Lothíriel could hear festive music coming from within the tent Éowyn was supposed to be inside. If she were fully healed, she probably would have entered with a bit more jump in her gait but she supposed she'd have to be satisfied with simply acknowledging the liveliness of the music. There was a similar feeling of unhindered joy among each of the rohirrim. As she pulled back the flap she saw Éowyn standing with the musicians, singing happily, she had even begun to twirl a bit until she saw Lothíriel and Éomer. The musicians tumbled through a halt as they acknowledged their guests.

"I'm so glad that you could come!" Éowyn rushed forward, hugging Lothíriel tightly.

"Gently!" Lothíriel squeaked. Éowyn immediately released her with an apology. After taking a few seconds to collect herself, she looked at the group of musicians. "The music was lovely, I'm rather sorry I interrupted."

"It's in preparation for when the sun begins to set in preparation for the night's festivities." Éowyn bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. "Would you like to join us for the song, I'm sure that you'd be welcome to do so." Éowyn's gaze shifted, "What do you think, brother."

"I don't believe the rohirrim would have any issue with someone as lovely as the princess joining you in song." Éomer crossed his arms. Lothíriel looked at him in shock.

'Lovely? This man runs hot then cold then hot again, doesn't he?' Then she realized what he was saying and she shook her head vigorously. "They wouldn't mind I'm sure, at least until I opened my mouth."

"Oh come, you can't be so bad." Éowyn took Lothíriel's hand.

"I can." Lothíriel chuckled. "If I were to sing, you most likely would think I had turned back into a horse." She laughed at a thought, "Then I'd never be able to get you to stop calling me Flower Dancer and comparing me to your stallion." Her laugh grew louder as something she hadn't expected at all to happen did indeed happen. Éomer's face grew the tiniest shade of pink. 'I made him feel flushed!' She thought triumphantly as she tried (and failed) to stifle her laughter.

"Well give us a demonstration," Éomer's voice was hard and his body had tensed slightly after being laughed at.

"Oh no, no no." Lothíriel raised her hands. "I save that skill only for situations where I am being attacked by orcs or bandits. I have yet to see if it would work yet, but I'm fairly sure it'll send them running for the hills." She heard Éowyn laugh as she finished.

"Well, you ought to do something." Éowyn said after finally calming herself enough to finish a sentence. "The rohirrim believe that one can't have a full experience of something unless you've participated."

"I would dance if I were not injured, but alas, I must refrain myself to simply watching." Lothíriel shrugged. There was a moment of silence among the group as no one knew how to answer.

"Is anyone hungry?" She heard Éomer ask awkwardly. "There's a food and ale tent close to where the final races and archery matches will be taking place at midday." Lothíriel felt relieved that the question seemed to diffuse any uncomfortablity among the rohirrim.

"Food may be a good idea. Especially since you have to preside over the final contests as king." Éowyn seemed to catch on to what her brother was doing and took Lothíriel's hand, leading her out of the tent. Lothíriel's stomach planged in anticipation as she remembered her unfinished meal back in Meduseld. It took a while for the group to navigate through the crowds before arriving at the specified tent. As soon as they sat down at an empty table, a cheery woman with fiery red hair came towards them.

"My king, my ladies and sirs," she spoke in rohirric, looking at Lothíriel apologetically. "We are serving sheperd's pie. Also, if someone could tell the Gondorian lady," she smiled at Lothíriel, silently apologizing again, "that we only have ale to drink, and no wine, I would be grateful."

Éomer nodded to the woman before turning to Lothíriel. "I'm afraid that –" He began in Westron when Lothíriel cut him off.

"I love sheperd's pie,". Lothíriel spoke in clear rohirric, meeting Éowyn's gaze for a moment and recognizing the playful gaze within. "While I am well versed in Gondorian wines, an ale sounds like something that would taste wonderful along with the meal." The woman stared at Lothíriel for a moment before nodding and rushing off to deliver the promised food. Lothíriel turned her gaze over to Éomer to see his shocked expression.

"You speak our language?" He asked.

Lothíriel threw her hands up and looked to the sky. "Everyone seems to be shocked by that!" Bringing her eyes back down she looked across the table, directly into Éomer's eyes, her gaze challenging him. "Do I really look so stupid that it should be such a surprise?"

A/N: Something I've come to realize is that just about every iteration of Lothíriel I've read about was very accomplished as a princess and this included the ability to sing like a songbird. Well if you remember that Erchirion highlights some (most) of Lothíriel's faults, I figured the one of those "faults" would be his sister's inability to sing properly.

Just a though. Also, side note, really enjoyed writing this banter. Hope you enjoyed reading it!