Another longg chapter, but I'm feeling bad about how ridiculously long this story has become, and trying to get it over with. I have it all written and done, it's just a matter of posting... Now I hope this isn't too mushy. I get really paranoid about over-doing it..
Cheers xx
After they had finished their meal(or in the hobbits' cases, meals), the hobbits dispersed to their own entertainment, and Alandria and Éomer were left alone. They remained quiet, just enjoying sitting near each other and the comfort of each other's presence. Not long after the hobbits had run off, a cheerful tune of music came from the courtyard. Alandria watched many of the people disperse out to the open ground, and after placing a hand on Éomer's arm to get his attention, they followed. The soldiers had partnered off with their wives, and now danced in friendly pairs atop the white stones littered with flower petals. The crushed petals gave the air a sweet scent, mimicked by the sweet sound of the violins, drums, flute, and other small stringed instruments that had appeared. The night air was warm with the bodies of others, the lovely courtyard light gaily by the laterns and torches, and Alandria could not help but find comfort in the cheerful celebration.
"A dance, my lady?" Éomer smiled at her warmly, bowing low and extending his hand gracefully. Alandria didn't even hesitate to smile back and take his hand. The music's beat was moderate, on the verge of quick, but comfortable at the same time. Éomer's rough hands held her around the waist, and her hands were placed upon his shoulders. The tall man stared adoringly into her emerald eyes as he led her in smooth circles, back several steps, in another smooth circle, and then forward a step, then again. Alandria could hardly breathe, his body comfortably close against hers, and as the music smoothly shifted into a slower tune, she rested her head against his broad chest. His strong arms encircled her more tightly, and his chin rested atop her head. Alandria forgot the other dancers around them, focusing on the heartbeat she felt beneath her touch, and the warmth and security of his hold, and the soothing smell of honey-scented soap, nearly overwhelmed by the constantly-lingering smell of horse. She wanted to tell him of her foolish worries about Lady Arwen, and how she was jealous of the maiden's beauty, and how scared she was that he wouldn't want her anymore, and she wanted him to tell her she was beautiful, and that he would always want her - but they were interrupted.
The song ended, and just as Alandria opened her mouth to speak her thoughts, a throat cleared nearby. The two broke apart and turned towards the new arrival. Alandria's annoyance at having been interrupted quickly dissolved, however, when she saw it was Aragorn. She smiled, bowing deeply, with Éomer mimicking her, and breathed his name.
He in turn smiled gently, and bowed, before glancing over at Éomer. "Would you allow me to steal a dance with her?"
Éomer nodded, smiling slightly and stepped back. "Absolutely."
Alandria tossed a smile in his direction, then readily took the King's hand. Éomer disappeared as she was led to the flower-covered dance area by the dark-haired man, but she paid him no attention. He would go and get a drink, and she would join him once she'd finished her dance with Aragorn. She glanced up at this thought, into the quiet man's pale turquoise gaze. He smiled down at her, and she was drawn to return it. The music started again then, slow but not quite romantically, and they found a smooth rythm with one of his hands holding the small of her back, and the other extended their arms away from them.
"So I see your injuries do not prevent you from enjoying yourself." He commented softly.
"You mean the dancing? No, it doesn't seem to be bothering me." She smiled back. "It's not that much different from walking, after all."
"Are you not tired from all the excitement of today?"
She shrugged slightly. "Yes, but not so much that I'm prevented from the celebration of your crowning. No injuries caused by a mere weapon could keep me from this!" He chuckled at her reply, and she smiled back, ignoring the constant burn of pain and irritation that had been seeping through her thigh for the past hour. Her ribs ached too, but only barely and it was much less bothersome than the arrow wound. Still, despite her hidden irritations, she would not be kept from the company at the celebration.
"Well I am glad to hear you are well, and enjoying yourself. Éomer and you seem to be getting along quite well." His gentle gaze drifted over her head, to where Éomer must have been, and then he looked back down at her with a smile.
Alandria flushed slightly. "Yes, well..." She shrugged again and he chuckled warmly.
"I understand. I'll leave it alone."
She flushed again. "So, uhm, you are to be married soon? To Lady Arwen?"
He smiled softly, lovingly. "Yes, I believe so."
"Her father has given her consent?" Alandria had learned plenty of Arwen, Elrond, and Aragorn's relationship over the past months and knew of Elrond's reluctance to let Aragorn wed his daughter, and make her mortal.
Aragorn nodded, serious. "He has, and I am eternally grateful. I know it was not easy for him." He paused, then smiled slightly. "Although perhaps avoiding the end of the world has given him a new sight on some things."
Alandria reflected his slight smile. "I am happy for you. She's..very beautiful." Aragorn merely smiled softly, nodding but mind too busy to be listening anymore.
The song ended then, and Alandria and the King separated in the brief quiet.
"Thank you, Alandria, for the dance."
"And thank you, my lord." She bowed and he smiled uneasily before nodding, and turning away.
Alandria turned to look for Éomer, but he couldn't be found in the suddenly thick throng of people. She made her way toward the Hall again, picking up a mug of mead as she entered. It was much less crowded in the great marble Hall now, as all the celebrators seemed to have moved towards the open area of the courtyard. A few people did still linger in the Hall though. A couple Gondorian soldiers chatted at the meat and cheese table, Faramir spoke to the elegant black-haired man Alandria had seen at the coronation earlier, and the four hobbits still sitting at their table quickly made their presence known.
"Alandria!"
"Oy, Alandria, where've you been?"
Merry and Pippin shouted at her, to Sam and Frodo's embarrassed smiles, but she merely laughed and made her way over to them. "Miss me, boys?"
"Of course!" Pippin chirped. "It's quite lonely in 'ere without knowin' anyone."
"But you know Lord Faramir, don't you?"
"Well yes, but 'e seems a bit busy now don't 'e?"
Alandria rolled her eyes, smirking. "Well then, if you're so terribly lonely, why don't you all go into the courtyard? They're dancing and have got music. It's all quite lovely." The hobbits went quiet then, shifting nervously. "What?" She asked, glancing at all their faces. "What is it?"
"Nothin' really," started Sam nervously. "It's just that..well, they keep treatin' us all like some sort o' heroes, or somethin'. 'Specially Mr. Frodo here. It's gettin' to be quite a bother."
Alandria shook her head, smiling. "Oh come on now, it can't be all that bad." Each of the four looked about to protest, so she held up her hands to keep them quiet. "Listen, most of the men out there have had plenty to drink by now, and are all busy just enjoying themselves. I doubt they'll give you much of a bother anymore. And you really shouldn't hide out in here with the celebration out there. That's not very hobbit-like at all!"
The four boy-ish hobbits exchanged glances with each other, and finally nodded simultaneously. "Alright then." Frodo said, and at his word, they all rose and exited the Hall. Alandria looked after them for a moment, amused by their unexpected humbleness.
"My lady?" She turned, and saw now only Faramir stood with her in the Hall. "Are you alright?"
"Of course."
He smiled faintly. "Good. I was just wondering why you are by yourself in here, and not out in the celebration."
"I was, already, but came in for a break." She studied him for a moment. "Why aren't you out there?"
"Just too much business of my own to take care of, at the moment."
She nodded, looking around. "Who was that man you were speaking with? I saw him earlier, at the coronation."
"That was Prince Imrahil, of Dol Amroth. He aided us in the battle."
"Oh.." She had heard of Imrahil. His line was known for their Elven blood, which explained the elegant look about his features.
He glanced at her, and smiled faintly again. "Do not worry, we were speaking only matters of business and such." Alandria nodded, looking back out to the throng of people in the warmly-lit courtyard. "Shall we go join the celebration, then?" The rust-haired young man extended his arm formally. Alandria hesitated though, glancing towards the celebrators again.
"Where is Éowyn?"
"Out there already. She is not one for talk of business or politics." The man smiled more clearly now, eyes shining as he looked towards the courtyard. "Come." Alandria obeyed, taking his arm, and let him lead her out of the Hall. The air seemed to have become warmer as the people became more abundant and active, and the warmth gave an even more friendly feel to the environment. "A dance, if I may be so bold?" Faramir asked her then, as the band began to play another song. She was unable to resist the familiar-featured and friendly man, and nodded her agreement. He smiled warmly again again. "Excellent."
He pulled her forward then, into the crowd of dancing people, and they were quickly swept into the swiftly-moving group. The tune was quick, upbeat and cheerful, and just the sound of it made Alandria smile. She claimed the position her and Aragorn had previously been in: her right hand on his chest, his left at the small of her back, and their free hands clasped together, extended to the side. But they moved considerably faster than she and the Ranger-King had done, with smiles and laughter included. The Steward was a lovely dancer, slight and quick on his feet. The music grew faster and louder and brighter until, just before it ended, Faramir released his hold around her back, and she spun beneath his other hand. Alandria laughed in surprise, whirling in a circle, and then caught easily by his steady arms. The song came to an end, and she was still laughing, even as they clapped for the band.
"Thank you," She chuckled, grinning at the young, handsome man, "Thank you for that. You're very good."
He smiled easily back. "You're well enough yourself, for being partly crippled." He teased, and she merely chuckled again. "Could I possibly entreat you to one more?" He held out his hand formally as the band played yet another song, this one considerably slower.
"I'm afraid I-" Alandria began to refuse, meaning to seek out Éomer, but her words were stopped. Éomer stood a handful of people away, and he led a beautiful woman to the dancing floor. Alandria did not recognize her, but she was tall - only a couple inches shorter than the Horse-lord himself - and thin, and elegant in a way that made her seem to float instead of walk; with porcelain skin, raven hair, and brilliant grey eyes; her face soft and gentle, with a small, sweetly and slightly tilted-up nose, high cheekbones, and slender coral-colored lips; wearing a silver-white dress that hugged her thin form perfectly and gave the illusion of glowing. She was not more beautiful than Lady Arwen, but as close as Alandria had yet seen. Alandria stared as she followed the tall, golden-haired Horse-lord onto the petal-covered courtyard, and fell elegantly into his strong hold as the slow music started.
"Alandria?"
She started, turning back to Faramir, only just remembering he stood there. "Oh, uh, yes..yes one more..." She glanced back over at Éomer and the strange woman, seeing how well they fit together and moved, and then whirled back to the Steward as her stomach rolled. She swallowed nervously, her hands shaking as they rested on the young man's chest, shivering as his held her waist. The moved together slowly, but stiffly, as Alandria became suddenly aware that she was doing exactly what Éomer was doing - dancing with another. But it was different for her. She'd had his permission- to dance with Aragorn. So why not Faramir? But did that mean Éomer needed her permission too? She sounded like a fool. But the woman he was with, she was beautiful, completely beautiful. Yes Aragorn was certainly handsome, but betrothed, and Faramir was the same. Somehow she doubted this strange woman was. Again fear crept into her, as she caught another glimpse of the two together. A charming smile lit the man's face as he gazed at the woman. Was it her imagination, or did they seem closer to each other?
"Alandria, are you alright?"
She flinched slightly at Faramir's soft voice, and glanced into dark, concerned blue eyes. She quickly looked away. "F-fine. I just...I..can't." She broke away from the Steward then, and quickly strode out of the slow-dancing group of people.
"Alandria!" Faramir called her name, following after her. He gently caught her arm, studying her closely. "What's the matter?"
Alandria glanced towards the dancing people, and nearly choked on her own breath upon seeing the strange woman's lips against the Horse-lord's. She blinked back to Faramir anxiously. "N-nothing."
"Alandria.."
"Who is that woman?"
The autumn-haired man's brows pulled together, but she pointed in answer. He turned to see where she gestured, then sighed and turned back. "Her name is Lothiriel. She is Imrahil's daughter."
"Oh." Elvish blood. Of course.
"She's dancing with Éomer.." Faramir noted after another glance. "Is that why you ran out?" Alandria didn't answer, shifting and watching the Horse-lord and Princess begin another dance. Together. "Alandria?"
"Yes." She answered idly. "I just..it's foolish but..I couldn't help but... Imrahil's daughter, you say?"
"Yes."
"Is she...is she wed?"
Faramir hesitated. "..no." Alandria stared up at him, hearing the words he wasn't saying. The young man struggled silently for a moment, then sighed in defeat under Alandria's stare. "Imrahil is actually looking to marry her. But that doesn't mea-" He quickly tried to make up for what he'd just revealed, but Alandria was already stepping away.
"So she's looking for a husband?"
"Alandria, that doesn't mean she-...Éomer is only being political...this doesn't-"
Alandria didn't hear the Steward. She stared once more at the tall, strong, handsome Horse-lord and the tall, thin, unchallengably beautiful Princess. Rationality dropped away, giving to fear and jealousy. She turned on her heel and fled the bright courtyard.
She'd never been in the gardens at the House of Healing at night before. You couldn't see anything at night - not the plants and flowers, not the land that stretched out before the city. But right then, that was what she wanted - to be blind to everything around her. She stumbled through the grassy courtyard, fiery pain flaring and curses flowing, the few torches around that were lit offering little useful light. She came to the parapet of the courtyard then, feeling the stone beneath her feet, and then beneath her palm as she reached out to touch the edge of the archway. She knew she faced the grand spanse of land that stretched eastward, but she could not see it. It only became darkness mere inches from where she stood.
Alandria shivered then, the dark night cool, especially away from the throng of people at the celebration. She could still hear it, even where she stood. And she could still see Éomer and Imrahil's daughter, dancing together. The same feelings of fear and jealousy struck her again. Part of her knew she was overreacting, and being irrational. Just because Éomer was dancing with a beautiful woman did not mean he was going to marry her. But a larger of part of her preferred the irrationality, and even had some sense to it. Imrahil was looking to marry Lothiriel, surely now more urgently than before since the end of the world was just narrowly prolonged. Éomer is the only heir to the throne, with Théodred dead, and now that Théoden too was dead, the throne was his. He would need a queen. Despite whatever fantasies Alandria may have entertained herself with, sense and politics demanded Éomer marry Lothiriel. She was beautiful enough, Alandria reminded herself, that it was doubtful Éomer would need much encouragement. Then there was the kiss. The kiss. She thought she knew Éomer well enough to count on him to never pull something so..uncivilized, and betraying. Had it been instigated purely by Lothiriel? Or had Éomer just not been able to help himself? The fear became stronger than the jealousy now. Alandria leaned against the pillar of the stone arch and closed her eyes, resting her head in her hand to hide the lashes that glittered with frustrated tears.
"Alandria?"
Alandria dropped her hand. Damnit. She didn't move from her place in the arch though, refusing to acknowledge the man.
"I know you're out here. Alandria, please."
She didn't reply. She could hear his footsteps, and then noticed a faint light moving behind her - he had picked up a torch. The light became brighter, illuminating more of the courtyard and bringing Alandria more into view. Finally it stopped moving, and she heard it fall gently into a holder on the arch near her. Still she said nothing.
"Alandria, what are you doing out here?" Faramir asked gently, stepping to her side.
"Trying to be alone."
He ignored her comment. "Why did you run off like that? Éomer and Lothiriel were only-"
"Don't, Faramir," she sighed, "Don't try to explain for them."
"I'm not explaining for them, Alandria, only trying to help you."
"Well thank you, but I'm alright."
He smiled faintly. "I can't say I believe you."
"Believe what you wish."
Faramir sighed and shifted. "Alandria, Éomer will never marry Lothiriel." Alandria glanced sharply at the Steward, unnerved by his perception. He merely nodded slightly at her look, handsome features somber. "I know that's what you were thinking. He'll be King soon, and need a Queen; Lothiriel is looking to marry...admittedly, it makes sense. But it will never happen."
"You don't know that." Alandria whispered, looking into the darkness again.
"I do."
"You don't!" She snapped, whirling away and striding towards the fountain at the center of the courtyard. It spilled water now, but instead of sounding cheerful, it just sounded cold. "A King must marry one of his social standing, or as near to it as can be, yes? Do you think a deceased Rider's daughter qualifies for that? Or the beautiful daughter of a Prince?"
"I think the one he loves qualifies better than any other."
Alandria scoffed, turning away from the Steward again. "Why are you here, Faramir?"
"Do you want me gone?"
"Why are you here?" She repeated. "My emotional problems are none of your concern."
Faramir flinched slightly, but she didn't see it. "You loved my brother." He answered softly, voice low and careful. "I beg your pardon if I feel somewhat...indebted, because you were the last one to see - and know - him alive."
Alandria paused, and turned slowly to face the Steward again. His head was lowered, his dark gaze on the ground. "I'm sorry, Faramir." She replied softly. "I..I forget."
"Forget he was my brother?"
A smiled flickered at the edge of her mouth. "No, forget what he meant to..to the both of us."
Faramir lifted his head, gazing intently into her eyes. She was struck again with the resemblance he bore to his older brother, and sorrowed by it too. "Do you ever forget him, Alandria?"
She paused, thinking a moment, before carefully answering. "Sometimes, I think I do. More so of late than ever before. Shouldn't I though? After all this time..."
"Yes, you should. And I'm not saying forgetting him sometimes is a bad thing - quite the contrary." He stepped closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "My point, Alandria, is this - your instinctive competition with Lothiriel? I think Éomer may feel the same thing with Boromir."
Alandria was confused. "But...Boromir's dead. And Éomer knows-"
But Faramir was shaking his head. "That's not it. Boromir is dead. But, for the longest time, you wouldn't let him go." Alandria opened her mouth in surprise to ask just how Faramir knew this, but he shook her question away. "Éowyn." He replied, and Alandria remained quiet in confused silence. "How is Éomer supposed to know if youv'e let Boromir go now or not? Do you not wonder if he's just as worried of being second as you are?"
He quieted then, giving Alandria room to talk, but she did not take it. She only furrowed her brow and focused on the ground, her mind churning with thought. Faramir removed his comforting hand then, and watched her think for a moment more.
"I'm going to go tell Éomer where you are.. I think it's for the best." He stepped away, glancing at her once more, and then quietly left.
Alandria walked slowly back to her place on the parapet, thinking still, knowing Faramir had warned her of what he was going to do so that she could leave and avoid Éomer if she wished, but choosing to stay.
She was alone for longer than she expected, and in the lonliness found herself wondering if Éomer would even bother to leave Lothiriel's side for her. Surely the Princess would give him less trouble than Alandria had so far. Surely she did not have such issues. Bootsteps sounded then, and her body unconsciously tensed at the man's approach. She heard him stop just barely behind her.
"Alandria?" He breathed, deep, thick voice soothing her tense muscles. "Faramir told me you were out here... Why did you leave the celebration? Are you alright?" He paused, and when she found nothing to say, spoke again. "Alandria, Faramir sounded concerned - are you alright, love?" He grasped her arm then, and turned her carefully around.
Alandria faced the tall man uneasily, a hundred different thoughts running through her mind. She couldn't meet his gaze, not his innocent, confused ebony gaze. Finally, she blurted the only thing she could think at that moment: "Do you think she's beautiful? Lothiriel, I mean."
Éomer was taken aback, this certainly not what he had expected the Lady-Rider to ask. "Lothiriel? Imrahil's daughter?"
"I only know of one Lothiriel."
"What does she hav-"
"Answer, Éomer. Please."
His brow furrowed, as he tried to figure out where this was going. "She's pretty enough, I suppose."
"She's beautiful, just say it." Alandria growled, frustration - not at Éomer, but at herself - building up as she mentally compared herself to the Princess. It was no competition.
"Alandria, what is this about?"
"Lady Arwen is beautiful too, isn't she? More so than Lothiriel even, I think." Alandria continued, pacing slowly away from the confused Horse-lord.
"Alandria-"
"Lothiriel is good enough to be Queen, don't you think? I mean, she's clearly beautiful enough. I bet she's intelligent enough. And being of nobility from Dol Amroth, surely it's a very wise move politically.." She had come back to the fountain in the center of the courtyard, and stared down at the churning pool of water at its base. She watched Éomer's reflection appear behind her.
"Alandria, you're worrying me. What does it concern you if Lothiriel would make a good queen?"
"Plenty!" She cried, whirling on the man. "Don't you get it, Éomer? You're the new King of Rohan - you need a Queen. Lothiriel is a Princess, who is looking to be married. It just makes sense, Éomer!"
"If you're implicating that I would marry Lothiriel, you're terribly wrong, A-"
"I'm not implicating anything! I saw you with her!"
"What, the dancing? Pardon me, but you were dancing with other men as well!" Éomer snapped back, his short temper finally flared by Alandria's behavior.
"That's...different!"
"The hell it is! It's exactly the same! So you think I'm the only criminal here?"
"I only danced with them! And they were both trustworthy men that we both know!"
"Oh, so just because Lothiriel is a stranger, it's forbidden to dance with her? Do you really think I would have acted like this if you'd danced with some random Gondorian soldier?"
"I wouldn't have!"
"You don't know that!"
"I wouldn't have done anything with them, at least!"
"Oh, so what have I done, Alandria? What have I possibly done to earn your damned temper again?"
"I saw you kissing her!" Alandria burst, hot, angry tears smudging her vision, blinding her to seeing Éomer pale at her words. "I'm not a fool, Éomer. I know you should marry Lothiriel, for the best of everyone. I know I can't compare next to her. I just...I didn't..."
"No, Alandria, you're wrong." Éomer pleaded, taking a step forward. "I didn't kiss her. She kissed me, while we were dancing. It was quick, and sudden, and caught me off guard..but it was only a second, Alandria! And then I politely told her not do that again and get the hell away from me, and tried to find you. But you were gone.." He took another step forward, reaching out to touch her with pleading eyes, but she moved away. "Alandria, please, you must believe me. I would never choose Lothiriel over you."
"Don't even try that." She whispered harshly, shaking her head. "She's beautiful. You can't tell me you would never choose her if you had the opportunity."
"If I had the opportunity, yes. But, Alandria," He lunged forward once more, grabbing ahold of Alandria's wrist and pulling her forcefully towards him. His expression was gentle, sad and worried, even though he held firm. "I am with you, and so there is no opportunity." He paused, staring desperately into her eyes. Finally he spoke, his thick voice low and husky, "Alandria, ic lufie pé*."
She stared at him, hardly daring to breathe. Anger and fear disappeared. Her emerald eyes bore into his dark hazel ones, searching. "...what?" She finally breathed.
He didn't answer with words, merely pulled her closer, and leaned down for a kiss. It was the gentlest kiss they'd ever shared, but expressed more than any before. Alandria leaned into the strong warmth of Éomer's chest, her hands flat against his broad shoulders. He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her flush against him, and his other hand gently carressed her cheek. His lips moved tenderly with hers, and as his hand slid around to cradle her throat, he slowly hinted for permission to pass his tongue through her lips. Alandria gave it blindly, willingly, and then their tongues danced slowly together. Éomer sighed into her, his calloused fingers nestling in her hair, his lips and tongue passionately claiming hers. Alandria made a soft sound much like a whimper then, causing the Lord to break their kiss. Still he held close to her, breathing heavily, and gazed down at her with passionate ebony eyes.
"Ic lufie pé*." He whispered again, and Alandria whimpered once more, closing her eyes and tilting her head up to nestle into the man's cheek.
"Ic lufie pé éac*." She murmured through the tears in her eyes, then clasped her hands around his neck and kissed him again. She could taste his breath and the ale he'd drunk, mixed with the mead she'd had and the faint tinge of salt from her frustrated tears from before. Again their tongues wove together, deep and passionate, elicting soft sighs from them both.
Éomer allowed their mouths to express their feelings for only a short moment more, before breaking away again with a sigh. He stared deeply into Alandria's hazy-eyes again, smiling faintly. "Rohan does need a queen, Alandria. I meant to ask this sooner but..but things kept happening and I..." He gently trailed his rough fingertips down the side of her face, smiling a little more as her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. "Alandria," he murmured, and her eyes opened in response. "I would have you be that queen."
She stared at him, a slow, tender smile growing on her features. "If you wish it, my lord," She raised up slightly on her toes, pulling his face down towards her as well, and gently pressed her lips to his cheek, before whispering softly in his ear, "My love."
Éomer smiled warmly then, and pulled her close for another kiss.
* - ic lufie pe, in case it's not obvious, is Old English for "I love you" :) The "eac" just means "too"