Author's Note: I watched Jerry Maguire again tonight. So now I have to write. I have to. I have no choice. The only problem is what? I have a story due in a week for a class that I should be working on…but something in me demanded fanfiction tonight. So here it is. Hope someone likes it!
(And yes, if you've read The Chase, I'm calling this girl Ria as well. It's not a sequel, I just like that name better than writing Lothiriel over and over. :)
Ria stared at her husband and wondered if she'd made a horrible mistake. After all, they barely knew each other. Everyone had called it a whirlwind courtship. The women had sighed over how romantic it all was and the men had nodded approvingly over the political sensibility the princess was showing. If that was so, she now wondered, why could she not swallow a bite of her own wedding cake? Why could she barely look Eomer in the eye?
She felt sick. "Please excuse me for a moment," she murmured indistinctly as she shoved her chair back and fled the table. Suddenly the great hall of Meduseld seemed stiflingly hot. Ria pushed her way through the crowd and fumbled with the first door handle she came to. To her dismay, she found that her hands were shaking. With each moment she grew more and more agitated, until she felt a tear fall down her cheek.
"May I ask why you are suddenly so desperate to see the wine cellar, Ria?" The low caress of her husband's voice directly over her left shoulder shocked Ria into jumping and whirling around to face him. At the sight of Eomer, she tried to relax, but found herself stiffening even more. "What's wrong?" He asked, a look of concern crossing his face.
"I needed a breath of air so I…I must have gotten the wrong door," Ria began to explain absently. She faded off when she realized that her husband was very competently ushering her though the throng of guests to a door she now recognized as leading outside.
The sight of the starts twinkling in the endless sky of Rohan calmed her a bit. But only a bit. "Do you think this was a mistake?" Ria blurted out.
"Do you?"
"I asked you first."
Eomer sighed, but there was a distinct note of amusement in his voice when he answered. "No, I do not, but I can see where you might think so."
"You do?"
"Yes."
Ria was suspicious. "How?"
"Our courtship was quite short, and our engagement lasted barely a month. Now we are married. You must be wondering about your role here- if not as queen of Rohan then as my wife. A wedding night is before you, followed by uncertain days of growing used to life here."
"Oh." Ria was silent for a moment. "You are quite observant, my lord, but there is one matter you left out."
"We are married now, Ria, I think we have progressed beyond the 'my lord' and 'my lady' stage. What did I leave out?"
"The matter of love."
Three Months Later
Faramir was frustrated with his brother-in-law. Aragorn was frustrated with his good friend. Eomer was frustrated with his wife.
They were all sitting around a table full of maps and mugs of ale. What had started off as a strategic planning session had quickly degenerated to a discussion of the King of Rohan's marital problems, much to his discomfort and Faramir's and Aragorn's amusement. Three months after his wedding even Eomer, who had been completely optimistic about the state of things at first, had to admit that there were problems. He blamed them on Lothiriel.
Aragorn and Faramir knew about the fights. It was hard to misinterpret the tension that constantly hung between the newlyweds. They were reluctant to talk to each other and, it appeared, only did so in public. While Lothiriel was fulfilling her new duties as Queen of the Mark admirably, she was noticeably reticent to spend any more time than absolutely necessary with the King.
What Aragorn and Faramir didn't know was that the marriage had not even been physically consummated.
"I tried. For two months I tried every day to make her happy, to make her relax and smile and laugh the way she did in Dol Amroth. But I could not. So I stopped trying and things are as you see them." Eomer raked a hand through his hair and took a drink of ale. He was a man used to winning everything. If something was not easy to attain, why he went after it with a vengeance. He usually relished the challenge.
Not in this case. "Something must have happened. What did you fight about?" Aragorn asked. Faramir watched his brother-in-law quietly.
Eomer sighed. "She was experiencing some anxiety early on, and she asked me if I thought our marriage was a mistake. I told her no, I did not, but that I understood why she was having second thoughts. Then she asked me if I loved her."
"Please tell me you said yes," Faramir spoke up.
Grimacing, Eomer shook his head. "No, I was brutally, horribly honest. I said that while I did not think I loved her in the traditional sense, I had been deeply impressed and moved by her character and personality, and that I was utterly convinced a union between us would be a wise decision."
"Let me guess. She did not take kindly to that." Aragorn tried to hide a grin.
"She accused me of deceiving her, of leading her on, and of marrying her under false pretenses."
Faramir leaned forward. "Did you?"
"No!" Two pairs of skeptical eyes stared back at Eomer. "All right, I was charming, and I was persuasive, but I never said the phrase 'Ria, I love you' and she never asked."
"Oh, no, you didn't say that, too, did you?"
Silence.
"Very well, I should have been up front with her from the beginning. But that doesn't matter! I care for Ria a great deal, and we are married now. How can I earn her forgiveness?"
Aragorn thought a moment. "Grovel."
"Yes, groveling generally works," Faramir added.
"I will not beg from my own wife!"
Assuming a vaguely superior air, Aragorn threw an arm over Eomer's shoulders. "Ah, but you see, my dear friend, marriage does not work very well when the parties involved are reluctant to lay eyes on one another."
AN: Bad stop, I know. Next up: Ria's opinion on all this, and then the fun will begin! Maybe. Anyway, please review, let me know what you think, and any ideas you have for future scenes/ subplots/ anything. Thanks!