Swordplay and Sonnets
Eomer woke that day, refreshed from the massive amount of sleep he had gotten that night. He lay in bed, as he sighed, satisfied that he had finally sorted out his thoughts. Indeed, he was glad for his talk with Eowyn yesterday, although he owed her an apology for being so cross. She did not deserve his ire, she only meant well, and he had acted the fool. He dressed in his leather armor/riding outfit and headed downstairs for some breakfast, determined to win the Princess of Dol Amroth once and for all. After all, once he set his mind to something, he did not falter in getting it.
"Lothiriel, I would simply like to point out that you are going to get beaten not once, not twice, but thrice today!" Erchirion gloated as he watched Lothiriel perk up from her meal.
"Shove off! You will be crawling on the floor for mercy from the shame of losing to an outnumbered girl."
"I would think it would be an honour either way, young princes, should you best your sister or not, for was it not your training that enables her to fight so well?" Elessar asked.
"Nay, my lord. It was my cousin Faramir who first taught me how to fight."
"Aaah, yes. Well, the Steward of Gondor is the best swordsman in Gondor! I am sure he has taught you well." Elessar chuckled, as his Steward turned deep red, and bowed to him in thanks of the compliment.
Eomer strode into the breakfast hall, catching the tidbit of banter occurring between Gondor's most noble parsonages.
"Eomer! It's a lucky thing you've come down just in time!"
"Just in time for what?" Lord Imrahil asked, as he walked toward the group.
"Those three numbskulls think they can best me with their swords. So, they have challenged me. All three of them. At the same time," Lothiriel said smugly.
"Boys! How many times must I tell you not to cross your sister so!" their father sighed.
"When is this battle to take place?" Eomer asked.
"Directly after breakfast. His Majesty has even cancelled today's council meetings, when the Queen and the Steward both expressed deep wishes to view the event," Elphir answered. "Are you coming?"
"I suppose I shall," Eomer answered.
"And whose side shall you be on?" Lothiriel asked, as Eowyn looked on amused.
"That, princess, I shall not answer," Eomer answered diplomatically, already having decided in his head to side with the princess. After all, he was trying to woo her, but was completely at a loss as to how to go about it. Still, he saw fit to add a wink after his statement, and she blushed.
"Well, well! If we are all done chatting like old women, let's have at it!" Amrothos said, as he rose from his meal. Everyone followed suit, walking to the courtyard to watch the great battle.
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"You little scamp!" Amrothos yelled, as Lothiriel knocked his sword out of his hand, then turned swiftly to block a blow from Elphir.
"You deserved it!" she yelled back, as she fended off an attack from Erchirion.
Eomer watched the match with King Elessar, Prince Imrahil, and Faramir.
"She holds the sword as if she were born with it in her hand!" Eomer said, impressed.
"I have taught my little protégé well, have I not?" Faramir looked on, as Lothiriel dodged a blow from Amrothos, then held her sword to his throat.
"I have got you! Admit defeat!" Lothiriel demanded, as she used the sword she knocked from Amrothos' hands to fend off her other two attackers.
"Defeat admitted," Amrothos said, bowing humbly, as he left the playing field and returned to the center of the large crowd.
"Amrothos, I warned you," Faramir laughed, as he clapped the crestfallen man on the back. "I taught her. She's good. Don't doubt her ability."
"I do not know why you foolishly goad her on like that," Eomer chuckled. "I would never even attempt such a thing with Eowyn. I know she will best me, even with one hand behind her back."
"That I do not doubt," Faramir chuckled, as he turned to kiss his wife, who smartly chose to remain silent.
Thirty minutes later, both other siblings admitted defeat, and Lothiriel walked back, four swords in her hands, and a smirk on her face.
"I told you not to even attempt it. 'Tis a pity that now the whole country of Gondor knows your weaknesses!" she jested.
"Ha ha," Elphir laughed sarcastically. "We let you beat us. How else would you have won so easily?"
"Are you saying that if I were to challenge you tomorrow, you would win?" she glared at him.
"Ummm," Elphir gulped.
Eowyn laughed. "That was an excellent bit of swordwork ,dear Lothiriel. However, I doubt you could repeat such a feat against a Rider of Rohan."
Eomer turned his head, aware of what his sister was about to do. Still, he could not bring the words to his mouth to stop her.
"I know their skill. I have seen the Rohirrim in battle, and they are skilled beyond belief. Still, the same could be said about Gondorian soldiers, and I do believe I have just beat three of them," she stuck out her tongue at her glum brothers.
"Perhaps you would like to test your skill on the morrow," Eowyn started.
Faramir cut in. "I don't know, dearest. You know I do not doubt your own excellent ability, but Lothiriel is perhaps the best swordswoman in Gondor."
"Nonsense. If she is so good, she will have no problem beating a seasoned Rohirric warrior!" Eowyn laughed. She turned to Eomer. "Perhaps you, my dear brother, would like to defend the honour of your country?"
Eomer gulped, as Lothiriel turned on him with a smile. "Your majesty, I would be honoured at such an esteemed swordsman as yourself as a sparring mate."
Eomer, caught in a trap, saw no way out. "Of course, Lady Lothiriel. Perhaps we should fight tomorrow afternoon, so you may regain your strength."
"No," she smiled wickedly, as she threw him Elphir's sword. "Now." With that, she walked onto the field.
The crowd had begun to disperse, but stood still when they sighted their beloved princess walking back onto the field, with none other than the King of Rohan in tow!
"This should be interesting," Elessar mused, as the pair entered fighting stance.
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Lothiriel and Eomer engaged in swordplay. What Lothiriel lacked in strength, she made up for in speed and finesse.
"You are very comfortable with a sword, my lady," Eomer said, as he mock bowed before raising his sword to block a blow.
"Indeed, majesty. However you yourself do not lack in skill with a sword," Lothiriel complimented back, as she turned swiftly to execute a blow to Eomer, then swiftly dodged one of his own."
"You are holding back?" Lothiriel asked, as Eomer narrowly avoided making contact with Lothiriel's blade.
"Why would you think that?"
"Because if you were truly fighting with all that you had, I should not be close to cutting you. Come, do not disappoint me. I want no concessions made for the fact that I am a woman," she smirked.
"As you wish, my lady," as he quickly began to execute a complicated and swift set of movements.
Eomer was surprised when Lothiriel blocked them all with ease, then turned to execute her own set of blows.
"Now it is I that must question why you were holding back?" Eomer said, panting from the exertion.
"I would not have you claim that you were holding back, when I beat you. I want to win, fair and square!" Lothiriel said, as suddenly, she brought her sword to his neck.
She was about to claim triumph, when she found her own neck graced with the touch of a cold metal blade.
"A draw!" Faramir cried, disappointed. After all, she was his most skilled student. "Nobody has ever come that close to beating her before!"
"Well, then. Eowyn smirked, as the group headed toward the couple, "I suppose she has met her match." The others laughed, as they came to the spot where Lothiriel and Eomer stood.
"Well, well. An excellent bit of swordplay, and most impressive on both your parts," Elessar stated, as he magnanimously offered Lothiriel his arm. "Now, now. He will not strike you whilst you were in my company," Aragorn joked, when he noticed that Lothiriel did not free herself from her position.
Lothiriel relaxed, and brought down her sword, as Eomer did the same.
"I thank you for the honour of allowing me to spar with you. You are a most worth opponent," Eomer said. Remembering his sister's words the other day, he took her hands in his, in front of the whole kingdom of Gondor to see, and kissed her lips tenderly and lightly, before handing her off to Elessar, to be escorted back to her rooms.
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Lothiriel sat in her room, her head spinning. He had kissed her! In front of everyone! What in the world does that mean? she asked. Does he truly wish to court me? Still, she could not deny the fact that he had done it publicly, and in the manner that one of royal blood announces his intention to court a lady of noble birth.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" she called, as a servant came in and curtseyed.
"Begging your pardon, my lady, but his majesty, the King of Rohan requests that you accompany him for a walk through the gardens before the evening meal," she said.
"Tell him I shall be down, shortly," Lothiriel commanded, as the servant curtsied again and left.
Lothiriel turned to her closet, not sure of what to wear. Finally, she decided on a delicate gown of white, intricately decorated with stunning beadwork. Her mother's favourite gown. She slipped it on, grabbed a cloak of deep blue, and headed off to the gardens in search of Eomer.
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He paced amongst the rows and rows of beautiful flowers growing in the most beautiful garden of Minas Tirith. What if she doesn't come? Did I make a mistake? he wondered, as he paced some more. Suddenly, a twig snapped in near proximity, and he turned to face his intruder.
"Good evening, my lord," Lothiriel bowed. Eomer stood there, breathless. She was beautiful.
"My lady," Eomer took her hand and kissed it. "You look beautiful," he murmured.
Lothiriel and Eomer were both at a loss as of what to say next. Neither knew how to verbalize what happened earlier that afternoon. Eomer claimed responsibility for his action, and communicated in the only means he knew how. He gently held her face in his hand, and leaned in, slowly, gauging her reaction. He was relieved when she did not back away, but lean closer in encouragement. He kissed her lightly and pulled away, but was surprised when he again felt her lips on his own. Finally, the couple separated.
"My lady, I..." Eomer began, not really sure what to say.
Lothiriel interrupted him. "Please," she whispered, as she took his hand in hers, "call me Lothiriel."
With that, the two circled round the beautiful gardens, hand-in-hand, enjoying each other's company immensely.
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Unbeknownst to the couple, a little crowd stood on one of the balconies of the great palace, watching the couple walk.
"So you see? What did I tell you? All they both needed was a little bit of encouragement." Eowyn watched the couple, as she enjoyed the embrace of her husband.
"And what encouragement did you offer, my love?" he said, as he kissed the top of her head.
"A few words of wisdom from one stubborn child to another," she answered simply, as they were joined by Lord Imrahil, the three young princes, and King and Queen of Gondor themselves.
"What are we gazing on so intently?" King Elessar asked, having a sneaking suspicion that the Steward and his wife were doing some discreet act or another.
Neither responded, but merely nodded to the couple in the garden.
"Is that Eomer? With our sister?" Elphir asked, getting a little antsy. "I do believe that boy needs some talking to. King or not, nobody takes such liberties with the Princess of Dol Amroth!" His brothers nodded their assent, and were about to go down to interrupt the tender moment, when Lord Imrahil's booming voice stopped them.
"Yes, it is true. Nobody takes liberties with my daughter. But I suppose when one has gained consent from her only father to court the girl, I suppose that none is amiss," he chuckled, as the princes stared at him, open-mouthed. "Do not think we could have had her here with us forever," Lord Imrahil chided them. "Besides, he was so earnest in his application this afternoon, that I could not refuse him."
"I..." "We..." "Well..." the three began, not sure what to say at this surprising turn of events.
"Oh calm down. Besides, if you were to go down there now, I am sure that Lothiriel would run you down with her sword. Might I remind you, although I do believe this afternoon's display was enough, that she can hold her own quite well?" Faramir teased, as the three boys turned bright red at the reminder of being beaten by their baby sister.
"Fine. He may have won over you and father, but he has yet to go through us," Elphir warned, as the three boys stalked off, in search of more sympathetic company.
"They seem very attached to her," Queen Arwen began, "and their protectiveness of her is most admirable."
"Yes, yes. But it is high time that Lothiriel was married. As much as I hate to say it myself," Lord Imrahil answered.
"Yes, yes. I suppose that she has kept the princely trio busy to fend of her non-stop entourage of suitors!" Faramir chuckled, as he remembered some of the more memorable pranks the three pulled on a few choice Lords of Gondor.
"It is a miracle that Gondor has any eligible young lords left, what with the Princes of Dol Amroth chasing them down with swords," Elessar commented, and the group chuckled. "They seem a very...how do I put this?...lively bunch of young men."
"Aaah, and now we get down to my ulterior motive. I trust Lothiriel's judgement, for she errs but rarely. On the other hand, with her out of the way, the boys will have no excuse for their behaviour and will perhaps settle down themselves," he sighed, at a loss of what to do with his three prankster sons.
Faramir snorted. "Highly unlikely," he said, and the group laughed, as they headed downstairs to take the evening meal.
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Eomer sat down next to Lothiriel on a bench, then stood up again, a little nervous. In his pocket, he fingered a well-worn piece of paper.
"Have you ever heard any Rohirric sonnets?" he asked of her.
"Rohirric sonnets? I thought the Rohirrim put their lore to songs, not to the written word," she said, confused.
"Well, that is what I meant. It's simply that I cannot sing, so I prefer to think of them as sonnets, rather than as songs," he smiled.
Lothiriel chuckled. "Let me guess. My father has told you all about how those old and morose Lords of Gondor used to stand outside my window at night and read me sonnets."
Eomer looked guilty, as he blushed a light shade of red.
Lothiriel smiled, then continued. "I do appreciate the effort, Eomer. I will not deny that I love a good sonnet, or in this case Rohirric song, now and then. However, that is not what my heart desires. Besides, I much prefer a swordfight to a sonnet," she smiled, as she took his hand in hers and brought him back to the bench.
"Then what do you desire?" Eomer asked, his voice low.
Lothiriel smiled at him, then kissed him tenderly. She looked into his eyes. "You," she said, and she stood up and led him back to the Great Hall to eat.
Eomer walked back with her, feeling like he was on top of the world.
Eomer woke that day, refreshed from the massive amount of sleep he had gotten that night. He lay in bed, as he sighed, satisfied that he had finally sorted out his thoughts. Indeed, he was glad for his talk with Eowyn yesterday, although he owed her an apology for being so cross. She did not deserve his ire, she only meant well, and he had acted the fool. He dressed in his leather armor/riding outfit and headed downstairs for some breakfast, determined to win the Princess of Dol Amroth once and for all. After all, once he set his mind to something, he did not falter in getting it.
"Lothiriel, I would simply like to point out that you are going to get beaten not once, not twice, but thrice today!" Erchirion gloated as he watched Lothiriel perk up from her meal.
"Shove off! You will be crawling on the floor for mercy from the shame of losing to an outnumbered girl."
"I would think it would be an honour either way, young princes, should you best your sister or not, for was it not your training that enables her to fight so well?" Elessar asked.
"Nay, my lord. It was my cousin Faramir who first taught me how to fight."
"Aaah, yes. Well, the Steward of Gondor is the best swordsman in Gondor! I am sure he has taught you well." Elessar chuckled, as his Steward turned deep red, and bowed to him in thanks of the compliment.
Eomer strode into the breakfast hall, catching the tidbit of banter occurring between Gondor's most noble parsonages.
"Eomer! It's a lucky thing you've come down just in time!"
"Just in time for what?" Lord Imrahil asked, as he walked toward the group.
"Those three numbskulls think they can best me with their swords. So, they have challenged me. All three of them. At the same time," Lothiriel said smugly.
"Boys! How many times must I tell you not to cross your sister so!" their father sighed.
"When is this battle to take place?" Eomer asked.
"Directly after breakfast. His Majesty has even cancelled today's council meetings, when the Queen and the Steward both expressed deep wishes to view the event," Elphir answered. "Are you coming?"
"I suppose I shall," Eomer answered.
"And whose side shall you be on?" Lothiriel asked, as Eowyn looked on amused.
"That, princess, I shall not answer," Eomer answered diplomatically, already having decided in his head to side with the princess. After all, he was trying to woo her, but was completely at a loss as to how to go about it. Still, he saw fit to add a wink after his statement, and she blushed.
"Well, well! If we are all done chatting like old women, let's have at it!" Amrothos said, as he rose from his meal. Everyone followed suit, walking to the courtyard to watch the great battle.
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"You little scamp!" Amrothos yelled, as Lothiriel knocked his sword out of his hand, then turned swiftly to block a blow from Elphir.
"You deserved it!" she yelled back, as she fended off an attack from Erchirion.
Eomer watched the match with King Elessar, Prince Imrahil, and Faramir.
"She holds the sword as if she were born with it in her hand!" Eomer said, impressed.
"I have taught my little protégé well, have I not?" Faramir looked on, as Lothiriel dodged a blow from Amrothos, then held her sword to his throat.
"I have got you! Admit defeat!" Lothiriel demanded, as she used the sword she knocked from Amrothos' hands to fend off her other two attackers.
"Defeat admitted," Amrothos said, bowing humbly, as he left the playing field and returned to the center of the large crowd.
"Amrothos, I warned you," Faramir laughed, as he clapped the crestfallen man on the back. "I taught her. She's good. Don't doubt her ability."
"I do not know why you foolishly goad her on like that," Eomer chuckled. "I would never even attempt such a thing with Eowyn. I know she will best me, even with one hand behind her back."
"That I do not doubt," Faramir chuckled, as he turned to kiss his wife, who smartly chose to remain silent.
Thirty minutes later, both other siblings admitted defeat, and Lothiriel walked back, four swords in her hands, and a smirk on her face.
"I told you not to even attempt it. 'Tis a pity that now the whole country of Gondor knows your weaknesses!" she jested.
"Ha ha," Elphir laughed sarcastically. "We let you beat us. How else would you have won so easily?"
"Are you saying that if I were to challenge you tomorrow, you would win?" she glared at him.
"Ummm," Elphir gulped.
Eowyn laughed. "That was an excellent bit of swordwork ,dear Lothiriel. However, I doubt you could repeat such a feat against a Rider of Rohan."
Eomer turned his head, aware of what his sister was about to do. Still, he could not bring the words to his mouth to stop her.
"I know their skill. I have seen the Rohirrim in battle, and they are skilled beyond belief. Still, the same could be said about Gondorian soldiers, and I do believe I have just beat three of them," she stuck out her tongue at her glum brothers.
"Perhaps you would like to test your skill on the morrow," Eowyn started.
Faramir cut in. "I don't know, dearest. You know I do not doubt your own excellent ability, but Lothiriel is perhaps the best swordswoman in Gondor."
"Nonsense. If she is so good, she will have no problem beating a seasoned Rohirric warrior!" Eowyn laughed. She turned to Eomer. "Perhaps you, my dear brother, would like to defend the honour of your country?"
Eomer gulped, as Lothiriel turned on him with a smile. "Your majesty, I would be honoured at such an esteemed swordsman as yourself as a sparring mate."
Eomer, caught in a trap, saw no way out. "Of course, Lady Lothiriel. Perhaps we should fight tomorrow afternoon, so you may regain your strength."
"No," she smiled wickedly, as she threw him Elphir's sword. "Now." With that, she walked onto the field.
The crowd had begun to disperse, but stood still when they sighted their beloved princess walking back onto the field, with none other than the King of Rohan in tow!
"This should be interesting," Elessar mused, as the pair entered fighting stance.
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Lothiriel and Eomer engaged in swordplay. What Lothiriel lacked in strength, she made up for in speed and finesse.
"You are very comfortable with a sword, my lady," Eomer said, as he mock bowed before raising his sword to block a blow.
"Indeed, majesty. However you yourself do not lack in skill with a sword," Lothiriel complimented back, as she turned swiftly to execute a blow to Eomer, then swiftly dodged one of his own."
"You are holding back?" Lothiriel asked, as Eomer narrowly avoided making contact with Lothiriel's blade.
"Why would you think that?"
"Because if you were truly fighting with all that you had, I should not be close to cutting you. Come, do not disappoint me. I want no concessions made for the fact that I am a woman," she smirked.
"As you wish, my lady," as he quickly began to execute a complicated and swift set of movements.
Eomer was surprised when Lothiriel blocked them all with ease, then turned to execute her own set of blows.
"Now it is I that must question why you were holding back?" Eomer said, panting from the exertion.
"I would not have you claim that you were holding back, when I beat you. I want to win, fair and square!" Lothiriel said, as suddenly, she brought her sword to his neck.
She was about to claim triumph, when she found her own neck graced with the touch of a cold metal blade.
"A draw!" Faramir cried, disappointed. After all, she was his most skilled student. "Nobody has ever come that close to beating her before!"
"Well, then. Eowyn smirked, as the group headed toward the couple, "I suppose she has met her match." The others laughed, as they came to the spot where Lothiriel and Eomer stood.
"Well, well. An excellent bit of swordplay, and most impressive on both your parts," Elessar stated, as he magnanimously offered Lothiriel his arm. "Now, now. He will not strike you whilst you were in my company," Aragorn joked, when he noticed that Lothiriel did not free herself from her position.
Lothiriel relaxed, and brought down her sword, as Eomer did the same.
"I thank you for the honour of allowing me to spar with you. You are a most worth opponent," Eomer said. Remembering his sister's words the other day, he took her hands in his, in front of the whole kingdom of Gondor to see, and kissed her lips tenderly and lightly, before handing her off to Elessar, to be escorted back to her rooms.
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Lothiriel sat in her room, her head spinning. He had kissed her! In front of everyone! What in the world does that mean? she asked. Does he truly wish to court me? Still, she could not deny the fact that he had done it publicly, and in the manner that one of royal blood announces his intention to court a lady of noble birth.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" she called, as a servant came in and curtseyed.
"Begging your pardon, my lady, but his majesty, the King of Rohan requests that you accompany him for a walk through the gardens before the evening meal," she said.
"Tell him I shall be down, shortly," Lothiriel commanded, as the servant curtsied again and left.
Lothiriel turned to her closet, not sure of what to wear. Finally, she decided on a delicate gown of white, intricately decorated with stunning beadwork. Her mother's favourite gown. She slipped it on, grabbed a cloak of deep blue, and headed off to the gardens in search of Eomer.
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He paced amongst the rows and rows of beautiful flowers growing in the most beautiful garden of Minas Tirith. What if she doesn't come? Did I make a mistake? he wondered, as he paced some more. Suddenly, a twig snapped in near proximity, and he turned to face his intruder.
"Good evening, my lord," Lothiriel bowed. Eomer stood there, breathless. She was beautiful.
"My lady," Eomer took her hand and kissed it. "You look beautiful," he murmured.
Lothiriel and Eomer were both at a loss as of what to say next. Neither knew how to verbalize what happened earlier that afternoon. Eomer claimed responsibility for his action, and communicated in the only means he knew how. He gently held her face in his hand, and leaned in, slowly, gauging her reaction. He was relieved when she did not back away, but lean closer in encouragement. He kissed her lightly and pulled away, but was surprised when he again felt her lips on his own. Finally, the couple separated.
"My lady, I..." Eomer began, not really sure what to say.
Lothiriel interrupted him. "Please," she whispered, as she took his hand in hers, "call me Lothiriel."
With that, the two circled round the beautiful gardens, hand-in-hand, enjoying each other's company immensely.
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Unbeknownst to the couple, a little crowd stood on one of the balconies of the great palace, watching the couple walk.
"So you see? What did I tell you? All they both needed was a little bit of encouragement." Eowyn watched the couple, as she enjoyed the embrace of her husband.
"And what encouragement did you offer, my love?" he said, as he kissed the top of her head.
"A few words of wisdom from one stubborn child to another," she answered simply, as they were joined by Lord Imrahil, the three young princes, and King and Queen of Gondor themselves.
"What are we gazing on so intently?" King Elessar asked, having a sneaking suspicion that the Steward and his wife were doing some discreet act or another.
Neither responded, but merely nodded to the couple in the garden.
"Is that Eomer? With our sister?" Elphir asked, getting a little antsy. "I do believe that boy needs some talking to. King or not, nobody takes such liberties with the Princess of Dol Amroth!" His brothers nodded their assent, and were about to go down to interrupt the tender moment, when Lord Imrahil's booming voice stopped them.
"Yes, it is true. Nobody takes liberties with my daughter. But I suppose when one has gained consent from her only father to court the girl, I suppose that none is amiss," he chuckled, as the princes stared at him, open-mouthed. "Do not think we could have had her here with us forever," Lord Imrahil chided them. "Besides, he was so earnest in his application this afternoon, that I could not refuse him."
"I..." "We..." "Well..." the three began, not sure what to say at this surprising turn of events.
"Oh calm down. Besides, if you were to go down there now, I am sure that Lothiriel would run you down with her sword. Might I remind you, although I do believe this afternoon's display was enough, that she can hold her own quite well?" Faramir teased, as the three boys turned bright red at the reminder of being beaten by their baby sister.
"Fine. He may have won over you and father, but he has yet to go through us," Elphir warned, as the three boys stalked off, in search of more sympathetic company.
"They seem very attached to her," Queen Arwen began, "and their protectiveness of her is most admirable."
"Yes, yes. But it is high time that Lothiriel was married. As much as I hate to say it myself," Lord Imrahil answered.
"Yes, yes. I suppose that she has kept the princely trio busy to fend of her non-stop entourage of suitors!" Faramir chuckled, as he remembered some of the more memorable pranks the three pulled on a few choice Lords of Gondor.
"It is a miracle that Gondor has any eligible young lords left, what with the Princes of Dol Amroth chasing them down with swords," Elessar commented, and the group chuckled. "They seem a very...how do I put this?...lively bunch of young men."
"Aaah, and now we get down to my ulterior motive. I trust Lothiriel's judgement, for she errs but rarely. On the other hand, with her out of the way, the boys will have no excuse for their behaviour and will perhaps settle down themselves," he sighed, at a loss of what to do with his three prankster sons.
Faramir snorted. "Highly unlikely," he said, and the group laughed, as they headed downstairs to take the evening meal.
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Eomer sat down next to Lothiriel on a bench, then stood up again, a little nervous. In his pocket, he fingered a well-worn piece of paper.
"Have you ever heard any Rohirric sonnets?" he asked of her.
"Rohirric sonnets? I thought the Rohirrim put their lore to songs, not to the written word," she said, confused.
"Well, that is what I meant. It's simply that I cannot sing, so I prefer to think of them as sonnets, rather than as songs," he smiled.
Lothiriel chuckled. "Let me guess. My father has told you all about how those old and morose Lords of Gondor used to stand outside my window at night and read me sonnets."
Eomer looked guilty, as he blushed a light shade of red.
Lothiriel smiled, then continued. "I do appreciate the effort, Eomer. I will not deny that I love a good sonnet, or in this case Rohirric song, now and then. However, that is not what my heart desires. Besides, I much prefer a swordfight to a sonnet," she smiled, as she took his hand in hers and brought him back to the bench.
"Then what do you desire?" Eomer asked, his voice low.
Lothiriel smiled at him, then kissed him tenderly. She looked into his eyes. "You," she said, and she stood up and led him back to the Great Hall to eat.
Eomer walked back with her, feeling like he was on top of the world.