|A Fine Day For Riding
Author: Team McAdams PM
Lothiriel, though she is a terrible rider, begs her husband Eomer to teach her. Much to the dismay of his horse. Runner up in the second challenge at Countries United.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - Eomer & Lothíriel - Words: 1,416 - Reviews: 14 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Published: 08-26-04 - id: 2030907
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N; I wrote this for the challenge at Countries United and I decided to post it on Ffnet too. If you're an E/L writer for Ffnet, please note that now Lothiriel is added on the character choices and be sure to list your E/L stories with her as well!!
Éomer grimaced as Lothíriel lay on top of him in bed, her soft lips showering his skin in sweet kisses.
"Please, darling? I have been begging you to teach me to ride for ages! You have put it off for far too long.. I really do not think I am that horrible."
'No,' he mentally corrected her, 'you are far worse.'
He felt her small hands caress his chest, and a grin came to his lips as she began to dip lower. And then, she stopped. The warmth of her body was gone, and his eyes flew open to find that she had abandoned their bed and stood stretching, her lithe body curving like a cat as she lifted her arms above her head and looked out the windows.
"Lothíriel.." Éomer could only groan.
"Come, my lord, it is a fine day for riding!"
And so here he was, being forcefully dragged down to the stables by his eager wife. Éomer found that she did look rather adorable in the clothing she had stolen for him, and the tunic kept slipping from her shoulder and making him long that they had prolonged their stay in bed.
"Lothíriel, I was thinking about letting you ride..."
"Firefoot?" She interjected, a grin on her face as she hurried to his stall. The horse neighed in pleasure to see his master's lady approach with an apple in her hand. She rubbed her hand over the velvety feel of his fur, the horse nuzzling his nose against her neck before partaking of the offered apple.
"This is treason." Éomer muttered as he glared at his unfaithful stead. Apparently neither master nor horse could resist the Queen of the Mark. "Firefoot is a bit big for you, my love, perhaps another?"
The glare that the King then received was enough to firmly shut his mouth on the matter. He had seen that glare before, when once he had dared to tease his lovely wife about her horrible sewing. Éomer had slept on the floor across the room from his bed for a week.
So, giving in, he set about showing her to properly saddle up a horse. Once they had accomplished that, he took the reins and led them out of the stables. Walking through Edoras, he came to the gate and gave a nod to the guards. "The Queen and I are going for a ride," he glanced up to see Lothíriel preoccupied with speaking to Firefoot, "and be sure that a bed is prepared for me in the Healing Quarters. I fear I shall need it." The guards tried to hard to stifle their laughter.
"Of course, sir." They muttered, but shared a grin as their King passed by them and then swung up in to the saddle with his wife.
She laughed softly with delight as they galloped across the swaying plains. He could not help at smile, for even in his situation, any time with his wife was well spent. Too long were they both kept in, busy with duties as befitting their station.
"Whoa," He murmured to Firefoot, drawing in the reins so that the horse slowly came to a stop. They were far enough away from Edoras to have some privacy, but close enough for safety. He swung out of the saddle and allowed Lothíriel the reins.
"Now, to get Firefoot to begin walking forward, gently squeeze his sides with your heels. Gently." Éomer stressed as he stood back, watching Lothíriel sat up in the saddle. She did as told and Firefoot instantly began forward. Éomer could easily keep up with them at the side. "Are you ready for him to go faster?"
Her glare was enough of an answer. "Squeeze your lower legs against him, a little bit harder, and he'll start to trot." At this, Firefoot shook his head, clearly impatient with this slow pace. Lothíriel did just that, and Firefoot began to go faster. She bounced around for a moment, trying to keep her balance in the saddle and in doing so, she squeezed her legs tightly to the horse. Taking it as a command to go faster, he eagerly took off across the fields.
"Lothíriel!" Éomer sprinted after her, and he could hear her squeal in surprise. She responded by jerking the reins and Firefoot came to a quick halt. It took her by such a shock that she had to grab on to the poor horse's head to keep from flying over him. As he hurriedly caught up to them, he ran his hand down Firefoot's mane and looked up to his haggard wife.
"I am so terrible." She whispered, her hands shaking slightly.
"No, no. That was an honest mistake, many riders do that."
She threw up her arms in disgust and clumsily slid out of the saddle, accidentally kicking Firefoot in the process. He whinnied in protest, and circled away from her while Éomer grabbed the reins. Firefoot nuzzled his master as he watched Lothíriel stalk off. He could not help but find her absolutely attractive when she was like this, though he knew he would be slaughtered if he ever voiced it.
"Lothíriel, where are you going?"
"I am walking back to Dol Amroth, where I know how to steer a ship but not a silly horse!" Her voice sounded tear choked and Éomer hurriedly followed behind her with the wearied Firefoot.
She came to a ridge and a large group of rocks and was forced to halt. Climbing up on one of them, she sat and pulled her knees to her chest. She had only been living in Rohan for six months now, and it was so different from her childhood home. She missed the sea, the smell of the salt, and the sand. Her brothers had taught her how to navigate and steer a ship from an early age, and for all of her life she had excelled at whatever she had touched. Except for this. Here she was, the Queen of the Mark, where horses were valued as people, and she was terrible at riding!
Lothíriel felt her husband's hand on her shoulder, and she twisted to look down at him. He stood by the rock, Firefoot grazing some distance away. "Tell me what troubles you?"
She sighed and turned her gaze to the plains as the wind whipped the grass. The movement was not so unlike the tides of the sea, and it began to soothe her some. "I find that I miss my home. I miss the sea." She whispered, her head bowed a bit. She could almost taste the salt, hear the sea gulls.
She gasped in shock as she felt herself lifted up off the rock and into Éomer's arms. "Will you ever love Rohan?" Éomer whispered into her hair, and she shut her eyes tightly at his question. Could she?
Lothíriel thought over it. The sun rising over the mountains and setting behind them, casting off beautiful colors. The view from Edoras in the morning, when she felt the world was fresh and young. She had once witnessed a group of wild horses galloping over the plains as she and Éomer rode, and it had stolen her heart. She came to Rohan out of her great love for Éomer, and now she found that his love for his country had birthed a love in her as well.
"I already do." She smiled as she whispered, and he kissed her passionately in return. Lowering her back to the ground, he took her hand and led her to Firefoot.
"Come, we should head back for it must be near meal time." He was about to help her back in to the saddle, but she pulled herself up in to it with only a small amount of clumsiness.
He grinned and hoisted himself up behind her, his arms wrapping around her and grasping the reins. Éomer hesitated, however, and instead he placed them in Lothíriel's hands.
"Now, to guide him, you use the reins... No, Lothíriel, not that much! You are making him go in circles!"