Chapter 25 : The Perfect Proposal
"If you want to really make sure she agrees," Amrothos began, "you must make sure that it is the most memorable experience of her life."
"And with us as brothers, I can assure you that Lothíriel has seen a lot," Erchirion said, nodding thoughtfully.
Éomer had never been brought up to slump in his seat, but he slumped now. He really did not think that taking the advice of the two royal troublemakers of the city was a good idea, especially when it was such an important thing they were dealing with. "Actually," he said, "I think I can really handle this by myself…"
Erchirion waved his hand. "You want to impress her, don't you?"
"Yes, but…"
"Then you really need to know what she likes and what she wants and what she expects."
"And we know her very, very well," Amrothos said meaningfully. "We can help!"
"But…"
"We already have a good plan. Trust us, it'll be just wonderful, and she'll never say no."
Lothíriel ran the brush through her hair idly, lost in thought. She wondered why Éomer had not come to spend much time with her. He seemed to be spending plenty of time with Erchirion and Amrothos, and she wanted to know why. Perhaps they were up to one of their tricks again, and she should seek him out and warn him. Who knows what the two of them could be plotting?
There was a knock on her door. Thinking that it would be Éomer, Lothíriel smiled and called, "Come in."
Erchirion slipped into the room. "Hello, sister. Combing your hair? What a lovely activity," he said smoothly.
Lothíriel narrowed her eyes. "What is it? What do you want?"
Erchirion smiled sweetly, the very picture of innocence. "Nothing, sister, but I just ran into Éomer, and he said that he wanted to meet you, and I volunteered to get you for him."
Lothíriel frowned. "Why couldn't he just come here? He knows that my room is open to him."
Erchirion rolled is eyes. "This is special, my silly sister. He's planned something very special for you, and you really don't want to keep him waiting and fretting, do you?"
Despite having made up her mind never to trust Erchirion, Lothíriel began to get interested. Éomer has something special for me? I wonder what it is. She stood up, and smiled back at her brother. "Very well, then." She flashed him a warning glance. "But if this is a trick, I'm going to kill you."
Erchirion held up his hands defensively. "I'm innocent, sister! Come, we shouldn't keep him waiting. I have a feeling it's something really special."
Lothíriel walked beside Erchirion, down the hallway, where they met Amrothos, who simply fell into step cheerfully. "I saw Éomer too," he said, "and I think you'll love what he has for you."
Lothíriel blushed. "What is it?" she asked, curious.
Erchirion shook his head. "Nope, you'll just have to wait! We're not going to spoil his lovely surprise, he worked so hard on it."
She nodded, but continued to wonder what it was that Éomer had had in store for her. No doubt it was something she would love; she loved everything that came from Éomer, but what could it be? And she also began to wonder where her brothers were taking her… they definitely weren't leaving the building…
"Here we are!" Amrothos announced.
Lothíriel stared at the door before her. "But this is the…"
"Supply room," Erchirion finished. The door was yanked open with amazing speed, and Lothíriel tossed in most unceremoniously. The door was slammed shut and the lock turned with a click before she stood up.
She gave a cry of frustration and kicked the door violently. She had been locked in this room before, many years ago, and knew for a fact that trying to dismantle the door did not work here. "Erchirion! Amrothos! Let me out this instance!" she yelled, but there was no reply.
She sat down next to the door, crossed her arms, uncrossed them, and rested her head on her knees. There was nothing to do until the two of them decided to let her out again. But when they did come back, she would make them pay.
"Now, we'll unlock you in an hour, all right?" Amrothos said, waving the key in front of Éomer's face. "You have plenty of time to ask her, so don't worry and for the love of the Valar, do not say anything wrong."
"Dismantling the door doesn't work for this room, so don't try, all right?" Erchirion said. He shoved a little bunch of flowers into Éomer's hand. "Offer her these, she'll like it."
Éomer eyed the wilting flowers. "How long ago did you…"
"Never mind that," Amrothos said hastily. "You just go in and do your best, all right?"
Éomer swallowed and nodded. He still thought that he could have come up with something without the help of the two brothers, but they had just refused to take no for an answer, and at times they could be very persuasive. Well, let this work!
He made his way to the door, the brothers hurrying behind him. Amrothos gave him a reassuring grin and unlocked the door. Éomer took a deep breath and stepped in.
The door slammed shut and a white light flashed before his eyes, blinding him. His hands automatically flew to his face, and the flowers fell to the ground lifelessly. "OW!" he yelped in pain, his face still in his hands.
"Éomer!" Lothíriel came to his side, still holding the candlestick. "Oh my goodness, I'm so, so sorry, I thought you were one of my brothers… and I wanted to get them back for what they had done to me… oh my goodness… I'm sorry! Are you hurt?"
Éomer spoke through his hands, his voice muffled. "I think you might have broken my nose…" He winced as he ran his fingers over it. "No, wait, it's all right. I just don't want to see what colour it is."
Lothíriel, her eyes much more adjusted to the darkness of the room, led him to a corner of the room, and they sat down on the ground. Éomer looked forlornly at the flowers on the floor, a little trampled, as in his shock, he had trod on a few. "Those flowers are certainly dead now."
Lothíriel laughed, squeezing his arm. "So, my brothers got you too?"
Éomer rubbed his nose. "No, actually. You did."
Lothíriel laughed. "I already apologised, Éomer. But… if they didn't get you, why are you in here? You didn't come here of your own accord?"
Éomer hesitated, trying to figure out his answer. "Well… not… really…"
"What is it, Éomer? What do you want to tell me?"
Here goes nothing… "Actually your brothers came up with this idea to help me," Éomer began. Then he hesitated again.
"Help you? How on earth does the two of us being locked up in the supply room help you?"
"They said that it has to be memorable and special for you…"
"What? What has to be special?"
Just do it, Éomer told himself. Otherwise, you'll lose your nerve, and you'll regret it. "This." He cleared his throat. "Lothíriel… will… will you… will you marry me?"
He heard a gasp, then Lothíriel said, "Don't you trick me like my brothers, or I'll hit you again."
He took her hands and held them tightly. In the dimness of the room, he looked into her eyes, and said seriously, "I'm not tricking you, Lothíriel. I asked for your father's permission, and now I am asking you to please, please consider becoming the Queen of Rohan, and my wife."
Lothíriel said nothing for a while, and Éomer was beginning to steel himself for a rejection, when he saw her smile, and felt her squeeze his hand. "What is there to consider?" she said softly. "My heart was yours, is yours, and will always be yours."
It was as if a dam had been broken, and the river released. Happiness and relief crashed down into Éomer's heart as a huge smile spread across his face. Pulling Lothíriel to him, he kissed her, pouring all the joy into her. Life is perfect, he thought.
When the two brothers returned an hour later, they found a supply room lighted with candles, a radiant, smiling future queen, and a king with a rather purple nose.
I'm not exactly sure if they had supply rooms, but I assume they did. I mean, where else do you keep all the stuff? And anyway, a supply room sounded much better than a cleaning room. Also, it seemed more dignified for Éomer to get hit with a candlestick than a broomstick. So you see why I chose a supply room.