Chapter Four
Lothíriel took her place between her father and eldest brother Elphir, who were standing among a few other nobilities. Seeing that they were high up in the hierarchy ladder as well as being close friends of the king, they were granted places right in front of the congregation, where Aragorn, a little pale and nervous but with a whole lot of happiness shining on his face, stood waiting for his future wife and Queen of Gondor. Also granted this special privilege was Éomer, the fellowship and of course Éowyn. Faramir, as custom would make it, stood next to the king, performing dual duties; one as a stand in to what should have been Aragorn's father's position and second as the steward, representative of his people in pledging loyalty as well as crowning Lady Arwen. It would be a simple ceremony, with the giving away of the bride and bridegroom followed by the exchange of wedding oaths and finally the coronation of Lady Arwen to Queen Arwen. And then the reception shall go straight into the night and for some, into the early dawn.
A sudden blast of elven trumpet caused the excited chattering to die down and slowly the crowd began to part, forming a path and right at the end of the path was Arwen, being led by her father, Lord Elrond, and her grandmother following behind. A chorus of awed gasps rose from all those who laid eyes on her, for never had the eyes of Illuvatar's second children seen anything so fair and lovely. Even the beautiful Lady of the Light paled in comparison. And as she proceeded down towards where Aragorn stood, whose jaw was hanging a little off its hinges, the lords and ladies bowed low as she passed them. Just as she walked by Lothíriel and her family, Lothíriel heard Erchirion whisper to Elphir,
"How come the Valars don't make ladies like that in Dol Amroth?"
Imrahil shot his second son a look of silence and turned his head back to the front of the congregation where lord Elrond, whom had just arrived with the Lady Galadriel and several other elves, hand over his daughter to the King of the Reunited Lands. Aragorn and Arwen stood facing each other, their hands clasped tightly together, their gazes locked onto one another. Lord Elrond and Lord Faramir in turns recited the words that had been said by fathers of old, binding the souls of the two people in front of them, uniting them in eternity of love. Oaths of undying love and loyalty, promises to protect and to cherish one another were then recited by the king and his bride, and a gold band was exchanged just before a kiss to seal the union.
Although their marriage was indeed official, there was silence, it was not time for rejoicing yet as now lady Arwen must give herself to the people of Gondor as their queen. She had been briefed on the crowning ceremony so there had been no need to prompt her now. Readjusting her skirts, she knelt before the ruling steward.
"Lady Arwen how do you pledge?" he asks. With her head held high with poise and dignity, Arwen spoke.
"I pledge to King Elessar and his people as their queen, and never will I compromise the safety of my people, and shall forever more promise to rule by my husband and king's side in justice and wisdom," said Arwen, and her words, like musical notes of hope, seeped into the hearts of all those who heard it and no longer did the future seem so bleak. Faramir broke into a smile and gracefully placed a crown of white silver, some said to be made of mithril, onto Arwen's head.
"By the will of the people and their loyalty to the throne, I, Faramir son of Denethor, steward of Gondor, give you this crown, and claim to all who live under the banner of the White Tree, hail Queen Arwen of Gondor and the Unified Lands," and with these words, announced loud and clear by Faramir did the people bring their voices together, loud and strong and as one, nobility and peasant acknowledge their new queen. Finally, the ceremony was over and the celebrations to begin. Imrahil left his initial position and made his way to the newly weds, who were at that moment talking to Faramir and Éowyn, looking happy and very much in love.
"Your majesty," he said his tone low with respect. Arwen turned to him and smiled. He took her hand and kissed the back of it,
"My city is at your disposal," he said, his head low.
"Thank you, prince Imrahil, but please enough of this court decorum, I would much prefer the camaraderie we shared but not a day ago," said Arwen with a laugh. Imrahil looked at her and returned her smile.
"I agree, all this bowing is giving me a backache," said Éowyn, much to Faramir's chagrin, but her words were received with laughter from the others. They were soon joined by Lothíriel who dropped into a curtsy in front of Arwen.
"Your majesty," she said, but Arwen reached out and pulled her into a hug, much to the younger lady's surprise but delight.
"To you and my friends, I am Arwen, so please, call me so," she said. Lothíriel blinked for a while but then nodded and grinned broadly.
"If you would require any assistance, I would be glad to assist, queen… um, Arwen," said Lothíriel, smiling shyly at the use of such an informal way of addressing her queen. But Arwen beamed at her and nodded.
"Thank you for your offer, for there is much I do not know of Gondorian court life, and would be grateful for your assistance," she said. But a loud snort from behind Lothíriel indicated the arrival of her brothers. Or at least one of them, as her two eldest had somewhat been detained by some very ambitious, single ladies. Amrothos was lucky to have been able to evade their claws.
"Your majesty, maybe you should not be too quick with your words, for I believe my sister, lovely as she is, knows even less than you," said Amrothos, and he too like his father, bent down and took Arwen's hand for a kiss. Lothíriel went scarlet at the words of her brother, mainly because it was true, but Arwen did not laugh at the jesting words.
"That may perhaps be true, but maybe Lothíriel's fate is not entwined with the courts of Gondor, for then such knowledge would be useless," said Arwen raising her eyebrows. Lothíriel was confused by her words. Where else would she be but under the scrutinizing eye of the court? Imrahil who had been talking to Aragorn and Faramir turned to Arwen, he too having the same thoughts as his daughter.
"Do you see what the future holds for my daughter, your majesty?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow towards Lothíriel. She just lifted her shoulders, but Arwen had taken a mysterious look.
"So would many of you, should you choose to see it too," was all she said. Aragorn just laughed at her cryptic words and the confused looks of his friends and took his wife's hand and placed it on his arm.
"Come now friends, let us move to the Grand Hall for feasting and merriment," he said and lead the small group towards the hall. When they got there, it was already packed with people eating and talking gaily. It only stopped temporarily when Aragorn and Arwen entered but once the two and their friends had been seated at the main table, the chatter and music continued.
Lothíriel was overwhelmed by the scene in front of her. Due to the continuous danger imposed on her city, Lothíriel had spent most of her years as a child behind the safety of her city walls, venturing only very seldom to the White City and when she was old enough to attend such gala events, darkness had befallen them and there had been no reasons for such celebrations.
"How do you fare, swan?" asked Imrahil, looking down at his bewildered daughter, her eyes wide as if trying to see everything at once. She turned those big eyes to him.
"I am overwhelmed. I have never seen such celebrations," she answered back. Imrahil laughed.
"Well, I can assure you that this will be the first of many others, for your cousin and lady Éowyn are due next, and I have no doubt their wedding will be as grand," he said and motioned to the couple who sat a little further down, very much in their own little world. Lothíriel couldn't help sigh. Although she was happy for him, in a way she envied the two. They were so perfect for each other, like they had been created just for each other. It made her wonder if she'll ever find her other half. And as she thought these words she couldn't help but turn her gaze briefly to the tall Rohirrim, who was sitting next to his sister, caught up in a heated discussion with Gimli.
Her look was not lost to her father and inwardly Imrahil sighed. Despite her words and denial, he could sense her budding feelings to the King of Mark, and was sure that Éomer returned those feelings, even though he continued with his rubbish about marrying a Rohirrim lady. Arwen's words were not completely lost to him and he felt he had an idea to which royal court Queen Arwen had linked his daughter too. And when that day arrives, Imrahil will have to fight the hardest battle yet, to release his daughter to another man. But those fears were for the future, he had the present to spend with his daughter and he would make use of each and every one of them. Focusing back to the celebrations at hand, he realized that the floor had been cleared and the king and his queen were on the dance floor, swaying to an old tune.
"Swan, would you give an old man the honor of this dance?" he asked her. Lothíriel laughed at his words and nodded.
"If you are sure you can keep up," she replied and the two joined the newly weds and several other couples on the dance floor. Lothíriel was content. Her father had returned to her safe and well, her brothers were with her, she had made new friends and Dol Amroth would be at peace again. Leaning against her fathers shoulder she allowed the gentle music to fill her as she swayed to the melody. But then the music ended to be replaced by a more fast pace song. All around her the dancers began to quicken their pace to the new beat and Lothíriel looked up at her father expectedly.
"Let's show them how it's done," whispered her father and winked. Letting out a whoop of joy, the two joined in the group of dancers, matching even the youngest of the dancers in rhythm and stamina. Together they twirled and skipped, spun and sped, weaving in and out of the others, and continued to stay on the dance floor even after many of their own friends had retired to catch their breaths. However, after many songs later, Imrahil's age began to catch up with him and had to, unwillingly, join his friends at the tables and rest his pounding heart. Lothíriel followed her father also, just to save him a little face although she couldn't stop laughing at him.
"Hail, Imrahil, so you have finally realized that you are no longer a young man, but a father of four?" Éomer called out from the table where he and the others of their close knit circle were seated. This caused Lothíriel to laugh harder but she quickly stepped up in defense of her father.
"Nay my lord, my father would have stayed the whole night if I had not pleaded for a moment's breather," she replied smiling happily.
"At least I am capable of lasting three songs after siring four children, you however old friend, have yet to last one and you are not even with a wife," the prince retorted back. But his words fell on deaf ears for Éomer was looking at Lothíriel with a goofy smile, his eyes quite glazed over and hardly heard Imrahil's words.
"A disposition I am sure is about to change," muttered Imrahil, much to Lothíriel's embarrassment and the other's amusement. Eventually Éowyn gave her brother a hard dig in the ribs. Éomer snapped out of his reverie and turned back to the group, not knowing what had taken place but not liking the smug looks on the faces of his friends, save Lothíriel who was red as a tomato and Imrahil who had an air of despair around him even though he shot Éomer a somewhat sympathetic look.
"Did I miss something?" he asked uncomfortably and ran a hand through his hair. Aragorn couldn't help it. He burst into laughter and before long so did everyone else. Éomer's increasing puzzled look only increased the laughter. Even Lothíriel couldn't help grinning. Finally Éowyn, who was leaning on Faramir for support manage to pant out.
"I can not take any more of this, Faramir please ask me for a dance before I burst my chest, I can barely breathed," she said. Faramir still laughing lead his betrothed to the dance floor and it took a couple of second for the two to co-ordinate themselves with the other dancers as they were still laughing. Lothíriel, still blushing hard, excused herself in the pretense that she needed a drink and headed off to the refreshment table.
"What was that about?" Éomer asked the remaining people. Imrahil chuckled and gave Éomer a pat on the shoulder before heading of to meet another friend he had just spotted in the crowd. Arwen placed a hand on his arm.
"Do not mind your sister, Éomer, she is just caught up with the festivities, and the anticipation that it will be her wedding soon," said the queen gently. Éomer just grunted.
"Speaking of marriages, friend," suddenly Aragorn began. Éomer shot his a warning glance.
"Don't even start, Aragorn," he warned, but Aragorn ignored him.
"Éomer, you have to start thinking about taking a wife and siring an heir," continued the Gondor King. Éomer groaned and buried his head in his hands.
"Aragorn, you and my sister were lucky to find the special someone so quickly in your lives. Some of us less fortunate ones have to continue searching and may never find… that special one," said Éomer, looking at the two. Aragorn opened his mouth to say more but Arwen stopped him.
"Éomer if you are going to search with your eyes closed, then yes, you will never find her. But perhaps a simple request for a dance would end your long search," said Arwen and Éomer found himself turning towards the refreshment table to linger on the back of a certain princess.
"Come my love, you have done all that could be done, it is up to him now to make the final decision," whispered Aragorn to Arwen and she tilted her head up towards him. Ignoring that they were in a room full of people, Aragorn bent down and pressed a tender kiss on his wife's lips.
"Dance with me?" he whispered, his eyes shining into hers, each reflecting the other's love in their eyes.
"Till the end of Arda," she whispered back and allowed him to help her up and lead her to the dance floor to join the other dancing couples. As for Éomer, he was too busy with his thoughts and barely noticed the departure of King and Queen of Gondor. All he could see was Lothíriel.
Across the room, oblivious to the penetrating gaze of the Rohan King, the Dol Amroth princess was lost in her own thoughts. She did not know what to make of the look that had been on Éomer's face. Her heart began to beat faster as she thought of it more. His facial expression… well, was one the one that Faramir wore when he looked onto the fair lady Éowyn. Lothíriel's heart increased further in speed. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and waited for her heart to resume the normal pace, then opened her eyes and fixed it onto the crowd in front of her and not on where she had just come from.
You are threading on dangerous grounds, Riel. You know where Éomer stands on the issue of marriage, yet you are willing to set yourself up for heartbreak. Hasn't your poor heart suffered enough with Boromir's death? Would you subject it to further anguish by falling for the king, knowing he will reject you anyways? The sensible side of her scolded.
But the way he looked at me… like I was the only one for him… his special someone… she argued back.
Wake up, princess! He is a man and he is unattached, it comes natural to him. Do not let him play you for a fool!
She let out a sigh. As usual her sensible side, which she rarely listened to, was right. Éomer had an obligation to his people and she… would marry a noble man from Dol Amroth as was expected of her. And besides, could she really spend the remaining of her life so far from her beloved sea? She had only been at the White City three days and already her longing for the sea filled her heart and soul. Nay, nothing good could come out from her marriage with the Rohirrim. Once she returns to Dol Amroth she'll just have to get over her infatuation for Éomer. So lost was she in her thoughts that she did not realize the arrival of one of her brothers.
"Sister, why are you not dancing in the arms of a handsome gentleman?" Amrothos teasing voice brought her back to reality. She turned to him, a huge smile on her face.
"Alas, the only handsome gentlemen here are my brothers and they each are busy with the other much lovelier ladies in the room," she answered. Amrothos chuckled and took her hand to his lips.
"There are no ladies here more beautiful than you, sister," he said.
"Not even the Lady Galadriel and Queen Arwen?" she asked, an eyebrow arched upwards. Amrothos turned to look at the small congregation of elves still at the main table. Lady Galadriel was talking with the elf prince and a smitten dwarf, while Lord Elrond was laughing at something with prince Imrahil and one of Gondor's many advisers.
"Well, maybe there are exceptions," he said after a while. Lothíriel pulled her hand away and pouted. Amrothos laughed softly at her face and pulled her into a hug.
"It is good to be with you again, Riel, I have missed you much," he said. Lothíriel returned his hug and hooked an arm around his waist, his arm around her shoulder, for as tall as she was, her brothers were taller and her father taller still.
"I have missed you too, Amer, and Eli and Chirion," she said wistfully, scanning the room for her other two brothers. Erchirion was at one table surrounded by several court ladies, all fawning over him. And by the looks of his smug smile, he was enjoying every moment of it. As for her serious brother, he had joined their father and lord Elrond, no doubt talking of things that were not fun related.
"Have I told you how glad I am that you are all safe and with me again?" she asked looking up at him. Amrothos shook his head.
"Not in the last hour," he answered.
"Well, I am glad, and if I never marry I would be content knowing I will live the ends of my life with my wonderful brothers," she said. At those words Amrothos loosened his hold of her and turned to look at her fully.
"And where did such talk come from?" he asked, visibly surprised. His sister not finding a match? Preposterous. Any man would be blessed to have her as a wife. Lothíriel shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't meant to say such things but with her emotions in a muddle, the words slipped out.
"They are only words, Amer, of course I would marry whoever father deems suitable," she responded hoping her brother would drop the subject.
"Suitable? Riel is father arranging a match for you?" he asked, completely bewildered. It was not like his father at all to force any of his children into doing anything. Lothíriel's eyes widen at such a thing.
"No, father would never do that. He's a dear, and beside he promised I would marry whom I thought was for me," she half cried. Amrothos sighed in relief. That was good to know, so why was his sister so pessimistic about marriage … oh, Boromir.
"Riel, don't carry the burden of the dead on your shoulders. Leave the past in the past and don't let the death of a loved one stop you from finding a new love," he said to her, tightening back his hold on her. Now it was Lothíriel's turn to be stumped.
"What do you mean Amer? Are you drunk?" she asked incredulously.
"No, you will not marry for love because of Boromir's death right? I know you love him," answered Amrothos, looking tenderly at his sister. But Lothíriel shook her head.
"Nay you are mistaken. I have come to terms with that and I release my love for him. I will always carry him in my heart, but I will not bind him to my grief and tears anymore. I close that chapter in my life and with the passing of the dark times, I open a new one," she said and placed her head on her brothers shoulder. They were silent for a while as they watched the people enjoying themselves, contented at that moment to hold each other and be in each other's company. Then Lothíriel lifted her head.
"Tell me, is my secret love obvious to all?" she asked. Amrothos grinned. Like a mad Oliphant running through a meadow, he thought.
"Aye, it was a known fact. You do not hide your feelings well," he answered and Lothíriel cringed. How mortifying.
"Eli knew too?" she asked, using the sibling name for Elphir. Amrothos snorted.
"If Boromir was alive today, he could show you the scars our dear brother drew on him. No orc could do better," said Amrothos wryly. Lothíriel did not know whether to laugh or flinch.
"At least he has no one else to direct his excessive over protectiveness now," she said. Amrothos looked thoughtful then turned to a point pass Lothíriel's shoulder. He was still looking at them.
"I wouldn't say that dear sister, for I believe our dear brother has turned his excessive over protectiveness, as you call it, to the plains of Riddermark, or more accurately to the man sitting of the throne of Riddermark. King Éomer has taken quite a fancy to you hasn't he?" he answered. This time Lothíriel chose to flinch.
"Amer, do you hear your words? They are nonsense, Éomer has no such feelings," she hissed. Amrothos raised an eyebrow at her.
"Is that so? Then pray tell why hasn't he, for a moment, taken his eyes of you since you left the table?" he asked. Lothíriel's heart began to speed again. Éomer was looking at her? No, it wasn't possible.
"Amer, your eyes are crooked. He is looking at someone else, I am sure," she whispered, even though Éomer was very much out of hearing range. Amrothos looked around them and snorted.
"Unless he has an unhealthy love for the man tending the bar, I would say he is looking at you, dear sister," replied Amrothos, looking down at his perturbed sister, not knowing whether to be amused or not. He chose to be amused, as he could see Lothíriel wasn't.
"Maybe his love is for you, dear brother," she replied sardonically. She could see her brother was enjoying her flabbergastedness. Amrothos eyes flicked pass her for a moment before returning to his sisters.
"Well, we shall soon find out, as he seems to be making his way here, most probably with a dance proposition," he answered. Lothíriel's eyes widen. Oh sweet Eru, Éomer was coming towards them?
"He's going to ask me to dance?" she cried softly, completely forgetting her earlier denials. Amrothos put on a hurt expression.
"But I thought you said he was interested in me?" he pouted then laughed when his sister playfully smacked his arm. But then his smile stiffened and Lothíriel seeing the change, turned around quickly, straight into Elphir's chest.
"Hello Amer, Riel," he greeted them. Amrothos returned the greeting but Lothíriel was more interested in looking pass her brothers shoulder. Moving aside slightly she saw Éomer… stop in his tracks and then move away from them.
"Greetings Eli," she said trying to keep the despair out of her voice. Curse her brother for his untimely arrival.
"Amer you have kept Riel to yourself for too long, I will claim her now for a dance. Will you grant your brother a dance?" asked Elphir putting on a sad puppy dog face to her. Lothíriel laughed and she could never stay upset at her brother for long. Looping a hand around the proffered arm, she let him lead her to the dance floor.
Amrothos just looked at their receding forms, anger welling inside him. He knew Elphir had seen Éomer make a move towards them with the purpose of engaging Lothíriel in a dance. As much as he loved Elphir, he despised the way Elphir kept Lothíriel from socializing with any males and letting her find some resemblance of a romance. And this time, Elphir's interference may cost Lothíriel the only man worthy of her love.
No, he thought, not this time dear brother.
Éomer wanted to kick himself for letting Arwen's words get to him. He had actually thought that maybe Lothíriel was the one for him, and was about to throw duty to the orcs. He was so close to asking her for a dance and perhaps a place in her heart. And if Elphir hadn't appeared at that moment, he would have gone ahead and done just that. Suddenly, Éomer did not feel like celebrating anymore. Weaving through the crowds, making sure to evade his friends who would undoubtedly prevent his leaving, he made his way out of the grand hall and onto the verandah. It was quiet out here as the party was focused inside than outside. Only a few people were mingling around, not enough to disturb his need for solace. Perching himself onto the concrete banister, he looked out towards the plains in front of him. It had surprised him to see the sun had begun to set beyond the horizons, casting streaks of gold, orange and pink onto the sky. He rested his head on the pillar, letting his thoughts take flight.
He would have to begin preparations to return to Rohan tomorrow, and arrange for his uncle's burial. Théoden shall be buried by the grave of his son and Éomer hoped that his uncle would finally find peace and perhaps his son in the House of Lords, where the other departed Kings of Mark resided. And he, sister son of Théoden, will take up the crown as the new king. Éomer let out a weary sigh. This time last year, the thought that he would be king had never even crossed his mind. His cousin was still alive, and his uncle still free of Wormtongue's poison. How so much could change in twelve months. The only person who had truly benefited from it all was Éowyn, for finally she could be herself and no longer be the white bird trapped in a man's cage. He had no doubt that Faramir would allow Éowyn to fly free for he knew at the end of the day Éowyn will always return to him. And Éomer was glad that such a man existed, for it would take such a man as Faramir to calm the restless spirit that was his sister.
And what about you, Éomer? Who will tame the wild stallion within you? A voice in his head spoke.
He sighed again. Even though Arwen was wrong about him eventually finding the suitable mate, Aragorn was right in saying that he needed an heir. And for that, he needed a wife and a queen for his people. Battle strategies were less complicated than finding a wife. He began to mentally list down the ladies he had acquainted with while attending court in Meduseld, but for the love of Eorl, he couldn't think of a single one. All he could come up with was a list of the cities brothel women who had been more than willing to warm the bed of a handsome warrior. All the court ladies had preferred Theodred, as he was of course, crown prince. Those thoughts made Éomer groan. Horse crap, now that he was king, no doubt the same attention would be lavished on him, with each of them hoping to secure a place on the throne beside him. Not a single one of them will want him for who he was and he will marry one of the power hungry wargs and regret it for the rest of his life. Indeed his future seemed grim. If only he were still the Third Marshal. If he were the third marshal still, he would pursue Lothíriel so hard she would agree to marry him just to get him off her back.
The intensity of those thoughts stunned him, but he couldn't bring himself to retract those words. Just for tonight, he thought. Just for tonight, in his mind, he would forget that he wasn't required to marry some Rohirrim lady and was instead allowed to hold the Dol Amroth princess in his arms, and just for tonight he could pretend in his mind that she belonged only to him.
Éowyn had seen her brother walk out of the hall and it tore her insides to see him so confused and sad. Poor Éomer, she thought. She had to help him. It was so obvious that Éomer was very much besotted by the young princess but his sense of duty to the people of Rohan prevented him from acting out the will of his heart. Resting her head on her betrothed's shoulder, trying hard to think of a plan.
"Are you tired my love?" Faramir asked as he felt Éowyn's head on his shoulders. She lifted them off again so she could look at him.
"Nay, I am not tired, only Éomer has left the hall and I believe he is not in the best of moods," she said sadly. Taking a bold move, Faramir leaned down and gently kissed her.
"A heavy burden now lies on his shoulders, I can imagine his anxiety, for he has not been trained for such responsibility," said Faramir. Éowyn nodded and the calmness of her lover easing the storm inside her.
"You are in the same boat, yet you do not wonder off by yourself," she argued back… just for the sake of it. And as usual Faramir fell bait for it.
"But I have you by my side, and when you are near, I feel like I could bring down Sauron with my bare hands," he answered. Éowyn scoffed at his words, even though inside she blossomed under it.
"Such pretty words my lord, how many ladies I wonder have you used them on," she said, smiling at him. He took on a thoughtful face,
"With you, I believe… one," he answered and once again planted a kiss on her lips. This time she was not too ready to release him. Snaking an arm around his head she pulled his closer to her and the originally chaste kiss deepened into one of passion. A passion that grew in intensity when he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist. They would have gone on and probably a step further if a loud cough hadn't interrupted them. Pulling away, it took quite a while for the two to regain their bearings and focus on the man in front of them.
"Uncle," said Faramir as he recovered first and began to quickly fix back his clothing's to a respectable sight. Éowyn, who recovered shortly after him, followed his lead in fixing her dress and was somewhat glad that Éomer had stepped out. It didn't stop her however from blushing a bright shade of red, matched by the color of Faramir's own cheeks.
"Prince Imrahil," she said keeping her eyes on the ground, but she knew that most of the people had their eyes fixed on her and Faramir.
"I believe your wedding isn't due till three weeks from now, nephew," he said sternly, his brow furrowed as he looked at the two. Faramir nodded, and felt like a young boy again, caught doing something he shouldn't have. Éowyn felt pretty much the same.
"Then I would ask you both to conduct yourself in an appropriate manner until then," he continued. Faramir and Éowyn nodded again. With one last look at the two of them, Imrahil moved away, quickly so the two wouldn't see his lips twitch in a smile. The music resumed and the chatter continued although many glances were thrown at them and a few mischievous winks as well. Just then Lothíriel came up to them.
"Do not mind him, Éowyn; he is all bark and no bite. He is truly happy to see how happy you have made Faramir," she said. Éowyn smiled gratefully at Lothíriel's words, but it dropped a little when she looked into the eyes of the princess. For although the princess wore a bright smile, her eyes were filled with envy and sadness, not unlike Éomer's.
She was tired. She was beyond tired, that her legs could no longer support her body. So far she had danced with all her brothers twice, her father three, King Elessar once, Legolas several, Lord Elrond once and even the hobbit Pippin once. And that's not counting the numerous Gondor gentlemen in between. Now all she wanted to do was slip out onto the verandah and catch her breath. However, to do so wasn't as easy as one would think. On the way from where she had stood to the doors leading outside, she was engaged in several groups, mostly women who wanted to know if her brothers were promised, a few overly ambitious gentlemen, a dance with one of her father's old war friend, more chatting with friends of her friends but eventually she managed to evade the people and step out into the night. It was dark on the verandah, she could barely see what lay in front of her, but she had faith in the Gondor soldiers and had no fear in coming out by herself. Inhaling the sweet smell of fresh air, Lothíriel walked towards the stone railings and look to the grounds below her. There was as much celebrating among the people in the city as there was in the palace. She couldn't help smile as she listened to the faint sounds of cheers coming from them. She had no doubt the scene on the Dol Amroth streets, or actually the beach, were the same and in a way she wished she was there to celebrate with them. She then directed her gaze upwards away from the busy street.
It was indeed a beautiful night. The stars twinkled brightly against the velvet sky and the moon was a perfect orb in the sky, washing the white city and all around it in its ethereal glow. A perfect night for lovers, she thought sadly.
"Lothíriel?" a voice in the dark startled her out of her reverie. Suddenly the dark didn't seem so beautiful anymore and she became aware of the dangers that usually accompanied the darkness. But at that moment, the moon decided to shower her and the faceless voice with its beam and slowly a silhouette of a man appeared before her. She released a relieved sigh when she saw the familiar glint of gold.
"Lord Éomer," she said tentatively. The man leapt off the banister and walked up to her, coming fully into the moonbeam. Éomer smiled at her.
"Did I startle you?" he asked gently. Lothíriel gave a small laugh.
"A little, but I suppose the darkness contributed to my fear," she said. Éomer frowned at her.
"Princess, I do not think it is wise of you to wonder the palace alone at night," he said. Lothíriel shrugged.
"I know, but my lord I wasn't wondering around and I'm not alone, you are here. And surely I can entrust you with my honor can I not?" she said, fixing Éomer with a look. He laughed softly.
"Yes, you can. I will guard it with my life," he answered and bowed to her. Lothíriel smiled and leaned against the railing, facing him.
"So, king Éomer, why are you alone out here, or perhaps you are not?" she asked, her eyes widening in question.
"I am alone, princess. I just needed the cool air to calm my spirits. It is hot in there with the music and the crowd," he answered. Lothíriel nodded and her heart traitorously sighed in relief that he was alone and not with a lady.
"And you princess? Why have you left the hall? Do not tell me you have danced through all the men already?" he asked in return his tone bright, but his hands were clenched in fists at the picture of men doing what he so badly wanted to do. Dance with her.
"How could I have gone through all the men invited, my lord when you are out here?" she replied softly, unable to hide the disappointment that he had not asked her at all to dance.
"Yes, I can see how my absence would hinder that small feat," he replied turning away from her. Through the closed door, the music wafted out to them albeit it was quite faint. But it was still hearable, thought Éomer. Take the risk Éomer, remember tonight you are not king.
"Princess would you care to dance?" he asked, rushed that his words strung together. But Lothíriel heard each word said.
"Yes," she whispered and held her breath as she watched him draw closer to her, his eyes gazing deep into hers. She felt his hand wrap around her waist and felt him pull her closer to him until her body was pressed against his. His other hand took one of hers and he rested it on his chest, his hand covering it. And as if it had a mind of its own, Lothíriel saw her free hand move to rest on his shoulder, her fingers laced slightly with the loose strands of his gold hair. Not breaking eye contact, they began to sway to a new song. A song that only they could hear.
No amount of dreaming could ever prepare Éomer for the feel of her in his arms. How her body felt fitting into the contours of his body, like she had been designed to compliment him. He inhaled the sweet smell of her hair, of her skin as he bent down to place a soft kiss on the base of her neck. He heard her gasp and felt her body press against him even more. Pulling back only a little, he looked at her beautiful face bathed in the moonlight. Her eyes were closed but her lips were slightly parted and it took all the will power within him to stop himself from claiming her lips under his. Just then her eyelids fluttered opened to look at him.
"Éomer," she whispered his name.
"Oh Lothíriel, what are you doing to me?" he whispered in return and he couldn't hold back anymore. He bent down and pressed his lips onto hers. He only meant it to be a sweet kiss, but he had not expected her to respond in the way she did. She increased the pressure of her lips and brushed the tip of her tongue against his lips. His lips responded by parting and he gasped when he felt her tongue dive into his mouth seeking out his tongue. The two met in an ardor of passion, stroking, caressing each other. He gently nipped her bottom lip before returning to exploring her lips with his. When the two finally pulled away, it was mostly because of the need of air in their lungs.
Not completely releasing each other's hold, they looked at each other. Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses and he was sure his looked the same.
"Where did you learn to kiss like that?" he asked in amazement. Lothíriel blushed.
"It wasn't out of practice I can assure you. It's more of the fact that I have a ladies man for a brother and have found myself on numerous occasions stumbling onto scenes I should not. A girl learns from things like that," she replied ruefully. Éomer smiled and gently traced a finger down her cheek. Lothíriel closed her eyes at the wonderful feeling.
"Éomer, don't," she said suddenly and stepped away from him. He looked confused at first but then his expression turned to one of contrite.
"Princess, I am so..." he began but was stopped when she placed a finger on his lips.
"Don't apologize, please. I'm not sorry," she whispered. He took her finger and kissed it.
"Princess, if I were still the Third Marshal, I would ask your father for permission to marry you ere the sun set on the first day we met," he whispered his voice thick with emotions. She nodded.
"If you were still the Third Marshal, you would not be worthy of rank to marry me," she answered laughing a little. Éomer chuckled at her words.
"Aye that would be true, but it wouldn't stop me from trying," he responded and Lothíriel knew he meant every word.
"You understand why I can't…"
"Fall in love with me? Marry me?" Lothíriel finished. He nodded.
"Yes, I do. You are king now and the peoples need out weigh your own. I understand that your people would want a native of their city to be queen, not some stranger from a far land," she said.
"Thank you," was all Éomer could say as he pulled her for a tight hug. She responded with a hug of equal ferocity.
"We shall be friends," she said as they pulled away. He nodded and grinned which she returned with a huge smile.
"I would like that," he said. They grew silent for a while.
"Perhaps I should escort you back inside. Tongues will wag if we are seen out here without escort," he said. Lothíriel nodded, for she realized the truth of his words. She gave a silent thanks to Eru that none of her brothers or her father had noticed she was missing or they would come out looking for her. She did not think that even a great warrior like Éomer could withhold the wrath of four Dol Amroth men. Quickly the two headed back into the hall.
However, Lothíriel had been wrong about her brothers not noticing her absence, for one of them had indeed trailed her out and had stood leaning against the wall, cloaked in darkness that he could see the exchange of words and action between the two without them noticing his presence. And he was joined by the sister of the man who had been so liberal with his sister.
"So what are your thoughts?" she asked. He remained silent for a while longer.
"I will skewer him with my sword and feed him to the pigs, for the bold act he took on my sister," he growled. Éowyn laughed.
"You agree too then that they are a match?" she persisted. Amrothos sighed.
"Yes I agree. So what are your plans, Lady Éowyn," he asked turning to her, not seeing much just a shadow of her face. Right now the face was scrunched up in concentration.
"I do not know," she replied eventually. Amrothos looked away, the wheels in his head churning furiously. How could Éomer be convinced that Lothíriel was meant for him without the intrusion of outsiders. And it will have to be done away from Elphir's presence.
"She could go to Rohan. Aren't we all due to leave for your city tomorrow?" he asked. Éowyn nodded.
"Aye, day after. But the coronation will only take three days most, and then I am sure your father would want to return to Dol Amroth. There is no reason for Lothíriel to remain longer than the three days," she said. An idea had begun to take shape in Amrothos head.
"Unless, the White Lady of Rohan was about to marry a Gondor man and requires the teachings of a lady familiar to the custom of Gondor court, albeit that lady has probably never obeyed them in her life," he said, the last bit said wryly but his face brightening with each word. Éowyn stared at him open mouthed.
"Amrothos, you are a genius. After several weeks of seeing Lothíriel around the palace, and how much she belongs there with him, just the idea of her leaving would send him in a shake of a horse's tail to Dol Amroth for permission to marry her," said Éowyn. Amrothos beamed at her. Sometimes his intelligence surprised even himself. Oh, but there was one problem.
"But I must warn you, Elphir will be against the idea and I can assure you he is a force to be reckoned with," said Amrothos turning serious.
"And I can assure you, Prince Amrothos that I will meet his challenge formidably," she replied with equal gravity. This caused Amrothos to grin. He had no doubts about that.
"Well, stop looking smug and lets head on onside before anyone misses us," she said and the two entered the hall just as Éomer and Lothíriel had previously. And as Éowyn spied her brother who was engaged with Aragorn and Faramir, looking much happier, she couldn't help but grin. He won't know what hit him.
End of chapter 4
(7,777 words)