PROMPT: 14) (kiss) casually
Lothiriel sighs happily as the wind blows her hair into messy tangles. It is the first time she has been back to Dol Amroth since her marriage, and she has missed the sea more than she can possibly express.
"Nothing like this in Rohan, eh, Loth?" Crows Amrothos, from his perch near mid-mast.
"Oh, I don't know," she calls back, "Rohan makes up for it in other ways."
At that, she turns a teasing look towards her husband-who'd been such a stranger when they'd wed, but is now her dearest friend, her confidant, the man she loves-only for all mirth to be sapped away at the sight of him.
Eomer-usually straight-backed and even-faced at every challenged-currently is hanging on to the side of the sailboat with an iron grip, his face nearly as white as the deck of the boat. No, Lothiriel realizes, as she hurries towards him, he's not white but green.
The reason why becomes quickly apparent as the boat gives another lurch as they pass over a wave.
"Oh," she cries, kicking herself as she takes him in. "Oh, Eomer, I am sorry!"
He acknowledges her with the smallest of nods. She presses a hand to his forehead and winces at the sweat she finds there-it is far from a hot day, and the wind is pleasantly brisk. Neither thing has been helping him battle what appears to be very intense sea-sickness.
"Erchirion!" She calls. "Turn the boat!"
Her brother's head pops up from behind the wheel. He takes one look at Eomer and winces, before complying with her request. Immediately, the rocking sensation of the boat lessens.
"Looking a bit green, Eomer King!" Amrothos yells down.
Eomer makes a very rude hand gesture in his direction, but given his still pale face-and the fact that Amrothos is the biggest nuisance she knows-Lothiriel finds herself unable to scold him. Instead, she smooths one hand over his back in a gentle motion, reaching to apply pressure at his wrist.
He tries to shake her off and she frowns.
"Eomer, this will help," she says, gently. "Trust me."
Elphir appears with the anchor. "We'll stop for a while, until his stomach is settled. I'd hate to have to explain to Gamling why the King of Rohan expired from seasickness on our boat."
He receives the same hand gesture as Amrothos had and Elphir chuckles as he tosses the anchor overboard.
"I am so sorry, meleth," she says again, feeling wretched. "I did not think-"
"Hardly your fault," he says, nausea having apparently passed enough that he feels comfortable attempting speech. "I felt sick the minute we left the dock, but I didn't want to call your damned brothers' attention to it."
Lothiriel smiles, softly, the guilt receding. "They will tease you about it for some time, I imagine."
Eomer snorts. "Until I die or they do, most likely."
He's relaxed out of his ramrod posture, leaning on her the slightest bit as her brothers bustle around them, clearly digging out their supplies for lunch. Once she's certain he's not on the verge of being sick any longer, she gently leads him to the long bench across the back of the boat.
"Wine?" Erchirion offers, holding a full glass towards her.
Lothiriel accepts it eagerly but Eomer winces, clearly not overly enthused at the thought.
"You do need to eat something," Elphir cautions. "We have some very plain crackers, if you'd like."
"They're the first choice of all landlubbers with upset stomachs," adds Amrothos. "Even kings."
Lothiriel glares at him-they have all been seasick at least once, it is not as if Eomer is some sort of oddity for being so-and Amrothos holds his hands up in a placating gesture. Her brothers keep up a steady stream of chatter as they eat, whereas Eomer remains mostly quiet, one arm tucked around her waist and the other holding his half-eaten cracker.
"Well, lads," Amrothos declares, once the first bottle of wine has been finished, "I think it's time for a swim."
Erchirion and Elphir both grin. In no time at all, they've all stripped out of their shirts and shoes. Lothiriel casts her husband a look from under her eyelashes-he's still rather focused on keeping the cracker down, from what she can tell. Appealing as the water looks, it feels wrong to leave him alone.
Amrothos hurls himself in with a loud whoop. Erchirion follows in a graceful dive. Elphir, though, pauses, giving them a thoughtful look. "Are you two coming?"
Eomer grimaces and Lothiriel has her answer. "No," she says. "We'll just enjoy the shade."
Elphir shrugs, but shoots Lothiriel a conspiratorial wink before he jumps in. As soon as he's overboard-and out of sight-Eomer lets out a sigh of relief, moving over on the bench until he can comfortably lay down with his head in her lap.
"Poor love," she says, combing his hair back from his face.
"I know you want to swim," he grumbles, the sound slightly muffled by the fabric of her skirt, "and I know how you have missed it. You should not have to stay and tend to me-"
"Eomer," Lothiriel interrupts, "when have you ever known me to do something I do not want to?"
He's silent for a moment before saying, "Never."
"Mm," she hums. "So it stands to reason that if I am sitting here, tending to my poor, seasick husband, and not in the water with my troublesome, meddling brothers…?"
"Then you are where you want to be," he finishes, turning his head so he can meet her gaze. "Bema knows why."
Valar, it overcomes her sometimes. How handsome he is, how good, how brave. "Because I love my poor, seasick husband," Lothiriel answers, brushing her fingers along his bearded cheek.
Eomer smiles, soft and slow, in the way he only ever seems to save for her. She leans down to kiss him-just a gentle press of lips that only begins to express the overwhelming affection she feels for him.
Lothiriel huffs a laugh against his mouth when his hand slides into her hair, turning the kiss from something sweet and casual to one with more than a hint of promise for later, when they aren't on a boat, surrounded by water and her annoying brothers.
"The water can't give me that," she says, once he's released her.
"More pity for the water," Eomer teases. He sits up-a little gingerly, it must be said-and then tucks his arm around her once again. "I think I will take some of that wine now."
She pours them both generous glasses, and snuggles more comfortably against his side.
"Oh, gross," groans Amrothos.
"You are such a child, Amrothos," Elphir retorts. "It is a good thing that they care for each other."
"Yes," Erchirion agrees, smiling at the picture Lothiriel and Eomer make: curled against each other, asleep in the late afternoon sun. "But we have a bigger problem."
"A bigger problem than our baby sister canoodling with her Rohirric warrior husband on my ship?" Amrothos scoffs.
"Much more dire," Erchirion says. "For our baby sister and her Rohirric warrior husband have drank all of the wine."