DISCLAIMER: All the characters were created by J.R.R.Tolkien, I do not own them ….

NOTES: Why the hell is there no Eomer category????? Well …After seeing the brilliant last movie and realizing that this character ( and his sister´s love story) were totally cut short I felt the urge to write …..so here is my version of how the king of Rohan met his bride. I know it´s been done before and I loved a lot of those stories! So please don´t be too mad if this is not to all your liking…..

Also I admit that even though I´ve read the boo , I´m no Tolkien expert …if there are flaws in this story I apologize.

Can´t believe I´ll have to wait 11 months for the extended version ( sniffle)!!!!!

SEEING YOU

Eomer, King of Rohan stepped out of his golden hall onto the terrace that lay beyond the threshold of the wooden doors. Inside they were still celebrating. It had been a good day spent hunting and riding with allies and friends. He had enjoyed seeing his sister again. Aragorn, Faramir and Imrahil had spent the evening trading old war- stories over dinner, now there was laughter, drinking and dancing.

Eomer breathed deep, drawing the crisp air into his lungs. It took him a moment to realize that he was not alone on the terrace. At the other end, almost shrouded in darkness stood a slender, graceful figure, hair the colour of freshly minced copper flowing over the back of a dark blue dress.

Eomer remembered just where he had seen the mass of hair before, it seemed to be burning like wildfire in the darkness of the night.

Imrahil had brought not only his sons but his daughter too.

" Mylady…." He said, slowly walking over to her.

„ What are you doing here?"

Lothiriel did not look at him, but out over his dark city and the wild sea of grass that lay beyond. She had needed to come out here for some fresh air and silence.

„ Do you  really want me to state the painfully obvious, my lord?" She could have just answered his question and be done with it, but …….somehow she thought that it wasn´t what he had been asking.

Eomer could feel a smile coming to his lips. It was a peculiar thing …the two of them standing out there on the terrace of  Meduseld in the cool, crisp air,  staring out into the darkness of the night. The wind was tugging at her dress and hair, but she did not seem to mind.

" And what would that be, princess?"

Lothiriel turned her head sideways to look at him, her face calm and serene. For a moment she just studied his profile. Looking at him, Lothiriel found herself searching her heart…..

Eomer, king of Rohan…….horselord of the Riddermark.

He was well aware of her scrutinizing look; she could read it in his smile. Still he took his time to turn towards her, his eyes locking with hers.

"They say you need a wife, my lord!"

Lothiriel said finally, her voice steady and soft.

" And I a husband…."

Eomer arched a dark eyebrow at her, still smiling as though the whole conversation amused him immensely. She had heard of his reputation, heard the stories of his skill and valour. He was her father´s friend and ally. He was said to have a fiery temper, to be serious and sometimes even severe. There was nothing of that in his handsome features now as he looked straight at her, almost as though he was testing her.

" And?"

Lothiriel never flinched, not averting her eyes like a shy, well brought up young maid should have done. Her smile mirrored his own as it curved her lips upwards.

"And so my loving father has found it suiting his needs to have me accompany him here in order to parade me in front of you……hoping that your eyes will look upon me favourably."

" Is that true?" he laughed. It was a harsh, raw sound, but not unpleasant ….he did not laugh too often. It reminded her of something dark and warm….like secrets whispered on pillows.

Lothiriel turned away from him with a wry smile, resuming to look out into the night.

" You know it is so, my lord."

Eomer nodded.  There was a silence between them, an understanding. For a while they both just stood there, gazing up at the stars.

" Your eyes, my princess….." he almost whispered, only seeing her from the corner of his eyes.

" Your eyes have the colour of the night sky….."

Lothiriel bowed her head ever so slightly, indicating that she had heard his words.

"And my eyes ….."

Eomer turned towards her again, stepping closer to her to shield her from the wind.

" ….when my eyes fall upon you, I do like what I see….."

He took her hand, before he could even ponder the possibility of his move being to bold.

Her fingers were cold from the cool night air, but her skin was soft underneath his battle hardened fingers. Strong hands, used to wield a sword…..

Lothiriel looked up at him. The wind caught his long hair, playing with it like a living thing. His face was serious, questioning. Lothiriel cast her eyes downward, looking at their hands. His grip was warm and firm, his thumb moving back and forth over the back of her hand. It was a small, but intimate gesture filled with so many possibilities. He did not seem to be aware of what he was doing, his stare still fixed on her as though he was trying to discern something of outmost importance.

 He was no stranger to women, to physical love ….she had heard stories about that too. But something seemed to be lacking his experience. Judging from the stern, inquisitive look he was giving her, Lothiriel could tell that he was on unfamiliar ground. She doubted that any woman had ever been able to move his heart.

" Thank you, my lord."

Her fingers interweaved with his as she stepped even closer to him. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, but still far enough to not be unseemly.

" It all seems like an awful waste of time, doesn´t it?" Lothiriel breathed, her face turned upwards to look into his eyes.  Returning his questioning stare with her own look somewhere between uncertainty and appeal.

In the flickering lights of the torches she was beautiful enough to make Eomers heart ache.

He realized that she would never be considered to be as beautiful as the breathtaking queen Arwen. And that there would always be those who would say that his fair sister was more pleasurable to look upon. But right this moment he knew that in his eyes she was the fairest of them all. She was not a courtier playing games, pretending to be coy or modest. She was breathing honesty and candour.

There was a depth to her, something hidden underneath. She carried an ocean of secrets inside of her and he would gladly spend the rest of his days waiting for her to reveal them all to him.

Suddenly he knew exactly what she meant….

"Yes, my princess it does…."

He looked down at her, searching her eyes.

" Will you ride with me, my lady?" he asked, lifting her hand to his lips.

" Will you ride with me tomorrow?"

Lothiriel felt his lips brush her fingertips and smiled again.

" It would be my pleasure, my lord."