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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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter Four
All New Territory
~~*~~

Dunharrow, Rohan
April 30^th of the year
3020 T.A.

�� Someone
was trying to wake her up.
�� Loth�riel
didn�t want to. For the first time in what seemed like forever she was
comfortable again, warm and safe. It seemed like ages since she had slept, and
she wasn�t eager to let go of her newfound contentment. She gave a faint
moaning grumble, trying to tuck her face deeper into the soft, warm cloth that
served as her pillow. A pillow which�strangely enough�smelled of leather, horse
and another, spicy and masculine sort of scent that she couldn�t identify.
Loth�riel was still very deeply asleep however, so the oddity of that didn�t
quite register completely. Just a passing thought easily abandoned in the face
of her desire to reclaim her peaceful dreams.
�� Come
now, little one,� a deep, male voice suddenly murmured from somewhere very near
her ear, tinged with humor and faintly husky with something else. �Open your
eyes, or you will miss your first glimpse of the Riddermark.�
�� Very
slowly her eyes started to crack open, wondering dazedly all the while who was
in her bedroom speaking to her. It was not her father�s voice, and none of her
brothers had dared enter her bedchamber unannounced ever since she entered
adolescence. Bleary-eyed, slowly blinking away the last vestiges of sleep, she
stared up into a pair of warm green-brown hazel eyes only inches away and tried
to remember where and when she was.
�� Loth�riel
stared up blankly into the handsome face of Eomer King for a solid minute
before her memory finally returned in a rush. She stiffened with a gasp, eyes
widening with horror.
�� Oh
please, no . . . .
�� She
only had bits and pieces of memory about what had happened under the mountain.
She had been terrified to go into the Paths of the Dead, but was determined not
to appear weak before her father and, worse, the atrociously attractive King of
Rohan. As soon as the darkness had closed around her however, things had become
vague in her mind. She dully remembered fighting off the icy fingers of terror
for what seemed an eternity, of desperately resisting the sensation of the
walls closing in, of her breath shortening until it seemed as though there was
no air left for her to take. Yet eventually the strain had become more than she
could bear.
�� Loth�riel
didn�t remember a whole lot after that, only that she was sure she was going to
suffocate. And then she�d heard a voice, his voice. Calming the whirlwind of
panic that filled her mind. Bringing her back from the very brink of madness.
She dully remembered him pulling her out of Gyldenfax�s saddle after that,
wrapping her in his cloak. And against all logic, somehow that had helped. She
had closed her eyes tight as he�d bidden, and wished with all her might that
she was back in her spacious rooms in her father�s castle by the sea.
�� She�d
barely registered the two powerful arms wrapped around her then, or the huge
chest her face was buried into. She�d clung to the only solid thing in a world
of darkness and kept repeating her mantra over and over, mindless to anything
outside of her cocoon. Eventually, lulled by weariness and warmth, she must
have fallen asleep.
�� As
if everything else wasn�t bad enough. At least he didn�t seem disgusted with
her or angered. If anything, the young King looked thoroughly amused by her
sudden predicament. Although, truthfully, Loth�riel didn�t want to seem so amusing
to the man either, so his unexpected attitude could hardly be called an
improvement.
�� Oh
. . . I . . . please, I-I am sorry,� she started to stammer, starting to pull
up away from him with a wrench. The arm he had wrapped around her back
tightened into the resolve of steel however, keeping her still.
�� Easy,
princess,� he murmured, voice low. �Wouldn�t want you to fall. And Firefoot�s
not so used to bearing two, take care not to move too suddenly.�
�� Instantly
she froze, respecting the need not to spook the powerful stallion. Yet her eyes
widened again.
�� Gyldenfax!
Is she�,�
�� The
mare is perfectly fine,� he cut her off with another of those slight�almost
uncertain�smiles. Almost as if he did not have much practice in it. Loth�riel
wasn�t sure where that sudden assessment had come from, though the thought of
it saddened her in a way she couldn�t explain. �One of my riders led her safely
through the Dark Door,� he assured. �We have come through the Dimholt, and will
be arriving soon in Dunharrow. I thought you might like to be awake to see it
for the first time.�
�� At
this, Loth�riel became aware of her surroundings outside of her current perch.
They had indeed emerged back out into open air, a fact for which she was most
grateful. She prayed with a faint shudder that she would never again be forced
to take that road. The air was colder now than it had been on the other side of
the White Mountains, especially as dusk was fast approaching, the sun hovering
low on the horizon. She was suddenly glad for the extra warmth of the huge
green cloak she was still wrapped up in.
�� Loth�riel
carefully straightened enough so that she could see out and around her�and to
pull herself from such close, intimate contact with the man she rode with.
Granted, he wore full leather and mail and she was bundled up in several layers
herself. Yet for all that, she was still very aware of the fact that she sat
practically in the lap of a man she shared no blood ties with. The steady
rocking motions of their mount�s gait didn�t let her forget it either.
�� She
was still largely innocent, but she wasn�t a fool either. Loth�riel was also
very unaccustomed to being in such close proximity to a man. Of course, now
would be the time she would become so aware of everyone else that surrounded
them. Riders of Rohan as well as her own family and a handful of her father�s
men. All of whom seemed unnecessarily interested in her return to
consciousness. Elphir cast her a disapproving look from where he rode several
lengths away, face dark, while her father�s expression remained curiously
neutral.
�� Loth�riel
felt her cheeks turn hot even in the crisp air, and prayed everyone mistook the
color for the wind�s bite and not her sudden, acute embarrassment. She made a
desperate grab for her composure, and did her ultimate best to appear calm and
at ease. Yet she squirmed a little in an attempt to put a little more distance
between herself and the King, where their bodies were currently wedged so tight
they seemed as one being. Yet, as soon as she moved, she felt his whole body
tense and a he hissed in a curiously sharp breath.
�� Immediately
she froze again, her eyes flying up to meet his, wondering what she�d done
wrong. Thinking she might have somehow hurt him, for his gasp had seemed
somewhat pained. Their gazes met and held, and Loth�riel was fascinated�though
confused�by the way his dark eyes suddenly seemed to smolder into a hot
black-brown. She didn�t know why, but the heated look he was giving her
suddenly made her breath hitch and her face grow warmer.
�� Careful
now, princess,� he murmured after a tense moment and a slight clearing of his
throat. His voice seemed different now too. Deeper . . . almost hoarse. �We are
almost to the clearing.�
�� Loth�riel
pulled her eyes away and stared ahead instead, deciding that staring up into
his handsome face was far too dangerous by half. By the Valar, she would have
to guard herself closely in the coming weeks, she decided then. While she
wished to find some common ground with the young King on which to build a
friendly relationship, she did not want to fall head first into some pathetic
infatuation doomed to remain unrequited either. A fate which his golden good
looks was fast in danger of creating, if the way she was suddenly feeling was
to be interpreted.
�� She
focused on the land around her instead. Already she could see changes. Trees
were sparse compared to the Gondorian side of the mountain, the grass thinner
on a whole with random spots of denser golden-brown thickets.
�� Very
soon they entered into a wide clearing, filled with large white tents, men and
horses. Many yelled out greeting to Eomer, which he returned warmly. Obviously
these were the rest of his �ored, who had awaited his return from under
the mountain. She did her best to smile and greet those who called out to her,
trying to ignore the fact that she was being weighed and measured most
carefully by her soon-to-be husband�s men.
�� They
continued through the camp. Loth�riel had become quite engrossed with examining
her surroundings, enough so that she hardly noticed when their companions slowed
and dropped back. Continuing alone, the King guided Firefoot right up to the
edge of the cliff. Loth�riel gasped, eyes widening, at her first true glimpse
of the land that was to become her new home.
�� Welcome
to the Mark, my lady,� Eomer murmured softly.
�� It�s
so beautiful,� she whispered, almost to herself, and meant it. The land stretched
out before her like an immense golden sea, as far as her eye could discern. �I
had read of the vastness of the grasslands,� she continued eagerly, almost
forgetting to whom she spoke in her excitement, �but I had never dreamed of the
truth.� She turned back to find Eomer staring at her, not of the incredible
vista before them. He had that hot look back in his eyes, tempered now by a
softness in his expression that immediately brought back her
self-consciousness. She dropped her eyes away again and cleared her throat
somewhat. �The books of the Great Library do no justice to your lands, sire,�
she announced after another uncomfortable moment. �It is truly magnificent.�
�� I
am glad to hear it,� he returned finally, and the sound of his voice eased some
of her discomfort. �Also that you have apparently taken such an interest in the
Riddermark. Faramir wrote to me that you had set to the task of familiarizing
yourself with your new home with an . . . impressive dedication.�
�� The
faint note of humor that returned in his tone told her just how much of her
somewhat obsessive reading habits her traitorous cousin had revealed. She�d gut
him for sure, for this. While a furiously blushing Loth�riel struggled to come
up with something to fill the gap of silence, Eomer spoke instead.
�� I
was quite pleased to learn that you can both read and write with ease,� he
announced. �Not many in my country can boast of this, unfortunately. How many
languages do you know?�
�� Loth�riel
kept her eyes on the setting sun, finding it much easier to stare at while she
spoke, giving an honest accounting of her knowledge. �I can speak, read and
write Westron as well as Quenyan and Sindarin Elvish fluently. I have also
taught myself enough Rhovannion to translate simple words and runes, though
without the tutoring of a native speaker, I could never speak or write it
clearly. And I have learned a handful of Rohirric words in this same fashion
through my studies.�
�� Here
she trailed off. Eomer was utterly silent behind her, and she swallowed somewhat
nervously. Perhaps she should not have been so blunt. No doubt Eomer could
probably only read and write Westron, and even that was a rarity among his
people. She had probably come off sounding self-important and snobby.
�� Though,
no doubt I murder the pronunciation,� she quickly inserted. �I-I am really only
truly fluent in Westron . . . a-and perhaps Quenyan.�
�� It
seems I am to wed a true scholar,� he murmured after a moment. The tone of his
voice was neutral, but Loth�riel was too afraid to look back and see what
emotion would be mirrored in his hazel brown eyes. �You should not try to diminish
yourself, little one,� he continued firmly after a slight pause. �Your
intelligence is a rare gift, one I truly hope my sons might share in.�
�� At
the mention of sons�the creation of which she would be intimately involved in�Loth�riel
felt her face turn scarlet. Yet Eomer continued, seemingly oblivious, his voice
a little faraway now. As if he spoke his inner thoughts aloud.
�� The
Kingdom of Rohan can no longer afford to remain so secluded and withdrawn. Too
long have we concerned ourselves only with the Mark and its troubles and
ignoring all else. If anything, the War of the Ring has taught me that. Renewing
the Oath of Eorl was a start, but there are many changes yet to see to, if the
Rohirrim are to survive the coming Age.�
�� The
knowledge that she would have a very large part to play in that task was a
daunting one indeed. Yet one that filled her with pride also, so that her
shoulders pulled just a little straighter, her chin lifting. They were suddenly
interrupted out of their moment by a large blonde, bearded Rohirrim man, one
who had not accompanied his King under the mountain. He approached slowly, his
posture hesitant.
�� My
Lord, Prince Imrahil inquires after the well-being of his daughter,� the man
murmured, his deep voice powerful but pitched softly in deference.
�� Loth�riel
tensed at the reminder of her father. Eomer sighed. �Very well, Gamling,� he
heaved.
�� The
man bowed sharply, then turned on his heel and retreated back into the press of
camp. The barest of nudges from Eomer and a sharp click of his tongue had
Firefoot turning smartly about and trotting back the way they had come.
�� In
due time Firefoot was pulled to a stop in front of one of the larger tents,
only slightly smaller than the massive pavilion that must be Eomer�s own.
�� Do
you think you are well enough to stand?� he questioned. When she nodded, he
continued with, �hold fast to the horn.�
�� When
she�d taken hold of the saddle as he bid her, the King shifted his cloak from
around her shoulders, and then in the next breath he was down on the ground at
Firefoot�s side. How he managed to make it look so easy she would never know. Just
the thought of trying to get down from this great beast�s back on her own was
enough to cleave her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Lucky for her the young
King had no such intention.
�� Not
waiting for her father or brothers near by, Eomer issued out a sharp order to
his stallion in Rohirric�causing the massive horse to go as still as a statue�then
reached up and took her around the waist with both hands. His fingers nearly
touched each other in the small of her back. She was given no time to ponder
the strange thrill of that, as in the next breath he literally plucked her off
the saddle as easily as one might have lifted a daisy from the grass. Startled,
she immediately reached out to grasp at his upper arms for purchase.
�� By
the Valar, I hope most of these bulges are from the armor, she thought,
once again struck somewhat breathless.
�� Eomer
carefully�and effortlessly�lowered her down, until her booted feet were planted
back on the ground again at last. It was a long way to travel, and Loth�riel
stared up at him with widened eyes. The top of her head barely reached his
collarbone. She had chafed somewhat at his calling her �little one,� yet it
seemed he was entitled.
�� She
let go of his arms as soon as she was safely aground, though he was a little slower
in releasing her hips, as if he were reluctant to do so. Yet when Elphir
suddenly appeared at her side, Eomer let her go completely and took a step
back.
�� Rest
tonight, princess,� he bade firmly. �We will start later in the morning
tomorrow so that you can be properly recovered. And should you suffer from
anything else on the journey, you will let your father or myself know
immediately.�
�� Loth�riel
frowned a little at the sudden, commanding tone he had taken. Elphir took
exception to it too, if his sudden low-pitched growl of irritation was any
indication. Eomer didn�t pay her older brother any mind however, keeping his
eyes on her.
�� She
started to tell him that she was not made of glass, and that she needed no such
protective coddling. Then she took in his stubbornly resolute stare and decided
that butting heads with him would be a moot point. Besides, it was not as if
she had given him any other impression after the underground tunnel fiasco. So instead
she nodded obediently to his wishes and said nothing. Pleased with that, Eomer
hesitated only a moment more to indulge in a fierce glare with Elphir,
curiously enough, before he turned on his heel and walked away. A murmured word
in Rohirric had Firefoot trailing after his master as obediently as a well-trained
hound.
�� Oh
Loth�!� She turned to see Riana hurrying toward her. Her sister-in-law engulfed
her in a hug, and she laughed slightly but returned the embrace. �I was so
worried! Are you all right? I cannot believe you did not say something about your
fears!�
�� I
had hoped it would not be a problem,� she answered apologetically. �I did not
know I would react so badly. I am sorry.�
�� You
do not need to apologize, child,� her father contradicted, reaching out to tenderly
brush her hair out of her face once Riana had loosed her. His gray eyes were
kind, but stern as well as he continued with, �though King Eomer is right. You
will not keep such things a secret in the future.�
�� Yes
father,� she immediately agreed. Elphir let out another foul-humored growl at
the mention of King Eomer, however.
�� Not
that he has any right to say so,� he snapped.
�� Loth�riel
was slightly taken aback by the amount of venom in his voice, but Imrahil just
shook his head while Riana laughed and wrapped an arm around her husband.
�� You
will have to learn to let go of this protectiveness, dearest,� she murmured
playfully, much to his foul-humored glare. �Loth� is soon to be a wife, a woman
of her own, and a Queen. You cannot keep her to yourself forever.�
�� Until
the ceremony is over with,� he announced stiffly, �she is still a Princess of
Dol Amroth, and father�s daughter. That horse-lord would do well to
remember it. He treats her far too familiarly.�
�� What,
you would prefer he not look at or speak to her at all until after the
wedding?� Erchirion demanded incredulously, and Amrothos laughed.
�� Aye,
that would make for a warm marriage bed indeed.�
�� All
right, you two,� Imrahil cut in firmly.
�� Suddenly
I fear for poor Finuviel,� Riana murmured, �when she comes of age to begin
drawing suitors. She will probably die an old maid, if her father has anything
to say about it.�
The
next Princess of Dol Amroth just giggled unrepentantly in the face of her
scowling husband, her humor not in the very least intimidated by his black
looks. She was probably the only one other than his father who could claim
such. Even Erchirion and Amrothos�who were known to be some of the most
fearless hellions Gondorian nobility had ever seen�would only push Elphir so
far. Slender Riana remained completely unfazed by him.
�� Not
for the first time, Loth�riel marveled at the relationship between her often
dour and sullen brother and the light-hearted Riana. They seemed so different,
and yet they were so in love with one another�proof being their three year old
son and nine month old daughter. For as much as she teased him relentlessly,
the fierce spark of affection never left Riana�s green eyes when she gazed up
at her husband. And in the times when Elphir thought no one was looking, he
would stare at his slender wife with an expression that could only be likened
to utter devotion on his face.
�� Loth�riel
let Riana guide her into the tent. She was quick to shed her heavy layers, down
to her thin white chemise, and then washed what she could of the dirt away with
the cloth and basin of water that Riana produced. Meanwhile her sister-in-law
helped undo her ruined coiffure and gently worked out the tangles.
�� The
food that was brought in later by her father and brothers was simple but warm
and very filling. For Loth�riel, who hadn�t eaten well since yesterday morning,
it was heavenly. Wrapped in a warm blue fur-lined robe, she thoroughly enjoyed
the playful banter that passed back and forth between her family. She watched
it all largely silent from her perch, taking in the scene and committing every
detail to memory. It would be one of the last times she would see them all
together like this, she well knew. And memories like these would be what would
help her get through the months ahead, filled with doubt and uncertainty. Those
fears could wait for another day, however. For now she was safe and warm and
well-fed, and surrounded by those she loved.
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Of Swans and Horses : Queen of the Riddermark