This was written for the ficvariations livejournal challenge.
"He's a good man, Lothy," her brother comforted her. Lothiriel turned on him, as angry as a wet cat.
"A good man? I don't care whether or not he's a good man – I don't want to marry him! Father knows that and he still arranged for me to marry someone I've never even met! Not only that, but that someone lives in another country! Not only that, but that someone happens to be the king of bloody Rohan!" Lothiriel shouted. Elphir winced. Lothiriel's voice got very high-pitched when she was angry.
"It won't be all that bad, Lothy," her second brother Amrothos said. "You've always liked horses, haven't you? So Rohan won't be so terrible, will it?"
"I would like to visit Rohan at some point in my life," Lothiriel said in a voice of forced calm. "I am sure that I would enjoy visiting such a fine country." She took a deep breath; Erchirion, the youngest brother but older than Lothiriel by a year, began to back towards the door. He knew what was coming next. "But I don't have the luxury of visiting!" Lothiriel screamed. "I have to spend the rest of my whole goddamn life there! I wish Sauron had never been defeated so I wouldn't have to go and be queen of a country I've never been to! I don't want to marry Eomer!"
Eomer, who was standing at the door to the library where the siblings were arguing, had to admit she was beautiful. Beautiful like a panther, he thought; sleek and lustrous and gorgeous, but not someone any sane man would want to approach. Not when she was raging like that, in any case. He almost felt sorry for her brothers. Not sorry enough to intervene and try to rationally discuss anything with her, though.
"Well, you don't have a choice, Lothy," Amrothos said, always the practical one. "Father has arranged your marriage and in two weeks you will be travelling to Rohan dressed in your finest white wedding gown and you will have to look and act happy. You might as well accept it."
"I will not wear a white wedding gown," Lothiriel stated. "I have a black mourning gown picked out already."
"Why a black mourning gown?" Elphir asked.
"To signify the loss of my entire life to someone I've never even spoken to before. I will not wear white, which is supposed to indicate freedom, when I have to go through with this!" Lothiriel's voice was getting high-pitched again. Eomer stepped into the room; the furious red in Lothiriel's cheeks drained away to leave her as pale as a ghost.
"I think we need to discuss matters, my lady," Eomer said, wondering at how she could look so corpse-like when confronted with him. Lothiriel looked at her brothers for support, but found none; they quickly slunk from the room and left her to debate the colour of her wedding dress with her future husband and king.