Chapter 2 : The First Meeting
"We'll be in Edoras tomorrow. What do you think?" Imrahil smiled at his daughter, hoping that she would be happy at finally reaching their destination.
"Fantastic," she said simply, frowning off into the distance.
Imrahil wrinkled his brow. He wondered what had happened with his daughter. Suddenly she had become so sullen, obviously unhappy at having to make this journey. What was it that had come over her? "What's wrong, Lothíriel? You've been looking so unhappy these days."
"Nothing's wrong, Father," she replied. "Come, let us move on, and perhaps we could reach Edoras sooner."
Lothíriel's temper was simmering, boiling up inside her. She simply could not believe that her father wanted to marry her off, but she had heard it with her own ears; he had said that he would be pleased if she would marry Éomer! She found it incredibly insulting that she was seen as nothing more but a tool to establish good relations between Dol Amroth and Rohan, and that her father would use her in such a way.
Already she did not have a good picture of Éomer in her mind. She imagined him rather short and plump, a jovial young man who would much rather have wine, women and song than fight for his country. No matter what her father said, she believed that he had survived the wars due to good luck more than valour or courage.
Isindil rode up next to her, glancing at her occasionally. No doubt he was wondering what was wrong with her as well. She had no intention of answering any of his questions, if he had any. He was in it too, he and her father. They would push her towards Éomer, just a piece on the board. She deliberately did not look over to him, did not acknowledge his presence.
They covered a great distance that day, and the night was passed in a satisfied silence. Lothíriel stayed in her tent, not wanting to speak with anyone. It crossed her mind that she was behaving like a spoilt, petty child, but she thought of her father and his plans, and the anger began to boil in her again, and so she made no effort to correct her own behaviour.
The next morning, they looked upon Edoras. Imrahil came to ride beside his daughter, and looked over at her worriedly. "Here we are, my daughter. I know you are not the best of moods, but please, try to be nice when you meet the king," he said.
So he will agree to marry me? Lothíriel thought scathingly, but she said nothing, only nodded her head. Imrahil nodded back, satisfied, and the party rode into Edoras.
Faramir was standing at the entrance of the Golden Hall, a huge smile on his face. Seeing him made Lothíriel smile despite herself, and feel a little better about coming to Rohan. He has changed that much, after all, she thought to herself. And he looks so happy.
"Welcome, my dear uncle," he said as he and Imrahil embraced. "It is good to see you again so soon." Then his gaze fell onto Lothíriel, and his smile widened. "Lothíriel! It's been such a long time. My, you really have changed!"
Lothíriel laughed. "I was twelve when you last saw me, Faramir, of course I have changed. You look much the same, though."
Faramir nodded seriously. "It's what happens when you get old," he said, winking. "Well, I'm so glad you've come. Éowyn and Éomer will be out in a moment to meet you. They're very pleased that you have arrived."
As if on cue, the doors of the Golden Hall opened, and out came a beautiful lady, moving with much grace. Behind her followed a young man, but Lothíriel dismissed him as a guard, so fixed in her mind was the image of a fat little man.
From the look in Faramir's eyes, Lothíriel knew at once that the lady was Éowyn, and gave her a warm smile. Éowyn looked nice, and it wasn't her fault that Lothíriel was going to be treated with so little respect. Éowyn returned the smile, and said, "Welcome to Edoras once more, Prince Imrahil. And this must be your daughter, Lothíriel." She stepped forward and took Lothíriel's hands. "I am so glad to meet you. Faramir was so looking forward to seeing you again."
Lothíriel bowed her head. "It is my pleasure to meet you, Lady Éowyn. Faramir is lucky to be marrying you."
Éowyn was obviously very pleased to hear this, and so was Faramir, from the delighted look he shot his cousin.
Then the young man who had appeared with Éowyn came to her, after speaking with her father. "Welcome to Edoras, my lady. I am Éomer, King of the Mark. It is wonderful to be meeting you, after hearing everything you father has said about you."
Lothíriel stared up at him for a moment, a little shocked. Her image of Éomer obviously had been completely inaccurate, and she had not expected this handsome young man to be the King of the Mark. Then she shook herself, and forced a smile. "Thank you, my Lord, you are most kind." Looking at him, she wondered if he had any idea of what her father was planning to do. She was already determined not to like him. She would not let her father have his way that easily.
That evening, Lothíriel stood alone in a corner of the Golden Hall, watching the merry scene before her. People were dancing to the joyful, upbeat music, and the hall was noisy with everyone's laughter and the different conversations that went on. She watched as her father made his way to join her.
"Why are you standing here all by yourself?" he asked with a smile. "Come, you should be enjoying yourself. Not only is it your cousin's wedding day, it's also your birthday!"
Lothíriel gave him a little smile. "I am enjoying myself. I just don't feel like making aimless conversation with people I don't know, and Faramir looks so happy dancing with Éowyn there."
"Well, it wouldn't do if you just spent the whole night talking to an old man like me," Imrahil joked. "Look, Éomer is over there. Perhaps you could speak with him? He is such a gentleman, I'm sure you'll enjoy his company."
Lothíriel felt her temper rising again at that remark. "That's all right, Father, I will speak with someone when I feel the need to," she said, perhaps a little more sharply than she wanted to. "Don't you worry about me."
Imrahil gave her a look, then nodded and went back to join the others. Lothíriel continued her sulking in her corner.
"Are you having a good time?" someone asked from beside her.
Lothíriel jumped. Caught up in her own thoughts, she had not noticed that Éomer had come to stand beside her. He gave her a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry if I startled you…"
"No, not at all," she said coolly. "It was time someone woke up from my thoughts, anyway."
He nodded towards the dancing couples. "Faramir and Éowyn definitely seem to be enjoying themselves. Are you?"
"I'm all right."
"Just 'all right'?" Éomer smiled and offered Lothíriel his hand. "Perhaps I could help with that. Would you like to dance?"
Lothíriel eyed his hand, a debate raging inside her. Father might take it as a good sign if I danced with him, and before I know it, it'd be my wedding! But Éomer is a nice person after all, and I don't really want to offend him…
She took his hand.