#tvertimot

The young king of Rohan is still trying to get used to his new life after the Great War and is just learning how to rule a country. Following his council’s advice he decided to marry a young noble born Lady that seems to be a perfect match for him and a great Queen material. A coldly calculated political move. But what if his decision had some hidden, egoistic motives to it? And what if the lady already gave her heart away to someone who is far away? Let’s find out together. Let’s dive deep down inside both of their minds.

Chapter 9 | Masterlist

Éomer was saved from having to confront both his sister and himself by endless clothes fittings and other wedding related trivialities. Ever since the interrupted conversation with his sister he felt a weird uneasiness that he could not name. He tried to ignore it but he felt his body getting restless and tense. 

He most definitely noticed that with every passing hour he got more and more irritated. Everybody seemed to be having a long list of carefully prepared questions in a way that would annoy him the most. Wasn’t it all supposed to be organised by the assigned council? Why were they bothering him with all this nonsense? He had more important things on his mind! 

But even the things that laid well within his competencies were irritating him much. Everyone seemed so unprepared. He couldn’t tell if he was more embarrassed by the level of chaos the local court presented or ashamed of how disorganized his own people seemed to be.

His irritation OF COURSE had nothing to do with how nervous he was getting as today he was to finally meet again with Lady Nartíhl. He was not nervous. Not at all! And anyone who would dare to suggest such a thing… well they would be punished somehow, Éomer would find a way to get such thoughts out of their head. 

Why was he even thinking about this? What was he thinking about? Well, he definitely was not thinking about the mining development plan that was presented to him. Yet again he drifted away during a meeting.  - Do I bore you, your highness? - asked the man who was trying to explain the local mining system to his future king.

- No, of course not, this is fascinating. - Éomer ran his hand through his face and sighed. He tried to sound convincing but it turned out rather sarcastic.

The other man seemed pretty abashed and as the atmosphere was getting more and more tense, lord Dúngar decided to step in and save the day, by saying: - Maybe we shall postpone the session, what do you say, my king? We will gladly listen to the rest of your work later. - he gave a half smile and nodded to the man standing in front of them 

- Yes, maybe we should.

Éomer stood up promptly not leaving much room and time for any courtesy and stormed out of the room visibly irritated. 

 ***

Éomer went straight to his chamber and started to undress himself. He felt a need to wash himself and change his clothes. Suddenly everything about his look was unsatisfying to him, even his hair. He had no idea why. Surely not because he was about to attend the final marriage contract negotiation in which lady Nartíhl would take part and could see him closely. It definitely had nothing to do with all of this.

His personal servant stormed into the room soon after him, visibly tired and short of his breath after having chased his master through the hallway. - My lord - the young man tired to ask between sharp breaths - why such a hurry?

- I need to change my clothes - replied the King while trying to untie the strings in his shirt.

- Let me help you, my lord - the servant rushed to help the king undo the ties. - No need to rush, we still got some time. I’ve been thinking what you should wear for today’s meeting for the whole day, my lord, so you would impress everybody.

- I am a king and I do not need to impress any one, especially not with my look - Éomer scolded the servant angrily, barely restraining himself from raising his voice. - I am sure our hosts are not this shallow to judge us by our clothing and garments. 

Who are you trying to fool, Éomer? He did not believe these worlds himself. Yet he refused to admit that and let all those feelings sink in.

-Please forgive me, my lord. This is not what I meant.

- I know, I know. Just bring these clothes over. 

So he allowed to be dressed in some fancy clothes and have a fancy hairstyle done. Apparently having your hair pinned up was fashionable for men here. He tried to fight so hard the need to fit in with his looks, he was a king, not a teenager trying to fit in. But deep inside he wanted to impress his fiancee. To make her like him even if it would be at least for his looks. 

***

Éomer sat in a round room with his council on both sides. The room was pretty cosy - a burgundy tapestry on the walls, a lot of books on the shelves on each wall. A warm afternoon sun glimpsing through the window. It could be almost nice but Éomer could feel his face turning more and more red with every passing second. 

Obviously due to the sun and the ridiculous clothes and not because he sure as hell was not stressed to finally meet his Lady. 

He rested his chin on his palm and taped fingers of his other hand on the table while waiting for his host to finally show on the final reading and signing of the marital contract.

He tried to calm his mind, so he started to list all the horses he had in his stable. Then he tried to name all of the infantry military formations he knew. The moment he was just about to start listing all his hounds he heard the doors being open. - Our noble lord Idhoril and lady Nartíhl  - it was announced. 

Éomer and all his men stood up. The young king felt his head spinning, he rested his hand on the table to steady himself but he knew it made him look nonchalant in a bad way. Get yourself together, Éomer, you fool. You're a grown man, a warrior, a KING for Bema’s sake! No matter what you’ll do the deal is practically sealed and she will be your wife, that’s all. Just breathe. 

But the breathing part lasted only as long as lord’s Idhoril council and himself were entering the room. At the very end of the cortege was her. Just as beautiful as he remembered. Yet so different. 

A simple purple dress that brought up her skin tone. Her long wavy hair pinned up on both her temples with dragonfly-shaped red pines. So serious, yet so youthful. But her face was far from a girly lighthearted expression. She looked tired. Her cheeks sunken, her eyes red and swollen. Like she hasnąt slept in a long time. 

But Éomer did not have much chance to contemplate this. Soon after she arrived he felt a subtle yet noticeable scent of flowers and frankincense that made his head spin. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Focus, Éomer. It’s just like on a battlefield, Just shut it all down and focus. You are able to kill, so you are able to listen to your wedding contract being cited.  - Your highness. Please let us welcome you. We are honored to host you and your noble court in this fortress - lord Idhoril nodded his head and looked around the table.  - It is our honour to be here - Éomer heard his own voice as if someone also said these words - Lady Nartíhl. - he finally dared to look her straight in the eyes and smiled gently. 

She looked him shortly in the eyes but shied away and looked down immediately. She grimaced her face in what Éomer assumed was an attempt to smile at him. Starting nice, he thought to himself. - Shall we begin? - Lord Dúngar, standing on Éomer's right, asked. The young king looked around. Everyone was standing awkwardly. What were they waiting for? - Ekhm - lord Dúngar coughed significantly - my king?

Oh! They are waiting for me! - Yes yes, of course. - Éomer sat down and so did the rest. He noticed he was sitting a bit too far away from the table so he tried to push his chair closer but the legs of the chair got stuck on the wooden floor texture and he ended up jumping awkwardly on the chair, causing a very lund thump on the floor and not moving an inch forward. Well, at least Nartíhl looked at him for a moment. 

And so the citing has started. No changes, everything as agreed. 

When the reading was over Idhoril and one of his advisers signed the document. Then Dúngar. Then Nartíhl. At the end the paper was handed over to Éomer. He noticed how pretty and elaborate Nartíhl’s signature was. Just as could be expected from someone of her upbringing. Similar to what he saw on the Gondorian documents. Even though his uncle made sure he trained his letters a lot  when he was a boy (which was a cause of many eager discussions with a raised voice because who had time to train reading and writing if you could just ride your horse and train sword fighting?) he suddenly felt like he barely could write his name down. But he did. He also put his hand down with a fresh ink and smudged Dúngar’s signature a bit and stained his hand with the ink. But it matter not. He was to get married to the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, her lands with all the mines it contained was about to be joined to Rohan and she was about to become his queen. No matter how self conscious he felt he could not help but smirk. His plan worked out.

The contract was signed. 

Yet, no one was leaving the table. Éomer just sat there, staring at the document. Lord Idhoril’s advisor must have seen his hesitation. - Is there anything else, your highness? - Yes.. - Éomer wavered - I was wondering if I could get a chance to speak with our dear Lady privately. 

He could feel the air in the room turn tense. - Of course not alone - he added. What a stupid custom, he thought to himself. In the riddermark no one would care. They were officially engaged, what would he do to her? But he was aware enough of the local customs. They were supposed to be under surveillance.  - Well, what do you think, my dear - lord Idhoril turned to his daughter and asked her. -Of course, my lord. - a shy and shaky voiced answer.  - Good. But first let’s dine. I believe we would all appreciate a little rest now. You shall have some time to talk in the evening. 

Nartíhl springed out of her seat just as if she was waiting for these words. She nodded her head gently and left the room with two of her servants. 

Éomer instinctively stood up and so did everyone else at the table. He traced her down with his eyes trying to fight the amusement growing inside of him. All these months he built up her image as a mighty goddess in his head. But so far she turned out to be a shy young girl. He definitely felt his self-esteem rising. 

- Shall we? Chapter 11

TAGLIST:

@konartiste @emmanuellececchi

The young king of Rohan is still trying to get used to his new life after the Great War and is just learning how to rule a country. Following his council’s advice he decided to marry a young noble born Lady that seems to be a perfect match for him and a great Queen material. A coldly calculated political move. But what if his decision had some hidden, egoistic motives to it? And what if the lady already gave her heart away to someone who is far away?Let’s find out together. Let’s dive deep down inside both of their minds.

Chapter 10 | Masterlist

Nartíhl was sitting in her assigned seat in the dining room in the western wing. 

This is the room where her family had most of their meals when staying in this mansion and she occupied this seat at every meal they had there.

But it gave her very little comfort. She was bouncing her leg and biting her cheek without even realising it. 

-Stop it. - her brother Rinvil, who was playing the chaperon here, scolded her. 

-Mhm? - she looked at him surprised

-You always do this when you’re nervous - he pointed at her leg. 

-Oh.

-Don’t do this, it makes you look bad. And sit straight. - he said in a calm voice. 

She straightened herself in her seat. He meant good for her, she knew that.

But just as she shifted her position and managed to control her leg and mouth she started to tap her fingers on the table. 

Rinvil rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. They’ve been waiting here for less than 10 minutes but it felt like an eternity. What could he want from her? 

The contract was signed and they were about to get married in a few days? If he had any negotiation to do he should have done it with her father earlier. After all, what else could there be to be done? The transaction was confirmed and there was nothing left, right?  

They sat in complete silence so when the servants opened the door she jumped in her seat. 

-King Éomer and lady Éowyn. - the servant announced. 

Nartíhl stood up and quickly fixed her dress and hair. 

The young king entered the room, followed by his sister. She finally had a chance to take a closer look at her fiancé. Previously she was too focused on everything that was happening around her, she also felt like with so many people in the room it would be more acceptable not to look directly at him. But now there was nowhere to hide, he was here specifically to see her and speak to her. And so she looked at him.  

He was handsome. She had to admit it. Especially with his hair up, she really liked that on him. He looked young, with a lot of freckles on his cheeks and nose which she found very cute. But there was something in his face, eyes and a few wrinkles that made him look much older than he was. She knew this look well, she saw this in many men in her life that came back from the war.

He seemed rather confident but there was a hint of hesitation in him, she noticed this earlier that day. 

And just as she was giving a very intense look to his face he looked her straight in the eyes, to which she raised her eyebrows slightly - unintentionally, she was just taken by surprise. He seemed to have noticed it and raised a corner of his mouth in a rakish half-smirk. She could feel her cheek turn deep pink at this and she dropped her eyes. He must have been flattered with her embarrassment but she had no strength in her to try to act more confident than she was. She was terrified and she saw no use in hiding it. 

They were standing there, looking at each other. No one said anything. Their company clearly was just trying to blend into the background and Éomer was giving Nartíhl a chance to start. But she remained silent, now looking right ahead with an empty stare. Éomer cleared his throat. 

-Lady Nartíhl - he started. 

-Your royal highness - she replied with a husky voice.

-Since we are … well in the position that we are, why don’t we address one another by our names. What do you think?

Well, I think that I don’t even know you, we wouldn’t have to be going through this social hell if you wouldn’t propose this and I really would like to know where are we going with this - she thought to herself. But she couldn't say any of it. So she just nodded.

- Please, call me Éomer. - he smiled encouragingly at her.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. He waited quite awkwardly  at her to speak but she only dropped her eyes to her hand and started to play with her fingers.

-So, Nartíhl, you must  be… well, why don’t we take a seat. 

They both sat down and so did their siblings.

-So - Éomer took a pause. - How…are you doing?

Nartíhl was so taken aback by the triviality of this question that her head shot upwards and she didn’t even try to hide a pure confusion on her face.

-Errr… I’m - she cleared her throat, her raspy voice did not sound like she was doing well. - I am doing well, my - she repeated with a firm voice this time but stopped when she realized he wanted to call him by his title. - Thank you for asking. How are you finding yourself here?

At this point the air in the room was so tense you could literally cut it with a knife. 

Rinvil found Éowyn with his eyes and gave her an abashed look. He thought to himself “what is this and why are we here?” and it must have been very clear on his face because Éowyn only shrugged and shook her head. 

-It’s a nice horse you have.

Éowyn unconsciously snorted a laugh but managed to hide it with a pretended sneeze. 

-My horse. Oh, yes, Lada. She was a gift from my parents. I’ve had her for so many years it feels as if she was my friend. 

Éomer let out a singular chuckle. 

-Do you like animals?

-I do think they tend to be better companions than people sometimes. They always listen, never judge. They won’t betray you or hurt you with their words.

Nartíhl gave him a warm look and for the first time in at least a few days she genuinely smiled. It comforted her to hear him say such words. She agreed with them. It seemed that they found their first common ground. 

They started to share some of their favorite memories with their horses and their most memorable riding trips. She felt less intimidated, she almost forgot how scared she was and she started to think that maybe he is just a man, maybe even a friendly one. The mood kept getting looser and warmer but everything took an abrupt turn when she mentioned Bronandîr. She did not say his name nor did she mention the nature of their relationships, she simply said that she was cleaning her horse in a barn with her friend.

She was finishing a quite funny story:

-And I would definitely fall and probably break a bone if he hadn’t caught me!

She expected the king to laugh with her but his smile got much smaller and his brows narrowed.

-He?

- Yes, my friend.

- From this story I’d assume you were rather close with him. 

- Yes, I would say so. We have known each other since we were kids.

The silence that followed was as thick as the one in the beginning but now it felt much heavier.

Nartíhl was desperately looking for a way she could bring the previous mood back and she was searching for any other stories or anecdotes she could share with him.

-Did you know that every other year we hold a big fair where the most beautiful horses are being presented? It’s the best occasion t buy a good horse. 

-Yes, I do know it well, my lady - he interrupted her, visibly irritated.

-Oh, excuse me, my Lo.. Éomer, I didn't mean to discredit you. 

-Yes, I do know that as well - he replied, now with both teeth and fists clenched. 

At that moment a knock was heard on the door. Everyone except for Éomer raised their heads and looked with a surprised look on the door. After a short moment of hesitation Rinvil stood up and opened the door. 

-I am here to speak to Lord Éomer.

Nartíhl could hear Éomer mumble a very vulgar set of swear words under his breath. 

-What for? - he shouted loudly. 

-Lord Dúngar says they cannot find one chest that contains some important documents and they need your decision on what should be done now. 

-You’ve been testing my patience the whole day - Éomer said quietly - Can’t you really do ONE thing properly ! - he shouted and slammed his hand on the table with a loud slap. Everything that was on it shook and fell over the table and on the floor.

Nartíhl flinched. When she heard the stump she felt like an icicle dropped in her stomach. 

The young king was resting his forehead on his hand set on the table. He was looking down. His fiancée was looking closely at him. He did not really seem angry anymore. He tried to hide his face and she noticed a slight hint of blush on his cheeks. It’s more like he looked embarrassed.

-I’m sorry, Nartíhl. As you can see I am needed elsewhere. - he said with a sigh and stood up. - We’ll see each other later. - he said quietly and walked out the room shaking his head, his sister following him in a rush. 

Nartíhl was in such a shock she didn't even stand up when the king did, even though she should.

-What was that? - her brother said rather lightly but his mood quickly changed once he noticed his sister was on the verge of bursting into tears.

-Hey, hey don’t cry. It's not a time to cry. 

She looked at him with tears starting to accumulate in her eyes. 

Rinvil came to her and kneeled right in front of her chair. 

-There’s no need for you to be scared you know? - he said while taking her hand in his. 

-But what if he gets angry at me like this. 

-Then he will. So what? He will and you will either fight back or shut up and try not to upset him like that again. - she looked at him in disbelief. For him everything was a ‘just’, everything was so simple and easy. 

-Don’t look at me like that. Listen, he really is a good man. 

Nartíhl snorted. Rinvil sighed with annoyance. 

-He is a good man - he continues- but he is a man. A man who’s been through a lot. Even if he will get angry at you,and you’d be naive to think that there will be no fall out between you two, you’d be a queen and not a clumsy servant, that’s first of all. And secondly, I’m sorry to be the one to say this but if that made you cry - it’s time to wake up, love. 

She gave him a look of indignation and disbelief. 

-Don’t give me that look - he said with a cold chuckle. 

-This is your new life, darling, whether you like it or not. There is nothing neither of us can do about it and you know nothing in this world can make father change his mind. 

It hit Nartíhl with a full force, like a ship full of stones. It was her new life and it was approaching her at full speed. For this whole time, even though she rationally knew it all was going to happen but she didn't really believe it. She felt like it was some sort of misunderstanding that's going to be dispelled soon and she's going to go back to her life. She also knew that her brother was right and he wasn’t saying it all to hurt her. This wake up call was not pleasant but it was exactly what she needed to prepare herself for what was coming before it’s too late. If she was going to swim, she needed to take a deep breath, otherwise she’d drown. 

She nodded slowly.

-Yeah, I guess I have to … adapt? - she said quietly, dubting more and more in herself with each word. 

-Remember one thing, love. You will be a queen and his wife. Remember that and believe in your dignity. If you won't believe in that, no one else will. Even if inside you’ll feel like a pile of filth, outside you need to look and act like you believe you are the most important person in the world, do you understand? 

She nodded. 

-Good - he smiled softly and cupped her cheek. After that he slowly stood up but continued his speech. 

-He’s a king, and you should always show the due respect - he said with a moral high ground, but he’s also, if not not above all, your husband and a man. And as such you should treat him.

-Bronandîr would never act like this - she said grumpily and quietly.

He froze and for a moment she thought he would get angry at her but he actually looked rather amused. 

-And what makes you think so?

-I knew him well and he would never do this!

-I will let you believe this only because it’s almost your wedding day and you will need a nice fairytale to daydream about when away from home. But for the future- and I can't believe it’s me you hear this from - try taking men’s words and promises with a grain of salt, will you. 

And with that he left the room.

Nartíhl  took a deep, shaky breath. She knew that somewhere in all of this was a chance for her for a good life. 

It wouldn’t have to be the happiest but it could be safe and comfortable. Becoming a queen was an honour, it really was an honour for her it’s much more then she would expect for herself. But at this moment she was not able to look at the bright side of this. 

She felt like she was expected to go with a joyful strut, with her head held up into the craziest storm she has ever seen.

TAGLIST:

The young king of Rohan is still trying to get used to his new life after the Great War and is just learning how to rule a country. Following his council’s advice he decided to marry a young noble born Lady that seems to be a perfect match for him and a great Queen material. A coldly calculated political move. But what if his decision had some hidden, egoistic motives to it? And what if the lady already gave her heart away to someone who is far away? Let’s find out together. Let’s dive deep down inside both of their minds.

Chapter 8 | Masterlist

Nartíhl liked horseback riding but only if it was for fun. The minute she had to get somewhere far on a horse she hated every minute of it. Even though riding a carriage could get uncomfortable, she preferred it much for the longer distances. But her father insisted that they should ride all the way to the fortress on the horses’ back - it was easier, quicker and after all she was about to be crowned queen of the horse masters. 

She was riding to the land she owned, it was supposed to be her safe place and home, at least that’s how she felt until now. She felt as if she was a pig being transferred to a butcher’s place. Or a lamb that was to be sacrificed. 

Her mind was jumping between the memories of the last moments with her love and a very brief memoirs of meeting her future husband. 

One moment she recalled with every detail how she was lying on a flowery meadow with Bronandîr - sun highlighting his grey eyes looking at her with deep love.  -I will worship you until the end of the world and one day longer. 

Her heart filled with warmth. She felt loved. She felt wanted.

No, stop it! She scolded herself. You are to marry another man! You need to forget. Or at least try. 

But how was she to forget all the nights spent in his embrace? All the smiles and kisses. All the whispers, dreams and promises. 

No! She needed to forget them. It would make this easier. 

But she knew this could never be easy. Neither forgetting the men she loved, nor trying to love the men she only met once.

She tried hard to recall that one time. The coronation of the king Elesar. She did not pay much attention to the king of Rohan. She was mostly focused on the beautiful decoration inside the great hall of Minas Tirith, she was thinking about the jokes and gossip she wanted to tell her cousins and about with whom she was yet to dance. 

While her father was talking to king Éomer, she hid behind lord Idhoril. 

She was always afraid of the Rohirrims. She knew the simple folk tales were usually exaggerated and as an educated woman she should not believe them, but all the gossip and legends still had an impact on her impression of them. She felt intimidated. The man was tall, seemed strong and dangerous. She could not say he was ugly but he was different to most men she knew.  

Even though he knew the etiquette and how to behave on a social occasion she felt there was something ribald about him. On her way out the ball she passed the table where the king of Rohan sat with his people. She caught him laughing loudly at a very inappropriate joke one of his soldiers made and just a moment later he looked her straight in the eye and nodded slightly with a smirk on his face. What an impudence.

***

Éomer arrived to the place of their wedding a day before his bride. On the same day his sister and her husband have reached the destination. 

The young king was currently sitting in the window recess bench of the room he was assigned, looking at the dowry lands of his future wife. It was so much different from his land. The landscape was hilly but still so very green. Far away you could see the pale outline of the seashore. The mansion was also much different from his home. Will she like it there? What will she think of the Meduseld? 

He took a sip of his drink and leaned his head against the wall. There was no use in worrying about this now, he said to himself. 

Just a minute later he heard footsteps on the corridor and well known voices. His sister was here. 

He was on his feet, moving toward the door before they even got the chance to knock. 

He opened them, taking the guests by surprise - Faramir’s fist was in the air getting ready to knock, while Éowyn was trying to smoothen his clothes, probably rumpled in the travel cuffer. 

They both looked awkwardly at Éomer who just stared at them with amusement. Faramir straightened himself, his wife soon followed him with a chuckle.  -Well, will you let us in, brother, or do you wish to host us in the corridor?

Éomer only smiled widely at that and embraced his sister in a big hug. -I missed you too, sister. 

Faramir took this occasion to sneak into the chamber. 

Once they were all sat by the fireplace, each of them with a drink in hand, Éowyn decided it was time to end this courtesy of small talk and get to the real talk.  -I want to know EVERYTHING! 

-Well, I think you know all there is to know. I’m not sure what exactly you would like me to tell you.

Éomer shrugged and took a sip of his ale to which Faramir nodded pensively but it all just made Éowyn growl with frustration. -I know NOTHING, brother. Where did this decision come from? How did you met? Did you ask her to marry you yourself? I want to know all the details.

-Of course I did not ask her myself, I’ve only spoken to her once, on Aragorn’s coronation. 

-Hmmm. - Éowyn seemed to be taken aback by this statement. 

-Then where does it all come from? If you only spoke to her once, and from what I managed to see it was not a long nor very engaging conversation. I won’t believe it if you tell me you suddenly started to listen to your council's political advice - she gave her brother an investigating look. 

-I do listen to my council's advice. If they are wise.

-Do you mean if they fall in line with what you're already thinking? - Faramir finally decided to step into the conversation.

-As I said - if they are wise. - Éomer grinned. - But this was actually my idea that my council supported. I can’t believe you have such a bad opinion on me. This is a very good strategic move for both parties and it’s an effect of a mutual agreement. 

Éomer took one more sip of his drink and grabbed a handful of local dried fruit that was lying on a plate in front of them.

Éowyn looked like there were a hundred things on her mind that she wanted to scream out but still not a single word was able to reach her tongue. 

Faramir however seemed very amused.  -So are you trying to tell us that it is not just you being guided by your…

He hesitated with his words and raised his eyebrows. - FARAMIR! - Éowyn scolded her husband and lightly smacked his knee, but both men just chuckled at this remark. 

-Well, I cannot deny that seeing her dancing was in fact very... convincing - Éomer raised his right eyebrow. 

This statement made Éowyn grimace with a mixture of confusion and irritation which made both her husband and brother burst into laughter, more from her reaction than the inappropriate comments. 

-Oh would you two grow up! You act like a pair of youngsters. You are getting married, this is serious Éomer.

At this point the young king had to wipe a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. -My love, do not worry. A bit of laughter never hurt anybody. Besides I believe the future queen will bring enough seriousness with her. Have you seen how she was dressed?

They did all in fact saw how she was dressed when she arrived earlier today. Éomer saw that from the window of his chamber. 

Firstly it looked like dark, stormy clouds approaching them. But slowly the clouds revealed themselves to be an impressive cortege. 

They entered the gate, each horse more beautiful than the previous one, each of the armours and harnesses was a piece of art but Éomer knew straight away to whom he ought to pay his attention. 

Right after the first lines of the guards and the first pennant was the biggest horse ridden by lord Idhoril and right behind him lady Nartíhl on a beautiful black mare. Éomer did not see her face but he knew. Dressed in a long, floating dress, her head covered in a dark veil. From far away it looked black but when the sun glimpsed on her, one could notice that her dress was in fact in a deep purple hue. Just like the pennant before her - a red serpent on a purple background.  -If I did not know there was a wedding to happen in a few days I would say she was mourning - the Gondorian continued his mockery.  -Faramir! -What?! -Now you are really pushing it too far. You know well that it’s her hereditary colors. I’m sure she is just as happy as we are. Éowyn gave a warm and reassuring smile to her brother but he only managed to force himself to respond with a doubtful grimace that was supposed to resemble a smile. His previous good mood was fading away. He felt panic rising inside of him, afraid he would get exposed and judged. He was saved by a knock on the door. Chapter 10

***

I hope you enjoyed. I feel a need to share that in order to get this chapter to a publishable form I had to decipher my notes that I made when I was drunk and trust me - it was a challenge! But I hope I managed ;)