It was a long day, and a long night. Truth was, Lothíriel didn't even know when the day started and when it ended. They kept on pouring in, bleeding, whimpering, dying. Gondorians, Rohirrim, heroes. She had to be reminded by others, as she reminded them too, to drink some water and eat a morsel. All she saw was her father lying there, and each of her silly brothers. They were unscathed, she heard. Except for Amrothos but he had promised it was only a scratch.

She was exhausted. Perhaps some air would help, and she would finally find out if it were day or night. She embraced the cool air of the night: She could even see stars! In those last dark days, the stars had been veiled, lost in this terrible battle. Her gaze was turned upward as she lingered in the courtyard. She heard someone shuffling about, another patient but she knew there were enough healers to help out. She needed just a few more breath of this scintillating night. but the the footsteps stopped in front of her, her gaze dropped to meet the eyes of a a soldier with a big mop of blond hair. A rohír, she reminded herself.

"My sister. My sister… Where is she?" And with those words he toppled forward into her waiting arms. Only, she hadn't anticipated his dead weight and she fell back. This was the King's nephew, well, by all rights the new King of Rohan and he had fainted into her very arms. She called for help and very soon a few pairs of hands were pulling the King of Rohan away from her. She straightened up, still feeling his hard armor embedded into her skin and his breath against her neck. She shivered.

"Let's take him in. He was asking about Lady Eowyn," she offered to the head healer who was leading them to one of the rooms. It turned out that there was nothing wrong with Eomer King. He was merely exhausted and dehydrated. As she had been the one receiving him, Lothíriel waited for him to wake up. She sat by his bedside and watched as he muttered words in rohirric and fought against the shadows. Her rohirric lessons had certainly not included such a colorful vocabulary. It was near dawn when he suddenly sat up and looked around. The candle was almost spent and Lothíriel was fighting against sleep.

"My lady? Where am I?" She handed him a mug of water that he downed in a single gulp.

"You are in the House of Healing, in Minas Tirith, my Lord. You collapsed. I believe you were looking for your sister. Rest assured she is well."

She wanted to ask about her brothers and father but the poor man looked utterly spent. He must have ridden all the way from the Black Gate. His eyes were already closed and he was drifting back to sleep. There was something fascinating in noticing how boyish and innocent he looked in his sleep. Nothing to do with the man she had seen coming to Gondor's aid. Regretfully, she gave up her vigil when Lady Eowyn was told about her brother being here. The Lady had been doing very well ever since Lord Aragorn himself had come to heal her. Eomer King would be in good hands, his sister had started to learn the ways of the healer.

Lothíriel didn't think again about her horrendous experience at the House of Healing and those dark days spent waiting in Minas Tirith. But often she dreamt of dying men and gapping festering wounds. Soon after Eomer King's visit, she was allowed to ride back home to Dol Amroth. She didn't attend the festivity around the returning King as there was too much to do in Dol Amroth, and her elder brother and his wife had represented their family in Minas Tirith. There was work enough for her, and her other brothers in the rebuilding of the villages sacked by pirates and orcs.

Many months later, her father had instructed them to await the arrival of the rohirrim. Only now, she allowed herself to remember those dark times. Truth be told, having a tall warrior collapsing over her was perhaps the only amusing thing that had happened to her there. It was only amusing in retrospect because Eomer King hadn't been mortally wounded, just utterly exhausted.

The man she saw ridding to the castle wasn't the boy asleep with abandon, nor the blood covered warrior, it was a king who's golden hair shone in the morning light, like a crown, and whose tall proud stature made all bow in respect.

As he jumped out of his horses, she could see another face of his : a happy man coming to greet a good friend. She hadn't been able to attend her cousin Prince Faramir's wedding either, so it was the first time she was seeing him since she had bid farewell to his sleeping form.

Each of them were introduced again, as was the custom of Dol Amroth.

"Princess Lothíriel, I am happy to make your acquaintance once more." She was surprised at herself when a blush crept on her cheek.

"Eomer King." She bowed her head.

The king was welcomed to the Prince's castle. There were many festivities planned, along with a few meetings. It gave Princess Lothíriel enough time to notice more of King Eomer. She found out he was kind to children when her youngest nephew Glador climbed on his lap and blubbered all over his tunic; Wise when he spoke in the councils she attended. This afternoon, even King Aragorn was in attendance. They were discussing their future endeavors into Harad. These were hostile lands but there were nonetheless inhabited by humans. She noticed Eomer King's brave words, and having gone through the siege of Minas Tirith, she had no doubt he mean each of his words.

After the customary banquet, there was music and dancingl. Here and there, ladies and gentlemen were dancing. Lothíriel was of course asked many times for a dance. She obliged. She had heard the whispers : Now that the war was over, why wasn't Princess Lothíriel choosing one of those mighty captains and marrying him?

The custom of Dol Amroth was such that the Princes were to marry ladies selected by their parents and the council, Princesses, however, were free to marry whomever they chose. This is why nobody dared opposing Princes Finduilas' wish to marry Denethor the Steward.

It was time, even her father had encouraged her. She had noticed him reminding her of this incoming decision when Eomer King was standing close. Perhaps he had noticed that she couldn't help but keep on glancing at the young king. It was more out of curiosity than something else. However, she had to agree with all the women in both Gondor and Rohan that the woman who would marry him would be lucky indeed.

These thoughts encouraged her to find King Eomer hiding in one of the many balconies overlooking the ocean. He was lost in some deep thoughts. His eyes looked like a stormy sea, she was reluctant to intrude in his solitude but he also looked so forlorn.

"My Lord."

"My Lady," he replied, his eyes instantly focusing on her and his whole posture changing.

"Would you care for a dance?"

He agreed to her request. She was surprised by his ease. As they were catching their breath, in a corner of the ballroom, she couldn't help but share her thought with him :

"I had been expecting to find your dancing skills rusty after so many years of darkness."

"War is another kind of dance, Princess." His voice lowered, "and… It is precisely in dark times that we must dance and sing. Wouldn't you agree?" There was a spark in his dark blue eyes.

Those words were enough to change her curiosity into attraction.

"You are right Eomer King, it is in dark times that we must endure and find a way to hope."

She would have asked him more about the customs of Rohan and himself but she was called by Erchirion : her father wished to hear her sing. She climbed on the dais, where a servant had brought her harp. She thought about the words she had shared with Eomer King and chose a song well loved by her father, about the hope found in the dawn rising over a battlefield and in the everlasting lapping of the sea.

Usually, when she sang her gaze was turned upwards or beyond, to the sea. But tonight, her gaze found those eyes that did remind her of her beloved sea. She knew that once the song would be over, her life would be changed forever.

Years later, as she stood in front of Meduseld and beheld the plains around her, she thought again of those events. Eomer was coming home and it would be a joyful reunion. Elfwine, their beloved son, was standing next to her, he was also awaiting his father return with trepidation : he had finally chosen the next Queen of Rohan.

He had returned from a patrol a fews days ago, and had immediately decided to speak to his mother, who was the keeper of his heart. He had met Lady Demelza in Dunharrow. She was one of the shield maidens following Lady Eowyn's path. After the War of the Ring, many of had been wary of having female riders had to change their mind as Eomer King had finally agreed to his sister's request to reinstate the tradition of shield maidens.

Lothíriel smiled as she noticed her husband's silhouette riding in front of his eored. She had given up suggesting he didn't ride out during the winter. He was born to ride in the wild plains of Rohan and she was more than willing to take care of their kingdom.

That evening, Eomer was soon settled by the fire, eating the meat and bread prepared for him. Around him, his wife and children but also many people of Edoras were eating and laughing. It was much later that Marshal Elfwine took him to the side to tell him about his wonderful news. Demelza was still in Dunharrow finishing her training but he would send her word to come and meet formally the King and Queen.

These were happy times, indeed. As the King and Queen retired to their bedchamber, Eomer couldn't hide his amazement at his son's bravery when it came to the matter of the heart. He was usually so quiet and had few friends.

"He takes after his mother, min heorte,' explained Lothíriel

"Does he?" He feigned indignation but it didn't fit his state of undress.

"Or maybe he does take after you. After all, you were the one who approached me first." Lothíriel's smile informed him that she was teasing him.

Eomer gave her a puzzled look. And she couldn't help but laugh as she explained further,

"You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."

"It was the best I could do at that moment." And with a kiss he reminded her that she might have been the first to choose him but he didn't love her any less.