One Last Kiss - Part 7
Lothíriel silently walked up behind her husband and started trailing kisses down his neck with her arms wrapped around him. With a small moan, Rohan's King slowly turned around to return the kiss. "You know, love, I am expected in court today...."
The Queen groaned, "Do you have to, darling? We could spend all day together...just like this- ohhh- without a worry or care in the world."
"Alas, I fear that if we spend much more time like this, Elfwine shall have to replace me today."
"Ohhh...then by all means, have our son replace you. He has proved his worth. Come now, it would be just you and me, all alone for today...we could dismiss the guards."
Éomer broke the embrace. "As tempting as it sounds, I fear I shall have to pass. King Elessar will wonder where I am if I send our son into Harad instead of myself."
Lothíriel grumbled. "He cannot fill my bed, but he can go to Harad. You, however, can do both. I strongly suggest that you choose the former."
Éomer shook his head. "Do not make seriously consider it, love. I shall return soon enough...I go only as far as Khand, and then you shall have me in your bed for the rest of eternity." At that, Lothíriel sharply slapped her husband discontentedly and promptly strode out of the sitting room they were currently in and into the King's private chambers.
Éomer resisted the strong urge to follow her and instead walked out into the hallway and proceeded to slouch into the dining hall, where he was met by a delicious breakfast that was one of Meduseld's few thanks to putting up with the nerve-racking court life everyday. Sighing, he poked at his food a bit before deciding that he had best eat what he could just in case the Gondorian King came early. He was in a bad mood, and he hoped that if he at least had breakfast his anger would be lessened somewhat. Even he pitied anyone who disturbed him in this hour of the morning.
An hour after noon, King Elessar of the House of Telcontar rode through the gates of Edoras in all his glory. They had been riding since sunrise and were still a bit behind schedule. That most likely had to do with the fact that not only the horses were exhausted, but the love of Gondor was the only thing that kept the Men awake in their saddles. Only the lords appeared unfatigued, but inwardly all were being tortured by the hot sun, lord or not, save Legolas Thranduilion, the Silvan Prince.
Aragorn heard the trumpets ring once. Did that mean friend or foe? Friend...yes, now he remembered. One blow meant that it was a friend that had passed into Edoras and was headed towards Meduseld. They recognized the White Tree, then. Good...that would make things much simpler.
Through the glare of the sun, the King saw Éomer sprinting down into the city to meet him. Aragorn smiled. It seemed the Rohan was just as welcoming as it had always been.
"Hail King Elessar of Gondor!" Éomer bowed low before his friend.
"Westu Éomer hál (Hail Éomer King)!" Aragorn dismounted and did the same. "I trust that you are ready?"
"Aye, we have all provisions needed and are ready to depart."
Faramir, who had taken this carefree moment to greet his brother-in-law, then interrupted them. With a quick bow to his King, Faramir turned to Éomer and proceeded to assure him that his sister was in good health. Aragorn rolled his eyes. Éomer always had been too protective of Éowyn.
By the time the two friends were done chatting a few minutes later, there were no stragglers left and the two companies were quite anxious to depart. Giving Lothíriel, who had got out of bed to forgive her husband, a quick, gentlemanly kiss and the promise of a warm bed when he returned, Éomer gave the signal to depart after Elessar.
Aragorn had long since decided that Arwen and Lothíriel would be good company for each other, if only they met more often. They certainly acted similar enough. Perhaps he could persuade Éomer to leave Rohan in Elfwine's hands a few months from now so that the two ladies could meet. It might even give them both a day off of work. He grinned devilishly. With Arwen, Lothíriel and Éowyn all occupied, the local tavern in Minas Tirith would soon find some new, very royal, customers.