got started on the business of scrubbing the dirt and grime of travel from her
body. They didn�t have sea sponges like back home, but the slightly
rough-textured cloth served its purpose just fine.
�� She
was in the process of soaping up her tangled black hair when Freda�s exclamation
on the other side of the room caught her attention. She turned to see what was
the matter, and smiled.
�� Freda
stood, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, holding a brilliant silver gown. The swooping
neck, flaring hem and long sleeves were embroidered with pearls and chips of
sapphire. The cloth of the gown was made with ultra fine mithril thread, so
that it gleamed and shimmered even in the dull light of the room�s only brazier.
The cape that attached to the neckline, sweeping back for nearly four feet in
length, was decorated with a large white swan in flight, the eyes made of two
sapphires the size of her pinkie nail.
�� It
is the dress of a fairy princess,� the girl whispered. Loth�riel chuckled.
�� It
was my mother�s wedding gown,� she revealed softly. �I had hoped it might serve
the same purpose for me.�
�� Freda�s
movements were very careful�bordering on reverent�as she moved to hang up the
gown so that the few wrinkles could be properly aired away.
�� Dol
Amroth must be a very fine kingdom indeed,� the child murmured after a moment.
Loth�riel gave her a questioning look, and Freda shrugged. �It seems only in
dreams do people wear such wonders as clothing,� she announced softly, reaching
out to run a gentle finger down the embroidered neckline before she suddenly
remembered herself and jerked her hand away.
�� Loth�riel
bit her lip, glancing at the gown again. It was a bit much. Perhaps it
would be too much. The kingdom of Rohan was fresh from war, after all.
If not for her father�s aide, they likely would not have survived the winter.
Maybe such a blatant display of wealth would be seen as insulting? She winced.
It probably would. But she had looked forward to wearing her mother�s wedding
gown. It had taken her nearly two months to alter the gown to fit her.
�� In
order to take her mind and Freda�s off of the touchy subject, she sat
straighter in the tub. �I could use your assistance,� she called. The Rohirrim
girl turned immediately from the gown, then hurried over. Loth�riel allowed
Freda to help rinse the soap from her hair, even though she was quite capable
of doing it on her own. She endured the silence for a moment, eyes closed to
keep the soap out of them, then,
�� Your
mother mentioned that you were originally from the Westfold. What brought you
to Edoras?�
�� The
war,� was Freda�s immediate and easy answer. Loth�riel tensed uncomfortably,
but Freda continued oblivious. �My papa was killed in the First Battle of Isen.
Not long after, the Dunlendings burned and sacked our village. Mama sent me and
my brother Eothain to Edoras to raise the alarm and worn King Th�oden of what
was happening while she fled to Helm�s Deep. We rode Garulf, my papa�s horse,
all the way here, all by ourselves,� she announced cheerily. �Afterward, we
left with the rest of the city to Helm�s Deep, where mama had gone. Then we
were attacked by the Uruk-hai from Isengard. Me and mama were sent to the
caves, but Eothain had to fight. He was hurt pretty badly, but he survived. He�s
serving as one of the King�s Riders now,� she then announced proudly. �And
since our home was burned, Lady Eowyn offered to let mama and I stay on in
Meduseld as maids. I must confess, it is much better than milking cows and
chasing chickens all day,� she then revealed with a conspiratorial laugh.
�� Loth�riel
smiled with her, though inwardly she was cringing. Such horrors this poor
little one had seen, and so young! No wonder she seemed so old for her age.
�� She
sat up after a moment, and allowed Freda to dunk the last bucket of cooling
water over her head, to help remove the last of the soap from her hair. Then
she stood and let Freda wrap her up in a huge drying cloth. Loth�riel was
suddenly grateful for the furs, as they protected her now freezing toes from
the unforgiving stone floor while Freda took her comb and worked out the
tangles.
�� Your
hair is so long my lady,� she complimented cheerfully and she laughed.
�� Aye,
I have never cut it. It is my one vanity I think. Go ahead and leave it loose
for now, it will dry faster that way.�
�� After
her hair was combed somewhat dry and her body toweled off, she dressed in one
of her white shifts and then headed for the bed. Freda helped her pull back the
heavy linens and furs.
�� Get
you some rest, my lady,� Freda encouraged as Loth�riel crawled up into the
large four poster like a child and practically collapsed into the softness with
a loud groan. Freda giggled. �You have two or three hours or more before supper
is called. That should refresh you I think.�
�� Loth�riel
was asleep before the last fur had been settled over her exhausted body.
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Of Swans and Horses : Queen of the Riddermark