AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm continuing the revised version of my story. I hope it's of your liking. Review please!

THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH

II

THE ACCEPTANCE OF A KING

Many days had passed since his coronation, and Eomer still felt like he was having a bad dream and was going to wake up in any second. The fields had never looked so tempting and the horses had never been so willing to be ridden, while the counselors tormented him in those never ending meetings. Besides, all of his friends had returned to their homes. His only relief was that Eowyn's wedding day was nearer and, at least for that day, he would be rid of his kingly duties.

Even thought the long meetings and even long speeches, there were some positive things about being a king. All those beautiful ladies from every corner of the Riddermark giggling and whispering wherever he went… how he wished he had had that kind of attention when he was just a soldier! Now there was another thing that annoyed him. The counselors always spoke that he was expected to produce an heir. Didn't they know that, to produce an heir, not only a man was needed, but also a woman? He had told them that, with anger in his voice, and one of them had suggested he needed to find a queen immediately.

Bema, was Minas Tirith that far?

Simple and beautiful. That is the way that Eomer felt about her sister's wedding ceremony. And, he thought, that is the way he wanted his wedding ceremony to be.

He never cared for weddings or things of that sort. They were not a soldier's concern, unless the soldier in mention was directly involved in the wedding. But the ceremony itself was not important, only the celebration and the ale – oh, yes, the ale. Why now?

He danced a lot that night. In fact, he had never danced before with other women than his sister. He did dance with her, and enjoyed seeing her dance with her husband, the flame of love flickering in their eyes. He danced with Queen Arwen, who had a soothing smile that made his fears go away. He danced with many ladies of the courts of Rohan and Gondor. And when he thought he had danced enough, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Having fun, my friend?" said Elphir, laughing.

"Yes…" Eomer sighed. "I'm tired of having fun, in fact". Both men laughed.

"May I introduce you to someone?" Before Eomer said something, the Amrothian turned around. "Lothi! She is my sister, Lothiriel" added quickly.

A young woman came to them. She looked very young, in fact. Eomer was amazed. He had been right; she was extremely alike to her father and her brother, the same raven hair and sea-green eyes.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Eomer King" she said, making a curtsey.

"The pleasure is all mine, Princess Lothiriel" he answered, kissing swiftly her hand.

Trying to be polite, he offered:

"Would you care to dance, Princess?

"Heavens, no" Elphir replied. "She is exhausted and has asked me to escort her to her room". She looked tired, indeed, and even stifled a yawn.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of times to share a dance with you, my lord". She laughed softly. "Please, forgive my weariness".

"Do not mind, my lady" Eomer replied. "Sleep well". And brother and sister left him.

Bema, they were so alike!

The day that Eomer was about to leave Minas Tirith, Prince Imrahil came to him. He looked somewhat worried.

"I hope everything goes well in Rohan. Have patience, my friend, and everything will go as well as you expect".

"Thank you" he answered. "I'm looking forward to return to my duties… although I don't know if I can endure the long meetings… and I still have some doubts about how to take care of my people".

The Prince laughed.

"I don't have all the answers to your doubts, but I'm glad that I know someone that might have them. My finest advisor desires to know your country and your customs. In fact, she longs to do so since she was a child".

"Your finest advisor is a woman?" Eomer asked, perplexed.

"My finest advisor is my daughter Lothiriel" Imrahil answered proudly. "She has been educated in history and politics ever since she learned how to read. It has been my fault, actually. Her mother died when she but a babe, and she has been raised between books and swords. She prefers the books, actually. I remember that one day she…"

The Prince was very talkative when he talked about himself or his family, Eomer noted.

"…And anyways…" he kept saying. "I consider you, Eomer, a fine young man worth of admiration and esteem, and also I am aware of the love you feel for your sister".

His voice became suddenly low.

"The most beautiful jewel of Dol Amroth, as far as I know, is my daughter. She has this hunger for knowledge that I do not fully understand, but I let her do as she pleases, trying always to keep her away from trouble. Let her go to Rohan. I assure she will take care of herself. Will you do me that honor, Eomer King?"

"It is my honor, Prince Imrahil, to accept to be the keeper of such jewel" he replied, moved. "I will see that no harm comes to her".

And so, the king of the Mark departed with his court, and with them went Lothiriel, princess of Dol Amroth and the jewel of her people.