The morning flew by for Eomer, which he spent training with the Dol Amroth military and his comrades.
It was finally the afternoon and he was feeling light and freshly scrubbed from the morning's training and now making his way to the stables.
It felt like the first day of Spring for Eomer, who for the first time looked forward to spending an afternoon with someone.
Wilhelm, who was bunking down the hall, caught a sight of his commander walking past his chambers - whistling - of all things. "Where you headed off to?" he asked.
"Don't worry about it, friend," called back Eomer as he kept walking, trying his best to suppress a grin.
Lothiriel spent the morning soaking languidly in the bath, humming an old melancholic tune of Beren and Lúthien, a song about star-crossed lovers of man and an elven Princess who fought all odds to be together. It was romantic.
While Elva chatted on about the latest scandal in the castle doing her morning rounds, Lothiriel put on her riding breeches and boots quietly. She wanted to avoid the barrage of suspicious questions from her ever-alert caretaker.
"- turns out, the child was the groundskeeper's! Absolutely scandalous. Everyone thought the Lord's wife was barren -"
"Unbelievable," Lothiriel said as she tiptoed towards the door.
"Indeed! Oh and your Aunt Irviniel will be here this afternoon and your father requests your presence for dinner tonight, dear -"
Two feet from the door, Lothiriel was caught mid-creep.
"That's wonderful. Tonight?" Lothiriel asked, trying to appear casual.
But Elva was too quick.
"What's this?" she asked, gesturing to Lothiriel's outfit.
A white lie slipped past Lothiriel's lips. "Oh, just for the afternoon in the menagerie."
"Oh?" Elva eyed her suspiciously. "Hm."
"Hmm," Lothiriel replied back cheekily.
Elva opened up her mouth to speak.
But before she could start, Lothiriel stealthily slipped out the door.
Eomer saddled up Firefoot and patted down his sturdy stallion. He could sense Firefoot's excitement in being saddled.
Lothiriel neared the padlocked pasture, catching a sight of the stately Marshal and his equally impressive steed.
A mixture of nerves and excitement fluttered around in the pit of her stomach.
"Hello," she called out.
Eomer looked up from Firefoot. "Hello."
He gave her a smile and she returned it.
They stood there smiling for a beat until Eomer cleared his throat.
"Shall we?"
"Yes, right."
She turned to Firefoot, who was suddenly a lot taller than she remembered.
A burst of nerves crept up again.
"..how?"
Eomer stepped forward and showed her where to place her foot onto the stirrup. "Here."
But there was a height difference.
Lothiriel made an attempt to lift herself up but lacked momentum. Eomer spotted the struggle and gave her second ascent a boost by placing his hands on her hips and guiding her on top of Firefoot, both tensing at the touch.
Lothiriel turned her focus back onto the horse and took a look around.
"It's quite high up here," she said nervously.
"I'll be here," Eomer assured her. "Ready?"
She nodded.
He took hold of Firefoot's rein and nudged the horse to walk.
Lothiriel spent the next moments trying to find balance and get used to the foreign movements. She was a little stiff and holding onto a bit of fear.
Eomer sensed the tension and made an attempt to soothe the Princess. "You're a natural," he offered.
She exhaled a laugh, knowing he was flattering her. But it did help and helped her let go of the uncertainty she felt at experiencing something for the first time.
"I didn't expect to be this nervous," Lothiriel admitted.
"Riding is intuitive," instructed Eomer gently. "If you lead, the horse will follow."
Eomer walked alongside them and guided them through the pasture.
After a lap, Lothiriel found herself more familiar to the ebb and flow of Firefoot's steps.
They continued to walk alongside the pasture's fencing.
"I'm thankful Firefoot is gentle."
Eomer gave a chuckle. "He is now. But it took me two tours to break him in. He was a stubborn one."
He handed the reins to Lothiriel and instructed her how to steer. It was to be done with a confident light touch, a gentle pull to the left or right.
She took the reins determinedly.
"It takes time for some as some don't wish to be tamed," Eomer continued. "But if successful, it's a hard won loyalty and the bond is greater."
"And does the same sentiment extend to its owner?" Lothiriel asked playfully.
It was said in a teasing tone but deep down came from a place of genuine inquiry.
Eomer let out a surprised laugh.
"I think that depends on who's doing the taming," he replied back.
Their eyes darted quickly towards one another at the loaded question and answer.
The afternoon went by with Lothiriel growing more comfortable on horseback and even circling the padlock a few times on her own as Eomer looked on.
The luster of the lesson dwindled by the end of the afternoon and Lothiriel decided she had learned enough for the day.
Determined to end the lesson with a successful dismount, she took a deep breath to swing herself off but then saw the distance, which was dizzying.
Oh no.
No, no.
She called out to Eomer sheepishly, "I'm afraid to get down."
Eomer chuckled. He took her hand and elbow, and trusting his strength, she let herself swing over.
He caught her as she fell into his arms and planted her on the ground.
"Thank you," she said breathlessly, gripping his strong arms.
He was very close and she learned in this moment she fit just perfectly under his broad shoulders.
"Oh," she said blushing, noticing she was still holding on.
"It was a good lesson," she said letting go.
"I did mention you'd be in good hands," Eomer said grinning.
Lothiriel laughed.
Following the lesson, Lothiriel tasked the Marshal in bringing a bale of hay for Happy, leading him to the menagerie.
"I couldn't spend the afternoon with another horse and not see you little one," Lothiriel cooed.
Eomer kneeled down and observed the small creature.
"How did you come upon the defective horse?"
Lothiriel gasped. "It was a gift!"
"A gift?"
"Yes."
Eomer fed a handful of hay to Happy who nibbled eagerly.
Lothiriel spoke carefully, mindfully gauging Eomer's reaction.
"It was a gift from a foreign Lord actually. I suspect it was an attempt to woo me."
Lothiriel couldn't hide the slightly provocative tone in the last sentence, which Eomer recognized.
He stood up to his full height and gazed down at the Princess. She was once again aware of his impressive stature.
"If it was a gift in an attempt to woo, I think it's fair to say it was a bit shortsighted," he said, delivering his lines with a quiet bravado. She could make out faint lines of a smirk.
Adrenaline coursed through Lothiriel, who was impressed but also a little intimidated.
"And you think you could have done better?" she challenged looking up at him.
"I would have. And it would have been bigger."
Heat crept up Lothiriel's cheeks.
"That's quite a big game you talk of, Marshal."
He brushed a stray strand away from her face.
She felt his rough battle forged hand graze her soft cheek and pull away.
Her heart beat furiously at the intimate gesture.
She caught sight of his hooded eyes, which she read as wanting her as much as she wanted him.
She slowly trailed her hands up his stomach where she felt his taut muscles and rested her hands on his broad chest and leaned in.
And waited.
But nothing.
Puzzled, she opened her eyes to see Eomer pulling away.
Confused, Lothiriel stammered. "I - I'm sorry."
She couldn't quite make out Eomer's expression, which led her to feeling embarrassed.
"I apologize," she said again.
Eomer was torn. "No, I apologize."
A cloud of tension and uncertainty hung in the air.
Not wanting to stay after the stinging rejection, Lothriel turned to leave.
Katia0203 - Yas girl, what a weekend to celebrate! Fun things will happen - soon? - but for the moment felt it needed a few more beats to develop.. : ) Thanks for the support as always.
xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thank you! : )