Shifting battlefronts

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All hope was lost when, unlooked for, the Riders came out of the North and broke upon the rear of the enemy. Then the fortunes of battle were reversed, and the enemy was driven with slaughter over Limlight.

(Cirion: The Path to Victory)

***

Prince Imrahil was standing by the window looking out over the ocean, which was now glittering serenely in the afternoon sun. He turned round at their entrance, crossed the room with a few quick steps and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"Lothiriel!" he exclaimed, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine father," she reassured him, "just hungry and tired."

He looked her up and down, in his turn taking in her tangled hair, the unfamiliar cloak and bare feet. She was getting rather tired of these close examinations.

"You look exhausted," he burst out.

Then his gaze went to Éomer and his eyes widened when he spotted the black eye the latter sported. Prince Imrahil's face hardened and he drew her protectively to his side.

"What have you done to my daughter?" he demanded to know.

Éomer looked surprised then irritated at this reception. "What did I do to her? Shouldn't you rather ask what she did to me?"

Prince Imrahil bristled. "I'm warning you, Éomer, I don't know what kind of behaviour you think appropriate back home, but if you aspire to my daughter's hand you will treat her with all the respect due to her."

"There is no difference in how I'd treat your daughter back home to how I treat her in Gondor," the King of Rohan snapped back, "I know she's a lady."

Lothiriel had to suppress a grin at this. Was this the same man who had threatened her with a good hiding earlier on? Her father was rather less impressed.

"Then what did you do to earn that black eye?"

"I didn't earn it," Éomer said through clenched teeth, clearly nearing the end of his patience.

"You must have done something..."

Unspoken the words improper advances seemed to hang in the air and the King of Rohan looked as if a trying day had just taken a turn for the worse. Lothiriel decided it was time to intervene.

"Please father," she said, "It's not what you think, it was simply an accident."

"An accident?" Her father looked anything but convinced by this.

"We got caught by the tide and I fell in the water. Éomer pulled me out, but I accidentally hit him in the eye." Although this was the truth the story sounded weak even in her own ears.

"You got caught by the tide?" Imrahil frowned, "My men told me they found you on the North Beach. What were you doing there anyway?"

Lothiriel never got a chance to answer this question, for behind her the door burst open with a bang.

"I told you so!" somebody exclaimed.

Lothiriel closed her eyes for a moment. With one of his lightning movements Éomer had interposed himself between her and the door, his sword half drawn already, but she did not need to see who had just entered the room. Against some things steel offered no protection anyway.

Aunt Ivriniel swept in with the irresistible force of a battle ram. Today she had chosen to dress entirely in dazzling white and as usual had emptied the contents of her jewellery box to go with this. The effect was overwhelming even to one used to her and Éomer was simply left staring at her in amazement. In the doorway behind her stood Amrothos, looking apologetic and silently mouthing 'I'm sorry'.

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