The ceremony was a small but stately affair, held in the Golden Hall in front of the princes' close family and noble friends. The families lined the pillared room on either side, but there was no distinct order to the gathering. The visitors and well wishers were stood in groups, some large others small, but there was a small aisle way for the bride to ascend towards her husband on the dais. The princess did not bring many of her own guests, as it was Rohirric culture for a bride of noble birth to choose a court of ladies from the land of her husband. A greater fact that prevented their attendance was the ever increasing attacks on the road between Gondor and the Mark. Travelling was beginning to become unsafe. Even the Lady's own father was unable to attend the ceremony, as he had been detained by matters of state. Therefore it had been left up to Eomer to act in the brides fathers stead.

The bride had been taken to her rooms upon arriving and the ceremony was due to start at dusk. This was also a Rohirric custom, that went back hundreds of years. Old wives now told the ritual began when the early horse lords would kidnap their horse wives. They would wed them before nightfall, so that the bride was unable to find her way back to her home in the dark, and was therefore bound to stay by her new husbands side. It was common belief amongst the younger, and older Riders that this was codswallop. Nothing but fairy stories told by ageing widows that had nothing better to do. In fact, in the Riders minds, the true origin of the tradition was to allow the bridegroom a night fuelled with drink and merriment. By marrying just before dusk, he was guaranteed to be sober, but free to get drunk after the vows and bedding ceremony had taken place.

This ceremony was very different. Although many of the rituals of Rohan had been observed , the manner of which the match had been made was completely foreign. Couples in the Mark would generally be intimate before they were married or at the very least know one another. Theodred had agreed to marry the princess of Gondor as he had already reached his fortieth year and had not found a suitable match. His fathers failing health in recent times did much to encourage his acquiesce to the arrangement. Theoden King, was but a shadow of the former warrior and leader that Theodred knew. He understood to secure his realms survival he would need to make an advantageous match. When it was suggested he marry a women of Gondor, a princess from similar region to his own grandmother, her believed they would make a good match.

Outside the Golden Hall paced Eomer. To an outsider, you would believed he was the brides intended, by the nervous expression and repetitious way he tread up and down the terrace. He kicked away the odd stone and debris that had been blown onto the stone walkway and looked anxiously down at his boots. Suddenly he was acutely aware of someone stood behind him. He turned smoothly to face this newcomer and was met by a holy sight. The princess looked every inch a bride in the fading sunlight. The white of her gown a start contrast to her tan skin. The edges of the metallic trim at her shoulders, glistened in the waning light. Her hair was now unbound and flowing down her slender back and a new veil was held in place on top her head by flowers of dusky pink and pale green. The hardened soldier felt immediately underdressed in his armour and tunic. His heart instantly leapt into his mouth when he saw her. Then she spoke,

"Forgive my lord, I am told that you are to give me away, but I do not know you name." Her voice was melodious and sweet like honeyed mead, but it was tinged with a soft hoarseness.

Eomer cleared his throat and replied, "You may call me Eomer my lady. Forgive me, your highness."

From that moment on Lothiriel, princess of Gondor would be Theodred's wife and future Queen of Rohan. Eomer had soon remember that.

"Then may I offer you my thanks, Eomer."

It was the lady whom offered out her arm to her companion before Eomer could. How foreign he thought this gesture to be. He nobly accepted the princess' arm and led her without another word into the Golden Hall.

o0o

The ceremony was short, just like the people of Rohan liked it. It allowed more time for drinking and merriment. The wedding feast was held in the same place as the ceremony, and the Kings guest were sat in no particular fashion. Women of high or low status were sat together chatting and eating, whilst the men moved freely from one table to another with a mug of ale in hand. The prince and his new bride sat at the top of the room on a table with the King and his niece. As Eowyn was the only other woman of similar station and age to the new princess of Edoras, she was permitted a place at their table. Eomer however, was not. His position as Third Marshall out ranked any other nobility attending the feast, but his place at the table would be considered inappropriate. Besides, the young soldier was making his own entertainment, particularly with a gaggle of young women at the opposite side of the room. Theodred laughed inwardly at his roguish behaviour, but would not remove him from his captive audience. He was enjoying his new wife's company. Despite her initial hesitance and silence, she was slowly starting to warm and become much more responsive.

"So my Lady, what interests you?" Theodred asked politely,

"Well my Lord, I like to ride, I am a great reader and love the old tales, but mostly I love to walk."

The crown prince cocked an eyebrow in interest,

"Really my Lady, how fascinating. Forgive me, that is not a common pursuit of women, or so I am led to believe."

Lothiriel smiled and nodded in agreement,

"No, you are quite right. Where I am from, the towns are built right into the very rock of the landscape. This make riding from village to village somewhat difficult. Therefore on foot is the quickest and easiest way to get around."

"Ah I see." Theodred was truly intrigued. He had heard snippets of stories of the south from his grandmother, but the way the princess told it was much more compelling.

"Well I must confess there aren't many walks suited for a lady within the Mark. However there are many trails more appropriate to riding, and I think you'd agree were equally pleasurable."

Lothiriel smiled back at her new husband. She was grateful at his attempts to talk her about, what undoubtedly were boring subject to him. This made her soften towards him, a man so willing to make a stranger feel at ease in these unusual circumstances was surely a good man.

"I must admit sir that I am not the most accomplished rider. Do ride my lady?"

Lothiriel was suddenly aware that Eowyn was listening intently into their conversation. The white lady was not prying, but was anxious to see how well the pair were getting on.

"Yes your highness, it is one of my passions."

"Oh I do hope that you will be able to give me some help then in these matters?"

Eowyn nodded in polite agreement.

"Please, my lady call me Lothiriel."

"I will Lothiriel, if you would call me Eowyn."

The two ladies raised a glass to the other and knew at that moment they would become fast friends.

Further down the long table sat the aging King, and beside him sat the sickly worm. At this moment, the declining monarch was being whispered to in his ear and seemed to concur with whatever evil deeds his disgusting companion regaled him with. The worm, rose from his seat and tapped his goblet cleanly and determinedly on the wooden table. A sudden hush fell about the room and all eyes were directed upon the King. The crumbling man did not stand from his seat, but merely uttered one word with faltering breath,

"Bed."

"His grace demands that the bedding ceremony take place." Grima continued with clarity.

There was sudden outcry's of joy from around the room. Men cheered, applauded, stamped their feet and whistled in excitement. The younger women blushed and giggled in small voices, whilst the older women tutted and rolled their eyes at the commotion the announcement had caused. Theodred stood from his seat at the high table and assisted his bride as she too stood. The crown prince led Lothiriel by hand down the centre of the room as the catcalls and profanities continued. Lothiriel blushed the deepest shade of crimson and felt the heat rise from her chest into her cheeks. However, she went willingly with her new husband down the room. Theodred was patted on the shoulder and slapped on the back as walked with his wife and tried to hide his own embarrassment. He knew what was about to happen, he was not ignorant of women, but he wish he could have been spared this silly tradition.

As the new couple reached the end of the room, the prince and the princess' chosen court were intended to accompany them to their bedchamber and prepare them for the bedding ceremony. Their role then was to prevent any prying eyes and drunken guests form entering until the deed was done. For Theodred, he had chosen those closest to him, that he knew would give them their privacy and to be discreet about the deed afterwards. One of his chosen was Eomer, but as the couple reached their court Theodred noticed the look of sheer enmity on his face. As his brother got nearer he spoke in hushed tones,

"Forgive me brother, but I must take my leave of you now."

"Eomer, what do you mean." Theodred moved closer so only they could hear. Theodred didn't fancy the room hearing what he was about to say, nor did he want his new bride to hear.

"I'm sorry Theodred," Eomer dared a quick glance over his brothers shoulder, "I can't."

Theodred grew somewhat angry and replied through gritted teeth,

"Eomer, there is plenty of time for you to have your enjoyment later." He thought Eomer's attention were elsewhere, perhaps on the pretty blonde thing he had just been speaking to.

"Goodnight brother."

That was Eomer's final response and he swiftly left the light and warmth of the Golden Hall.

A/N - Hopefully this chapter makes some sense. My subtle hints about Eomer, may not have been so subtle, but I hope you understand the gist of the plotline. Once again please R&R! Thanks Mrs E x