Disclaimer: Not Tolkien, not making money. This is purely for my own entertainment.
It started with Lothiriel. Eowyn's cousin and soon-to-be-sister-in-law was born with an independent personality, but a firm upbringing, indoctrination in proper court mannerisms, and a desire to please her father had successfully tempered this tendency.
Since she had been promised to marry Eomer King of Rohan, Lothiriel often sought out Eowyn's company. Although they were as opposite as Arien and Ithil, they became close. The fallout of this feminine alliance should have been foreseen by Lothiriel's family. It was not.
Lothiriel looked into the eyes of her mirror reflection. She distrusted the mirror-Lothiriel; the serene reflection staring back could not be hers. It was the evening of her official betrothal ceremony and she was terrified.
She was not worried because she had never seen her fiancé. She was worried because he had never seen her.
Gondorian noblewomen were supposed to be lovely, elegant, and petite. They were supposed to have straight brown hair, sweet figures, and easy smiles. They were also charming, flirtatious, and friendly. Lothiriel was tall, curvaceous, and somber. She had wild black hair, an intense gaze, and a smirk. She was quiet when she was not forthright. If she was not a princess she would have been considered plain.
As Meril wrestled her long, black hair, Lothoriel contemplated the conversation she had with Eowyn during their morning ride.
"My brother will be here by this afternoon. His messengers brought word early this morning."
"Tonight I will be betrothed," Lothiriel said quietly.
Eowyn laughed, "You sound despondent! Surely there is no need." She sobered when she saw the worry in her friend's naturally tranquil face. "Tell me. What is troubling you?"
"I wish…" Lothiriel paused, trying to communicate what was on her mind. "I wish I was beautiful." The statement surprised her. This wish had lingered in her unconscious since she was a young girl but, she had never admitted it, not even to herself.
Eowyn regarded her friend intently, looking her over as if she was appraising a colt for sale. "You will most likely ignore my assessment of your appearance, so I will simply tell you this: You are not an insipid, Gondorian belle whose beauty goes no deeper than a flawless complexion. Be yourself Thiri. My brother will love you for it."
Lothiriel watched as Meril fought to pin up her curly hair. It was a losing fight.
Be yourself Thiri.
"Meril, you can leave now. I will finish my hair," Lothiriel turned to face her frustrated lady's maid.
"Are you certain my lady?" The girl asked, eyeing her hair skeptically.
"I am. Please inform my father I will be with him directly."
Meril curtseyed, "Yes, my lady."
Lothiriel gazed at herself in the mirror once more.
Be yourself.
She reached up to her hair and undid the few pins Meril had managed to place. She tied a ribbon to keep it out of her face and let the rest hang down her back.
She smirked at her reflection. She would cause a scandal with her unbraided, unpinned, uncoiffed hair. It was time to meet her husband-to-be. She walked toward the hall which led into the grand hall. Before she was halfway there, her father detained her.
"Lothiriel! What have you done to your hair?" Although he whispered, Lothiriel could tell he was anxious.
"I am wearing it differently this evening," Lothiriel replied calmly.
"Differently! Go back to your room and put it up. I will not have my daughter looking like a peasant, especially not tonight!" Prince Imrahil said, sounding more frantic than before.
"I like my hair this way," Lothiriel looked over her father's shoulder and saw King Elessar walking toward them. "Besides, I do not have time." The dismay on her father's face made her feel slightly guilty, but Lothiriel ignored the feeling.
"Imrahil," the king acknowledged him. "Come, my lady. Someone is eager to meet you." King Elessar escorted them into the hall. Lothiriel clutched her flustered father's arm.
Lothiriel saw Eowyn taking happily with Faramir and another man. The other man was tall, had long blond hair, and a serious expression. His brown eyed gaze was intense. This was Eowyn's brother; the king of Rohan; Lothiriel's future husband.
King Elessar and Prince Imrahil led Lothiriel toward the trio. Introductions were made and greetings exchanged, but Lothiriel barely noticed. She was, however, able to manage a deep curtsey at the proper time.
"My lady," Eomer returned her bow. Eomer and Lothiriel stared at one another for an awkward moment.
"You indeed are beautiful," He said sincerely, smiling as he extended his hand.
For a moment, Lothiriel froze, and then she comprehended his words.
Lothiriel took hEomer's hand and beamed.
Ithil- maia (god) who carries the moon
Arien- maia who carries the sun
Thanks for reading. There will be more chapters soon.
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