Sacrifices

Loti was comfortably sitting in front of a large fire reading a book of poetry when a knock came to her chamber door. “Enter!”

Her father announced himself, just to make sure she was descent. Once he received word it was fine he walked in and made his way toward her. Even though she sat in front of a fire she was wrapped up in one thick fur pelt. The winters in Dol Amroth were not cold by other realms standards, but the air was chilled and the princess usually wore thick pelts and robes during this time of season.

“Lothiriel, you have been so quiet since we have returned from Edoras. What is troubling you my love?” He sat down beside her as she shut the book.

She looked at her father; there was deep sadness in her eyes. “There were so many of our men killed in battle, the grief is overwhelming. Children are fatherless, young brides without their husbands; old women denied long life with their mates.” Letting out a sigh she pulled the wrap tighter to her.

She was quiet for several minutes. He knew she had something on her mind and hoped that she would tell it. Whenever his daughter, and second oldest, was thinking she would get quiet, as if trying to put together all the rights and wrongs before she spoke. That trait made her a wonderful ambassador to foreign realms in the past, without her help peace would be questionable in Dol Amroth.

“I can not shut out their wails father, the women mourning their loved ones, wringing their hands in sorrow. I first heard it when our men returned with our fallen soldiers and the wounded. It grew louder at Edoras constantly troubling my mind. Now it will not leave! Every where I walk there is grief, and I feel that I should be doing something to help, but I do not know what to do,” she was frustrated at the feeling of helplessness.

Imrahil put his arm around her to offer some comfort. She continued her laments.

“Rufio fell in battle father. His body was laid without ceremony in a mass grave. He should have been buried in his ancestor’s mound, but no one was here when the deed was done. He was buried while we attended the funeral of King Théoden. I never got to say goodbye, Elphir never got to say goodbye. It just hurts knowing such a great warrior went to his grave unsung. There has to be something you could do to right it?”

“He might have been unceremoniously buried, but he was definitely loved. Rufio knew that Loti, he knew your heart before battle. Do not feel guilt, he loved you and Elphir. I was not there when he was hewn under, but I rode with him many nights and days. He knew you loved him, but sometimes men must risk much to protect those they love.”

At that she hugged her father and cried onto his shoulder. Imrahil held his daughter as she cried. He wondered how difficult it had been for his children to rule in his steed during those long months. They had to rule under such harsh times, it could not have been good for either of them. He felt guilty for leaving them alone in the first place, but they were adults.

“Does Elphir know of his friends passing?” He wondered how his oldest son would handle the news that his lifelong friend was dead.

“No.”

“Father, I loved Rufio and he returned my love.”

Imrahil hugged his daughter tightly. He had seen glimpses that had passed between his daughter and one of the captains. Young love he thought, and young love it indeed was. When Loti lost her heart, as she was bound to do often, she lost it hard and heartbreak took time to heal.

She wanted to tell her father everything, but did not have the courage at the moment. It would have caused a slight stirring among those in her house when they came before her father after the battles were over. Yet to tell him now that she had indeed taken vows to one considered below her class and in secret had performed the proper rites, would set the houses venomous tongues raging!

“Fate decided against our union, I too feel widowed and alone. I will not see his dark hair and fair form walking on the beaches again. Why?” She cried harder. No one would ever know her secret now.

Imrahil’s mind was conflicted; they had spoken of Rufio before, he was a childhood friend of both his daughter and Elphir. For many years they were inseparable, but Rufio was not titled by birth and when his daughter came to him he refused her request. Now he began to hate himself for being so short-sighted. He never should have come between their love. Rufio was and worthy man, a good and loyal soldier and now he was gone. He hoped her heart would heal.

That pain made it more difficult to tell her what he had come to speak of. Courage failed him too and instead of saying what he had to say he placed a small tome down on the floor beside her.

“I will leave you to your grief for now love. I will send Elphir to you soon and you two shall weep together. I am so sorry my daughter, forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what father?”

“For my short comings.” The look on his daughter’s face was one of confusion.

He tapped his finger on the tome on the floor, she looked at it. “Loti, please do me the favor of reading this book.”

What kind of a father was he? Here his only daughter had lost her love, suffered for her kingdom, was ill with grief and now he was asking her to read a book that would give her the history of her soon to be husband’s family.

“The House of Eorl the Young,” she said out loud as she traced the gilt lettering with her finger. Hiccups came as she spoke.

“Are you forming alliances with them? I *hiccup* shall do my best to have it finished soon. I think a diversion would do me well father.”

She opened the book; the first pages were family trees. Her mind was not into the history and lineages of the House of Eorl but she would do what she could for her father.

She stopped, and suddenly looked to her father’s retreating form. “Father, *hiccup* this is the House of Rohan’s history. You have good alliances with them already, why do you need me? There is nothing I can do that you have not already done to secure alliances with The King of the Mark.”

Lothiriel continued as she walked toward him and pressed the book into his hands, “The King calls you brother and kin *hiccup*. He knows you will come to him in time of need. He might never have trusting eyes, but he has trust in you and my brothers. You worry too much.” Her smile devastated his heart! He was a horrible father! But her hiccups brought a smile to his face, for a moment.

“Loti love, Rohan is a strong ally to Dol Amroth you should know the histories of all houses and peoples of Rohan as well as you do Gondor. It will serve you well one day.”

“Ada, how will it serve me well if you have no problems with Rohan?” She knew that something odd was going on and that it concerned her. She was not easily fooled, and she knew her father’s expressions well.

“You came in here not to comfort me, but to give me reading material, the history of Rohan, the kingdom you have already allied with. In the past you have turned to me as an advisor on foreign realms and as a liaison, now what would you have me do? Everything is already done.”

He closed his eyes courage again was failing him, like her brothers she had inherited a temper from his side of the family. Imrahil hated to see her angry, especially at him. His heart tore into when any of his children showed displeasure, and now since he was at fault it completely ripped apart.

“Lothiriel, the King and I have been talking.” He did not finish his thoughts Elphir came into the room and grabbed his sister. Crying he crashed both to the floor!

Between bitter sobs he managed to say, “He’s dead Loti, dead. This is a dream it can’t be real, not real.” He cried more and his sister tried to sooth him the best she could, but finally gave into her pain. The sight was too much for Imrahil to bear; he turned and left his children to their grief.

Death had caused his children to grieve; he himself would be the only person responsible for his grief to come. With heavy step he walked to his chamber, his heart was torn asunder; he had betrayed his only daughter’s trust to the point where it might never be healed.

In a few months, when the King of the Mark came to take his daughter away, he knew that his grief was going to be great. They had lost a dear friend to uncontrollable circumstances; he would first lose his only daughter to a new home far away, and second the trust of his children once the deed was done. That he would have to live with for many years to come; but his mind held firm, he was doing what was in both kingdoms best interest, but still he cried.