A/N: For explanation on the dashes, please visit my profile.

A Winter Lady For A King.

Chapter I: The Prison Of Virtues.

The princess looked through the window at the blood that covered the winter's first snow on the distant fields and sighed; the last battle of a short war had been fought and the two weeks of its duration felt like several long years.

A tribe of barbarians had come from the South determined to attack and conquer the small country of Vathinia. As the king of a country with few wars to count and tell in its history, Idrios had asked their closest neighbour, Rohan, to come to their aid, considering the enemy had already eliminated half of an already small army. Rohan hadn't even hesitated in answering the desperate king's call and, thanks to the brave Rohirrim, Vathinia had won.

After the final battle, a messenger arrived at the palace bringing the good news and informing the queen that the king, the Rohirrim and what was left of Vathinia's army would arrive that same night to celebrate the victory.

Closing her eyes for a moment and then opening them again, she turned away from the window and walked to her bed, sitting down on it. In a period of time quicker than a ray of light, she wished the king, her father, had died in the battle. She would rather see her country in the hands of barbarians and be called a slave then to be imprisoned behind those stone walls, surrounded by jewels, and still be treated as a slave who others called a princess.

Had Idrios died, she would feel not happiness, but relief, like the entire Arda had been taken off her shoulders and replaced with just Middle Earth. But the time for it had not come yet; her father was closer by the minute and everything would be the way it had always been.

Princess Eihhlin was, at eighteen years old, the older daughter of King Idrios and Queen Marjut. She had long and straight red hair that almost looked like a soft copper coloured silk sheet. Her eyes were as blue as the Belegaer Sea and only snow could be whiter than her skin. She was considered tall when compared to the average woman of her people and had a slender figure.

There wasn't any kind of connection between most family members of the royal house: the queen simply ignored her children and despised her husband and her shameless interest in young stable boys was a very well known fact among nobility; Mero was ten and the future king of Vathinia and he and Paro, who was six, were the only little sparkle of joy in Eihhlin's life; the king's feeling towards his children weren't better than the queen's and it was said it wasn't the only affinity he had with Marjut.

Everyone in Triniha, chief city of Vathinia, seemed to be in a great haste while preparing that night's banquet. The queen had demanded everything to be perfect to welcome the Rohirrim and the palace's servants had their work redoubled.

Eihhlin spent almost the entire day in her chambers, at her window, watching people running from one place to another in a hurry and she thought the celebration itself was exaggerated; of course the country should thank Rohan in the best way possible, but the way things were being held seemed more like ostentation than thanks.

At sunset, the chambermaid came to help her change and get ready for when the men arrived. The princess decided to wear a simple dark green winter dress and small jewels. After all, she didn't like to be noticed, especially in the presence of men.

Éomer of Rohan, king since his uncle Theodén's death three years before, led his men beside Idrios towards Triniha feeling rather tired but satisfied that he had honoured a friendship of centuries between both countries. Although he secretly despised Idrios, he knew it was not his right to break a long tradition of mutual help.

After a journey of several long hours from the fields of Kaliaras, where the final battle had taken place, to Triniha, the Rohirrim finally arrived at the city accompanied by Idrios. They were welcomed as heroes and Éomer couldn't remember of such a warm welcome by another country. They went through the city until they reached the main square, where several stable boys took their horses to the palace's stables.

Eihhlin met Marjut at the main hall and the queen, as always, searched for a flaw in her daughter's appearance, finding none. She frequently did this to her children and the princess thought it happened simply because her mother had nothing better to do.

-Perfect. –Marjut said. –Now, remember: don't speak unless you're spoken to. We don't know these Rohirrim, but they're men and we know what that means.

-Yes, mother. –the princess answered calmly.

-Believe me, I want this to end as much as you do. –the mother stated, knowing this kind of event was terribly boring to her daughter.

The queen and the princess, mother and daughter, exited the palace through the great double wood door and descended the grand staircase, at the end of which the king and the Rohirrim were waiting. The first thing Eihhlin saw when she stepped outside was a sea of golden hair, a common feature among the people of Rohan she had heard.

When they finally reached the end of the stairs, the princess took a better look at Éomer, king of Rohan, who was standing next to her father. He was tall like no other man she had ever seen, had long golden hair and brown eyes that showed honesty and honour and a beard. Éomer was the handsome man she had heard about; he had a rough appearance and maybe the same could be said about his manners, but he was handsome nonetheless.

-Welcome back, my Lord of Vathinia. –Marjut said to her husband.

-Meet my wife Marjut and my daughter Eihhlin, Lord Éomer. –Idrios said, ignoring the queen. This fact didn't change Éomer's opinion about Idrios in a positive way, but he tried to ignore it as he slightly bowed to the first and kissed the hand of the second. Eihhlin wasn't comfortable with this contact and she could see it wasn't something the king of Rohan was used to do. –Come, Lord Éomer. We shall feast together to celebrate this victory.