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Author Topic: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May T.A. 3019, Coronation of the King  (Read 1458 times)

Lothíriel

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At some time, whether it was night or day Lothíriel could not recall, the winds had shifted and changed. The air was sweeter, the sky brighter, and the foreboding that hung over the city and dwelled in the hearts of the people had lessened. As the sun shone even brighter, as the dark threat that loomed so nearer to the heart of Minas Tirith faded, the people found hope, a tiny sliver of it offered in a time when they wondered whether they would see the next moon rise and the next harvest come. With that sliver of hope came whispers: whispers of the downfall of Sauron, of the destruction of the One Ring and the prevailing of Men. It was on the first of the month of April when the news finally reached the cities from a herald of the lords and the truth of the whispers confirmed.

The Dark Lord had been defeated.

And so in that time the people who had left the city returned. Those who sought safety in Lossarnach returned to their city, to the Cormallen fields full of tents and merry-making of soldiers from home and afar.

The lost were remembered, prayers were sent up, and the people worked on rebuilding their lives again. The new King had come forward as well, and among those who returned whispers and rumors abound. Isildur's heir would take the throne once more, a king would sit in Gondor, and so the people prepared for the coronation.

In that time, Lothíriel had found herself reunited with her family again. Tears had been shed, tears of joy and heartache and sorrow, and the young woman for a moment had felt whole and complete, being in the arms of her father and brothers. As the days wore on and her father attended to his duties with Aragorn and Faramir, Lothíriel kept to the city, relieved of her duties from the Houses of Healing shortly after the wounded had been tended to. The people prepared for the coronation of the new king, and life seemed to work on mending itself.

As life worked on mending itself, the people and the city prepared for Aragorn to be crowned King of Gondor. The whole of Minas Tirith was busy for the week leading up to the coronation of the man, and the sounds of Minas Tirith were once more sounds of happiness and contentment. The coronation itself was a sight to behold: it had been many years since a King had taken the crown and the throne, and everyone who could was in attendance of the coronation. To see this new king...to see the future of their people...it was that reassurance that not all hope was lost.

And that day a new life was breathed into Minas Tirith, a mirth that had not been heard in some time echoing throughout the stone walls.

Lothíriel had found herself staying to the fringes of the crowds as the celebrations commenced, preferring to watch and enjoy rather than partake. Once the coronation was completed and the celebrations began in earnest, both in the halls of Minas Tirith and in the streets of the city below, the princess had moved to settle down at a table outside as the sun began to set, listening to the laughter and song that spilled out from house and field below. At some point both of her brothers had wandered off somewhere, offering to take her with them in their slightly inebriated states. She had refused, though, citing her preference to sit and relax. She watched the people talk and laugh and dance and drink, and her own smile was indicative of her happiness. Her attire, though, spoke differently: the pitch black of the gown contrasted against her pale skin, dark hair held back from her face and up in delicate pearl netting.

Still, her own dour look did not deter others from approach, and she was thoroughly enjoying the conversation given to her by soldier and lord alike. It was a comfort to be there, to see the happiness on the faces of men, and to know that what they had to look forward to was nothing but prosperous times.

And perhaps a little too much ale.
« Last Edit: October 04, 2017, 08:13:22 PM by Lothíriel »

Éomer

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Re: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May 3019, Coronation of the King
« Reply #1 on: October 04, 2017, 04:55:13 AM »
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.

Lothíriel

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Re: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May 3019, Coronation of the King
« Reply #2 on: October 04, 2017, 08:12:42 PM »
Man of Gondor and Rohan alike had offered talk to Lothíriel as they passed by the table, some of them at first a little taken aback that the woman they had assumed to be a healer was instead a princess. They had seen her with Prince Imrahil, with his sons, and it was at that moment when they saw the child by her father and brothers they realized the kinship of the woman and her title. A few of the wounded who were now milling about with their kin tried to offer apologies for their previous language, but the woman had only laughed and shaken her head, offering those who were repentant of their soldier-nature words that assuaged their concerns of offense. She heard far worse from a young age, the child of the sea had, for soldiers and sailors often had the same vernacular although no doubt the sea-men's was a little more salty (pun intended). ​She held no ill will towards the men: after all, they had been injured and were airing grievances. Part of her understood.

The music and laughter and dance filled Minas Tirith, stones echoing with the celebrations. It was easier now to sit and enjoy than try to mill about, and the Dol Amrothian knew sooner or later her dear aunt would find her and join her. She was certain Ivriniel was off somewhere badgering someone about something (and it was probably her father being badgered about Faramir and the White Lady of Rohan, if she was being honest). A few of the soldiers had asked the princess to dance, and while she appreciated each offer, she rejected them kindly. Lothíriel preferred to sit and watch, she explained, and just enjoy...and she was still in mourning, she tacked on politely.

Over a month had passed since the Battle of Pelennor, and the obvious limp and pains she suffered had dissipated once more as time wore on and the battle was distanced from her memory. What did not distance itself was her initial meeting with the new King of Rohan. The parting kiss to her hand had caught her off guard, the woman a bit surprised by his actions. She said nothing of it to anyone else, though, deciding to mull in her own thoughts concerning the king.

Thoughts that were constantly barraged with discussion of the man once her father and brothers had returned. Stories from the war were told often around their dining able, of her brother and father's heroism and the foolhardy nature of the Rohirrim in battle, of the prowess of Éomer and his skills with blade and spear. It was obvious her father and brothers held a deep regard for the man, a regard she had known many had upon learning of him from his own soldiers.

During the coronation, Lothíriel had spied Éomer across the way, noting the difference in his appearance from their first meeting. Well, his clothes were different. His expression, though...it was almost the same: a little worry and concern etched into the lines of his face. While she had intended on finding him and speaking to him after, the crowds had other plans, the people gathering in thick masses with music and food, so she had laid aside her intent to seek him out and instead had found her table after parting ways with her siblings.

Éomer found her, though, and at his approach she smiled, rising from her seat to offer him a curtsey in return of his bow. "Well met Éomer-King." She motioned to a seat across from her where she sat and moved to settle back down. "You are looking well. I trust the city and the people have been kind to you during your stay?"  She noticed his lack of mug and began to stand with the intent on getting him a drink. Ever the hostess the Princess was, even in a time of celebration. "Would you like some ale? Or wine?"

Éomer

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Re: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May T.A. 3019, Coronation of the King
« Reply #3 on: October 15, 2017, 01:02:35 AM »
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.

Lothíriel

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Re: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May T.A. 3019, Coronation of the King
« Reply #4 on: October 15, 2017, 09:21:17 PM »
​​​​​​​​​"I am glad the city is treating you well, as are the people. Hopefully no one has been untoward in their manners with your or your men." The princess doubted it, but some people still held very backwards belief about the horselords. There had always been rumors about the Rohirrim among everyone, about what they were like and what type of people they were; savages was a word most often used. The savages had saved Gondor from utter destruction, though, and may now knew they owed a great deal of gratitude toward the horselords.

The talk had easily shifted to their initial meeting, though, and the new King of Rohan offered something akin to a flirtatious comment to the princess. Lothíriel was far from a foolish and unaware girl; indeed, she was often the recipient of many men's affection, and so she was well aware when words carried a certain weight to them. ​​Éomer's own words about a pretty healer did not go unnoticed, nor was she oblivious that he was referencing her in that comment, but she decided to deflect the words anyway. "Ah, well I will have to tell that healer you were appreciative of her help, for I know I was rather useless that day." Her smile told him she took no offense to those words. Indeed, her cheeks had colored slightly at the comment of being called pretty because she was certain when he saw her she looked worse for the wear. She had been so tired, exhausted by the time she had bumped into him in the Houses,and both mind and body were a disheveled mess that required rest.

Rest had come to her in the days that followed, though, and the once dark pallor that shadowed her features was now faded. She was still pale, of course, but the shadows that spoke of restless nights did not hang over her anymore.

"Please sit, ​Éomer-King. My previous company has wandered off in a rather drunken stupor, and of course I do not mind a man filled with manure keeping me company." The woman smiled at him as she motioned to the vacant seat, moving away from her own in the process. With his request for mead or ale inn mind, ​​​​​​​​​Lothíriel moved out to attend to the barkeep who poured drinks freely and willingly for those celebrating the crowning of their new king. She returned with a tankard, placing it in front of the Rider before moving back to her own seat. "Ale for the King." She sat across from him, smiling as two children ran by laughing before looking back to him. "Although I must disagree with you. I do not think the Rohirrim have manure-filled veins. I am not too certain what your veins would be filled with, though. I admit I have little knowledge of Rohan outside of the Battle of Celebrant and the founding of Rohan through Eorl."

Éomer

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Re: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May T.A. 3019, Coronation of the King
« Reply #5 on: November 26, 2017, 04:03:32 AM »
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.

Lothíriel

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Re: to wear a kingly crown | 1 May T.A. 3019, Coronation of the King
« Reply #6 on: November 29, 2017, 10:26:55 PM »
There had no doubt been some still considered the Rohirrim savages. Their thoughts...the rumors...nothing had been said in front of the princess at least, and so ​​Lothíriel​ was unaware if some of her kinsmen ​spoke cruel things to or about their saviors. She had heard much praise among the men once they had returned from Mordor, though. Most of the praise came from her father and brothers, of course, but the princess had spent time among the soldiers in the Cormallen and heard the stories. Every man who had went to war, whether they had parted ways with the new King before the Dagorlad or stood before the forces of Mordor side-by-side, had praise to sing of the valor and bravery of the Rohirrim and their King. ​Éo​mer's affirmation that her people had been kind eased her concerns some.

​Then ​Éo​mer pressed the point he was previously making of her role in their previous meeting. She smiled behind the wine glass in hand at his words, offering a soft shrug of shoulders in turn. "I was a poor excuse for a companion, then, for I parted ways with you soon after meeting," she teased. The glass was settled in front of her, fingers idling along the base of it as she briefly considered the question concerning her leg. "My leg is fairing better now, thank you for asking." Indeed, the previous limp was now gone, something both the princess and her healer were pleased to see.

"Your predecessor was my darling brother. I fear he went off to find a lady even more lovely than I." She had seen his dark hair briefly as she fetched the ale for the King. And truly she could not blame him for wandering off: it was a time to celebrate, not babysit a woman who was more than capable of handling herself. Besides, ever present was Berelmor, having an ale a few tables away but with ​​​Lothíriel​ in his line of sight. When he offered up the idea of visiting to learn more, the woman could only smile. "I would love to come to Rohan some day, ​Éomer-King." The times of darkness had passed. The hanging threat of Sauron and his machinations were now gone. Why should she not travel there? "And perhaps some day you will visit Dol Amroth in turn."

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