Next morning Lothíriel awoke early - which was very unlike her. She braided her hair, put on a rather simple bordo dress and walked outside her bed-chamber in order to look around Meduseld. It was still dawn so no one was there and she could her the echo of each step she took. She was not impressed with the interior, Lothíriel frowned - such spacious halls could be decorated much better. But then again, as with Rohirric men, she didn't expect much from Rohirric interior masters either.

Lothíriel was very excited at the idea of becoming the Queen, but she had to admit that there were certain things on her mind that concerned her.

First of all, she knew she would be homesick. The climate and the landscape in Rohan was so much different than that in Dol Amroth. She could feel the dryness of the weather and exclusively green-brown colors of the Mark made her miss some blue and white.

She would also miss her brothers. Sure, they were annoying at times, but they were part of her life that could not be excluded. She could hardly imagine an existence without chattering with Amrothos, having heart-to-hearts with Erchirion or being moralised by Elphir.

She was also quite intimidated by Éomer. He did not look a patient man and she knew - no matter how good she thought of herself - that patience was an essential thing when living with her.

But more than anything, Lothíriel was frightened by the mare thought of her upcoming wedding night. She loved flirting and teasing men she liked, but what would it feel like to stand in front of a man naked? Especially a man like Éomer - handsome, fierce and probably experienced? What was she supposed to do, what was he supposed to do, how long did it last, how much did it hurt?

She had many questions and zero answers.

Sighing deeply, she went through the door and into the front porch of Meduseld. Only when it was too late to turn on her heel and go back, she noticed another figure standing there.

"Ah, Lady Lothíriel." Éomer forced a small smile. "It's pleasant to see you."

He did not look pleased at all.

She curtseyed gracefully as he offered her his hand.

"Lets take a walk through Edoras, shall we?"

Neither of them wanted to, but they set off regardless. Their lack of desire to spend time together was actually a pretty big problem in itself because just in a day they would get married and start making babies. There was no such thing as 'separating' or 'parting ways' in the Middle-Earth: if they got married they would spend the rest of their lives together. Unless one killed the other, of course. Then things would be easier at least for a while.

They walked in uncomfortable silence for quite some time, dropping awkward comments about the weather, beauty of queen Arwen and other obvious things. Then silence fell upon them again. Lothíriel thought hard on what subject she should touch on next, but nothing came to mind. She really had nothing to tell this man and she did not think that anything he said would interest her. He felt the exact same way.

"What do you think of Rohan so far, my lady?" Éomer asked finally, hoping to make small indifferent conversation complimenting her country and listening to praises for his. Both of them felt relieved for finally finding the seemingly fit topic. The whole point of this walk was to make as many people as possible see them together, convcincing them that the couple shared warm relationship. Which was, of course, a lie. As a matter of fact, they shared no relationship at all thus far.

"It's not as bad as I expected." she yawned making him stop dead in his tracks. "Do not take offence, my lord," she urged him to go on gently tugging on his arm. "but when you grow up in Dol Amroth, at the sea, every other country tends to leave a rather disappointing impression."

That was the time Éomer, King of Rohan, learned that none topic is safe when you're conversing with Lothíriel. And not just that. With those few words the relationship between the king and the queen-to-be finally began. That relationship, though, turned out to be a bit different than either of them imagined or their counselors expected. But all in due time.

"I have been at the sea," he snapped. "and quite frankly, I do not understand what's so fascinating about it." Now it was her time to gasp. "Actually, compared to the calm clear rivers of the Mark, I find it's turbulent waves rather repellent."

She pursed her lips tightly as he finished his comment.

They did not exchange a single word on their way back to Meduseld.


"The White City forever holds my heart, but I must admit - I have missed Rohirric plains." Faramir said as himself and Éowyn rode out into the more distinct lands of Rohan. Both woke up early that morning - as was usual with them - and decided to enjoy some private time before the city rose. . . and started talking.

"Yes, I believe it will be hard for me to leave all of this behind." Éowyn responded sadly.

"You are not being forced into marriage with me, my sweet lady."

"No, but leaving home is hard nonetheless." she turned her head to him and smiled. "At least I have a good reason to do it."

"Talking of marriage, what are your predictions, my love, for the freshly-baked couple?"

"I do not think they realize what they are doing." the blonde woman frowned thoughtfully. "I tried to reason with Gamling and Éothain that advising someone to marry a stranger is rather unwise, but they are too caught up in political benefits of such union to care about it on a more personal level. And Éomer," she blushed uncertain on what reaction to expect from Faramir - Lothíriel's cousin. "my brother does not care enough to try and establish an emotional connection with Lady Lothíriel."

"Why not?" Faramir arched an eyebrow.

"He is a fighter, not a lover." she sighed. "I think both my dear brother and your charming cousin are entering deep waters." Éowyn giggled. "Lets see who drowns first."


Lothíriel was furious. She was trying to be honest with her husband-to-be and in return got a slap in the face. His words were completely unfounded and ignorant, she thought as she stormed through the halls to her bedchamber. Staring at the floor and muttering curses under her breath made her unaware of a figure standing in her way before she crashed into it.

"My lady" a curvacious blonde woman smiled curtseying slightly while holding her head high.

"That's not a real bow!" Lothíriel retorted too irritated to put up with anything that didn't please her.

"You're not a real queen." smile never left the woman's face. "Not yet at least."

"How dare you?" by that point Lothíriel could have sworn that her eyes were burning red and smoke was fuming from her nose. Too much. Too much stress for one day!

"I am not perfect, Lady Lothíriel and admit to having many flaws, but shyness is not one of them."

"Who are you?" the queen-to-be threw her hands at her sides annoyed and thrown off by the woman's antics. This is not how she imagined her life as a queen to be, at all. People were supposed to love her and admire her and respect her every wish and need, not blatantly insult her and her country just after she arrived.

"My name is Lady Esdeline, I am the heiress of Rohan's second most infuential family."

"So tell me, Lady Esdeline, heiress of Rohan's second most infuential family," she mocked. "what are you doing in the Golden Hall?"

"I was invited for dinner, my lady."

"You seem to know the halls of Meduseld well." Lothíriel stated looking around the place to show that the conversation was not pleasant nor interesting to her.

"That's because I was supposed to live here." Lothíriel's head turned right back to the lady in front of her. "Before you came up, I was the most likely candidate to marry lord Éomer." she explained as a small smile was still evident on her lips.

"You must hate me then quite a bit?" the princess frowned now very curious.

"Oh, yes." the blonde nodded. "I had been throwing things at the wall and cursing Gondor for days." she admitted. "But the Rohirric skin is thick and I am pleased to say that I think I am quite over it now, my lady."

"I do not think you had much of a choice, lady Esdeline." Lothíriel tilted her head.

"Probably not." Esdeline shrugged. "But now I think we will be great friends, princess."

"Some people think the world is round." Lothíriel sniffed walking past the blonde woman and to her chamber.


Hugs and kisses to Pipkin in the Grass, Talia119, wondereye, silverswath, LadyNostarielofMirkwood, Kateari and littlemsstrawberry !