A/N: My first LOTR FF! So please be kind, this is completly AU and based on another story I was writing. Your Reviews are very much apprecated.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, in small sandbox...
Summary: As Eomer marries Lothirel of Dol Amroth he know he loves another...
My wedding feast. Surely I should be happy on the night I swear myself to you, oh my dear Lothrieil. You are beautiful, my sweet bride, yet it is not your eyes that I long to stare at, nor your lips I long to kiss. It is not you that captivates my eyes this night. My Lady love sits nearby, her laughter makes my heart soar as high as the mountains and her voice. Oh her voice, it holds the sweetness of berries and the timbre of rich cream, a gentle accent...
My faithless eyes stray across her snow white skin, they linger on the berry lips, gaze at the eyes the deep green eyes, the colour of the deepest glades of a forest, my fingers twitch, longing to enfold her autumn toned hair...
Oh my dear wife, what sadness is mine to love another's lady, to know she cares only for him! To watch her with him is such sweet torture, for if she leaves then surely that would be worse. His hand brushes a stray tendril away from her face. Inside I weep. Her eyes flick and meet mine; she raises a toast, and drinks to me. I bow my head and smile and in return she smiles for me, her love turns also, the Elven prince smiles as he raises his glass. I turn away after a moment, my shame too much too bear.
You catch my eye and it triples as I see your love in your smile, yet you my dove, my sweet lady are not the one I love. The one I love is I lion to your dove, her beauty burns where your shines softly, your peaceful nature against her fiery spirit... The way her eyes spakle and catch my gaze against your meek shyness. In my own body I am at war.
At war with my foolish heart, my searching soul, and my knowing mind. My heart and soul yearn for this distant maid, this sun in my sky while my mind knows that you are my wife, and that I should be grateful for you, for your love. You my sweet soul would not understand this torture in my heart and soul, this war.
I look towards Aragorn, to my king and find compassion in his eyes. He perhaps understands my torture, but instead I think his compassion is for my secondary fear for my Sister, my dear pregnant sister. As we stand and make our way out of the room I find myself seeking a pair of green eyes. They meet mine and she smiles and bows.
As we walk to our my room I beg your forgiveness silently for it is not you I desire, it is another who I may never have.
I look up and see you my dear wife off all these long years gazing down at me. Your sweetness has been tempered by strength all these years, and yet it is not you that I miss, not you I long to see one last time. You seem sad, I know why, my face has taken on that far away wistful look I tried to hide but never could.
You know, I think, that I love another yet never have you spoken. A tear falls away down my cheek. There is so much I should have done and said, I should have loved you more, for my indifference has caused you pain, and though I love you my dearest I loved her more.
You step away as do our children. Another figure steps forwards. A dark cloak hides their face and then a slender hand removes the hood.
Her dark green eyes still sparkle as she leans down beside me. Her sweet berry lips smile at me and as she says my name I feel as though the years have fallen away. "Eomer," she says so softly. And with her words I begin to float away. I hear her voice saying something, others join her. But it's too late. I am leaving. My last sight her smile. And at last my heart is full as I can pretend that she cares as I drift away, my hand in hers.
She smiles at him the Elven maid my husband loves. I watch his face turn from wistful sadness, to wonderment and love. His eyes drift shut still looking at her. "Good night good king," she says as he slips away. Her prince and her share a glance their sadness evident and then she stands and turns to me. And as she bows to me I find my self not hating her as I did for so long...
But rather I envy her, the man I loved has gone beyond happy and content just because he saw her face. And her. Her beauty had not faded, I remember her last visit ten years before but more than that I remember the poem my husband had composed to her.
It had held such tenderness and regret, I can see it in her beauty, her strength, she is everything I am not, strong, proud, a warrior. I find her in front of me. Her pain and sorrow evident in the way she smiles so gently at me. An apology in her eyes. And strangely I think how much more sad it would have been had she loved him.
For I would never have known him and had his children, would never have had the small amount of his love that I had. As she departs I find my hatred and bitterness for her sweeping away. And with it my resentment for myself, that I had not been equal to her, that I had not been what Eomer desired. I look back too my love and see his smile. My tears are bittersweet as I go to tell those who wait that he is gone.