A/N: I know this was supposed to be just an one-shot and nothing more, but due to demands and my sudden burst of creativeness, here comes the second meeting of the horselord and the mermaid.

I won't promise continuation, though. I'm not sure I really have a proper story or plot to continue this any more than I've already done... nor do I really have the time or energy to start working on a full-length story at the moment.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy!


Though she was now long gone, Éomer King of Rohan was still thinking of the mermaid Lothíriel he had encountered on the beach when he entered his chambers.

Well, it was a small wonder that he did. For one, she was probably the first woman (with the exception of his sister) he had actually enjoyed interacting with ever since they had dropped that damned crown on his head. Not that he had something against women in general. Rather, he liked the opposite sex as much as any hot-blooded male. It was just the context of his usual interactions with women these days that had him at his wits' end.

As soon as Théoden King had been laid to grave and the funeral guests had gone their ways, Éomer's advisers had started it: the unending talk about marriage, the accessible women in the kingdoms of West, and which lady would best suit him as a wife.

On a purely theoretical level, he understood it. Should he die now, the throne of the Mark would be left without an heir – unless one of Éowyn's future children could assume the position. But that was years and years from now. And there had not been royal children in the land ever since Théodred had been born... the marriage of the new King and him taking up the urgent task of producing offspring was a reasonable concern.

But how was he supposed to just marry? His life had consisted of so much struggle and hardships, and he definitely did not want them to intrude this part of his life. He didn't want just any woman from some distant land and burden his personal life with what could turn out to be a complete catastrophe. And while the women of Rohan were agreeable in every way, he had yet to encounter one he'd want to spend his life with. Was it so wrong of him to wish for one small thing in his life that he could be happy to call his own?

On the other hand, he was a king now. And like his advisers were happy to remind him, his station demanded things of him no ordinary man could do. Especially true that was when the matter of his personal happiness was considered. Sometimes being a good ruler demanded sacrifices and all he could do was to try to bear whatever misery it might cause him. That was the place of the king. But where to draw strength for the challenges of ruling if not in a happy marriage?

Sighing, he undressed of his damp clothes and tried to push away this constant pestering thought of marriage. It also looked like he had brought half of the beach with him, if anything could be judged by the amount of sand; the chambermaids would no doubt be delighted when they would have to clean up the mess he had made. But then, it wasn't really his fault. He hadn't exactly expected to be... assaulted. Yes. She had assaulted him. And due to her nature, he wasn't even embarrassed to admit that.

When he had changed into some dry clothes and combed the sand from his hair, it was already time for breakfast with Imrahil's family. Time could go by so quickly when one was preoccupied by things like unfathomable Gondorian mermaids.

The day he had arrived in Dol Amroth, the Prince had insisted that he shared the meals with the Amrothian family in their private dining room. This was a great honour of course, being allowed so near his friend's personal life. Éomer had not participated on family meals ever since his parents had died: after that, it had usually been the men of his éored that he dined with. Still, even if it was an honour, at first he had been worried whether he'd know how to act or if there was some etiquette one should follow. But the first dinner with Imrahil and his two sons who were currently in residence proved his fears wron. The atmosphere had been friendly, warm, and very informal. Quickly the banter between the princes Erchirion and Amrothos made him forget about proper behaviour, and he couldn't help but join Imrahil in laughter as the Prince chuckled and shook his head at his two sons.

Imrahil was already seated at the table as Éomer arrived to the light, airy room that served as the private dining room for the noble family. The furniture was of light wood and tapestries presented the silver and blue that were the official colours of the Princes of Dol Amroth.

"Good morning, my friend", Imrahil called at the sight of the young King of Rohan. "I trust you slept well?"

"Adequately, thank you. This sea air takes some adjusting", Éomer answered as he took his seat at the left side of Imrahil.

"Oh, believe me – they often say that the sea air is good for you. I assure you that once you return your kingdom, you'll feel most refreshed and you'll come back riding in no time", the Prince promised. Éomer decided not to point out that there were other things in Dol Amroth to provoke his interest than the climate.

Erchirion was also seated already, but Amrothos only just arrived. The youngest of three princes of Dol Amroth looked like he was only half awake. His hair at the left side of his head stood up which he didn't seem to notice, and he yawned and scratched at the back of his neck. Erchirion rolled his eyes at the sight but said nothing.

"Amrothos, have you seen your sister?" Imrahil asked his youngest son.

"Father, I don't think Amrothos would have noticed it even if twelve dwarves had passed by him, playing trumpets as they went", Erchirion remarked from his place at the other end of the table, not lifting his eyes from the book he was reading.

"Erchirion, manners", Imrahil said somewhat absent-mindedly. Éomer had already noticed that it was a phrase that was often repeated in this table. The Prince looked at their Rohirric guest, "My daughter was visiting some family in Lossarnach as of late. She only rode home late last night, after you had retired. I told her we'd have company and that she should not linger this morning, but as you have probably seen, my children do as they please..."

Imrahil shook his head, but Éomer could tell that he was still very proud of his offspring.

"My sister spoke well of your daughter", the young king said, though he couldn't really tell what that meant. Éowyn of now seemed in many ways so different, so that sometimes he almost felt like he was speaking with a completely new person.

The Prince smiled at his words.

"Oh, yes, I understand Lady Éowyn and my daughter have become good friends during her visits to Ithilien", he agreed.

"Can't imagine why. Our sister is a wild beast", Amrothos chortled. He had already consumed a cup of tea and apparently with its help he had finally woken up.

"Brother! I heard that. You have a lot of gall to call me wild beast when you're much worse", came a clear, bright voice. The suddenness of it made Éomer freeze where he sat, for the private dining room in the palace of Dol Amroth was the last place where he had expected to hear that voice.

Yet there she stood, at the door of the chamber. She was just as much a vision now that she didn't look nearly naked anymore: her pale skin very much agreed with the blues and silvers of her simple but elegant gown. Her hair, damp from her swim and rain, hung all the way to her waist and still looked like a crown... it was her, the mermaid - here of all places!

"There you are, Lothíriel! Didn't I tell you to be early?" Imrahil scolded, but she didn't look like she had heard her father. She was staring at Éomer, looking just as astonished as he felt. She hadn't expected to see him here... just like he had thought her the last person to make an appearance.

Lothíriel. Of course the name should have rung a bell in his mind. How many times had Éowyn and Faramir mentioned the Princess Lothíriel? He was fairly sure Imrahil had mentioned her name too. And all the while he had been too distracted or just slow to make the connection.

Both of them must have looked immensely flabbergasted, for the Prince looked curiously from his daughter to Éomer, and the scene appeared to have sparked even the attention of Erchirion and Amrothos.

"Is something wrong, Lothíriel? Éomer?" Imrahil asked. The young King of Rohan tried to think of something to say, but it was her who spoke at first.

"Oh, it's nothing", she said, her voice considerably sweeter than he remembered from the beach. "I was just surprised to see the Lord of the Mark here."

"I did tell you that we had company, daughter. Who did you think would be our guest?" Imrahil wondered out loud, lifting his eyebrows.

"It appears that both myself and the Princess have a taste for morning walks on the beach, Imrahil. I have already made the acquaintance of your daughter", Éomer said, having recovered his voice.

"Ah! I see. Well, at least that saves me the trouble of introductions, then", the Prince said and smiled.

Lothíriel sat down at the table, opposite Éomer; whether it was some meaningful act or just her claiming her usual place, he couldn't tell. Nothing about this woman seemed to be like he'd have thought and he found that he had hard time not staring at her. Remembering how he had talked to her, a noble princess of a great house, he felt very embarrassed. He'd have to apologize for that later... at least he thought so until she gave him a small but not so innocent smile.

"I was very unhappy that Lothíriel could not join us in Minas Tirith for the celebrations after the war ended. When myself and my sons rode for war, she was left in charge here in Dol Amroth. You see, my late father Prince Adrahil took pride in providing a very extensive education for all my children... including Lothíriel. She took part in all the lessons that my sons received, except for the battle training. So you could say that when the war broke out, my daughter was the most qualified person in all Dol Amroth to rule in my stead", Imrahil explained. His words surprised Éomer very much. Given that she was still unmarried, the princess had to be young still and her manners so far would not have made him think she would be very highly cultivated. Yet she already had experience of ruling the most important fiefdom of Gondor, and the way her father spoke she must have done it very well.

Perhaps his surprise showed on his face, or she was a mermaid and so had some unnatural power of reading his thoughts, for she gave him a pointed look.

"So, my lord, how long are you going to stay here in Dol Amroth?" she asked lightly, but in her storm-grey eyes there was that challenge again. Did this woman never grow weary of testing him?

"It depends, my lady", he said and leant back in his chair. He'd be damned if he'd let her get to him!

"On what, if I may ask?" she inquired, watching him ever as she sipped her tea.

"On how long I feel I am welcomed here... and what prospects I find in your fair city", he answered gracefully. It was too seldom that one got the chance of trying one's verbal sword like this, as most ladies were too busy trying to please him, and he was finding he rather liked this for change.

She looked like she was about to say something. However, Imrahil spoke first.

"You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you wish, my friend. Like you said yourself, the relations between Rohan and Gondor have been too sparse in past years", the Prince commented and offered him a wide smile.

"Indeed. If it depended just on myself, I'd no doubt find myself lingering here endlessly..." Éomer said, casting a quick glance at the princess, "but I fear I must sooner or later return to the Mark, where my duties wait for me not so patiently."

"What prospects do you hope to find here precisely, my lord?" the princess pressed on. And still she would wear that innocent smile of hers, when all the while her eyes would glimmer... what an insufferable woman.

"That remains to be seen", he said, however.

"And I trust you're the most enthusiastic explorer, as one would deduce by our conversation at the beach", she remarked and picked up some bread.

Imrahil didn't seem to notice that anything was going on, and Amrothos was more or less oblivious too, but Erchirion's eyebrows had shot up to make the acquaintance of his hairline. The second-oldest prince appeared to have completely forgotten about his book.

"I do my best, Princess", Éomer said lightly, busying himself with some creamy porridge.

"Sounds like the two of you had very pleasant time on the beach", Imrahil commented.

"Oh, it was very pleasant indeed", Lothíriel said, somehow succeeding to produce a mix of snort and snigger. "Éomer King is every bit a man the stories tell."

He very nearly lost his composure at that, but thankfully Imrahil spoke again.

"I'm afraid we have been exhausting Lothíriel with our stories from Minas Tirith and of your House to no end. And when she escapes us to find some company that is not constantly reminiscing the events of late, she is bombarded with the tales of Gondorian ladies who were present during the aftermath of war", the Prince said. Then he straightened on his seat. "Speaking of our ladies, how is the question of your marriage as of late?"

Éomer very nearly made a completely un-kingly face at his friend, but he was able to hold back that reaction. The last thing he needed was his friends pestering him about that damned matter.

"I haven't really thought much about it", he said reluctantly, "which no doubt brings ceaseless despair to my advisers."

"The unmarried ladies of Gondor will be delighted to hear that, I imagine... Aragorn tells me that half of the daughters of the noblemen have taken up such hobbies as riding, and all the speakers of Rohirric are highly sought after for language lessons", Imrahil said and seemed highly amused by this. Now Éomer could not hold back a grimace.

"How wonderful. The next time I visit Minas Tirith, I just might do it in disguise", he muttered.

"You don't welcome advances from the unmarried women?" Lothíriel asked suddenly, one of her eyebrows lifted in a way that did nothing to hide her thoughts.

"It depends entirely on the nature of advance", he said before he could stop himself. "And so far, I've been impressed only once."

"Only once, my lord?" she asked, evidently having forgotten about her breakfast altogether.

"It's probably true, sister", Amrothos commented lightly. "And you would believe it too if you had seen how some of the ladies chased after him in the balls after the war – especially after they started to serve the honeyed wine. But I wonder which one of them was so impressive that even our bold warrior king would acknowledge his admiration."

"Indeed, do tell us, Sire. What does it take to impress the Lord of the Mark?" the princess asked innocently, staring Éomer with wide eyes.

The Prince still did not seem to notice anything, but Erchirion's eyebrows seemed to have permanently relocated in his hairline, and even Amrothos looked now like he had picked up something was going on.

"Only the lady in question knows that... and believe she is very aware of the effectiveness of her assault", Éomer managed, though it certainly did not sound as sharp as he'd have liked. It looked like this round went to the princess.

"Well, I suppose we must allow you this secrecy... but hopefully we'll hear about this mysterious lady again. Your marital status is, after all, the gossip of the realm", Imrahil said and chuckled.

"Is that so? I'm tempted to ride back to Edoras this moment and propose to the first woman I come across, just so that the gossip will find some more interesting matter to talk about", the young King sighed. His friend seemed to sense that a change of topic was necessary, for he leant forward in his chair and composed a look of business on his face.

"I was thinking, my friend", he began, which made Amrothos snigger.

"Oh, that never promises anything good", he said and then yelped. Judging by the dirty look Lothíriel gave her brother, she had just kicked him under the table. Imrahil ignored his son, though.

"Now that you're here in Dol Amroth, how would you feel about a banquet in your honour? The word of your presence will spread soon anyway, and the local nobility will come running here in the hopes of getting to introduce themselves to you. So a proper banquet would make it everything easier and smoother for all, and you'd be able to establish connections with the high and mighty in these parts of Gondor", Imrahil proposed.

Éomer quietly considered this suggestion and stared down to his plate of porridge. He wasn't too fond of grand Gondorian celebrations, and especially he didn't look forward to being introduced to swarms of lords and ladies he wouldn't even remember afterwards... but Imrahil's suggestion wasn't bad one, no matter how he personally felt about banquets. After all, wasn't it his responsibility as the King of Rohan to represent his country and take part in social gatherings such as the one his friend was proposing? Who knew what ways it could benefit his land.

"I suppose it is a good idea", he finally agreed, which made Imrahil smile. He still couldn't suppress a slight grimace, though. "There are going to be many fathers along with their marriageable daughters, correct?"

"Well, you are a young unmarried king, after all", the Prince said with a smile. "Don't be so grim, my friend. It can actually be a merry gathering, if you give it a chance. Perhaps your mystery lady will attend too."

Éomer looked at the princess, who sat opposite him. She was watching him in a way he could not really decipher. When he spoke, he knew his face was not as inscrutable.

"I hope that she will."