Chapter 10: Falling

The Princess of Dol Amroth watched as waves after waves crashed on the shore, leaving behind a line of white bubbles and darkened, moist sand. She dug her toes in them, reveling in the soft feel beneath her feet. The rising sun dyed the ocean a brilliant crimson and she breathed in the familiar salty tang, the slight breeze feeling like a loving caress. Dimly, a part of her registered that she would be thoroughly chided by her lady-in-waiting for one, sneaking out and two, for getting her dress ruined, again. Other days she would be bothered a little, but today she could not bring herself to worry.

Lothiriel was a realist. She was grateful that despite being born at a time period where the fairer sex was considered to be weak and second tier, her family never treated her so. Maybe because she had three brothers, or maybe it was the fact that she was the youngest, her requests were never denied. That's why, despite the stark disapproval of the society, she had learned how to wield a bow as swiftly as she had learned embroidery. When other little girls her age was busy dreaming about happy endings, she toiled alongside Amrothos, the small but deadly dagger in her hand as their eldest sibling drilled on about the easiest way to end a life. War was ugly, they could see no end in sight and she knew what happened to those in the losing side, specially women, if they were captured.

She was a realist and she preferred to take solace in the fact that she wasn't completely defenseless against danger. That was the same reason she had the jeweler craft her a ring with a secret chamber containing a lethal dose of fast acting poison, in case of capture.

She was a princess, she will not be helpless and Valar bless those men who took her lightly.

All in all, love and marriage was the last thing on her mind and even if it did occur, she was quite confident that she would remain a maiden through her life. Disrespect was something she would never stand for and men like her brothers and cousins were hard to find.

But then the war that seemed never-ending was over, taking with it the forever looming darkness that not only covered their lands, but also their hearts. The reign of peace began and suddenly, she was lost. Celebrations were rampant and as much as she detested large crowds, her presence was necessary.

It was there that she met him. When Faramir introduced her to his would be brother-in-law, she had expected the same amount of barely hidden disdain that always greeted her when a noble touched her hand to greet her. They were calloused, from years of practice with weapons and needles(not only the sewing ones), very much unlike that of a supposed lady. Instead, she saw in his eyes a new-found respect and admiration that she had never been subjected to before, and that had left her intrigued. They had conversed a bit that evening and that respect only grew when talked about his homeland with such adoration and pride that she was hard-pressed to tear her eyes away from him . Above all, she respected the call of freedom in Eomer's voice.

She shouldn't have been surprised, after all it was a well-known fact that the slaying of the Witch King by his sister Eowyn was one of the turning points in the Battle of Pelennor. That and spitfire women weren't that uncommon in Rohan.

So, she allowed herself to hope. Slowly, their acquaintance grew, keeping Eowyn and Faramir in the middle, and every moment she feared that her assumptions would be wrong, that she will wake up from this little daydream.

But she didn't have to.

Muffled footsteps sounded and she willed herself to rise.

"Are you scared, sister?" Amrothos joked. "We can cancel the wedding yet."

Her snort of amusement was completely unladylike. "We do not need another war in our hands, brother dear."

"Are you completely sure? You would miss the sea." It was a last effort and she was worried that her brother wasn't completely jesting.

She laughed. Yes, she would miss the sea, but there are a few pearls to be found outside it.

"You do love him, right?" He honestly looked worried. "You don't have to force yourself."

She merely grinned and told him to hurry up.

She could not answer that question truthfully, yet, but little by little, she could see herself falling.

A/N: Oh lookie, I'm alive!

Thanks Lady Lindariel for reviewing and shout-out to the person who put this fic in the community "Tolkien's Legendarium: The Ultimate Compendium". I'm honored.

Anyway, out of all the pairings in LoTR, Lothiriel/Eomer is my OTP. Which one is yours? *hint hint*

Anyone reading this? *cricket chirping in the background*