A/N: Here you go - the final chapter. Hope it satisfactorily concludes this little tale. If you haven't read Jane Austen's story, I encourage you to do so, or at least rent the movie (the Amanda Root/Ciaran Hinds version; I don't care for the newer one they've just done). And, if you're curious, I'm presently working on YET ANOTHER Eomer and Lothiriel story. For the moment it is going well, so if that continues, you should see it by mid-Feb. at the latest. It actually is a continuation of the oneshot I did called "Storms".

Many thanks to all who reviewed. Reviews keep writers going, and at least for me, story ideas/suggestions are always welcome. Who knows what they might inspire!

Chapter 4 (Minas Tirith, early Nov, 3019 III)

"Lady Lothiriel?"

She shook herself from her reverie to look at her companion. "I am sorry, my lord. Did you say something? I let my mind wander," she apologized.

Angcam smiled tolerantly at the girl, and repeated, "I was asking if perhaps you were ready for a bite to eat? The inn just ahead has excellent food."

"Of course, Lord Angcam. As you wish," she answered, not meeting his gaze.

They walked in silence to their destination, though Lothiriel's thoughts were not particularly on her companion, but rather on someone who would soon arrive in the White City. Faramir was due to wed Eowyn of Rohan within a sennight, and the wedding party from Edoras would be here in the next day or so. She had neither seen nor heard anything of Eomer since they left Edoras after Theoden's funeral, which was to be expected. He was much occupied with his kingdom, and concern for Linsul, who had been injured while visiting. Amrothos, who had remained to help as he could, would finally be returning home in company with the wedding entourage.

Ivriniel had wasted no time upon their arrival in Dol Amroth in arranging another marriage prospect for Lothiriel. She was of the firm opinion that young ladies should be married before they turned one and twenty years, and Lothiriel was very near doing so. The new prospect, Lord Angcam of Edhellond, was nearly twenty years Lothiriel's senior, but eminently suitable. His first wife had died in childbirth, and the baby was lost as well, leaving him without a wife or heir. Lothiriel was young and strong, and should be able to readily produce him a son or two. Of more interest to Angcam, however, though Lothiriel did not know it, and he had largely kept it concealed from her family as well, was the likelihood of advantageous trade agreements that would come to him as the result of this alliance. As Imrahil's son-by-law, he would have considerably more influence, and could readily sway things to materially benefit himself.

While Angcam was amiable enough, and expressed all the correct opinions, he made Lothiriel slightly uneasy. She knew she was expected to accept his attention to her, as he was a most eligible and worthy suitor, and yet she was not comfortable with the notion of accepting someone who was old enough to be her father. And there was something…too smooth about his utterances. She didn't entirely trust the man or his motives, despite all appearances.

Still, she had little choice if Angcam offered for her. Her father also seemed agreeable to the match, and women of Gondor were not particularly permitted an opinion in such things. It was presumed a father knew best to whom his daughter might be entrusted, and naturally it should involve an alliance of advantage on both sides.

As it was a pleasant autumn day, they elected to dine outside, and Lothiriel permitted her gaze to wander the vicinity as Angcam rambled on about his various businesses. He spoke of little else, and she couldn't quite fathom why he believed such was appropriate courtship discourse, unless he thought she was impressed by his business acumen.

Their food had just been delivered when Lothiriel heard a familiar tongue spoken. "My lord, is not that Lady Lothiriel, Prince Imrahil's daughter?" Though she did not fully understand the language, she recognized enough words to involuntarily turn to see who spoke and found herself looking into Eomer's eyes. He stood a short distance from them with two guards at his side, one of which had commented, and was gesturing toward her.

Lothiriel's throat went suddenly dry. She had known she could not avoid seeing him during the wedding festivities, but this was not how she had anticipated getting that first glimpse. Beside her, Angcam had also noticed the fair-haired men watching them and asked quietly, "Who is that, my lady? Surely that is not...the king!"

She nodded mutely, then managed to say, "It is."

Rising instantly, Angcam instructed, "Please do introduce us, my dear! You are acquainted, are you not?"

Eomer evidently had realized the pleasantries were now unavoidable and moved toward them, though his eyes made his reluctance clear, if only to Lothiriel. Standing, she gave a curtsy and said, "My lord Eomer. It is good to see you again. Please permit me to introduce...Lord Angcam of Edhellond. Lord Angcam, this is Eomer, King of Rohan." She could not quite bring herself to mention her own connection to Angcam, though the way Eomer's eyes narrowed, she thought he must surely suspect.

"It is a very great honor to meet you, King Eomer," Angcam gushed enthusiastically, and Eomer gave him a polite smile in response. "You are here for your sister's wedding, I understand. I shall be in attendance, escorting Lady Lothiriel of course, so we shall meet again."

He glanced down at the girl beside him, and then added hastily, "May we invite you to join us for dinner?" He waved a hand toward their meal, but Eomer shook his head.

"I have business elsewhere just now, but I thank you for the invitation," Eomer replied curtly, then gave another nod to them both. "Please excuse me."

As he moved away, Angcam called to him, "But of course, your Majesty! A very great pleasure to meet you!"

Only once Eomer was out of sight did Lothiriel feel the tension that had seized her begin to seep away.

How was she ever going to manage to get through this next week or more? They would be thrown together far too often for her to bear it. She had thought she could reconcile herself to accepting Angcam, but this brief encounter with Eomer persuaded her otherwise. She did not love this man sitting with her, and no matter her duty, she could not give herself to him, regardless of what her aunt or father said on the subject.

For his part, Angcam was babbling away, excitedly replaying the meeting with Rohan's most prominent citizen, and seemed completely unaware of his companion's discomfiture. A public inn was not the place for such a discussion; Lothiriel would have to wait to make clear her refusal of further courting.

xxx

Eomer agitatedly paced his chambers, not even entirely sure what had him on edge. No, that wasn't true; he knew very well what had set him off. It was seeing Lothiriel with that man, and knowing full well the meaning behind it. She had not acknowledged him as her betrothed, but the gossip of the servants left no doubt in his mind that such would soon be the case, if it wasn't already. The two had been much seen in one another's company, and in Gondor that almost inevitably meant a betrothal existed. One servant had even mentioned overhearing Lady Ivriniel crowing over the coup of securing such a partner for her niece! It was intolerable!

He flung himself into a chair, scowling at the floor. It…it was...crushing. Could she love this man? Could her heart have turned from him? There had been times at Edoras when he imagined he had seen her gazing longingly at him. He had been too angry with her to pay attention, believing any torment she suffered to be well deserved, but more and more he was convinced she had simply been young and impressionable. And that she now regretted refusing him, not because he had become important enough to suit, but because she yet loved him. Was he mistaken about that? Was her love as much in the past as his days as Third Marshal?

He gave a growl of frustration. There was an evening of games planned tonight, and he knew he could not avoid it, though watching Lothiriel with Angcam would be torture. The very sight of her was like a knife rending his flesh, and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and renew his vows of love, previously spoken so long ago.

A knock sounded at his door, and he went to open it, seeking any distraction from his thoughts. It was Eowyn, and she eyed him curiously for his disagreeable expression, as she followed him into the room and closed the door behind them. "What has you so out of sorts, brother?" she asked.

"Nothing!" he snapped. "I am just in a bad mood. A man is allowed that now and then, particularly when he is king!"

Eowyn crossed her arms and studied him appraisingly for several moments, then said, "Speak to me, Eomer. This is not like you. You have always been plain-spoken…until now."

He scowled and turned away from her, going to stare from the balcony window down over the city. At length, he shrugged and murmured, "It is nothing. Pay me no mind. I will recover my good humor soon enough."

He knew it was an insincere promise, and Eowyn's expression suggested she did also, but she said nothing further. Instead, she moved to slip her arms around his waist and press her face to his back. "I would not see you in such distress. How can I be happy when you are not?" she asked softly.

"Be happy!" he insisted, turning in her arms. "I told you, it is nothing. I will try to be more cheerful. I swear it. Do not let my ill mood ruin your joy. That would only distress me more!"

She gave a sigh, and then slowly nodded. "Very well, but I will be watching you!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Now I am not only distressed, but very afraid as well!"

She slapped his arm. "Such mockery! I shall be glad to leave you and come live in Gondor with Faramir. At least he treats your sister with proper respect!"

Eomer snickered and leaned down to eye level, telling her cheekily, "Only because he is terrified what you will do with that sword of yours if he does not!"

They paused for the briefest moment, and then both broke into laughter simultaneously, the tension dispelled. Eomer knew the matter was not resolved in his mind, but at least temporarily he had managed to set his unhappy thoughts aside.

xxx

"Lothiriel! This is outrageous!" Ivriniel said, sweeping down upon her in the library.

Glancing up at the irate woman, Lothiriel could guess the nature of her complaint, but refused to acknowledge it. "Of what do you speak, Aunt?" she inquired politely.

"I speak of Lord Angcam! As you very well know, girl! How dare you reject him! What on earth were you thinking? Anyone capable of thought would approve the match!" Ivriniel raged.

With a sigh, Lothiriel tried to reason with the woman. "He is very amiable to be sure, Aunt, but there is something about him that makes me uneasy. I feel as though I know him very little," she explained.

"You will come to know him!" Ivriniel snapped, as if it was the most obvious thing imaginable.

"That is not what I want!" Lothiriel retorted, and Ivriniel gasped at her audacity.

"How…you…I intend to speak to your father! You will be made to accept him! Imrahil will not allow you to behave in such a ridiculous manner!" The large woman swept out of the room just as stormily as she had entered, and Lothiriel glared after her. She would not marry Angcam, regardless of what her father said. Then biting her lower lip, her brow knit. She only hoped he would be more reasonable about this than her aunt.

xxxxx

Eomer had felt as taut as a bow string all evening, and it was giving him a headache. He had attempted to improve things with a few tankards of ale, but they were far too weak to make much of a dent, and he was still very much sober. The only bright spot, if it could be counted such, and he had been mentally debating that during most of the supper, was that he had seen little of Lothiriel. He had been surprised that Lord Angcam was not with her, but assumed the man would turn up eventually. So far as he could tell, that had not yet happened.

Indulging a couple of the ladies eyeing him hopefully, desirous of a dance, Eomer spent the next while on the dance floor, and was briefly able to put Lothiriel from his thoughts. As he took a breather, however, downing more ale to slake his thirst, he found himself confronted with Imrahil and Lothiriel. He very much suspected his friend had drawn his daughter over to greet Eomer, and that she would have much preferred keeping her distance. Too well brought up to do otherwise, she politely curtsied to him, speaking the pleasantries that were expected. A moment later, Imrahil was summoned away and the two found themselves standing awkwardly alone together.

Deciding there must be conversation, Lothiriel halfheartedly inquired, "Did you stay long at Aldburg, my lord?"

Eomer shook his head. "Only so long as to be certain Linsul was out of danger. Amrothos was good enough to watch over her recovery, and free me from it. But I was able to make good use of my time, discussing pressing matters with my Marshal who is based there."

At the mention of Amrothos, Lothiriel observed, "I have not seen Amrothos. Did he not return to Gondor with you? And Linsul as well?" She reluctantly added the last part, but thought it would be rude not to inquire after the other woman.

Eomer shrugged. "They are here – somewhere. Lately, the two spend so much time slipping away together that they are little seen at such gatherings." At her perplexed look, a sudden realization struck him. "Have you not heard? Your brother has offered for Linsul's hand, and she has accepted."

Lothiriel's eyes went wide and she gave a small gasp. "Amrothos! And Linsul! But…but I thought…" She broke off what she had been going to say and eyed him warily, but was unable to discern any bitterness on his part for the outcome. Finally, she asked, "You…you do not object to the match?"

He shrugged again. "No. Why should I? They are well suited, and I believe they will be happy. Besides, they were much together during her recovery, and had plenty of opportunity to become closely acquainted." He looked restlessly around the room, not really interested in discussing others' marital prospects when his own were so bleak. After a moment, he realized his inattention to her was rude, and stiffly asked, "You do not wish to dance, or play some chess? I do not believe I have seen you partaking of the games tonight."

Lothiriel smiled and glanced away. "Game players tend to think themselves above others in some way, but I do not see the attraction such holds. I am no chess player, my lord."

He could not restrain a grin. "No, you never were, were you?"

Her breath hitched at the remark, surprised that he remembered that about her. It was one of the very first things she had told him about herself when they originally met. Just then, Erchirion joined them, disrupting her reminisces. "Thiri, is Lord Angcam here? I have not seen him."

Without thinking, she responded, "No, he is gone out of the city on business, but he will be back tomorrow." The instant the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Eomer had tensed beside her, clearly grasping the implication of her knowing so well of Angcam's whereabouts.

With a curt bow, Eomer said, "Please excuse me. It has been a long day. I believe I will say my goodnights."

"My lord!" she exclaimed, before she could stop herself, then hastily added, "The evening is young yet. Will you not stay a while longer? Is there nothing to entice you?"

She could not help eyeing him hopefully, but he returned it with a cold look. "No, there is nothing worth my staying for. If you will excuse me." He moved away before anything else could be ventured and, fortunately, Erchirion did not seem to have noticed the odd exchange between them.

As her brother stepped away also, Lothiriel headed to the side of the room, and exited onto the patio. Rubbing fretfully at her temple, she contemplated what she had learned. Eomer was not to marry Linsul…and he was not distressed about that. Their conversation had almost been friendly until her ill-advised remark about Angcam. Could it be possible… She must find a way to let him know she was not attached, and that she had refused Angcam. True, she could not be sure that detail would interest him, but she wanted him to know all the same.

Frustratingly, Lothiriel did not find herself in Eomer's company for any length of time over the next two days, and she was chafing to find a way to pass along her news to him. At least she had not had to contend with her father's disapproval. If Ivriniel had apprised him of Lothiriel's rejection of Angcam, which surely she had, he did not mention the matter to his daughter, or give any indication of annoyance. She could only wonder what his thoughts were, but she dared not approach him to ask, and presently she was more concerned with speaking to Eomer than to her father.

Yet again, she found herself at one of the many gatherings in celebration of the pending nuptials of the Steward and Eowyn. There had been invitations to dance, but she had declined most of them, wanting to keep herself available, and not wishing for Eomer to see her in the company of other men. Consequently, she found herself on the edge of a discussion between Erchirion and a few of his friends.

"What men suffer from the fickleness of ladies!" one man sighed. "A man becomes hopelessly lost only to have the lady tear his heart out!"

The other men were nodding agreement, but Lothiriel could not help replying, "It is not men alone who suffer so. There have been many men who treated ladies in a most callous manner, and then disappeared, leaving them heartbroken and bereft."

All eyes were on her now, and one young man launched into an impassioned speech on his view, "Nay, it is the ladies who are more cruel! What man, off fighting battles or such, does not dream of his lady and her tender arms, longing to be with her and watching for it to be so at the earliest possible moment. He imagines an earlier arrival, though he knows it to be unlikely, desperate to see and hold her again. You cannot know the deep love that men bear for their ladies, and what they suffer because of it!"

Lothiriel smiled, and told him, "I do not discount the strength of yours or any other man's feelings for a woman. I believe you capable of everything great and good. The only virtue I claim for my own sex, and it is not a very enviable one so you need not covet it, is that of loving longest when all hope is lost. Men have much to take them back into the world, but we live at home, quiet and confined, and our feelings prey upon us." Her thoughts turned inward as she thought of Eomer, and she became oblivious to those around her, and the fact that Eomer was standing not far from her and had overheard her remarks.

Erchirion gave a laugh. "What would you know of such things, Thiri? You have barely been in the society of men, so you could hardly know such hopelessness as you describe."

Lothiriel dropped her gaze and murmured, "You might be surprised, brother."

Either he did not hear her, or chose not to pursue it at this moment, for Erchirion did not remark on her words, and Lothiriel gave a small smile as she excused herself. Likely she had said too much, but she had not been able to refrain from commenting on the subject being discussed, feeling she had an intimate knowledge of the topic.

Eomer watched her move away with almost a frantic expression on his face. Looking around, he spotted a servant carrying a tray of wine goblets around to offer to the guests. "You! I need paper and pen at once. Can you help me?"

The man looked startled, but nodded. "Of course, my lord. At once!" Setting the tray on a nearby table, he scurried away as Eomer agitatedly paced his small area, awaiting the man's return. As soon as he reappeared, with the requested items in hand, Eomer virtually snatched them from him, offering a hasty word of thanks before hurrying to a table and beginning to write.

The servant stood uncertainly nearby, and finally asked, "Do you have further need of me, my lord?" He had recognized Rohan's king, and thought assisting him might be more important than handing out wine.

"Yes," Eomer said absently, quickly scribbling his desperate message. "I need you to deliver this in just a moment. To the Lady Lothiriel. It is most urgent that you find her at once."

"As you wish, my lord," the servant acknowledged, stepping away to await the missive.

When it was finished, Eomer quickly reread what he had written, then carefully folded it and handed it to the waiting servant. "Thank you! Make haste, and let me know at once if you are unable to locate her," the king instructed.

With a respectful bow, the man departed, Eomer's eyes following him as the king gave a heavy sigh. This must work!

xxx

"My lady? You are the Lady Lothiriel?" A servant was gazing inquiringly at her, and Lothiriel looked up and nodded. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched with a letter in it. "Eomer King requested I deliver this to you, my lady."

Eomer had sent her a letter? "Thank you," she acknowledged, beginning to unfold the paper, and moving closer to the light coming from the feast hall so she could read its contents. It was only a letter, so why was her heart racing so fast just knowing who had sent it?

My dearest Thiri,

You pierce my soul! I was half agony, half hope as I listened to your words. Tell me not that I am too late, and that you have accepted another. My love for you is as great or more than that day three years ago when you broke my heart with your refusal. Proud and resentful I may have been, but never inconstant. I did not wish to admit my feelings before, believing myself justified in rejecting you as you had rejected me, but my heart will not be denied. It is you alone that I would have beside me as queen; it is you alone I want in my arms as my wife. I offer myself to you once more, and desperately hope you will not disappoint me a second time.

One look, one sign is all that I need to know my feelings are returned. Only then will I go to your father and ask for your hand. If there truly still remains hope in your heart, hope for us, then meet me tonight – in our usual place.

Ever yours,

Eomer

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she reread it. He still loved her; it was not too late! Her hand lowered, and the paper was crumpled in her fist as she looked frantically around. Our usual place – he was waiting for her in the Citadel garden! They had first met there, and spent most of their time together walking and talking in its seclusion. Lifting her skirts, she took off at a run, eager to see him as soon as possible and affirm her feelings were unchanged.

She skidded into the darkened garden, lit only with a few oil lamps along the path. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then she saw him, gazing out toward the Pelennor, the same pose as she had found him in many times before.

"Eomer?"

He wheeled at the sound of her voice, recognizing it instantly. For several long moments, they merely stared at one another, and then unconsciously, both began hesitantly moving forward. They came to a stop, painfully close, but still not touching, staring intently into one another's face. Ever so slowly, Eomer reached out and took her hand in his, allowing his thumb to rub gently across her knuckles. Softly, he murmured, "I tried to forget you. I thought I had, until that day I saw you again and it all came rushing back."

"I am sorry, Eomer, so very sorry! I never wanted to –"

He pressed his fingers to her lips. "Shhh! It is not necessary. You were too young then, and I asked too much. There was nothing you could do but let your aunt guide your course. I do understand that…much as I did not like it at the time!" He gave her a grin, and she could not refrain from returning it.

His hands carefully moved to tenderly cup her face, and his thumbs lightly stroked her cheeks. "Oh, my love!" he murmured. And then ever so gently his lips met hers in a long-awaited kiss. Three years ago, he had not dared be so presumptuous as to steal a kiss, despite being sorely tempted. Now, he would not be denied, and he would not let anything keep them apart.

When the kiss ended, she smiled lovingly up at him. "Where you are concerned," she whispered, "never again shall I listen to anything but my heart. Nothing will persuade me against you ever again, my dearest love, my Eomer."

Folding her in his embrace, they long stood in the moonlight, overcome with the joy of their reconciliation. Later, they walked and talked well into the night, apologizing and forgiving everything.

The next day was the wedding, and activities surrounding it kept the lovers separate and occupied, much to their chagrin. They could not keep their eyes from one another on those few occasions when in the same vicinity, but that was the most they could manage for the time being.

The marriage of Gondor's Steward was no simple matter and, between the various ceremonies required, it occupied several hours, until at last the deed was done and Faramir was enthusiastically kissing his bride. The celebratory feasting began shortly thereafter, and all in attendance were in high spirits, but still Eomer and Lothiriel could not find any opportunity to slip away together. It seemed every time either made a move toward the other, someone intervened and waylaid them.

When at last the supper was laid, they took their assigned places. After eating, various toasts were made to the new couple, each trying to outdo the previous in what was said. At length, Eomer rose, deciding it was time for the bride's brother to weigh in.

He studied the goblet of wine in his hand a moment, and then said loudly, "Friends! I am grateful that so many have come to share in this joyous occasion. I have long desired to see my sister know such happiness, and finally it is so. Rohan and Gondor have made peace, in many ways, but as for me personally, I do not believe anything might come between our lands while I live, save it be any failure on the part of Gondor's Steward to keep that blissful smile upon my sister's face." There was much laughter at this, but he added, "However, I am persuaded I have no cause for worry. And I wish them many long years of a marvelous life together." He raised his glass in tribute, and others followed suit, before everyone took a drink.

Imrahil had started to rise, to be next with a tribute, but Eomer continued on, clearly not finished, and Imrahil blinked in surprise before resuming his seat. "There is another matter I would mention at this time, though I am quite sure I am not following Gondorian protocols with my discourse. Imrahil, I have given Gondor the best the Riddermark has to offer – my sister. Will you do me a similar honor, and grant me the hand of your daughter, Lothiriel?"

There was a stunned silence, not the least from Lothiriel. She had expected Eomer to approach her father, but to do it so publicly was completely astonishing. Still, she could not be displeased. The sooner their union was approved, the better she would like it.

Imrahil slowly stood, his brow knit in confusion. "You…you wish to marry Lothiriel? What ever for, Eomer? You barely know my daughter!"

Eomer grinned in response, and answered, "I know her well enough, and I know my own mind. She has already agreed to my proposal, and I would marry her if you will allow it."

Imrahil blinked again at this additional information, and then turned to stare at his daughter. "Lothiriel? Is this true?"

Rising, Lothiriel beamed at Eomer, but told her father, "It is most definitely true, Father. I will gladly accept Eomer King, with all my heart."

Imrahil rubbed at the back of his neck, not quite sure how to proceed in such unusual circumstances, but at length he shrugged. "Very well, then. I can hardly oppose such an opportune match. You have my heartiest blessing!"

To the amusement of all, Eomer let out a loud whoop of delight, and strode over to sweep Lothiriel up into his embrace while everyone watched. As he drew back to look down at her, he glimpsed Ivriniel eyeing them triumphantly. Leaning close to Lothiriel's ear he murmured, "Your aunt has been quite the nuisance in all this. My only regret is how pleased she is made by this development!"

Now, Lothiriel laughed also, blissfully! "Aye, beloved, it is most vexing!" She stretched up to kiss him, oblivious to the crowded room, then added, "But I refuse to give you up just to spite her!"

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from her feet, twirling them in a circle as they both laughed joyously. "That is excellent news, Lothiriel, Queen of Rohan!"

Almost without noticing he was doing so, Erchirion had wandered over to stand near his cousin and the man's bride. He stared in complete bewilderment at what he was witnessing. "I…I do not understand! How did this come to be? Lothiriel is just a child!"

Eowyn grinned knowingly; her brother's earlier ill humor finally had a clear reason, though she had rather suspected this all along. She did not think Eomer remembered his occasional mentions to her of Lothiriel during the past three years, but she had always thought there was more to the tale than he was making known. Finally meeting the girl had afforded few answers to her many questions, but she had seen the way the two of them looked at one another, and she could not believe there was no feeling between them. She, too, had heard the rumors of an alliance between Angcam and Lothiriel, which coincided most noticeably with Eomer's wretched mood. Letting out a hearty laugh, Eowyn scooped up a goblet of wine and handed it to her new cousin. "What is to understand, Erchirion? They are happy, and so we should be happy for them! To their joy!" And with that, she lifted her own goblet in toast toward the newest couple, and then drank it down in one go.

THE END

1/14/08 – 1/28/08

Erglass – "lone joy"

Linsul – "wind song"

Angcam – "iron hand"

Arastel – "deer foot"

Ivriniel: Sister of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel was born in 2947 (69 in 3016). She was the eldest child of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. She had a younger sister Finduilas - wife of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor - and a younger brother Imrahil.

Theodred born 2978 (38 in 3016); died 25 Feb 3019

Eomer born 2991; 25 in 3016

Lothiriel born 2999; 17 in 3016

Theoden began to fall under influence of Grima in 3014

3018

September 19: Gandalf comes to Edoras and is refused admittance.

September 20: Gandalf has an audience with King Theoden and warns him of Saruman's treachery, but Theoden sends him away. Soon afterwards, Saruman begins to act openly in his plan to conquer Rohan.

September 23: Gandalf leaves Rohan with Shadowfax.

3019

February 25: Theoden's son Theodred is killed by Saruman's forces at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

February 27: Theoden learns of Theodred's death. Erkenbrand sends a request for reinforcements but Grima advises against it and Theoden follows his advice. Eomer leads his eored in pursuit of the Orcs against King Theoden's orders.

February 30: Eomer meets Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli and decides to aid them. On his return to Edoras, Eomer is arrested.

March 2: Theoden is freed from Grima's influence by Gandalf and decides to ride to war against Saruman.

August 7: The funeral escort arrives in Edoras.

August 10: Funeral of King Theoden. Eomer announces the betrothal of Eowyn to Faramir of Gondor.

August 14: The Fellowship leaves Edoras.