Disclaimer: Nothing in this story but OC's are mine. this goes for all
chapters.
A/N I don't know how they marry in ME, so I made up a totally non-religious ceremony. BTW I don't know if anyone has done a story like this before. If you have I'm sorry, I thought it was original.
~~~~ BLACK AS IS SIN ~~~~
I've always liked my Father.
I've always respected his every decision.
But this one I cannot. I cannot accept it. Never. NEVER! I will not. It's not because I hate the man. It's not even because I'm leaving home. It definitely isn't because it's just a political marriage. I always knew that would happen to me.
It's because he's selling me. SELLING ME! I marry that... that... that -man- ... and Father gets 600 loads of silver! He is a great commander, a good leader, and a loving Father, but I do not see how he could sell me. I knew he'd marry me away, improve his status, but like this? Why? It's been just us, just us, for so long, and he would sell me for 600 loads of silver. It is a huge amount of money, yes, but I would not take it. Not for him.
I shall just forever hope the man's love is worth that. For it shall not be refunded.
~~~~Normal POV~~~~
Lothiriel sat still as Lily brushed her hair. Lothiriel had always hated her hair. So dark. Black as sin, as Eowyn had once taunted her, after the Rohirric girl had discovered Lothiriel getting friendly with a stable boy. Lothiriel's slightly tanned face had flushed right up to the roots of that raven hair, and Eowyn had forever blackmailed her with that.
Now that black hair was being twisted, pulled and brushed into an elaborate style. Lothiriel could never understand why her maids styled it so elaborately. The colouring was so unfashionable in Ithilien it was always hidden beneath a veil. Now the veil was white.
Finally Lily finished, and placed a thin, almost see through veil on her mistress' head, securing it with a thin gold circlet.
"It does look lovely, madam." said the maid tentatively.
Lothiriel turned, oh so slowly, to set her doe brown eyes on Lily. She closed them, and drew in a deep breath. Lily sighed, hoping against hope she hadn't offended. It didn't work. The raven haired girl's eyes snapped open, and she said, deceivingly quietly,
"It does not, madam, for it is black. Black as sin, and I would appreciate no further mentions to it. Now, I should hope you had the foresight to know you'd infuriate me at least once, so I presume your bags are packed. Unpack them. And then pack them again. And then, I do believe I shall forgive you," said Lothiriel lightly, and began to put on her dress. Lily sighed with relief, and scurried away before the lady changed her mind. The bride's laughter reverberated after, though it wasn't malicious. She knew Lily wouldn't bother, and depending on how loathsome Eomer was, would pretend not to notice. Her laughter finally stopped, and as she slipped on silk stockings and shoes, she began to think.
Would he love her? Would he, really and truly? But then, she decided, it didn't matter, for she could never, would never, return his love. She thought of the wedding.
King Elessar and Queen Arwen would be there, with their tiny son. All the Fellowship but Boromir, her cousin, and Frodo and Sam. Eowyn and Faramir, but not Denethor nor Theoden. Father, obviously, but mother was long dead. As was Findulias. She would have been marrying Theodred... but for... He, Prince of the Mark, she had loved. She had known him always, as he had visited often, and they had been arranged since her birth. He had been ten years her senior, but now, at seventeen, it didn't seem to have ever been that much.
Eomer, just eight years her senior, she had seen, but never, not once, spoken too. He hadn't liked her when she was ten, and that was the only time she remembered seeing him. He had looked at her, with so much malice, as Theodred had picked her up and kissed her cheeks, before swinging her around, and then telling her he would teach her how to fence when she could lift his sword. She had tried. Tried all the time, and when she had visited Theoden to see what would happen about the arrangement, had asked could she see the sword the old man cradled, and had lifted it. Lifted it so high above her head, and asked no one in particular,
"Can I fence now?" Imrahil had asked Theoden if she could sit down somewhere, and he asked Eowyn to take her outside.
That was so long ago, and now it was her wedding day. Father would arrive soon, and take her down to be wed in the hall. Marriage in Ithilien was a short exchange of promises and rings, before feasts, dancing and entertainment. Finally Lothiriel was finished, and she looked at herself in the mirror.
Black curls fell artfully across her veiled face, and the dress was light, airy and beautiful, but it felt like lead. A knock at the door made her start suddenly. Imrahil, full of smiles and happiness, burst in.
"Lothiriel! Eomer awaits!" he chided her, and offered his arm. His daughter took it, matching his smile, and followed him downstairs, thinking of all the curses and oaths she would yell at him. One day. Now, she had a groom to despise.
She entered the hall via the great staircase, and the entire hall turned to look at her and her father. Arwen adjusted little Eldarion so that he could see the descending Princess. Lothiriel smiled at the tiny prince as he waved a chubby arm toward her. Eomer, standing before Aragorn, had not turned to look at her, and determinedly kept facing forward.
She smiled and acknowledged all she passed, and finally stood before Aragorn, who was there instead of Eomer's father. Imrahil stood next to the King of Gondor, and they turned to each other.
"I, Imrahil of Dol Amroth, give my consent to this marriage, and approve of my daughter's choice of groom," he announced. Lothiriel nearly laughed aloud. Her choice of groom? Ha!
"I, King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor, give my consent to this marriage, and approve of my good friend Eomer's choice of groom. If this is settled, then the bride and groom will exchange promises," he smiled at the two standing before him. Eomer, with apparent effort, turned to Lothiriel.
"I, Eomer Eadig, King of the Mark, promise to love, adore, and be faithful to Lothiriel of Dol Amroth. In return for her obedience, I will cause no bodily harm to her," he said, and rolled his eyes, so only Lothiriel could see. She bit her lip. Imrahil had gone over these promises a thousand times, and each time she found them more unfair.
"I, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, promise to give my heart and body to my husband, to be always faithful, to be obedient, never to shame him to the lowliest, never to raise my voice or hand to him, and to do as he alone tells me to do," she said. Eomer reached forward, and lifted her veil, and kissed her on the mouth. Then he stepped back, and she realised it was over.
This man she despised was now her husband. He offered his arm stiffly, and she took it only as she knew her father would be shamed if she did not. Aragorn and Imrahil smiled at each other, and followed the newly married couple into a great hall.
~~~~~
A/N I'm unsure whether to make Eomer an abusive or just unloving husband. Please tell me *as you review*.
A/N I don't know how they marry in ME, so I made up a totally non-religious ceremony. BTW I don't know if anyone has done a story like this before. If you have I'm sorry, I thought it was original.
~~~~ BLACK AS IS SIN ~~~~
I've always liked my Father.
I've always respected his every decision.
But this one I cannot. I cannot accept it. Never. NEVER! I will not. It's not because I hate the man. It's not even because I'm leaving home. It definitely isn't because it's just a political marriage. I always knew that would happen to me.
It's because he's selling me. SELLING ME! I marry that... that... that -man- ... and Father gets 600 loads of silver! He is a great commander, a good leader, and a loving Father, but I do not see how he could sell me. I knew he'd marry me away, improve his status, but like this? Why? It's been just us, just us, for so long, and he would sell me for 600 loads of silver. It is a huge amount of money, yes, but I would not take it. Not for him.
I shall just forever hope the man's love is worth that. For it shall not be refunded.
~~~~Normal POV~~~~
Lothiriel sat still as Lily brushed her hair. Lothiriel had always hated her hair. So dark. Black as sin, as Eowyn had once taunted her, after the Rohirric girl had discovered Lothiriel getting friendly with a stable boy. Lothiriel's slightly tanned face had flushed right up to the roots of that raven hair, and Eowyn had forever blackmailed her with that.
Now that black hair was being twisted, pulled and brushed into an elaborate style. Lothiriel could never understand why her maids styled it so elaborately. The colouring was so unfashionable in Ithilien it was always hidden beneath a veil. Now the veil was white.
Finally Lily finished, and placed a thin, almost see through veil on her mistress' head, securing it with a thin gold circlet.
"It does look lovely, madam." said the maid tentatively.
Lothiriel turned, oh so slowly, to set her doe brown eyes on Lily. She closed them, and drew in a deep breath. Lily sighed, hoping against hope she hadn't offended. It didn't work. The raven haired girl's eyes snapped open, and she said, deceivingly quietly,
"It does not, madam, for it is black. Black as sin, and I would appreciate no further mentions to it. Now, I should hope you had the foresight to know you'd infuriate me at least once, so I presume your bags are packed. Unpack them. And then pack them again. And then, I do believe I shall forgive you," said Lothiriel lightly, and began to put on her dress. Lily sighed with relief, and scurried away before the lady changed her mind. The bride's laughter reverberated after, though it wasn't malicious. She knew Lily wouldn't bother, and depending on how loathsome Eomer was, would pretend not to notice. Her laughter finally stopped, and as she slipped on silk stockings and shoes, she began to think.
Would he love her? Would he, really and truly? But then, she decided, it didn't matter, for she could never, would never, return his love. She thought of the wedding.
King Elessar and Queen Arwen would be there, with their tiny son. All the Fellowship but Boromir, her cousin, and Frodo and Sam. Eowyn and Faramir, but not Denethor nor Theoden. Father, obviously, but mother was long dead. As was Findulias. She would have been marrying Theodred... but for... He, Prince of the Mark, she had loved. She had known him always, as he had visited often, and they had been arranged since her birth. He had been ten years her senior, but now, at seventeen, it didn't seem to have ever been that much.
Eomer, just eight years her senior, she had seen, but never, not once, spoken too. He hadn't liked her when she was ten, and that was the only time she remembered seeing him. He had looked at her, with so much malice, as Theodred had picked her up and kissed her cheeks, before swinging her around, and then telling her he would teach her how to fence when she could lift his sword. She had tried. Tried all the time, and when she had visited Theoden to see what would happen about the arrangement, had asked could she see the sword the old man cradled, and had lifted it. Lifted it so high above her head, and asked no one in particular,
"Can I fence now?" Imrahil had asked Theoden if she could sit down somewhere, and he asked Eowyn to take her outside.
That was so long ago, and now it was her wedding day. Father would arrive soon, and take her down to be wed in the hall. Marriage in Ithilien was a short exchange of promises and rings, before feasts, dancing and entertainment. Finally Lothiriel was finished, and she looked at herself in the mirror.
Black curls fell artfully across her veiled face, and the dress was light, airy and beautiful, but it felt like lead. A knock at the door made her start suddenly. Imrahil, full of smiles and happiness, burst in.
"Lothiriel! Eomer awaits!" he chided her, and offered his arm. His daughter took it, matching his smile, and followed him downstairs, thinking of all the curses and oaths she would yell at him. One day. Now, she had a groom to despise.
She entered the hall via the great staircase, and the entire hall turned to look at her and her father. Arwen adjusted little Eldarion so that he could see the descending Princess. Lothiriel smiled at the tiny prince as he waved a chubby arm toward her. Eomer, standing before Aragorn, had not turned to look at her, and determinedly kept facing forward.
She smiled and acknowledged all she passed, and finally stood before Aragorn, who was there instead of Eomer's father. Imrahil stood next to the King of Gondor, and they turned to each other.
"I, Imrahil of Dol Amroth, give my consent to this marriage, and approve of my daughter's choice of groom," he announced. Lothiriel nearly laughed aloud. Her choice of groom? Ha!
"I, King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor, give my consent to this marriage, and approve of my good friend Eomer's choice of groom. If this is settled, then the bride and groom will exchange promises," he smiled at the two standing before him. Eomer, with apparent effort, turned to Lothiriel.
"I, Eomer Eadig, King of the Mark, promise to love, adore, and be faithful to Lothiriel of Dol Amroth. In return for her obedience, I will cause no bodily harm to her," he said, and rolled his eyes, so only Lothiriel could see. She bit her lip. Imrahil had gone over these promises a thousand times, and each time she found them more unfair.
"I, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, promise to give my heart and body to my husband, to be always faithful, to be obedient, never to shame him to the lowliest, never to raise my voice or hand to him, and to do as he alone tells me to do," she said. Eomer reached forward, and lifted her veil, and kissed her on the mouth. Then he stepped back, and she realised it was over.
This man she despised was now her husband. He offered his arm stiffly, and she took it only as she knew her father would be shamed if she did not. Aragorn and Imrahil smiled at each other, and followed the newly married couple into a great hall.
~~~~~
A/N I'm unsure whether to make Eomer an abusive or just unloving husband. Please tell me *as you review*.