Anyone who owns 'The Lord of the Rings' knows the Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, which can be found in the back. I think it's about time someone wrote the Tale of Eomer and Lothiriel. So here it is. No damsels in distress here.
Disclaimer: All characters and places owned by JRR Tolkien or whoever holda his copywright at the moment. Whatever. I didn't write LOTR.
The Tale of Éomer and Lothíriel.
PART ONE.
The long grass rippled noiselessly under the Sun, as three figures waded their way through it. They were close to the border of Dol Amroth, the city-port that was once one of the five great cities of Gondor, the largest city in the fief of Belfalas, ruled by the Prince of Dol Amroth. On the furthest horizon, blue banners marked with a white ship and a silver swan were clearly visible fluttering from the ancient Tower. At one time, long since, elves had dwelled on its shores, the city built by the legendary Elf-king Amroth, lover of the Elven princess Nimrodel, the elf maid who lost her way through the White Mountains and was never seen again. But Amroth had died in the year 1981 of the Third Age, and it had been long since elves had dwelled in that city on the shore, though the grace of that race was carried still in the might of its people.
"Shouldn't you be at home minding your wife and kingdom?"
This from the blonde one, walking in long, easy strides with that beautiful grace only Elven kind may possess, passing through the long leaves without so much as breaking a blade. Aragorn laughed, a soft husky waterfall.
"This may be the last of my adventures. And I do think I owe Imrahil rather a lot. But you could have gone on home, both of you."
"And what home would that be then?" grumbled the dwarf, puffing along a stride or two behind. "My days of stop at home are over, I think. At least 'til we find somewhere that serves better food!"
"Aye, Aragorn, Gimli and I plan to travel far. At some point I shall return to Mirkwood, I suppose, but I owe him a companion to view his famous glittering caves, and not before he has accompanied me on our expedition of Fangorn forest! And until the horns of our homelands call us back again, what better way to repay those who helped to fight our battles than offering a little support on their side?"
"Perhaps I should have rallied the men of Gondor myself, rather than sectioning myself with friends," murmured Aragorn, slowing to survey the landscape they were passing through. "I expect I am selfish."
"Nay, not selfish," said Legolas, calmly, squinting at the gulls flying around the tower on the horizon. "They longer served Faramir, and will understand your absence with old friends." He halted, suddenly. Gimli walked into him and huffed loudly. "Halt. Aragorn –halt! I heard something." He broke off again, surveying the long grasses carefully, grasses almost over the head of the elf. "Someone is here."
As silently as could be managed, they drew arms. Across the plain, Legolas spied a raised knoll, a short distance to the right. It lay on their route and was a landmark into the first hamlets outside the city. There, it flashed again: a shield or a spear. They were being tracked!
"Be silent," murmured Legolas, fitting an arrow to his bow, "they're onto us," and fired.
Twenty birds at least flew out of the long grass. The shot was returned with sudden silence. The walkers released their breath.
"Did I get him?" asked Legolas.
Sword, axe and bow ready, they made their way cautiously to the clearing. Empty. Empty? Aragorn whirled round on the spot. Gimli glared about into the grass. Where was the scout? And where was the arrow?
"Do you shoot everyone you do not know?"
Three heads flicked round, alert for action. Tall and graceful in the green and yellow blades stood a woman. She was long limbed like an elf but well muscled like a man. Her clothes were of greens and browns, and her feet were bare. Her neck was long and her face beautiful, surrounded by dark flyaway curls that were almost black. She was also armed. With shield, sword, spear and knives.
"Is this yours?" she addressed Legolas, and presented the arrow. It was unbroken and had no trace of blood on it. He raised his chin warily and lowered his bow. She handed it to him. "I suggest you look more carefully before you shoot." She dropped her shield, which was silver inlaid with blue stone, on the top of the knoll and sat on it so that they were a little beneath her. "Who are you, and what are you doing in Dol Amroth?"
"I am Aragorn the second, King of Gondor as of a fortnight ago," said Aragorn, lowering his sword and sheathing it. The woman surveyed him for a moment and nodded. "This is Gimli son of Gloin, and Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."
"And are you usually such a poor shot, 'Prince of Mirkwood'?"
Legolas bristled. Gimli chuckled and leaned on his axe.
"Might we have the honour of your own name, Lady?" asked the elf, as civilly as he could manage.
"I am Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, daughter of Imrahil and leader of the three companies. It seems I am your welcoming party, son of Thranduil." Man and Dwarf knelt before the princess. Legolas did not. She gazed at him for a while, then smiled, and offered him her hand. He took it. "Come, a banquet is being prepared as we speak and there have been orcs tracking you. The evening draws on. May I suggest you accept the offer of horses?"
"Gladly accepted, in your company," said Gimli, eyes sparkling at the mention of the feast to come. Aragorn smiled in his own lopsided fashion and took the hand of the princess as well. She whistled and four horses entered the clearing from the direction of the city. A raven-haired man wearing armour bearing a ship as its motif rode one of them, and he led the other horses by their bridles.
They mounted and Lothíriel leapt lightly up behind the soldier, whose horse they saw did not wear a saddle. The bare feet of the princess swung lightly over the sides of the mare and her hair flew like a ribbon to the side with the wind. They made their way along the winding track that uncovered itself once leaving the grass, through the further houses of the city and in the direction of the sea, whose coast lay at the bottom of the hill and tower. As they rode, they were aware of troops in blue and white falling in to march behind them, all bearing the sign of the silver ship. There were many, enough for three companies, with the commander Princess Lothíriel riding it their head.
At length, when the shadows were considerably longer, the night beginning to fold over them, they passed through a large military camp.
"Fall out!"
Some men from each company left the column to find rest in their tents, yet a considerable section remained to march on to the city.
"So why do those fellows march on up here with us?" asked Gimli, knuckles white from gripping the reins of his horse.
"There are some that dwell in the city. They will fall out as we pass their houses. But there were many in the surroundings that lost their homes in an attack from the Dark lands earlier this year. They are encamped while reconstruction is underway. We're coming up to the city now."
They passed under two white stone archways. Gulls wheeled over their heads, disturbed by the clamour. Beneath them the sea was crashing in the cove. The companies behind them dispersed to be greeted by tall women saying, "Dinner's on the table, mind the children they're sleeping!" The riders dismounted and the armoured soldier led the horses away to the stables. They had come to the House on the Sea, the dwelling of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.
Please review! next part up soon, love skinnyrita xxxxxxxxxxxx