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Of Swans and Horses : Queen of the Riddermark	By : lynnwood84 Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General Views: 5558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Chapter Nine
Rohirrim Wedding
~~*~~

�� Loth�riel started a little at the
hand that gently shook her arm. Her bleary eyes opened to see Freda hovering
over her, her young face lit with ill-contained excitement.
�Come
my lady,� she called in her breathy, sing-song voice, �it is time to start
getting ready!�
Still
groggy from sleep, for a moment Loth�riel just stared blankly at the child,
wondering what it was time to get ready for. Then dawning hit, and she gasped,
immediately feeling her heart begin to race. With excitement or dread, she
wasn�t entirely sure. Maybe both.
Today
was the day of her wedding to Eomer, Horse-Lord and King of the Riddermark.
Freda
turned away to fetch the light breakfast that she�d brought with her while
Loth�riel slowly sat up and did her best to shake free of the last vestiges of
her dreams. She nibbled on the warm sweet cakes and fresh milk while Freda
flitted here or there, gathering all the things she would need to see her lady
properly made up for the occasion.
A
few moments later, mistress Frecca entered, bidding her a cheerful good
morning�which Loth�riel did her best to return. The older woman soon turned to
help her daughter with the preparations.
Not
long after that Lady Eowyn suddenly entered the chamber. She was already
dressed in a fine pale green satin gown with her blonde hair pulled back, an
intricate circlet of golden flowers across her brow, each with gleaming emerald
jewels as their center. Then Riana, garbed in resplendent indigo silk overlain
with silver netting, her brilliant red hair pulled back into several coils and
held there with silver pins, and a matching, intricate woven band of the same around
her brow.
Their
near-breathless excitement and giddy anticipation was infectious, so that much
of her fear was soon forgotten, at least for now. Instead Loth�riel found
herself gently bullied out of bed and then helped into one of her finer
snow-white chemises. Yet when Freda suddenly produced the mithril gown, she
shook her head.
�Ah,
no Freda. I have changed my mind. I think I will wear the silver velvet one instead.�
�Loth�!�
Riana protested immediately, face aghast. �I thought you wanted desperately to
wear your mother�s gown at your own wedding! You spent months and months altering
it!� Loth�riel blanched, then sighed.
�I
did wish to wear it, Riana, but . . . I am afraid it will be seen as too much. The
Rohirrim have suffered much this past year, and I do not wish to appear so
pretentious. The silver velvet will be fine.�
Eowyn
and Riana shared a knowing glance, then the blonde stepped closer and seemed to
consider the gown hanging from the young maid�s fingers with serious eyes. She
suddenly turned back after several moments.
�No
Loth�, I think that it must be this gown that you wear today,� the White Lady
pronounced, tone firm and brooking no argument. �This gown is too fine a
treasure to be kept hidden away, and your father and brothers will be fair
bursting with pride to see you so well-garbed in the colors and emblem of your
homeland. It will help ease the sting of losing you to another man and kingdom.
That, and the love and consideration you put into altering such a beloved
heirloom is apparent in every fold of this fabric. I think that that will be more telling than any misgivings
anyone might have as to it�s costliness.� Eowyn tapped a nail to her lower lip
for a moment in thought, then brightened. �And I have just the thing to keep
your appearance from seeming too elaborate or conspicuous, if that is your wish.
We will dress your hair in the Rohirrim way, instead of the Gondorian coils and
netting. I think that will be just the thing to soften your look, to help you
appear more approachable and less haughty.�
Loth�riel
remained dubious, but the others were quick and eager to agree, so she finally
bowed to their combined desires and went along with it. Freda and Frecca helped
her into the glimmering white-silver gown�which felt as light as a breeze
despite its many embellishments�fastening the row of tiny catches at her back
beneath the cape and train. The neckline swooped low across her breast, the
edges not quite covering the top of her slim white shoulders, the under-sleeves
long and fitted until the heel of her palms, the false sleeves over them wide
and hanging well to the ground. The brocaded bodice of the gown hugged her slim
figure closely, all the way down well past her hips before the fabric finally
loosened to drape in a glistening tide to the floor at her slippered feet.
At
Eowyn�s urging, her dark hair was completely unbound and brushed until it too
gleamed as brilliantly as any jewel in the firelight, the faintly curled tips
brushing the backs of her knees. The only adornment they put in was a beautiful
headpiece that held back her hair and outlined the sides of her face with what
appeared to be delicate silver, feathery wings unfurled�the longest of the feathers
framing her pale cheeks near to the corner of her lips. Strands of glittering
silver beads and teardrop sapphires draped from it onto her brow and down into
her ink colored hair.
Loth�riel
stood and stared at her reflection in the polished silver looking-glass,
somewhat stunned at what a difference this gown and the hairstyle made. The cut
of the fine dress was very feminine and provocative without being blatant,
hugging her curves and showing them off at their best, but still appearing
stately while doing so. And with her hair loose, it suddenly gave more
substance to her small frame, so that she didn�t seem quite so rail-thin and
waif-like. Instead she looked . . . older somehow, less of an awkward girl-child
and more a woman-in-the-making.
The
others stood behind her, admiring and excited.
�You
look a vision, Loth�,� Riana whispered, standing behind her. �Your father and
brothers will scarce recognize you, I think. You have grown up while none of us
were looking.� The redhead gripped her shoulders in a comforting squeeze, her
green eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears. �I shall miss you terribly,
little sister.�
Loth�riel
turned and buried her face in Riana�s shoulder, suddenly fighting tears of her
own. �And I you,� the younger girl whimpered. They stayed that way for a
moment, until someone was suddenly tugging on her hair.
�Alright,
enough of that,� Eowyn suddenly muttered somewhat brusquely. Yet when Loth�riel
lifted up it was to see the White Lady struggling with the moisture gathering in
her own eyes, though stubbornly attempting to keep them at bay. �No more sad
tears, or you will have me blubbering right along with the rest of you. I
cannot be held accountable due to my delicate condition,� the proud female
announced then, chin lifting stubbornly and ignoring the others� smiles and
chuckles. �Babes make overly-emotional harpies out of the best of us.�
It
seemed an eternity and an instant, all rolled into one, before someone was
knocking on the door and saying that the ceremony was soon to begin. Loth�riel
tried her best to smile, accepting Eowyn and Riana�s last minute hugs and well
wishes before they slipped out of the door. Then she took a deep breath, shored
up what little there was to be had of her courage and then left the room as
well. It was to find her father standing in the hall ready to escort her,
dressed in a fine black-blue sapphire and silver velvet tunic emblazoned with
the silver swan of Dol Amroth and the white tree and seven stars of Gondor.
Imrahil�s
expression was one of stunned awe as she stepped out to meet him. Her father
reached up with a faintly trembling hand, his fingers carefully tracing a
string of silver beads that hung across her cheek, curving around the line of
her jaw until he reached her chin. He gently forced her to lift her head and
meet his stare. Then he seemed to force a small smile, though his eyes were
conflicting between great sadness and painful pride.
�You
look just like your mother,� he whispered hoarsely then, �and so very beautiful.�
And
suddenly Loth�riel wanted to cry again. Her father was a very warm and
affectionate man compared to most, but he had never once likened her to her
mother�Princess Aerberethiel�before, a woman who was said to rival the beauty
of the elves for which she was named. She swallowed with some difficulty,
giving her own wobbly smile through her tears, her hands lifting to touch his
own.
�Thank-you,
Papa,� she whispered back, her voice just as choked with emotion as his had been.
They
shared another silent moment before Imrahil finally shook himself and recovered
his equilibrium. He held out his arm. �Come, daughter,� he murmured softly. �It
is time.�
Loth�riel
took a deep, trembling breath for fortification, then hooked her hand into the
crook of his elbow. The Prince of Dol Amroth began leading her down the
corridors of Meduseld then, and Loth�riel suddenly noticed through her nerves
that it had been decorated well for the occasion. Huge green, red and gold
banners hung in great festoons, held in place by bouquets of white flowers and matching
satin ribbons�with the massive white horse of Rohan blazoned across many of
their fronts.
The
halls were completely empty, with no one else wandering about. No doubt
everyone was waiting for them in the main hall. When they reached a side door,
her father suddenly hesitated. Imrahil turned to her, his expression troubled.
�Loth�riel,�
he murmured, reaching over with his free hand to cover her smaller one resting
on his arm. �Are you certain that you will be happy here?� he questioned then.
Loth�riel
opened her mouth to answer, yet at that moment her mind suddenly drifted back
to last night. Back to the moment when she had begun to truly believe that
marriage to the powerful King of the Mark would not be such a burden after all.
And instead of her polite affirmation, she ended up blurting out, �his kisses
are very nice.�
And
then her eyes widened and her cheeks stung with mortification, not even daring
to believe she had just said that out loud to her father, of all men. Yet instead of become upset, Imrahil merely
blinked down at her in surprise. Then he very slowly started to smile. He
patted her hand, letting out a soft chuckle.
�I
am glad to hear it, Loth�. Very glad indeed.�
Then
her father was opening the smaller door and pulling her out of it, onto the broad
stone terrace outside. As they circled around to the front of the hall, the
guards watched her pass�some unseasoned enough to let their eyes widen and
their mouths open with shock, though she wasn�t entirely certain where that
reaction stemmed from. When they reached the front, she was confronted with
what seemed to be a sea of expectant faces; all those who could not find room
or admittance inside the Great Hall itself she would imagine. As the bright
mid-morning sunlight hit her gown�setting the brilliant mithril on fire and the
sapphires in her hair to gleaming like tiny pinpoints of blue starlight�audible
gasps and murmurings of awe went up throughout the press.
Loth�riel
wasn�t given much time to bask in their reaction, as her father was soon
pulling her toward the main double-doors. The guards standing point there
stepped forward and then threw them wide with a loud, groaning flair. As one,
the press of bodies inside stood up and then turned back to face her. Loth�riel
felt a brief moment of panic at so many people suddenly staring at her, most of
them Rohirrim that she did not recognize.
Though
she was a Princess, Belfalas and the city of Dol Amroth were somewhat sheltered
compared to most fiefs of Gondor, and she had never been one to enjoy being the
center of attention anyhow. Yet she was soon to be a Queen, Loth�riel reminded
herself sternly, she would have to get used to this somehow. Then she willed
her knees to stop shaking so badly, though she wasn�t very successful at it.
Imrahil�s
hand, still atop hers, gently squeezed her trembling fingers for comfort before
he began leading them inside the Great Hall. Her father led her down the small
aisle between rows and rows of benches, toward the back of the hall where
Mithrandir and the King of Rohan awaited them. Her widened eyes flickered here
or there, catching familiar visages in the sea of faces around her. She saw her
brothers first, Amrothos and Erchirion, both looking uncommonly solemn as she
passed. She even thought she detected a hint of glassy moisture Amro�s
blue-gray eyes, but she couldn�t be certain, as they were all too quickly past.
Riana
was next, standing next to her husband. The former was holding Finuviel and
crying openly, though her smile was wide and cheery just the same. Elphir stood
tall and proudly at her side, holding little Alphros in his arms. His face was unreadable,
but Loth�riel could see the tenderness and pride in his pewter eyes that he couldn�t
bring himself to show openly. Her nephew craned his dark-haired head around to
see her pass, then suddenly grinned and waved at her, as if only just
recognizing her. The innocent exuberance of the action eased some of her
terrible tension, allowing a small smile to form on her otherwise pale and
drawn face.
Then
she saw her cousin Faramir, standing beside his wife Eowyn, who was doing her
best to hide the tear drops that kept trying to fall out of her eyes. The White
Lady gave her a broad smile instead. Faramir�s smile was softer, more subtle,
but he nodded to her as well�as if to give her courage. Loth�riel was very
grateful for it.
Next
were the two little Hobbits, Merry and Pippen, who looked so out of place among
the Rohirrim in their silk waistcoats and knee breeches. Yet they stood
comfortably beside King Aragorn and Queen Arwen, eyes bright and smiles
genuine. The King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor was also
smiling, his gray eyes gentle. And the Queen, almost painfully beautiful,
caught her eyes and held them as she passed. Loth�riel couldn�t be certain, but
she could almost swear she heard a voice in her mind while those powerful blue orbs
locked with her own.
Take heart, sea-maiden, and you will
find your courage.
And
then her father was leading them beyond the press, up onto the front dais where
her soon-to-be husband awaited her. Loth�riel hadn�t noticed much about Eomer
until now, too caught up in her own nerves. Yet suddenly her eyes were filled
with him and she gasped a little, caught somewhat off guard.
By the Valar, he is so handsome, was her first, dazed thought.
The
young King looked every inch the part today, dressed from head to toe in fine
velvets and linen rather than the plainer wool he normally wore. His overtunic
was a very dark�nearly black�green velvet, the sleeves ending at his shoulders
and the hem falling well past his knees, the hems of both edged in the intricate
white and gold knot work brocade that the Rohirrim culture fancied. The longer
sleeves of his under tunic were a crisp white linen, clasped tightly at his
wrists but otherwise loose around his thick arms. Both were girded at his
narrow waist with a thin brown belt, with the King�s sword�Guthwine�hanging
from it�s scabbard on his right hip. His trousers were the same blackish green
as the overtunic, fitted into highly polished black boots. A rich forest green
cloak bordered in white and gold�of which she remembered him wearing from the
first day she met him�was fastened around his shoulders. This time the voluminous
material was held in place by two large golden studs in the shape of curled horse
heads, held together by a thick rope of the same that spanned the front of his
chest. And finally, what was perhaps the most striking about him now, was that
his blonde hair was brushed back and tamed by a thick golden crown that sat low
on his brow, wrought in ornate carvings and gleaming blood-red jewels.
Eomer
King stood tall and confident before the assembled, dark eyes strangely intent,
with an unshakable aura of power and authority that seemed to ooze from his
every pore. No one who gazed at him now could ever doubt that this man was
indeed the rightful Lord of the Riddermark.
Loth�riel
allowed her father to lead her up the three steps of the dais in somewhat of a
daze. She searched the face of this King of Men in front of her, desperately
trying to find anything familiar in him to ease her nervous fear. Yet she saw
nothing that soothed her.
Imrahil
bowed his head slightly, then lifted her nearly numb hand away from his elbow
and presented it to Eomer. The Horse-Lord nodded in return, then took her hand
in his much larger, darker one. As soon as his grip closed around her fingers
she tensed a little, stunned by how much warmer his skin was than hers, almost
hot in comparison. It immediately began chasing away the icy numbness that had
besieged her ever since stepping into the Great Hall. The King used his grip on
her to very gently tug her forward until she stood at his side, then he tucked
her hand in his elbow instead.
And
then�just before he turned forward to face the White Wizard�the man winked at
her. Actually winked at her!
Just
like that, the spell was broken. The stranger in King�s finery suddenly became
the man that she knew, right before her eyes; the man who had kissed her
senseless the night before as they sat tucked away in a hidden garden, then
playfully teased her about it afterward.
Loth�riel
felt her cheeks heat, yet was suddenly hard pressed not to smile.
Mithrandir
motioned, and those behind them all sat down again. The tall man, garbed from
head to toe in painful white, let his eyes drift across the assembled in the
moment of silence that followed. Then he glanced at Eomer, and then to her.
When his eyes fell on her, his mouth curved into another one of those small,
knowing smiles. And suddenly Loth�riel didn�t feel near so nervous or afraid.
After
a moment he raised his arms high, and began speaking the traditional words of a
Rohirrim wedding ceremony, which was spoken entirely in Rohirric. While she might
have begun to pick up more and more words and phrases this past week, Loth�riel
still hadn�t learned enough to understand all of what was said. Yet she had
studied the ceremony enough to know the general idea of what was going on.
Therefore she wasn�t surprised when Elfhelm approached from one side, holding a
large golden goblet carved in the likeness of several animals, currently filled
with red wine. With the White Wizard murmuring the proper benediction
throughout, the goblet was given first to Eomer�who took a small sip�then to
her, to symbolize that they would now be �sharing� in whatever life might bring
in the future.
Elfhelm
stepped back, and then Erkenbrand appeared from the other side of the hall,
holding a long bit of cloth in his hand. The traditional binding ribbon of
Eomer�s family�and the royalty of Rohan�no doubt. It was obviously very old,
and very lovely; a long strip of deep emerald velvet stitched in white and
gold, with horses running down its length.
At
Mithrandir�s instruction, Loth�riel and Eomer turned to face one another. Eomer
held out his right hand, palm up, and Loth�riel immediately placed her much
smaller one atop it, palm down. And then Erkenbrand approached, carefully
winding the velvet ribbon around their clasped hands, three times over,
symbolically �binding� the couple together amidst Mithrandir�s Rohirric
blessing. Then all grew quiet again, and everyone turned to her.
This
had been the part that she�d been dreading. Knowing the traditions, Loth�riel
had been practicing her vows for months and praying that she wouldn�t shame
herself by murdering the pronunciation during the ceremony. At her small
hesitation, Eomer�s strong fingers gently rubbed across the inside of her
wrist, as if to comfort her. Drawing on his strength, she took a deep breath,
opened her mouth and then forced the words out. Surprisingly her voice shook
only a little, though she couldn�t bring herself to lift her eyes any higher
than his sun-kissed throat.
�N� �� n heorte, � licf�t, � ingemynd.
�r ��eltungol �styntan glowende, ic neo g��ed.�
Gandalf
smiled, nodding slightly and Loth�riel visibly loosened with relief, now that
the hardest part of this was behind her. Then the White Wizard turned to Eomer.
As the powerful Horse-Lord repeated the vows, Loth�riel thought about what they
really meant, and felt a small shiver race down her spine. Especially as
Eomer�s dark eyes were focused on hers and strayed nowhere else, his deep voice
rolling over her like a warm caress.
Now of one heart, one body, one mind.
Until the stars stop burning, I am sworn.
Mithrandir
nodded again, then murmured out a quick prayer of solemnity in elvish before
raising his arms high.
�Thus
do I now announce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride, Eomer King.�
Whatever
reservations Loth�riel might have had about kissing him in front of a room full
of people were promptly forgotten when the powerful lord used their still-joined
hands to tug her forward. His warm mouth settled over hers with a firm surety,
the other arm wrapping around her waist and bending her back slightly and
causing a thrill of sensation to lance through her belly. Loth�riel was so
engrossed into his kiss that she didn�t even hear the thunderous roar of
cheering that suddenly sounded, which threatened to take the very roof off of
the Golden Hall with it�s exuberance.
- 9
- 10
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Of Swans and Horses : Queen of the Riddermark