Characters: Lothiriel, Éomer
Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
They danced; Lothíriel felt a tingle where they touched and butterflies in her stomach. He asked for more dances than was polite and she wished it were even more.
Over the next weeks he sought her out in any crowd and made her feel as if they were the only people there.
Papa smiled. Lothíriel was not stupid; were Éomer to ask for her hand it would be a politically desirable match. Oh! Let him ask.
And now they had evaded her brothers and were alone. They touched. The tingle was immediate but her butterflies were gone; replaced by eagles!