The double-line thingy didn't work in the last chapter, I don't know why. I'll try again next time the characters travel.

Chapter 23 : Visitors in Dol Amroth

"I don't know how long I've had… feelings… for Éomer, but I suppose it must have been quite a long time," Lothíriel began, slowly and shyly.

"I knew there had to be a reason for all those letters," Amrothos declared.

"Don't interrupt her, she's telling a good story," Erchirion chided.

Everyone at the table listened eagerly as Lothíriel shyly related everything that she wanted to tell them. It was difficult finding the right words to express herself, but she managed, and when she finished, the table was silent, the food almost forgotten (except for Isindil, who had not heard anything new, and had not forgotten his hunger).

Finally Erchirion began to chuckle. "Well, all I can say is that Éomer's had a frightfully good winter while we lounged around Dol Amroth, bored out of our minds!" he said.

"Most unfair," Amrothos agreed.

"If only I could have found a lovely girl to spend my winter with." Even Elphir could not hold back from teasing.

"Incredible that you even came home!" Imrahil added with a laugh.

"Stop, all of you!" Lothíriel moaned. "Isindil, stop them!"

Isindil looked up from his stew. "You're the royal family. Who am I to be stopping anyone, princess?"

"Not princess!" Erchirion exclaimed. "Queen!"

Lothíriel blushed, and looked down at her stew. "Nothing's been said about that."

"Good, otherwise you haven't been telling us everything. And now, I think I shall attend to my food. I need my strength. Perhaps I could find a nice girl to spend the spring with, since I missed my chance in the winter. The chance that Éomer seized." With that, Amrothos fell to his stew with great enthusiasm.

Elphir and Erchirion expressed similar sentiments, and the table was quiet once more, everyone (for that moment) devoted to their dinner.

Lothíriel got out of bed, and pulled her cloak around her shoulders, over her plain nightdress, and walked out to the balcony of her room. Her father really doted upon her, and had made sure that she had a room looking out to sea, knowing how much she loved it.

The moon illuminated the crests of the waves subtly, and the steady sounds of splashing water was hypnotising. The white foam the waves created was seen at regular intervals, and all in all, that night the sea conveyed a feeling of absolute peace and stability. Lothíriel closed her eyes, allowing herself to be lulled by the sounds she heard, and calmed by the breeze she felt, sweeping out from the land to the sea. In her mind, she drew the image of Éomer close to her, closer and closer, until it felt like he was there with her, with his arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm. Then she called for the memory of her mother. One by one, she added everyone she loved into the environment around her, smiling at the memories that flashed past. She marvelled at how fortunate she was, how wonderful her life was. How she had been saved time and again from troubles and problems, and how splendidly she would live her life in the years to come.

She had not made herself return to bed, or felt herself walking across the floor, but her last memory before falling asleep was the warmth of her blankets, the softness of her bed, and the memory of all her loved ones watching over her as she fell asleep.

The next morning, after breakfast, Imrahil said to his daughter, "Lothíriel, may I speak with you?"

Lothíriel nodded obediently, and followed her father into his study. "What is it, Father?"

"You are sure of what you are doing? You, and the King of the Mark?"

Lothíriel laughed. "Father, you know Éomer, I thought you'd be glad…"

"I am glad. But it doesn't matter how glad I am, if you don't know what you're doing, and get yourself hurt. Éomer's a good man, I've said so myself. But the affairs of the heart are never easy, and sometimes your emotions can play tricks on you. And so I want you to be sure."

Lothíriel held her father's gaze confidently, and steadily. "Father, I am certain of what I'm doing." She smiled. "With him, I feel so safe. He'd never let anyone or anything hurt me. I know I can trust him for always. And he feels the same. Father, we know what we're doing."

Imrahil nodded. "Well, then my worries are eased." He smiled, and kissed his daughter's forehead. "You are so much like your mother, Lothíriel, and I am so proud of you."

Two months later…

"Lothíriel! Lothíriel!" A frightful thumping was heard on her bedroom door, and Lothíriel flew to get it.

It was Amrothos, grinning from ear to ear. Automatically, Lothíriel leaned out to see if Erchirion was anywhere in sight, and if they had some prank to play on her. She noticed Erchirion hurrying down the corridor. "What is it?" she asked with a frown. "You were making such a din!"

"That's because something happen that would require the enthusiasm of a din," Erchirion explained, panting for breath as he came to a halt next to his brother.

"What's that?"

"A travelling party has been sighted. A most grand-looking travelling party," Amrothos said, raising an eyebrow and giving Lothíriel a significant look.

"It's probably someone here to see Father. What does it have to do with me?"

Erchirion, looking at Amrothos, shook his head. "She doesn't understand." He turned back to her. "It's a royal travelling party. From Rohan."

A gasp escaped Lothíriel's lips, and she pushed her brothers aside to rush out to meet them. She was halfway along the hallway when she stopped and ran back, pushing past her brothers again to enter her room. Stopping in front of the mirror, she adjusted her dress, hastily brushed her hair, and then ran out again.

"She's gone mad," Amrothos said, gaping after her.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have broken it to her so suddenly," Erchirion suggested.

"I agree, brother."

Lothíriel ran all the way down the steps and through all the people who had gathered to see the travellers coming in. Seeing their princess, they stepped aside immediately to let her pass, wondering where she was off to in such a hurry. She saw the travellers riding in through the gate, and saw the man riding at their head stop his horse, and dismount.

"Éomer!"

His hair was matted from his travelling, and, true to his nature, he did not seem to have bothered much about getting it neat and tidy. Travelling in times of peace, he was not wearing his armour, but was wearing his favourite green cloak and a broad smile, as he saw her coming towards him, and caught her in his arms. "It's so good to hold you again," he murmured into her hair.

"You sent no messenger, gave no notice that you were coming."

He pulled back and touched her face. "I wanted to surprise you. Éothain's in charge of things in Rohan for now. I'm here to see your father."

Lothíriel's face fell. "Not to see me?"

Éomer grinned at her. "That's why I've come to see your father."

Imrahil, and his sons, were waiting for Éomer and Lothíriel, and Éomer was greeted most warmly, while his men were shown to rooms and given food and drink. "You must be weary from your travelling," Imrahil said. "Hariel will show you to your room." He gestured to a young slip of a girl, who immediately bobbed a curtsy. Then he smiled at his daughter. "Lothíriel, perhaps you would like to accompany them?"

Lothíriel nodded, and Erchirion remarked, "Don't stay too long, mind." And fell to sniggering with Amrothos as Éomer turned a most embarrassing shade of red.

Lothíriel smacked her brother on the arm. "Keep your nonsense to yourself, Erchirion," she warned. Then she took Éomer's hand, and they both followed Hariel.