Smoke & Mirrors

Chapter 2

As Éomer proposed the bridal toast, he reflected that after the broaching of the fifth barrel was perhaps not the best moment to retire. It would have been wiser to get away earlier or later. As it was, his men were neither sober enough to rein in their tongues nor so drunk as to be unable to form a coherent sentence. He just prayed that the princess's command of their language was not yet up to understanding the many ribald suggestions called after them when he whisked her out the door leading to the private quarters behind the hall.

Even so, judging by the colour flaming in her cheeks, their intent must have been clear enough. Traditionally, it was held that the more outrageous the propositions of the wedding guests, the more fertile the marriage. And of course the Rohirrim hoped for many sons for their king.

"Please forgive my riders," he said. "I assure you they hold you in the highest esteem and will treat you with all honour."

She had already regained her usual composure. "I don't doubt it."

"Anyway, by the time they wake up tomorrow morning, they'll be too busy with their aching heads to remember anything."

A smile flitted across her face. "I can believe that readily. Our housekeeper in Dol Amroth always brews up a large cauldron of evil tasting herb tea after feast days."

Éomer laughed. "Wulfrith does the same. The smell alone is enough to make you crawl away as fast as possible!" He smiled in reminiscence at the memory of past revelries, but his smile slowly faded. So many of those he had feasted with had perished in the war: Théodred, Dúnhere, Grimbold... They had known they might die any day and lived accordingly.

He became aware that the princess regarded him uncertainly and wondered what his face had shown. "Never mind," he said.

An uncomfortable silence descended and he cast about for something to say to break it. In a way it would have been easier had she been openly nervous. Or better still, giggling and a bit tipsy. But she just stood there utterly self-contained and stone cold sober, waiting for him to make the next move.

He motioned at the hallway. "Has Wulfrith shown you round yet?"

"Only the kitchen and storerooms, not the private quarters," Princess Lothíriel answered.

"Well, they're probably less spacious than you're used to, but I hope you'll like them anyway."

She murmured a polite reply.

He opened the door to one of the rooms, only to realise that no fires had been lit and they couldn't see anything. "This is the solar where you can sit with your ladies and be undisturbed."

She peered in and nodded.

"There are always many nobles and their families visiting Edoras, I'm sure you'll make friends quickly," he added and closed the door again. "That way you won't be lonely when I'm away."

"I see. Will that be often?"

"I'm afraid so. I like to get a first hand picture of how things stand in my kingdom, so I will be travelling often."

"Would it be possible for me to come with you? I would like to see more of the country."

He regarded her dubiously, standing there in her elegant dress and with not a hair out of place, and thought of the rather basic accommodation they would have to put up with. Somehow he could not imagine her sleeping in a simple farmhouse or a tent out on the plains somewhere. "Perhaps to the Hornburg," he said. "In summer, it's an easy ride."

"That's settled then." Again he caught a hint of steel in her manner, gone as quickly as a fish jumping in a pool. "Thank you, my lord. I'm sure I will enjoy sitting in the solar very much," she added.