Eomer stood in his bedroom later that evening, getting ready for the
party in the hall and going over the day's events in his head. He had given
his visitors the grand tour of Edoras; from the stables, to the fields and
finally the intimate innerworkings of Meduseheld itself. He watched proudly
as the sons of Imrahil fawned over Eomer's best horses and joked happily
with Aragorn and Faramir. But his mind had not been his own since Eomer had
set eyes on the princess of Dol Amroth. Despite his suspicions, Lothiriel
was a stunning beauty, with a soft voice and bell-like laughter. She had
spent the entire afternoon on Eomer's arm, asking questions and politely
chattering with Arwen.
At lunch, she surprised Eomer yet again. Unlike most royal women, Lothiriel
engaged in conversations with Imrahil and himself, even Aragorn at times.
There was a point when Faramir found himself in a debate with his cousin,
and had to graciously give in to Lothiriel's sharp wit for fear of being
humiliated. One thing was for sure: Lothiriel was no timid little girl.
Eomer understood why Eowyn would find a friend in Imrahil's daughter.
Eomer caught his reflection in a mirror and frowned. "I can't go out there looking like this! I look like some kind of drowned Dunlending.Where in bloody mandos is my sister? EOWYN!!" He shouted and tapped his foot impatiently. Eowyn stuck her head in his door a few seconds later, with Faramir not far behind.
"You bellowed, my lord?" Eowyn asked.
Eomer pouted, a look certainly not very becoming of a king.
"Make me look lordly. And if you can't, I'm sure Faramir can. I tried but I just end up making myself look even more like the wrong end of a horse." Eomer straightened out his green surcoat and tried his best to put on a dignified face.
"Lordly is a look we will save for another day, my brother. I don't have the strength in me. Faramir might, but he will need it for the party tonight. Let's settle for dignified and clean tonight." Eowyn motioned for Eomer to sit. She pulled back his wet and ratted blond hair and proceeded to pull and comb it until it was pulled back into a neat ponytail.The entire procedure left Eomer with a headache.
"So what do you think of her, Eomer?" Faramir asked, content to watch his wife pull her brother's hair without bothering to interfere.
"Your cousin? Well considering she's related to you, I had my doubts. But truly, Lothiriel is gorgeous. To say anything less is a crime really. She's graceful, and witty and charming. All of which makes her attractive. But I do not know her. I've just met her. And while I can say that my body is completely interested, and my mind has been intrigued, my heart is still unsure. I would have to know her better. I must have her as a friend before I take her as a wife."
Eowyn pulled her brother up beside her and straightened his collar. "Well spoken. You're completely right. Its good that you don't feel anything for her, or worse, dislike her outright."
"I'm glad you finally see things my way. Do I look alright now?" Eomer turned to smile at Eowyn and Faramir.
"You did fine, considering you did it yourself without much help." Faramir commented.
"It's well enough I suppose. Come on, stop worrying. You're going to be late to your own party." Eowyn chased him from the room and down to the great hall.
The great hall was filled with noise as Eomer entered. He stopped at the top of the steps to get a look around before descending into the crowd and taking his seat at the head of the table. Aragorn and Arwen sat at his left, and Eowyn and Faramir to his right. Glancing around, he noticed that Imrahil and his children were not yet present, meaning that the festivities would not yet begin. He began to get nervous again, when Arwen pulled lightly on his sleeve.
"You are going to throw a wonderful party, Eomer. Stop worrying and have a drink." She smiled.
"How did you know?" Eomer shouted over the noise.
"Those darn elves." Aragorn smirked, and Eomer watched as he received a hard dig in the ribs from his wife. "By the way Eomer, are you ready to court Lothiriel? You seemed.smitten with her from first glance."
"Aragorn, I will not lie. She is beautiful. But I've already explained to my sister that I must get to know her better before I make any decisions."
"A wise decision in itself my friend."
Eomer watched as the rest of the guests entered the hall. Meriadoc Brandybuck was there, along with Pippin. Those two were inseparable, as always. Legolas had arrived, with Gimli in tow. Apparently, the elf had challenged the dwarf to a drinking contest. Eomer was anxious to see the outcome, as the dwarf was known to express his dislike at being outscored by a "pointy-ear". The sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir were present as well. Though Eomer had only recently been acquainted with the famous Rivendell twins, he found them companionable enough. They were far more laid back than most other elves he had met, and made good drinking partners after battles. With so many people in the hall, it was a wonder that Eomer even noticed Lothiriel's entrance at all. But he did.
Lothiriel walked down the steps on the arm of her eldest brother Elphir. The resemblance between all four siblings and Imrahil was uncanny, but Eomer was sure there was much of Lothiriel's mother in her as well. Her black hair fell loose in waves around her shoulders and finally ended at the small of her back. She wore a red gown of the finest silk, and it almost shimmered as she moved. She seemed to be concentrating on taking long, calculated strides, almost trying not to trip on the hem of her dress. She looked up and instantly locked eyes with Eomer. She turned a little pink and smiled, before Elphir guided her down to her seat.a whole twelve seats away from Eomer.
Eomer secretly kept an eye on Lothiriel throughout the meal. He watched as she became engaged in conversation with Elladan and Elrohir. He tried to keep his sidelong glances to a minimum. Otherwise, he might risk becoming distracted, as well as becoming the butt of one of Aragorn or Faramir's jokes. Both men knew Eomer was strongly attracted to the Dol Amroth princess, and found it easily to capitalize on Eomer's new vulnerability.
Soon the meal ended and the floor was cleared so there would be room to dance. Servants brought out endless trays brimming with tankards of ale. Eomer helped himself to a mug and sat down near the dance floor to watch the action. Lothiriel had excused herself to get some air earlier, and before Eomer could offer to escort her, Elladan had beaten him to it.
"Curse me for not minding the seating arrangements. It is my hall, and therefore my duty to escort her outside. Aragorn was right, darn those elves!" Eomer fumed. Someone sat down hard next to him, and has he turned, came face to face with Legolas.
"Well its not nice to speak of your friends that way. I'm downright heartbroken." Legolas looked genuinely betrayed, but Eomer saw the gleam in his eyes and stared at the elf until he broke out in laughter.
He and Legolas talked for a few minutes before Gimli waddled over and shoved a tankard in the elf's face. Clearly, the drinking contest was already underway and it seemed that the dwarf had the upper hand. Eomer excused himself, and made his way out onto the porch.
It was a cold and clear night in Rohan. The chill brought back memories of Grima and his possession of his uncle's mind. Eomer recalled some of the more hurtful things that Wormtongue had done to him, and his doubts returned. He began to think about being king, and how his position was truly meant for someone more noble. "I am a warrior, and the son of warriors. I cannot be king. I will fail miserably." He thought to himself. Eomer stared off the porch into the deepening darkness, and pictured himself being a poor ruler. He could already hear the complaints of his people, calling for him to step down from the throne. He hung his head and leant against the banister. It was so quiet, and he was so caught up in his insecurity that he did not hear the visitor creep up behind him and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Lord Eomer, are you alright?" Eomer recognized Lothiriel's gentle voice and wiped the tears from his eyes before turning to her.
"I'm fine, just needed a little bit of breathing room."
"I'm not bothering you, am I?" She asked, concern clearly written on her face.
"No, of course not. I was just headed back inside anyway. It's not right for the host to be away from his guests for too long."
Lothriel smiled. "Good. I was about to retire for the night when I remembered that it would not be polite for me to do so without first thanking the lord of this house for his hospitality." "It is no trouble at all, princess. Ah in fact, if you are not too tired, I would like to have you dance with me. Will you grant me that honor?" He waited, hoping that she would say yes and dreading what to do if she refused.
"I think I can manage one last dance. And please, call me Lothiriel." Eomer smiled, and inwardly cheered. Lothriel slipped her arm around his and they walked back into the hall. Stronghelm watched them come in and signaled the band to play a slower song.
Eomer put Lothriel's hand in his and they danced slowly. He was thankful the song was not more lively, as he was sure he would misstep and embarrass himself. He was also thankful that Lothriel could dance so well. No one would ever know that the mighty king of Rohan had two left feet.
They talked quietly all through the song, and one dance stretched on into six. It was getting horribly late, and despite Eomer's growing interest in Lothiriel, he knew he would need his rest. Tomorrow was another full day and he would need his sleep. It was with great reluctance that he escorted Lothiriel to her brothers and bid everyone a good night. Lothiriel thanked him one last time for his hospitality, and made an appointment to speak with him one on one in the next few days. As he turned to leave, Eomer watched her latch onto Amrothos' arm and beg to be taken to her room.
But when Eomer found his way into his bed, sleep would not come to him. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he tried to memorize the way she had felt in his arms. He found himself trying to sort out his feelings. "Yes, if I were still a simple soldier, and she a willing tavern wench, surely she would have already graced my bed a few times. But, she is a princess. I am king, but I still feel like a simple soldier. I can't marry her. Well, not until I can figure out how to be a king, at least. For Eorl's sake, I can't even look the part when I try." He lay back on his bed and watched the stars outside. Secretly he wished for inspiration and strength to make him a more confident king. And as he tried to psych himself out for the coming day, the only thought that entered his head was the way Lothiriel had laughed at his bad jokes and the sound of her voice lulled him off to sleep.
Eomer caught his reflection in a mirror and frowned. "I can't go out there looking like this! I look like some kind of drowned Dunlending.Where in bloody mandos is my sister? EOWYN!!" He shouted and tapped his foot impatiently. Eowyn stuck her head in his door a few seconds later, with Faramir not far behind.
"You bellowed, my lord?" Eowyn asked.
Eomer pouted, a look certainly not very becoming of a king.
"Make me look lordly. And if you can't, I'm sure Faramir can. I tried but I just end up making myself look even more like the wrong end of a horse." Eomer straightened out his green surcoat and tried his best to put on a dignified face.
"Lordly is a look we will save for another day, my brother. I don't have the strength in me. Faramir might, but he will need it for the party tonight. Let's settle for dignified and clean tonight." Eowyn motioned for Eomer to sit. She pulled back his wet and ratted blond hair and proceeded to pull and comb it until it was pulled back into a neat ponytail.The entire procedure left Eomer with a headache.
"So what do you think of her, Eomer?" Faramir asked, content to watch his wife pull her brother's hair without bothering to interfere.
"Your cousin? Well considering she's related to you, I had my doubts. But truly, Lothiriel is gorgeous. To say anything less is a crime really. She's graceful, and witty and charming. All of which makes her attractive. But I do not know her. I've just met her. And while I can say that my body is completely interested, and my mind has been intrigued, my heart is still unsure. I would have to know her better. I must have her as a friend before I take her as a wife."
Eowyn pulled her brother up beside her and straightened his collar. "Well spoken. You're completely right. Its good that you don't feel anything for her, or worse, dislike her outright."
"I'm glad you finally see things my way. Do I look alright now?" Eomer turned to smile at Eowyn and Faramir.
"You did fine, considering you did it yourself without much help." Faramir commented.
"It's well enough I suppose. Come on, stop worrying. You're going to be late to your own party." Eowyn chased him from the room and down to the great hall.
The great hall was filled with noise as Eomer entered. He stopped at the top of the steps to get a look around before descending into the crowd and taking his seat at the head of the table. Aragorn and Arwen sat at his left, and Eowyn and Faramir to his right. Glancing around, he noticed that Imrahil and his children were not yet present, meaning that the festivities would not yet begin. He began to get nervous again, when Arwen pulled lightly on his sleeve.
"You are going to throw a wonderful party, Eomer. Stop worrying and have a drink." She smiled.
"How did you know?" Eomer shouted over the noise.
"Those darn elves." Aragorn smirked, and Eomer watched as he received a hard dig in the ribs from his wife. "By the way Eomer, are you ready to court Lothiriel? You seemed.smitten with her from first glance."
"Aragorn, I will not lie. She is beautiful. But I've already explained to my sister that I must get to know her better before I make any decisions."
"A wise decision in itself my friend."
Eomer watched as the rest of the guests entered the hall. Meriadoc Brandybuck was there, along with Pippin. Those two were inseparable, as always. Legolas had arrived, with Gimli in tow. Apparently, the elf had challenged the dwarf to a drinking contest. Eomer was anxious to see the outcome, as the dwarf was known to express his dislike at being outscored by a "pointy-ear". The sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir were present as well. Though Eomer had only recently been acquainted with the famous Rivendell twins, he found them companionable enough. They were far more laid back than most other elves he had met, and made good drinking partners after battles. With so many people in the hall, it was a wonder that Eomer even noticed Lothiriel's entrance at all. But he did.
Lothiriel walked down the steps on the arm of her eldest brother Elphir. The resemblance between all four siblings and Imrahil was uncanny, but Eomer was sure there was much of Lothiriel's mother in her as well. Her black hair fell loose in waves around her shoulders and finally ended at the small of her back. She wore a red gown of the finest silk, and it almost shimmered as she moved. She seemed to be concentrating on taking long, calculated strides, almost trying not to trip on the hem of her dress. She looked up and instantly locked eyes with Eomer. She turned a little pink and smiled, before Elphir guided her down to her seat.a whole twelve seats away from Eomer.
Eomer secretly kept an eye on Lothiriel throughout the meal. He watched as she became engaged in conversation with Elladan and Elrohir. He tried to keep his sidelong glances to a minimum. Otherwise, he might risk becoming distracted, as well as becoming the butt of one of Aragorn or Faramir's jokes. Both men knew Eomer was strongly attracted to the Dol Amroth princess, and found it easily to capitalize on Eomer's new vulnerability.
Soon the meal ended and the floor was cleared so there would be room to dance. Servants brought out endless trays brimming with tankards of ale. Eomer helped himself to a mug and sat down near the dance floor to watch the action. Lothiriel had excused herself to get some air earlier, and before Eomer could offer to escort her, Elladan had beaten him to it.
"Curse me for not minding the seating arrangements. It is my hall, and therefore my duty to escort her outside. Aragorn was right, darn those elves!" Eomer fumed. Someone sat down hard next to him, and has he turned, came face to face with Legolas.
"Well its not nice to speak of your friends that way. I'm downright heartbroken." Legolas looked genuinely betrayed, but Eomer saw the gleam in his eyes and stared at the elf until he broke out in laughter.
He and Legolas talked for a few minutes before Gimli waddled over and shoved a tankard in the elf's face. Clearly, the drinking contest was already underway and it seemed that the dwarf had the upper hand. Eomer excused himself, and made his way out onto the porch.
It was a cold and clear night in Rohan. The chill brought back memories of Grima and his possession of his uncle's mind. Eomer recalled some of the more hurtful things that Wormtongue had done to him, and his doubts returned. He began to think about being king, and how his position was truly meant for someone more noble. "I am a warrior, and the son of warriors. I cannot be king. I will fail miserably." He thought to himself. Eomer stared off the porch into the deepening darkness, and pictured himself being a poor ruler. He could already hear the complaints of his people, calling for him to step down from the throne. He hung his head and leant against the banister. It was so quiet, and he was so caught up in his insecurity that he did not hear the visitor creep up behind him and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Lord Eomer, are you alright?" Eomer recognized Lothiriel's gentle voice and wiped the tears from his eyes before turning to her.
"I'm fine, just needed a little bit of breathing room."
"I'm not bothering you, am I?" She asked, concern clearly written on her face.
"No, of course not. I was just headed back inside anyway. It's not right for the host to be away from his guests for too long."
Lothriel smiled. "Good. I was about to retire for the night when I remembered that it would not be polite for me to do so without first thanking the lord of this house for his hospitality." "It is no trouble at all, princess. Ah in fact, if you are not too tired, I would like to have you dance with me. Will you grant me that honor?" He waited, hoping that she would say yes and dreading what to do if she refused.
"I think I can manage one last dance. And please, call me Lothiriel." Eomer smiled, and inwardly cheered. Lothriel slipped her arm around his and they walked back into the hall. Stronghelm watched them come in and signaled the band to play a slower song.
Eomer put Lothriel's hand in his and they danced slowly. He was thankful the song was not more lively, as he was sure he would misstep and embarrass himself. He was also thankful that Lothriel could dance so well. No one would ever know that the mighty king of Rohan had two left feet.
They talked quietly all through the song, and one dance stretched on into six. It was getting horribly late, and despite Eomer's growing interest in Lothiriel, he knew he would need his rest. Tomorrow was another full day and he would need his sleep. It was with great reluctance that he escorted Lothiriel to her brothers and bid everyone a good night. Lothiriel thanked him one last time for his hospitality, and made an appointment to speak with him one on one in the next few days. As he turned to leave, Eomer watched her latch onto Amrothos' arm and beg to be taken to her room.
But when Eomer found his way into his bed, sleep would not come to him. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he tried to memorize the way she had felt in his arms. He found himself trying to sort out his feelings. "Yes, if I were still a simple soldier, and she a willing tavern wench, surely she would have already graced my bed a few times. But, she is a princess. I am king, but I still feel like a simple soldier. I can't marry her. Well, not until I can figure out how to be a king, at least. For Eorl's sake, I can't even look the part when I try." He lay back on his bed and watched the stars outside. Secretly he wished for inspiration and strength to make him a more confident king. And as he tried to psych himself out for the coming day, the only thought that entered his head was the way Lothiriel had laughed at his bad jokes and the sound of her voice lulled him off to sleep.