Summer crept by in Dol Amroth much as it always had. The sun came warmer and the flowers grew scattered all across the sea grass. And yet a feeling had settled over the small Oceanside kingdom that hadn't for quite some time. A sense that they were on the edge of the world, and soon may be pushed clean off. .
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"All those memories,
Pain and Anger
Flood back one by one..."
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Beads of sweat formed on her face and neck, falling on her bare arms as she swung the heavy sword around and around. It was August, and any sane young lady would be within the cool stone halls. But Lothiriel didn't want to be inside, not when her aunt was pale in her wandering and murmurings of 'The Doom of Finduilas' followed behind her. Nor did Lothy wish to be out riding, where the shadow could see her. And so she retreated to her courtyard and to her sword that would probably never be put to use.
Finduilas. Hers was a name not said often, and never within Prince Imrahil's hearing. If such happened, his eyes would glaze over and his face go stony, and a harsh voice would give reprimand. Finduilas. The ocean flower left to wilt on Gondor's stone towers. She who had died of the darkness cold and alone in her fear in Minas Tirith. It was widely known that while loyal to him, Imrahil had little love for King Denethor as a human being. Though the truth was it was the cloud in the East that had killed the Princess of Dol Amroth, not her husband who knew little of how to love his wife.
But Lothy didn't think on it. Nor did she think on the fact that Lindenna was with child. Lindenna, who was only a few years older then herself. Who's husband was the son of the Prince who was ready to go to war if need be. No, Princess Lothiriel did not think on these things.
She thought only of the way a blade was meant to feel in one's hands, of how even in the winter it was said that battlefields could grow hot. She didn't mind the sweat that dampened her dark hair, all she wanted to see was her balance improve, her grip remain steady. Perhaps she would never be allowed to go to war, but maybe someday...maybe someday she would find herself forced to defend her home.
Her sword fell as she gasped for breath, the heat making her dizzy. Like it or not, she had better get indoors. To pretend she was stronger then the heat was foolishness. But then, maybe it all was.
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The night air was sweet. The lanterns hung from the overhangs of halls and balconies, swaying in the soft breeze. The night seemed so blue, the stars so bright, it was easy to forget any troubles. Sitting on the grassy dunes Lothiriel wrapped her arms around her knees against the slight cool of night, watching the waves, and then the sea that reflected the moon. Her sea. Her waves.
"Heard the grand news?" Edemer asked, grinning as he sat beside her. Lothiriel smiled softly, "You mean about Lindenna?" She shut her eyes as the breeze came up again, "Yes. Wonderful, isn't it?"
"It is." He shook his head, his hair falling in his face, "I can't wait. With a father like Imrahir and an uncle like me, the lad will be brought up right."
Lothiriel had to laugh, the sound carrying over the dunes. "Just watch, she'll have a girl and you'll be falling all over yourselves." Edemer grinned again, "But of course."
The quiet came again, the only sound the waves and the grass in the wind.
"I know what you're thinking." Edemer said softly. Lothiriel just smiled. He always did. Just like their father...
"I'll be 18 next month, Edemer." She said simply, resting her chin on her knees. Edemer nodded, "You've got some time ahead of you yet before you become a spinster." He pulled one of her long curls. "You know, I've heard it whispered about that Feldred has his sights set on you."
"Feldred?!" Lothiriel blinked, "Captain Endrin's stableman?" Edemer snickered, and Lothiriel gave him an irritated shove. "A fine joke brother." She hissed as he kept laughing. "A 60 year old man who smells of horses. Just fine."
"Well, you do have a thing for smelling of horses yourself." He reminded her with a wink. She stuck out her tongue at him. Then had to chuckle. Again, they looked to the night.
"Your time will come, Lothy." He said softly, putting an arm around her. She wasn't sure why tears were forming, but they were. Maybe it was that she was worried for the boy who was a man next to her. Maybe it was that she was worried for the future.
Or maybe it was the simple fact that the night was blue, the breeze was sweet, the sea was glassy, the lanterns dancing like sprites...and she had no love to share it with.
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