A/N. Shel Bel1983 – Without you and your continued encouragement, this story wouldn't exist.
Evening Nightshade – We should campaign for Eomer and Haldir!
Isa – I totally agree! There aren't enough Eomer fics out there!
Char – Thank you so much! You're making me blush!
JadeGoddess – They will meet soon, I promise!
And now on with the story……..
Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth sat at her window in solitude. The sun was beginning to set, and night was fast approaching.
Lothiriel dreaded the night. At night, all of her fears and doubts would come racing back to her mind and crash down on her like the strongest wave. At night, she would lie awake in bed and contemplate her future. And at night, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see the future as being anything but bleak.
She was fast approaching marrying age, and this annoyed her. Every night her father came to her room and read to her the long list of suitors that wished to court her, each of them proclaiming that she was the most beautiful woman in all of Gondor. Lothiriel didn't believe any of them, for she had seen the Queen of Gondor, and was convinced that no mortal woman could ever be compared in beauty to her Queen.
Lothiriel hated all this courting business, but her hate was mixed with sadness. For she knew, that no amount of begging, pleading, or cajoling could ever convince her father to let Damrod court her. Damrod was a horse handler, and in Lothiriel's opinion, the best handler in all the land. And she was in love with him. He was so kind and gentle and…mysterious. The air of mystery surrounded him and Lothiriel craved the excitement from it.
It was ironic that the only person she wanted was the one person she couldn't have. She'd never even approached her father on the subject. Her father had made it perfectly clear that he did not quite trust Damrod, as horse handler and as a man. So Lothiriel kept quiet until the right time.
A quiet knock on her door stunned her out of her reverie and Lothiriel moved to answer it. Shooting one last glance at the dying sunset, Lothiriel gathered her wits and bade her father welcome.
Her father, Prince Imrahil, entered with a large piece of parchment in his hands. It was larger than usual, and Lothiriel mused that her popularity had grown.
Clearing his throat, Imrahil spoke quietly. "We have received an invitation for an upcoming ball in Minas Tirith. It is being thrown in honor of the King of Rohan, who will be staying in the White City for a time. I would much like to go, and I ask that you accompany me."
Lothiriel was not quite sure of what to say. For on one hand, she loved the White City, and was eager to see the King and Queen and her cousin Faramir. On the other hand, she did not much like the idea of having to go to a ball, especially one thrown in honor of the King of Rohan, whom she'd heard was a great brute of a man. But upon seeing the longing to go in her father's eyes, Lothiriel made her decision.
"Of course I will accompany you," she said. "I am grateful for you invitation, and will be even more grateful if you could perhaps arrange a visit with my cousin."
Her father's face visibly lit up. "Of course, my daughter, of course! I'm willing to bet your cousin will be present in the city at that time anyway for the ball. Eowyn is sister to the King of Rohan. I fought alongside him in the war. A great man he is, Eomer, a great man…"
Imrahil was rambling by then, and Lothiriel slowly tuned him out. She had taken many a trip with him and knew that he would be in the same state until the arrived in Minas Tirith. Glancing at the invitation in her father's hand, she wondered how she was going to tell Damrod that she was leaving.
A/N. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! They make me blush and keep me motivated to write!