::disclaimer:: i only own the plot idea and aela. the other characters mentioned (with the exception of erulehton) all belong to the tolkien estate. they don't know that i've used them, so please don't alert the authorities.
The darkness surrounded her as she gazed out at the plains toward the east, where her kin were dying. Lothíriel clutched her green cloak more tightly around her neck as a chill wind blew her hair back. Her father and brothers had left for Minas Tirith days before, answering the summons of her uncle. The beacons were lit; all of Gondor came to the aid of the White City. With luck, the soldiers would arrive before the legions of Haradrim and orks. Maybe a handful would survive the onslaught and return to their homes to sound the alarm that the Dark Lord's minions were coming. Erchirion had said their only hope for survival was for Rohan to come to their aid.
Rohan. Lothíriel turned her eyes to the north. She could not see the mountains that separated the two countries, but she knew they were there, serving as yet another barrier between herself and her beloved. She wondered how Éomer fared, if he was well, if he was even still alive. She knew that his homeland was being torn apart; rumors had come of the wizard's betrayal. She wondered if he would come to Gondor's aid even if his uncle did not. Would his love for her override that of his homeland? Would he fight for Gondor to prove his worth to her family? She hoped it was so, yet she knew deep in her heart that he could never willingly leave his own family, his countrymen behind. It would be the deepest insult to his honor and his pride to submit to any ruler but his king, even if it meant that he could never marry the one he loved.
She turned back to the east. The clouds were darker there, though surely it was nearing dawn. But dawn had not come fully for several days, and the people had lived in darkness and fear. Lothíriel did what she could to be strong for them, but it was near impossible when she did not know the fates of all whom she loved. Every man she had ever loved was gone to fight: her father, the proud Prince of Dol Amroth; her brothers, the strong warriors; Erulehton, who offered his aid to the navy; and Éomer, who had battled the orks of Mordor even before she knew him. She did not know how any of them fared, though she was certain that if they were victorious, the darkness would be swept away.
"Lothíriel, have you not slept this night?" It was Aela who came from behind her.
"Nay, my friend. I am sick with worry."
"They are safe, I promise you. If it were not so, we would know." The younger woman came to stand beside the princess. The unspoken knowledge that their deaths meant the fall of Gondor hung between them.
"It is so dark," Lothíriel said at last.
"Aye."
She wrapped her cloak tighter around her body. "It is a chill wind that blows our way. It smells of death."
"You should not dwell on the darkness so much, Lothíriel," Aela admonished. "You shall catch ill from it."
The princess laughed ruefully. "It is far too late for that. I caught ill from it long before the shadow showed itself. I caught ill from it when Faramir sent word that Boromir was traveling north."
"And if you are not careful, you shall truly fall sick from it. Now come inside, you need your rest. The people need your strength."
Lothíriel sighed. "How I wish I could draw my strength from someone as they do me. I cannot rest, Aela. My nights are sleepless from worry."
"You fear for more than your brothers, do you not?"
"I have had no word of him since the letter that came last springtide. I do not know if he is even alive, let alone well."
"What do you believe?" whispered Aela.
"What do I believe?" she repeated. "I believe that the times are dark, and they shall become darker ere I see him again."
"Then you shall be reunited?"
"Yes," Lothíriel answered, "but when, where? They are the questions that tax me the most. Will it be here, when the darkness is overthrown, or will it be in the time after, when the dark lord has taken us all to our deaths?"
"Lothíriel, do not speak such, for to say that the dark lord is come is to make it so. You must have faith in your beloved. He will come for you, he will come for you."
"Oh, Aela, you make it sound so definite!" Lothíriel turned away from the balcony's edge and leaned against it. "I only wish I could have your faith. But I falter as the darkness grows. It would take my very life away were I to give it lenience."
"Then step inside with me, Lothíriel, and we shall start a warm fire to frighten the darkness away. It cannot take any more than what it already has taken from us. Come inside, and when the dawn returns, we shall embrace the bright sun." Aela took her arm and began to lead her inside.
As she walked inside the door, Lothíriel turned one last time to the east and saw a sight she had not believed would ever come again. A ray of sunlight broke through the darkness, shining brightly in the east. "Aela, look!" she cried. "The sun! A beacon! Hope has come at last!" But at that same moment, a chill wind blew, like the last breath of some deadly dark creature. Lothíriel froze. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she knew that, somewhere, someone was in agony.
"What was that?" whispered Aela as she came to stand by the princess again.
"I do not know," she answered. "Perhaps it was the fall of something evil, though I feel as if someone is in pain."
"I feel it as well, but look, the day comes at last. There is perhaps some hope in the world yet. But now we must go to our duties."
"I know it, but I think I may stay here for a moment more. You go, and I shall follow soon." Aela nodded once and went inside.
Lothíriel turned again to the east. The light was spreading, though it did not breach the entirety of the darkness. There was still a stretch of the shadow in the distance. But her eyes were not on that. She faced the direction of Minas Tirith and smiled. She knew he was there. Only one thing could have driven away the darkness so suddenly: Rohan had come at last.
A/N: no, this is not my alternate ending. consider it a brief diversion. this is part of what happens between my projected story line and the epilogue. just let me know if you like it and if you'd like to see more of this sort of stuff. btw, the last sentence is from my second-favorite passage in rotk (the best part being where eomer goes crazy and they all shout for death)...the part where the horns of rohan answer...well, i'll just quote it for you: "And as if in answer, there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin's sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last."