A/N: hey, remember how i mentioned once that i already had later chapters written? well, here's the first of them, which is good, because this means i'll not have to think so hard about what i'm going to say. unfortunately, i have a research paper due tuesday (i'm going to try to turn it in on monday) which means that i will be writing said paper instead of typing my fic (i've been putting it off all week, and if i don't do it tomorrow, i may never get it done).
there's some foreshadowing in this chapter...i'll be interested to see who catches it before you meet Him........
**disclaimer** if i owned any of this, i would be putting it together in a book and having it published and making millions from the money you would pay for it. as it is, i don't even own the songs. 'the seagulls still follow on freedom' is a sea chanty, and 'i once loved a lass' is a folk song. i modified 'seagulls' to fit within the geography of middle earth.
Chapter X
April, T.A. 3021
The night after the travelers arrived in Edoras, a feast was held. The Rohirrim passed tankards around freely, singing bawdy songs. Lothiriel had never seen anything like it, not even in the pubs that dotted the wharfs of Dol Amroth. She told Eomer as much, and he laughed. "Welcome to Meduseld, Lothiriel, where your tankard will never be empty!" He grinned and added, "But how does a princess such as yourself know of the goings-on in the seaside taverns?"
Lothiriel smiled. "You forget, Eomer, that I grew up alongside five men: my three brothers and two cousins. There were no girls in my family. My only female companion in Dol Amroth was Mista, and her da owns the finest tavern and inn this side of Bree!" With that, she drained her tankard in one long gulp and refilled it.
"That does not explain how you know of the wharf-side pubs."
"Doesn't it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "I'll tell you then. Before I was sent to Rivendell, Mista and I followed Amrothos, my brother, whenever he snuck out of the palace. He always went to the same place: the Laughing Bards Tavern. He was sweet on a girl there, though now he is married to Nimrodel of Edhellond and has two children I have yet to meet." She fell silent, sipping her ale.
Eomer saw that her fair mood was darkening, so he said, "My lady, would you care to dance?"
She looked at him gravely. "Eomer, I can barely walk without tripping; how do you expect me to dance? You'd have to get me far more drunk than I already am."
"Care for some more ale?" He grinned at her.
"Why, yes, I do!" She allowed him to refill her mug, talking all the while. "Your songs are not so different from ours. I recognized the one about the man whose lover marries another. 'Tis a sad song no matter who sings it."
"Yes. We call it 'I Once Loved a Lass.' I think it traveled south from Anorien in the days of the Two Kingdoms. Our people have sung it for many generations." He glanced at her. "Are you ready to dance?"
Lothiriel laughed. "You really want me to make a fool of myself, don't you?" Eomer nodded. She emptied her tankard a third time, saying, "I'll not dance for you yet, but perhaps I will sing you a song."
"A song!" cried Eomer. He stood, silencing the hall. "My friends, Lady Lothiriel has offered to sing a song for us. What say you to that?" Cheers arose from the crowded hall as Lothiriel blushed deeply.
"You did not tell me I'd have to sing it for everyone," she whispered as she took a harp from a near-by bard.
"You didn't ask." He grinned impishly. "Now what will you sing for us?"
Lothiriel sat thoughtfully for a moment, tuning the harp. The entire hall watched her intently, causing her to blush even more. "I suppose I could sing a song of the sea," she said tentatively.
"A song of the sea!" echoed Eomer, and a second round of cheers arose.
Satisfied that the harp was tuned, Lothiriel began to sing:
"In Belfalas Bay there sat on the shore A young girl who mourned for her love who's no more The pride of his manhood is the prize of the sea And the seagulls still follow on freedom
She reached out her hand to an old man passed by And she lifted her head with a tear in her eye Said, 'Sit and I'll tell you a tale of some woe While the seagulls still follow on freedom'
'I come from Dol Amroth, upon the mainland And there's many's a thing here that I don't understand Like why these young men are still slaves to the sea When the seagulls still follow on freedom'
He said to this young maid, as he held her small hand 'The sea and its fury are part of this land And them who can't take it had better not stay With the seagulls who follow on freedom'
'Those men who quote figures and count the cause lost They see on the high seas and the lives it has cost They don't see the life as we know it to be Like the seagulls who follow on freedom'
'So they cheat us and they rob us and continue to say That our only salvation is leaving the bay But I'll soon be ninety and there's one thing I know That the seagulls still follow on freedom.'"
When she finished, the people clapped appreciatively and resumed their drinking. Lothiriel handed the harp back to the bard who immediately began a reel. Eomer passed her another mug of ale, took her free hand, and led her outside where a cool breeze blew. "You could've told me I'd be singing for everyone," she muttered.
"And ruin the surprise? Nay, Lothiriel, the look on your face was far too priceless. Consider it my revenge, if you will."
"Revenge for what?"
He shrugged. "Stealing my horse, running away, the usual...." Lothiriel snorted.
"Fine," she said. "You've had your revenge. It's good that we can both sleep peacefully."
"Not yet, Lothiriel."
She looked at him. "What do you mean, 'Not yet'?"
"You haven't danced with me yet." He grinned down at her scowl.
"I've hardly drunk enough. I'm only on my fourth mug! In Rivendell, I could hold ten or more goblets of cordial before swaggering off to bed. Granted, those things are much smaller than these barrels--" she indicated the mug she held "--but that stuff's just as strong if not moreso. Nay, I shall have to have at least one more ale before I can dance properly."
"Another ale for the lady, then!" exclaimed Eomer. "I shall have a dance with you tonight even if I must wait until dawn to have it!"
A/N (again): i hope this makes up for the extremely short chapter preceding it. up next, a dance, a drunk, and a midnight confession.
there's some foreshadowing in this chapter...i'll be interested to see who catches it before you meet Him........
**disclaimer** if i owned any of this, i would be putting it together in a book and having it published and making millions from the money you would pay for it. as it is, i don't even own the songs. 'the seagulls still follow on freedom' is a sea chanty, and 'i once loved a lass' is a folk song. i modified 'seagulls' to fit within the geography of middle earth.
Chapter X
April, T.A. 3021
The night after the travelers arrived in Edoras, a feast was held. The Rohirrim passed tankards around freely, singing bawdy songs. Lothiriel had never seen anything like it, not even in the pubs that dotted the wharfs of Dol Amroth. She told Eomer as much, and he laughed. "Welcome to Meduseld, Lothiriel, where your tankard will never be empty!" He grinned and added, "But how does a princess such as yourself know of the goings-on in the seaside taverns?"
Lothiriel smiled. "You forget, Eomer, that I grew up alongside five men: my three brothers and two cousins. There were no girls in my family. My only female companion in Dol Amroth was Mista, and her da owns the finest tavern and inn this side of Bree!" With that, she drained her tankard in one long gulp and refilled it.
"That does not explain how you know of the wharf-side pubs."
"Doesn't it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "I'll tell you then. Before I was sent to Rivendell, Mista and I followed Amrothos, my brother, whenever he snuck out of the palace. He always went to the same place: the Laughing Bards Tavern. He was sweet on a girl there, though now he is married to Nimrodel of Edhellond and has two children I have yet to meet." She fell silent, sipping her ale.
Eomer saw that her fair mood was darkening, so he said, "My lady, would you care to dance?"
She looked at him gravely. "Eomer, I can barely walk without tripping; how do you expect me to dance? You'd have to get me far more drunk than I already am."
"Care for some more ale?" He grinned at her.
"Why, yes, I do!" She allowed him to refill her mug, talking all the while. "Your songs are not so different from ours. I recognized the one about the man whose lover marries another. 'Tis a sad song no matter who sings it."
"Yes. We call it 'I Once Loved a Lass.' I think it traveled south from Anorien in the days of the Two Kingdoms. Our people have sung it for many generations." He glanced at her. "Are you ready to dance?"
Lothiriel laughed. "You really want me to make a fool of myself, don't you?" Eomer nodded. She emptied her tankard a third time, saying, "I'll not dance for you yet, but perhaps I will sing you a song."
"A song!" cried Eomer. He stood, silencing the hall. "My friends, Lady Lothiriel has offered to sing a song for us. What say you to that?" Cheers arose from the crowded hall as Lothiriel blushed deeply.
"You did not tell me I'd have to sing it for everyone," she whispered as she took a harp from a near-by bard.
"You didn't ask." He grinned impishly. "Now what will you sing for us?"
Lothiriel sat thoughtfully for a moment, tuning the harp. The entire hall watched her intently, causing her to blush even more. "I suppose I could sing a song of the sea," she said tentatively.
"A song of the sea!" echoed Eomer, and a second round of cheers arose.
Satisfied that the harp was tuned, Lothiriel began to sing:
"In Belfalas Bay there sat on the shore A young girl who mourned for her love who's no more The pride of his manhood is the prize of the sea And the seagulls still follow on freedom
She reached out her hand to an old man passed by And she lifted her head with a tear in her eye Said, 'Sit and I'll tell you a tale of some woe While the seagulls still follow on freedom'
'I come from Dol Amroth, upon the mainland And there's many's a thing here that I don't understand Like why these young men are still slaves to the sea When the seagulls still follow on freedom'
He said to this young maid, as he held her small hand 'The sea and its fury are part of this land And them who can't take it had better not stay With the seagulls who follow on freedom'
'Those men who quote figures and count the cause lost They see on the high seas and the lives it has cost They don't see the life as we know it to be Like the seagulls who follow on freedom'
'So they cheat us and they rob us and continue to say That our only salvation is leaving the bay But I'll soon be ninety and there's one thing I know That the seagulls still follow on freedom.'"
When she finished, the people clapped appreciatively and resumed their drinking. Lothiriel handed the harp back to the bard who immediately began a reel. Eomer passed her another mug of ale, took her free hand, and led her outside where a cool breeze blew. "You could've told me I'd be singing for everyone," she muttered.
"And ruin the surprise? Nay, Lothiriel, the look on your face was far too priceless. Consider it my revenge, if you will."
"Revenge for what?"
He shrugged. "Stealing my horse, running away, the usual...." Lothiriel snorted.
"Fine," she said. "You've had your revenge. It's good that we can both sleep peacefully."
"Not yet, Lothiriel."
She looked at him. "What do you mean, 'Not yet'?"
"You haven't danced with me yet." He grinned down at her scowl.
"I've hardly drunk enough. I'm only on my fourth mug! In Rivendell, I could hold ten or more goblets of cordial before swaggering off to bed. Granted, those things are much smaller than these barrels--" she indicated the mug she held "--but that stuff's just as strong if not moreso. Nay, I shall have to have at least one more ale before I can dance properly."
"Another ale for the lady, then!" exclaimed Eomer. "I shall have a dance with you tonight even if I must wait until dawn to have it!"
A/N (again): i hope this makes up for the extremely short chapter preceding it. up next, a dance, a drunk, and a midnight confession.