"There my heart is longing for,
All for
The Love of You..."

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It was early afternoon over the plains of Rohan, and a large company from Dol Amroth was making it's way to Edoras. At it's head rode Imrahil, as tall and proud as ever, at his right side rode his son, of a much merrier countenance then was seen on the road to Mordor, so long ago. At the left of Imrahil, rode no one, for it had been his niece's place ever since the fall of his nephew. But for now, Lothiriel, now nearly twenty years old, was making a show of being the traditional maiden of Dol Amroth, on the road to meet her bridegroom.

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?" Lothiriel asked wistfully of her aunt, who rode at her side a ways behind Imrahil. Deliann smiled at her niece, whose face was turned to the mild breeze, long dark hair flowing behind her, looking so like an elf lady of old.

"Well, I am more of a sea-lover myself, but yes, it is quite lovely." The Lady of Dol Amroth nodded, gazing out at the swaying green grasses under the midsummer's eve sun.
"And all to be yours, on the morrow." Lindenna spoke with a smile from Lothiriel's other side, her son riding on her lap, now a year old. "A year of betrothal, and I still cannot get over it. Little Lothy to be a Queen." Lothiriel just shook her head, blushing slightly. "Is it true that King Elessar will come?"

"No, alas." Lothiriel replied. "And he was most distressed that he wouldn't be there to see his friend and ally wed, but the Queen Arwen has entered her confinement...she will be giving birth at any time now."
"It is well that he is in Minas Tirith then." Deliann nodded. Then she sighed contentedly. "Oh that these days should be such merry ones, fruitful and full of love and goodness."
"I agree." Lothiriel murmured, smiling softly. Then she let out a gasp as the company came up over a crest, and there was Edoras, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld set before them. Imrahil turned in his saddle, after gazing upon the sight for the first time since he was a boy, and looked at his niece with a twinkle in his grey eyes.
"Well, Lady Lothiriel, what do you think of it?" He called back to her. She smiled broadly.
"I find I like it quite well, Uncle." She replied.
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They rode through the gates of Edoras, The Royal Family and their entourage, to much celebration. Soldiers of Rohan flanked the road that went through the city, and women and children called greeting and threw flowers to their future Queen in true merry Midsummer fashion. Lothiriel smiled joyously through it all, though her nerves were all a flutter. Then she looked up, to see Eowyn standing before Meduseld, the golden crowned White Lady of Ithilien smiling down at her, and her fears calmed for a time.

They all of them dismounted before The Golden Hall, Imrahil making a show of helping his niece dismount, smiling as she hurried to embrace Eowyn.

"Did I not tell you I would have her here in time for your wedding, cousin?" A voice behind them spoke with a laugh, and Eowyn turned from their tight embrace to lightly slap Faramir.
"Don't let him say a word of it, we only barely arrived late this morning." She said, laughing. "Oh Lothiriel, it's been too long since we bid farewell at my wedding! You look well."
"And you, Eowyn." Lothiriel smiled, taking a deep breath, nerves returning. "How is Eomer?"
"Absolutely unbearable to live with ever since he realized he would not be seeing you until tomorrow, as is out tradition." She rolled her eyes, and then hugged her soon-to-be sister again. "I am so excited Lothy, you have no idea." She practically giggled, and Lothiriel joined her. "But I am forgetting myself!"

With that, the White Lady of Ithilien turned to Rohan's guests quite composed, yet smiling full still, opening her arms wide. "My brother, King of Rohan bids you all welcome." She said aloud, "In the tradition of our people, the bride and bridegroom do not see each other for the week before the wedding day, and so he is not here to greet you. But he will indeed greet all but his bride tonight. For now come, and take rest in the rooms prepared for you!"
"Lady Eowyn, your people's hospitality is most welcome and praised." Imrahil replied and bowed most formally, and then he smiled back at his nephew's bride, embracing her briefly. "After last year I did not think there could ever be a better Midsummer time, but now I know there can." He looked at Lothiriel, emotion very free on his face, which was a rare thing indeed. "We shall have fine days all together."
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Lothiriel was given a comfortable room to refresh in, and she fell upon the fur-spread wooden bed with a glad sigh. She felt as if she could sleep forever after her long road, but she knew she wouldn't like waking in her dusty traveling dress. So she rose after a moment, and just as she was pulling her dress off from over her white shifts, there was a knock on the door.
"Yes?" She called, and in stepped a young girl of maybe 10 or 11, with bright blonde hair, a warm smile and a large steaming pitcher in her hands.
"The Lady Eowyn sent me, she thought you might like a bath, my Lady." She gave a little bow, and Lothiriel smiled, thankfully.
"Yes, I would very much like that." She replied, and the girl smiled wider, and stepped over to a screen in the far right corner of the room from the door.
As she heard the young girl pour the water into another large basin, Lothiriel brushed out her long hair, staring out at Edoras below her window as she did so. And then the fields of endless grass beyond it...tomorrow, she would be the Queen of it all. The girl was singing softly now, and Lothiriel thought it nice...

"What is your name, young maid?" she asked, turning to look toward the screen.
"Freda, my Lady, daughter of Morwen." The young girl smiled, stepping from the corner. "Your bath is ready."
"Thank you very much." Lothiriel sighed, smiling. "I've been riding for so long! Will you help me with the ties of my shift?"
Freda bounded over to comply, with the oh so very important task of attending her future Queen. Lothiriel turned, and Freda expertly undid the ties, looking at her long dark waves of hair thoughtfully. "Your hair is very pretty my Lady...I mean, I've only ever seen dark hair on the Wild Men..." She shuddered, "But yours...it's beautiful."

"Well, thank you, Freda." Lothiriel replied, pulling off her shift, and stepping behind the screen to slip into the warm water with a contended sigh. "My father was from Rohan, but my mother was from the Seaside Halls, where all the people have fine dark hair."
"Will you tell me of the sea?" Freda asked excitedly, sitting on the bed. Then quickly sobered. "I'm sorry, you're probably tired and want to rest..."
"No, it is all right..." Lothiriel smiled softly, shutting her eyes, letting the water soak into her weary bones. "I like to talk about it...the ocean...it is very much like the grass, rolling in waves and waves to meet the sky...."
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After she'd slept the afternoon away, Lothiriel was roused by her new little handmaiden that evening. She changed into one of the fine blue summer gowns she'd brought with her from Dol Amroth, and let Freda comb out her dark hair to fall freely about her.
"You look beautiful, my lady." Freda said with wide eyes, and Lothiriel was so moved by the little girl of Rohan that she kissed her brow.
"Well then, I shall have to let you brush my hair tomorrow, when I finally see my groom." Lothiriel grinned, and Freda smiled happily, taking her hand and leading her from her room, toward the Great Hall.

Only the women were present there, Eowyn and Deliann and Lindenna, and various ladies of Rohan and Dol Amroth and Gondor. The only man present was little Adrehil, on his mother's lap.
"The men all take dinner with Eomer in the stables, which are a Mead Hall in their own right." Eowyn informed Lothiriel with a grin, "And if I know my brother, he is taking a break from moping at not seeing you to play some childish trick on his brother in law."

Lothiriel sat among them, taking her cousin's son on her lap as she ate, only half aware of the conversation around her. Her eyes were taking in Meduseld, taking in the banners and tapestries and golden knotting in the sturdy walls and floors. Taking in the Kingly throne, and the banners behind it. Her heart gave a jump to see the Banner of The Shared Sword there, that had been made in Minas Tirith after word of her deeds had been made known, along with her betrothal to the Rohirrim King. Hanging now in his Hall...her new home. She was glad, at the same time she was all nerves and unsettled thoughts and...

"Your hands are shaking." Deliann murmured in her ear, with a small smile. Lothiriel looked at her hands...she was right. She passed Adrehil to his grandmother with a small blush.
"I was just thinking..." She gulped. "It barely entered my thoughts when I left, that I would not ever come back to Dol Amroth as if it were my home."
"Oh Lothiriel!" Deliann reach to hug her tightly with one arm. "I understand, and I will miss you! But you have done well by Dol Amroth for sure, and look around you..." Deliann grinned. "What a home to call your own from now on."

Lothiriel looked up to the golden roof above, smiling softly again. She imagined her father sitting where she did now, listening to his own father and Eomund and Theoden speak together..."Yes." She nodded. "I do not think I will be so very homesick." She grinned. "Not with the sea right outside."
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Dawn of Midsummer came clear and bright over Rohan, and Lothiriel was up to greet it. She stood for a while, in the small room for guests that had been hers, watching the sky grow brighter and brighter as the sun came closer to rising. Her last morning as a maiden from Dol Amroth, her last waking alone. She remembered a night two years before, which now did not seem so very long ago. When she had sat on the pale sandy dunes before the Seaside Halls, Edemer with an arm around her, as she bemoaned her lack of suitors. The night had been so beautiful, the stars low in the sky, lanterns casting an ethereal glow behind them. And he had told her all would be well, that she would find love true.

"You were right, big brother." She whispered to the dawn, smiling. "How I wish you were here to see...but then, you do see me, I know this. And you're probably having a good laugh at how nervous I am, as is your way."

Then Eowyn was there, to help her with a beautiful white gown, made with Lothiriel's own hands over the year she'd been engaged. As promised, Freda brushed out her long hair, and Eowyn twisted flowers through it to crown her head, and with them a filmy, almost liquid-looking veil that flowed behind her. "A gift." Eowyn explained, "From Queen Arwen, she made it herself."
"I thought it looked quite Elvish." Lothiriel grinned, looking behind her to play with the delicate thing.
"And this..." Eowyn went on, pressing something into her hand, "Is a gift from myself."
Lothiriel looked, to see what looked like a silver necklace, worked in intricate yet delicate knots, and set with three star-like flowers. "It's mithril." Eowyn told her, and Lothiriel gasped. "In true Dwarven fashion, Gimli told me on my wedding day that anything I required of The Dwarves, he would see to granting. I asked him to make me a Queenly gift to give my brother's bride."

Overcome, Lothiriel reached out to embrace her. "I thank you, sister." She managed, and gave the necklace to a dazzled Freda to clasp about her neck. The little girl did so, and the fair jewels looked right at home on the future Queen's graceful neck. Eowyn stepped back to look at her.

"You look beautiful." She breathed, then took up her hand. "Well, I guess now we go to the Hall!"
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Horns played outside of Meduseld, as Lothiriel of Dol Amroth stood, waiting to walk through the Hall to where she would be wed, before the steps that led to the throne. She looked up, as two little girls from Dol Amroth and two from Rohan threw flowers in the path she would walk between the hosts of guests who stood watching. For the first time in almost a year, she saw Eomer, gazing at her as if caught up in a dream. He looked grand and handsome, in his kingly armor and finest cape and boots and golden crown. Once he'd adjusted to the ethereal being she'd seemed to become, all in white and gossamer and summer flowers and a sword at her hip, he smiled at her in that familiar, open, loving way she'd fallen for. Her nerves left her for good then, and she smiled back, as Imrahil took her arm and led her to her bridegroom.

Imrahil brought her to face Eomer, still holding her arm, and the two to be wed gazed at each other with a smile. Eowyn stood by Lothiriel, and Faramir by Eomer. And then came the Priestess of Rohan, standing before the throne, her graying golden hair crowned with flowering thistle branches.

"Who comes here, to be given to our King in ceremony?" She spoke, smiling at Imrahil. "And who brings her?"
"Lothiriel of Dol Amroth comes here, daughter of Eodier and Lethemine." Imrahil replied, "I, Prince of Dol Amroth and her Uncle, present her to this King, and to his country."
"It is well." The Priestess bowed her head, and Imrahil turned, to kiss his niece's cheek. She smiled at him, squeezing his hand, before he stepped back, to stand by his wife, and the family of his son. Lothiriel turned, to face Eomer, who took her hand in his, smiling at her, before they both looked up to the Priestess.

"Do you two come before this host, and the hosts of heaven, to pledge to each other love true and steadfast, unbreaking and unwavering?" She asked.
"We do." They said in unison. The Priestess nodded.
"Then you will now exchange swords, one to another."

With that, Eomer took from his scabbard the ancestral blade of Rohan. It was not the one passed from king to king, no, it was far older, far larger, passed along from the days of Eorl. He held it aloft for a moment, for the people to see it's faded golden hilt, it's blade marked with stars. And then he handed it to Lothiriel, their hands holding it together between them. "I give you this sword," He spoke, "to save for our sons..." He smirked, "And daughters to have and to use, and for you to guard the Hearth of our Home."

Lothiriel smiled, knowing he had added 'daughters' just for her, who was known for her riding at the Black Gate. She passed the mighty sword carefully to Eowyn, who set it aside. Then Lothiriel drew the sword at her own side, which was indeed the Sword of The Kings of Rohan, that had been Theoden's, then Eomer's. She had asked that it be given to her that morning, for this purpose, knowing Eomer would think it put away safely during his wedding. She handed it to Eomer, and again they held it between them.
"To keep us safe, you too must bear a blade." She spoke, "With this sword keep safe our Children, our Country and our People."

Eomer smiled, with tears threatening to come...the swords used in the ceremony were almost always symbolic, never ones that the wedded pair actually bore. That she had gone through the trouble to use his own...it touched him deeply. He slipped the sword into his scabbard.

The Priestess smiled at them. "Now, kneel before each other." They did so, and Eowyn took her cue, walking over from Lothiriel's side to stand by Eomer. She took up his hands, and placed them in Lothiriel's, palms up.

"These are the hands, young and strong and vibrant with love, that are holding yours on your wedding day." Eowyn spoke, smiling. "As he promises to love you all the days of his life. These are the hands, though they look large and worn with work, that will hold your first child with tender care. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you throughout the years, for a lifetime of happiness. These are the hands that will always be there to wipe tears from your eyes, tears of sorrow, tears of joy. These are the hands that will comfort you in times of illness, and hold you when fear or griefs wrack your mind. These are the hands that will gently lift your face to look into his eyes; eyes that are completely filled with love for you."

Lothiriel broke away from the gaze of Eomer for a moment, as he did, to smile at Eowyn in thanks. And then Faramir came forward, glancing down at Lothiriel for a moment as he took up her hands. They spoke without words...he knew he was here to do the job that was rightly her brother's...but she was most glad he was here. He smiled, and then presented her hands, palms up, to Eomer.

"These are the hands, smooth, young and carefree, that are holding yours on your wedding day." He said, and Eowyn was proud at how well he'd memorized it. "As she pledges her love and commitment to you all the days of her life. These are the hands that will hold each of your children with tender care, soothing them through illnesses and hurts, encouraging them on their way, and knowing when it is time to let them go. These are the hands that will soothe your own self, after you have ridden hard on long days. These are the hands that will embrace you as you struggle through difficult times, they are the hands that will comfort you when you are sick, console you when you are grieving. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you throughout the years, for a lifetime of happiness. These are the hands that will hold you in joy and excitement and hope. These are the hands that will support you in your way, that your every dream together will be realized."

Faramir stepped away, and the bride and groom clasped hands tightly, repeating every word and thought with their eyes, fixed on each other.

"Now rise." The Priestess said, smiling, lifting her hands in an arch. "And exchange rings and vow together."

Lothiriel turned to Eowyn, who handed her the golden-knotted ring that had been made in Dol Amroth for this day. She turned to her groom, smiling, and placed it on his finger.

"By seed and root, by bud and stem, by leaf and flower and fruit, by sword and stone, by the ancient waves and the steadfast grasses, by life and by love, I take thee to my hand, my heart and my spirit, at the setting of the sun and the rising of the stars." She spoke the words clearly, having branded them upon her heart, and Eomer saw this in her eyes. "Nor shall death part us, for in the ripeness of time we shall meet, and know, and remember, and love again. Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone, I here, thou there, yet both as one."

Eomer then took the silver ring from Faramir, that had been made for Lothiriel in Rohan, and placed it on her finger.

"By seed and root, by bud and stem, by leaf and flower and fruit, by sword and stone, by the ancient waves and the steadfast grasses, by life and by love, I take thee to my hand, my heart and my spirit, at the setting of the sun and the rising of the stars. Nor shall death part us, for in the ripeness of time we shall meet, and know, and remember, and love again. Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone, I here, thou there, yet both as one." He took her newly ringed hand, and brought it to his lips briefly, before they turned back to the Priestess, who was simply beaming.

"Now yet, there is one more thing we must do, as this be the Wedding Day of our King." And with that, those who watched and listen from outside gave a cheer. The Priestess turned to the throne, picking up a delicate yet strong and well-made crown, knotted in the Rohirrim way.

"Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, in the binding of yourself to Our King, do you vow to be Our Land's Queen, to hold it's people and it's interests close to your heart, as you keep your husband, for all of your days?"
"I do." Lothiriel replied clearly and with strength, for she felt those two words with all of her heart. The Priestess bowed, speaking with barely contained joy.
"Then by the earth and by your heart and by the throne, I crown you Queen of Rohan, wife to our King. You are as one together." She set the crown upon Lothiriel's dark head with a brilliant smile.

From outside, one of Eomer's soldiers gave a mighty 'whoop'! And all of Meduseld followed in cheering and rejoicing. The Priestess bid them seal their vows with a kiss, but none heard, save they two. Eomer drew his wife to him and kissed her softly, embracing her, as flowers rained down around them.... .
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All that day the feasting went on, in Meduseld and in every home in Rohan, be it in Edoras or in the plains. All were celebrating the midsummer union of their young King and his lovely bride, who was known by every farmer as a beauty, and every farmer's wife as a heroine.

Lothiriel, upon surveying her guests while she and Eomer sat to evening's feast, realized with a glad cry that the Hobbits Merry and Pippin had come, Merry proudly wearing his old armor of Rohan, Pippin his of Gondor. They brought her gifts of fine cloth and herbs from The Shire, and plenty of tall tales with them, to which she listened with rapt...and amused...attention. She congratulated Merry on his engagement to a Hobbit lass named Estella, and promised to send fine gifts to them both.

And so the merrymaking went on, Imrahil and Deliann holding hands and looking on with contented hearts, as the young danced, Imrahir and Lindenna, Faramir and Eowyn, Eomer and Lothiriel. Imrahil was reminded of another dark-haired young lass, who married a golden haired Rohirrim, in not quite so grand a fashion, but with as much joy as he saw on his niece's face.

After a time, when the stars had been long in the sky, Lothiriel stepped away from the dancing and feasting and music, to stand in the cool air outside of The Golden Hall. She watched the grasses under the moonlight, and she smiled, shutting her eyes. A pair of strong arms wound around her waist then, long blond hair mingling with her dark.

"What are you thinking of, my bride?" Eomer asked in a murmur, and she sighed, shutting her eyes to the feel of his embrace.
"I was just thinking...." She told him wistfully, "Of what my father would say to me now."
"I think he would be most proud." Her husband replied, "To see you happy, and helping to lead his people."
"Alongside the son of his father's friend." Lothiriel smiled. "It seems, my love, that all things have worked to a good end indeed."
"Yes?" Eomer pulled back, turning to take both her hands, to look into her eyes. She nodded.
"I may be the last of my family..." She said seriously. "But now, even if I had never loved you first, I would be under the banner of your Friend." She looked at their linked hands. "So even as you are my one love, I am loyal friend to you, by Oath of my father and grandfather."
"And your brother." Eomer nodded, smiling softly. "It seems all does work to a good end, my Lothy." He drew her to him then, and they were thus for a few moments together, embraced, King and Queen.

"Now..." Eomer spoke again after a time, and Lothiriel grinned at his tone. "How about we give this fine day a good end as well?"
"How very ungentlemanly." Lothiriel pretended to scoff, but could not keep the flush from her face. Eomer laughed, but reached down to kiss her, gentle yet lingering, then taking her hand in his he led her inside, passed the Hall full of merrymakers to their chambers.
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The wind was strong that day. A little colder then usual as well, but the Queen of Rohan did not mind. She just stubbornly pushed her dark hair out of her face, wandering about in the melting snow, trying to find what flowers had bravely pushed forth their petals. She found enough for a handful, and made her way along the overgrown mountain path to the ruin of long-decayed thatch and tumbled wood that had once been a sturdy, warm farmhouse.

Behind it there was still, standing strong, a stone marker with two intertwined thistle flowers carved upon it. But now it was flanked by two small statues carved in Dol Amroth, one of a woman with outstretched hands, one of a man with a beard and sword. Lothiriel set the flowers between them, kneeling carefully before the marker.

"Happy Birthday, Mother." She whispered. "I hope these flowers find you well. I pray that Edemer is well with you, as is Da." She smiled. "You would be happy to see me, Mama...as I know you must be. I am doing well in Edoras, I love its people and they support me well. Eomer and I are happy together, as I have such fond memories of you and Da being, few thought they are." She then gulped, looking down. "Sometimes, I still am filled with sadness, that neither you, nor Da, nor Edemer are here with me...but I am comforted by my husband, and by my memories of you." She managed to smile then, "Tell Edemer that he was right...that I found love true. Tell father that I understand what it is to love something enough to fight for it." Her smile became strong again, though tears slipped from her eyes. "And I give you all the news, that I am now three months with child." She laughed, "Eomer thought I was out of my wits to try to ride here, but I had to tell you..." Lothiriel reached out and touched the thistles. "I feel in my heart that you are proud of me...pray keep Da and Edemer well, Mama." She rose. "Goodbye..." She whispered, and turned to go.

She walked up the mountain path, holding her long green cloak around her tightly. Eomer was waiting for her, and she smiled up at him, as he gave her a hand up onto his horse, to ride before him. They turned, to ride back down the steep path, to where their escort waited at the foot of the mountain. Lothiriel looked back one more time, at the farm she had left so long ago...and then back down to the path, that had taken her to so many places, only to bring her back to Rohan.

One arm tight around her, Eomer whispered to her softly. "I love you, my Lothy."
Lothiriel smiled, shutting her eyes, content as they rode back to their home. "And I you."
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The End
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Thank you sooo much to everyone for indulging me! hehehe, I had such fun rereading this, grooming it, etc. Thank you for the reviews, compliments and comments, and worry not! For the writer's block has passed, and there will be a new chapter of White Hawk up this week, lol.
Now, I'm gonna go to bed, cause it's freakin' cold in here XD
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