CHAPTER 1
Lothiriel had expected the cold, but not the piercing wind that assaulted her with its icy fingers, paralyzing her breath and stealing the strength from her limbs. Gasping against the gust that tried to rob her of air, she quickly turned her head sideways, burrowing her nose and mouth into the warmth of the soft woolen wrap that covered her head and neck. Stumbling sideways, her mount seemed to struggle for breath as well and Lothiriel worried for her beloved Dharasha's wellbeing. Reaching out her woolen covered hand, she patted the horse's neck gently, stroking away the fear she felt ripple through her body.
They weren't supposed to have left for another few days. They were supposed to meet the King at the pass so he could escort them into Rohan, but she had left early, thinking to travel slowly and take in the sights of the land that would soon become her new home. When her father had arranged the marriage, she had been frightened. She had met the King briefly at Aragorn's coronation, but they had hardly spoken. She knew nothing of him, but her first impression of him was that he was an intense and fierce man. She was immediately intimidated by him, and if it wasn't for his sister's stories of him, Lothiriel might have been completely terrified. Eowyn, however, upon finding out that Lothiriel was to become her sister-in-law, had invited her to stay with them. Eowyn instantly adored her soon-to-be sister, and knew that Eomer would too. Lothiriel was a ray of warm sunshine. Just the right woman to melt her brother's war-scarred heart. Eowyn could see the fear in Lothiriel's eyes, and so she told her stories of Eomer that she knew would help her see past the rough exterior, to the wonderful man that lay beneath. In turn, Eowyn also secretly sent letters to Eomer, telling him stories of his bride-to-be. Though he never responded to them, other than to say that he loved her and missed her, Eowyn knew that he would be equally curious of his betrothed.
Plans were made quickly, with Eowyn and Imrahil, Lothiriel's father, arranging everything. Eowyn was to escort Lothiriel to Rohan where they would meet her brother at the pass, but then Eowyn discovered she was with child, and Faramir forbid her from traveling such rugged and dangerous terrain. Eowyn had been furious, but knew that Faramir was right, and with tears streaming down her face, she reluctantly said goodbye to her new friend, and told her that she would see her soon, at her own wedding.
With her brothers on missions for Aragorn, and her father unable to leave the Council, she was left to fend for herself. She assured her father and brothers that she was fine, but inside, she was petrified and unsure. Fretting over it for weeks, she decided that she would feel better if she could get to know the landscape and see the beauty of Rohan. Maybe then, she would fall in love with it. At least that could be a beginning, but her decision now put them at risk. Leaving days before she was scheduled to, they were now stranded on the Rohan-side of the mountain and Eomer didn't even know she'd left.
Because of this, the King of Rohan wouldn't know anything was wrong for days, and they would be left to their own survival.
Foolish! She chided herself silently. Frowning at her stupidity, her thoughts turned immediately to her men and their safety. What had she been thinking?
Shaking her head, she shook off all thoughts of self-pity or doubt, and began to formulate a plan.
"Milady," Barator's deep voice, resounded through sound the blowing storm as he came to stand next to her, "We should keep moving."
Lothiriel turned to look at her captain. She could see that his dark eyebrows glistened with ice, frozen on the tips and quickly realized that the group was in danger. Looking around swiftly, she assessed their situation. The snow whipped around them, creating a haze of white. She could only see five feet in any direction and the landscape was now blanketed, making it impossible to locate landmarks. The early storm had caught them unprotected and unprepared, leaving their maps and supplies useless as they traveled toward her new home. This is why Eomer had insisted they escort them from the pass.
Lothiriel had to make a decision and fast. If they continued on, they might become hopelessly lost. If they stayed, they would have to build shelter quickly or they would freeze to death.
Looking at Barator, she called out over the wind, "Bring everyone in. Use whatever we have to clear away the snow and set up the tents. Quickly!"
Lothiriel whipped Rasha's head around and tapped her sides to make her move, calling out to others in her vicinity, "You two! Find as much wood as you can and pick up the horse dung. We can use it to start the fires!"
Not waiting for assistance, she climbed down from her horse and moved quickly to her saddle bags. Grabbing a large scarf, she moved to the front of Rasha and began to wrap her head and face in the soft, woolen material. Loosely, she created a bubble around the horse's nose so she could trap air within that would warm itself with the breath of the animal, she fitted the edges under the bridle so it would hold. Rasha nudged Lothiriel in gratitude, immediately trusting her rider's intent, and Lothiriel rubbed her forehead in acknowledgement.
"Sirion! I need your sword!" She called out over the howling blizzard, her soft voice nearly lost in the turmoil.
Sirion's brows gathered together in confusion before pulling his sword from its sheath and handing it to her, hilt first.
"Thank you." She smiled as she took hold of the hilt. Not even noticing his confusion, she turned and immediately began trudging through the snow, toward a small grove of pine trees nearly 20 feet away. Grabbing hold of a low branch, she raised the sword, and with a surprising strength, she swung at the branch, hacking off the limb near the trunk. Tossing it to the side, she set about cutting off another one, and another one, until she had made a pile of them. Grabbing the thick ends, she tried to bundle them together so she could drag them back to where the men were setting up a camp.
Upon seeing their Lady's intent, Sirion and three others rushed over to take the load from her, but she waved them off.
"There is too much that needs done. I need you to see to it. I have these." Lothiriel responded as sternly as her angelic face would allow for. There wasn't time for argument, so she gave them her best "Princess" voice and began dragging the branches toward them. When they didn't move, she sighed to herself and vowed that she would have to work on her ability to frighten others.
"Please," she said softly to them, "I doubt the blizzard cares if I am a princess or not. It would kill me just the same, so let us pretend for a moment that I am one of you and could die just as easily in this weather."
Hesitantly, the three men turned, Sirion nodding at them to go ahead, before turning back to Lothiriel.
"Milady, the branches are a good idea and the quicker we get them back, the faster we can clear the area. I'm already here so you might as well let me help you…princess or not." He reasoned, trying to be respectful but also not wanting to see her struggle so much.
Sirion had been raised with Lothiriel and her brothers. He had always admired her tenacity and fierce protectiveness, as well as her willingness to get her hands dirty. She was petite, though, and appeared delicate, which made those around her want to shield her from adversity. She, however, always jumped in bravely and without fear; a trait that he much admired. He surmised that being raised with 4 boys, and no mother had definitely given her some interesting personality traits. Though she appeared angelic, she had always been feisty and stubborn, not wanting to be left behind or left out of the activities her siblings were allowed. Her father, however, made sure that she learned the feminine arts as well, hiring a nanny that instilled all of the qualities a Gondorian princess ought to have, though he smirked at her stubborn resistance to some of those and remembered many arguments between her father and her over subjects such as; riding side saddle, or embroidery.
Lothiriel realized the wisdom of his words, and reluctantly allowed him to grab ahold of the branches that were falling out of her bundle.
"Thank you, Sirion." She allowed, nodding at him in recognition of his logic and grateful for his assistance, before again turning toward their encampment.
Using the branches, Lothiriel and several other men, began clearing away the snow as the others erected the tent poles as quickly as they could, unfolding the canvas and furs to create a city of connected tents. The tents were designed to be separate, but with the cold, it was smarter to connect them all into one structure so the fires and warmth of the bodies would help them survive the storm.
Once the largest tent was constructed, Lothiriel went about gathering all of the horses and moved them inside. Taking off saddles and bits, she had Sirion pile them in the corners, while she grabbed the blankets from them.
Speaking soothing words, Lothiriel stroked each one until they were calm enough that she could command them to lay down on the ground and then covered them with their own blankets. Once the horses were settled, she called for Taronil, Sirion's squire, and asked him to stay with the horses and keep them calm. She pointed toward a sack with grain in it and told him that he could give them food if it would help.
Taronil nodded, and before Lothiriel could even see his acknowledgement, she ducked back out of the tent and into the awaiting storm.
Hearing his name called, he nodded one last time at Taronil, before quitting the tent as well.
Eomer stood under the protective log awning of Meduseld's enormous longhouse, watching the dark clouds form over the mountains. He knew that the full-bodied tufts of slate-grey clouds meant snow and the mountains were treacherous enough. His mind went to the party from Dol Amroth and worry began to claw at his heart. Dol Amroth was a coastal city and though the weather was unpredictable, it never saw the kind of icy cold that Rohan knew well. The storm that was now forming over the mountains was earlier than any he'd ever seen and therefore greatly unexpected. He doubted that the valley would see any snow, but the mountain itself would be dangerous to travel.
The original plan was to meet them at the top of the pass and escort them into Rohan, but the way the cloud sat, told him that even the western side of the pass was being pummeled with the early blizzard, and they would be in the middle of it. They were set to meet them in 3 days, which meant that the princess would have already left Dol Amroth and would be at the base of the mountain now. They would be heading straight up into a huge blizzard and he doubted they were prepared for such a trip.
Immediately, Eomer made his decision. Turning, he shouted for Gamling, and strode inside the keep.
"My lord?" Gamling stepped out, answering his lord's beckoning.
"Make ready the guard. We go to meet the princess now." Eomer commanded, while motioning for Haleth to come forward.
"My lord?" Gamling questioned, looking confused.
Eomer turned his head to look at Gamling before answering, "An early storm has hit the mountains. The princess will be caught in the storm and they won't know what to do. They don't get snow in the south." Trying to explain to Gamling, who nodded in understanding.
Gamling quickly bowed, before turning to leave.
Haleth stood patiently, waiting for Eomer to speak to him. Haleth idolized the young king, and was honored when he was asked to become a squire in his house. Haleth had fought bravely at the Battle of Helm's Deep and Aragorn had suggested that he be trained as a Rider. Something that Eomer heartily agreed with. In turn, Eomer had gained an incredibly loyal squire who would do anything to earn his approval.
Eomer smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair playfully.
"I need you to ready my things. We ride to meet the princess early." Eomer stated, his hand resting easily on his shoulder.
"Oh…and your things. You'll be coming with." Eomer smiled at Haleth's excited expression. Haleth was more excited about meeting the princess than anyone, and had heard of her legendary beauty and grace, spreading the tales
Haleth was honored and bowed formally, causing Eomer to smirk. Eomer nodded toward the hallway that led to his rooms and Haleth bounded off.
It took only 30 minutes to get everyone ready to ride and then they were off, quickly making their way toward the mountain pass and the oncoming blizzard.
