DISCLAIMER: The names, places, things are Tolkien's. I think we can all figure out what is who's.

AN: reviews= greatness. thanks so much guys!! I'm glad you like it, hehe =]

Chapter 3: Overcoming Challenges

The hall in the citadel chosen for the feast on the eve of Faramir and Eowyn's wedding was beautifully decorated. Everything was simple yet elegant, with banners hanging from every pillar, baring both Rohirric and Gondorian colors. The light from the torches that hung gave the hall a warm glow, and tinted everything a golden color. Small bouquets of white flowers were pinned to where streamers of fine colored cloth met end-to-end, and the petals that fell on the ground only added a more charming affect to the decor of the occasion. The tables had been removed, as the festivities had already begun, and the guests were laughing and dancing merrily to the music that played.

Lothiriel walked amongst the people on the sides of the dance floor, hearing them chatter and gossip as she passed. She noticed one woman had turned and pointed Lothiriel out to her contemporaries, whispering as she did so. Lothiriel only turned away, embarrassed, not sure whether or not they had discussed her leaving the city gates or the fact that she had yelled at a King. She leaned against a pillar next to the exit of the hall that was only inches away. Wanting to make a discreet retreat to her quarters, she took a cup of water from a tray a servant held, sipped lightly, handed the cup to the servant, and turned to make her way out when she heard a voice call to her.

"Not enjoying yourself, sister?" Lothiriel sighed, blinking slowly as she did so, and turned around to smile at her sibling.

"What-ever gave you the impression, brother?" she said in a sarcastically innocent way.

"Come, be a little more caring to the affairs of your cousin. Tis a happy day for him tomorrow, could you not be happy for him as well?" her brother whispered to her in a strained tone. He stood next to her and watched as Faramir joyfully danced with Eowyn in the center of the floor.

"You insult my compassion, Amrothos!" she scolded, giving him a look of disgust.

"Yes, well, from what I hear, it is difficult not to insult you."

"If you are referring to what happened today, I wholeheartedly maintain myself justified throughout the entire situation." Lothiriel proudly crossed her arms and gave her brother a nonchalant look. "King of Rohan? HA! Insufferable man indeed! He had not even the decency to..."

"Lothiriel! I will not have you insult him. He is a good man. I've fought in battle alongside him. Eomer deserves neither your sharp tongue nor your lack of respect. Do not let your pride cloud your better judgment of him."

"I will decide whether or not it is my pride that keeps me from judging him any better than I already have. As for Faramir, I could not be happier for him." At that moment Lothiriel looked to her cousin and his bride to be, as Faramir held Eowyn close to him, sweeping her across the dance floor. She suddenly felt a knot in her stomach, and gazed in a bit of jealously at the two. 'They look so happy,' she thought.

"He has found someone to share his life with. It is a most admirable thing, to see two people hold such high respects for each other, and love each other so dearly. It is truly coveted by many..." It seemed as if she was no longer talking to her brother, but simply speaking her thoughts. She gasped lightly and realized she had been staring at the couple in complete reverie. Amrothos was looking at her, arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. Lothiriel did not give him a chance to speak, and took her leave of him. "Excuse me, Amrothos," she said hastily and exited the hall. When she turned to look ahead of her, as her collision earlier in the day had taught her to do, she was surprised to see Eomer look up at her.

For a minute or so they just stared at each other, wondering what to say to the other, or whether or not they should say anything at all. After a few moments, Lothiriel curtseyed to Eomer in wanting to avoid having to say anything altogether, and passed him to leave, when he called to her.

"Lothiriel." Lothiriel stopped to slowly face the king.

"My lord?"

"My lady. I just wanted to apologize for today. For any true inconvenience I might have caused you. I did not mean to collide with you. And, I wanted to apologize for my angry tone. I realize that it was inappropriate of me, and it was not my intention to have your first impressions of me be ill favored."

Lothiriel felt her heart soften and could see that he sought her forgiveness. Her hardened expression and furrowed eyebrows softened into a look of exasperation and regret. "No, my lord, I owe you a much bigger apology. I suppose I am far too strong willed for my own good. I did not mean to be such a disrespec..." but before Lothiriel could finish she heard a rather loud cheer come from the bottom of the stairs that lay only a few feet ahead of where she and Eomer stood. Eomer had heard it too, for he also turned to look in the direction of the stairs, which seemed to lead to a level below the hall.

Eomer turned back to Lothiriel and spoke, "It must be the servants of the palace. I suppose they are celebrating as well tonight, if they have the time for it I imagine."

Lothiriel grinned as her curiosity got the better of her. "Come, let us see what such a commotion was about." Eomer gave her a puzzling look but before he could answer, Lothiriel pulled him by the hand to follow her as she made her way down the steps. Her eyes lit up as a host of servants crowded around two people sitting across from one another at a small table came into sight at the bottom of the steps. Each person at the table had gulped down a mug of ale, one after the other, slamming the mug on the table as each one finished, and almost instantly the mass cheered. The spectacle was enough for Lothiriel to burst out in laughter, and had any of the servants not been intoxicated with ale they might of taken notice to the Princess and King, and made their respects to each. However, the servants were intoxicated, and took no major notice to the two.

"We must join in!" she said excited, turning to Eomer.

"Are you mad? These are the servants, Princess. Imagine the scandal we would create in joining their festivities. Word might already be out that we are down here, and that in itself is already an act of scandal."

"You worry too much, King. Servants or not, they are people just as we are, and I see no real harm in wanting to enjoy the night in a more lively way. I will drink in my cousin's honor, as you should drink in your sister's. Come now Eomer King! Are you afraid?" Eomer glared at her when she said this, as he had been looking behind him to make sure they were not followed. He studied Lothiriel's features, and wondered how it was possible for her to change, so quickly, her disposition. Her amber dress glowed in the light, and her hair, that was half tied back, seemed to shine in Eomer's eyes. 'I admire her so' he thought to himself, as she smiled at him awaiting his answer.

"Afraid? I assure you, I am nowhere near afraid. It is settled then, I challenge you, Princess, and we will see just how strong a will you have to hold your ale!"

Moments later...

Two monstrous mugs of ale were handed in the direction of the small table, and each one placed in front of the Princess and the King, the competitors at the moment. The look on Lothiriel's face was priceless. It was a mix of anxiety, excitement, doubt, and what little courage she could muster up to try and hide her worry. Eomer had been in drinking contests before, though in Rohan the rules were slightly different. Nonetheless, ale was ale, and drinking it to a person's maximum capacity was enough similarity he needed to be neither worried nor fearful of losing.

However, Eomer could not deny the fact that a part of him was worried, but he could not understand why. He worried for the Princess, who meekly sat across from him, eyeing the mug of ale she was so set on finishing. 'Does she not feel uncomfortable to be amongst men? Especially to be in my presence, after having offended her as bad as I did. Does she trust me enough to place her well-being in my hands? It could not be possible, we hardly know each other, and yet she looks so comfortable in this atmosphere. But isn't this the same woman whose anger earlier in the day had resembled Mount Doom? And only moments ago she looked upon my face with a gentle smile. I thought she hated me, and yet here she is in a friendly competition with me. It seems the only thing troubling her now is the mug that she hadn't imagined to be so large. She is most peculiar...' Eomer thought to himself. The King was undoubtedly intrigued, and could not help but want to find out more about her.

"Alright my Lords...um, I beg your pardon, my Lord and Lady. The rules are simple, one man... um or woman, must take a drink and his... or her, opponent must match that drink. If the opponent matches the drink, then you move on to repeat the process in a second round. However, the number of drinks in each round increases as you move on. So in the second round, the challenger must take 2 drinks, and the opponent must match it. The third round, 3 drinks, the fourth, 4 and so on. Though, I must warn you players, it is rather difficult to exceed four rounds," the servant told them, smiling in amusement as he did so.

Lothiriel and Eomer nodded, then looked to each other. Eomer raised an eyebrow at her, and mouthed the words "are you sure?" to her, and she only nodded to confirm that she was all right. Eomer complied, knowing in his heart that this was wrong for both of them to do. Imrahil would be disappointed, his sister amused, and Faramir only shocked. Not to mention the fact that he and Lothiriel risked embarrassment in Elessar's and Arwen's own home, though he knew Aragorn would thoroughly enjoy the site of his friend in a drinking contest, maybe even cheer him on. However, the ladies and lords of the court would shutter at the thought, and would spat at such a display. 'I could not say no to those eyes...' he thought to himself, and that was enough justification for him for the moment.

"BEGIN!!" a servant cried, and the host of servants quickly cheered them on. The Princess raised her glass to the King, and all went quiet as she lifted the mug to her lips and tilted her head back to gradually empty the mug. When it was finished, she slammed the mug on the table and lightly burped. A look of surprise swept across her face and she blushed, as the crowd both laughed and cheered; Lothiriel laughing along with them. Eomer chuckled lightly as well, watching, as men would pat her on the back to congratulate her.

"My Lord," she called to Eomer, bowing her head slightly to indicate that it was his turn.

"My Lady," he replied, lifting his glass to her and finishing the ale within seconds. The men cheered wildly. Some began to make bets as to who would win, and Eomer only laughed humbly as men were patting his back to show their support in him. He looked at Lothiriel, as two more monstrous mugs were brought to each of them, and she seemed determined to not let the ale affect her so badly that she would lose the contest. Eomer admired her courage, sighing, wondering just how long this contest would last.

thanks again for all the reviews! they rock. hopefully the chapters aren't terribly boring. I have a lot planned for this story, I just have to gradually get there. hehe. don't forget to review!! =]