The original story was written by Professor Tolkien , I´m not making money with this story and write only for my and my reader´s amousement. All characters belong to him.

I try to take a new look at the relationship between Lothiriel of Dol Amroth and Eomer. I don´t believe in the slightest that everything in middle earth is all happy sappy, with unicorns and flowers. After all, feminism wasn´t invented in the middle ages...

December 2nd, 3018, 3rd Age

City of Dol Amroth

The Palace

Slowly but steadily, Lothiriel, Princess of Dol Amroth and at the moment highest ranking lady of Gondor, slipped from her dreams into reality. She had dreamed of her mother, how she loved to read to her after the evening meal. Dreams of her mother were her favourite. But the young woman started to wake, to feel the silken sheets under her fingers and tangled around her legs, smell the salty breeze that welcomed her through the opened balcony door and hear the everlasting cries of the sea gulls.

Opening her green eyes, she took a deep breath to prepare her for the new day and its trials. She sat up, stood from the bed and walked a few paces, until she stood on her little balcony. She took a deep breath to take in the familiar salty air, which, although it was already December, was enjoyably warm. Lothiriel let her gaze wander.

Directly beneath her balcony, there was a small rose garden with flowers her mother had planted. In the right corner stood a huge willow tree, its branches even reaching the bottom of Lothiriel´s balcony. Underneath the willow, Lothiriel´s mother had her last resting place. On the opposite side of the garden was a wooden fence, and directly behind it the cliffs. A hidden staircase was the only way down to that part of the beach, a secluded area for the Prince of Dol Amroth and his family to enjoy.

On the left side of Lothiriel´s chamber, beyond the palace, the town of Dol Amroth lay busy in the morning sun, already shining brightly on another perfect day. On the very end on could see the famous harbour with all the ships coming in and leaving in constant trafic. To the right, a spit of land reached out into the ocean and formed the bay, and on its very end stood a lighthouse.

Lothiriel´s sigh was carried away with the wind. She lived in a dreamland. She was a princess in a magical place where everyday was just as bright as the last one, where her every wish was fulfilled by servants and where she had to long for nothing to be happy. Every girl in the country, no, in the world dreamed to one day wake up and live her life.

Lothiriel hated it.

She hated that every day looked the same, always sunny and bright, with just the gentlest of breezes to cool the skin from the sun. She hated to have to wake up to the same unchanged sceenery every day, to change from her long, flowing, white nightgown into a blue dress, the colour of Dol Amroth. Over her heart, she always fixed a swan brooche her father had given her at her first birthday. She hated to have to go down to breakfast, to sit in the company of her family;

Her father, who always brooded about politics, her older brothers Amrothos and Erchirion, who treated her like she was not worthy of their thoughts. Erchirion´s wife Galadwen, who looked down on her like she was a stupid brat. The servants, who followed her commands, but treated her like she was a ghost, never talking to her and never, ever reacting to her words. The fact that her father and two brothers still treated her like a seven year old who had to be looked after at every moment of the day bothered her to no end. But then again, they never talked to her either, never bothered to ask about her feelings or thoughts.

She hated that after breaking her fast, she had to sit down with a governess and work on her embroidery, her sewing or to read the sam boring poetry. The book she loathed the most was „The maiden´s way to honour and decorum: Guidelines for gondorian girls into matrimony."

When it was time for the noon meal, she went down with her ladies – yes, she had ladies in waiting, who were very eager to be her friends, but whom she would never consider to be friends with – and sat again in silence in her family´s presence. After the meal, she would tell the servants what to prepare for the evening meal and then went on to sit in the garden with her ladies and listen to their gossip, or at least pretend to do so. Every once in a while, they would go down to the beach, but never without guards and a proper chaperone. In this case, the lady Ivriniel, Lothiriel´s aunt, was always eager to have a watchful eye over her niece.

Once it was time to bathe for the evening meal, she was pampered by at least three servants at once who´s only task it was to make her look like the meak princess she ought to be. The evening meal was a special kind of torture, because usually at least her father´s advisors, sometimes also their wifes and in rare cases their whole families took part in the meal, making the tortourous procedure take more time than necessary.

After dinner, Imrahil would take a turn with his daughter about the rose garden and visit his wife´s grave, the only time of the day Lothiriel had any kind of contact with him.

Once in her chamber, Lothiriel had an hour or so for herself. She would usually sit on the balcony and write in her diary, the only activity of the day she ought to do that she enjoyed. Finally, two maids would attend her and make her ready for bed. That meant she had to stay still in the middle of her round room on the top floor of the highest tower, while the two girls stripped her of all clothes and hoist a large, white, nightgown over her head which could very well have served as a tablecloth.

When Lothiriel lay awake in bed, she imagined the most adventurous stories. She would ride to a faraway land and marry an entirely poor man, have at least a dozen children with him, but be loved and happy until their end. Or she would go sailing with Elphir, her oldest brother, and togethter they would travel to the most beautiful places and stay there forever. Lothiriel had to sigh again. Elphir was her favourite brother by far. He was captain of the army and her father´s heir, so he was often away, either on diplomatic missions or on a land campaign. In these dark days, it was the latter more often than the former. But when he was at home, he always brought her a gift, if only a small one, and he always made time for his little sister.

Looking down at her mother´s grave, Lothiriel couldn´t help but shed a small tear. After her dear mother´s death, everybody in the family had coped differently.

Her father had retreated into his study, only coming out for meals. More and more, he would ride to Minas Tirith to make plans with her uncle Denethor, the Stuard of Gondor, and he would never speak or play with her anymore, only when it came to her education. He was determined to turn Lothiriel into a maid of highest honour and virtue, and thus desireable for every Lord in the land and beyond. In this matter, he had the highest approval of his sister and daughter-in-law.

Erchirion, her second oldest brother had started to tease and to be mean to her without end, and often playing tricks on her. Whenever they crossed paths, a comment about how childish she behaved was never far behind. Lucky for her, he was the captain of her father´s fleat and often away as well.

Then there was Amrothos, only eleven at the time, only four years older than herself. Without a mother to turn to or a father to guide him, he had clung to Lothiriel as his mother figure. When she coulnd´t cope anymore herself, he had turned to Erchirion and imitated his teasing. Eventually, he had started to train with weapons and enlisted in the army.

And Lothiriel herself … well, she had coped somehow, she didn´t remember much. Only that she had always thought „What would mother want me to do?" Her answer was always the same: Her mother had wanted her to be happy. Little did she know, that her daughter was everything but.

A servants voice brought Lothiriel back to the present.

„Mylady, your Lord father wishes to speak to you in his study. He has requested you dress and come at once."

With a last longing look out onto the ocean, Lothiriel turned and let the procedure begin. Whenever her father requested something of her, she better follow his command, or days of neglection from his part, and teasing from her brother´s parts would follow.

This day, she was being clad into a gown of midnight blue, with pearls all over the satin material. It wasn´t form fitting, she rather felt like waring a sack, but thus were the standards for unmarried girls who still lived in their father´s care without any suitors.

When the maids finally had pinned up her hair in the most intrecate of manners and smoothed everything out, she went to her father´s study, of course acompanied by the two guards who followed her every step. She knocked twice, then waited until she heard „Enter!" and stepped into the room.

To the woman´s surprise, her father and three brothers were gathered behind the huge wooden desk in the center of the study. At her entry, her father looked up.

„Ah, Lothiriel, how wonderful that you could join us so early in the day. I have something important to discuss with you so please listen carefully and remember every detail!

As you know, we live in dangerous times. At my last visit in Minas Tirith, your uncle and I have agreed that Gondor´s armies can not stand still while the shaddow in the east grows ever more powerful. A messanger arrived yesterday with Lord Denethor´s plea for more troups. The essence af all this is the following: Your brothers and I are going to war. Elphir and I on land, Erchirion and Amrothos at sea. Erchirion, as captain of the fleet, will be here once in a while, but until the war is over, you will have to take care of yourself. I have instuctions for my advisors to rule the country, you don´t have to bother yourself with that. Galadwen will be the authority in all matters damestic. you will have to follow her commands if she states them. Do you think you can manage that, daughter?"

Speechless at first, Lothiriel quickl recoverd when she saw her brothers and father staring back at her sceptically.

„It will not be a simple task father. But I am not surprised you would do your duty and I would expect no less from my brohters. I´m sure my sister-in-law will do a remarkable job, and there is always aunt Ivriniel to help. In every case, I will assist Galadwen whenever I can."

She smiled a meak little smile to end her little speech.

„Well, that much is true. You better consult your aunt in all important matters, Lothiriel.

But now I must bid you goodbye. We are to leave tomorrow and have much to prepare. We will see ech other again once all of this is over. Have a good day, daughter."

There was no word of approval, no emotional reaction.

After being dismissed, Lothiriel turned and left the study at once. She practically ran to her room, or at least went as fast as was seemly for a lady at 21 years old.

In her chambers, she flung herself onto her bed and laughed. She laughed until her sides burnt from lack of air and propper breathing, but she wouldn´t stop. Finally, after 15 years of the same daily routine, she was going to be free.