Sea Sickness
Title: Sea Sickness
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Lothiriel, Eomer, Amrothos.
Word Count: 829
Summary: She may be a diplomat, but that does not mean she is pleased about his presence in the least.
Author's Notes: I haven't posted anything on here in so long. It's really just a little drabble I got hit with because I wanted to see Lothiriel and Eomer at sea.
Lothiriel tried to focus on the sea before her. If she looked intent enough, she could act as though she simply wasn't aware of the pointed look her brother was giving her or the way the poor king of Rohan clutched at the side of the ship. Even though she kept her eyes forward she could see Amrothos' look from across the deck. She knew he knew she could see him. She ignored him.
It wasn't that she found any pleasure in watching Eomer King suffer, she just didn't want to help him. And, Amrothos was perfectly capable of crossing the deck and helping him himself.
In the end she would give in. Lothiriel was a diplomat, after all. Her brothers were warriors and sailors at heart and, aside from Erchirion who had taken a deep interest in politics though Elphir would be the one to inherit, preferred defending their city to actually ruling it. Lothiriel, however, had watched her father as he ruled with keen eyes and fascination since she'd been old enough to understand what he did. When her father and brothers had left for war they had entrusted Dol Amroth to her.
Dol Amroth was her home, its people were her responsibility. She had helped prepare for the returning soldiers, and for those who would not return, she had kept their city secured, and took care of her people. She'd hardly slept the whole while, but Dol Amroth was her home and she would protect it.
The war was over now, however, and she was no fool. She knew too well why the newly crowned king of Rohan might travel to their small city so far from his home. It hadn't helped that her brothers took care to sing his praises whenever she might be near. She did not approve. She would not be taken from her city and family when there was so much left to do.
She risked a glance at Eomer. The sea did not agree with him. His legs had not yet accustomed to the strange motion of the ship and the green tint to his face betrayed the sea sickness he was so intent on hiding. Some part of her was sorry for this; sea sickness on the first time out at sea had put many a man off from sailing all together and she considered that a sad fact for any man. Amrothos should have known better than to invite him along on their outing.
With a sigh that seemed wrenched from her, she abandoned her post along the bow of the ship. It was generally advised that one not approach someone struck with sea sickness as it often took no more than the sight of it to make one sea sick as well. Lothiriel had never been sea sick in her life (this was a lie, but she glared fiercely when ever any of her brothers made any mention of the isolated incident when she was ten and thus she was allowed to continue boasting her claim).
Eomer kept his eyes averted when she neared. Reluctantly she placed her hand on his forearm. “Do not focus on the ship, my Lord.” He gave her a slanting glance. “Straighten up.” Her hand on his back was insistent and he rolled his shoulders back, coming up to a height she had not been able to appreciate from a distance. “Look out at the horizon. Do not focus on any one point, instead gaze out at it.” He made a gruff sound, but did as instructed.
“You should feel better soon enough. Please do not allow a moment's sea sickness to hinder your appreciation of the sea.”
After several minutes of gazing out at the horizon, her hand still firm on his back, he risked a glance at her. “Well, I am glad that whatever I have done to deserve your strict avoidance has not interfered with that sailor's desire in you to see everyone enjoy the sea.”
Diplomat or not, sailor or not, Lothiriel remained strong in her disapproval of his presence. She refused to look at him, intently staring out at the horizon instead. “You should have words with my brother, my Lord. He has been watching you suffer for some time now, I believe.”
“So have you.” She kept her face blank. “Luckily you saved me before I became truly sick. Hardly the appropriate impression to make on a princess. Though, I can not imagine it would be worse than the one I have already made.”
Across the deck Amrothos was straining to hear their conversation without coming any closer. She graced him with a glare.
“There's no need to worry, my lady.” Finally she looked at him. Something in his eyes glinted. “I have no intention of taking you from your home without your approval.”
Lothiriel could have kicked herself at the blush she knew she was sporting.
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Lothiriel, Eomer, Amrothos.
Word Count: 829
Summary: She may be a diplomat, but that does not mean she is pleased about his presence in the least.
Author's Notes: I haven't posted anything on here in so long. It's really just a little drabble I got hit with because I wanted to see Lothiriel and Eomer at sea.
Lothiriel tried to focus on the sea before her. If she looked intent enough, she could act as though she simply wasn't aware of the pointed look her brother was giving her or the way the poor king of Rohan clutched at the side of the ship. Even though she kept her eyes forward she could see Amrothos' look from across the deck. She knew he knew she could see him. She ignored him.
It wasn't that she found any pleasure in watching Eomer King suffer, she just didn't want to help him. And, Amrothos was perfectly capable of crossing the deck and helping him himself.
In the end she would give in. Lothiriel was a diplomat, after all. Her brothers were warriors and sailors at heart and, aside from Erchirion who had taken a deep interest in politics though Elphir would be the one to inherit, preferred defending their city to actually ruling it. Lothiriel, however, had watched her father as he ruled with keen eyes and fascination since she'd been old enough to understand what he did. When her father and brothers had left for war they had entrusted Dol Amroth to her.
Dol Amroth was her home, its people were her responsibility. She had helped prepare for the returning soldiers, and for those who would not return, she had kept their city secured, and took care of her people. She'd hardly slept the whole while, but Dol Amroth was her home and she would protect it.
The war was over now, however, and she was no fool. She knew too well why the newly crowned king of Rohan might travel to their small city so far from his home. It hadn't helped that her brothers took care to sing his praises whenever she might be near. She did not approve. She would not be taken from her city and family when there was so much left to do.
She risked a glance at Eomer. The sea did not agree with him. His legs had not yet accustomed to the strange motion of the ship and the green tint to his face betrayed the sea sickness he was so intent on hiding. Some part of her was sorry for this; sea sickness on the first time out at sea had put many a man off from sailing all together and she considered that a sad fact for any man. Amrothos should have known better than to invite him along on their outing.
With a sigh that seemed wrenched from her, she abandoned her post along the bow of the ship. It was generally advised that one not approach someone struck with sea sickness as it often took no more than the sight of it to make one sea sick as well. Lothiriel had never been sea sick in her life (this was a lie, but she glared fiercely when ever any of her brothers made any mention of the isolated incident when she was ten and thus she was allowed to continue boasting her claim).
Eomer kept his eyes averted when she neared. Reluctantly she placed her hand on his forearm. “Do not focus on the ship, my Lord.” He gave her a slanting glance. “Straighten up.” Her hand on his back was insistent and he rolled his shoulders back, coming up to a height she had not been able to appreciate from a distance. “Look out at the horizon. Do not focus on any one point, instead gaze out at it.” He made a gruff sound, but did as instructed.
“You should feel better soon enough. Please do not allow a moment's sea sickness to hinder your appreciation of the sea.”
After several minutes of gazing out at the horizon, her hand still firm on his back, he risked a glance at her. “Well, I am glad that whatever I have done to deserve your strict avoidance has not interfered with that sailor's desire in you to see everyone enjoy the sea.”
Diplomat or not, sailor or not, Lothiriel remained strong in her disapproval of his presence. She refused to look at him, intently staring out at the horizon instead. “You should have words with my brother, my Lord. He has been watching you suffer for some time now, I believe.”
“So have you.” She kept her face blank. “Luckily you saved me before I became truly sick. Hardly the appropriate impression to make on a princess. Though, I can not imagine it would be worse than the one I have already made.”
Across the deck Amrothos was straining to hear their conversation without coming any closer. She graced him with a glare.
“There's no need to worry, my lady.” Finally she looked at him. Something in his eyes glinted. “I have no intention of taking you from your home without your approval.”
Lothiriel could have kicked herself at the blush she knew she was sporting.