Disclaimer: I don't own Prince Imrahil, Eomer, Legolas, Aragorn, Guthlaf, or any other character from Lord of the Rings that may come into this story. I don't even own Lothiriel. See The Return of the King, Appendix A, The Kings of the Mark, Third Line, Eomer Eadig for information on her. Everything belongs to JRR Tolkien or whomever he sold it to. Too bad, isn't it?

A/N I: This one was thought up during water polo practice and written on a train from San Francisco to Santa Barbara, with a strange boy trying to read it over my shoulder practically the entire time. I apologize, then, if it has suffered from these influences. This is my longest chapter yet, so… read on.

6/20/02- A/N II: Having recently read King of the Mark by Alon (excellent story, by the way), I was surprised to observe that our stories had taken an unusually similar turn in the sense that Loth was sent off for "princess-training" of a sort. Wanting to avoid any kind of overlap, I took it on myself to edit this and keep them different. This chapter's not much changed, except now Lothiriel is not sent away for training, she's just plain exiled from her country. *grin* How I love Dol Amrothian disciplinaries.

***

Chapter 6- The Decision

Eomer of Rohan's breath caught in his throat. Who was this? He had never seen anything like her. Brown eyes met gray, and he could have died happily right then and there. Surely she wasn't a commoner. If it was known that the women of Dol Amroth looked like this…

Guthlaf's voice interrupted his thought. "Lord," he was explaining, "this is Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, the prince's daughter."

Ah. A princess. Of course. It seemed fitting, somehow. Eomer bowed, instantly regretting it as it meant they had to break eye contact. But by the time he had straightened up, she'd changed. It was hard to describe. Before, he had been looking into the face of a beautiful woman, and her expression was almost shy, but steady as she looked him over and seemed to like what she saw.

Now her chin was lifted defiantly and her eyes were neither shy nor vulnerable. Her glance now might have frozen him, had he been less dauntless. She was still beautiful, but she had set herself up behind a wall- strong, secure and cold inside the fortress of her mind. Eomer fought the urge to take a step back in alarm.

Guthlaf had apparently noticed the change, too. He was looking at Lothiriel with the troubled, resigned and, at the same time, exasperated expression of a man who knows what is about to happen and likes it not.

"Loth," he said with a small sigh, "this is Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark and the nephew of my king."

Lothiriel reluctantly extended her hand, intending for him to shake it. Eomer knew this full well, but a spirit of mischief suddenly seized him. He took her white hand and bent over it, gently touching his lips to her knuckles. Loth involuntarily made a noise in her throat and snatched her hand back. They stood there for a moment, the princess glaring in surprised indignation, the Rohorrim lord trying not to laugh, and the messenger looking between them as if highly amused at something. Then as if on cue, they each began talking at once.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Eomer, we need-"

"Don't think you can just-"

Guthlaf held out his hands, palms outward. "I'll make this short. Loth, calm down, you're turning nearly purple. Eomer, we need a favor."

The man was still holding back laughter, Lothiriel noted in annoyance. Large oaf. No one was that tall, anyway.

"Anything, old friend."

Oh, who was he kidding? Since when were the lords of the Rohorrim so friendly with their subordinates? Guthlaf was special, of course. But no one was supposed to notice that but her.

"You see, Loth and I were gone last night, and she needs to get back to her quarters without anyone noticing she didn't return. We were going to slip in the side way, but if her father comes out to greet you we'll be seen and milady here is going to catch fire, if you understand me. We would be rather obliged if you would wait a few minutes until she's back safely in her room, and no one's the wiser." Guthlaf explained hurriedly, glancing back towards the castle as if he expected the prince to come charging out any second.

Eomer was surprised. This 'friendship' must have been deeper than he'd thought. They had been together last night? He felt an odd emotion wash over him- resentment and a bit of jealousy. Not that he had any right to jealousy! 'You looked the girl in the eyes for five seconds, Eomer, it doesn't mean she's there for the taking!' he told himself. "Certainly," he said aloud, keeping his voice neutral. "I'll watch you go in, then wait ten minutes and ride up to the gate."

Loth was surprised and a little gratified. With the evil disposition she'd already convinced herself he possessed, he should have refused. "My thanks, lord," said Guthlaf with a grin, as he grabbed Lothiriel's hand and pulled her toward the path they had left. Loth glanced back to find Eomer's eyes on her. He actually had the audacity to wink.

Oh, that clout. She would soon settle him.

Eomer watched them go in the faint morning light, rather regretfully. Wonderful. He found the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, then managed to make her hate him, and then found out she was involved with his old friend. And he hadn't even seen Prince Imrahil yet.

***

"Shh!" Lothiriel hissed as Guthlaf stumbled on the stairs, letting out a muffled curse. "Don't wake anyone. It's dawn already, they'll be awake soon enough as it is."

"Apologies, milady," he grinned up at her. She could never be angry at Guth.

They took the rest of the stairs two at a time, then crept along the corridor to her door. "Thank you, Guthlaf." said the princess, heaving a sigh of relief as she pushed open the door. "I'll let you out the window and you can climb…" she trailed off.

Prince Imrahil was seated in her room, waiting.

***

"…And as if that's not enough for me to worry about, I go to talk to my daughter in the middle of the night only to find her chamber empty, and the maid telling me that she was headed off into the woods with a messenger boy!" Imrahil paced the floor in front of them. Loth was standing, her head up, Guthlaf behind and to the left of her. "And you, Lothiriel!" he said, whirling and pointing at her. "I'm trying to have you trained to rule this country. You are my only heir. You should know better than to get tangled up with this child! I can't even tell you how angry I am. When you need sleep and training, you're off in the woods, FOOLING AROUND WITH A SOLDIER!!!"

Guthlaf stepped in front of Lothiriel protectively. Not that she needed protecting- her eyes were flashing very dangerously. Almost anyone but her father would have been running for cover, had she been looking at them like that. It was as if she was trying to throw daggers with her gaze. Guth addressed the prince.

"If you'll listen to me, Your Highness, I believe I could explain-"

"THERE WILL BE NO EXPLAINING!" thundered Imrahil. In a deadly calm voice, he informed her, "I hardly know what to do with you. You need to learn what is done and not done, as a future ruler of Dol Amroth."

"I am sick and TIRED-" Lothiriel began. Guthlaf cut her off before she could continue and land herself in deeper trouble.

"Your highness. Sir. Listen to me. This is not what it looks like. Lothiriel and I went for a walk. We went too far and didn't notice when it got dark. It was too long of a walk to make in the darkness, so we had to camp in the woods. We set out early this morning, intending to be back before anyone awoke. Obviously, we didn't succeed, but here we are. I can assure you, sir, we did nothing wrong."

"A likely story," sneered the prince. "Sneaking back in here at first light? Walking off arm in arm? You have not acted innocently."

"We tried to cover it up because we knew you'd do exactly this!" interrupted Lothiriel hotly. "We knew that you would jump to just these conclusions. And you are wrong, sir. We have done nothing."

Guthlaf nodded his agreement.

The prince stared at them both. As difficult as his daughter could be, he had never taken her for a liar. The story was unlikely, but not impossible. Perhaps they were not guilty, after all.

"I will consider what you have said," he told them levelly. "But the fact remains, daughter, you are seriously out of line. I may have to take drastic measures with you, if you're ever to learn humility. Perhaps-"

He was not allowed to continue. At that moment a maid knocked on the door, curtsying and informing them that one Eomer of Rohan had arrived and wished to speak with the prince.

***

An hour later, Lothiriel was summoned to her father's hall. Guthlaf was not, but he chose to come along anyway. The two wanted to spend as much time as they could together before Guth left later that day. And he was determined to know if she would be punished.

They entered the hall to see her father and some of his advisors seated at one end. Eomer was there, too, standing to the side and looking oh so smug. She fought the urge to slap the smile off his face. Guthlaf stood at the door unnoticed as she made her way forward.

"Lothiriel."

"Your Highness."

Prince Imrahil grimaced at her icy tone, but continued. "We have been discussing what is to be done with you. Although I may have been- ahem!- mistaken earlier, I am still of the opinion that you need to be taught a lesson. In any case, your behavior has become intolerable and unfit for this castle."

Lothiriel had not been expecting this. A small hope rose in her mind. Was he going to send her back to Lothlorien?

"Prince Eomer has agreed to escort you…"

He was sending her back!

"…to Edoras, the halls of King Theoden. Maybe after a period of time there, you will return with a better sense of dignity and propriety."

He was exiling her.

She paused and waited for this to sink in.

He was exiling her to Rohan with Eomer. The man she had already taken a disliking to. Oh, that smile! Was he taking pleasure in her distress?

"I'm sure they don't want to be bothered. Things are so troubled already. The war-"

"The war is further off than you seem to think, daughter."

"And, milady," Eomer added, "we would be honored to have you at Edoras, no matter why you were sent."

Lothiriel glanced at him. He was taking pleasure in this.

Guthlaf could hardly contain his glee. She was coming home with them!

Lothiriel groaned. "How long will this trip take?"

"Fourteen or fifteen days."

"And we leave…?"

"In three hours."

Lothiriel pivoted on her heel and stormed from the hall. "Farewell, Father." she muttered. As she passed Guthlaf, he could hear her chanting something under her breath. "Nathon thalion, nathon thalion…" she was repeating to herself as her footsteps receded down the corridor.

"It's done, then." The prince sighed heavily.

Eomer caught up with Guthlaf, both of them hiding smiles.

This trip promised to be very interesting.