Between a Princess and a King

Contending and Rescuing


10!
Lothiriel squealed inside as King Eomer spun her through the first steps of the tenth round. His eyes were shining. Even though she could see, and feel, the sweat on his body he looked resolute. It had taken a few rounds but the radiant blond warrior seemed comfortable with the steps now.

Tenth round! Ha! We shall beat those slowpokes. And that fat nobleman with the red cap– he is wheezing quite hard now. King Eomer thought with a grin. Up he darted his piercing blue eyes to the Princess' face. The King's mouth was quirked into a half smile and she laughed. Eomer wondered at the way his muscles relaxed at the sound.

Aragorn had retrieved his partner after speaking with the Rohirrim and was now stepping lightly to Eomer's right. Legolas was moving with such ease that his partner seemed to be floating– the elf made her dancing look superb. Having an elf accompany you can do that. The dwarf, who had excused himself from the gracious company of his partner, was seen atop the dias calling for more ale. Eomer chuckled at the small bearded fellow and pointed with his head to show Lothiriel what amused him. The sight of the dwarf once again growling for a "more earthy" drink was too much. The fair nose of the most beautiful woman in Gondor wrinkled and her eyes glinted as she laughed aloud once more. How strange, I thought women with wrinkled faces were ugly and spent. But with her nose wrinkled the Princess looks more alive and beautiful than anyone else.

King Eomer was just leaning in to speak in her ear when the four Sea Princes stepped onto the floor with partners. The light-haired warrior's jaw dropped in shock as the crowd cheered their start on the dance. He began to slow and looked at Lothiriel with eyes wide.

"My Lord King! We cannot slow down now! The competition is fierce!" Her voice rung with the increased thrill of rivalry. Using their clasped hands she pulled him back into rhythm.

"Do they not understand? If this is a dance of endurance then they have cheated us! We began at the beginning and have steadily continued, but their strength is fresh!" King Eomer's hand tightened slightly on her waist and his eyes shone with disbelief.

"My Lord King, as long as they can keep up they are allowed to enter whensoever they choose. I would wager my ruby necklace that the only reason it took them so long was that they interviewed the maidens to find the swiftest partners. My brothers are very competitive." Lothiriel explained. Eomer's face fell for an instant in frustration. Then he clenched his jaw and spun her wide. As she came back he spoke quietly near her ear, "I would wager that their sister is also competitive from words I heard her speak. If that be the case then she and I should have a good chance of besting the knaves."

Lothiriel smiled broadly and looked into the King's eyes. There was a strange fire there, but she was not frightened.

"I am." She conceded and then on the last step, "We do."

11!

Faster and faster the pairs stepped, now kicking , now prancing, now clapping as they twirled. Although the minstrels were having a grand time trying to outdo one another in speed and flair the harpist could feel his fingertips begin to throb. Prick, tap, prick, gliss….. He knew it would not be long before he had to take a break to run ointment on his abused phalanges. Looking once more out across the floor he noted with satisfaction that he would not have to stop before the winner was found.

Prince Imrahil was just excusing himself from his partner at the edge of the floor. The Lady he had danced with was an elder healer just come from Minas Tirith. She had spunk but both she and Imrahil were past their prime and left the floor honorably after a few rounds. There was much cheering and applause.

Although Amrothos was youngest, and spryest of the Dol Amroth princes at intervals he lacked a fundamental understanding of rhythm. In most dances he was superb, however, when the pace quickened he could not adjust nor order his limbs to move along. So it was that only a round after Imrahil escorted his partner from the whirling crowd Amrothos' partner ran into him, sending him toppling backwards. Unfortunately, in his confusion he grabbed her arm and down she went as well. If not for Legolas they might have been trampled; for once their heads went under there was no telling where in all the colorful movement they had drowned. With a push Legolas spun his partner through a sudden gap in the crowd to the outer edge and ducked down to the tangled pair. In a moment he had them both standing and was able to direct the flow of dancers away long enough for them to escape. Amrothos' partner glared at him but her eyes shone as she beamed at her elvish rescuer.

To the joy of the onlookers, and chagrin of Amrothos, the pale elf bowed graciously to her before taking his leave. Gimli had found a knowledgeable server– meaning the lad knew where the ale was kept– and had enlisted him as a personal valet for the evening. The poor boy had a list of other people he was supposed to look after but the insatiable dwarf downed entire mugs in the time it took the boy to refill previous ones. After fifteen minutes of this, sweat began to tingle the lad's forehead as he realized that he was trapped by the most cunning dwarf he'd ever met– never mind that Gimli was the first dwarf he'd ever met.

Legolas came upon Gimli sitting on the polished wooden steps of the dias.

"My friend, does not drinking alone bring sorrow to your heart? You would better enjoy your ale with a friend I think." He pulled up two chairs and called for a glass of wine. The pair began to talk of all their adventures. As the conversation waxed Gimli's drinking waned. The young lad saw his chance and took it, dashing off into the crowd after delivering a final brimming mug to the now oblivious dwarf. Legolas smiled lightly at this. In his mind he added a tick mark– 3 mortals rescued tonight.

"I'll never forget the rush Gandalf was in to get to Edoras despite the fact that he took his time in finding us, let alone revealing himself as our wizard and not Sauron." Gimli grumbled.

"I doubt that you could call him 'our wizard', friend Gimli, for even now he is away who-knows-where. Only a moment ago he was down on the floor and now he has vanished." Legolas replied, scanning thoughtfully across the pavilion.

"For once, it seems, that I can claim greater knowledge than you, my elven companion! Prepare to be awed by the wisdom of Gimli the Dwarf." Eyes like flint glinted keenly beneath the dwarf's bristling brows. "You seem to have forgotten our insatiable pack of halflings. Frodo and Sam, praise the Valar they are alive, were worn after the festival yesterday afternoon. Meriadoc and Pippin joined them and the four talked long with Gandalf; catching up on one anothers' adventures. I am certain that they are either sleeping, eating, or still prevailing on Gandalf to set straight what happened after the Fellowship was broken. And in his turn I am sure Gandalf is scolding them about resting."

Legolas laughed, "Gimli, although I believe your thoughts are correct, you cheat by saying that they are either talking, as you suggest, or eating or sleeping– for do they not pass most time with food – tired or no? Nonetheless, I miss them. Gandalf cannot be winning them over to rest, they are a stubborn bunch. Would you care to visit them? Perhaps our tales would settle them so that an earlier bedtime than last night's will be won."

"Aye, that sounds much more appealing than watching the Men any longer. I am no dancer of Waltzes, but in my home under the mountain I turned a few eyes with my friends at our Harvest festival. Dwarvish dancing is altogether different. Besides, I miss the mischievous hobbits. For all I know, Merry and Pippin could be lost again. It's best we go and keep them company." Gimli, mug still in hand, stood and tromped down the dias and out of an arched doorway woven with wisteria.

Legolas followed him after a last glance at the buzzing mortals. It was still there, but thankfully, mortals held no true power over one another. If anything happened between King Eomer and Princess Lothiriel it was up to them.

"13!" The Beorning lad cried from atop a chair. His face was flushed with excitement as he pounded his thigh to the beat and eagerly followed the dancers with his eyes. Many couples were only barely keeping from falling behind. The rhythm of the steps could no longer be discerned as men mis-stepped, women lost shoes, and gowns swished to and fro. Gandalf's pupils had fallen out for the most part. A determined Gondorian infantryman reeled out to the edge of the floor, tried to swing back into the dancers, but could not change direction and took his red-haired partner through the spectators and over a stool. Thankfully no-one was hurt and the lady only laughed.

Prince Elphir, nonchalant, hadn't even broken a sweat yet. Dark eyelashes and a green gown distracted him somewhat from his feet, but his maiden partner was very quick and the pair seemed invincible. The other Prince of Dol Amroth on the floor had picked a partner with great strong legs, not that she had given him a look, but he knew it from the firm kicks he received often on his shins. The girl was too fast, passing his speed continually and wounding his body in her excitement. As the pair surged past, Lothiriel heard Erchirion almost hissing between clenched teeth, "One– Two– Three– Four– Five-Six-And-Se-Ven Eight…."

Eomer and Lothriel had both stopped talking; all concentration was on movement. Lothiriel didn't have to nudge him in directions anymore. He had the steps down and moved with confidence. His warm hand almost burned her waist although his touch was light as a bird. The tent was hot. Falling from the stars, the evening dew had cooled the company for a while, but as the activities became more intense so did the heat.

Eomer, King of Rohan, a land bordered by snowy mountains and Northern marshes, was not used to heat. Summer winds and hot, hazy, grasslands, but not the stifling heat of bodies and thick air. As he became more aware of just how hot it was his lungs began to demand air. Breathing deeply, his body rejected the stale, already-breathed gas invading it. Focus! We must not lose to those cheaters! But even as he thought it and glanced up into his partner's perspiring but confident face, his left foot collided with her right. The force of the blow spun her away for an instant, and in his panic he yanked her back, just as she attempted to regain her footing. Lothiriel threw her hands out in front of her and closed her eyes as she careened through space– right into the solid chest of Eomer. This cannot be the floor, it feels hot. She opened her eyes, and allowed the world to stop moving. Why aren't I on the floor? On her back were Eomer's sturdy hands. Quickly she flicked her eyes up to him. Wide, dark eyes stared down at her. His chest was heaving under her gripping hands. Around them the dancers continued to whirl. Lothiriel sighed.

Eomer frowned and his hands tensed on her back.

"I am sorry, my Lady. My blundering feet have ruined our dance." Scanning the area he looked for the safest route to escape the floor.

"Eomer," Dark eyes hit hers. Uncertainty wavered there, Lothiriel saw it. "Forgive me , my Lord-"

"You may call me Eomer." She could not read his face other than seeing the firm set of his mouth and those piercing eyes. "What did you wish to say?"

"I had a wonderful time, and I was ready for the dance to end. Do not blame yourself for anything. It was the most enjoyable dance I've had since….." Lothiriel's brow furrowed as she tried to remember. She couldn't. The sea Princess whispered, "...ever."

Something dark left his eyes then. Never knowing what it was, the Princess gently squeezed his shoulders and smiled. The noise of the watching crowd came back to them then and Elphir spun dangerously close with a wink at his sister. Obviously he was enjoying watching the competition drop like flies.

Once again becoming aware of Eomer's labored breathing, Lothiriel asked, " My L– Eomer, are you alright? You are quite warm." Eomer only nodded anxiously and gazed with longing at the arch leading into the cool darkness of the summer evening.

A way opened up for the pair as a couple on their right forfeited. King and Princess made their way quickly to the watching crowd and the overwhelmed Eomer continued with purposeful strides to the exit and out into the blessed night.


A/N: Well, school starts next week. I'll do my best to write more. R&R please. I want to know if you like it, hate it, are frustrated over my lack of a schedule etc. Any ideas are welcome. Thanks for reading and have a great day!