Author's Note: Are you getting sleepy yet? Hehehe. Man, I didn't realize how many bloody chapters this would turn out to be! Almost done! Sort of...
"Will You..."
Eomer returned to his rooms, refreshed and giddy as a schoolboy. He was in love, and he was not afraid to admit it. Never could he have imagined that life could be so beautiful. And Lothiriel, despite her many faults in the eyes of others, was nothing short of perfect to him.
Eomer sat down and pulled out an object he began looking at more often as of late. The ring was made of beautifully crafted mithril—a thin band with the design of horses running around it, all in painstaking detail. The dark green emerald jewel, surrounded by diamonds, glittered around the entire room, though the only thing casting light in the room was the flickering of a dim candle. Long had the queens of Rohan worn the ring. Eomer had come into inheritance of it not long before the Rohirrim marched off to war.
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"Eomer, my boy," Theoden King called to his nephew. "Come."
"Yes, my uncle and Lord King of the land I love," Eomer bowed.
"Eomer, we do not stand on ceremony now. For the time is near, I can feel it." Eomer began to get up, but Theoden stopped him. "No. Let me finish. You know the customs of Rohan. You know of the ring, the symbol of Rohan, that is worn only by the Queen of the Riddermark. Long has it sat, unworn, in my chambers. I want you to have it. Keep it safe. And when you find her, give it to her, and I shall approve your choice, whether I have breath or not."
"Uncle," Eomer protested, as Theoden placed the heirloom into his hands. "I do not feel worthy of such honour," he said, as he bowed.
"You bow to none, Eomer. For years have you been like a son to me, as Eowyn has been my daughter, a jewel in my eye for these many years. Take care of her. Make sure she is well loved, forever. Do not fail me in this, my son," Theoden said, as he also handed Eomer a piece of paper. "A copy of my last living will and testament, naming you as King of the Riddermark, should I fall in battle."
Eomer stared, shocked. Never before had he ever thought of his role as that of king. Many times, all he saw himself as was the leader of Rohan's riders, nothing more. Here, he felt enormous responsibility, and with it, loyalty. He could not let his uncle down, not in a million years.
"My son," Theoden rested his arm on Eomer's shoulder. "You were born to be a leader. The people love you. Take your rightful place, when the time comes." And with that, Theoden turned and left Eomer to his musings and thoughts.
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The ring sparkled in the candlelight. Eomer sighed and put it back into its delicately carved box before he hid it in a desk drawer and went to bed, dreaming of the dark-haired, grey-blue-eyed Amrothian princess in the room down the hall.
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When Eomer rose the next morning, he found that Lothiriel and Faramir had breakfasted before the others and went off on a ride to Ithilien. Faramir had business, and Lothiriel wanted fresh air.
"Lothiriel! Be careful! If ever you were to fall, your father would have my head!" Faramir warned, as Lothiriel maneuvered her horse up a steep cliff.
"Faramir, you worry too much," Lothiriel laughed, as she beat her cousin to the top of the landing. "There! Is this not worth the ride! You can see over the entire country of Gondor!" she dismounted and surveyed the beautiful panorama that surrounded them.
"It's beautiful," Faramir agreed, and surveyed the lands surrounding his home.
"'Tis perfect," Lothiriel said, as she sighed.
"Would you ever want to leave this place?" Faramir asked, knowing full well that at this point in time, it was a rather heavy question indeed.
"I have been here for all my life. I have known no other outside the carefully guarded walls of Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith. However, perhaps it would not be so bad to view the other areas of the world?" she asked, timidly.
"Cousin, you know it is only a matter of time before you must leave us and make your own way into the world," Faramir began, but then stopped short, deciding to be blunt. "Do you love him? Could you be happy forever with him?" Faramir asked. "Happy enough to leave your father and brothers and especially your favourite cousin behind?" he asked, smile on his face.
Lothiriel thought for a moment, but only for a short one. "Yes," she said with rising certainty in her voice. "I can. I know I can. I love him enough to leave all those I love more than anything in this world behind."
"You know that once you leave the protection of the walls that Gondor has to offer, you also leave behind your old life. You must be leader to a people you have not laid eyes on," Faramir warned.
Lothiriel knew she wasn't ready to answer that question just yet. Instead, she opted for a safer route. "Oh stop it! Faramir, really. Eomer King has not asked my father's permission for my hand, nor has he addressed me," she said.
"Oh, but he will, cousin. He will." And with that, Faramir began to lead the way down the cliffs.
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Later that day, Lothiriel decided to go and enjoy the day alone—something she had not been able to do for a long time. She gathered up her bow and arrow and traipsed out of the confines of the palace and to an empty training yard. There, she began her most favourite pastime—target practice.
Lothiriel hit her fourth perfect bulls-eye in a row, letting the movements of shooting an arrow take over her as she executed movements effortlessly.
"Well marked," a quiet voice said, as Lothiriel jumped and missed her mark completely.
"Eomer!" Lothiriel smiled. "I did not expect to see you today at all. Elphir told me you were in council with my father and King Elessar.
"I was," he answered, but then he smiled. "As soon as Faramir came in, I knew you had returned, so I made it a point to look a little bored and antsy. King Elessar took pity on me and dismissed council early," he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"You didn't! You are so full of cheek! However, very little escapes his majesty's notice. I would say that he saw through your little act, but let you go anyway," she giggled.
"Suppose. What does it matter? I'm here now," he smiled, as he held out his hand to her. "Will you grace me with your presence during a walk around the gardens?" he asked.
"Of course. I should love to," she smiled, as she took his arm.
As the two walked in the gardens, Eomer's free hand fingered the ring in his pocket. Finally, he worked up enough nerve to ask her. He stopped her, right as the duo reached the shade of a large tree.
"May I ask you something?" Eomer asked, trying not to appear anxious or nervous.
"Of course, my lord. Ask anything and I shall answer to the best of my ability," Lothiriel said earnestly and smiled at him.
He took that as encouragement enough and began. "Will you..."
"Eomer! Lothiriel! Where are you? Lothiriel? Your father wishes to speak to you!" Eowyn said, as she rambled through the gardens searching for them. Eomer cursed under his breath, then turned to the princess.
"I think you had better go," he urged gently, and watched her follow Eowyn back to the palace.