::disclaimer:: if you don't get it by now...then wait a minute. she's got a penname, she writes fanfiction...um yeah, that's my poor attempt at bringing parody into my disclaimer. it means i still don't own eomer. ::sigh::

Chapter XIII

Lothíriel convinced Éomer to tell her another story. He refused at first, but after a little more wine, he agreed. He told her one of Éowyn when they had been younger. "She wanted to ride our father's horse, and of course, he would not let her. So she came to me. She wanted me to help her saddle the giant stallion. I refused, and she proceeded to kick and bite and punch me. I ended up with more bruises from that fight than from the one I had with your brother. If ever you meet my sister, remember that. I would hate for her to scar your lovely features."

"Do not fear for me, Éomer," Lothíriel replied. "I daresay I gave my own brothers more than enough scars. If they try to claim that they were bitten by a Haradrim warrior, know that more than likely, the marks are from myself." She blushed prettily at her confession, and Éomer laughed.

"I would be honored to call out their lies."

"But tell me more of your family," she said. "I know of your sister, but what of your parents? What is your father like? He must be a great man to have married a princess."

Éomer looked down. "My father is dead."

"Oh," Lothíriel said quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He shook his head. "It's alright. My father was a great man. The bravest man I ever knew. He hated orcs with a passion—it was his downfall. Fifteen years ago, I suppose it was, he heard of a party of orcs outside Aldburg—he was third Marshal at the time—and he took his éored to kill them. It was an ambush," he said haltingly. "The orcs killed all but one of the men who fought that day. He returned with the news. After that, my mother, who had always been so beautiful and happy, just wasted away. She died less than a year later, and Éowyn and I were sent to live with my uncle and our cousin in Edoras." Tears stung the man's eyes and he took another long draught of wine. "We grew up in Edoras. Théodred took us under his wing—he's a good thirteen years older than I—he taught Éowyn to use a sword and me the ways of the éored. We are not just cousins, but the closest of friends. Of course, part of that may be because he knows what it was like to lose a parent. His mother died when he was just a babe."

"I also lost my mother when I was but a babe. Elphir is the only one of the four of us who really remembers her. Adar does not talk of her very often; it pains him. They were deeply in love."

"It is the same with my uncle," Éomer said quietly.

They sat in silence for a little while. At last, Lothíriel ventured to speak. "We should not dwell on sadness," she said, changing subjects. "Come, we must be joyous. It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, and no harm can come to us." She smiled widely and leaned closer to Éomer. "Besides, we are out of the city, together, and no one can bother us." She kissed him soundly on the lips. Éomer reacted to her touch, drawing her closer and deepening the kiss. He pressed his tongue against her mouth, and she opened it, allowing him in before drawing back slightly. "Wait," she whispered. She reached behind her and began to undo her over-dress. When she had untied it, she lifted it over her shoulders, revealing a creamy under-slip, and took a deep breath, smiling. "There," she said, throwing it aside, "I feel much freer now." She leaned closer to Éomer again. "Kiss me," she whispered into his ear, and he obliged, closing his eyes, his pulse pounding in his heart.

Slowly, he realized that it was not just his pulse that he heard, but also another, more randomized pattern, like that of a horse's canter. And then, he heard a voice. "Lothíriel! Curse it, where are you?" It was a male voice, and it took Éomer a moment to realize that it was Elphir.

His eyes flew open. Elphir! He looked into Lothíriel's eyes and saw the same surprise he felt in them. She moved away from him quickly, grabbing her bodice, but it was to no avail.

"Lord Éomer! Lothíriel!" Elphir had caught sight of them and rode forward, obviously angry. "What are you doing?"

"Having a picnic, what else?" said Lothíriel.

"Don't play innocent, Lothíriel," Elphir snapped. "I know what you were doing."

"Then why did you ask?" she replied.

Elphir merely scowled at her and then spoke to Éomer. "How you ever managed to seduce Lothíriel, I cannot see. She usually will have nothing to do with drunkards." He paused. "Or perhaps you did not seduce her. Perhaps you used force."

"I did not seduce Lothíriel!" Éomer snapped. "Nor did I force her into anything! Gods, what do you take me for? A lecher?"

"If the name fits," Elphir replied dismissively.

"I am no lecher!" he shouted. "And if anyone has attempted to seduce anyone else, it was your sister who tried to seduce me! Béma, she's the one that kissed me!"

"You dare insult my sister? You foul beast!" Elphir jumped down from his horse, drawing a knife as he went. Lothíriel stood by, shocked into silence.

"Elphir! What are you doing?" A deep voice came seemingly out of nowhere.

Elphir's eyes went wide. "Adar?" The two men turned to see the Prince of Dol Amroth on horseback, flanked by his two younger sons. "You are home early."

"Aye, and in the nick of time, too, it seems," said the older man. He was near in age to King Théoden, but seemed younger for his hair was still dark and his face was not so worn with care. There were obvious marks of a good life: he had a vigor about him that was not wholly due to his obvious physical strength and a glint in his eye that betrayed his inclination to laughter, though it was apparent that he was not amused at the current situation. "Is there a reason why you have a knife in your hand as if you are ready to throw it at Théoden-king's soldier?"

Elphir looked at his feet. "He has insulted Lothíriel," he said quietly. "And he lay with her. More than once." At that, Erchirion and Amrothos both moved their hands to their own knives.

Imrahil's eyes narrowed, and he turned his stern look on Éomer. "Is this true?"

Éomer also ducked his head. "Nay, milord, not precisely."

"Not precisely?" The prince raised his eyebrows. "Then what, precisely, is the truth?"

"I..."

"Yes?" he prompted.

"We fell asleep next to each other once. Twas nothing serious, I assure you, Adar." Lothíriel spoke for the first time since her family had arrived.

"Lothíriel," Imrahil said.

"Yes?"

"You and I shall have a talk later, but for now, let us all return to the city. I would enjoy a warm meal and a nice, long, rest."

"Yes, Adar." She bowed her head and mounted her horse.

Her younger brothers quickly moved to flank her sides as the group rode towards the city. The darker of the two spoke in Elvish. "Mírthmallen wine, Lothíriel? It would seem that we could not have returned at a better moment. You have been entertaining the Rohirric lord most wondrously." He smirked at his little sister, who scowled and replied heatedly.

"Erchirion, I have not been 'entertaining' Éomer. We have just become friends over the past few days."

"Indeed." He raised his eyebrows at Amrothos. "Hear that, Amrothos?" he said in Common. "They're just good friends." Éomer and Lothíriel blushed simultaneously.

"Oh, aye," answered Amrothos, clearly enjoying his sister's discomfort, "just as good of friends as you and Aranel." Now it was Erchirion's turn to blush.

"Aranel and I are not 'good friends'," he protested.

Lothíriel laughed at her older brother. "Erchirion, you are a most terrible liar. We all know that you've been secretly courting her. Why do you not ask for her hand?"

"It's more complicated than that," he muttered and moved to ride with Elphir and Imrahil.

Éomer moved up next to Lothíriel. He had been riding behind the rest, both out of respect to Prince Imrahil and to stay as far away from Elphir as possible. Lothíriel turned to him, her eyes dancing and her worries forgotten. "Oh! I forgot to introduce you! Amrothos," she said, turning to her brother, "I'd like for you to meet Éomer, the Third Marshal of the Mark and the emissary sent from Rohan. Éomer, this is Amrothos, my youngest brother and by far the most troublesome."

Amrothos nodded at Éomer. "Faeg govannen, rochir." He laughed, clear and light. "You really should be more subtle if you plan to woo Lothíriel. Elphir has never liked it when the suitors come to call. Of course, I do not see why—I would be more than happy to send the minx off to Rohan. I'd never have to see her again."

She gave her brother a good-natured shove. "I'd be glad in the leaving," Lothíriel said, "for then I'd never have to see you again!"

"I don't plan to woo your sister," Éomer said.

"What's that?" Amrothos leaned forward. "Oh. Well then, I suggest that you no longer take her on picnics, especially if you are taking Mírthmallen with you."

"What or who is 'Mírthmallen'?" Éomer asked, obviously confused.

"Lothíriel!" Amrothos turned to his sister. "Don't tell me you didn't warn him about the wine!"

"Alright, I won't," she said, grinning.

Amrothos ran a hand through his brown hair. "Éomer, Mírthmallen, or 'wine of gold', is the strongest wine our people know how to make. Lothíriel—" he glared at his sister "—has attempted to drug you with it. It is used for special occasions, especially weddings. They say it has properties that augment certain...senses."

"Oh," Éomer said quietly, thinking back on the kiss he had shared with Lothíriel earlier.

"'Oh' indeed," replied Amrothos. "Lothíriel, I'm afraid I may have to report your behaviour to Adar."

"Whatever for, Amrothos? You drink Mírthmallen all the time."

A/N: sorry this one's a little late...i've been pretty busy this past week...watching baseball (go red sox!). btw, "faeg" (as in "faeg govannen") is "bad" in sindarin. i know it's incorrect grammar (bad met...heh), but i couldn't find the word for "badly." next up, the talk (dunh dunh dunnnh!!!).

Replies:

lotr-nutcase: it's the story of tristan and isolde...and it is an arthurian legend. i just changed some of the names and the places so they would fit in middle-earth.

blue eyes at night: thank you! i'm glad you liked the incorporation!

dancin' over the edge: it wasn't actually my version...i got it from the kay diamond jewelers website. and yes, eomer is innocent compared to lothiriel, but i like it that way. it changes things up.

hotdogfish: thank you!

lariren-shadow: i hope i answered most of your questions with this chapter (as far as lothiriel lacing the wine with love potion and imrahil coming home are concerned). and i agree, tristan and isolde should live happily ever after as king and queen of wherever they lived.

::sigh:: i'm losing reviewers...