Chapter 32

They reached Aldburg one rainy evening after many long days of travelling. It was fitting in a way, Éomer supposed – the last time he and Lothíriel had been together in this place, it had been raining. But this was not the hard downpour of that night, but a gentle, soft drizzle of late summer. Nevertheless, he wondered if it was wrong to think this was a kind of mending to the pain they had both felt then and for so many weeks that had followed.

Wiping wet hair from his face, he glanced longingly at the warm, inviting lights of his former home, but he would have to care for his guests before being able to change into something warm and dry. Then again, it could just be some were less in the need of it than the others. Was it just his imagination or did it seem like the rain purposefully avoided hitting the Lady Galadriel? Éomer shook his head. The Hall had probably never been so packed as it would be tonight.

As he began to give orders and things started to happen, he had time to notice three eager faces, peeking outside from the cover of the Hall. He couldn't help but smile and wondered if he would even get to see Lothíriel for the rest of the night. She and her friends would have a lot of catching up to do.

When the carriage rolled into the courtyard, he made way to it and helped his wife outside. She looked moody and impatient, and who could blame her? It had to be trying, having no choice but to spend her days in the slowly moving vehicle while being pregnant. But they would soon reach Edoras and then they could get settled down at last. She had already told him she would not travel in another carriage ever again – in fact, she had also told him she was planning to set fire on the vehicle and burn it in the courtyard of Meduseld.

Her expression changed when she gazed around herself. Now she looked very serious and her eyes were wide; he could only imagine how strange she felt to be here again.

"It looks exactly the same. I feel like I never even left", she said softly, leaning closer to him. She looked up at him with a smile, "It's good to be back."

"Aye. But let's just hope things will be a little less insane from now on", he said and kissed her quickly. Then he gave her a gentle push, "Get inside, wife. You have no business standing about in the rain – and I think three someones are dying to greet you."

Lothíriel gave him a brilliant smile, and then she headed for the entrance of the Hall. For a moment, Éomer watched as she was welcomed by her friends, and he smiled at the abundance of excited squealing and hugging. When he saw Saethryd throwing her arms around Lothíriel, he was even more convinced this return had indeed been to fix many things.

The evening went by just as busily as he expected, and it was late when he was finally able to retire. Lothíriel had gone before him already, though she had been present for the supper in the hall. She had sat next to him and rarely touched her portion. Instead, she had just gazed around herself with a bittersweet expression and Éomer had known she was remembering. His mind went back too, to those early days of her exile, and the way his eyes had often searched her dark-haired head in the crowd... if someone had told him then he was looking at the woman he would marry, he would never have believed it.

He expected to find her in the bed when he arrived, and she had changed into a night shift indeed. But she was slowly pacing around the bedchamber and rubbing the small of her back as she hummed a quiet tune under her breath. Before noticing he had come, she halted and smiled to herself, and spoke loudly enough for him to hear: "Do you know where we are? You started here, sweetheart."

A peculiar sensation expanded in his chest, almost like an ache. He thought back to the journey that had brought them here, the nights they had spent talking in friendship, and then in each other's arms in the hopes of escaping the darkness of the world... how well he remembered those golden hours when she had first become his lover! And yet it had been such a desperate time, because each day war had been closer, and they had feared it would separate them for ever. But they were on their way home, and while Aldburg would always have a special place in his heart, it was now time to move forward.

Lothíriel lifted up her eyes then and noticed him. She blushed and there was that sweet, slightly confused look he rather loved.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked him accusingly.

"Long enough", he answered with a smile and crossed the space between them. She snorted softly when he kissed her, but gave into it soon enough. In quiet contentment, they both relished the knowledge all was well.

When she was seated on the bed and he was undressing, he asked her: "So, I take it you were able to catch up with your friends?"

"Yes. It doesn't seem like too much has changed between us... they dropped the 'my ladies' soon enough, and then it felt just like before. And Saethryd isn't angry with me anymore. I suppose Derehild and Aengifu have had plenty of time to persuade her", Lothíriel said and smiled slightly. Combing her fingers through her hair, she continued, "They have agreed to come with me to Edoras and act as my maids. It will be good to have them around, I think."

"Good. It's a lot to take in, especially with the baby on the way", he said, pleased that his wife would have friendly faces around her in days to come.

Lothíriel nodded and looked content with this outcome as well. Then she spoke again, "I saw Brithwen, too. She seems well."

"Aye, she rather is. I think she's much happier these days", Éomer agreed and left his boots by the chair. Running a hand through his hair, he added, "I gather she made friends with one Deormund at Cormallen. He has started working in her alehouse... I wouldn't be surprised if he's going to take over the duties of a husband some time soon."

Her eyes widened and she sat up straighter.

"Really? Are you serious?" she asked in surprise.

"Absolutely. I've visited Aldburg a few times during the summer, and I've never seen one without the other", he said and smiled fondly. Though things had not always gone smoothly with Brithwen, he was glad she was doing well.

"Well, good for her", Lothíriel said and sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. Then she looked at him again, "I take it Athilda has left Aldburg."

"She has. She never returned here after travelling to Edoras with me and confessing what she had done. As far as I know, Athilda has gone to stay with her nephew's family in the West-Mark", said the young king. He remembered that day back in the capital and Athilda's cool, loud voice as she explained to a crowd of spectators the circumstances of Lothíriel's first coming to the Golden Hall. By nightfall, those events were common knowledge in Edoras, and Éothain had reported it seemed like no one disbelieved it. As a result, Éomer was confident this tale would eventually die, especially when Lothíriel had her chance to show her new people who she truly was. They would find themselves falling in love with her, just like he had. Not to mention, his Riders who had been with him at her family's villa had done their part in giving their own accounts of the night by the beach and their new queen's bravery against pirates.

But for now, he cast these things out of his mind and joined his wife in the bed. She rolled softly into his lap and settled there, sighing quietly in contentment. When she was comfortable, she asked him: "How soon do you think we'll reach Edoras?"

"In a couple of days, I'd say. One can't know for sure when travelling with this much baggage", he said, running his fingers over her arm.

"Hmm. It's beyond frustrating, knowing we could get there in half the time. I can hardly wait for when we reach Edoras", she muttered.

"Do you think you will miss Aldburg much?" he asked her, fighting off his weariness in order to prolong this moment.

"I suppose a part of me will. These walls have witnessed some of the happiest moments of my life", she said softly, sounding like she too was on the verge of sleep.

"Mine too", he muttered and held her a bit tighter. She hemmed under her breath and sighed, and as her breathing grew calm and even, he knew she had fallen asleep. For a while, he lay there, listening to the sounds of the Hall and the quiet puffing of his beloved wife. Night had come and peaceful quiet had descended on the place he had once called his home. For once, he did not feel on the edge for what was to come, and he was not expecting for some doom to fall. It was a strange sensation, but Éomer felt he could get used to it.

He settled back more comfortably and fitted his head on the pillow. Inside these walls had passed some of the sweetest hours of his adult life, and he perceived those would always stand in shining contrast to the dark days of war in his memory. But there had been so much doubt, too, and the slow, creeping pain of knowing she was not really his to keep while her exile lasted and her father had the power over her fate. And always it had been accompanied by the fear that her secret would be discovered and she would be thrown to the wolves by the likes of Gríma Wormtongue...

Yes, it was good to be moving on, build their life in Edoras on steadier ground, and let life usher in new things. The babe she carried would surely take care of that.

And so, imagining the coming days and what would be in store for them, he soon passed into the realm of dreams.

The reunion with her Rohirric friends was as joyful as Lothíriel had hoped. She had missed them gravely – their down to earth attitude, their sense of humour, and the warmth of their friendship. Even Saethryd welcomed her back, and there lay one more moment of relief after the ways her life had twisted and turned in the course of the war.

The three looked just as excited as she felt, and they kept shooting questions at her, and a multitude of hugs was exchanged in the middle of the rather one-sided interrogation. While Éomer had provided them with an overall explanation of what had passed in south, it hadn't quenched their curiosity in the slightest. Lothíriel herself was just too happy to speak much else, besides her answers, than to tell them how glad she was to see them again.

But once they had calmed down, and found a quiet corner in the Hall to share news, Lothíriel told her friends about the past few months. And once she had told her tale, she asked tidings of Aldburg. For her friends, life had gone much like before, though they had been busy planning their moving to Edoras. Derehild and Wulfgar were getting married as soon as they were settled down in the capital, but Saethryd and Folcred had agreed to part ways as friends – the young queen did not think her friend would go lonely for long once they were in Edoras.

Then she asked them if the truth about her had caused much wonder among the townsfolk.

"It was the talk of the town for a while", Aengifu said, arranging her hair into a braid and loosening it again, "Few believed at first that a Gondorian princess had been hiding in our midst for so long. But proof was overwhelming, and we couldn't exactly ignore your brother's announcement. We did our best to let people know what really had happened and why you were here in the first place."

"I suppose there were some rather wild tales going about, but then our éoreds returned from Stoningland, and they brought such a multitude of strange tidings from the war that your and Lord Éomer's affair was soon old news. In the light of all that had happened in the south, a princess hiding in our Marshal's household seemed like a perfectly ordinary thing! Not a few seem to think it's very romantic", Saethryd added, smiling playfully as she reached to gently slap her friend's shoulder.

"And if you ask me, should you go now and ask any person's opinion, they would probably shrug and simply say it's good the land has a queen again. With a strong king steering us, and him having a wife so brave, there is a promise of peace and stability. After these past two years, that is more valuable than jewels and gold", Derehild said for her part.

Lothíriel thought about all her friends had told her. Something warm, even trustful, was spreading slowly in her chest. What a wonderful thing it was to look at future with faith and hope! Perhaps, for once, things were going to be all right. So she smiled at her friends and thought of how much she had come to love them – and how relieved she was that they still trusted her.

Another question rose then to her mind, and she inquired: "What about Athilda? How have things been after she left?"

"It was strange at first. She seemed so much like a part of this place, even if her deed had forfeited it", Aengifu said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

"Of course it was obvious she couldn't stay after what she did. Lord Éomer would never have allowed it, knowing what Athilda almost cost him", said Derehild and shook her head. She continued, "Heagyth has taken over for the time being. I guess she is going to keep the position at least until the new Marshal takes up the seat. I wouldn't be surprised if she'll continue in the future – she's very capable, and her disposition is much kinder than her predecessor's."

"They say Athilda has gone to Westfold. But after that, no tidings of her has come to us. If you ask me, she's trying to keep a low profile – everybody and their mothers know that the King is displeased with her. And now that he is new to the throne and he is expected to rearrange many things, people are not keen on getting to his bad side", said Saethryd, nodding emphatically.

"And what of you, my friends? Are you excited about moving to Edoras?" Lothíriel asked them.

"Absolutely! I can't wait to get there!" said the red-haired woman with a grin. No doubt she'd wreak havoc among the young men of the capital.

"I am glad as well. It has made my family very proud, that I will be serving with the Queen herself", Aengifu said, not as exultant as Saethryd but her eyes were warm and light.

"Who would take care of Wulfgar if I did not follow him to Edoras?" Derehild said, smiling in that faint way of hers that one might dismiss if one did not know her. "We are both looking forward to it. I think it's a good place to start over."

"Yes, I rather think it is", Lothíriel agreed and looked at her friends. Her heart swelled with warmth and love as she looked at the faces of these three, and with a tearful little smile, she continued, "I will always be grateful for what you did for me – and for accepting me even after you found out the truth. I promise I will never keep such secrets from you again."

Her friends, who had kept her company and cared for her, smiled at her. But it was Aengifu who put their thoughts into words.

"You are our friend, now and always."

Éomer was up and about early next morning, though his wife sleepily inquired whether he really needed to get out of the bed so soon. But waking up close to dawn had been a part of his routine for so long, it was not easy to break. He was eager to get to going and cover as much distance today as was possible. However, he was well aware it would be at least couple of hours before the entourage would be moving.

While the guests were slowly waking up and preparations for the day's travel were started, Éomer himself moved swiftly through the Hall, spoke with his old steward, arranged this or that thing, and made a quick visit to the stables. Now that his own life would be in Edoras, he was thinking of appointing Elfhelm's seat in Aldburg. It was a place he wouldn't trust in just anyone's hands.

But after he had talked with the master of stables and was heading back inside again, there was a voice calling for him from behind.

"Éomer King, may I have a word?"

He turned, surprised to hear this particular voice asking for his attention. Then again perhaps he should have expected it; Aldburg was Brithwen's home, and in many ways this was an ending of one era.

She stood some yards from him, smiling hopefully as she waited for him to answer. She looked to be well, much to his approval. Life had turned out all right for the Shieldmaiden.

"Of course. And do drop the title. It's not necessary between old friends", he told her and she let out a soft, throaty chuckle. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard her laugh.

"Well, everyone is talking about you like the second coming of Eorl these days, so I suppose some of it has rubbed off on me", she said humorously and stepped closer. He was glad to see how her eyes glinted and the smile that played on her face; there was happiness about her he hadn't seen before. Then, in a slightly more serious tone, she spoke again, "I figured out the morning would probably be the only time today I might have a chance to catch you. Are you going to ride out soon?"

"I would like to leave in less than an hour, but trying to move so many people hardly allows such efficiency. It will be a relief to finally reach Edoras", he said and shook his head. He was sick and tired of travelling. And to think he might have had to make several long trips to Dol Amroth just this autumn and winter! He would have to thank Imrahil again, simply for sparing him from a nervous breakdown.

"Oh, that I can imagine. Our journey from Mundburg back in May would have been torture if not for the company, and we at least were travelling much faster", Brithwen said and shook her head. Éomer hid his smile, knowing it was very specific company she was referring to. He only hoped everything would turn out all right between the Shieldmaiden and her Rider.

"How are your siblings, by the way?" he thought to ask, as he hoped to make sure all was indeed well in her life, though her expressions surely implied so.

"They are wonderful, growing up so fast I can hardly keep up. And they love Deormund very dearly. No wonder, as he's so good with them", Brithwen answered, smiling as she spoke. Eomer smiled too: she must really like this Deormund, to have already introduced him to her family. She had never given that honour to him, which probably had been for the best. At the time, he had known not to ask for it either, as he had always known he was less invested emotionally in her than she was in him. He was glad to see that relationship had now taken a much healthier form.

"That is good news, my friend", he said and reached to rest his hand on Brithwen's shoulder. She smiled as an answer, until suddenly her expression changed and became uncertain.

"So there are no hard feelings? You are not angry with me anymore?" she asked him warily.

"No, I'm not. To tell you the truth, I'm too happy right now to hold on to grudges", he admitted, making her laugh softly.

"Well, that's a relief", said the Shieldmaiden and nodded in satisfaction. She added in a softer voice, "I heard what your lady did when you crossed Mering Stream. I never believed anyone from the south could learn to understand us that well, but now I know we have a wonderful queen. I think I finally see why you are so smitten with her."

"Hmph. Everybody keeps telling me that. I don't know what's so amusing about the affair", Éomer muttered and rolled his eyes dramatically enough to have her chuckling again. He continued in a more solemn tone, "But in any case, it's good we don't have to hide anything."

"I'm glad for you both", Brithwen said warmly. Then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, and he could feel it was now only a gesture between friends, and if there had been anger and bitterness, those had been healed at last.

"I wish you well, my friend. Go and be happy", Brithwen murmured softly before she pulled back again.

"You too, Brithwen", Éomer answered, and with that, they bid each other farewell. With a wave of her hand, she turned away from him and strode for the gates of the courtyard, heading for her own home. Her siblings would be waking up soon and she would be busy preparing for the new day – feeding her family, tending to the tavern, and receiving the folk of the town as they came and went. The Shieldmaiden had a life before her she could be happy to call her own.

No doubt he would meet her at times when visiting Aldburg, and years would see a fuller friendship growing between them. But as of now, he felt like they had left things in a sound place, and regrets could be forgotten for good.

Wind cleared the skies on the day they left Aldburg, and the rest of the journey was made in beautiful weather of late summer. As they got closer to the capital, the feeling of excitement in the entourage grew also. Many in this company would still have a long way to go after Edoras, but Éomer son of Éomund was coming to the place he would make his home. ¨

It had not felt like home during the few months between his return from the Ring War and the day they had left to bring his uncle back. He guessed it was because he had been so busy all the time, and his heart had been elsewhere. No doubt he would find his days full after the guests had gone their ways, but at least he knew his thoughts would no longer be far away and looking for some distant date when all the waiting came to an end. And at last, after his life had taken such strange turns in the course of a year and a half, things were finally starting to make some sense.

The day was fair in the glory of bright sunlight as they began to close in on Edoras. He was eager to get there and show Lothíriel around – let her see Meduseld as it was supposed to be, not as the place of fear it had been when she had first come here. Of course, preparations for her arrival would not be finished yet, though he had sent a messenger from Mundburg as soon as he had learned she was coming home with him. Scýne and her ladies would have been busy in cleaning the royal chambers and the nursery, but the finishing touch would be for Lothíriel herself to make. Already he saw it in his mind's eye and the image was like a brilliant flame that lit his way.

Around him, the good cheer of his men had been rising steadily, and now they began a song of homecoming; on long, weary ways, singing was sometimes the chief amusement if vigilance was not needed. But songs were also a way of expressing themselves, like when they were glad to return to their homes, or when they roused their battle spirits. Songs of the Pelennor fields would surely echo in all their minds for a long time.

Suddenly, a bright soprano joined the song, and glancing behind himself, Éomer saw the face of his wife as she leaned out of the window of her carriage, to admire the landscape and sing with the Riders of the King's Guard. In delighted surprise he smiled: he hadn't been aware she knew this song. But perhaps her maids had taught her some time – singing was just as natural for the every day labours of the common folk as it was for the Riders. Apparently, it was so for their queen as well.

His men looked just as astonished as he felt himself, but he saw they were glad, too, and their hearts were high. This was a good day for them all.

Music halted only when they passed by the tombs of the Kings, and Éomer bowed his head to show respect to his predecessors, those kings of old whose mantle now was his to bear. But the gates of the city were open, and when he entered his capital, voices rose again around him. The streets of Edoras were more packed than normally: such companies as this one were not likely to appear again in the world of the living. For now the crowd cheered and celebrated, for their king and queen were home and memory of war and the loss of Théoden were eclipsed for this bright afternoon.

Her carriage was brought to a halt a short way from Meduseld. It had been Lothíriel's idea, as she wanted to walk the rest of the way to the Golden Hall. Usually, they would have ridden there, but he had insisted on carefulness for the sake of the baby.

Éomer himself dismounted and helped his lady from the carriage. She managed it with more grace than her recent grumblings over being clumsy would have implied, and he noted she was beautiful in her green gown and wearing late summer flowers in her hair. She cast him a beaming smile as she placed her hand on his arm, and then they began the last stretch for the Hall of the King. Firefoot followed them close by and his Riders secured their way; before them, the royal banner was carried, and the White Horse leaped in the wisps of the wind.

As they came nearer to the Hall of his forefathers, the strangest sensation grew in the chest of the young Lord of the Mark. Though the grief for his uncle and cousin was still fresh, and it would be a while before pain would turn in to a fond smile when he thought of them, in this moment there was something absolutely right. His path was open and clear before his feet, and he knew at last where he was going.

Beside him, Lothíriel walked, and he thought she had never looked more radiant as she did now. Her eyes were bright and she held herself as proudly as any queen would. And he was glad for her: at last she could walk in this land without disguises, and people would see her worth like he had seen it for so many months. She was ready for this, perhaps more than he had ever been. This woman had been made to endure, to shine, and with her by his side he felt he could lift mountains.

They reached the courtyard and the path to the steps of the Hall was lined with lords of the land and folk of the household. Youngest among them paved their way with flowers, and cheers and well-wishes welcomed them home. The young king gave a pat to the neck of his stallion, and a squire stepped to take a hold of Firefoot's reins, allowing the lord and his wife to carry on from here alone.

The stone steps of the Hall were before them and above, the twin doors were spread open. Doorwards stood in bright mail, holding their shields and spears, lining the way up to the House of the King, and they bowed their heads to the Lord and Lady of the Mark. When Éomer glanced at the woman walking by his side, her eyes were wide and her smile had made way for a serious look. And by that look, he knew the meaning of this moment for her. Today, she was entering Meduseld for the first time as the Queen of Rohan.

She saw him looking at her and once more her features grew easier. He gave her a smile, hoping to convey how proud he was of her, and she moved her hand from his arm to his fingers.

Side by side, they began to climb, heading for the twin doors of the place they would call their home. Meduseld stood inviting in the golden sunlight, proud as those had been who had first built this Hall. And now it was his and Lothíriel's turn to make it their own, to dwell in these halls and bring up their children, and share all the days of their lives. This thought, so enormous and wonderful and good, nearly had him laughing out loud.

They reached the terrace and they stood there for a moment, their backs turned towards the crowds and their guests, and their eyes looking into the Hall of the King. There sunlight played as it streamed from the great windows above the rafters, banners swayed gently with the wind that breathed in through the doors, and the air smelled of smoke and wood and wild flowers. At the far end of the feasting hall, his throne was waiting for them.

Éomer looked again at his queen and she lifted her face. Her eyes were wide again and she looked excited now instead of solemn, her cheeks flushed and light of stars shining in her gaze. His family was home at last and all was well.

"Ready?" he asked her, and she gave him a brilliant smile.

"Let's go", said Lothíriel and she held his hand tightly.

Together, they stepped into the Golden Hall.

Lothíriel's first months as the Queen of Rohan were about as overwhelming as she had expected. The departure of the funeral guests did not bring much relief to the rush of new things: each day, it seemed she was learning something she hadn't known before. Often she was too busy to miss her family too painfully; they had left with the other guests, but Father at least would be back when the child was born. Their farewells were bittersweet, but Lothíriel could tell the parting was harder for him than it was for her. After all, she had so many novel things before her, and there was so much happiness in finally living that life she had dreamed of with Éomer.

Her days passed quickly as she got to know her new home and the people of of Edoras. Her servant friends were usually with her, helping her to settle down in whatever ways they could. Though Lothíriel was rather familiar with the way of life in Rohan, at times the help of her three companions was still necessary. Often she felt their friendship was easier now, because she didn't have to keep secrets from them anymore, and altogether her own mood was lighter than it had usually been during the days of exile. And if Aengifu, Derehild and Saethryd had ever felt awkward to be in the presence of the daughter of a Gondorian prince, no trace of it remained.

There had been one meeting she had warily expected, and that was being formally introduced to her sister-in-law. Lothíriel had never forgotten that Éowyn had considered her a threat to Éomer, and for a time she had feared this would leave the White Lady antagonistic towards her – especially after Éomer's sister had witnessed her pretended betrayal. But her beloved had explained all to his sister, and he had reassured her that Éowyn bore no ill will for her. And so, though there was some awkwardness between them first, Lothíriel was relieved to notice that Éowyn seemed to be willing to at least give her a chance. But at times there was a warning in the tall woman's eyes, and the young queen knew if she ever should be so mad as to hurt the feelings of Éowyn's brother again, it would be her last mistake.

In this new phase of her life there was also certain satisfaction: finally, after such a long standstill, she was able to exercise her skills as the head of the household again, put her mind and abilities truly to use. Éomer had not forgotten her potential either, for often he asked for her opinion in this or that matter of the realm. But he didn't take her words as given – she always needed to explain her point of view and perhaps answer a series of keen questions. Even so, she was pleased when he agreed with her and pursued a solution that had stemmed from her idea. In this way, she found herself more and more involved in the ruling of the land. While it was not easy work, it was a burden they both knew would be easier to bear if it was shared. They knew they both had much to learn, but his Marshals were ever ready to aid them, and in King Elessar and Queen Arwen they had incomparable allies.

Routines of their days were both similar and different to how things had been before: some remained the same, but some were new and unexpected. Duties of the king were not the same as those of a marshal, and he was busier than ever before. Rebuilding had his hands full and often he would have to ride out, and so he travelled examining the villages and meeting with his lords, or pursuing stray bands of orcs. In Meduseld council chambers or the royal study had him tied up from the morning until late hours of the day. And Lothíriel was just as occupied by the tasks of the mistress of the Hall, managing the household and making purchases and meeting those who sought her audience with their concerns. She gave her smiles readily and spoke in Rohirric, and it seemed to her that people grew to appreciate her, if not even like her as days passed. But like before, evenings she spent together with Éomer, relishing in this moment in time when their struggles were past and life spread before them as a good, hopeful thing.

In October, Lothíriel was delivered of a tiny but healthy girl. The birth was easier than she had expected and she was relieved to see that her child had not received harm from those first, painful days of her pregnancy, or the agony she had lived through before Éomer had found her at her family's villa. When the whimpering newborn was laid on her breast and she gazed in wonder at her child, she remembered her horror at realising she had conceived. But horror was long past and she felt joy and happiness, especially when her beloved horselord finally wrestled his way into the bedchamber and saw his child.

She had never seen him weeping, but when he took his daughter in his arms and held her for the very first time, the young queen saw tears of joy on the face of her king. That was the moment she decided all her pain and suffering had been truly worth this.

Eventually, they also decided on a name. It was a few days after the childbirth, when Lothíriel was already feeling a bit stronger and she was moving about in their chambers, looking for her hairbrush.

Éomer sat by the window in the clear light of an autumn day, rocking his newborn daughter in his arms, and humming softly under his breath. She recognised the tune as a Rohirric lullaby, and she smiled; there was her husband and her child. And she loved them so much that the extent of it was almost bewildering to comprehend.

He felt her gaze on himself and the baby, and he looked up at her with a smile.

"Love... I never asked. What does Daerien mean?" he inquired suddenly, much to her surprise. This had never come up in their talks before now.

"It means something like 'shadow maiden', depending on how you interpret it", she answered and went to sit by him. The baby was asleep now, lulled to peaceful rest in her father's safe lap. The infant looked so tiny in comparison to Éomer, but he always handled her with utmost care. Just by looking at him with their daughter, she knew he would be a wonderful father, however many more children they would have in the future.

Her king looked straight at her and in his eyes, there was a usually solemn expression, especially considering how he hadn't really stopped smiling since the day their daughter had been born.

"... Nihtmæg. Do you think that is a good enough name for a Princess of the Mark?" he asked her in soft, thoughtful voice.

"It's perfect", Lothíriel simply said, and for whatever reason, her eyes filled with tears. These days, there was so much light in her life that she was sometimes overwhelmed. And she welcomed and enjoyed it fully, for she knew that this happiness would soon enough be balanced out by the challenges of ruling the kingdom and enduring new wars that were sure to come eventually.

She lay her head against the shoulder of her husband and they sat there in sunlight as the Hall around them breathed with life. Éomer kissed the top of her head and spoke again: "She's going to be the most beautiful woman in the Mark. Just like her mother."

"You are so full of nonsense", she told him with a gentle little snort, but even then, she couldn't help but lean closer and kiss him.

One night, when Nihtmæg was a few weeks old, Lothíriel startled awake from a dream. In it, she had still been Daerien and she had been tasked with scrubbing clean the floor of Éomer's Hall in Aldburg. Yet no matter hard and quick she scrubbed, there was always more to clean, and she never got to see the other side of it.

But as she sat up in her bed and saw her husband on her one side, and her daughter to the other, she remembered again what was what. She was in Meduseld, all disguises had been cast aside, and her family slept peacefully close by. Dreams of being Daerien came less often these days, chased away by the busy life of a queen and a mother. But she supposed the shy little serving maid might still make an occasional appearance, at least until Lothíriel Queen had firmly established herself and the past was left behind for good.

The timing of her waking up proved to be convenient. Nihtmæg shifted in her cradle and whimpered, but the infant did not have a chance to cry out before Lothíriel already lifted the baby into her lap. She slipped her shift open and placed the child against her breast, and sounds of a hungry child were replaced by a soft, contented noise. Sometimes, she would sing while feeding her daughter, but she didn't want to wake up her husband, who slept so deeply next to them.

Or so she thought. For when she glanced at him, she could see he was awake and watching them with half open eyes. Somehow he had not yet grown tired of this, though in the end she decided it was not so odd. The man was much softer inside than he liked to admit.

Even so, Lothíriel smiled and pointed out, "You can go back to sleep, dear heart."

"Hmm. Not yet", Éomer said and looked like he had no intention of going back to sleep. Well, he was a father for the first time, and after another child or two, he would know not to waste a chance to sleep.

She lifted her eyebrows, and his answer to her unspoken question came short and firm.

"I didn't think I'd get to see this", he simply answered as he gazed at her and Nihtmæg, who gurgled away happily, not minding the softly spoken words of her parents.

She didn't know at first what to answer to such a statement; she was well aware how relieved he still was that Father had relented after all.

"We are not going anywhere", she reassured him gently, and she would have reached for his hand hadn't she been busy with Nihtmaeg.

"Aye. Doesn't mean I won't check every now and then, though", he said, leaning his head on his arm as he looked at his wife and daughter. Between them, marriage and living together once more had not changed anything – he was the same man as before, warm and loving and reliable. But some things were new, she had noticed. There was happiness in him, too, the kind she had not perceived during the days of her exile. And the ending of secrecy was a relief for him just as well as it had been for her.

She said teasingly, "So, you're not thinking of writing to my father and demanding him to take us off of your hands?"

Éomer snorted as an answer and sat up so that he could kiss her brow.

"Who is full of nonsense now, Lady Star-eyes?" he asked dryly and silenced her additional remarks with another kiss on her lips.

When Nihtmaeg was fed, her beloved lifted the infant against his shoulder and walked around the chamber, while Lothíriel fetched herself a drink and slipped back in the bed. Now it was her turn to watch and marvel, and think of how only a year ago this image before her eyes would have been the furthest thing from her mind. Éomer hummed softly under his breath, making her wonder if anyone would even believe this warrior king had such tenderness in him. Whether this side had existed in the days before she had known him, she couldn't say. For her, it had always been, and she already knew so it would be for their daughter, too.

He placed the infant back in the cradle when she was asleep, and then Éomer returned to the side of his wife in the bed. He pulled her against himself and she settled there, sighing softly in contentment. Idly she thought of the first time she had woken up in his arms and smiled at the memory. There had been much good about those days, but she was glad to be here and now. And these days, she was finding it easier to think of Meduseld as her home, and moments came less and less often that she'd remember that horrible day when she had stood before Wormtongue, dreading for her dear life and hoping to cheat both him and her beloved.

The hour was silent still and the Hall of the King would sleep for a few hours yet. Then new day would come and new challenges; Éomer would be meeting with a few of his lords from the West-Mark, and Lothíriel would be making plans for the upcoming visit of her father. If she had time around afternoon, she was hoping to go riding with her maids, as all four of them were still getting to know their new home. And by the end of the day, he would join her and Nihtmaeg again, and hours would pass in a kind of tranquillity and trustfulness they had only dared to imagine in those last, desperate days before he had ridden away to hunt the band of uruk-hai.

"Lothíriel?" Éomer spoke suddenly, his voice soft and warm. Thoughts of past days and those still ahead fell from her mind, bringing her fully into this moment.

"Yes, love?" she asked him, keeping her voice low as to not disturb their daughter.

"I am happy", he murmured as the hold of his arms grew tighter around her. She lifted her head so that she could kiss him and then settled down again, her ear against the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"As am I", she whispered, smiling to herself. Strange was life, that such a path as hers would eventually lead to this place, to sharing her life with the king of a fierce people of horsemen. There he had stood at her door on the night of the storm... but she was content, and knew that here she could be and do much more than she had ever imagined in a life that now seemed distant and unfamiliar. The sheltered girl who had been so afraid and lonely had made way to a brave woman who shined.

Dreams beckoned her now and Lothíriel decided to follow them, letting the even sound of Éomer's breathing lull her back to sleep; she had her husband and daughter and all was well in her corner of the world.

They were home.

… some beginnings are endings and some endings become beginnings. - Capheus, "Sense8"

THE END

A/N: I hate finishing stories. Especially long ones, where you grow attached to the characters, laugh and cry with them, and watch them go through their struggles. You just want the story to go on forever, even though you know it can't. I think this is a good time to bring the tale to a close: conflicts have been resolved and our lovers are happy.

I have enjoyed writing A Long and Winding Road very much and I know I'm going to miss it. Hopefully, it has been a delightful read for you, my dear readers. I thank each and every one of you for sticking along, for favouriting the story and leaving comments. Words cannot describe how much reviews mean to me and how helpful they can be in figuring out the story.

I will continue to publish Heart of a Queen, and I also have a new story idea in the drafts that I will bring forth sooner or later. So, until my next update, thank you once more!

Tibblets - Indeed! They have struggled for so long. I hope you liked her reunion with her friends! :)

EStrunk - Thank you! I'm glad you liked those things, and I must say the smitten flirting was very fun to write!

Anon - It was long overdue indeed! They do deserve to be happy after everything that's happened. :)

coecoe11 - Oh, thank you! I'm glad if I was able to convey the moment so very well! :)

eschscholzia - It was rather necessary, after how they weren't going to be able to have a proper wedding. But you are right (and Éomer thinks so too) that she's very suited to be a queen.

sailor68 - Happy to hear that! I really enjoyed writing that scene. :) And indeed, they do deserve happiness!

Guest - Thank you! :)

Jo - I hope it was a great concert. :) Well, after how they've struggled, I had no choice but to make it work out! :D

Nerdanel - Thanks! Good to hear I've been able to make sense of my plot. And I suppose this chapter answers for how long this will be!

Wondereye - I thought so too. :)

Anon - I did think of writing such content for this chapter, but everything just felt so resolved to me already, I thought it would have unnecessarily prolonged an already finished story. Hopefully the part describing her new life at least suggests something of the sort. No doubt Lothíriel has much to learn, but on the other hand she's ready for it, too. She has all that she needs to make it work.