A/N: Happened to watch part of a Masterpiece Theatre showing of "Persuasion" (not the really good one with Amanda Root/Ciaran Hinds), and chanced to ponder the possibility of adapting the basic storyline to Middle Earth and, who else, Eomer and Lothiriel. So, sorry Smor, but here's yet another tale of their meeting…

NOTES: The details of this story essentially follow Tolkien's tale, though they add numerous events that are not mentioned and probably didn't happen (I don't know for certain if anything directly contradicts Tolkien, but I tried to make it conform with known canon as much as possible).

Persuasion

(May, 3016 III, Minas Tirith)

"Lothiriel? Come here, child," Ivriniel instructed, in that tone that left no room for argument. Since the death of the girl's mother, Ivriniel had seen it as her responsibility to take on the task of seeing her niece properly reared. Certainly the girl's father and brothers could not be expected to do an adequate job of it, and Ivriniel had no intention of leaving the matter to chance. The family's good name and reputation were at stake.

The girl's eyes sparkled and her face was flushed, while a brilliant smile lit her face. Ivriniel's eyes narrowed; she could guess the source of this radiant countenance. Young girls were so impressionable, and easily taken in by handsome men. "Where have you been?" she interrogated.

Lothiriel was too filled with happiness to conceal anything, though it felt awkward to share such wonderful happenings with her aunt. "I…I have been with Lord Eomer. We were walking in the garden. But I assure you we were properly attended, Aunt." Lothiriel hastened to add that last bit, knowing how important such things were to her stern relative.

"He is not a Lord, Lothiriel! He is merely a soldier. Granted he is the king's nephew, but of little consequence beyond that," Ivriniel announced reprovingly. Rohan's king had sent his son and his nephew, just over a sennight ago, as emissaries to Gondor; if Lothiriel must swoon over one of them, let it at least be the prince. He was a bit old for Lothiriel, true, but the most suitable for a match with Imrahil's daughter. Unfortunately, Rohan's heir to the throne was much occupied in discussions with Denethor, leaving his cousin free to impose himself upon the unwary young girl.

Lothiriel's enthusiasm faltered at this attack, but then she ventured, "Still, he is most agreeable, and his connection to the king –"

Ivriniel cut her off, seeing where this might be leading. "Do not be a silly child, my dear! The man is most inappropriate for you. Men such as that merely toy with young girls. They make insincere promises in order to take liberties, and then they disappear long before the consequences are felt!" She eyed her niece dispassionately, making Lothiriel uneasy under her gaze. "He has done so, has he not?" she inquired perceptively, and Lothiriel ducked her head to avoid the woman's piercing look.

"He…he wishes to marry me –"

"Marry! That is outrageous! How dare he suggest such a thing, or even presume it! He is nothing but a soldier, Lothiriel, and will never amount to anything of consequence. You are the daughter of a prince, and you have obligations to your family and to Gondor. You could never marry so beneath you. Your father would never allow it, and you would regret the alliance all of your days! Do you truly wish to live out your life in a bark hut, with no servants to attend and nothing of value to your name?"

Lothiriel swallowed hard at this assessment. Eomer had seemed most sincere, and she could not think he would ever allow her to go wanting on his account. Still, she was very young and had not had much association with men other than her brothers. Perhaps he did deceive her; perhaps her aunt was right to counsel her against him. Even so, tears filled her eyes as she capitulated. "As you say, Aunt."

"Good!" Ivriniel exclaimed, pleased at her victory. "You will decline his offer, and make it clear to him that you are not to be trifled with further. I understand they will be leaving the day after tomorrow to return to Rohan. It should not be difficult for you to largely avoid him until he is gone."

xxx

"I…I do not understand. Lothiriel –" Eomer was saying when a commanding voice rang out behind him.

"Lothiriel! Come inside, child. I am sure the gentleman will excuse you," Ivriniel imperiously instructed.

Eomer wheeled on his heel, and Lothiriel slipped reluctantly past him to obey. "Wait! Lothiriel –"

"My niece is off limits to you, young man. She is too young and impressionable, and we do not appreciate your preying upon her," Ivriniel announced.

For a moment, Eomer was going to argue, but Lothiriel would not meet his eyes, seeming to agree with her aunt's edict. Anger swelled in him and he gave a curt nod of his head, turning quickly away and charging from their presence.

"See, that was not so difficult," Ivriniel commented, benignly watching the young man depart. "Come inside, Lothiriel."

"Yes, Aunt," she dutifully responded, fighting back the tears threatening to break forth. How had this wondrous visit to Minas Tirith turned so utterly miserable?

Chapter 1 (July, 3019 III, Minas Tirith)

"So, Erglass, what news of Minas Tirith?" Ivriniel inquired of her servant, while pulling off her gloves. Behind her, Lothiriel was unfastening her travel cloak. The pair had just arrived on the boat from Dol Amroth, answering a summons from Imrahil to join him in the White City.

"Oh! So much to tell you, m'lady! When we returned to the City after the fighting was over, it was quite in ruins, though they've done many repairs since then. The menfolk say it was quite a glorious sight when the Rohirrim rode into view on the horizon to help defend us! And, after, during all the celebrations once the Dark Lord was defeated, all those light-haired men made quite a splendid sight to a woman's eye!" The portly, older woman blushed at her girlish remarks, but then pressed on with her commentary, unaware of Lothiriel's increased attention at the mention of Rohan.

"Anyway, there was parties and feasting all over, not to mention when the new king was crowned! And then when his bride came – an Elf! Can you imagine! She's the most gorgeous creature that ever lived, I'll wager! It was such a shame you had to miss the wedding on account of your illness, m'lady. You're all better now?"

"Yes, dear, I am. Thank you for inquiring. But do go on – what is happening now that would cause my brother to send for us? Surely we have already missed all the excitement," Ivriniel remarked, smoothing her clothes after handing her cloak to another servant hovering nearby, and leading the way toward the library for refreshments. Lothiriel followed silently in her wake, also eager for news.

"Well, likely Prince Imrahil would have you here on account of King Theoden – Rohan's king. He was killed in the War, out on the Pelennor, and has lain here in the Hallows until now. They are coming to take him back to Rohan for burial, is what I hear."

Before she could continue, Lothiriel involuntarily spoke, murmuring, "Then Theodred is now king."

Both the other women turned to look at her, but she was gazing at the floor and did not notice. "Oh no, miss! Seems this Theodred, the king's son, was killed during the War also, though I do not know the particulars of it – he didn't fight here – and so now the king's nephew rules. His name is…Eomer, I think it was. Fine looking man he is – so very tall and handsome. The ladies were all vying for his attention until he returned home. Unless he's found a wife, I'm sure it will be the same this time, too!"

Imperceptibly, Lothiriel inhaled and her eyes widened. Eomer was king now? She moved hastily to the window as she fought for control of her emotions and her countenance. There, she closed her eyes in pain at the irony of it all – she had rejected him as unworthy of her hand because of his lowly station! He would never think of her fondly now, she was sure, but she also suspected her aunt would be anticipating making a match of them. Ivriniel did not concern herself overly much with such details. The two were of equal rank; indeed, quite possibly they were each of the highest rank imaginable among the unmarried nobility – Ivriniel would think it right and proper that they be joined, regardless of either one's feelings in the matter. How very humiliating it was going to be to face him now!

The room seemed to be closing in on her, and she knew she had to escape. "If you will excuse me, Aunt. I believe I will rest a while before supper. I want to be fresh for this evening," Lothiriel said, hoping the woman would not press her with questions.

"Of course, my dear. That is an excellent idea. Yes, we certainly want you looking your best…" Ivriniel's voice had that speculative note that always set Lothiriel on edge. She could well guess the reason for it this time.

Safely in her room, Lothiriel sat in a chair and stared unseeingly ahead of her. Eomer was returning, as king of Rohan. In some ways, the events of three years past seemed an eternity ago. She did not believe a day had gone by during which she had not thought of Eomer, and regretted giving him up. For all that their time together had been brief, she was convinced their love had been true. The momentary confusion Ivriniel had caused led to Lothiriel doing as instructed and rejecting him, but the look on his face when she spoke the words! Her aunt had completely misjudged the situation, and she had broken his heart most cruelly. And she had never recovered from that knowledge or her own feelings. Young men had been interested in her since then, usually spurred by Ivriniel's efforts to encourage her toward a possible future marriage companion, but she had wanted none but the one man who was totally lost to her.

A man who was now coming to Minas Tirith, against all probability, and she could not avoid encountering him. Oh, how she wished she was back in Dol Amroth, and did not have to face the next few days.

xxx

As it turned out, the next few days were the least of her concerns. The Rohirrim had not yet arrived at the city, and Lothiriel spent a pleasant three days being reunited with her family, whom she had missed terribly these past months. She had not seen her father or youngest brothers since March, only Elphir returning home after the War to deal with matters of that kingdom in his father's absence. Despite the joy of seeing her family once more, Lothiriel could not help being nervous about Eomer's pending arrival. She had gone over every possible scenario she could imagine for their initial meeting, but always she envisioned herself as looking quite foolish and garnering nothing but his disdain.

Rightly so, she believed. She had hurt him so very much with her rejection. Over the past three years she'd had ample time to ponder on the matter, and always her heart reached the same conclusion – that she loved him still. She knew all the arguments her aunt had repeated periodically during that time – that she was too young to know her own mind, that they barely knew one another, that it was merely infatuation that she felt, that Eomer was much too old for her – but none of them did anything to persuade her that her feelings had not been genuine, and no matter Ivriniel's claims otherwise, she felt certain Eomer had been equally sincere. Not that it made any difference now. How he must despise her. He had never been the sort of man to care about position, and she doubted very much he would now consider her merely because of her title and disregarding their history.

The day of the Rohirrim's expected arrival, Lothiriel was on pins and needles from the moment she awakened. She had walked through the town, even down to the first level, and strolled the gardens of the city, but nothing distracted her for long or soothed her raw nerves. Even though anticipated, the sound of horns, announcing the party had reached the city's entrance, made her jump and her breathing quickened. This would never do, she thought, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks. How could she see him in this agitated state. With an effort, she willed herself to calm down and draw even breaths. She could not change the past, but she would give him no reason to reproach her now. Her behavior would be impeccable; besides, Ivriniel would be there also, and no doubt watching attentively.

Despite the tenuous control she achieved, Lothiriel was not at all certain she could maintain it once they were face to face, but there was nothing to be done for it. She must attend this feast, but with a bit of luck they might be seated far enough apart so as not to need to converse more than a few words.

As Lothiriel reached the doors to the feasting hall, she encountered the swarm of nobility that had been invited. How had she never noticed how exquisitely beautiful the ladies of Minas Tirith were? Ivriniel had long dictated her appearance. The woman favored dark, dull colors for dresses, that were more suitable to someone her own age than for a young woman such as her niece. Additionally, she saw to it that Lothiriel kept her hair pinned neatly into a matronly bun at the nape of her neck, as she deemed any proper noblewoman should wear it.

For all her position, Lothiriel felt like the poor relation in cheap, dowdy clothes when standing beside the other ladies. Their eyes seemed brighter, their clothing richer, their manners more refined. Surely her estimation of their adornment must be her imagination, for the White City had suffered some deprivation just as Dol Amroth had, but as to the rest, she felt far inferior in the eye of any beholder, and Eomer's would be a dispassionate, unforgiving gaze.

The crowd made way for Lothiriel as her father came to escort her to the assigned seat. "You look lovely this evening, dearest!" Impulsively, he leaned and pressed a kiss to her forehead, engendering a blush.

"Thank you, Father." She fell silent as he smiled again, and steered their course forward. She fixed her eyes ahead, refusing to let them dart nervously about the room, seeking a glimpse of Eomer. She had little doubt she would locate him all too soon.

They reached the head table, though she was apparently to be seated with her brothers at the next table down. There were too many higher ranking dignitaries in attendance here, between Gondor, Rohan and the Elves, for everyone to fit at the single lead table. After greeting the King and Queen, Imrahil saw his daughter ensconced next to her brother, Amrothos. Lothiriel was pleased that Eomer had not yet arrived, and so she had not had to greet him in front of everyone. Still, sooner or later they would meet. Amrothos was speaking to her, and she drew her attention from her thoughts to what he was saying, trying to set aside her trepidation as she did so.

Several moments later, a murmur went through the hall, and Lothiriel looked up to see the cause of it. Everyone's attention was focused on the entrance, and even before she looked in that direction, she knew he was there. It was as though she could tangibly feel his presence in the room. Slowly she turned to gaze at the newcomers, and her breath caught in her throat. He was even more impossibly handsome than she recalled. In three years time, he appeared to have filled out more and grown even taller, or possibly it was merely his self-confident demeanor that made him seem larger and more impressive. A sense that she did not truly know him swept over her and, in a way, she knew that was so, for they had been little acquainted, but in the next moment there was an overwhelming sense of familiarity about him. She had been so very young, and he had been dutifully polite and proper, but still she remembered the thrill that went through her each time he had taken her hand or touched her arm. That same feeling shot through her now as, inexplicably, his eyes lifted and fell directly upon her.

She had expected awkwardness, and even disinterest, but she was not quite prepared for the coldness in his eyes. Unable to hold his gaze, she dropped her eyes. Beside her, Amrothos had chosen to give her a running commentary of their acquaintance with King Eomer, and was detailing how he and their father had become close friends. Underscoring his words, her father was hastening toward the king to greet him, and moments later, the two stood before her. She and Amrothos rose in unison to acknowledge him.

"Eomer, you know Amrothos, of course, but I am pleased to acquaint you with my daughter, Lothiriel," Imrahil enthusiastically introduced.

On cue, Lothiriel gave an appropriate curtsy, but as she rose from it, Eomer said tonelessly, "We have met before."

Imrahil's eyebrow quirked upward, and he remarked, "Indeed? I was not aware of that. When did such take place?"

Eomer's scowl had deepened, so Lothiriel hesitantly explained, "It…it was several years ago, Father, when I was visiting Minas Tirith with Aunt Ivriniel. King Eomer was here with his cousin, Prince Theodred." Her hand fisted in the folds of her skirt, out of sight of onlookers. This was proving as difficult as she had anticipated.

"I see," Imrahil commented, but Eomer had already turned his attention to the man's sons, and was greeting them warmly. Again Imrahil's brow rose. He would never have expected Eomer to behave so, indeed his behavior toward Lothiriel was almost rude. After a moment, Imrahil set aside his concern over it; likely Eomer was exhausted from his travel, and distressed by the reason for it. He would be more the man Imrahil knew and liked once this was all in the past. He followed the young king along the line as he greeted others, and they slowly made their way to join Gondor's king and queen.

Once he was past, Lothiriel sat as quickly as was appropriate. A glance up gave her a glimpse of her aunt, smiling approvingly at her conduct, and apparently totally unware of the turmoil raging inside her niece. Giving a small sigh, Lothiriel sipped at the wine that the servants were beginning to pour and let the talk nearby draw her in.

Despite everything, however, Lothiriel could not keep from sneaking glances at Eomer. Doing so afforded her nothing, though, as he never seemed to look in her direction or take any further notice of her. Just as Erglass had indicated, Eomer had the full interest of every unattached woman in the room, and Lothiriel caught even a few of the married ones eyeing him. When the meal ended and the guests stood around talking and mingling, Eomer was soon surrounded by eager women, anxious to catch his notice. That alone was irksome to Lothiriel, who felt she must keep her distance, but the worst part of it was how pleased he seemed to be to accommodate them. It was quite evident he had well and truly forgotten his professions of love to her, and he most certainly had not been pining over her loss. It put a bitter taste in her mouth, even as she admitted she full well deserved to be treated thus.

To her chagrin, her brother Erchirion seemed intent on bringing the two of them together, and despite her protests, he caught her elbow and propelled her toward the golden-haired king. Likely no one but Lothiriel noticed him stiffen when he caught a glimpse of her approaching. He politely turned to acknowledge them, though he kept his eyes on Erchirion, barely glancing at her. Feeling awkward standing there in silence, she ventured conversation by telling him, "I was very sorry to learn of your uncle's death, and Theodred's as well. You have my condolences."

The words brought a resounding silence from all gathered, and Lothiriel paled, realizing that perhaps that had not been the best topic at just this moment. Eomer's jaw had tightened, but he quietly answered, "Thank you. That is very kind of you." He paused an instant, then glanced around at the group attending him and announced, "If you will all excuse me. It has been a very long day and I must arise early. I believe I will call it a night." He sketched a bow at the collective gathering, and they responded in kind, though clearly the ladies were loath for him to depart.

Sadly, Lothiriel watched him stride over to farewell the royals of Gondor and her father before exiting. It had perhaps been foolish of her, but she had hoped that they might at least be friendly toward one another. She had dared hope he might have forgiven her for the folly of her youth, but clearly forgiveness was not forefront in his mind where she was concerned.

Erchirion made no comment, though he watched her curiously from the corner of his eye. Neither she nor Eomer had mentioned their previous acquaintance, but he could discern nothing in their behavior to suggest it had been a cordial association. He bit back a grin; Aunt Ivriniel had her work cut out for her if she hoped to marry his sister off to Rohan's king, as he had little doubt she intended.

TBC

Erglass – "lone joy"

Linsul – "wind song"

Angcam – "iron hand"

Arastel – "deer foot"

Ivriniel: Sister of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel was born in 2947 (69 in 3016). She was the eldest child of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. She had a younger sister Finduilas - wife of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor - and a younger brother Imrahil.

Theodred born 2978 (38 in 3016); died 25 Feb 3019

Eomer born 2991; 25 in 3016

Lothiriel born 2999; 17 in 3016

Theoden began to fall under influence of Grima in 3014

3018

September 19: Gandalf comes to Edoras and is refused admittance.

September 20: Gandalf has an audience with King Theoden and warns him of Saruman's treachery, but Theoden sends him away. Soon afterwards, Saruman begins to act openly in his plan to conquer Rohan.

September 23: Gandalf leaves Rohan with Shadowfax.

3019

February 25: Theoden's son Theodred is killed by Saruman's forces at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

February 27: Theoden learns of Theodred's death. Erkenbrand sends a request for reinforcements but Grima advises against it and Theoden follows his advice. Eomer leads his eored in pursuit of the Orcs against King Theoden's orders.

February 30: Eomer meets Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli and decides to aid them. On his return to Edoras, Eomer is arrested.

March 2: Theoden is freed from Grima's influence by Gandalf and decides to ride to war against Saruman.

August 7: The funeral escort arrives in Edoras.

August 10: Funeral of King Theoden. Eomer announces the betrothal of Eowyn to Faramir of Gondor.

August 14: The Fellowship leaves Edoras.