Chapter Seventeen- Royalty

Like clockwork, Olihre arrived in Xanthe’s chamber almost an hour after he had departed.  He still wore his fine dinner clothes, but Xanthe could see that they were slightly wrinkled.  “Have you been sleeping?” she teased him, already knowing the answer to her question.

Olihre tilted his head slightly to the side and raised his shoulders with his palms upturned.  “What else was I to do while waiting?  I am not exactly at leave to wander around the palace, although I did stop in the atrium.”

“Did you?” Xanthe was automatically suspicious.  Olihre was not the type who enjoyed wandering in gardens and soaking up natures influences.  He was never happy unless he was outdoors, but only because he loved his horses so.  “And what was there to see in the atrium?”

Olihre did not miss the inference in Xanthe’s voice and couldn’t stop the grin and slight blush upon his cheeks.  “Well, there were flowers, of course, and shrubs of many varieties, and…there was the loveliest woman.”

Xanthe nodded her head knowingly.  “I never knew you were interested in women, Oli!  You seem to prefer the company of your horses above all others.”

Olihre resisted the urge to swat his little sister and instead wandered to a chair beside the door.  “I have had plenty of experiences with women,” he mumbled, his voice rather hesitant, “but not with any like her.  She was remarkable…you should have seen her, Xan.  I would have sworn she was elvish if she had not assured me otherwise.”

“Elvish?” Xanthe repeated, trying to imagine her brother with such a creature.  She looked at him and had to admit that he was charming, in a rather unrefined way.  His dark blonde hair was unruly with its tousled curls, and he was rarely clean-shaven for more than one day a week.  His dark green eyes had to be his best feature.  They could draw you in and hold you until you entirely forgot your purpose.  They did not sparkle with mischief as Gaviwyr’s deep brown eyes did, but their depths held plenty of secrets.

Olihre watched as his sister surveyed him, and did his best to stand at attention, not smiling or giving her any indication that he was at all humored by her.  Xanthe noticed this mocking display and glared at him.  “Hmmm…” she said casually, “I suppose you may have a chance.”

Olihre didn’t even try to control himself this time as he swatted Xanthe playfully.  “You don’t approve then?  You can aim high, but I cannot?”

Xanthe backed away quickly and put the chair between them.  “Well, my aim isn’t elvish…” she began.

Olihre shook his head in disapproval and with one quick gesture picked up the heavy chair and set it down beside him.  He then lunged at Xanthe and caught her by the arm, picking her up and easily throwing her onto the huge bed.  She landed with an “ooofff!” and tried to roll over, but Olihre had already picked up several large pillows and was one by one bombarding her with them.  “Your aim is an oaf!” he said matter-of-factly, not letting up on his ceaseless campaign.  It wasn’t until he heard a knock on the door that he halted, pillow in midair.  Xanthe groaned from somewhere beneath the avalanche of pillows.

Gaviwyr raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated display of curiosity as he entered the room.  “I wondered if perhaps you were being attacked by Goblins!”  Gaviwyr took in Xanthe’s sprawled out form as she tried desperately to rid herself of the heavy pillows that were lying in disorder over her legs.  She then stood as gracefully as she could, smoothing her skirts and trying to arrange her hair.  Gaviwyr laughed, “I think I am better off if I don’t ask.”

Xanthe felt her face growing warm as she cleared her throat and tried to maintain some air of dignity.  “We were having a disagreement.”

Gaviwyr chuckled and turned to Olihre, “Just be glad you didn’t wrinkle that beautiful dress of hers, though her hair is now worse than my own.”

Xanthe glared at Gaviwyr, though she knew he had done nothing but tell her the truth.  Her elaborate upsweep was now a horrid mess.  “Is dinner starting…do I have time to fix this?” 

Gaviwyr shook his head, “Dinner is being served; we must hurry.” 

Xanthe groaned as she took the pins out of her hair.  “It took me so long to do this…” she muttered.  Finally, after the last pin was released, sending her hair into a long cascade of gold down her back, she ran her fingers through it, shook her head a bit, and then walked out of her room without looking at either of the two men who irked her so.

*          *          *

Xanthe had to slow down at the end of the hallway, allowing the two men to catch up to her.  “Which way?” she asked.

Gaviwyr smiled and swept past her, resisting the urge to touch her crimped and tousled hair.  “Follow me.”

Olihre and Xanthe followed quietly, both of them trying to control their racing hearts.  Olihre knew he would likely see the woman from the atrium at dinner, and Xanthe knew that she would have to see Eomer again.  As they approached the large doors leading into the banquet hall, Gaviwyr turned to face them. 

“Let me brief you on who is in attendance so that you do not feel behind.  Prince Imrahil and his daughter are in attendance tonight, as well as King Elessar, Queen Arwen, Legolas, Eowyn, and Faramir.  Eomer is already inside, awaiting our arrival.

Xanthe paled slightly at the mention of so many distinguished names.  “Are you sure we are meant to dine here?  We can take our meals in the kitchen…”

Gaviwyr only shook his head and laughed, pulling open the double doors and walking nonchalantly into the room.  All of the faces around the table looked up upon their entering.  “Your Highnesses, Lords and Ladies, may I present King Eomer’s trusted healer Xanthe, and her brother, Olihre.”

Xanthe tried not to groan as she heard the words ‘trusted healer,’ but managed to smile convincingly enough.  She nodded at Gaviwyr and took his arm as he led her to her seat at the table, beside Legolas.  She looked perplexed as she searched out the other empty spots at the table, wondering why she and her brother had been separated.  Gaviwyr promptly took his seat on Xanthe’s other side, while Olihre led himself hesitantly to the only other empty chair at the round table, between King Elessar and Prince Imrahil. 

When all were seated, King Elessar rose and raised his hand in the traditional welcome.  “It is good to have old friends together,” he began… 

Xanthe shifted uncomfortably.

 “…and new ones,” he continued. 

Xanthe watched as many eyes at the table shifted towards her.

The King continued, “We are honored to receive as guests Prince Imrahil and his daughter, Lothiriel from Dol Amroth.”  He then turned towards Faramir, and chuckled.  “We are also pleased to have Faramir back; he has been toiling away in Ithilien, impatiently awaiting the length of the traditional engagement.”

Many around the table laughed appreciatively.  Xanthe couldn’t help feeling that this introduction was being given entirely for her benefit as well as Olihre’s.  She assumed that all present knew each other, as only royalty would.  She tried to maintain eye contact with the King who was looking at her with amusement in his grey eyes, but found that she could not.  Instead, she leaned forward slightly in order to look at her brother who sat beside the king.  She was surprised to see that he wasn’t regarding Elessar at all, but rather, was staring sheepishly at Imrahil’s daughter, who in turned was looking at Eomer. 

Xanthe stiffened and tried not to look at the King of the Mark.  Instead she searched the table for a distraction, and found one.  A pair of brown eyes, not unlike Eomer’s, stared back at her.  Xanthe furrowed her brow and looked down at the table, which seemed to be the only safe place for her attentions.  When she chanced to look up again, she found those eyes still staring, no…glaring at her.  Now Eowyn is upset with me too?  Luckily, the servants appeared out of nowhere and began setting plates of food in front of the guests, providing a welcome relief.

As the guests commenced in eating, stories were tossed about, memories were relived, and all in attendance seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.  Xanthe smiled and nodded when comments were made in her direction; she even uttered a few complete sentences when she was pressed upon by others, but for the most part, she tried to focus on eating her food, without making eye contact with anyone at the table.  It was only when she heard her name being mentioned that she dared look towards the side of the table that housed the glaring brown eyes.  Faramir was laughing at a comment that Eomer had made regarding the extreme pace that had been set during the last two days of their journey. 

“I would be anxious to arrive as well if I were traveling with the two of you!”  Lothiriel teased, as she looked at Eomer with rapt attention.

“Gav and I aren’t all that bad,” Eomer started, but not before glancing furtively in Xanthe’s direction.  She had her head bowed, but Eomer could tell that she was listening.  He then turned to Gaviwyr who was looking at him strangely, with no clear expression on his face.  “Anyway,” he continued, “we are here now, and though the animals will likely get more rest than we will, we are glad of it.”

Lothiriel laughed lightly, and the noise was annoyingly pleasant to Xanthe’s ears.  “What a beautiful dress you wear,” she said to Xanthe, who was still regarding her plate with undivided attention.  When Xanthe did not look up, or even acknowledge the compliment, Lothiriel tried again.  “Tell me Xanthe, where did you acquire such a beautiful elvish dress?”

Xanthe looked up quickly, aware that she had somehow lost the conversation.  “I’m sorry,” she began smoothly, “I received this dress from my mother…as a congratulatory present.  I am not sure where she acquired it.”

Lothiriel smiled warmly, but Xanthe couldn’t help but feel that it was more patronizing than sincere.  “How sweet!  Congratulations for what?”

Xanthe refrained from rolling her eyes, but couldn’t quite hide the edge in her voice.  “For being accepted as Palace Healer in Edoras.”  Xanthe looked around, aware that all at the table were now involved in the conversation.

Legolas was the first to break the unacknowledged tension.  “It is most certainly elvish…not even my eyes can detect the delicate stitching.”

Xanthe smiled appreciatively at him and turned to Olihre, who was still staring at Lothiriel.  Apparently nobody found his behavior odd, as none at the table even glanced at him.  “Oli,” Xanthe began, giving her brother a moment to collect his wits.  “Geylof often brought Mum presents; do you suppose this is one of them?”

Olihre shrugged his shoulders and remarked, “I honestly couldn’t say, though it seems likely.  Where else would she get it?”

Xanthe just nodded, realizing that she was only making small talk in order to avoid any more questions.  She tried desperately to think how she could continue the conversation, and was becoming quite frustrated when Gaviwyr broke through the strain in her head. 

“Legolas,” he asked, “You don’t happen to know the Lorien elf, do you?”

Legolas smiled, “I have heard mention of him, though I have not met him, nor his lovely wife.”

Gaviwyr nodded and turned to Xanthe.  “How long has it been since you have seen him?” 

Xanthe was fully prepared to answer Gaviwyr’s question until she realized she wasn’t sure.  She counted the days by the events that had occurred on each one and realized that though it seemed like eternity since her family had left Minas Tirith, it was in reality, no more than a month.  “I suppose I haven’t seen him in almost a month,” she hesitated, “though it seems like so much longer.”

Gaviwyr looked pensive for a moment and then turned to Aragorn.  “Your Majesty, do you suppose we could have him located and brought here?  I am sure the reunion would be appreciated by both.”

Xanthe’s eyes widened in terror, she couldn’t believe that Gaviwyr had just asked the King to do her a favor.  “I appreciate it Gaviwyr, but I really don’t want to bother His Maj…”

“It is no trouble!” Aragorn interjected forcefully.  “He is still employed here as a Healer, though I admit I haven’t seen him around much.  It would be my pleasure to locate him for you.”

Xanthe tried to smile but settled on a penitent nod of the head when her lips refused to accommodate.  “Thank you, Your Highness.”

*          *          *

When dinner was over, it was decided that all of the guests would convene in the library to visit among each other.  Xanthe felt confident that she would be excused from this responsibility, since she really wasn’t involved in the affairs of anyone present.  She was mistaken.

“Shall we?” Gaviwyr asked, though he was already hitching his arm around Xanthe’s and leading her towards the library.

Xanthe knew she should have just graciously accepted, but she thought there might still be hope of dismissal.  “Do I really have to?”

Gaviwyr’s smile faded and formed a slight pout.  “I suppose not, but I…we would appreciate your presence.”

Xanthe saw the disappointment in Gaviwyr’s eyes and mentally kicked herself for her thoughtlessness.  “I apologize.  I just feel like I am an intruder among old friends.  I don’t really feel I belong here.”

Gaviwyr surprised Xanthe by smiling enormously.  “Good, then it seems I am not the only one here who feels slightly awkward.”

“You could not tell I felt awkward?” Xanthe began, and then suddenly, as his words finally registered, “YOU feel awkward here?”

Gaviwyr nodded, a serious look overtaking his charming face.  “I could tell that you felt a bit uncomfortable, but I suppose I thought it was due more to Eomer’s presence than anyone else’s.”

Xanthe couldn’t understand why, but she suddenly felt very embarrassed.  She didn’t want to talk about Eomer in front of Gaviwyr.  She had her brother for that, and Gaviwyr certainly wasn’t her brother.  She looked into his playful eyes and changed the subject.  “Why would you be uncomfortable here?  You are Eomer’s best friend.”

“I am, and always have been, but when he became King he assumed a different role than the one I have always known him in.  He has not changed at heart, he is still the same man I have always admired, but his responsibilities are different.”

“But why would that make you uncomfortable?” Xanthe asked.

“I know and love Eowyn, Faramir, and Legolas, but I hardly know King Elessar or Queen Arwen, not to mention the Prince or his daughter.  Not that I don’t want to know them, it is just that I feel I am intruding upon royal affairs.”

“That is exactly how I feel!  You put it into words much more precisely than I ever could.”   

Gaviwyr laughed and took Xanthe’s hand in his, “I propose then an evening of comfort, rather than awkwardness.”

Xanthe raised her eyebrows at Gaviwyr.  “What do you propose?”

“Let’s skip the royal hob knobbing and go cause trouble!”

Xanthe laughed, though she really wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘trouble.’  “I am afraid I have caused enough trouble as it is!”

“I will cover for you if we are caught,” Gaviwyr said, as he looked around quickly before pulling Xanthe out of the Banquet Hall and down a corridor, opposite of the library.

*          *          *

Olihre smiled as he watch Gaviwyr pull his sister away.  The last thing he heard was Xanthe’s incredulous voice demanding, “Caught at what?”