We always wondered if jkr had met will and fred( my brothers) I mean add magic and change will to george…. And there you go. The Weasley twins! (without the hair and freckles.) also sorry not to get this up sooner we have a dance performance coming up and rehearsals have taken up just about every spare minute meaning I barely have time for sleeping much less homework or fun…. Add yet another French test and I'm swamped. My costume is an absolute confection by the way…

so nothing else….

Except my disclaimer which I think I forgot on the last chapter…. In case you haven't noticed I did not write the lord of the rings so unfortunately I don't own anyone…

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Lothòiel stood once again above the gates of Minas Tirith. She gazed eagerly across the plains, they had had forerunners arrive two days ago to say the army was returning, victorious, with the Ringbearer and his faithful companion. And her brothers.

She had been endlessly bored during her stay in the Houses. Though at first she had spent some time with her cousin, Faramir, she had soon realized that his attention was only for Eowyn, indeed he spoke of nothing else. Elphir was with their father up in the citadel and Dernbrand was guarding the city. In other words she had nothing to do and no one to do it with.

She could see them in the distance: a slight haze of dust on the road from Osgiliath. She was soon joined by several other impatient men and women to welcome the warriors home. The haze soon became distinct figures and Lothòiel was able to pick out her own brothers among them. But who was that with them, he wore a tall white plumed helmet. He was clearly comfortable with them, he was riding easily and suddenly she realized she knew the figure: Éomer, king of Rohan.

Lothiriel wasn't quite sure what to do, before she had been eager to meet the king but now, she wasn't so sure. There were stories she had heard about him, nothing that should bother her, little things, his love for women, his outbursts of absolute vulgarity. She ran her tongue over her teeth, turned, and left the wall. She didn't want to see him, though why, she didn't know.

She spent the rest of the day in the Houses, she wanted to see her brothers but she couldn't see the king. Berating herself for the ridiculous and unwarranted feelings toward him she wandered through the gardens.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"Amrothos!"

Her brother grinned and embraced his sister. "Well both of us are back safe, as is your fiancé."

"What? I don't have a fiancé. But where's Erchirion?"

"He's fine- a slight scratch, being wrapped up."

"And who, pray, is my fiancé?"

"Éomer, of course."

"I must say he is a rather good prospect."

"Erchirion!"

"Always here for you."

"Really? Then tell me what this parody our dearest brother has cooked up is."

"The parody is fact."

"We were planning something after what you-"

"did to me. But we hadn't quite perfected it-"

"then when we got back here-"

"we found that father had been doing the same thing."

"You're not… serious. This is a joke. I'm not marrying anyone. Not now."

"Look, Iri you have-"

"no choice. The way we were planning it-"

"you would have anyway,"

"and he's a good man."

"No, no, no, no, no. I will not, I refuse. Why did he do this to me anyway?"

"He realized-"

"just what would have happened-"

"if we had died. And Éomer-"

"needs an heir, there are weddings-"

"being planned for us too."

"Iri, listen,"

"this was inevitable,"

"at least he is who he is and not…"

"some oaf."

She didn't listen to them. Her mind was spinning. At first she had been excited to meet this man, then she had been uneasy, but never had she downright hated him, for all the stories she had heard, she had been sure there had explanations for everything. Now there was nothing, she hated him, more then anything else in the world. She had never met him and she was to marry him on a whim of her father's upon the revelation that the race of men is frail.

"The wedding is set,"

"it will occur-"

"just after the coronation."

"You'll meet him-"

"tonight."

Her heart seemed to have stopped beating. The world stood still. After the coronation. That was, what, two weeks, three perhaps? No time at all. Her life would end in three weeks, less than a month. And tonight. Barely hours away, she glanced at the sky, evening was already falling. The sun descending in a blaze of red. Tonight then, and three weeks later, the wedding. Don't think about it, just live through tonight, there will be some way out of it. She would not be forced into a marriage against her will to a man she didn't love. She would never forget what had happened to Beliath. That would never happen to her.

Éomer walked confidently through the doorway. He was finally going to meet her, and not only that she was going to be his wife in less than a month. He stood at the head of the hall beside Aragorn and Arwen, and there she was. A fragile figure in blue and silver floating on her brother's arm. She looked like spun glass. It seemed to take forever as she swayed up the hall, each moment he was afraid that a breeze would blow her away. She was standing in front of him; the herald was announcing her and her brother. He took her hand in his own and slowly raised it to his lips. Her hand was small, finely boned and pale, and ice cold. Touching it made all his nerves send a thrill down his spine. She looked up at him then, a quick glance at his face, their eyes met. Her eyes were huge and wide and deep blue, highlighting her slightly pointed features.

For just a moment they held each other in their gaze, and then they both looked away. For the rest of the evening and into the night he watched her. Yet somehow their paths never seemed to cross, someone was always just between them, something called one of them away just as they drew close. To Éomer this dance seemed a metaphor for their entire relationship thus far. Just as he was beginning to loose all hope of even speaking to her Amrothos appeared by his side.

"This way. She's been avoiding you, silly girl."

Éomer just had time to see Erchirion bowing to his sister before both brothers disappeared and he was left face to face with Lothòiel as the music for the next dance began. There was nothing to do but accept his offer and so they went through the movements of the dance together, somehow graceful and awkward at he same time. Not a word was said.

As the music ended Éomer opened his mouth to say something but before he could even draw breath to speak she was gone, out of the hall, down the stairs and away.

Éomer started to follow her but another lady caught his arm and before he knew what was happening he was whisked off to another dance. He felt vaguely buffeted about after he managed to escape yet another simpering noblewoman and retreat into a side alcove. He almost screamed when Amrothos and Erchirion appeared beside him yet again.

"You haven't-"

"done well."

"In fact, you-"

"almost failed."

"But now you have-"

"to follow her."

"And where do you think I should start looking?"

"She'll have taken a horse-"

"and gone west as far as possible-"

"She always does-"

"and when she can't go west anymore-"

"she'll go north."

"Now get going."

"Otherwise you'll be ages."

And once again Éomer found himself in a situation he with no idea quite how he had gotten there. Riding west with no real idea what to do when he found her.

It was an hour later that he found Lothòiel. She was standing on the edge of a lake, her dress billowing about her slim form.

"My lady."

She did not answer. He tried again. Still she did not move. He went to and tapped her on the shoulder, she whirled, her face furious, eyes flashing.

"Why have you done this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You do not even know me and yet before you have even time to remove you armour from the Black Gate we are betrothed. Without a word to me. Not even a hint that I might be getting married at any time."

"It was as much a surprise to me as to you; the same might be said of my position. I was not an hour back before I was told that I must marry."

"At least you were given a choice. I was given nothing."

"True, but of all the ladies presented you were the only one I had any kind of connection with."

"I will never marry."

"You are a woman; there is no choice." He was definitely losing his temper.

"I will give myself a choice; there is always a choice."

She was screaming now, her angry voice carrying across the lake and echoing back at them. Éomer almost stepped back but controlled himself. He was being silly, she was a girl. She couldn't hurt him. All she was doing was screaming. Quite effectively.

"There is none here."

"I will never marry you, King of the Mark, never."

"At least you are marrying me and not some Easterling savage from Rhun. Another lady would have been grateful, but not you. Only the best will do, would Aragorn satisfy you, or is even he too low, Legolas, perhaps, an elf lord. There is none high enough for you. Swallow your pride for once, princess, I am the highest you will climb, a mere mortal king."

"My father would never have wedded me off to an Easterling."

"They didn't tell you?" he was surprised now, some of the anger gone. "I was given a choice of three ladies; if I declined you then you would be wedded to an Easterling indeed. They wished for peace and they saw it in you. But in thinking of you I believed you might not have liked that. What a strange idea that was, you with feelings. I see now you would have been suited there, they are a wild people too."

She had no response to this. She simply stared at him, it seemed to him that it was for a minute at least. Then she collapsed in a heap, sobbing into her hands.

Ok well that was fun- and they finally meet, not quite under the circumstances they would wish but…. Can't have everything can you?

So the next one might take a bit so I apologise in advance- dance performance, fencing match, eldest brother coming (does little dance) and hockey game- I've become besotted with hockey here in America

So thanks to all of the people that have reviewed and please keep doing so…

I thrive on reviews. So please please please… REVIEW ( I does ask, and if that's not nice enough, I begs- sam gamgee, love that line, remember that from the first time I read them, not really sure why…)