Friday, 21 December 2007


I have come to the conclusion that there is in fact a God, and that he/she absolutely hates me.

I was supposed to be taking my driving test today. And I quite desperately wanted to pass, though if you had asked me about it yesterday I would have told you I hated driving and would rather be fed to a demonic penguin than take my test. Well, it seems I got my wish, and not about the being fed to a penguin.

Come this morning when we went to get my paperwork for my test, the paper part of my licence is not where we put it. Nor is it anywhere else (and we near tore the house apart looking for it). There was a little bit of crying (because I care very much about losing fifty quid) and a little bit of shouting (which upset the dog) but to no avail. My licence has simply dropped off the face of the Earth. Nobody can remember having seen it since my theory test in July and we’re wondering if the lovely people at the test centre might have forgotten to give me it back. Stupid idea it coming in two parts anyway.

So I have just wasted £185 on driving lessons (money which I desperately needed) for nothing. And I’m not impressed, not least because I could have spent this week revising for my exams instead of stressing about driving. And I’m certainly not going to be able to afford a new license, more lessons and another test while I’m still at University.

I have simply come to the conclusion that I am not meant to drive (because they cancelled my test in September as well) and I’m just going to have to marry someone very rich so I can have a chauffer to drive me everywhere.

I’ll let you know how that one goes…

Saturday, 8 December 2007

Metamorfic_Moon All Hallow's Moon Fic Jumble

Just realised that it does in fact say fanfiction in the title of my journal. So here are my entries to the above mentioned challenge.

Title: Bridging The Gap
Author: captainraz
Rating & Warnings: PG; some language
Prompts: Day Of Forgiveness, Mrs Scower’s Magical Mess Remover, Action/Adventure or angst, Location Prompt #1
Word Count: 2,466
Summary: Sometimes the smallest of things can fix the biggest of messes.
Author’s Notes: Didn't think I'd get this done at all, but here I am. And I managed to get all of the prompts in. No Halloween references though. It is set October-ish.

Bridging The Gap

Title: More Than They Bargained For
Author: Captainraz
Rating & Warnings: T, some swearing, refernces to adult themes, though nothing explicit
Prompts: Day of Peturbation, Enchanted Candle, Action/Adventure or Humour and Location Prompts #13 and #32
Word Count: 7026
Summary: The seeds of the idea behind the prank had been sown in the summer, when the Twins had been staying at Grimmauld Place. This time, there really was no doubting that Sirius Black was an evil, evil man.
Author’s Notes: I was a little bit naughty in using two locations prompts, but I was kind of hoping you’d all be too impressed to tell me off :). Especially since I have just about got all my prompts in. Thanks to Shwenny for the beta-job.

More Than They Bargained For

Friday, 7 December 2007


Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @

Saw this and immediatly thought of chapter fifteen of ladybracknell's Werewolf Who Stole Christmas.

Made me laugh too.

And the painkillers I'm on are only partly to blame as well.

Thursday, 29 November 2007

My name is Nymphadora Tonks, and I am a klutz

I am such an utter tit, it is almost incomprehensible.

I am currently sat in my study with my feet up, not because I have worked exceptionally hard this week and deserve a well earned break. Oh no, far from it. I am sat with my feet up because I took a spectacularly embarrassing fall down the steps of a lecture theatre this morning and have torn the ligaments in my ankle. And I fell down said steps whilst leaving a lecture I DIDN'T ACTUALLY NEED TO BE IN!

Now if the University staff could just make their emails a little less incomprehensible to us ere mortals, maybe I wouldn't be in this position. It means I can't physically go to my lectures this afternoon and I can't do my labs tomorrow. I have never been so glad that I am efficient in the lab and am far enough ahead that missing tomorrow really isn't the end of the world. Never mind I had hoped to finish this lab series tomorrow.

As it is I'm waiting for my mother to come pick me up so I can go be an invalid at home. Doesn't quite make up for the fact that I can't walk without it hurting like hell. On the plus side it means I'm getting some washing done.

I do love my mates though, they're being brilliant. Making sure I get notes for lectures I've missed and helping me get my work in on time since I can't drop it off myself. They call me Tonks, and I keep telling them that it's not just because I have pink hair, it's because I’m a complete klutz.

Guess I just gone and proved that one!

Monday, 26 November 2007

Christmas Bells Are Ringing... Out Of Town!!

Have jsut signed up for the Winter Wonderland Advent at metamorfic_moon even though I quite blatantly don't have time to write for it. And that's depsite the fact the limit is 5000 words!

Let's see,I get home on the 16th of December, have a driving lesson on the 16th and my test on the 21st. I have a grand total of seven exams to revise for for January (or learn, depending on how you look at it). I'm also harbouring ambitions to get my novel finished before Crimblemas as I'm hoping to present the first draft to my mother. On top of that I also have at least two assignments to do between now and the end of term. And that's not even taking into account all of my friends who are gonna want to drag me and all of the Christmas socials I really can't afford to go to.

Looks like I'm going to have to stock up on the coffee because sleep might have to go right out of the window!!!

Despite the moaning, I am going to get all my work done write two fics for metamorfic_moon, finish my novel on time, pass my driving test and get at least 45% on all my exams.

Will keep you posted

Tuesday, 6 November 2007

Think you're having a bad day?

I think I might just have had the worst day ever in the history of suicidally horrible days.

Everything was alright until four o’clock when I had a maths lecture and workshop. Being my reading week, I have fewer lectures than normal (fewer than lots still being many). The first hour went great; I actually knew what I was doing despite having missed a lecture last week. Then we got the results of the assignment we were given a fortnight ago. Thirty-five percent. Pass mark is forty. Bugger.

I spent the next hour alternately debating slitting my wrists and downing a bottle of vodka. My mood was not helped by the fact the workshop overran by about fifteen minutes. Went to dinner in the foulest mood ever and as a result of me being late, got the vegetarian option to choose from. Was okay really, but what I wouldn’t have given for a proper home cooked meal at that point.

Decided to get it out of my system by going to a bike ride. Viciously cycled into Beeston and decided to nip to Sainsbury’s to buy myself a nice bottle of wine to cheer myself up (and yes, before you point it out to me, I do know that alcohol is a depressant). Paid for my wine and got back to where my bike was tethered only to discover I had apparently lost my keys. The key for my building, for my room, for the bike shed, for my bike lock and my computer lock. Not only would this mean me having to walk home and hope my roommate was in, but it would also cost me about £30 in lost deposits. I am a poor student; £30 is immense riches to me.

So there’s me, running around Sainsbury’s looking like a tit, looking for my keys, nearly in tears because it’s a half hour walk home in the dark and I don’t even know if I can get in when I get back. Thankfully, my keys weren’t lost but on their lanyard around my next. Instead of in my pocket like they usually are. Wonderful. This really helped with me feeling like an complete and utter tit.

Cycled home with my bottle of wine, which coincidentally is something I am never attempting ever again. Was absolutely paranoid about dropping it. Managed to get halfway home and successfully navigate a main road and around about with bottle still intact. Only when I got back to University Park and thus five minutes from home did I drop the bloody thing. Made quite an impressive smash actually, but at that point I was really trying my best not to cry. Cycled off and round to the lake to sit and sulk in the dark and to the only thing a girl can do when she’s having a bad day; ring my mum.

Turns out she was having an equally crappy day and together we lamented out mutual lack of wine.

Finally got back to my room (which smells of disinfectant due to me cleaning the new modification to my ear) and discovered that, despite my protests to the contrary, I really am a typical student. Somehow, and I fear I will never be able to explain it, the detritus from my late night instant noodle snack the other day had managed to plaster itself all over one of my nice shiny new (and very expensive) text books, and all over my bed. It’s the last time I’m ever eating those noodles because it looked like someday had vomited in my bed, it really did.

After all that I did the only possible sensible thing and now I have a bottle of Lambrini coursing through my veins. I swear its stronger than it used to be. Or maybe its cos I haven’t drunk much since I came to university that its affecting me more (and here I still hold the moral high ground on me not being a typical student). Or maybe its cos I haven’t actually drunk the stuff since I was fourteen, but it was cheap so who’s complaining?

Am now really looking forward to going home on Thursday. I don’t care how old I am, all I want is a hug from my mum. And a bottle of wine. And watching Mark Harmon on the telly with a tube Pringles.


Thursday, 1 November 2007


Livejournal is GAY!

With a capital G and a capital AY!!

Apparently it has decided not to notify me when people comment on my journal, so at the moment I absolutely no idea when people comment on my entries at metamorfic_moon. So I seem like an ignorent little oik cos I'm not replying to all the nice things people are saying grr!

Okay rant over.

In other news, university is going great. I'm really enjoying myself, but am also really looking forward to going home next week. I have missed my mum's cooking and all I can't wait for next Friday night when I will be sat drinking a bottle of wine, eating pringles and watching Mark Harmon with my mum. Oh yes, I can't wait.

We have decided to get up of our arse and actually write some fic outside of metamorfic_moon's fic jumbles. Thus, I ahve started work on a post DH epic that is only slightly AU. Have shot the first chapter off to shwenny so hopefully it should be up next week.

Unfortunately all this fic means that the story I should be working on, ie my novel, is sadly being neglected. Am going to draw up some notes for the chapters I am stuck on at the weekend, and hopefully that will kill my writers block. I want to get it finished by christmas cos I plan on presenting the completed first draft to my mother as her present.

And in between all that I promise I will try to get a degree. Honest.

Friday, 26 October 2007

Yet another meme

Stolen from shwenny

1.Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4:
Page 18 is blank but line 4 page 17 says
"The green atoms show where the water comes from."
From my organic chemistry textbook

2.Stretch your left arm out as far as you can.
can i put it down again or am i supposed to measure it?

3.What was the last thing you watched on TV?
um, on an actual tv the rugby, which we lost.
watched cardcaptors on the net yesterday though.

4.Without looking, guess what time it is:

5.Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?

6.With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Adam Pascal singing to me about my eyes. Apparently he can't get them out of his mind ;P

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
about an hour ago. I'd just come out of the lab

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Shwenny's LJ

9.What are you wearing?
jeans, walking boots, a tshirt that says 'have you hugged a werewolf today?' (the answer sadly being no) and a dog collar (possibly slightly inadvisable considering the t shirt, but oh well)

10. Did you dream last night?
No, but the one I had the night before was wierd. For some reason me and my friends form home were having a battle with one of the other halls on campus, either Cripps or Florence Boot. With swords and arrows etc. For some stragne reason I was the commander or something and Weeza was an archer. We were on a really big wall and I jumped down to get the enemey and someone managed to get me but my armour limited the damage but I couldn't use my arm. We won the battle and went to a pub on a boat for some reason and I had to go find Adam (my friend, not Adam Pascal) and fell through the perfume department. I was most confused when I woke up.

11.When did you last laugh?
About five minutes ago whilst reading Lady Bracknell's latest fic 'The Firewhiskey Incident'. Howled with laughter.

12.What color are the walls in the room you are in?

13.Seen anything weird lately?
When I looked in the mirror this morning?

14.What do you think of this quiz?
It is filling my time adequately

15.What is the last film you saw?
RENT. Made a bunch of my mates sit down and watch it. Before then it was Flight of Dragons, which is one of those films which is piss funny but isn't meant to be. Go watch both!

16. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
A nice little flat for me, a maid for my parents, a car and a nice guitar.

17.Tell me something about you I don’t know.
I have a crush on nearly every single cast member of NCIS.

18.If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would it be?
Everyone would know the meaning of tolerance, and know that money isn't everything.

19.Do you like to dance?
yup, although in the lab with Sulphuric Acid in your hands is possiblty not the best time.

20.George Bush:
Rubbish polotician; fantastic comedian

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what would you call her?
Something earthy, after a gemstone or a bird or plant or something. Skylark maybe ;P

22.Imagine your first child is a boy, what would you call him?
Isingrim Geotropism (and there is a stroy behind that). But seriously speaking, probably Hunter or David.

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
Yup. Wanted to live in New Zealend. Would definately live in the north of France as well.

24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
"Do you mind if I leave you in charge for a bit? I'm f****** knackered!"

Tuesday, 23 October 2007



That brings my total up to a humongous four!

Admittedly I had to save one with a high brace and I did another one so powerfully I nearly went right over the other side again, but I still managed it. And I only capsized once, right at the end.

Considering my goal was to be able to do them by the end of my first year, I think I'm doing pretty well!!

Not going on the Wales trip next month; I'm not confident enough with my white water skills yet. But mark my words I will be there eventually. Can't wait for Thursday so I can practise some more.

Sunday, 21 October 2007

Oh My...

I was going to make a serious post about wht I'm doing with my life, but then I found this link and couldn't stop laughing!!

Dumbledore is gay!!

And in the immortal words of JK herslef.... "The fanfiction!!!"

Thursday, 18 October 2007

This is what you get for letting me think....

I have been thinking (always a dangerous move for me) and no, before you ask, it didn't hurt.

This just proves that I really do have far too much time on my hands.

I have always wondered, considering the placebo effect, if you could sell tic tacs in a nightclub and pass them off as ecstasy. Tic tacs have always looked rather a lot like drugs to me (might just be me as well) and people probably would get high off them if you told them it was E. Now I'm not even remotely familiar with the going rate for illegal drugs (but I'll bet that it's well above inflation) but could you imagine the profit margin on a single packet of tic tacs?

Now if that thought amused me, it was nothing compared to what I considered next.

Now, I reckon that if you got caught selling them the police would have to let off since you weren't actually selling an illegal substance. I reckon you might have a couple of days inside a cell while the forensics bods worked out that your little white pills were in fact made by Ferrero and not manufactured by some ugly gangster and smuggled into the country inside a condom.

Thing is though, you would probably get let off the drugs charges only to find Trading Standards for false advertising...

Such is the world in which we live!

Saturday, 6 October 2007

Tattoo Designs....

Been playing around with tattoo designs today (instead of doing my lab write ups like i should be doing!) and I have managed to come up with what I want my lower back piece to look like in the end.

I already have the yin and yang with the crescent moons, but this is how i would like it to look when it is finished, except that I have two versions and can't quite decide wich one to finally go for lol.

My tattoo at the moment looks like this:

and the two finished designs I cant quite decide between are:


The writing in the first one says 'Goddess' at the top and 'God' at the bottom. The second one says 'An it harm none, do waht ye will.'

The first one looks better , but the second one is much more personal.

Well, this tattoo is a very personal one any way, with a lot of meaning to it. Never mind the fact that both me and my best friend both have the same basic design.

But I wanted it to be a bit bigger, a bit more. I love the cletic knots either side, and I definately want something written above and below in the Tengwar script, but I'm not sure which version I like best.

Tuesday, 2 October 2007

You learn a new thing everday...

Things I have learned recently:

1) I have been doing completely the wrong martial art for two years.

Friday night I went to a martial arts taster session. We got to try out some moves from Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. I spent the evening rolling around on the floor with my legs wrapped around a very nice lad called Harry. The fact we had only just met and we were in fact trying to break each others arms is inconsequential! ;P He thinks he's going to join the Ninjitsu club at the University and by some strange coincidence it looks like I'm going to be joining as well!

2) Jagermeister tastes like cough medicine.

Was at Nottingham Rock City Sunday night for the end of week one party. And what does one do when you are at the home of Rock in Nottingham? Drink some Jagermiester of course! I swear the stuff tastes like cough medicine, yet despite that it really is quite nice. I'm pretty sure it has the same effect as cough medicine as well as it got rid of my tickly cough that isn't going to turn into Fresher's Flu!

3) The Twang really aren't very good.

I had never even heard of them before I had the misfortune to see them live, and it turns out there is a good reason for that! Was right at the front at the start of the set cos most of the people in my Hall had heard of them and apparently like them; I decided pretty early on that they weren't worth me losing my hearing over, so I slunk off to start drinking the aforementioned Jagermeister. In my honest opinion, they would be a pretty decent band if the got rid of the two men they jokingly call 'singers'!

3) I love Somerfield!

As in the supermarket! Just went shopping for 'essentials' and managed to get the following for under four quid: wash powder, fabric softener, a pack of yoghurts, hot chocolate, cornflakes, sugar and four packets of instant noodles! I swear that place is student heaven! And the best thing about it is that the stuff I bought there doesn't taste like sh*t! The hot chocolate is some of the best I've had!

4) I am so going to work as a Chemistry lecturer when I graduate.

I would so fit in! Went to my first chemistry lecture yesterday. I sidled into the lecture theatre and sat down with sweaty palms, convinced that it was going to be uber hard and I wouldn't have a clue what was going on. The lights dimmed and there was quiet. There were words on the screen; A long time ago, in an empty galaxy far far away... Then the Star Wars theme tune starts playing. The complete chemical history of the universe is then related to us in scrolly yellow writing. When it is finished the periodic table looms over the screen, as ominous as a Star Destroyer. Then another song starts playing. This time it is Tom Lehrer's Elements Song. Which, if you've never heard it, is completely ridiculous. The entire lecture theatre is in stitches by this point! The lecturer introduces himself as Professor Martyn Poliakoff, brother of director Stephen Poliakoff. The lecture is on Atomic and Molecular Theory but is made interesting my amusing anecdotes about ants in microwaves and pictures of the people whose theory's we are talking about. In short; my professor is completely, utterly and thoroughly mental! It's brilliant. I think I might marry him if he wasn't sixty, probably already married with kids and grandkids! And if that doesn't prove how mental he is, he had quite obviously modelled his hairstyle on Albert Einstein! My new life ambition is to be a mad University Professer

And if you have never heard Tom Lehrer's Elements Song, your life will not be complete until you click this link:

There may be many others but they haven't been discovered

Friday, 28 September 2007

Right then, I do beleive I promised to most the rude, crude yet highly amusing football chants that my hall uses to indimidate, bully and otherwise generally impress other halls.

But first, I would like to comment that I now officially hate magpies. I have been here, what? five days now and it appears that my best friend is a bloody magpie. The stupid thing keeps following me around everywhere. That's right folks, I AM BEING STALKED BY A SODDING MAGPIE!!!!

The paranoia is setting in already.

I'll put my lovely chants under a cut, since they are really rather rude!

Carefree wherever you may be,
We are the Lincoln Infantry
And we don’t give a fuck whoever you may be,
Cos we are the Lincoln Infantry!

I’m Lincoln ‘til I die, I’m Lincoln ‘til I die,
I know I am, I’m sure I am,
I’m Lincoln ‘til I die!

On the road to Lenton,
There is a great Hall,
We are the people from Lincoln,
And we will shit on you all.

One for the boys:

Lincoln boys we are here,
Shag your women and drink your beer,
With a nick knack paddy whack, give a dog a bone,
Lincoln Boys are coming home!

Rutland Ones;

Give me a ‘D’!
Give me a ‘I’!
Give me a ‘S’!
Give me a ‘C’!
Lets all have a disco and Rutland aren’t invited,
Na na na na hey, na na na na hey!

Rutland boys are illegitimate,
They aint got no birth certificates,
They got AIDS and can’t get rid of it,
Dirty Rutland Bastards!

Rutland take it up the arse doo dah, doo dah,
Rutland take it up the arse do da doo dah dey,
Do da doo dah dey, do da doo dah dey,
Rutland take it up the arse do da doo dah dey!

Honestly, you would think we were uncouth Football louts rather than people in Higher Education!

But it is rather fun…

Wednesday, 26 September 2007

Carefree wherever you may be...

For months I have had this feeling of being in the eye of the storm, between the end of one phase of my life and not yet at the start of the next; on the edge of something important but not quite ready to jump. I suppose it was understandable; I had finished with school and was waiting to start university and I had split up with my boyfriend of seven months whom I had been in love with for far longer than that.

Well now I am here; the storm has hit. I have moved down to Nottingham and am now in the middle of fresher’s week. Already I can feel the difference in myself.

I have always been comfortable with my own company, and quite shy around new people, and while the former is still true I am more comfortable talking to new people after just a few days.

Though it is fresher’s week I’m not out every night partying; that’s just not my scene. That said, I was out at a club on Monday night dressed as a pirate!!! Spent the entire night dancing like a loon with people I have only known a few days and can barely remember the names of! On the bus back to halls of residence we were singing football like chants for our hall. Apparently there is a fierce rivalry between the different halls on campus, and everyone is extremely loyal to their hall. And apparently everybody hates Rutland!!! (luckily, I’m not in Rutland; I’m Lincoln til I die!)

Might post the chants at a later date, because some of them are highly amusing, if a little crude and sometimes downright nasty!

I am going to go to the end of week one party though since the Student’s Union have booked the whole of Rock City. There are a load of bands booked to play so it should be funky.

I am here. The next phase of my life has started, and even if I don’t plan on partying til I drop during Week One, I plan to make these next few years some of the best in my life!!! To that end I have joined up to about a million different societies.

Joined the Chemistry Society, since its chemistry I’m studying; joined the creative writing club to enhance my writing skills, and the book club because the people on the stall conned me into it! I also joined the Science Fiction and Fantasy club, because I am a great big geek, and I’m joining the Canoe club so I can go white water kayaking.

Seems like my lectures are going to start to get in the way of my social life!!!!

Sunday, 22 July 2007

And another one on the bandwagon...

Title: ‘Til Death Do Us Part
Author: captainraz
Rating & Warnings: PG (Deathly Hallows spoilers)
Format & Word Count: One-shot, 980 words
Summary: Their wedding vows had only said 'til death do us part, but Remus had promised her forever
Author's Notes: Sorry to jump on the bandwagon but I had to do this for my own peace of mind. Hopefully the fanfiction community can band together to give us the closure and feeling of purpose that JK so spectacularly failed to give us. This one actually fits with canon, much as I hate it.

Remus skidded to an abrupt halt halfway down the corridor, cutting short his race towards where the main battle was going on; there were Death Eaters barring their path. Tonks ran into him and nearly toppled both of them to the floor. Somehow Remus managed to keep both of them on their feet. He whipped around to look the way they had just come; more advancing Death Eaters. Sudden realisation gripped Remus’ stomach like a vice; this was it.

"Trapped!" yelled Tonks over the sound of explosions reverberating around the castle.

"Scared?" asked Remus.

"No," replied Tonks evenly, and Remus knew she meant it.

He took her hand in his and held onto it tightly. Tonks gave him a nod and then they were stood back to back, hands held tightly between them, wands raised in defiance against the oncoming Death Eaters.

Remus thought of baby Teddy at home with Andromeda and his heart constricted. There had always been the possibility that either he or Tonks wouldn’t be coming home, but now that looked like a grim reality. A large part of Remus wished Tonks had stayed at her mum’s; she was too young to die. But he swallowed the thought; if he had learned anything at all it was that he shouldn’t underestimate Moody’s protégée Auror. And he knew in his heart of hearts that neither of them was capable of staying home and waiting for news of their friends deaths; he just wished that the news would be of someone else’s death instead of theirs.

Remus hated that their son would probably never know either of his parents, but he couldn't bring himself to regret his decision to leave the little boy behind. This was a war that he and Dora had been fighting their whole lives; Remus couldn't bring himself to leave the legacy of completing this task to another generation. This wasn't Teddy's fight, and if he and Dora had to die to make sure that it was so, then so be it.

"I’m so sorry Dora, for everything I did that hurt you," yelled Remus as black cloaks and silver masks drew ever nearer.

"I love you," came Tonks’ reply. Even now she forgave him of all his sins.

"I love you too," said Remus, squeezing Tonks hand gently. He took a deep breath. "Ready?"

Tonks squeezed his hand back as acquiescence and then the couple took a deep breath and as one they bellowed "Expecto Patronum!"

From one wand erupted an enormous silver werewolf, form the other a silver chameleon. Both Patronuses charged down the corridor, in opposite directions, chasing and knocking down Death Eaters. The next moment the air was filled with flying curses, red and green flashes illuminating the grim looks on Remus and Tonks’ faces. Tapestries burned, suits of armour came crashing down and rubble went flying, and still the werewolf and the Metamorphmagus stood in the middle of that corridor, hands firmly pressed together, exchanging curses with a dwindling number of Death Eaters.

Suddenly, green flooded Remus’ vision and then he was staring into the familiar grinning face of Sirius Black. He looked younger, happier, as though he had never been touched by the horrors of Azkaban.

"Not that I’m not glad to see you, mate, but couldn’t at least one of us have had a happily ever after?" he said with a raised eyebrow.

Remus chuckled as Sirius stepped aside to reveal two faces that Remus had ached to see for nearly seventeen years. James Potter, his hair as unruly as always, was wearing an easy grin as he slung his arm loosely around the shoulders of a beautiful red haired woman. Remus looked from James to Lily and then down at the golden band on his finger. He felt his inner Marauder rear it head; he couldn’t resist.

"I don’t know if any one told you two, but the vows only said ‘til death do us part."

"Think again, Remus John Lupin," came an irritated but familiar voice that caused Remus’ heart to simultaneously leap with joy and break with sadness. He turned around to look at his wife, a shy smile on his face and contrition in his eyes.

"I promised I would love you forever, didn’t I?" he asked quietly.

"You did, and give or take a few hiccups you’ve done a pretty good job so far," said Tonks with a smile. Suddenly the smile cracked and the pink-haired Auror bent double with the force of her wracking sob. "Teddy..." her voice was a plaintive moan.

Remus gathered her up in his arms and did his best to comfort her, though his heart was breaking over the very same thing; they would not know their son, and Teddy would grow up an orphan. Remus looked back at his childhood friends to see all three wearing bittersweet smiles on their faces. Silently, Lily detached herself from her husband and placed her hand gently on Tonks’ arm. Tonks looked up from where her face was buried in Remus’ chest.

"As a mother, it’s not easy to leave your child behind," said Lily softly, "But it does get easier over the years. You’ve left him in very good hands."

"Harry coped pretty well while growing up," said Remus reassuringly, sharing a pained look with James. Tonks choked back a final sob and nodded, the pain still etched clearly on her face.

"Harry’s calling," said James suddenly, and Remus felt a strange pull back towards the world he had just left.

"Harry needs me right now, but I’ll be back soon," said Remus quietly. "I’ll be back as soon as it’s all over."

Tonks managed a wry smile. "The vows only said ‘til death do us part."

Remus gave her a small smile as he began the descent back towards the realm of the living.

"Yeah, but I promised you forever."

More Deathly Hallows Ranting

Just reread my entry from three this morning and hell, I was writing out of shock, anger and grief. I hope that this afternoon I can be a little more coherent and reasoned. And do the book justice.

Which I don’t really feel like doing because for a book that was 17 years in the making I thought it was very weak. It felt like it had been written to get things over with as quickly as possible, with only the thought of the money and the film franchise. Seriously, the book felt like it was written solely to make a good film.

I am disappointed to say the least.

And I really can’t get my head around the whole Remus Tonks thing.

Any of it.

I don’t think that them getting married so quickly is OOC for either of them. Tonks obviously wanted some form of commitment from him, and if he was really serious about making a go of it then marriage is the perfect way to it prove once and for all. But that still does not mean that he is not still battling doubts; he is just more determined to overcome them if he can.

Tonks is quite obviously proud that she is married to Remus; she has fought so hard for him that she understandably wants to show him off now she has him.

And nobody said that they had a magically-binding wizarding wedding did they? Could just have been a small muggle ceremony.

The bit that still gets me is the Grimmauld place scene. Remus just felt so OOC to me. It has been postulated that his behaviour shows that he didn’t really love Tonks, but given the recurring theme of the importance of love in these books, I just don’t buy that. Remus is a very conflicted character, even if we don’t see it that much. He is obviously shit scared of becoming a father, for more than one reason. He is afraid of what he has done to Tonks and what he has condemned his child to. He is torn between his loyalty to his wife and unborn child, and the loyalty to the Marauders, whom he perceives would want him to stick with Harry. We forget that Lupin lost everybody who had ever accepted and loved him for who and what he was in one fell swoop; he lost the Marauders and Lily to murder and betrayal at a very young age, and no one seems to consider what that could have done to him. This explains his anger; he has reached breaking point, and when you consider all he has been through over the years, I think he did very well not to be deranged all the time.

I believe that when he offered to go with Harry he had not actually ‘left’ Tonks. I feel that given her reaction the year before (and considering she was pregnant) he would simply have slipped off with Harry and left a note saying he had a mission. I wholeheartedly believe that he went crawling back to Tonks after Harry knocked some sense into him and he had had a good think.

The one thing that does annoy me is that even though he ‘regretted very much’ marrying Tonks it doesn’t seem to have kept him out of her bed does it?

Their relationship obviously goes from strength to strength though the rest of the book; Ron says they’re living together again and Remus is back to himself when he is on Potterwatch. Everything is alright when Teddy is born, even if Remus is a little OOC in his method of announcing he is a father. Everything has to be okay if he's now a proud and ecstactic father.

How wrong.

Despite the fact I’m in denial and do not see at all why Remus and Tonks had to die, I do like the fact they appeared to die together. I like to think that they went out in a blaze of glory, with no doubts in either one’s minds about their feelings for each other, no doubts about whether what they were doing was right. I still hate that they had to die though.

And as for why Tonks wasn’t with Remus when the Marauders reappeared, Harry summoned them. He summoned his parents and their closest friends. He didn’t summon Tonks, which is why she wasn’t their.

And after all that and another huge rant, I’m still not convinced there is a single shred of sense in any of it.

Deathly Hallows

Oh the emotional Hell i have been through today, and all because of a sodding book! the object in question arrived at half past seven this morning, but since i was at work today i had to wait until half seven this evening to read it. 6 hours later i have finished.

some of my theories were crack, some of them spot on. i was let down, and dissapointed and yet completely elated at various points in this story.

but all in all i am absolutely gutted and completely regret wanting to throttle certain characters early on in the book.

yes, this entire rant is going to be about Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

the book started off as very promising from their point of veiw and had me punching the air in triumph when i learned that Remus and Tonks had gotten married.

there were even more grins from me when Tonks starts proudly showing off her ring to all and sundry. yes Remus is quite quiet at this point, beut hes not really the 'Oooh look at me' type really.

all so far so good, from a shippers point of view.

their abrupt exit form Harry's birthday party had me thinking, but i figured that since he is a werewolf he really didnt want to be around when the Minister for Magic turned up. especially given the anti-werewolf legislation and Fenrir Greyback's attack on Bill Weasley. his unhappiness at this point is more worrying, and was both brushed off and placced deep seated fears/doubts in my mind.

the scene at Grimmauld really flummoxed me. for a start Remus' 'I am Remus John Lupin...' malarky really bothered me, and would continue to bother me. it just sounds way too pompous for Remus.

as for the rest of the scene, i felt that Remus was really out of character (or maybe i have just been influenced by the character of Remus that comes through in fanfiction.) yeah he's being all professory by bringing the kids up to date, berating Hermione and Ron for their lax security etc. but everything after that seems ludicrous.

the announcement that Tonks was pregnant should have been a cause for mass celebration, the first of their multi-coloured werepups was on the way! but its Lupin's coldness that got to me. and his conviction that James would want him to leave Tonks and the baby to go with Harry smacks of trying to convince himself and Harry that he knows what James would ahve wanted better than Harry would. discussing his regret for marrying Tonks is really absurdly out of character, since the kids were kept completely in he dark about anything between Remus and Tonks in previous books. and then him kicking chairs, pulling his hair and pulling his wand on Harry. it all flies in the face of the suberb self control we have come to expect from Lupin.

at this point i felt like strangling one Remus J Lupin.

not surprisingly, Tonks has gone into hiding at her parents. despite her being a fiesty Auror, this seems completely in character. if you were an Auror, a member of the Order of the Phoenix married to a werewolf and expecting his child as well as being the estranged half blood relative of half of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eaters, wouldn't you go into hiding too?

hearing that Remus and Tonks are back together, however noncommitally from Ron gives hope that there will be happily ever after.

i have to admit that the Potterwatch scene was Lupin's finest hour, at least in this book. we seem to see the Remus we know and love here; he has forgiven Harry, and showing complete faith in him once more. he's back with Tonks, he's back on Harry's side.

but we are back to Wacko!Remus with the scene at Shell cottage. and again with the pompous greeting 'it is i, Remus John Lupin...' yes he is undoubtedly ecstatically happy to be a father after his previous doubts, but is it really worth risking various people's security to announce it in person? that bit really lost me, cos it seemed a bit of a contrived way to bring the R/T sub story back into the main plot.

and then we come to the climax of the book; the battle at Hogwarts. this part of the book was in many ways exactly what i had imagined and yet completely dissapointing. i frequently found myself getting lost, and losing the plot thread at this point.

it makes sense that the Order would be on hand to help in the final battle. even Remus and Tonks. but surely the start of a bloody and climactic battle is NOT ther perfect time to start showing baby photos. of course Tonks came after Remus though she had to leave Teddy at home; she has fought so hard for Remus in the past she is not waiting at home to be told she is a widow.

and then, their deaths.

their deaths were completely unneccessary and completely cruel. if anyone had everything to live for it was Remus and Tonks. given that they are killed off their entire back story seems so contrived, so vain. what was the point of all the suffering, of offering them a chance at happiness in their son if they are only going to get killed?

and then if they DID have to die, why weren't they given the fanfare and glorius exit they deserved. Remus was instrumental to Harry's Defence instruction and was the last of his fathers friends. whilst Tonks was undoubtedly less close to him, Ginny and Hermione were extremely fond of her, even seeing her as a big sister. why then were these characters not given the glorious exit they deserved, fighting off a hundred death eaters side by side? i'm sure i'm not the only one who feels betrayed by the lines 'remus and Tonks, lying still and peaceful-looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling.'

what a waste of two thoroughly fascinating characters, and what a dissapointing end to their story. why wasn't there a conflict with the werewolves to go with Remus' mission the year before? why was Tonks made a Metamorphmagus when apparently all that is good for is amusing teenagers?

if you are still reading this i congratulate you, for i cannot quite believe i have just written all that. must be the shock,and the grief i feel for losing my favourite characters, indeed the only reason i read the Harry Potter books.

J K Rowling might have let her fans, the R/T shippers down with the final chapter in her series, but i hope, and i know that Remus and Tonks will be avenged through fanfiction. they will live on through fanfiction!

Oh, and if anyone managed to keep track of the last chapter/epiloguey bit, cos i really couldn't. maybe i had switched off by that point.

Sunday, 8 July 2007


And strangely i'm not the gibbering wreck i should be after just seeing the end of your relationship written in your other half's eyes. not the teary eyed soul i should be after parting ways with someone i had begun to consider as being 'the one'.

ok, so I turned into a gibbering wreck on Friday night, and I cried until I was nearly sick, until I could cry no more. But that just shows that I am human after all.

But I'm not going to let him see that I'm not okay. Because love is a game and this time I won't lose. Because I've lost far too many times before. This time I'm going to be strong.

"Yeah I've had promises broken
Three words left unspoken
They just left me achin' for more
But I'll fight temptation
I won't be impatient
There's one thing that's worth waitin' for"

-LeAnn Rimes: Commitment

Friday, 6 July 2007

Huge Rant about how S**** Everyhting is

I don't know if its just me, but i think i have just had the most shit few months imaginable.

Early May i was diagnosed with Glandular Fever which meant i spent a good few weeks being incredibly poorly. At one point i couldn't even drink water because my throat was so unimaginably swollen and sore :(

this unfortunately caused me to miss a four hour philosophy exam :S

and I'm just starting to recover from that, still really tired and lethargic and i'm straight into my exams proper. A level exams. oh joy. still, i managed to get through them and i'm still here, and fingers crossed i've done enough to get into my first choice university.

And then, i have barely finished my exams and am looking forward to a summer of partying hard and long lazy days spent with my boyfriend when he drops the bombshell that he doesn't want to be with me. Completely out of the blue. and barely three days after we had spent an afternoon singing love songs to each other and slow dancing around my bedroom.

And strangely i'm not the gibbering wreck i should be after just seeing the end of your relationship written in your other half's eyes. not the teary eyed soul i should be after parting ways with someone i had begun to consider as being 'the one'. the only side effect appears to be my inability to write anything other than angst!

i'm more disappointed than anything. disappointed that even after all that time i didn't know him well enough to know he had doubts. disappointed in him for not knowing how good what we had was. part of me hurts because i know i'll never kiss him again; never enjoy his scent as we just cuddle. but the rest of me thinks that he should be the one hurting because he was the fool who gave me up. and given the way his hands were shaking, and the way he was nearly in tears i think he might be the one hurting. but i wouldn't take him back.

no second chances, i'm that sort of a woman.

Top Ten songs that are good to listen to when you're in love, but should make you cry when you've just been dumped:

1) Savage Garden: Truly Madly Deeply
2) Snow Patrol: Chasing Cars
3) LeAnn Rimes: How Do I Live
4) Aerosmith: I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing
5) Smokey Robinson and the Miracles: I Second That emotion
6) Bryan Adams: (Everything I Do) I Do It for You
7) Lifehouse: Blind
8) The Corrs: Runaway
9) Meatloaf: You Took the Words Right Out Of My Mouth
10) Robbie Williams: Angels

Friday, 29 June 2007

Meme Thing

What Is Your HP Threesome?
by elschan
You Will ShagCharlie Weasley and Remus Lupin

nicked this from bratanimus

i think i struck lucky on this one :D

Wednesday, 28 March 2007

The A-Z of me

Afraid not

25th Jan

(which means who do you fancy!!)
David Tennant, David Thewlis, Hugo Weaving’s Voice, Christopher Eccleston

Oh, and Stephen :P

Actimel Strawberry

Shwenny, or my mum or stephen (depends what about)

Crowded House

worms, cos they’re bigger! (yeah I know its not size that counts)


guitar, a little piano, theoretically drums


Not that I know of

two days?

chocolate (if I have milkshake at all)


world peace lol no, never to lose the people who mean the most to me

Stephen, or was it my mum?

depends on the situation lol

university, Stephen, party on saturday

[S] - SEX:

7 ish

stripey black things

raw carrots, or parsnips

[W]- Worst habit:
worrying about things that are fine

several, mainly on my feet lol

wolf or panther


Repost this as 'The A-Z of you

Monday, 26 March 2007

more blogthingies

Your Vocabulary Score: B

You have a zealous love for the English language, and many find your vocabulary edifying.
Don't fret that you didn't get every word right, your vocabulary can be easily ameliorated!

You Are Creepy

Serial killers would run away from you in a flash.

You Are 29 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

Thursday, 15 March 2007

Lorien Love Files Part 3

Title: Lorien Love Files- Part 3
Author: captainraz
Format: fic chapter
Rating & Warnings: G; none
Word Count:
Summary: The continuing story of Aragorn's and Arwen's love. Or at least, the parts that occur in Lothlorien.
Author’s Notes: LOTR won't ever be mine. it's something i've just had to get used to :(

Then for a season they wandered together in the glades of Lothlórien, until it was time for him to depart.

At last Aragorn felt the pull of nature, the change of season approaching, and he knew it was time he left the fair green woods. Reluctantly he did so, for he was loath to leave his beloved Arwen. Therefore he prepared for his going in secret, though he knew that soon she would discern that it was so.


“Éstel?” murmured Arwen as she sat by him as he was laid upon a chaise on her balcony. It was dusk, and a wonderful golden hue permeated the air in Lothlorien.

“Mmmm?” he replied, too content to speak.

“Why do I get the feeling that you are keeping something from me again?”

Aragorn sat up and looked at his beloved with sorrow in his eyes.

“I have to leave.” He said quietly. “My bags are packed in my room. I didn’t want to tell you; I knew you would be just as sad as I.”

Arwen rose to her feet and went to the balcony railing, looking down upon many layers of talans and many elves going about their daily business.

“You leave the borders of this land, and I do not know when I shall see you again.” She said sadly. Aragorn rose and went over to her, wrapping his arms about her.

“No, but still I must leave. And we will have fair memories to sustain us.” His fingers brushed against the Ring of Barahir, its heavy form now upon a chain about Arwen’s neck. “Arwen look at me.” She did as he instructed. “The magic of this land did not change the way I feel about you. Nor will that change when I leave. I loved you so many years before I came here, through every war I have fought through, now I have a reason to fight.” A tear fell gently down Arwen’s face.

“But my world will become dark when you leave, you are my light, my Éstel.” Aragorn kissed that lonely tear away.

“Then hope, my love, and I will be your hope, for Hope I was named. I need you to have hope for me, for without you I have none.”

“But I need you here with me. How can I go on without you by my side?” Arwen clutched desperately at his tunic. Aragorn had never seen an elf so vulnerable, and it scared him.

“One day I will be at your side, I promise. But for that day to come I must leave now, and you must continue to have hope for me. I have yet to speak with you father concerning our betrothal.” That thought did little to comfort Arwen, for she knew what her father would say, and he would not be happy. Aragorn held her tighter than ever. “There are things I have yet to do, but I want you to know that there is nowhere I would rather be, nothing I would rather be doing than spending my time with you.”

“I love you Éstel, beyond the ending of this world I love you.”

“And I love you the same, which means that this parting will not break us. Nothing can come between us now, not the darkening of the world, nor the fall of the Free Peoples, nor you father. Nothing can change our love.”

“Make love to me Éstel.” Whispered Arwen in his ear.

Aragorn looked at her for a long moment, first in surprise, then with eyes that clearly said that he wanted to take her up on her request.

“Make love to me.” Whispered Arwen, pulling gently at the buttons of his tunic. “Seal our bond to each other.” Aragorn swallowed hard, fighting hard to regain concentration with such an offer hanging in the air. He had waited for this moment to come ever since he had first met Arwen all those years ago…

“No.” he said quite suddenly. Arwen looked hurt and confused by his rejection. “All of my being is screaming at me to make love to you all night long, and I promise that I will, but not tonight. How can I love you tonight, and then leave you in the morning with a heart twice as broken?”

“You leave tomorrow?” Aragorn nodded. “Make love to me.” Pleaded Arwen desperately.

“Not tonight, not like this.” Said Aragorn, with more conviction this time. He kissed her gently on the lips. “When I make love to you I will make sure that it is the best night of your life, and nothing and no one will be able to ruin our perfect moment. We will make love all night under the starlight, and I will hold you in my arms as the sun rises. Then I shall make love to you as the sun climbs the sky to its peak, and when it reaches its noontide I will kiss you deeply and tell you a thousand times over that I love you; but not tonight.”

Aragorn’s breath was hot against Arwen’s lips, and another tear escaped at the beautiful things he was whispering to her.

“Oh Éstel, I love you so much.”

“And I love you, my Evenstar, more than I ever thought a man could love anyone.”

“Stay with me tonight.” She said, her voice still almost pleading. Aragorn truly had never heard her sound so vulnerable, but it comforted him that he knew he was the only one who could change that.

“That I can do,” said Aragorn with a smile “And I care not if anyone should find us.” Arwen gave a small smile, but her eyes clearly told Aragorn that she was still scared.

Aragorn let Arwen go so that she could change, while he tugged off his tunic. Soon they were both settled in Arwen’s bed in each others arms, where they belonged.

“You know that you’ll never lose me. How could I run off with a bar maid after I have loved you?” asked Aragorn quietly. Arwen smiled in the dark, for he had read her mind perfectly. No, he would never leave her, not when he knew her so well.

“Forgive me for being silly?” asked Arwen. Aragorn nuzzled and kissed her neck in reply.

“How could I not?” he whispered.

Content the two of them fell asleep in each others arms, together for that night at least.


The next morning Aragorn woke early, though he was loathe to leave Arwen sleeping so peacefully. He went to his room and changed into his travelling clothes for the fist time in nigh on three months, and he retrieved his things.

He had hoped to slip out unnoticed but Arwen caught up with him before he left the perimeter of Caras Galadhon. That despairing look was back in her eye, and it nearly broke Aragorn’s resolve to leave that day.

“Must you go?” she asked quietly.

“I must. If I do not leave now then I will never find the courage to go, and we both know that I cannot stay.” Arwen nodded.

“I do not want you to leave me.”

“I promise that we will see each other again, we will be together again Arwen.”

“Then why does it feel like my heart is breaking? I have never felt such soul-breaking pain before. This surely is the hardest thing I will have to bear.” Aragorn looked sorrowful.

“This first parting is hard indeed, for both of us. Yet, this will not be the hardest parting to bear.”

Arwen looked at him, not understanding. Aragorn merely took her in his arms and kissed her long and hard before walking out through the gates. Arwen felt like he had walked out of her life forever and she knew that her heart went with him.

This will not be the hardest parting to bear he had said. Arwen could not think of any pain she had ever felt that was greater than this. Slowly she turned and went back to the city and back to her eternity of loneliness.

Galadriel looked down upon her broken granddaughter with sadness in her wise eyes. No, this would not be the hardest parting that she would have to bear.

Wednesday, 14 March 2007




that is my explanation for the depressedness in my previous entry.

the boyfriend, is however, a git. he dragged me on a six mile hike yesterday afternoon which completely buggered up my bad ankle. spent the morning in agony, took a trip to the hospital which was about as much use as a chocolate teapot (and not nearly as nice). in the end i went to a magic chiropractor man, who put 5 vertebrae in my spine back in place, and sorted my ankle out.

completely pain free at the moment, i'd recommened him to anyone.

and i would seriously advise against six mile hikes :P

Monday, 12 March 2007


I really should be exceedingly happy at the moment, but for some reason i'm not. I mean, University prospects are looking up, the boyfriend is just about recovered, i got great exam results on Friday, and i got my blue belt in karate yesterday.

and yet, for some reason, i have this inexplicable feeling of unhappiness in my chest.

i think it might be the boyfriend's fault. this last week or so i've got the feeling he's being a bit funny with me, a little bit distant with me. i can't help but feel a little worried. i've been in love with this guy for over a year, but i'm scared that he's got bored of me. after all, i am acutely aware that i'm not much of a catch.

maybe it's not him, maybe its me. incapable of being truly happy for any amount of time.

cos thats how it feels...

Wednesday, 7 March 2007

More silly blogthings just because I am bored

You Are A Realistic Romantic

It's easy for you to get swept away by romance...
But you've done a pretty good job keeping perspective.
You're still taken in by love poems and sunsets
You just don't fall for every dreamy pick up line!

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well.
An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly.
You are also good at remembering information and convicing someone of your point of view.
A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary.

Thursday, 1 March 2007

Where have I been?

Sorry I've been kinda quiet lately. Fistly I had my first round metamorfic_moon fic jumble to finish, which was a giant pain in the proverbial. Secondly I have been practising for a public speaking competition which happened last night (my team came third incidentally).

And last but far from least, my boyfriend was taken to hospital Sunday afternoon because he couldn't walk. Just woke up and couldn't walk, and twelve different doctors and umpteen different tests couldn't explain why. Cue raz getting only 2 hours sleep Sunday night cos she was worrying.

Thank you to everybody who has been there for me so that I can be there for him, it means the world to me guys.

Anyway, he's home now and walking better, but they still don't know what was wrong and he's still not walking properly. Fingers crossed it goes away and he gets better. Which means that (touch wood) I am good to concentrate on my fic for the final round of the Lover's Moon Fic Jumble.


Sunday, 18 February 2007

I really should be working on my metamorfic_moon piece, but i have hit a proverbial brick wall and i hate it anyway. brick wall is likely caused by alcohol followed by work, followed by more alcohol.

therefore, as a result of my Chinese New Year induced semi-hangover, we have the second part of my Aragorn/Arwen fic.

Title: Lorien Love File- Part 2
Author: captainraz
Format: fic chapter
Rating & Warnings: G; none
Word Count:
Summary: The continuing story of Aragorn's and Arwen's love. Or at least, the parts that occur in Lothlorien.
Author’s Notes: STILL don't own Lotr.

“And on the evening of Midsummer Aragorn Arathorn’s son, and Arwen daughter of Elrond went to the fair hill Cerin Amroth, in the midst of the land, and they walked unshod on the undying grass with elanor and niphrededil about their feet. And there upon that hill they looked east to the Shadow and west to the Twilight, and they plighted their troth and were glad.”

Aragorn came up behind Arwen with a grin on his face; she hadn’t heard him. Therefore, to demonstrate his tracking prowess, he began to tickle her violently as soon as she was in reach. Predictably, Arwen squealed but then she started fighting back. She soon had wrestled Aragorn on to his back so she was astride him and had him pinned.

“Do you yield?” questioned Arwen teasingly. Aragorn shifted so as to be more comfortable.

“Only if you plan on staying there.”


“What? Can you blame me?” he asked innocently.

“I can blame you for a lot of things Estel.”

“Ah but you took advantage of me.”

“Estel!” Aragorn merely smirked. Some time lapsed before either spoke again and it was Aragorn who broke the silence.

“I suppose you are right.” He said

“About what?”

“This isn’t really a very dignified position for an elf-maid to be in.” Arwen snorted.

“If you had had your way Estel I would no longer be an elf-maid.”

“Are you insinuating that I would take advantage of you?” he asked trying to sound insulted.

“You would be too afraid to try and take advantage of me.” Aragorn laughed and flipped Arwen over so that he was on top of her.

“Oh really?” he asked cocking an eyebrow.

“Estel get of me.” Said Arwen trying to shove him off. “Get off!”

“You were the one who wanted me to take advantage of you.” he pointed out. Arwen merely pouted. Aragorn looked down at the elf in his clutches and noticed for the millionth time just how beautiful she was. “I love you,” he whispered nuzzling her nose with his own, “You know that don’t you?”

“You only tell me everyday Estel.” She whispered back. “Just as I tell you everyday that I love you too.” Despite the serious tone Aragorn chuckled. “What?”

“You realise the consequences if we are found like this?” She nodded, not really comprehending his meaning. They would probably force me to marry you, not that I would require much forcing. Then he thought of something he had been putting off. “Come walk with me.” He whispered, helping her up.

She wound her arm around his waist and he reciprocated. Aragorn’s mood had quickly changed from playful to serious, and Arwen was puzzled by this.

Aragorn could not be exactly sure how long he had walked in these woods with Arwen, such was the way Lorien affected mortals perception of time. No matter how long he had been in Lorien he knew that the more time he spent with Arwen, the more sure he was the she was the one for him. But he had to be sure of how she felt for him; she had to be willing to forsake a lot for him if they were to be together forever.

They walked in silence until they reached Cerin Amroth, widely regarded as the most beautiful place in Lothlorien. At the foot of the hill Aragorn turned to Arwen.

“Take off your shoes.” He said. Arwen looked at him incredulously. “Take off your shoes.” He repeated. This time she complied and he did the same.

Hand in hand they walked up the hill and Arwen knew why Aragorn had requested they go barefoot; the feel of the grass beneath her feet was wonderful. When they reached the crest of the hill Aragorn turned to face her but still kept silent, looking pensive. Eventually Arwen broke the silence.

“Why have you brought me here?” she whispered. Aragron put his finger to her lips.

“Can you not feel it? To the east lies Shadow and in the west Twilight, but in this place there is peace. Sheltered from both fates. While outside the borders of this land the Shadow grows, here there is peace.” His face looked troubled, “ The Shadow grows.” He murmured.

Arwen thought that she caught insecurity and despair in his eye, and replied with what she felt in her heart, for she felt hope when he so plainly did not.

“Dark is the Shadow, yet my heart rejoices; for you, Estel, shall be among the great whose valour will destroy it.”

Still he stood looking towards the west with a troubled look in his eyes, and Arwen wished only to see him smile again.

“They say that foresight is gifted to the elves; you will rise and defeat this enemy. The Shadow cannot last forever, for you shall defeat it.” Aragorn shook his head.

“Alas! I cannot foresee it, and how it may come to pass is hidden from me.” He stroked her face and seemed to smile a second. “Yet with your hope I will hope. And the Shadow I utterly reject.”

He paused, and Arwen could see within his eyes a struggle taking place, and she knew that he was steeling himself for some grim task. He took a deep breath.

“But neither, lady, is the Twilight for me; for I am mortal, and if you will cleave to me, Evenstar, then the Twilight you must also renounce.”

Arwen looked shocked for a moment then, for she had not expected that of him. She stood still as a white tree, looking into the West. There she perceived that she saw the white shores of Valinor, and the laughter of a thousand elves in Elvenhome. And Arwen thought that she saw her mother, who had forsaken middle-earth many years before.

Then Arwen looked into Aragorn’s eyes and saw there love and understanding, and acceptance at whatever choice she chose. And then she knew that though she might live ten thousand years more, she would not find another man such as Aragorn. Arwen knew that there could never be another who loved her as he did, and could give her what he offered.

And in that moment Arwen Undomiel realised the true power of love. She realised that there was nothing without Aragorn, and whatever she gave up for him would be worth the price. At last she spoke again.

“I will cleave to you, Dúnadan, and turn from the Twilight. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long home of all my kin.”

Even as she spoke the words she knew of their finality, and of the grief she would cause and feel because of them. But she knew that Aragorn was worth all the tears of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

Even now there was a smile in his eye as he put his arms about her, pulling her to him. He rested his forehead against hers and said two simple words:

“Hannon le.”

And then he kissed her and did not stop for a long time. When they pulled apart he stroked her face and looked serious again.

“I suppose I had better do this properly.” He muttered almost inaudibly. Then he sank down on one knee before Arwen, who was by now not the least bit surprised at any actions he might choose to make.

Aragorn looked into Arwen’s eyes and smiled a thousand smiles, each and every one of them for her, and only for her.

“I ask of thee, Arwen Undomiel, when my time comes, wouldst thou be my bride? Will you marry me?”
“I say to thee Estel, that nothing in all of Arda could make me happier than to stand by your side as your wife. Of course I will marry you.” she said with a smile.

“Then bear this ring for me, as a token of our troth, so that those you shall meet shall know of our love.” And he slipped the Ring of Barahir off his finger as he straightened. “Even as Beren himself bore this ring so now I bear it too. And I would give it to my Tinuviel so that she may know the depth of my love for her.

“Oh, Estel, I only have to look into your eyes to know of the depth of your love. But I shall wear your ring, and cherish it all the more for it is a gift from you, my beloved.”

And Aragorn slipped the ring onto her finger even as he claimed her lips as his own. There they stood until the stars had come out in the heavens to honour their love. Then finally they broke apart and looked into each others eyes, revelling in their newly pledged love.

“We had better be getting back. I… we had better inform the Lady Galadriel of our troth-plighting.” Said Aragorn at last.

“There will be time for that in the morning, tonight is for me and you.” she replied holding on to him tightly. Aragorn smiled into her hair and he began to sing.

“Long was the way that fate them bore,
O’er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away,
In the forest singing sorrowless.”

“The Lay of Leithian.” Arwen whispered.

“Ever has it been a favourite story of mine, but now it concerns our fate closely. I would do anything for you, my Evenstar.”

“And I for you.” she whispered.

“You already have,” he murmured back “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then Aragorn noticed that she shivered slightly, and insisted then that they return to Caras Galadhon.

So hand in hand they returned to the elven city hearts bursting with joy and love. Knowing that the path before them was not going to be easy, but also that the rewards would be great.

Hand in hand they returned to civilisation, walking barefoot in the undying grass; for they had neglected to remember their shoes at the foot of Cerin Amroth

Thursday, 15 February 2007

Lorien Love Files- Part 1

Title; Lorien Love Files; Part 1
Author; captainraz
Format and Word Count; 2624
Rating; G
Warnings; pure, unadulterated fluff
Summary; The continuing story of Aragorn's and Arwen's love. Or at least, the parts that occur in Lothlorien.
Author’s Notes; Don't own any part of LOTR- especially not the great chunk of text at the start of this fic

“It came to pass that when Aragorn was nine and forty years of age he returned from perils on the dark confines of Mordor, where Sauron now dwelt again and was busy with evil. He was weary and he wished to go back to Rivendell and rest there awhile ere he journeyed to the far countries; and on his way he came to the borders of Lórien and was admitted to the hidden land by the Lady Galadriel.
‘He did not know it, but Arwen Undómiel was also there, dwelling again for a time with the kin of her mother. She was little changed, for the mortal years had passed her by; yet her face was more grave, and her laughter now seldom was heard. But Aragorn was grown to full stature of body and mind, and Galadriel bade him cast away his wayworn raiment, and she clothed him in silver and white, with a cloak of elven-grey, and a bright gem on his brow. Then more than any kind of man he appeared, and seemed rather an Elf-lord from the Isles of the West. And thus it was that Arwen first beheld him again after their long parting; and as he came walking towards her under the trees of Caras Galadhon laden with flowers of gold, her choice was made and her doom appointed.”

Aragorn had seen his Lady. All the fevered dreams of his youth seemed at once aflame in his veins. His heart beat fast, and his senses were tingling. She was there, still beautiful, still perfect, and yet he could not think what to do. He averted his gaze and stared at the ground. A sudden thought came to him and he snatched up a handful of the golden flowers that grew by his feet; and he walked toward her, butterflies in his stomach.
And so it was that Arwen turned and beheld him. And in her heart of hearts she was glad to see him, yet his face was stern and unreadable to her, for long years of toil and secrecy had taught him how to hide his true nature.

“My Lady,” he almost whispered.

“Mae govannen, Éstel.”

“Long years have passed since our first meeting under the woods in Imladris, and yet you are still as beautiful as the new born stars.” Arwen laughed, but her voice shook slightly.

“You wonder at that Dúnadan? As I said to you long ago, the children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar. But you, you have grown. No longer are you the boy just come to manhood. One could have mistaken you for an Elf-lord as you walked toward me then.”

“You flatter me,” Aragorn replied, forcing down the blush that threatened to surface in his face, “I am but of the race of Men.” Arwen could almost hear the thought that formed in Aragorn’s mind, and men are weak.

“Be not so hard on yourself, Éstel, Men may yet prove to be greater than the Eldar.” Then he smiled and looked into her eyes, but for all his skill he could not read her thought. Then he suddenly remembered the flowers in his hand.

“For you,” he said “beautiful blooms for a beautiful Lady.”

“Now it is my turn to feel flattered,” laughed Arwen “but is that all that you see in me, beauty?” her face grew grave and there was almost an anxious note in her voice.

“Nay, Lady,” answered Aragorn, “tis true that I see in you Lúthien Tinúviel come again, but methinks that which is pleasing to the eye may also be reflected in your fair nature.” This time it was Arwen’s turn to force down a blush, but she was feeling pleased with herself, and with Aragorn’s fair words towards her. Curse his unreadable face she thought.

As they had been talking they had wandered far from the court they had met in each other in, and now both found themselves to be somewhat lost. And completely alone. Aragorn sighed and stared at the trees around him.

“What are you thinking about?” enquired Arwen.

“The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas1.” Answered Aragorn, somewhat untruthfully, he had been thinking on his Lady. Arwen laughed.

“Wise and full of wit art thou, Éstel, be sure that it is not your downfall.”

“I will” whispered Aragorn, still full of thought. The day wore on, and still they stood, side by side, each lost in their own thoughts. At last Aragorn turned to Arwen, meaning to say something, but he lost his nerve at the last minute. Once again he caught the elven wisdom in her eyes, and turned away, ashamed.

“What is it Aragorn?” asked Arwen gently. Aragorn paused and looked around him.

“It must be nearly dinnertime. The day wears on and we still stand here.”

“Indeed it does, but I find your presence comforting. If you are finished thinking of the names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas, then we may go to the evening meal.” Aragorn smiled.

“Then let us eat.”

Yet out of this brief conversation was born a great friendship. For the next seven days the walked and talked and laughed together in that fair land. And Aragorn found that all his fears slipped away when he was with Arwen, that they had much to talk about, and had much in common. And he found that for all his fears she was easy to talk to and they came to know one another almost intimately. And Aragorn found that as the days passed, he loved Arwen more and more.

But by that time Arwen knew him well enough to see that there was a shadow between them, and that something troubled him; for he had not yet told Arwen of his love for her. And being in nature a lot like Galadriel her grandmother, Arwen was as outspoken as a man and confronted Aragorn on this matter.

It happened when they were resting together in Caras Galadhon. Aragorn was laid on the ground seeming to sleep but not. Then Arwen found the courage to ask the question that had been driving her mad.

“Aragorn?” she asked gingerly.


“I hope that over the past week we have spent together we have become friends.”

“We have my Lady.”

“Friends don’t keep secrets from each other.” Aragorn sat up then, fear gripping his heart.

“What do you mean?” he tried to keep the fear out of his voice, but he spoke thickly.

“I can tell when someone is keeping a secret from me. And I should think I know you well enough by now to know when you are lying to me.”

“I have never lied to you.” Aragorn’s voice was low and dangerous, but it was tinged with hurt.

“But I know you keep something back.” This Aragorn could not deny. “Why won’t you tell me.” Aragorn looked away.

“I cannot.”

“Why? Because I am a woman?” The last comment was said with vehemence, Aragorn knew how she felt on that matter.

“I cannot tell you because I can tell no one.”

“But I thought we were friends.”

“We are!” Aragorn’s was raised now. “But friends also respect each others’ wishes. I can tell no one!”

“I thought you’d be able to tell me.” And with that Arwen stomped off to dinner, leaving Aragorn feeling hurt, upset and confused. How was he ever going to make things right? Then he too left for the evening meal, trying unsuccessfully to force the thoughts to the back of his head.

Dinner was an awkward affair that evening. The tension between Aragorn and Arwen could have been cut with a sword, never mind a knife. This was something that did not escape the notice of Lady Galadriel. Being able to read the hearts and minds of others, she also discerned the cause of the problem, and vowed to confront Aragorn on it.

After dinner Aragorn sulked off on his own, and Galadriel took her chance.

“Aragorn?” he whipped round to find himself face to face with Galadriel, and lowered his eyes.

“My Lady Galadriel, what can I do for you?”

“You can answer a few questions for me.” Aragorn felt dread then, for he knew Galadriel could read many things, and would discover more than he could give in his answers. But he also knew that Galadriel was already perfectly aware of the situation.

“Is that really necessary my Lady? Surely you already know thrice that which I would give you in answer to your questions.” Galadriel smiled at this subtle compliment.

“And you know more than is good for you also.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Tell her.”

“I cannot.”

“Why?” but Galadriel already knew the answer to that question. “She would not rebuke you Éstel. You underestimate my Granddaughter greatly.”

“Nine and twenty years I have loved her, and long since I gave up hope that she could ever love me in return. She is too far above me.”

“Think not so of yourself Aragorn, you are not so low down as you think. And I do not think that you have given up all hope.” Aragorn sighed.

“For twenty-nine years I have hidden who I am, how I feel. It is hard for me now to open those gates long locked.”

“But you will open those gates for me, why then can you not for Arwen.”

“You my Lady have no need for open gates to read someone’s heart. Long ago you read my mind, and I have been naked to you ever since.”

“But you would ask me of my advice Naked One?”


“Then tell her, if only for the friendship you two share. Both of you are too lonely to fall out like this. Would you not rather share her friendship than her hate, if she cannot love you?” Aragorn knew that Galadriel was right, as always. He bowed and went off to think.

Arwen will go to him she thought this may yet turn out right.

Aragorn knew that Galadriel was right, but still he could not find the courage to tell Arwen how he felt. Coward he thought you have led armies to victory against impossible odds without fear, yet you are reduced to a trembling wreck at the thought of telling someone you love them.

But he knew why he was so afraid. All his life he had had to hide his true nature, he had become accustomed to shutting everyone out. If he let someone in then he would be vulnerable, a feeling he did not like. It did not help that he had been told quite clearly by the man he had called Father that he wasn’t good enough. Not good enough for Arwen. She is too far above you. He was broken from his musing by a quiet voice.

“Éstel?” It was Arwen. Aragorn took a deep breath and turned to look at her, a heartbreaking look in his eyes.

“I must tell you something Arwen…” then he faltered, unsure. What if she laughed? But a nasty little voice in his head told him: if she does, then she is not worth your love. Aragorn braced himself. “Arwen… you must forgive me if I… seem forward… but I cannot put what I want to say into words.”

Then Arwen found Aragorn’s lips on hers, in a brief but fiery kiss. To his surprise she did not push him away, but when he pulled away he was breathless from his own daring. He cared not if Arwen thought him a rogue, so sure was he of being rebuked. But he knew he had to plough on, though his heart felt ready to break. Arwen was still stunned from the kiss, so he took his chance.

“What I really meant to say… wanted to say is… I love you.” If Arwen was stunned before then it was nothing compared to her shock at this revelation. She was used to men desiring her body, but not to them confessing love to her. He continued “I have loved you ever since I first looked into your eyes, and saw there the elven light. Each long year that passed for me only increased the pain. But the last few days have made that pain unbearable. I love you, Arwen Evenstar, you and no other.”

Then Aragorn turned as to walk off as he felt the tears fall down his face. His life felt over, his heart was broken. All seemed lost until Arwen stirred.

“Wait!” she called “I would not have you leave with a broken heart. Not if I am the only one who could heal it.” Aragorn stayed then, if only to hear her voice one last time. But then Arwen too faltered. “I am afraid I have been somewhat hypocritical. I pressed for you to reveal your secrets, but still I kept my own. I am sorry. Since you have now opened your heart to me, I feel now is the right moment to return the favour, lest that moment be lost forever.”

Arwen knew what she had to say, and that she could say it now, but still she feared to say it. Once said, it could not be taken back, and that was what scared her. Yet Aragorn had found the courage to reveal long hidden secrets, she had to return the favour. But still she was transfixed by that brief kiss.

“You say you have loved me since you first looked into my eyes. You are certain, I am not. I know not whether my heart was turned when I saw you seven days ago, or whether I merely understood. Certainly I have thought much of you in your absence.” ,i>Stop digressing she thought “All I know is how I feel now, and I say to you Éstel, that I love you too.”

Then Aragorn understood. Hope at last came back into his heart, and filled it till he thought it would break with happiness. For that moment at least he cared not whether he was dreaming or not, all he cared for was Arwen’s eyes.

Somehow Aragorn kept his presence of mind, when Arwen seemed to lose hers. He took her chin in his hand, and their eyes met for a moment before he kissed her. Into this kiss he poured all of his love and desire of many years alone, and all his fears washed away. The kiss was as fiery as the last, but it ran deeper. In this kiss they told each other of their love over and over again, and they lost themselves in the passion of that kiss.

“So it has happened at last.” They were broken from that perfect moment by a voice; Galadriel. Both blushed, still breathing heavily; but their hands remained clasped, though neither could remember them coming together. Galadriel looked vaguely amused at their embarrassment. “I wondered when you would both realise.” Then Aragorn understood, it was not just his heart that she had read.

“Thank you.” He said. Galadriel merely smiled and left them alone again. Aragorn felt a light touch on his lips, and looked down to find Arwen with her arms wound around his ribs. He laughed and kissed her again, not caring who looked on.

For that moment all that mattered was that they were together, in love. Neither cared how long they stood there. Indeed it was awhile before they came up for air.

But both knew that this was only the beginning.

Wednesday, 14 February 2007

More Blogthings

Your Kissing Technique Is: Perfect

Your kissing technique is amazing - and you know it.
You have the confidence to make the first move.
And you always seem to know what kissing style is going to work best.
Sometimes you're passionate, sometimes you're a tease. And you're always amazing!

Your Brain is 47% Female, 53% Male

Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female
You are both sensitive and savvy
Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed
But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve

Best Valentine's Ever!

Ha! Just had the best Valentine's Day ever.

The boyfriend came over, we had a chocolate fondue, made love, went for a walk on the beach and then went out for a meal at a Chinese restaurant.

AND i got a teddy bear HE christened Nymphadora Tonks and a red rose.

I think i might jsut be a teeny-weeny little bit in love.

CaptainRazzle xxxx

Tuesday, 13 February 2007


Your Seduction Style: The Charmer

You're a master at intimate conversation and verbal enticement.
You seduce with words, by getting people to open up to you.
By establishing this deep connection quickly, people feel under your power.
And then you've got them exactly where you want them!


The Second Part of my sequel to 'The Deepest Wounds bleed Not'

Title- The Greatest Battles Are Fought Within

Chapter 6- fight back, Éomer, fight back

All I know for sure is I’m trying
I will always stand my ground

Stand my ground
I wont give in (I wont give in)
I wont give up (I wont give up)
No more denying I got to face it
Won’t close my eyes n hide the truth inside
If I don’t make it someone else will

Stand my ground
I won’t give in
No more denying
I’ve got to face it
Won’t close my eyes and hide the truth inside
If I don’t make it someone else will
Stand my ground

“First things first, we need to keep you busy,” announced Faramir happily over breakfast the next morning. Éomer looked up at him sceptically from his bread and honey.

“What on earth has gotten into you Faramir?” he asked. Faramir merely shrugged happily, but Éomer got the feeling that Faramir knew something that he didn’t.

“You need to stop dwelling on your problems and find something constructive to do.”

“And what is there constructive to do around here for mad people?” asked Éomer sardonically. He could hear high pitched giggling in his ear again, but resisted the urge to swat his shoulder; he would get the better of them.

“Evidently what you are lacking is mental discipline,” said Faramir suddenly dropping the giddy tone. “And look at you Éomer, you are as unfit as anything; your muscles are far too relaxed, and you’ve been drinking far too much lately, you’ve developed a real beer belly! What good are you going to be if you cannot fight?”

“I haven’t been able to practise for months. My bad arm hindered me for a long time and you try finding time to practise your swordplay when there are a hundred councils to attend in a day,” said Éomer irritably.

“Well, now your arm has healed, and you have plenty of time on you hands, you can get into shape again.” And with that Faramir dragged Éomer to his feet and out the door with his giddy school boy face back on, leaving Éomer mourning his only half eaten breakfast.


Not too long later Éomer found himself in the practise ring stripped to the waist and sword in hand facing an equally half-naked and similarly armed Faramir, who was still sporting his silly grin.

“What in the name of Gandalf’s undergarments is wrong with you? You and Éowyn aren’t expecting my first niece or nephew are you?”

“Well if we are then Éowyn hasn’t told me yet,” said Faramir seriously “Here’s to hoping!” the silly grin was back on his face. Éomer shook his head as if in despair at his brother’s childish behaviour.

“Then why the silly grin Faramir? What do you know?” Faramir merely tapped the side of his nose.

“I brought you out here to get you into shape, not to answer silly questions.” Then Faramir straightened up, saluted and shouted, “Éomer King, have at thee.”

For the next hour Faramir pressed him hard, and by the end both were sweating profusely. Éomer’s muscles had burned painfully from early on, but he practised the mental discipline Faramir had told him he needed and ignored it; he knew he needed to do this as much for his sanity as for his fitness. After a quick drink and a bucket of water over both their heads to cool down, they were back in the ring and fighting again.

Éomer was tired, and he found he couldn’t fight both Faramir and the constant urging and giggling in his head. His muscles burned, and his instincts cried out to stop so that he could confront his demons head on. Instead Éomer launched himself at his brother-in-law with such ferocity that Faramir had a hard time matching him. Steel clashed against steel with frightening tempo. At the end of the allotted hour Éomer refused to relent, and pressed Faramir hard until they were both exhausted. Even Faramir’s well kept muscles were burning with the effort now, and his throat was dry. Éomer simply would not let up, his brow was furrowed, and Faramir knew that it was not him that he growled at.

Finally, the pain and mounting exhaustion built up a wall that the demons could not penetrate through, and Éomer’s determination kept it there. He fell down suddenly, finally succumbing to fatigue, and Faramir nearly fell over him. Both men lay on the ground breathing hard and painfully for some time before Faramir found the strength to speak.

“What happened, Éomer?” asked Faramir through laboured breaths.

“They tried to get into my head, but I wouldn’t let them. I thought you said I didn’t have mental discipline,” laughed Éomer.

“Okay you proved your point, but did you have to take it out on me?” gasped Faramir clutching his heaving chest still; they had been practising at a ferocious pace for well over an hour, and it was showing in both the men.

Éomer grinned even as he felt the first attempts to breach the block of his weary mind, but he denied them. This was all in his head, and in his head he would be in control; if he could not even control his own thoughts, then how could he ever hope to keep control of a country? He growled away the shadows that threatened to overtake his thoughts; only sheer determination would keep his own thoughts under control.

He looked up and met Faramir’s eyes; those kind grey eyes that held so much wisdom and hid a lifetime of pain. Faramir had fought away his demons, Éowyn had helped him do that, just as he had helped her fight hers, and now he and Éowyn were helping him fight his demons. And Lothíriel is helping me too he thought. Éomer realised how lucky he truly was to have those three; they gave him reason to fight, they gave him hope, and that is the most precious gift of all.

Éomer said none of this, but he knew Faramir understood; Faramir always understood.

“Come on you great oaf,” he smiled, “lets get some food.”

Éomer’s stomach growled loudly in answer and both men laughed.


Éomer’s physical condition improved dramatically over the next week, and his mental discipline increased daily. By the end of a fortnight he was once more the powerful warrior he had previously been, beating all in Ithilien who would fight him. His demons were under control during the day now, and the noble and honourable man he truly was began to surface once more.

Night time was an entirely different story. His demons manifested themselves in his dreams, and not a night went by when he was not visited by horrific nightmares. During the night, Éomer relived all the bad things that had happened in his life, relived every gruesome battle in sickening blow-by-blow detail. He would wake several times a night, drenched with cold sweat and screaming, often entangled in his bedclothes from thrashing violently.

Despite this though, Faramir thought he was ready to re-enter the public domain, inviting him to attend the Council of Gondor when he went on the 20th of May. Éomer politely declined. He knew it would be better for him to wait until he was completely recovered before he re-entered public scrutiny once more.

But Éomer still didn’t know when that would be.

Chapter 7- Consequences and Revelations

Look into my eyes, you will see
What you mean to me,
Search your heart, search your soul
And if you find me there you will search no more,
Don’t tell me it’s not worth trying for
You can’t tell me it’s not worth dying for
You know it’s true
Everything I do, I do it for you.
-Bryan Adams, (Everything I do) I Do it For You

Éomer awoke one morning before the end of May to find himself on the cold stone floor and Faramir stood over him with an ugly look on his face. Éomer sat up and shook the sleep from his head.

“What in the name of all the Valar in Valinor have I done now?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“You’ve been walking in your sleep again,” said Faramir in a cold voice that chilled Éomer’s soul “and you attacked Éowyn.” Éomer groaned and buried his face in his hands. Not only had he probably turned his sister and brother-in-law against him, but in the same night he had managed to undo months of hard work. “And if that weren’t bad enough, Éowyn is also with child.”

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

“Possibly,” replied Faramir and Éomer could not hold back his tears then. Faramir’s heart melted, deeply moved by pity for his troubled friend. Éomer was sat ranting nonsensically through his tears, saying that he should just be left in the wilderness to die and other such ridiculous ramblings. Faramir cleared his throat to get Éomer’s attention.

“You need not worry your silly little head too much,” said Faramir, the tone of his voice dramatically different, “the healer says that a fall down the stairs shouldn’t have caused any damage to the unborn babe; Éowyn is as tough as old boots and twice as stubborn.” Éomer was shocked out of his crying.

“You’re covering up for me again aren’t you?” Faramir smiled. “Do you ever think that you’d be better off if I had killed myself, after all the trouble I’ve caused?”

“Never!” replied Faramir truthfully. “You have a knack for attracting trouble that others have to get you out of, but we’ll see you through it.”

“I don’t deserve friends like you,” said Éomer miserably.

“Stop winging you great pansy! Do you want to visit your clumsy sister or not?” Faramir’s eyes twinkled, and Éomer joined in the jesting.

“So you were lying to me when you said I wasn’t going to be an uncle.”

“I didn’t say that,” Faramir protested “I said that Éowyn hadn’t told me.” Éomer dragged himself up form the floor and wiped the remnants of his tears form his eyes. Faramir smiled, he could see in Éomer’s eyes that his night time attack hadn’t undone the work they had all put in to his recovery, it had simply doubled his resolve. “Come on, let’s go see Éowyn.”


Éowyn as it happened turned out to be quite alright apart from a few bruises, and was more bothered about the fact Faramir was keeping her to her bed than the fact her brother had beaten her up. Éomer had sat and cried and apologised profusely, and Éowyn let her brother get it out of his system. Both she and Faramir were glad that he wasn’t going to give up after this little setback; it was commonly known that the love Éomer held for his sister was rival to none, and if anything had happened to her because of him it would have destroyed him.

Eventually Faramir pestered that Éowyn should be left to sleep, much to her disapproval, and Éomer slipped out to be alone. He needed to think.


Éomer was sat with his back against a tree in the Gardens of Ithilien, widely regarded as the most beautiful gardens in all of Gondor, but it was not his sister’s handiwork that concerned Éomer now. Éomer hated himself for what he had done to Éowyn, and he felt wretched that she and Faramir had covered for him yet again. Éomer knew that these were emotions that his so called demons could feed on, but he refused to let them; he was going to find a way to destroy them once and for all.

All he needed to do was discover the emotion that gave them most power, and then find a way to eliminate that emotion; easier said than done.

Éomer sat racking his brains for the best part of an hour, trying without much success to find the root of all of his problems. He mentally went through all the major events in his life, trying to sort through the emotions he had felt at the time, but he failed to find a solution to his problems; his demons were still laughing at him somewhere inside his head. Éomer buried his head in his hands in despair.

I wish Lothíriel were here he thought miserably. Then he lifted his head up, realisation slowly dawning in him at last. His hands reached to his throat to where his swan pendant hung, almost forgotten. He took it off and turned it over in his hands, remembering at last what he had discovered that night he had almost killed himself, that night he had blocked out of his memory.

This simple gift, nothing more than a necklace had saved him, and at last he knew why. It was a gift from someone very dear to him, someone who cared about him and had lent him strength when he most needed it; and so the pendant lent him strength too. The swan necklace was a gift from someone he loved; for Éomer realised now that he did indeed love Lothíriel, and Éomer felt stupid for not realising it sooner. What he had to do was clear to him now, and excitedly he set about preparing for his journey.


An hour later Éowyn came out of the house to find out what all the commotion was about, to find her brother sat astride Firefoot in a set of armour he had purloined from the Ithilien armouries and quite obviously prepared for a long journey.

“Éomer! What in the blazes do you think you are doing?”

“I have to go to Dol Amroth Éowyn,” replied her brother, who was trying to convince the gate keeper to let him out.

“What the hell for? Éomer I don’t think you should attempt this right now,” warned Éowyn when her brother looked as if he would argue with her.

“I have to get to Dol Amroth!” Éomer almost shouted, “Trust me on this!” Éowyn though that her brother had lost his mind completely and was about to voice this opinion when she felt her husband’s hand on her arm.

“It’s alright,” he said to Éowyn more than to Éomer, “You go get your girl Éomer.”

Éowyn wondered what the hell her husband was on about for a moment before it dawned on her. Éomer merely smiled; the ever astute Faramir had of course known how he felt all along. Faramir had known the solution to Éomer’s problem but had had to ensure he stayed alive long enough to discover it for himself.

“Thank you.” He said simply.

“Any time, little brother,” said Faramir with an affectionate smile on his face, “Now go.”

Éomer kicked Firefoot into motion and was gone, bound for Dol Amroth and his fair lady.

“He is healed.” Said Éowyn.

“Almost,” replied Faramir “Almost.”

Chapter 8- Dol Amroth

Éomer had envisioned some slight problems about his unexpected trip to Dol Amroth, but he hadn’t envisioned them being problems with getting into the palace. The Doorward at the Palace had evidently heard too many of the rumours surrounding the ‘madman’ King of Rohan and was obstinately refusing to grant Éomer entry.

“Listen you damned fool I am the King of the Riddermark; open the flaming door!” barked Éomer attempting rather unsuccessfully to keep his notoriously fiery temper in check; he would bear scars for the rest of his life from the last time he lost his temper.

“Sorry milord, but I can’t do that. No offence sir but they say you admitted to being mad, and I can’t let a madman in to see my lord the Prince.”

“I may be mad but now you are making me angry,” warned Éomer “Open the door.” When the door ward looked like arguing for the umpteenth time Éomer cut across him. “If you listened to the rumours properly you’d realise that I am more of a danger to myself than to anyone else.” The Doorward didn’t have a satisfying argument to this and so reluctantly he let Éomer in.


Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth looked up as someone barged into the council room unannounced. His face quickly turned to surprise when he saw who it was.

“Éomer King, what brings you to my door?” Éomer smiled inside that someone still recognised his authority.

“Prince Imrahil, I am sorry for the unexpected visit but I really must speak with Princess Lothíriel.” Elphir wasn’t the only one on the council who looked jumpy at that announcement. Imrahil however didn’t flinch.

“She’s out in the terraced garden, reading if I know her.” he smiled.

Éomer murmured his thanks and set off, quite definitely distracted. Once out the room the council erupted into a thousand protests about “that madman being allowed to be alone with the Princess.” Imrahil calmly stated that he trusted Éomer with his life and most certainly trusted him with his daughter before matter-of-factly returning to the issues at hand.


Lothíriel was indeed sat in the terraced garden, reading a book on the histories of Gondor and looking out over the sea. It was a fine day, the sun was warm on her face, and Lothíriel pitied anyone stuck inside at that moment. Lothíriel heard a slight commotion in the corner of the garden and looked up to find Éomer striding across the lawn towards her wearing the livery of Ithilien.

Lothíriel’s first thought was how good it was to see her friend again; her second was how good he looked. His muscles once again looked impressive under the fine armour he wore, and there was pride, dignity and power in his gait once more. But it was his face that was most striking; the wind whipped cords of his golden hair about a face that spoke of nobility despite the unkempt beard on the chin, and his eyes showed none of his troubles, and held the most happiness Lothíriel had seen in them in a long time. There was much more to behold in those tender brown eyes, and none of it spoke of demons or knives or self harming.

“What in Arda’s name are you doing here?” Lothíriel called when Éomer was near enough.

“Am I not allowed to come visit my dearest friend?” he grinned as he swept her into a warm embrace. “I missed you.” he whispered into Lothíriel’s ear.

“I missed you too.” She replied as he released her from his bear-hug, “Which is why I am surprised to see you here. I never got one letter, not even to tell me you were safe and well and back in Emyn Arnen.” Éomer’s eyes changed then, and a hint of sorrow crept in, but Lothíriel saw something else in his eye that she thought she recognised, though she did not take it for granted; Éomer’s emotions were rather unpredictable. “Why are you here Éomer?” she asked not quite keeping the suspicion out of her voice.

“To bring you the wonderful news that I am healed in my mind, or very nearly so. There is just one thing I have left to do.”

“What do you have to do?” asked Lothíriel, not liking the seeming distress in Éomer’s eyes as he told her he was well again. Lothíriel could see he was scared, but she could not understand why.

“Valar Lothíriel I’ve been such a damned fool!” he burst out suddenly “The answer was right in front of my face all the time and I was too stupid to see it!”

“What answer Éomer?” as a reply Éomer took out the swan pendant Lothíriel had given him.

“It was there all those months ago; I knew what I had to do back in November, but I allowed myself to be distracted and I forgot about it. I recognised the power this simple gift had and I allowed my own self concocted demons to hide it from me because I was scared of the truth. I did not dare believe it was so simple.” Éomer stepped closer to Lothíriel and showed her the pendant with a smile back on his face and in his eyes. “This pendant helped you through the darkest hour of your life, because your mother gave you it. It was a gift from someone you loved dearly and who loved you in return. It provided support because when you held it you remembered the love your mother gave you. When I held this little swan I remembered the friendship and support you have shown me since the beginning, and I realised that you are the only one who can truly save me. I love you, Lothíriel, more than I ever thought I could love anyone, and will only truly be saved if you can tell me that you love me too.”

Lothíriel looked surprised for a moment as she absorbed what Éomer had just said, before breaking out into a wide smile.

“Éomer you are the biggest bloody fool there is. I knew I loved you when I gave you that pendant; I have loved you since the moment I first met you. My mother told me that the only person I was to give this to was the man I planned to spend the rest of my life with. I loved you enough to know that then and I love you even more know.” Lothíriel stepped towards Éomer’s waiting arms and whispered in his ear. “You are free.”

“No,” he murmured “I am home.”

Then their lips met and they were lost to the world, lost in each others embrace. Neither were aware how long they stood there; they had both waited far too long for this to worry about such trivial matters. Both were amazed at the hidden passion that had been bubbling under the surface of both of them, and when the pair finally surfaced, both were struggling for breath even though the kiss had started off as tender, an exploration of the unknown.

“Did you say something about me being the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?” asked Éomer with a grin.

“I think, Éomer King, that we will have to if you keep kissing me like that!” Éomer laughed.

“Marry me?” he murmured against Lothíriel’s lips before gently kissing her.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Said Lothíriel with a happy smile on her face.

Éomer laughed, and kissed her again, and again, and again. He never wanted to stop kissing this wonderful woman, and he could not remember feeling as good as he did when Lothíriel was in his arms. They only stopped kissing each other when the dinner bell went, and Éomer realised he was still in a set of armour borrowed from his brother-in-law’s armoury with nothing else to change into. Reluctantly he released Lothíriel and set of to see if he could borrow some clothes form someone.


Imrahil sidled over to where the young King of Rohan was watching the dancing. He looked fine in an open necked tunic made of a light blue colour; Dol Amroth’s colours as he had borrowed it from Imrahil’s eldest son Elphir. The open neck allowed the Prince to see something very interesting; Éomer was wearing a beautiful silver swan pendant, with just a single sapphire.

“So it was you that she gave it to?” asked Imrahil by way of greeting. Éomer looked surprised at first, but quickly put his hand to his neck, understanding what it was the Prince was talking about. He smiled and nodded. “I thought she had. Lothíriel stopped wearing it some months ago, but insisted that she had simply put it away for safe keeping. I knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but also that she would tell me who she had given her heart to when she was ready.”

“Are all Gondorians so perceptive?” asked Éomer pretending to sound annoyed.

“No,” laughed Imrahil “Just the ones with elvish blood. Faramir knows as well?” Éomer nodded.

“Faramir knew before even I found the intelligence to work it out; and he probably knew of Lothíriel’s intentions when she gave me this pendant last spring.”

“Indeed, I am sure he did.” Imrahil cocked his head, as if in amusement. “I think that you will make an excellent son-in-law Éomer.”

“Then you give your consent for me to marry your daughter? What will the rest of Gondor think about Lothíriel marrying the madman King of Rohan?” Éomer looked and sounded slightly worried, but Imrahil never stopped smiling.

“They probably will not like it but frankly I don’t give a damn! You have shown immense courage Éomer; you have faced your innermost fears and demons and overcome overwhelming odds to find yourself again. You stood tall and brave at the Black Gate and fought for the freedom of Gondor on the Pelennor Field before the gates of the White City and for that you won great renown, but the greatest battles are fought within ourselves. Few who endure such emotional and psychological torment come through as you have; you are a blessed man Éomer King.”

“Éadig,” murmured Éomer quietly.

“Pardon?” asked Imrahil.

“Éadig,” replied Éomer “It means blessed in the Rohirric tongue.”

“Very well then, Éomer Éadig you shall be. Now if you will excuse me a moment.” Imrahil moved away to the dais at the end of the hall, and the next thing Éomer knew Imrahil had called the room to attention in order to make a speech.

“Ladies and Gentleman, Lords and Ladies of Gondor, I have great news indeed for our lands. Éomer, King of Rohan has asked for the hand of my daughter, Princess Lothíriel, which she grants full willing, and thus, so do I. Therefore I have great pleasure in announcing the betrothal of King Éomer the Blessed to my daughter, Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth.”

For a moment the room stood still in a shocked silence, the noble of Dol Amroth hardly able to believe the folly of their Prince. The first to move was Prince Elphir, who strode over to where Éomer was stood looking slightly tense to say the least. Elphir held his hand out to the King which Éomer took and shook nervously.

“I believe congratulations are in order upon your betrothal, brother.” Éomer smiled at the last word, and Elphir returned the grin and took Éomer into a brotherly embrace. “Forgive me for doubting in you, brother,” whispered Elphir in Éomer’s ear “but by your own words we all thought you mad.”

“You are quite forgiven Elphir, and I swear I will make Lothíriel Queen.” Elphir nodded as he drew back.

“When a man’s engagement is announced it is a polite custom to offer the couple a toast,” said Elphir almost angrily as he looked to his father.

“To Éomer Éadig and Lothíriel of Dol Amroth; long may you be happy together,” called the Prince by way of a toast, which was reluctantly taken up by the nobles.

“Éomer Éadig and Princess Lothíriel,” called the assembled nobles as the pair in question grinned at each other across the room.

There was still much work to be done, but Éomer was going to be all right at last.

Chapter 9- Leaving

Éomer spent a blissful month in Dol Amroth; the most wonderful time he had ever spent in his whole life that he could remember unless it was those months with Faramir, Éowyn and Lothíriel the previous year.

During that time Éomer began his rehabilitation into the world in which he would have to walk if, when, he took up his throne once more. Many hours were spent in council with Prince Imrahil, his sons and other nobles striking preliminary agreements on trade arrangements and other such bureaucracy.

Many blissful hours were also spent on the beach with Lothíriel, and the couple soon became the talk of the City, not least because of their ‘inappropriate’ displays of affection for one another. Not that either Éomer or Lothíriel cared one jot; they were just glad to be together, and happy that for once things seemed to be going right for Éomer.

Éomer was thankful that Dol Amroth largely kept itself to itself, and as such there were no rumours escaping to other parts of Gondor or even to Rohan of the betrothal of the King of Rohan and Princess of Dol Amroth, nor of Éomer’s rehabilitation into the world of politics and his seeming recovery.

Éomer would fight his battles, when and where he chose to fight them.

But Éomer knew he could not stay in the blissful peace and security of Dol Amroth forever; there was still one battle left to fight, and it could only be fought in Rohan. The only trouble was tearing himself away from Lothíriel, but she had to be told, and so Éomer faced his love one night about his departure.


Éomer went to Lothíriel in the evening, when the stars were just out and the flowers fragranced the air in the garden she was sat in, reading as ever. The first thing Lothíriel noticed was the glum look on Éomer’s face, and not being one to beat about the bush, she asked him what was wrong. Éomer sighed deeply.

“All is not well in the world; a kingdom is without her king, and that king dwells in exile. True, many generations have not yet passed but Rohan still awaits the return of her own king even as Gondor has done in all the days of my forefathers.”

“You are leaving.” Lothíriel did not ask, she merely stated, and she could not meet Éomer’s eye.

“Aye, though it tears me apart to do so, and I know that I will leave my heart behind in Dol Amroth.” Lothíriel at last looked at her betrothed. “I swore to Elphir that I would make you queen.”

Lothíriel crossed to where Éomer was stood and placed her hands on his chest as she looked tenderly into her beloved’s eyes.

“Not all your battles are yet won, and I must wait patiently as ever until you have triumphed again.”

“I have just one more thing left to do, and were it not for you, Lothíriel, I would not be able to fight this last battle. You have made me whole again, and I will spend the rest of my life paying off this debt that I owe you; I love you.”

“I love you too,” whispered Lothíriel.

Then their lips met in a tender kiss that neither Éomer nor Lothíriel was willing to break for a very long time, for they knew that it would be their last kiss until they met once more, whenever that was to be.

Éomer would leave in the morning.

Chapter 10- Éomer King’s Final Battle

Three figures on horseback raced across the plains of Rohan towards the capital, Edoras. They did not slow as they approached the gates of the city, and the guards did not dare stand on their way. The three riders made their way up the hill to the Golden Hall of Meduseld, the seat of the Kings of the Riddermark. They ascended the steps and at the sight of the riders’ golden haired leader the guards stood up straight and admitted him without question.


Éomer swept into the Golden Hall and his eyes were immediately drawn to a group of men stood around a table upon the dais at the far end. One man’s face in particular drew Éomer’s eyes.

“What is he doing in my hall?” bellowed Éomer, drawing the attention of everybody in the vicinity.

“I could ask you the very same thing,” replied the councillor Tyrannon with a very smug look on his face.

“Last I looked, Éomer, not Tyrrannon was King of Rohan,”

“And last I knew Éomer King had stepped down from his throne, willingly, knowing himself to be unfit for rule due to an unsound mind,” retorted the politician.

“It was not a permanent abdication and I fully intended to return when I was fully fit once more.”

Éomer was starting to get angry, but was doing a very good job of suppressing his temper. The sensible Rohirrim decided that their King was far more frightening when his temper was just bubbling under the surface, but under control. Tyrannon however seemed to have a reckless streak and ploughed on.

“And who has judged you to be fit, Éomer King.”

“Not you Tyrannon, you have not the right! By heritage you are Gondorian, though you do your country no credit, and as such you cannot judge the Kings of the Mark!”

Éomer let his temper out a little then.

“It seems to me that you are having trouble with your temper Éomer King, are you sure you are ready to rule a kingdom?”

Tyrannons voice was laced with silk and slime, and Éomer recognised the tone, especially when Gamling, Elfhelm and Éothain, who were stood nearby looked like agreeing with the Gondorian.

“Silence snake!” bellowed Éomer suddenly, “I swore when I took the throne that I would not allow such leech-craft in my halls again. It seems that in my absence a Worm has once more judged Rohan to be weak and ready for the taking.”

Éomer looked livid, and Tyrannon was suddenly afraid of the power the young King seemed to possess. Éomer walked slowly up to the politician until they were stood face to face, and then the King hissed in Tyrannon’s ear.

“Grima’s leech-craft and lust for power turned out to be his downfall; be sure you do not meet the same sticky end.” Then Éomer stood back and called to his guards. “Guards, please escort this man to the dungeons, I trust they will be more suited to his temperament.”

“Stay where you are!” barked Tyrannon suddenly and angrily. The guards seemed unsure of which order to follow.

“Eorlingas,” called Éomer loudly “Who would you follow, your King who is of the house of Eorl, or this Gondorian politician of no house of renown?”

The guards decided to obey their king, and Tyrannon was dragged to the dungeons kicking and screaming. When the politician was safely out of sight Éomer turned and looked at his councillors with a strange look upon his face; a mixture of anger, defiance and a demand for respect.

“Well,” said Gamling with a sigh, “I think we can safely say that the King of Rohan has quite definitely returned and means business.” The other advisors fidgeted a little.

“What puzzles me,” said Éomer, traces of his earlier anger still evident in his voice, “Is why perfectly sensible and I hope, loyal, advisors such as yourselves would fall for the charms of such a man.”

“He said that King Elessar had sent him to offer his advice while Rohan was without her King. We had no reason to disbelieve him.” said Éothain. Éomer pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It did not occur to you that he might have brought about my being removed from office intentionally in an attempt to seize power over Rohan?” All three advisors looked stunned. “Well now I know I have the most dim-witted councillors in Middle-Earth, I hope that I can still count on them for their loyalty.”

“What puzzles me most, my lord, is why the King of the Riddermark chooses to make his dramatic return garbed in the livery of Ithilien and escorted by two Swan Knights of Dol Amroth.” Elfhelm’s only defence against the glare his King shot him was the smile upon his face.

“Well I would have preferred to have had my own set of armour, but apparently someone saw fit to bring that back to Rohan. I am escorted by Swan Knights because Prince Imrahil did not wish me to return to Rohan from Dol Amroth alone.”

“And why was our King in Dol Amroth?” inquired Gamling. All present were surprised when Éomer’s stern countenance finally melted.

“I went to seek the hand of Princess Lothíriel from her father. We were troth-plighted almost six weeks ago. Imrahil at least has faith in the soundness of my mind.”

“Éomer, you are honestly telling me that you are to wed the Princess of Dol Amroth?” Éothain looked incredulous

“Yes,” smiled Éomer, “Rohan is to have a Queen after more than forty years. Finally the Rohirrim will have something to celebrate.”

Then Éomer turned to one of the orderlies and gave him instructions in his own tongue. Once the servant had bustled off to fulfil the task given to him, Gamling turned to Éomer.

“Pardon me for asking my lord, but why to you require a tunic bearing The White Horse and a green cloak?”

“There is one last thing I must do before I can call myself King again; I must seek the approval of the people I serve.”

“Is that such a wise idea Éomer? After all, you made sure that it was known around Rohan about your, ahem, condition.”

Just then the servant returned with the items Éomer had requested. He removed the cloak he was wearing and donned the surcoat and cloak he had just been given.

“A king cannot be a king without the approval of the people he rules else he would be a tyrant. Look at me Gamling; do I look like a tyrant to you?”

“No my lord, you are no tyrant.” replied Gamling.

“Then I must see my people.”


A horn blew, and the people of Edoras looked up from their work to see a tall figure stood on the steps of the Golden Hall. His countenance was stern as he surveyed the city, and his golden hair and the green cloak he wore blew about him in the wind; there was no mistaking that this was the King of the Riddermark. For a long moment no one moved or spoke; a young Rider was the first to stir. Hesitantly he walked up the steps to the Meduseld until he was stood before his King. Slowly he drew his sword from its sheath, laid it at Éomer’s feet, before stepping back and crying out “Hail Éomer King!” The cry was taken up by the people as they all fell to their knees before the King.

Éomer’s features curved into a small smile before he turned his attention to the young lad knelt at his feet. He bent down and put his fingers under the lad’s chin, forcing him to meet his eye.

“What is your name son?” asked the King in a kind voice.

“Hereric son of Herefara my lord.” Replied the young man.

“Arise then, Hereric, son of Herefara, I owe you much.”

“Pardon me, your Majesty, but I do not understand how you owe me anything.” the poor lad looked terrified that the King could owe him anything.

“A King is no King without a Kingdom, and a Kingdom cannot exist without its people. My throne rested upon the will of the people, and all it takes is one solitary voice to woo the people; I owe you my throne, Hereric.” Éomer smiled, “Come Hereric, I must greet my people.”

Éomer spent many hours greeting his people, telling them his good news, assuring them of his health, and promising them a brighter future than they had had in a long time. When Éomer finally went back into the Golden Hall he sat down with his councillors and advisors to discuss events that had occurred during his absence, and how the King meant to move on from here.

When Éomer finally found a moment to himself it was very late indeed, and he was still wearing the armour he had travelled in, and the tunic and cloak he had requested earlier. Instead of ordering a bath and retiring to bed, he sat down behind his desk and began to write a letter to Lothíriel. He told her that he had arrived safely home, and that all was well now; he wrote of the events of the day he had had, and also informed her that preparations for the wedding would begin on the morrow.

Éomer finally went to bed that night feeling that all was right with the world; everything was at long last going to be okay.

Chapter 11- The Wedding

Éomer looked around the Golden Hall at the many drinking, dancing and laughing people. Edoras and even the whole of Rohan were celebrating, and this seemed strange to Éomer after the land lying so long in darkness. For a moment he closed his eyes and remembered the event that had brought such joy to his people.

In his mind he could still see Lothíriel’s smiling eyes as he uttered his vows to her; as he had proclaimed complete and everlasting love and devotion to her before the entire world. And when her voice had faltered as she repeated her vows, all he had to do was give her a small smile and there was courage and conviction once again in her words.

Éomer’s eyes searched around the hall, looking for Lothíriel amongst the many drunk and bawdy men of Rohan. His gaze finally rested upon his wife who was dancing with her cousin, while a heavily pregnant Éowyn looked on with a smile. Éomer wove his way through the crowd, hindered only by well-wishers who wished to offer their congratulations to their king upon his marriage. Finally he stood upon the dance floor in the path that Lothíriel and Faramir wished to take, causing them to stop in their tracks.

“Yes, can I help you?” enquired Faramir politely. Éomer smiled.

“I have come to relieve you of my wife, dear brother; it is time she was returned to me.”

“As you wish my lord,” replied Faramir formally, bowing to the king of Rohan.

Éomer took Faramir’s place as Lothíriel’s partner, and for a moment the two newlyweds were simply content to be in one another’s company. But soon enough Lothíriel’s curiosity got the better of her, and she voiced her musings.

“What was that about, with you and Faramir?” Éomer smiled, something he which seemed to be doing more and more of.

“I was simply teasing him, my love. And anyway, he looks quite content to be with his own wife.”

Lothíriel glanced over at her cousin and had to agree, Faramir looked none too bothered that Éomer had stolen his dance partner. When Lothíriel looked back at her husband he was looking at her with a strange smouldering look in his eyes.

“I love you.” he said simply.

“I love you too,” replied Lothíriel, but the look in her eyes belied the words she said.

Éomer halted their dance and pulled his wife close to his chest.

“What troubles you my love? Tonight is supposed to be a celebration.”

“There will be other battles to fight, and I fear that I cannot help you to win all of them.”

Éomer took her chin in his hand and raised Lothíriel’s head to meet her eyes.

“You have already helped me to win the greatest battle I have ever fought. You have equipped me with the shield of you love and the sword of hope. I will prevail in all my battles because I know that you will be waiting here for me to come home to, and that thought is warming indeed to my heart.”

Lothíriel had no words to truly reply to what he had just said, so she leant up and kissed him instead.

“You finally have the happy ending you so longed for, my love.” said Lothíriel tenderly stroking her husband’s cheek.

“No I don’t,” said Éomer “This is no ending, but the beginning of the rest of our lives together. The end will never come for us as long as we love each other.”

“I didn’t think you were a man of such poetry,” she teased “I had thought Faramir was more inclined to spout such flowery words.”

“Don’t get used to it.” growled Éomer in return, pretending to be annoyed.

“Anyway, that is enough talking; I have plans for you this evening, O my darling wife.”

And with that Éomer kissed Lothíriel soundly, much to the appreciation of the roaring crowd. When he had done he scooped her up in his arms and made his way to the door, completely oblivious to the jibes of those who knew perfectly well what was to come next for the two newlyweds.

Much later that night, when the stars were shining in the sky and fair Ithil was beginning his descent towards the earth, the King and Queen of Rohan finally saw fit to take their rest. And as the two lovers fell asleep, entwined in each others arms, Ithil who looked on thought that maybe, just maybe, even the deepest wounds can be healed with just a little bit of love.