Hi guys,
Well this is the first time I'm really trying my hand at writing, so bear with me. I started reading lotr fanfic and got really into it as I found some great authors on this site. However, Éomer and Lothíriel are what caught my attention, so here I am. I would very much appreciate reviews so that I can improve, and what you guys really think.
Amanda
P.S. I know this is short but it is the prologue.
-Prologue-Sounds of joyous celebration filled the air. A sea of people, music, food, and a steady flow of ale all mingled together. The city of Minas Tirith was blooming with life. The Prince of Ithilien and the White Lady of Rohan were to wed, thus, reforging the alliance between the kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan. Rebuilding had begun after the War of the Ring, and a royal alliance would serve both lands well.
Scattered around the center, neat groups of tents were pitched as soldiers adorned in respective uniforms to their lands strolled in and out. Éomer (actually it's King Éomer now, he thought) had just finished talking with his men and had made sure they were settled in. He felt miserable and happy; it was all bittersweet. He was happy for his sister; she needed a man. And he liked Faramir. The Prince was truly worthy of his sister; Éomer didn't doubt that. But she would leave, and it wouldn't be the same without Éowyn. Who would talk to him? Make him laugh? Who would be there for him? Being a King was lonely, and even his close friends had started acting slightly different around him.
Éomer slowly made his way to the royal stables. He would go see Firefoot; if a horse didn't cheer up a man what else could? He was pleased to be welcomed by the familiar smell of horse.
"I refuse to wed him. I don't know him. I haven't even met him, Mellonwen."
The voice was laced with anger. It is still a lovely, melodious voice, Éomer thought.
"Calm yourself, it's merely a proposition; nothing is confirmed yet."
"Oh, but you know my brothers, they are in love with the man, and father too."
" He took thirty orc heads in a minute and all while sitting on his stallion; he is a legend sister," the other mimicked in a man's voice.
"That is disappointing; I though it was at least a hundred," Mellonwen said in an amused tone.
Thirty orc heads in a minute, Éomer thought he would be pleased to make this warrior's acquaintance. Maybe he would be present at Éowyn's wedding. He was surprised he hadn't heard of him, with all the orc beheading while sitting on horseback. Quite like himself actually, Éomer thought with a smug grin, but thirty orc heads were impressive, silly of the girl not to want to marry him. But after all Gondorians were strange. The girl…
He caught a flash of black hair tied with a silver ribbon as she and her companion left the stables. He would probably meet her at the wedding too, when he met the warrior of course. Éomer was looking forward to the wedding now. It was not that he hadn't before but the stuffy Gondorian propriety, polite conversation, and all the young girls with their matchmaking mothers made the Black Gate seem less horrendous.
Éomer heard an impatient nicker then, and he went to greet Firefoot. His horse wasn't overjoyed to be kept waiting, and an annoyed look was plastered on Firefoot's face. A good, hard ride was what they both needed so Éomer saddled his stallion, and rode out into the sunshine.