All rights belong to Tolkien, I am just having some playful musings.
The air was damp and heavy. It weighted down her clothes as she tried to run to the top of the sand dune. When she reached the top her labored breath was drawing in the familiar smell of the sea. The smell that had been with her all her life: when she was little and would play in her mother's gardens, or during her 15th summer when a terrible fever had her dazed and confined to her bed for weeks. The smell was also there on all those late, lonely nights when her father and brothers were marching towards the White City and then the Black Gates.
Most of the time Lothriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, wasn't even conscious of the comforting smell, but it was always there reaching out from the Bay of Belfalas, wrapping its salty fingers around her, soothing her. From her perch on the dune, she could see the white caps gently lulling toward the sand and then being drug back out to the sea, to the east. At this moment Lothriel wished that she could just float out to sea and forever be at peace, however she knew it could not be.
This would be her last few moments on the beach by her home. In just a few hours the sun would prepare to rise and her wedding procession would leave to take her to Rohan. In the back of her mind she always knew that she would one day marry a noble man of her father's choosing. However Prince Imharil was always very lax and doting to his youngest child and daughter. Which had led her to hope that she would be courted in the White City, where she would fall in love with a charming young lord who possessed a dazzling smile, keen wit, and a dark and mysterious countenance. However this was not to be her fate. In all fairness, her father did provide her with a very acceptable husband: the young king of the horselords. Her brothers had assured her that he was quite a good match. He was tall and a famed warrior and leader on the battlefield. He was also very popular among the ladies. So much so that one night when the princess complained of boredom, Amrothos made the comment, "Have no fear my sister, for after your wedding you will have no more boring nights for years to come." This was received by a gasp from Lothriel, Elphir nearly chocked on his fine elvish wine, and Erchirion smacked his younger brother on the back of the head with as much force as he could muster in his state of shock. So this was what awaited her in Rohan. She was to be married to some barbarian king. Lothriel had never understood how someone could hate something so passionately, yet here she was full of hate for a man she had never laid eyes on. With one last look over the coast, bathed in the pale light of the setting crescent moon, Lothriel turned her back on the sea and began to walk back to the castle.
§ § § § § § §
Lothriel looked over her barren room as Ingrid, her ladies maid, finished up the last ties of her riding habit. Everything, but the necessities had been loaded onto wagons 9 days ago to make the long trek around the mountain to Edoras. With one last tug of a silver cord and a brush off of imaginary dust Ingrid let out a sigh, "Child you look so much like your mother, yet there is something so unique about you. Some tell you it is your eyes that are silver like a gale or the harbor. Others say it is your hair that holds the color and mystery of midnight. But however striking these features may be, they are not what set you apart. You will do well in Rohan."
"Thank you, Ingrid for trying to cheer me up, but you are wasting your compliments on me," the lady replied with sadness latent in her voice. The princess moved to pull away from her attendant. That was when, with surprising speed for someone of her age, that Ingrid grabbed her face between her hands.
"Do not pity yourself, your highness. The night you were born we all new that you were destined for more than a princedom by the sea. Your mother strained long and hard through her 12 hour labor to bring you into this world, and at last you came at the hour that the dawn was breaking on a new year. You must know what that means to be born at such a time. You will change things. You will be a great queen and a great wife. Just remember to hope," the old maid said. Tears welled in Lothriel's eyes and she pulled the feeble woman into a hug. Oh how she wished that Ingrid could continue her service to her in Rohan. Yet it could not be. Ingrid had been her mother's lady, until her death. It was then that she became the same to Lothriel. She was much too old to be the servant to a maiden, yet Lothriel would have it no other way. She needed Ingrid and her maternal presence. Yet as a mother of many and a grandmother of many more, Ingrid could not journey to Rohan. Her place was with her family by the sea. As tradition Lothriel would pick a young girl of her future husband's people to serve her. So it would seem that even her most intimate companion would be a stranger.
Lothriel removed herself from Ingrid's grasp and said her farewell with a promise of letters and gifts of furs for her grandchildren as soon as she was settled in her new role. So it was with a heavy heart that Lothriel walked out to the courtyard where the party was assembling and away from her old friend. She found her father and brother's gathered together, preparing to mount their chargers.
"At last the guest of honor has arrived. Dear sister I thought for certain we would have to roll you out of bed," Amrothos quipped.
"No I am quite ready, thank you. It is so rare to see you up before dawn, and in such good humor might I add. Amrothos I feel you will be a respectable prince yet," she responded icily.
"Oh you wound me, my lady," he responded while pulling his only sister in for a hug. As much as her brothers tried to hide it. It was paining them deeply to lose their little Lothy, who had been their shadow on many adventures since the day she could walk.
"Leave your sister be. I will not have you to snarling at each other before lunch. Lothriel my darling daughter you look lovely, every bit the fair queen and bride you are to be," Prince Imharil finally said. "Now let us get you onto that fine mare of yours and begin our journey," he finished. At his command the royal groom led out the princess's horse. Now this was not any steed, but a Rohrim one. She as was a betrothal gift from Eomer, and she was exquisite. Her coat was the color of the sand on the beach, while her mane and tail were of pure gold. She was proud and strong. Lothriel had never owned such a gorgeous creature. She had instantly fell in love with her in spite of the nature of her presence. She was told that she had been trained by Eomer himself and that she would never fail or falter. Sunbeam was her name. It would appear that Sunbeam was to be her only familiar companion in Rohan after the departure of her family. This gave Lothriel some peace.
Quickly, aided by Erchirion, Lothriel mounted her horse and situated herself in the saddle. The men all quickly mounted without aid and the trumpeter signaled the departure. Quickly the party was out of the castle and soon out of its sight as well. Lothriel wondered how long until she could no longer smell the sea.
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