Chapter 5
"Hateful man!" she uttered.
Lothíriel was still steaming as the stormed into her room and shut the door behind her. She paced her room back and forth, remembering the words exchanged. And the other things other then words...
Stop it! She told herself. It was just a kiss!
But no man had ever kissed her like that... No man had ever dared to touch her the way he did... and the feel of his hands still lingered on her body...
Enough! I refuse to let my mind give another thought to this... nonsense!! I am a Princess of Royal blood, my father is Lord Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth and I'm not to take such treatment!
But damn... She hated that he had the ability to make her loose her poise.
Her eyes were drawned to her bed. There, Nooran had laid her favorite dress. Made of the finest silk, with different tones of blue, lighter on top and growing darker to the hem, making it seem she walked on a stormy wave of her beloved sea. She touched the fabric gently. Her old maid had chosen this particular dress not only because it was her favorite but blue and silver were the colours of Dol Amroth. It would be a way to honour her Land and Lord.
She undressed her daily dress and headed to the adjunct room, were the bathtub was and her bath was ready. She stepped in to the large tub and let the hot water envelop her stress tight body. That felt nice...Closing her eyes she muttered softly:
"Tonight, I will show this Horse-lord how a real lady behaves in the face of trouble. Two can play that game! If he messes with me, I'll make his life a living hell!"
A gentle knock on the door brought her from her reverie.
"Milady? It's Nooran, may I enter?"
"Of course!"
Nooran walked in the room and looked for her.
"My lady?"
"In here!"
Nooran came to the washing room and immediately started: "But my dear child, still in the tub? You should make haste! The guests are starting to arrive and your father will want to be among the first to arrive in the Great Hall."
Gathering some bathing oils and washing quickly, she said.
"Oh... I lost track of time! I needed this bath so much..."
"Well, I think you are nice and clean now! Come out of it, child! Come!"
Lothíriel got out of the tub and grabbed the towel her maid handed her. She always felt at ease around Nooran, after all she knew her since she was a baby.
"How should we arrange your hair tonight?"
"Please, something simple!"
She sat by the fireplace and Nooran worked her hair as quickly as she could into a simple but beautiful form, letting most of her soft curls loose across her shoulders and back.
Lothíriel dressed in haste and turned to her maid.
"Am I presentable?"
"By the Valar, child... Aren't you a sight..."
She kissed her wrinkled face and made for the stairs.
"And make sure to tell those brothers of yours to keep their eyes open! There will be too many eyes on you tonight!"
And to her self she added. "Too many manly eyes..."
Lothíriel came down the stairs and found her family already waiting. Her father turned his head to watch her come down and a proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Daughter, you look beautiful..."
"Thank you, Ada..."
"My my, little sister... You do dress up really nice!"
Lothíriel had to laugh.
"Well thank you, Am... I can always count on you to be honest!"
Erchirion came to her side and kissed her cheek.
"The trouble will be on us, brothers. We will have to take turns in keeping our little pearl out of harms' way... I expect a great deal of attention to her, if you know what I mean..." He winked at her.
"Stop it..."
"We should get going." Imrahil said. " I don't like to be late."
***
Lothíriel entered the Hall by her fathers' arm.
The gathering was meant to be something simple but it turned out as a great feast. Luckily, Aragorn had made sure all were invited. All. Not just Gondorians, not just nobility. The Shadow threaten all, so this was a feast for all.
The Dol Amroth royal family came close to Gandalf and soon they were joined by Gimli and Legolas. Lothíriel was in the middle of a merry chat with the Wizard when a strong voice was heard behind her. She would recognise that voice anywhere... Even across a crowded and noisy Hall.
"My Lords!"
Courtesies were exchanged.
"Éomer, any news of your sister?" Imrahil asked his friend.
"She fairs well, my friend. I wouldn't be here tonight if it was otherwise. She needs time and rest for now but her health keeps improving, thank the Valar. And thanks to you..."
"Oh, enough of that. The night is young and we should take the time to enjoy this little moments we have."
Several heads nodded in accordance. Turning to Lothíriel, Éomer said.
"My Lady... Can I persuade you to join me in a dance?" he asked, a boyish grin in his lips.
She could not believe what she was hearing.
He teases me!!! After everything he did, he still has the audacity to ask for a dance?!! Insufferable!
Alas, there was no diplomatic way to escape... Her father was looking at her now. She had to comply.
"Very well, my lord."
He raised his hand and she placed her own in his.
"Excuse us."
"By all means."
They crossed the hall towards the dancing area. She could hear the women whispering as they passed by and she knew that many would be glad to be in her place.
The music of a court dance commenced as they moved graciously across the floor. They bowed to each other as it was customary.
And so the dance began. She moved elegantly, turning left and right in front of him.
She looked calm but inside her thoughts were racing. There was so much she liked to tell that brute of a man!! However, she chose to remained silent.
"Lost for words my lady?" he teased her. "I did not believed that to be possible!"
He passed behind her, placing his left hand on her waist and getting a hold of her right hand in his.
"Of course not. But I find it unnecessary to speak only to avoid silence. Words should be used when there is actually something to say... in my point of view."
Her back was now held tightly against his chest. They moved forward following the rest of the crowd in a line.
"You mean to say you have nothing to tell me? Or perhaps that I am not worthy of your words?" he whispered in her hear.
"That is not what I said, My Lord." she replied politely. "You are distorting my meaning. I merely meant that in occasions such as this we should enjoy the music and the dance. Leave words to another time."
"So you do have words for me?" he pressed on.
He knew just how to get on her nerves! She turned and face him. Left, right, bow.
"Or perhaps dancing with me is so intimidating that your mind can't cope with the dancing and talking at the same time..." he continued.
She took a deep breath before answering.
"My Lord Éomer, I fail to see the point in this conversation. And be aware that I am capable, as is any intelligent woman, to perform multiple tasks at the same time."
Another turn, and she was again with her back to him. This time he gripped her waist and held her a little to tight to him.
They were passing a less crowded part of the hall now.
"Admit it..." he whispered again in her ear. "You liked my kiss..."
Lothíriel turned quickly in his arms and faced him. Anger was flooding her brain.
As if reading her mind, he held her hands in his and said:
"Temper...Temper... You wouldn´t want to cause a scandal by slapping the future King of Rohan in public! There would be a lot of explaining to do... Your father would surely be angry and I... well, I would simply be heartbroken, my lady!" he teased her.
Lothíriel didn't know what to answer so she simply looked at him, fuming, breathing rapidly and in a shallow fashion. By now the music had ended. She bowed to him and left his side. But instead of returning to her family, she exited to the balcony in the night.
Éomer grinned and spotting Éothain sitting at a nearby table, he moved towards his friend.
As he sat and grabbed a mug of ale, Éothain was looking at him seriously.
"What?" he said.
"Do you want my advise?" he elder man said.
"No!" Éomer quickly replied, smiling.
"Well, I'll give it never the less! You're doing everything wrong..."
Éomer looked at his captain, puzzled. "What?... "
"Your actions will give them credit..." he said nudging to a group of Gondorian lords and ladies. "We know there isn't a drop of truth in what they say for we, the Rohirrim, are a proud people. We speak plain and have no need for pleasantries. But we are not barbarians, as they call us to our backs. So, with all due respect, my lord..." he added slightly bowing in mockery. "Stop acting like one!!"
"What are you talking about...?"
"Lady Lothíriel, that what I'm talking about! Clearly, she clicked something in you but your behavior tonight..."
Éomer almost chocked. "What on Béma's name are you talking about? Éothain, have you lost your mind!?? You think we... clicked? You can't be serious! I think she's a spoiled royal brat! She thinks she knows everything and yet has seen nothing, protected and safe in her palace by the sea. She judges everyone and thinks she owns the truth. She's proud and bossy and too rational! She doesn't know how to feel, she only knows how to think! I don't like her at all!"
Éothain laughed heartily at his friend.
"For someone who doesn't like her, you seen to know a lot about her."
Éomer gave Éothain a deadly look and his captain took the hint. He would leave him alone... but not before adding.
"Éomer, I know you since the day you were born. I have seen you grow strong, both in body and in mind, and I know, deep in my heart, that you will be a good king. But right now, I need you to go outside and be a good man." Rising, a mug in hand. "Go apologize to your lady."
And he left Éomer to himself.
He knew Éothain was right. He had behaved shamelessly. After all, she was a Gondorian princess... not to mention Imrahils' daughter. He owed his sisters' life to the man... He couldn't act this way with his daughter.
Emptying his cup, he headed to the balcony.
Lothíriel was leaned on the rail of the large terrace. She tried to breath calmly but calm was the last thing she could be right now.
The day was proving to be quite a troubled one! First, she had tried to help the man in the Houses of Healing and he had the nerve to kiss her! Then, at the party, in front of all her kin, he asked her for a dance when he knew she would hate but couldn't say no. And now this... It was too humiliating...
She had been on the balcony when she realized she had left her shawl inside. As she approached the entrance she heard Éomers' voice. And he was talking about her...
"She thinks she knows everything and yet has seen nothing... She judges everyone and thinks she owns the truth. She's proud and bossy and too rational! She doesn't know how to feel, she only knows how to think!"
She had turned back quickly before she could scream.
How dared he? He knows nothing of me! She thought. Who on Middle Earth does he thinks he is!?
She was so deep in her inner ramblings that she didn´t heard footsteps approaching.
"A penny for your thoughts my lady?"
She turned to face her intruder.
"My thoughts are my own, my Lord. I wouldn't give them for all the coins in this earth."
He held his arms in the air and approached her even more.
"Peace, my lady. I come to make amends."
He leaned on the balcony next to her and looked at the city down below them. It was so very peaceful now. After all its troubles, Minas Tirith was as calm as ever in this night.
"I had no intention of troubling you..."
"Only to torture?" Lothíriel interrupted.
"Torture? No..."
"Then how can you explain your behavior towards me!? Have I done anything to deserve such indelicacy?"
"Indelicacy? I..."
"Do you deny it? That you treated me, a woman, a member of the noblest houses of Gondor, in a shamelessly fashion?"
"What?! Are you serious!? I came here to try to reason with you..."
"Reason? Do barbarians reason!?"
"You're really something aren't you? So full of yourself!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Yes, full of yourself! Lady Know-It-All! But, my Lady Lothíriel, said all you want but I did made you shiver when I kiss you this afternoon."
"I would never!"
"Really?!" By now, he could not take his eyes away from her mouth. "Then, by Béma, let me prove my point again." He said as he circled her waist and drew her near.
His lips captured hers in a kiss that was everything but tender. For a spilt second the world seem to fade and it was just the two of them. Just two people on a balcony, letting feelings take over mind. Lothíriel could feel the wave of heat flood her as her limbs started to loose strength. She grabbed his shoulders to support her and was all too tempted to drive her fingers in his thick long hair. She could feel his hands on the small of her back, burning her skin even through the fabric of her cloths. How she managed to come back to reality was a mistery to her.
As she pushed him aside, she was still shaking. As much as she hated to admit, he did make her shiver. But, by the Valar, she would not let him see it.
"See?" she said, breathless. "Nothing! I feel nothing..."
"Then you are just like the rest of them..." he said, hurtfully. "Nothing more than a pretty face in a pretty dress... Made of the same cold marble that built these walls."
She felt the sting of humiliation once again. And the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
"No, milord. My heart is not made of marble. I am made of flesh and blood and I assure you I can feel. But your pride is blinding you to the truth here."
"My pride!? Oh, indulge me! Please, explain!"
"You're the one full of yourself! So much, that you can't believe I am not groveling at your feet like the rest of the women in this town. And frankly, I couldn't imagine why! Your people are nothing but a group of disorganized farmers on horseback and you're nothing more then a lesser king of a lesser line!"
Éomer felt like he had been slapped hard. In that moment, a voice yelled.
"Lothíriel!"
Imrahil stepped into the courtyard, heading towards them. He had come looking for his daughter, afraid she might catch a cold and caught her last sentence.
"Ada..."
"You will apologize to Éomer King this instant!"
"But..."
"Now, daughter!" Imrahil demanded, raising his voice.
Tears were pooling in Lothíriels' eyes.
"There is no need..." Éomers' voice was heard.
"Éomer, I'm..."
"Really... Imrahil, we value plain speaking in our land. Your daughter is intitled to her opinion. I bid you goodnight." And he quickly left them.
Imrahil turned to Lothíriel, still appalled by her behavior.
She wanted to cry but she wouldn't. Not here, not now.
"You have embarrassed me beyond words this night. You have shamed the House of Dol Amroth, your country and your family. You no longer deserve the right to be in this party. Go say your farewell and part."
Lothíriel's heart was breaking with her fathers' every word.
As she passed him on her way to the Grand Hall, she heard his voice again.
"Tomorrow, early, in my study."
"Yes, Father."
A/N: Sorry, it took a bit... Work has been non stop... I'll try to keep up! And Thank you everyone for reviews!