DISCLAIMER: ...like I own any of this! All sprung from the brilliant mind of one Professor Tolkien!

NOTES: It's been a while.....don't know if anyone still cares, but I'm determined to have a little more fluff before this ends sop here goes the cheesy part

Don't be too harsh, it was late when I wrote this but I needed to write something sweet and fluffy....... There is more still to come!

TRADITION

They should wait, she had said. Wait in telling, wait in making it known that the wedding her father desired so much would indeed become fact.

Eomer was not very fond of secrets, but Lothiriel had been adamant about one thing: She did not want them having to wait to get married for half a year. Which was exactly what they knew would come to pass if he walked up to her father and asked for her hand in marriage. Eomer knew that well enough, having once stood at the other end of this equation, being the brother to give his beloved sister away to Faramir. Their courtship and period of engagement had taken far too long for his sister's tastes and now he knew why. He should have known that his stern idea of propriety concerning Eowyns nuptial bliss would come back to haunt him someday........and now was the time.

Whether he liked it or not, he could see the merit in Lothiriel´s proposition of waiting to see how her father's mood would develop. In her opinion, the longer they waited to announce that they were indeed quite willing to marry one another, the less interested they could achieve to appear, the more relieved her father would be......and in turn his relief would make him more accessible to shortening the courtship.

Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil, princess of Dol Amroth.....

She was a hard woman to overlook, Eomer thought to himself as he stood in front of the stables with some of his men. He could see her walking with Eowyn, laughing at something his sister had said....... Hard to miss indeed with that head of fiery tresses which played around her face like wildfire. The more he looked at her, the more beauty he could discern in her delicate features, the grace of her movements and the sound of her laughter, Eomer realised. It was her frankness and honesty that had first struck a cord in him, that and the peculiar colour of her eyes, a blue like the sky at midnight.......

Lothiriel chanced a short look over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of his intent gaze.

Eowyn followed her eyes with a sly smile.....the intensity of her brother's gaze was not lost on her. She arched an eyebrow at him, before turning away again to wave to her husband who stood together with Aragorn and Imrahil on the terrace, immersed in conversation.

Who would have thought that it would become so very complicated for him to get married, how much a title and the obligations it entailed could change his actions, Eomer mused. The irony of the situation did not elude him. Had he still been his uncle's marshal he would have simply.......

At that moment, as he stood in front of the stables, hearing his men talk among themselves about their sweethearts and wives a quite obvious thought struck him......and he cursed himself for not thinking of it before. He was a Rohirrim.......he would not and needed not to wait any longer .....And it was in front of him all these past few days, since they had returned from their ride!

"Kalen....." he said with a mischievous smile.

"Yes, My lord."

"My horse...."

The sound of a horse galloping towards them was not enough to make neither Eowyn nor Lothiriel turn around, even if the sounds were rapidly growing louder. It was more the encouraging shouts of the Rohirrim and the enticed gasps of the women in the vicinity that made the two ladies turn their heads in wonder. By the time Eowyn had recognized her brother and his intention, she had sparsely enough time to step back from Lothiriel, who was looking at her in mild confusion, poised to ask if something was amiss.

In a blur of speed he had snatched her up, swept her from her feet with as much effort as he would have plucking a flower. One strong arm around her waist, he pulled herin front of him into the saddle, while he held the reins in his other hand.

"What are you doing?" Lothiriel whispered out of breath as he dug his heels into his steed, bringing it to an even faster gallop.

"Making my intentions known...." Eomer said in his low, serious voice, his arm still curved around her waist in a secure grip." ...according to old Rohirrim tradition. If I remember correctly, princess....you gave me leave to be bold."

Lothiriel gave a joyful laugh as the horse passed the gate of Edoras and sped over the open planes. She could feel her cheeks flushing slightly from the cool wind in her face and the fact that he was holding her tightly, so that her back rested firmly against his chest. She could feel the movement of the horse, them going with the fluent, seemingly effortless motion.....the warmth of his body, the hardness of his leather armour and the body underneath...

She turned her head enough to look at him and the mischievious look on his usually severe face brought a smile to her face.

"I could not wait any longer....." he admitted simply.

Smiling, Lothiriel closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the rushing wind in her face as the horse galloped over the sea of grass. She marvelled at the grace and effortless control with which he handled his steed, as though controlling the horse occupied only a small part of his attention.

"Tell me, milord.....according to Rohirrim tradition, how long would the courtship take?"

"This is the courtship....." he answered and she could hear a dark, amused chuckle in his words.

Eomer could see the hint of her guarded smile as her captivating eyes searched his face.

"So the girl either agrees or denies?"

He let the horse come to a sudden stop, and brought it around so that they were facing Edoras.

He bowed his head slightly, looking at her in his usual severe manner.

"Yes."

She put one of her hands on his leather clad right, smiling still.

"I agree...."

"I was hoping you would, princess."

"Tell me more about this tradition ...." she asked softly, her eyes glittering with a bemused light.

"It's an old custom...rarely employed these days, but some of my men claimed their wives this way...."

"As should their king?"

"I found it befitting the purpose..."

She nodded, pushing a few wayward strands of fiery red hair from her face.

From the distance they could almost overlook the entire city. Her father and the others appeared to be miniscule figures on the high terrace of Meduseld.

While she still looked up to the breathtaking sight, Eomers eyes settled on her face. Noticing the shift of his attention she turned slightly, as much as her position would allow, the exact moment he chose to lean towards her. Their lips met in a breathless motion of unison and Lothiriel moved one hand around his neck when she felt his arm tightening around her waist even more. The slight tickling of his beard on her smooth skin did not faze her; his lips were firm and warm. Eomer let go of the reigns to cup the back of her neck with his other hand. A raw, pressed sound fought its way up his throat and he pulled back, staring at her, both of them breathing heavily.

His eyes showed the full amazement he felt .....How could this girl whom he had known for only such a short while tempt him like no other woman he had ever known?

She looked at him with those dark blue eyes and blushed a little, but she did not lower her eyes or looked away in bashfulness. She returned his marvelling look with the same intense wonderment, as though she had not known that she feel a passion like this.

She would be his, those midnight eyes told him.

She would be his and there would be no apprehensions or secrets between them.

The prospect gave him a feeling of peace that Eomer had not known in a long time.

Lothiriel lifted her hand, weaving it through his hair, before she softly laid it on his chest.

The she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear.

"Kiss me again, king of Rohan....before we have to return to my father und you have to make your intentions known to him. Though I dare say that by now it will be obvious to him that his daughter has your favour."

Eomer laughed at that, shaking his head .....She had a way with words, his future wife. And he had to admit that it made her all the more alluring......she was not a simpering girl, but a young woman who knew her worth.

He kissed her again, more languidly this time, her lips were soft and yielding under his and she tasted of honey. The ardour with which she reacted and reciprocated told him that she held just as much passion inside as he did.

"Yes...." He breathed, once they hesitantly parted again and he was gathering up the reigns.

She could hear him draw a sharp breath as she covered his hand on her waist with hers, interweaving her fingers with his. She could feel their strength even through the smooth leather of his gloves and for some reason that thought filled her with an incredible tenderness.

They did not look at each other when he spurred his steed into a racing gallop again, stirring them back through the gates of Edoras.