A/N: Yay for the first real chapter! To be completely honest I'm not entirely sure where the story is going to go but I've got a general idea. This chapter serves as a bit of an introduction to some of the key characters. I want to establish Lothiriel and Eomer's relationships with friends and family.
Thank you for the incredible reviews! I reply to reviews through PM's so you can always expect that from me. I was really surprised when there was so much positive response, ya'll are great!
The song here is Brand New Day by Joshua Radin. No particular reason, but I like the lighthearted feel of the song. It certainly fits with Lothiriel and Faramir's easy relationship. I'll get better at picking songs, and also I love suggestions!
Disclaimer: You should know by now what's mine and what isn't.
Chapter One
The healing house of Minas Tirith was still overflowing with the recovering some four weeks after the end of the war. Healers in white smocks flitted from ward to ward, carrying trays laden with salves and draughts. Rays of the late spring sun filtered through stained glass windows, set deep into the main hall where nurses sat in groups washing and rolling bandages. Among the organized chaos a slender woman helped support a middle aged man down the hall.
They shared the same dark hair and while her eyes were brilliant green his were a fierce iron grey. It was plain to see their relation, for they shared the same elegant and delicate features. "Father if you would just wait a few more days the Healer Melethon will release you."
Patience in the face of idleness had never been Imrahil's greatest asset. Grimacing, the prince leaned heavily on her, using the walking stick as support in his other hand. "Nonsense," he said crossly but squeezed his daughter's shoulder all the same. "If I stay in bed any longer I will miss the coronation."
Lothiriel lifted her eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer to whoever might listen. All she wanted was her father well and to see her family reunited. However, it would not hurt to see her stubborn father gain some measure of patience. For her sake and sanity at the very least. "If you keep prolonging your stay by sneaking out you will miss the coronation father. Do not make me send for Healer Brenelain. For I know she does not fear your temper and will have a sleeping draught put on you if you don't behave," her voice was light with a smile but she knew her father would catch the intent in her words. Indeed the good color drained from his face and a frown creased lines into his forehead, partially obscured by his dark hair. Reaching out she brushed it away from his eyes, trying not to laugh at his reaction.
"Surely my own daughter would not betray me so," he said. Chuckling, she steered him into his private room where two nurses awaited.
"You may try if you like, I fear you will find my will like iron." It was Imrahil's turn to laugh. However as he did a cough bubbled from his throat and he winced in pain. Lothiriel's smile slipped from her face and instead slid her shoulder higher under his arm and straightened her back higher. This action managed to pull her father further upright and she tightened her grip on him.
As they came in the door the nurses broke into a flurry of activity. Bandages were unrolled and a basin of hot water was carried in. "Medicine," he scoffed, warily eyeing the herbs that were being crushed and mixed with the water. Lothiriel sighed as she saw the scowl return, the same expression that had haunted his face as of late.
Casting a sympathetic glance at the trembling girls, Lothiriel helped her father back into bed. Quietly she let him undo the fastens on his shirt and she lifted her green eyes to level with his. Giving him the best imitation of her mother's glare, Lothiriel also provided her warning. "Be nice father, else I shall tell your Lordly friends how you quell before a simple healing salve."
Imrahil glared back but then the expression broke into a smile that did no reach his sad eyes. "You are just like your mother Lothiriel. Eru bless whomever you marry for they will get away with nothing."
Lothiriel's heart tightened at his words, yet she said nothing and kissed the top of her father's head before straightening up. Carefully she pulled away the right side of his shirt to reveal the bandages wrapped around his entire torso. Between the two nurses and her they managed to clean and rebandage the slowly healing spear wound in his side. For once Imrahil seemed to heed his daughter's threats and was a model patient, waiting until the last nurse departed before turning his shining eyes to his daughter. "That wasn't so hard was it?" She teased, her good-natured smile restored to her face.
"I am glad you are here Lothiriel," he said and raised a hand to take hers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked down at their hands. "Many more nurses would have suffered my wrath had you not arrived. I know you miss Belfalas."
Looking to the open window in the room, she thought of the sea at Dol Amroth. Attendants at the castle would be opening the halls and airing the palace out, preparing for the coming summer. Although Dol Amroth was mild for most of the year the winters still brought a hint of cold and with it the palace was boarded tight to prevent as much draft as possible. But soon the tapestries would be brought down and the velvet curtains replaced with light linen and lace.
Most of all the sea would be churning, carrying in warmer waters perfect for the hot months. Already Lothiriel could taste the salt in her mouth and looked forward to breaking her duties with afternoons in the long boats and swimming with her brothers. Closing her eyes she could almost see the white sands stretching over the small cove near the castle and the slate cliffs jutting out of the water, just high enough to leap from. "I miss home," she admitted and brought her eyes to her father.
Yet, more important than all the beaches and morning rides in the surf was the man sitting before her. Looking into his eyes she saw the shadows that had haunted them all, even in the face of years of peace the fear once experienced would never quite leave them. Lothiriel knew he mourned for much for her heart ached for the same reasons. So many soldiers would never return to their families, she had seen the funeral mounds on Pelennor. Then there was the loss of their kin. Although Lothiriel would not much affected by the death of her uncle, the loss of Boromir had been most upsetting.
"Tell me what you are thinking, it pains me to see you not smiling." Her father interrupted her thoughts and she looked up wide-eyed. Lothiriel did not try for a smile, and instead took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead.
"I am thinking that the sea will remain the same as always. There will be plenty of time to enjoy home later. For now I am happy to share this moment with you." There was a pause and they shared an affectionate look before she stared to help him sit up higher in his bed. "Perhaps when we are home you may take a day from your princely duties. We might ride in the surf and spend a day just the five of us?"
For the first time that afternoon a true smile took Imrahil's face. When Lothiriel handed him the reports from home and his book he covered her hand with his. "I will let you name the day." He looked down at the documents with an expression of distaste and then at his daughter. "I'm sure you have court gossip to attend to or one of your other brothers to bully, be gone and leave an old man in peace!"
Lothiriel chuckled and made for the door. "You are anything but old father." Then she took her leave, saying a small thanks to Eru that he was looking better everyday. Casting welcoming smiles to those who greeted her as she passed, Lothiriel wondered idly what exactly her brothers would be up to.
* * * * *
The prince of Dol Amroth was accorded lodging on the seventh level, a house set in shining white stone. A small courtyard led to the house and shut off from the street by an ornate iron gate. An arch rose above the gate and the keystone had an ornate swan carved into its face. As Lothiriel neared the gate she heard cheerful voices and from the doorway a pitch black dog came running.
"Hello Spots!" She said amicably, letting herself through the gate. With little regard for anything but the joy of seeing his mistress, the unusually named dog leapt onto its hind feet and pressed his paws against her stomach. Rolling her eyes she lovingly scratched the mutt behind his ears.
"Get away dog!" A voice hollered from the doorway. Looking up, Lothiriel smiled as she looked upon the handsome face of her middle brother. Erchirion strode across the small walkway and grabbed the dog by the scruff of his neck and forced him back down.
Fighting a laugh Lothiriel instead reached up and kissed her brother's cheek. "It is good you are better at maintaining your soldiers than you are your dog," she teased lightly, but failed to duck in time as he lightly cuffed the back of her head. Slinging an arm over her shoulder, Erchirion led her into the house where her eldest brother sat at the table polishing his armor.
Ever aware of his role as the future leader of Dol Amroth, Elphir was a humble yet capable man. At the moment he sat straight in his seat, his face turned to the intricate detail of his breastplate. Upon her entrance he looked up and inclined his head in a greeting but smiled when Lothiriel placed a kiss on top of his head. "Afternoon Iriel," he greeted her.
Out of the corner of her eye she noted Erchirion sliding a heavy suede jerkin over his shirt and breeches. "What are you up to Chirion?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Looking up, the middle prince didn't even bother hiding his wicked grin. "Practice courts. A few of the men are interested in crossing blades with our foreign friends. Plus cousin Faramir is finally able to get out and swing a blade. He wants to practice."
Moving across the room to the serving station, Lothiriel poured a goblet of cool wine and carried it to Elphir. He accepted it with gruff thanks, for he was busy trying to pull the grit embedded in the intricate etching. "I'm sure the crowd of Gondorian ladies who gather to watch have nothing to do with your decision to practice," she said wryly and shared a brief but amused glance with Elphir.
"I wouldn't know anything about that." Erchirion said absently, slinging his sword belt about his firm waist.
"He's far too busy bedding ladies' maids."
Lothiriel pulled a face and rounded on her beloved brother. "Don't you let me catch you stealing another one away to the stables. It's bad enough you lead them on." She scolded but knew her words would have little effect. As much as it sometimes displeased her, Lothiriel's brothers were now men and made their own decisions. No matter how ill thought out and idiotic they might be.
"Well, perhaps you should like to accompany us down and see that my attentions remain honorable." Lothiriel knew her time would be better served helping the house maids prepare for Amrothos' arrival but truth be told Lothiriel had little patience for house work. Sitting out on the practice courts was far more appealing.
"Alright," she said and looked down at the gauzy dress she wore. "Have you time for me to change?" She asked.
"Faramir is going to come here so we can walk together. We can wait." Quickly Lothiriel went up to her rooms and stripped out of the pale blue gown. Instead she pulled on a full skirt and high collared shirt. The shirt tucked neatly into her high waisted skirt revealing her narrow waist. She was pulling half of her hair back into a clumsy braid as she trotted down the stairs.
There in the doorway stood Faramir, handsome as ever. A genuine smile lit her face as she flew down the rest of the stair and threw her arms around him. "Easy cousin, I am healed but not fully recovered."
Pulling away, Lothiriel bit her lip guiltily. "I am sorry, it is just I am so happy to see you well." Luckily Faramir grinned widely at her before running a hand over his dark hair. Erchirion stood from where he was helping his brother.
"Sure cannot convince you to join?" Chirion asked, his voice indicating that he already knew the answer.
Casting his dark blue eyes from his work, Elphir shook his head. "I'm to meet with father and King Eomer of Rohan this evening before dinner. I will need to clean up before I go." Faramir absently took Lothiriel's arm and pulled it through his.
"I have much I wish to speak to you about dear cousin," he said leading her through the doorway. Lothiriel glanced up at him to see the brotherly affection in his eyes. It was in those moments that she regarded him as a fourth brother and not just her cousin. "Perhaps you will let me escort you to dinner this evening?"
"Of course you may. You will be much better company that Elphir or Chirion for one does not speak of anything but business and other does not speak for he is too busy stuffing his mouth." Faramir started to laugh as Chirion came to her other side and made to ruffle her hair.
Lothiriel managed to swat his hand away. "See if I rescue you from any unworthy suitors at the next court dinner."
"Oh that's alright," she said lightly as they steered out of the courtyard, leaving Spots to whine pitifully at the gate. The last noise they heard was Elphir shouting at the poor beast to shut up. "You need to spend your time at court functions looking for a wife."
Faramir briefly tensed under her hand. Lothiriel noticed but said nothing and instead kept her attention on her brother. "Stuffed dresses and empty heads make for interesting court ornaments but not suitable wives. You know that well Lothiriel." Erchirion scolded and she presented mock offense.
"I am a court lady dear brother. Are you saying I'm no more than an ornament?"
She knew he wouldn't rise to her bait, but it was fun to goad him nonetheless. "You are the highest ranking lady in court. Besides how could you possibly be empty headed when father kept you in lessons and you struggled to keep up with three wonderful brothers?" He asked, puffing his chest out jokingly.
Reaching out she slapped his back with a hard hand and he spluttered a cough. Faramir was laughing again. "I'm not so sure about the wonderful part, perhaps we should substitute it with absurd? What do you think Faramir?"
Grinning down at her the captain of Gondor pretended to stroke his chin in deep thought. "I was thinking arrogant myself."
Their playful banter continued on as they made their way towards the lane that opened to the practice courts kept on the seventh level. Only members of court or military leaders were allowed to use them, usually to display their talent rather than truly practice. As Lothiriel predicted the small platforms of seats overlooking the rings contained about a dozen Gondorian women. "I'd much rather take a horse down to the practice fields outside the gates." Whispered Faramir. "The remaining men of Rohan are camped down there you know. Apparently they are more adept on their feet than one might think."
"Good luck getting Chirion to go down there," said Lothiriel. She knew her brother was among the many men who did not use the practice courts for actual practice. "He can't resist showing off for those stuffed dresses."
Faramir bit the inside of his cheek and let her part ways as the two men opened the gate to one of the courts. "Lothiriel!" A voice cut across the court. On the other side Lothiriel saw a young woman waving in her direction. A smile broke out onto her face as she observed the brunette woman.
Aunriel was the daughter of her father's captain of the guard and her closest friend. Hurrying to the other side, she hugged her friend. "I did not know you were coming so early!" She proclaimed, thrilled to see her for the first time in weeks.
"My father surprised me by taking me with him. He hinted that you might be lonely for the company of other women instead of your ruffian brothers." Lothiriel laughed and threw her arms around Aunriel's neck once more.
"Well I am glad you are here. Court is a miserable affair without you." Together they came to the fence to watch Faramir and Erchirion. Aunriel was a full three inches taller than Lothiriel and had pale blue eyes that always bore a smile and welcome. As always here hands were covered in delicate gloves, protecting her dexterous fingers. The only child of the captain was a very gifted musician and saved the use of her hands for the harp. "You must sit with me after dinner and tell me everything about home. All I can glean from Amroth's letters is that he is busy with sending provisions here for the coronation ceremony and is miserably bored."
Aunriel smiled warmly just as Chirion thrust the first blow, which Faramir easily parried. "He is quite put out that he must do Elphir's duties at home."
"Ah," said Lothiriel an amused grin toying at her lips. "Surely he understands why? Until father is able to be out of bed he is taking meetings with the Western leaders. Chirion has no mind of leading."
"Amrothos is certainly the better option. Erchirion would rather dive for clams instead of writing out the orders for them." Aunriel said with a playful grin. Lifting her eyes skyward Lothiriel nodded.
"Eru bless him, all of them." Quietly she reveled in how lucky she was her beloved brothers came through alive. "Will you be at dinner this evening?" She asked, speaking of the court gathering.
With a long suffering sigh Aunriel nodded. "Your father has already asked me to play. I believe it to be a large party." Quietly Lothiriel nodded and turned her eyes back to the fight.
* * * * *
Royal duty be damned Eomer thought as he walked into the stables. After the morning he'd had there was no way he could concentrate on anything much less a letter to his Stewards back in Edoras. Grumbling under his breath about the sheer madness of the situation he took a sharp right down to the royal stalls. If a hard gallop with Firefoot couldn't fix his ills then he was sure nothing would.
There in the last and largest stall stood his horse. With just a single touch to his neck, Firefoot sensed his master's discontent and flattened his ears, throwing his head back. Rolling his eyes Eomer gave him a few reassuring pats, then digging into the pocket of his leather jerkin producing a large carrot. The stallion plucked it from his flat palm and munched happily as Eomer reached for the saddle pad. Firefoot nudged his shoulder before dropping his head to search out his master's pockets. It was not until after Eomer had properly saddled him did he give up the other carrot. "Only interested in three things," he muttered to his horse, letting him finish the carrot before sliding the bit into Firefoot's mouth. "Food, mares and a hard gallop."
Taking the leather strap of the bridle, Eomer led his faithful mount out into the main channel of the stables before swinging into the saddle. Perhaps he would ride down to camp and fetch Eothain. He needed counsel and his long time friend was quite adept at handling his worst moods. Urging Firefoot into a controlled trot he made his way from the sixth level towards the gates.
As he navigated the streets of Minas Tirith his thoughts strayed to the morning meeting he had taken with Faramir, captain of Gondor. For some weeks he'd been aware of the dark haired man's attachment to his sister. What he had been completely blind to was Eowyn's change of heart. When they had last seriously spoken all his sister wanted was the opportunity to fulfill a death wish and ride to battle, seeking further revenges for the death of their uncle.
For a brief moment Eomer's thoughts strayed to the man who was his second father. His grief for Theoden and Theodred ran deeper than he cared to admit, and he greatly missed their companionship. They would be able to provide counsel for this situation, even manage the delicate politics that would undoubtedly surround it.
Sighing he led Firefoot out of the gate and onto the field of Pelennor. Row after row of white tents were set, housing the heads of the Rohirrim. Luckily the tents were set far away enough that Firefoot could manage to work off a bit of energy. He kicked his horse to a gallop just as his scowl deepened.
Of course he gave his permission, how could he not? Eowyn would have held him with a blade until he gave approval. So now his sister was marrying a man she'd not known for three months. Groaning, Eomer remembered that Faramir had told him they were to marry as soon as possible, preferably before June, sometime after the coronation. Fast engagements were common, especially in these times. However that did not mean Eomer understood it.
It wasn't until he heard the loud call of his name did he realize two riders were waiting for him at the edge of the encampment. Eothain and Elfhelm were waving him to come to them. With an easy turn of his wrist, he directed Firefoot toward the pair. Both men were grinning widely at their king.
"Please do not tell me you've already heard."
"It was impossible not to, what with Eowyn seeking out my wife this morning." Elfhelm said with a wide grin threatening laughter. Now Eomer rolled his eyes at both his close friends, not even bothering to hide his distaste. "So you're to have a captain of Gondor as a brother-in-law."
Several curses sat on the tip of Eomer's tongue, a few managed to make their way from his lips, earning the hearty laugh of Eothain. "I've been trying not to think of it," he muttered, swatting away his friend's hand.
"Don't be too cross, it is a good match." Elfhelm said resuming a more serious face.
"All well and good until she leaves the Mark and I never see her." Eomer finally said revealing the true reason behind his unhappiness.
Leaning close, Eothain pretended to whisper into Elfhelm's ear but clearly wanted to be heard. "Our new King is lonely. Perhaps he should be on the lookout for another pretty woman to occupy his time and overprotective nature."
Growling, Eomer's fingers itched to hit his friend upside the back of his head. "Perhaps it is time our new King look for a wife." Rolling his eyes, Eomer turned Firefoot in a neat half circle, looking out over the open field.
"Shut it you two and let's take a long ride. Firefoot is anxious for a good run." As he shut his eyes trying to banish his thoughts he saw a pair of bright green eyes. Opening them, quite startled, he again saw nothing but the plains. "Take a wife indeed," he muttered darkly and kicked Firefoot into a gallop, determined to rid him of this perpetual bad mood.
The fact that Eothain and Elfhelm were laughing behind him did not help.
Poor Eomer losing his sister! From what I can tell on the timeline Eowyn and Faramir marry quite quickly after their meeting. And their wedding business will start the chain of events for the story. Next chapter includes our two characters meeting again!
Reviews are love-Brose