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Messages - Éomer

Pages: [1] 2
Edoras / Re: One Should Never Be Remiss In a Brotherly Duty
« on: August 12, 2019, 02:58:24 AM »
When Eomer said that his sister was the reason he was speaking to Faramir, the other man took his timeto answer. But Eomer did not think it was due to any reason than it simply being in Faramir’s nature to measure his words before he spoke. It must be a trait that was useful if Gondor, if what little of their court Eomer had actually seen was any indication. Eomer stood tall before Faramir, arms crossed in front of his chest and silently waiting for an answer.

As the Gondorian spoke about how kind Eowyn had been to him, Eomer pursed his lips as the implication of Faramir’s was crystal clear to him: Faramir had certain tender feelings for his sister. Of Eowyn’s feelings, Eomer was not sure but knowing his sister, he doubted that she would string the man along, which meant she either returned his feelings or was unaware of them. Yet Eomer didn’t entirely see Faramir before him but rather another, far less welcome suitor. If one could call the attentions Grima paid towards Eowyn those of a suitor. And while he knew deep down, his actions and feelings were entirely unfair to either his sister or her far superior suitor, there was little he could do to stop them.

As concern came to Faramir’s face, Eomer got slight satisfaction in knowing that it appeared the other man had caught his meaning, or at least was wary of his meaning. ”Depends on your intentions towards my sister, Prince Faramir.” He frowned, this time unsure if he should explain a little for his reasons for concern. He decided it was only fair that Faramir know it, though details he would leave to his sister to tell. ”She has previously received unwanted attention from someone less than savory.”

Eomer would be lying if he said he was not aware of how people spoke highly of not only his people but of him in particular. And that some of his most vocal supporters were the lady’s father and brothers, which perhaps was not the worse thing in the world. He still did have to consider the future of Rohan and his future happiness and that if Lothiriel was someone he might marry, having the goodwill of her father and brothers was vital. Not that he was determined to marry any time soon. He had much to do before he could even truly consider things having to do with his heart.

He gave her a rather amused looked, some of his solemnity eased away, at her insistence that she played a nearly insignificant part in his finding his sister after the battle. ”I seem to recall a particular princess had to be nearly dragged away from my presence.” Perhaps not quite but he liked his version of events. His inquiry about her leg was met with her saying that it was doing better. ”That is good to hear. I know that injuries can linger far longer than we would like.” He was honestly glad that her leg was not bothering her as much as had been.

Her words about him replacing her brother was met with an amused shake of the head. ”They won’t object to being in the company of a simple soldier from Rohan?” He was well aware that he was more than a simple Rohirrim, even if he had not been crowned yet nor would he until his uncle was buried in Rohan. She seemed pleased at his admittedly spontaneous offer to come to Rohan and he smiled back at her. ”I believe your father and brothers are traveling to Edoras for...” He suddenly trailed off as it truly hit him that he was burying his uncle and becoming King of Rohan in a short time. ”If you could come...” He trailed off once more, though this time he wasn’t entirely sure his reasoning for wanting her to come.

She countered his offer to see his home with one of her own and he smiled, this time sadly. ”I would be glad to yet I cannot see myself being able to leave Rohan for some time.” Rohan had suffered greatly under the influence of Grima Wormtongue and Saruman and would take much of his time and energy to rebuild and restore, in addition to his duties as king, and needing to learn how to be king.

Chat & Games / Re: Waking up next to you...
« on: January 07, 2018, 06:22:01 AM »

"My hat? Captain? What are you going on about, boy?"

Eomer nodded as she said that she was thankful that no one had been treating his people poorly. In fact, most people had viewed him and his Rohirrim as something akin to saviors, having swept in like a mighty wave crashing over the forces of Mordor and sweeping them away. ”I have not heard of anyone treating us poorly.” He would not deny that that there were likely people that thought his people were savages, likely spreading stories of them being cannibals or some other such nonsense. Worse would be if they said that they ate their horses. He gave a mental shudder at that thought and turned his thoughts to more pleasant things.

Like his companion at the moment, the rather lovely Princess of Dol Amroth. It was fascinating to see the effect of his words upon her visage, a rather becoming blush on her cheeks told him that despite her words to the contrary, she was well aware that his words were meant for her. ”I would not call what you did useless. You provided me with much needed companionship, despite the fact that must have been exhausted.” His tone and eyes were rather warm as he studied her, plae yes but not wraith-like the last time he saw her. ”Is your leg still bothering you, milady?” There was a rather large amount of concern in tone for her and he frowned thoughtfully.

She invited him to sit, explaining that her previous companion had left her in a drunken stupor, which made him chuckle warmly. [color=saddlebrown}” I can promise you that I will try hard not to leave you in a drunken stupor, unlike my predecessor, who was a fool to leave the company of such a lovely lady.”[/color] All right, so maybe he was flirting with her but he did rather want to try and see if he could make her blush again, rather charmed by the sight of it. He gave a rather dramatic sigh at them not having mead but he was mostly teasing. She said that she disagreed about his comment about the men and women of Rohan's veins being filled with manure but that she was unsure with what since she knew very little about his people. ”Perhaps, you can visit and learn more?” He was startled by his own question but realized that he was serious about wanting to show her his home and was eager to hear her answer.

Lothiriel smiled at his approach and Eomer was glad that she seemed to welcome his company. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly terrified that she would not want his company or that she found his company unpleasant. Her smile brightened her whole countenance and made him smile in response, as small as his smile may be in comparison to hers. He nearly insisted that she did not need to stand and return his bow but before he could even begin to form the words, she was already standing and giving him a curtsy.

Yet her greeting him like Hama had earlier, a very Rohirric greeting, made his pause almost in wonder. Most people who were not from Rohan did not use his title like that and it pleased him to no end to hear her say it like that, even if he was entirely sure why at the moment. She asked him how the city and its people were treating him and he gave her an amused smile. ”They have been treating me and my men most kindly, though perhaps differently than we are used to.” Something made him speak rather boldly. ”I especially appreciated the help of a pretty healer in helping me locate my sister.” He suddenly colored and looked down in slight embarrassment, before he looked back up at her through his lashes, hoping he didn't offend her.

She was being the consummate hostess, offering him a drink, and he gave a thoughtful crown. ”I don't suppose you have mead? If not, I'll take some ale.” He wasn't the biggest fan of wine. He gestured to the seat across from her. ”Is any keeping you company, milady, or will a man possibly filled with manure be adequate?” The last bit was a reminder of the joke he had made that they were interrupted during and hopeful that now he could hear her thoughts on it.

While there was plenty to celebrate, Eomer was not exactly in an exuberant mood. He still had his uncle to bury and he knew that once Theoden was buried, he would be crowned the King of Rohan. Of course, he was technically the King already but he would not take full duties until after his uncle was laid to rest. And he would need to talk to Eowyn about heading home to Edoras to prepare for everything in a few days. He had met the Ring-bearer, the brave Hobbit that had destroyed the One Ring, thereby destroying Sauron and saving the world, and his loyal friend. And he had gone on what could have been a suicide mission had it not been for those Hobbits' actions.

He suddenly felt the need to head out of the house where most people had been celebrating and get some air, the thoughts of his uncle and press of responsibilities suddenly weighing down on him. ”Eomer-king?” It was Hama, looking concerned at his king's suddenly heading out. But Eomer simply shook his head, not wanting to worry the older Rohirrim, simply needing to leave, and be alone. Or as alone as one could be in such a city as this in midst of a celebration for the coronation of Aragorn.

As he stepped out into the night air, he let out a heavy breath, leaning almost heavily against the doorframe for a long moment. But he quickly straightened and planned on moving to a nearby railing when he spotted a familiar figure sitting at table not too far from him. And the sight of her for some reason made him smile a little, despite his gloomy thoughts. He strode over to her, hoping he didn't seem to eager to see her. ”Princess Lothiriel.” He gave a deep bow to her, before he straightened and actually caught sight of her. He couldn't help but stare at her, admiring how the dark colors accentuated her pale skin, but without really making her look unhealthy.

He was probably a far better sight now than last time she saw him after the battle: fully washed and dressed in an embroidered green shirt (he thought his sister had sown it but he couldn't really recall seeing her sew) that had a subtle horse motif in its gold thread. He did feel slightly bereft of his sword, used to Guthwine hanging by his side within easy reach.

It would appear that they were drawing close to the end of their journey if Lothiriel's pausing in front of a pair of doors was any indication. The fact that she looked between them showed that she was not entirely sure which one held his sister and he patiently waited for her to decide which was more likely, eager to see Eowyn yet not terribly in a hurry to leave the Princess of Dol Amroth's company, though his exact reasoning was not entirely clear to him at the moment. He was sure in the coming days, he could sort out exactly why he was less than eager to leave her company but not now.

She looked as though she were planning on responding to his joke about the people of Rohan being filled with manure but the approach of someone stopped her. He gave the older man a measured look, taking it what he recognized as the colors of Dol Amroth. Along with him came a healer who was frowning at Lothiriel and eyeing him. Eomer gave the princess an amused glance at being scolded, apparently she should have left some time again. Of course, along with his amusement came a shot of guilt for being the one to hold her here.

She smiled up at him and for a moment it seemed the world stood still for Eomer and he on impulse grabbed her hand and pressed a lingering kiss on it after she explained she should leave him to a healer to find his sister, Eowyn temporarily not at the forefront of his thoughts. ”Milady.” Her greeting about seeing him again had him nodding in agreement and he stared after her for a few long moments after she went around the corner, startling when the healer he had been left with cleared their throat. He followed her to see Eowyn but his mind was still for some reason on Lothiriel and how she managed to strike him dumb a few times in the short time he knew her.

Eomer was aware that patients were often moved, especially when their condition either got better or worse. And Eomer knew that Eowyn hadn't gotten worse, or at least hadn't perished since someone would have told him. But, as he considered things, if he couldn't find her, his time here wasn't totally wasted. He had met Lothiriel and found her pleasant company. Of course, he hoped he could see his sister, and try not to be too angry with her for disobeying him and their uncle. For some reason, he wasn't terribly surprised that Eowyn had done this.

He was immeasurably pleased when she laughed at his words about Gondorian's being horrible patients, glad to make her laugh and finding her laugh to be pleasant. ”My grandmother was originally from Belfalas so that maybe why I am such a troublesome patient.” He got many things from Morwen Steelsheen besides his height. He was often told that he was much like her, except for his hair color. Her words about salt-water in her veins made him thoughtful. ”It is said that Rohan appears like a sea of grass, so perhaps the Rohrrim's blood is filled with manure?” This last was said with considerable humor and he smiled a little more at her.

She seemed to be glad of his limited knowledge that her brother's and father were safe and he couldn't help the pang that her family had made it out of this relatively unscathed and his had not. Theodred and Theoden-king were both dead and his sister had nearly died. A hand patting his arm brought him out of his morose thoughts and he gave her an odd look as he felt almost like a jolt go up his arm from that simple touch. He inclined his head at her thanking him, suddenly finding himself at a loss for words.

While some might find that political marriages were the way to go, he found them rather distasteful. Usually the woman had no say in her husband and he was not going to marry anyone against their will. There had been too much forcing of people to do things to last several lifetimes. No, if he was to marry, it would be for at least affection and mutual respect, which meant getting to know a person and perhaps wooing that lady. But as King of Rohan, he had certain expectations of who he should and shouldn't marry.

He kept his smile on, though he was still worried about his sister. ”I promise that I shall try not to get any serious wounds.” Perhaps that was flirting with her? He found that he didn't mind, though he was aware that he wanted to wait until either Sauron was defeated or else something happened to let his heart be open to those sorts of feelings. ”Must be a Gondor trait then.” His grandmother was from Gondor and he said it to tease her, eyes glinting with mischief briefly.

Lothiriel asked after her father and brothers. ”Last I saw of them, they were unhurt. Though admittedly, my heart and mind have been on other things.” His face grew full of sorrow and worry: sorrow for the loss of his uncle and worry for his sister, as well a little embarrassed that he could not give her a better answer.

Chat & Games / Re: Freaky Friday
« on: August 22, 2017, 04:37:23 AM »

"Eowyn? What is going on, sister-mine?"

So it seemed his guess was correct. And somewhere in the back of his head, he could hear several people's voices telling him that as King of Rohan, he had a duty to have a son, though preferably more than one in case something happened to the first son. But before he could truly become King, he would need to fulfill his promise to Aragorn to help to try and defeat Sauron and bring peace to Middle Earth. Yet there was part of him that yearned for companionship and dare he hope love of a wife, someone who could be a true Queen of Rohan. And such a potential candidate was before him.

He did briefly wonder at her hiding her identity, and considered asking her. But in the long run, it was likely none of his business as to why she would not want people to know who she was. And part of him wished that at times he could hide who he was and simply be a Rider of Rohan, rather than first nephew of the King of Rohan and now a king himself. Her offer to look after his wounds for some reason made him give a vague smile, touched by her concern. ”That will not be necessary. I had my wounds looked at not long after the battle was over.” Again he gave a slight smile, amused by his memory of the rough time he had given the healer, a man that knew him very well and how ill-tempered he was as a patient. ”Though if I am ever in need of a healer, you will be the first on my mind.” Was he flirting with her? He wasn't entirely sure. ”I will warn you however, my lady, I am an awful patient.” His smie, while not a full out grin, had grown a little bit.

He felt a pang of guilt for asking her about her limp when he saw her frown, even though he had no idea why it made her frown. ”I hope that it does heal quickly. I have had several horses with leg injuries and know well that they can take some time to heal.”

Chat & Games / Re: Waking up next to you...
« on: July 10, 2017, 11:28:02 PM »

"Thank you, sister-mine."

Chat & Games / Re: Waking up next to you...
« on: July 08, 2017, 11:17:44 PM »

It would seem the Gondorian woman before was not eager on giving him her name, though Eomer was not sure if she was purposefully being deceitful or if there was another reason she withheld her answer. He frowned at the thought that she might be someone who had reason to hide her identity, concerned about his sister's safety at the thought of someone of less than savory character being anywhere near her. She already had enough trouble with Grima Wormtongue, the evil seducer. At least Eomer would not have to worry about the snake stalking his sister's steps any longer.

But she did eventually say her name, giving it as Lothiriel. His brow furrowed in confused thought. Where had he heard that name before...? His eyes widened slightly but imperceptibly as he took in her feature more closely and where he had heard that name, hopefully putting two and two together. Prince Imrahil had mentioned he had a daughter named Lothliriel and now that he looked closely at her, he could see the family resemblance. ”You wouldn't happen to be Prince Imrahil's daughter by any chance, lady?” His tone was still a bit curt but mostly due to eagerness to see his sister, but his curiosity was evident.

His curiosity was strong enough to give a short nod about her words about not hearing that his sister had been moved. Even if she couldn't bring him to see Eowyn, at least the time might not be wasted. As he followed, slightly concerned about her limp, his mind without provocation started measuring her as a potential Queen of Rohan, if indeed she was Prince Imrahil's daughter. Her questions about wounds on himself made his attention snap to her, and away from dangerous thoughts about her suitability as a wife. ”The worse of my injuries are merely bruises and a few minor scratches, but thank you for your concern.” His gaze went to her legs. ”Are you in need of medical attention, milady, with that limp?”

Eomer was only partly aware that he was likely very recognizable, and so too was his sister. There were few Rohirrim that reached his height, which was due to his grandmother Morwen Steelsheen’s Numenorean heritage. So he was only slightly surprised when the healer recognized him as being Eomer (though his title as King was surprising). Yet he only partly heard her words, since he seemed to be in a trance once he really got to look at her. She was pretty, if one ignored the tired look about her. Of course, as King of Rohan, he had certain expectations about his marriage, and pining after a pretty healer was out of the question.

So he mentally shook his head. ”You have me at a disadvantage, milady, for you know my name but I do not know yours.” His mind however was already thinking about the possibilities of the future. Sauron still needed to be defeated but there was no guarantee that Merry’s friends would succeed. And an outright attack was suicidal and stupid. But then her words about not knowing for sure hit his brain and made him raise an eyebrow. ”Perhaps someone else that does know where my sister is might be better?” Not that he wouldn’t mind some company. It had been sometime since he had last had conversation with someone that was not his sister or his men.

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