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Hers was a face she remembered well. So pale, and yet so
beautiful...She was looking out over the ocean in the early summer
morning, pulling riding gloves over her slim hands. One more ride along
the dunes...
'Are you sure?' A voice was asking, and Lethemine looked up, and smiled.
'I've never been more sure about anything, brother.' She replied, and Imrahil smiled, sadly.
'I'll miss you so...' He admitted. Lethemine reached to embrace him.
'I'll be...just fine, Imrahil.' She assured him, in her quiet, yet strong way. 'I have to go with him.'
'I know you care for him Lethemine...'
'I
love him.' She said stoutly, pulling away, and looking her brother in
the eye. But there was no hardness in her eyes, as there was on her
face. 'To stay would only break my heart...would you want that?'
'Never.' Imrahil forced a smile. Lethemine's sparkling grin returned. 'Will...you not at least let there be a royal wedding?'
'Nay...'
she shook her head, her long curls swaying, 'It's not his way, nor
mine. We marry tonight, quietly, and tomorrow we will be gone.'
Imrahil
nodded. He looked at her, smiling true. 'You are stronger then I, my
Lethemine.' She smiled back, and embraced him again...
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"Why have you stayed behind?"
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Lothiriel's eyes opened slowly. This had not been a nightmare. She had slept well for the first time in weeks...but why had she seen...?
The voice. She sat up, looking about. The sun had not yet risen. The voice had been her father's, but she started to wonder if it had only been wishful imaginings. Lothiriel sighed, remembering the afternoon before...
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The men had been gathered, all mounted proudly in their fine, gleaming armor before The Halls. Edemer had come out to stand by her as they waited for Imrahil to come and bid them go. In his armor, Edemer breathed hard.
"Here." Imrahir was at his side, loosening the ties of his cousin's chest piece a bit. "Your lungs can't hold if you squeeze 'em in like the rest of us." Edemer gave a frustrated sigh, but nodded.
"You'll look out for yourself, won't you?" Lothiriel looked at her brother, and his face softened. He reached over and hugged her, and even she had to chuckle at being held through metal.
"Eh, I've been fine here, I'll be fine there." He pulled back, smirking. "I promise, Lothy." He reached out and ruffled her hair, as if she were still 10 years old. She tried to feel better, even as his bright blue eyes were so assured.
She embraced her cousin tightly, before Lindenna had him. His bride was trying her best to look brave even as she was eight months with his child, and he went to war. And then Imrahil was there, his face set for battle, calling his men to mount. Lothiriel held Lindenna's hand as the men started off, Imrahil's head held high, his son at his right with the blue standard of the Seaside Halls, his nephew riding at his left, with the standard of Rohan. The sun gleamed on their armor, the wind caught their banners, and Lothiriel had never been so proud...or so scared.
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"Why have you stayed behind?"
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The voice came again, now, as she was awake. Lothiriel started, looking about. Slowly, she left her bed, gazing out at the dark sky...why had she stayed behind?
"Because they go to battle." She whispered, "No place for a woman..." Her eyes fell on her sword, which lay on the day bed.
She remembered the dream, the sky of blood red clouds, the fields teeming with orcs, the burnt out city...her father's eyes at seeing it. Lothiriel picked up her blade in its sheath, beginning to understand that dream. Why had she stayed behind...when he had all but asked her to defend her homeland? "Both of my homelands." She whispered, her eyes going from soft...to determined. She hurried to dress in the grey light before dawn...
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"A cold wind blows right through me,
I'm made a hollow shell
There's nothing left, just ash remains; enrich the soil, no soil, no soil...
Close call there in the shadows
There's an end to the dark
'Cause there's someone out there
Someone like me..."
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All was quiet outside, the sky pale and the air chilly. Lothiriel blew
on her hands as she saddled Bela, who seemed to be a bit perturbed at
the early wake up call. She did not hear the soft footsteps on the
balcony above.
"I was starting to wonder when you'd be leaving." Lothiriel looked up, startled. Deliann was above her, leaning on the rail.
"You knew I'd go?"
"Yes." Deliann gave a weak smile. "For all of your protests at your family going, I knew that if they did, you would be there."
"Why, Aunt?" Lothiriel asked, swallowing, "Why am I going? It feels like the right thing to do but...why?"
Deliann
paused for a moment, smiling softly. "You promised your mother you'd
keep an eye on her men, didn't you?" Lothiriel nodded, slowly. "Well,
go on then. For your mother's promise and your father's country."
Lothiriel
looked at the water. She was right. She'd never stopped being the woman
of the house, even when she'd come to live the life of a princess. And
she'd always looked after Edemer. Ever since she'd pulled him from an
icy river and all but carried him to their borders. She looked up at
her aunt in the grey light of dawn.
"You don't mind my leaving?"
"Lindenna and I can hold down the fort." Deliann smiled. "Go on now, you've got a lot of riding to do to catch up."
With a deep breath of the cold air, Lothiriel mounted, adjusted her cloak, and urged Bela forward, to the East...
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'I love you.'
The words always made her heart leap into
her throat. From her spot, lying in the grass, Lethemine turned her
head to look at him. A smile spread over her face, slowly. Eodier was
grinning at her, propped up on his elbow. He plucked a thistle flower
from the long blades around them, and tucked it into her dark curls.
'And I you.' She murmured, looking back at the sky above, as her
fingers playing with her hair. He had been so happy these days, so
different then when she'd first met him a month before. He smiled so
much more. Ever since she'd let him kiss her goodnight one evening
after dinner, things had been so...sweet. So right-feeling.
'Rather like fate, wouldn't you say?' She whispered.
'Fate?'
Eodier looked down at her curiously. Lethemine turned her pondering,
luminous gaze on him. 'Would we have met if you'd never come here?'
He
sighed, touching the flower in her hair. 'Would I have come here if my
father had not died?' He smirked again. 'No, I wouldn't have,
Lethemine.' She smiled.
'I told you...there is always a reason.'
Eodier leaned over her then, brushing at her hair with his worn hands.
'You're the only one I'd listen to it from.' He smiled, kissing her
softly. Lethemine wrapped her slim arms around him. Always a reason...
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The cold had nearly frozen her eyelids shut, or so it felt. Lothiriel woke slowly...then hurried to look at the dark sky. She'd only slept an hour. She let out a relieved breath. There was little time to spare; she'd only meant to rest for a short while. She had to hurry to catch up to the men.
Mounting Bela again, she felt a small smile tug at her lips. She'd hardly any memories of her mother, even fewer of her and her father together. It made her happy.
The wind blew. Lothiriel's smile faded, and she bit her lip. Always a reason...a reason for what? She shivered, and hurried Bela along.
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Edemer shook his head, to keep from drifting off to sleep. It was his turn at watch, and he yawned in the chilly darkness of the camp. The Fire was little more then embers, but he really wished to be curled up sleeping near its warmth. Through the darkness, something reached his ears, and with a start he looked around. The sound came again...a horse's cry. Edemer grabbed his sword and hurried into the night, as the camp began to rouse at the sound as well.
Lothiriel could see the lights of their fires ahead, and she grinned, urging Bela on faster, almost too late, she saw him in the dark, and reined Bela in with a gasp. The horse reared, nearly giving Edemer a nasty kick as she did. As it was, he did lose his footing in the dark, and stumbled.
"Edemer!" Lothiriel cried. The young man coughed, then scrambling up quickly, his eyes went wide.
"Lothy?!" He blinked. "How...what in the bloody name of Mordor are you doing here?!"
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Imrahil did not look pleased. Lothiriel stared at her feet as she stood in his tent, Edemer and Imrahir not too far behind her. The Prince of The Seaside Halls was giving his niece a hard glare, but, though not disrespectful, Lothiriel refused to give any sign of remorse. "I'm surprised at you, Lothiriel." Imrahil finally spoke. "Had you been the older and they the younger, I would have expected such a stunt from your brother and cousin." Edemer and Imrahir both glanced at each other with a small grin. Imrahil's glare made their smiles fall quickly though. "You've always been the sensible one. What of this?"
Lothiriel looked up, her jaw set resolutely. She had never truly been at odds with her uncle, but she had seen enough of those who were. Imrahil was never unjust, but he had a way of speaking to those he found at fault that made them wonder why they ever wanted to protest at all. It was the proud way of the Sea Folk. Lothiriel had to prove her will as strong as his. The way of the Rohirrim.
"This seemed sensible as well." She could see Imrahil calculating her, behind his eyes. She resisted the urge to bite her lip. "If you felt so, why did you not tell me before we departed from the Halls?"
"Forgive me for that much, Uncle." She said evenly, "But the thought had not come to me then."
Imrahil's shoulders relaxed a bit. Though still wary, Lothiriel relaxed a bit as well. "I don't understand, Lothiriel." He sighed. "For so long, you have hated the very mention of war."
"And I still do." She lifted her chin a bit. "But I can no longer ignore it, Uncle." She gazed at him evenly. "For many nights, my father has spoken to me, in my dreams." Lothiriel could hear Edemer's sharp intake of breath, "He has spoken to me of Gondor, and...and of Rohan. He has spoken to me of my family, of my roots...and of his deep love for it all. And now that I no longer can ignore it, pretend it is not there Uncle..." She gulped, "The spirit that is left is one that wants to fight for these things as well. To fight for my family...your family, and my father's." She blinked back a tear, but kept her stance tall, proud. Imrahil looked at her for a long moment. Then let out a long breath.
"Well...I suppose it will be worth the look on that Denethor's face." He sighed, "When he sees I let a woman march at my side."
A slow grin spread over Lothiriel's face.
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At the next morning's light, Lothiriel was already dressed, and putting on the silvery armor Imrahil had given her...the armor of her Aunt's. "Deliann rarely raised a sword alongside me..." He had said, "But in younger days, she did so love to ride with the host...I always take her things along...just in case."
Although relieved not to have to wear men's armor, Lothiriel wasn't exactly all that comfortable. 'Gondorian women have always been a bit slighter then you.' She reminded herself with a huff, as she loosened the ties under her arms a bit. She was definitely much...fuller then Deliann had ever been. She pulled her cloak over her shoulders then, her hand brushing the crest on the chest of her breast-piece. It was the seal of Deliann's maiden name, a wheat stack bound in a field. But Lothiriel fancied that if one looked the right way, it rather resembled a thistle blossom.
"I don't know if I want you to go." She turned at Edemer's statement. From his horse, her older brother was chewing his bottom lip, looking at her with a worried eye. She grinned. "I'll be just fine, Edemer." She assured him, mounting Bela stiffly. "I can hold my own. Besides, half the army has seen just as much combat as I have."
"You make a good point." Edemer had to grin as well. "Just...promise me you'll let me keep an eye on you?"
"Only if you let me keep one on you as well." She reined her mare beside his. He nodded.
"As you wish, my lady." He replied, in a tone that said he was bracing himself...but trying to sound at ease. The host rode on.
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They kept at a swift pace, the hooves thundering over the late winter tundra. Lothiriel worked to keep her spirit strong, even as they were riding toward the great blackness in the East. The scouts who rode ahead would return, speaking of an army of thousands making for Minas Tirith. Thousands! Lothiriel found herself praying to whoever may hear for the strength, and for the power, to take it all on.
The journey did not take very long...not long enough, Lothiriel thought.... and soon, they could see Ecthellion before them, and a blackness on the far horizon as well. Imrahil motioned his men to take strict formation, and Lothiriel he brought to ride at his left flank, Imrahir his right.
"Uncle, why do you give me this position?" She asked, as the city came closer and closer. Neither she nor Edemer had ever flanked him...that position was for his children, or his highest captains. Imrahil did not turn to her when he spoke.
"Lothiriel, here I will have it known that you are my daughter." He told her, "There are those who would show a woman who was doing what you are some of the lowest forms of disrespect." He grunted, "Were you even known as my niece...Men of these mountains are too arrogant to see that as high enough nobility. And sadly, your mother is no longer recognized royalty. If known as my daughter, it will go better for you."
"I can handle any man who treads too far." She snorted, but Imrahil shook his head.
"I don't doubt it, but I would not see your name tarnished, which it would be nonetheless." He said, and she sighed.
"Well, all right then, Uncle...father." She smirked, "I guess it doesn't change too much." And with that, she was able to have a smile on her face...even as they passed through the gates of The White City...
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