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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
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Chapter Two
Travel Woes
First Meeting
~~*~~

Blackroot Vale, Gondor
April 29^th of the year 3020
T.A.

�� It
was going to kill her. Loth�riel was now most sure of that fact.
�� She
was going to waste away before she ever set foot in the Mark. The young
Princess had never traveled so long or so far before in her life, and certainly
not without any respite along the way. There were no major settlements between
Dol Amroth and the Vale however. Her father would not have partaken in their
comforts even if there were, for he was eager to make their scheduled arrival on
time. Therefore it had been nearly two weeks since she had slept in a real bed
instead of a pallet on the ground, or been able to enjoy a real bath�not a
quick washing with whatever water was available. Loth�riel had not even been allowed
to enjoy the small pleasure of camping near the Blackroot River the night
before. Being so near the mountains that it sprang from, the water had been so
cold she couldn�t stand to submerse herself for longer than a few minutes
before she was forced to jump back out again or freeze solid.
�� Not
only that, she hurt from head to toe and was convinced that by the time she did
make it to Edoras, she would be reduced to a walking pile of bruises. Even with
the months of training she�d had before setting out, Loth�riel was still not
accustomed to being so long in the saddle, and she feared her sore rump would
never recover. She had strained and pulled muscles she didn�t even know she had.
As a result the young Princess was feeling decidedly less than her best.
�� Loth�riel
now hobbled her way over to where some of the men had made a makeshift water
trough using a bit of waterproof leather stretched over a wooden frame.
�� She
only managed a weary nod to one of the men who saluted her, instead bending
down and splashing a bit of the cool water onto her sweaty face. For all that
the temperature had begun a steady decline the farther north that they
traveled, it was still as yet warm enough to make hours in a saddle out beneath
the unforgiving sun an uncomfortable experience. She was in desperate need of
the refreshment.
�� Loth�riel
stared down at her broken reflection in the small pool for a moment afterward,
and sneered with distaste. She certainly looked a sore sight. Her black hair
had begun to come unraveled from its prim headdress of the morning, hanks of
the black coils falling this way and that down her back and in her face. Of
which was sweat-streaked and flushed. She felt horrible, and looked worse; just
the way she wanted to be when meeting her future husband for the first time,
she thought with a scowl.
�� Whatever
it is,� a warm voice suddenly called out from behind her, �I�m sure the water
didn�t mean it. Do not be so hard on the poor thing.� Loth�riel
straightened�wincing as the sudden movement reminded her of all the sore and
tired muscles in her back�then turned to see her grinning cousin standing only
a short distance away. Faramir chuckled at her disgruntled pout, which informed
him just how not amused she was by his teasing. As always, he continued undaunted
by her displeasure on the matter.
�� I
am sure whatever it did to displease you, it is very, very sorry.�
�� Oh
hush, you,� she muttered ungraciously. Weariness and discomfort, she was
learning, could sour even her supposedly unrelenting good nature. �I do not
find you in the least bit amusing,� she informed him primly, which of course
only made Faramir laugh the more. He didn�t look the least bit put off by their
long journey, as fresh and bright-eyed as he had been nearly two weeks ago. In
fact, besides herself, only Riana showed signs of weariness. And even she
wasn�t quite so bedraggled as Loth�riel was herself.
�� That
knowledge only served to sour her mood more.
�� Not
many do,� Faramir agreed pleasantly to her previous assessment.
�� Loth�riel
merely rolled her eyes, but refused to rise to the bait. She decided with a
bone-tired sigh that she was just too weary. Some of her fatigue must have
shown, for Faramir�s teasing smile dimmed a little and she soon found his
strong arm supporting her on one side.
�� Are
you truly unwell, Loth�?� he questioned then, tone concerned. She tried for a wobbly
smile.
�� I
will be fine, cousin,� she assured. �I am only tired. And sore. Some rest will rejuvenate
me, I think.�
�� He
helped her to her tent, then accompanied her inside. She thanked him for the
assistance, then let her tired frame plop down somewhat ungraciously onto her
pallet. After a moment he joined her, crouching down at her side. He was silent
for a moment, watching her undo the mess her hair had become. She had just
started pulling a metal-toothed comb through the tangles when Faramir spoke
again.
�� I
have not had much of a chance to talk to you about all that is happening,
Loth�riel,� he began slowly. �I won�t bother asking you whether or not this is what
you want. I doubt this is the future you ever envisioned for yourself.� His blue
eyes were sharp and discerning as he continued softly. �I only ask if you are
sure that you will be able to do this thing. I know you wish to please your
father and help the people of Rohan,� he added before she could speak. �Yet
this is no small task that has been set before you. Quite honestly, it is very
much to ask of one so young.�
�� Loth�riel
hesitated, then nodded. �I know how important this is,� she assured him, slowly
beginning to plait her thick hair into one large braid. �I do. And while I . .
. don�t really see myself as a very strong person, your wife has assured me
that she believes I am well-suited for the needs of her people.� She met his
sharp eyes steadily, with a confidence she hoped to one day actually feel
rather than feign. �Lady Eowyn believes that I will do well as the new Queen of
Rohan. And I . . . I promise to do my best to not let her down. Or anyone, for
that matter.�
�� And
what of yourself?� he demanded knowingly, and Loth�riel flinched ever so
slightly. Then she shrugged as she secured the braid with a bit of muslin and
then flipped the heavy mass over her shoulder to fall down her back and onto
the ground behind her.
�� I
keep no aspirations for myself. Only . . .� Here she fell silent, and Faramir
motioned encouragingly for her to continue. Loth�riel paused.
�� Besides
Riana, Loth�riel had always been the closest to her cousins, especially
Faramir. More so than her own brothers in fact, for Faramir was more of an age
with her and certainly more of the same gentle, scholarly mind. Though, the
strong and capable Boromir had been very dear to her heart as well, and even a
year later she still felt a pinch of pain at the thought of his passing. Yet,
if she could speak candidly to anyone of her feelings, it would be Faramir. And
so, though her cheeks heated and her voice became a touch more faint with embarrassment,
she finished her thought.
�� I
only hope that the King and I will suit, if even a little.�
�� She
glanced away and stared instead at the wall of her tent to ease the discomfort
of speaking so freely of such personal thoughts, so missed Faramir�s slight
smile.
�� I
was only seven when mother passed, but I remember well that she and father were
very close. And Elphir and Riana are well-matched as well, though they do not
always show it so clearly.� She turned back to her cousin and shared his smile.
�That is to say nothing of the affection I have seen develop between you and
your Lady.� At this Faramir grinned contentedly. She sighed, then. �I hold no
illusions of finding such a love for myself. Yet I will be content if the King
and I may become friends at least, if nothing else.�
�� Faramir
was silent for a moment, then, �from all that I have seen of Lord Eomer, I do
not think that yours shall be a wish too very hard to obtain. You are a very
likable person, Loth�,� he added at her skeptical glance, �and Eowyn�s brother
is a good man. Admittedly he can be a bit . . . intense, at times,� he added
carefully�ever the diplomat�then shrugged. �That is just the Rohirrim way, I
suppose. Theirs is a far different world than ours, as you�ve no doubt learned
for yourself. That is if the amount of books and scrolls missing out of the
Great Library is to be any sort of indication.�
�� Loth�riel
shared his chuckle, then hesitated. Yet she chose to heed her earlier decision
to trust Faramir�s confidence and eventually spoke again, though choosing her
words carefully.
�� Do
you think he will be very disappointed in me, Faramir? That I am . . . not very
much like his sister?� Faramir immediately snorted at that however, looking
repulsed.
�� What
man wishes to wed his sister?� Loth�riel scowled at his returning playfulness.
�� You
know what I mean, you rogue. That I am not strong or very brave. Amrothos and
Erchirion say Lord Eomer is a great warrior. That he killed two M�makil with only
one spear toss!�
�� Yes,
yes, and that he�s seven feet tall and can tear the head off an Orc with his
bare hands,� Faramir finished with a laugh. He gave his younger cousin a droll
look. �I have heard the tales, and your brothers love to exaggerate, especially
Amro.� He shook his head with another chuckle at her disgruntled scowl. �While
it is true that Lord Eomer is a great warrior, he is actually closer to six and
a half feet tall, not seven. And I seriously doubt that anyone could tear the
head off an Orc with his bare hands. Do not let them intimidate you with tales,
Loth�,� he admonished after a slight pause. �While no doubt brave and honorable,
Eomer is just a man. Just like any other. And contrary to popular belief, not
all ladies of Rohan are like my Eowyn,� he revealed at last with another grin.
�While it is true that many of them learn rudimentary skill with a blade in
order to protect themselves from the Wild Men and other dangers, they are not
all such fierce little warriors. I doubt Lord Eomer or his people will expect
you to snatch up a sword and help defend Meduseld should danger arise.�
�� She
chuckled with him at the thought of such a silly scenario, then sighed again
soon after. Faramir continued to amuse himself at the expense of her discomfort
for a short time, then took pity on her and stood.
�� I
will go and fetch Eowyn and see if she might have something to treat your saddle
bruises.� Loth�riel blanched however.
�� I
do not wish to be seen as weak,� she murmured, �especially to Lady Eowyn.�
Faramir waved away her protests.
�� She
will not see your pain as a weakness. In fact, everyone has been most impressed
with just how well you�ve held up so far, given the circumstances.�
�� Faramir
exited the tent soon after, and Loth�riel was left to wonder whether or not
what he�d said was to be seen as a compliment or not. It should have been, yet
strangely she felt a pinch of annoyance that everyone apparently thought so
little of her endurance. She shifted on the pallet, and had to bite back a
wince. Then she released a foul-humored chuckle. Well, then again, mayhap they
were not wrong to doubt.
�� As
it was, Eowyn entered her tent only moments later with a sympathetic smile and
a small jar of perfumed oil that she promised would work wonders on sore
muscles and saddle bruises. After helping care for her injuries, Eowyn left
again to go join Faramir for the evening meal�no doubt some forest fare that
their scouts had managed to procure earlier in the day. For her part, Loth�riel
wasn�t all that hungry. Instead she readied herself for bed and ended up
falling into an exhausted, near comatose slumber and missed the meal entirely.
�� The
next morning she was roused early and felt as though she�d gotten no rest at
all. Groggy and sore, she made no outward complaints as she dressed as quickly
as her deadened limbs would allow. Loth�riel managed to eat a little of the seedcake
rations that were offered for breakfast, but only a few mouthfuls. Unwitting of
her father�s slightly worried stare, Loth�riel instead dragged her weary body
back up into Gyldenfax�s saddle and tried to ignore her sore muscles� protest.
�� They
were supposed to reach the Black Stone of Erech some time today, or by early
tomorrow at the latest. Somewhere in the back of her tired mind Loth�riel hoped
that it was tomorrow�if just to give her one more day of reprieve�though with
every day that passed she found herself fearing her first meeting with her new
husband less and less. She was getting near to the point that she just might agree
to wed herself to the Black Lord Sauron himself if it meant a warm bath and a
soft bed to lie in for the next year and a half.
�� As
it was, around midday their outrider returned to the main of the group with the
news that the Stone of Erech was only an hour or so away and that Lord Eomer
waited there himself with a small contingent of riders.
�� It
had already been decided that many of the Swan Knights who had ridden with them
on the journey would remain behind at the entrance into the Paths of the Dead, and
instead await her family�s return after the wedding, since it would be
difficult for so many to traverse the underground road. Instead only a small part
of her father�s garrison and a small part of Lord Eomer�s �ored would
escort her down the road under the mountain, and then in Dunharrow they would
meet up with Rohan�s full Muster�who would then accompany them the rest of the
way to Edoras.
�� Loth�riel
felt a brief moment of panic, her hands flying up to her wind-bedraggled hair
and staring down at her travel-stained clothes in dismay. Yet she was simply
too tired to hold on to the taxing emotion for long, and gave up with a small
slump of her shoulders. Her newly-developed sourness reared its head with a thought;
why not let the man see her at her very worst? That way anything else she did
or became would only be an improvement. Besides, it would be ridiculous for Eomer
to expect her to look her best after traveling non-stop for two weeks.
�� At
least this was what she told herself, to gain what little bit of comfort she
could in the telling. Meager though it might be.
�� Loth�riel
nudged Gyldenfax up toward the front of their procession when Imrahil bade her,
and as they made the last turn of the slowly narrowing valley, she found
herself wedged firmly between her father�s horse and that of her cousin
Faramir. Her three brothers were directly behind, with Eowyn and Riana not far
behind that, surrounded on all sides by her father�s Knights.
�� Their
scout must have made himself known to the Rohirrim, for�even though there were
signs of recent encampment�when their procession arrived the riders were all
mounted, fully assembled and ready for travel. There were about ten of them in
total, all dressed in mail and leather and olive-green cloaks to ward away the
chill. Many of them wore helms, several adorned with crests and long white
tails, while others sported fierce-looking eye guards and other trappings that
only increased the wearer�s amount of intimidation. And given that every one of
them was very large and burly beneath their armaments, it seemed a rather moot
point to the increasingly nervous Loth�riel.
�� As
soon as they neared, one rider broke away from the rest. Immediately it was
apparent that he was a cut above the others in station and in bearing. The
billowing green cloak secured over the shoulder-guards of his leather armor bore
an intricate white and gold brocade down the edges compared to the plainer fare
of his fellows, and the high-necked collar of the tunic beneath his armor
boasted the same. His armor wasn�t especially fancy of make, instead well-worn
and obviously bearing use, yet it was finely polished�as though someone had
desperately attempted to bring back some of its former glory. Loth�riel took
one look at the man who wore it and quickly decided that it must not have been
him.
�� He
didn�t look the sort to care overmuch what his armor looked like, just so long
as it served its purpose.
�� The
stallion he rode was also a little fancier than his fellows. A massive
dapple-gray whose sheer size and lofty bearing showed his Mearas ancestry.
Much of his coat was a spotted charcoal gray and black�his long mane and tail
black as well�with his face a pale white-silver and patches of the same across
his spine beneath the impressive saddle and tack he sported. Yet Loth�riel
spared the mount only a brief acknowledgement in deference the man who sat
astride him. Her attention was very quickly rapt.
�� He
seemed huge and larger than life astride his great horse, his shoulders broad
and pulled back to a proud angle as he sat so comfortably in the saddle, as if
he�d been born there. He wore no helmet to hide his features, which she discovered
with a breathless hitch were very handsome indeed. She had almost hoped that
Eowyn and Amrothos had been exaggerating on that part as well. Yet she was to
find that the young King of the Rohirrim was as fiercely attractive in the
flesh as the tales gave him credit for.
�� He
had a strong jaw shadowed by a short and well-trimmed brown beard, heavy brows
of the same color pulled low over a set of dark eyes�the exact color she was
still too far away to see. What stood out the most to her however was his long
mane of golden-blonde hair, which fell down well past his shoulders in a riot
of unruly curls. Currently he had the top layers pulled back tight and secured
in the back, presumably in a simple tail to stay out of his face.
�� Lord
Eomer, King of the Riddermark, stopped his horse only a few lengths ahead of
his fellows and then sat waiting for them to arrive. His gaze was centered on
her and strayed nowhere else, his dark eyes intense and probing even from such
a distance. Under his perusal Loth�riel seemed to become painfully aware of her
every flaw at once, of each and every one of the dirt stains marring her face
and clothes, and of the strands of unkempt hair that had managed to find their
way free of their bindings. Her raw nerves frayed more with every step
Gyldenfax took toward her former master.
�� Her
father raised his hand and called a halt to their movement at last with only a
few feet standing between them. Prince Imrahil then started to call out
official greeting, but was abruptly interrupted.
�� Eomer!�
�� Everyone
turned to see Lady Eowyn, grinning widely, promptly launch herself out of
Windfola�s saddle and then race toward her brother�heedless of anyone else. For
all her harsh words about Lord Eomer and her annoyance concerning his betrothal,
her fierce love and affection for the man was plain for all to see as she gave
no thought to the chuckles that erupted on both sides due to her behavior.
�� And
it was a bond that was obviously shared, for at the very sound of her voice
Lord Eomer�s stern expression softened considerably and a small�though
warm�smile spread. Imrahil just shook his head and sighed with his own smile, while
Faramir chuckled outright. As they watched, the King of Rohan quickly dismounted,
with an ease and fluid skill that belied his familiarity with the action. He
then caught up his younger sister in a fierce bear-hug, spinning them both
about with a rich roll of laughter after she practically flung herself into his
arms.
�� Loth�riel
found herself smiling even through her cold knot of nerves. She suddenly realized
that it had been over half a year since the siblings had last seen each other.
Some of her apprehension began to ease away at the King�s open display of
affection for his sister. Surely a man who could care for his family so openly could
not be that frightening. So what if he towered over even Lady Eowyn, who was
more than several inches taller than herself? And so what if the King had swept
the blonde woman up off the ground as if she weighed no more than a feather,
and held her aloft for several moments without the slightest hint of strain?
�� The
siblings disengaged themselves after another moment, and Lady Eowyn gave a
somewhat breathless apology to everyone for her lapse in manners. Prince
Imrahil quickly assured her such was not necessary, then cleared his throat for
a more officious introduction.
�� My
Lord Eomer, it does me great pleasure to introduce you to my daughter at last,�
Imrahil then announced, and just like that, her tongue lodged itself to the
roof of her mouth and she forgot how to breathe as those dark eyes lifted from
his sister and centered on her again. �I give you Princess Loth�riel of Dol
Amroth.�
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Of Swans and Horses : Queen of the Riddermark