Eomer awoke the next morning and, with a smile on his face, reached over to Lothiriel's side of the bed to draw her into an embrace.

Much to his confusion, her side of the bed was cold and very obviously Lothiriel-less.

Grumbling, irritated with his wife's disappearance, he rose and pulled his own clothes on, before noticing a scrap of paper lying on top of the tiny table in the corner of the room. Crossing the room, he picked it up and recognized Lothiriel's hand writing immediately.

I hope you find this before you start storming up and down the halls looking for me. I have gone for a walk about the garden with Eowyn and then will probably be in the Hall catching up with Faramir. I thought of waking you, a'melamin, but you looked so peaceful that I could not bear to do it. No doubt I shall see you soon after you find this (or if you never found it, when you begin storming about the halls).

I hope you have rested well, my King, for I know that I have with you finally back beside me.

Ever thine,

Lothiriel

Eomer's lips tugged up in a smile.

It was good to be home.

oOo

Over the course of the next two weeks, Edoras fell back into a comfortable rhythm. Spring had come, and the crops were growing heartily and well, much like the people who tilled them. Weddings occurred nearly every week (and in some cases, every few days.) Eofor finally married his betrothed, one of Frea's many sisters became betrothed herself, and Gamling's wife announced her third pregnancy before the month was out.

Yes, the city was blooming.

No bloom was more anticipated than that of Eomer and Lothiriel's child and future heir to the throne of Rohan (if the child was indeed a boy, though Legolas seemed convinced that it was, and Lothiriel thought it prudent not to dispute the word of an Elf). Lothiriel thought she would go mad under all the intense scrutiny she was receiving; Eowyn fretted, always ready with a pillow or mug of water, Faramir pampered, overly indulgent even when she was in her grouchiest state and staying longer than he had originally planned, Gimli retold story after story, and Eomer, well…

Eomer was silliest of all, scarcely letting her out of his sight. He would delay council meetings for hours, content to keep her in their bedroom, running his hands over her stomach. When she was away from him, she was surrounded by at least three people at all times.

Legolas was the only one to maintain his head, and watched the others' antics with an amused expression on his face.

"Ah, mellonamin," he said soothingly, when Lothiriel became so flustered that she had locked herself in a closet for a few hours, if only to have a moment to herself, "they do it out of love. And if you think it is bad now, imagine what they shall be like when the child is born?"

Lothiriel decided she rather loathed all of them at the moment.

oOo

Finally, after much glaring and demanding on her part, they all relaxed.

"This child will come when he decides to," Lothiriel said, giving each of her friends, and most especially her husband, an evil look, "and it will do him no good to have a half-mad mother when he does so. I am with child, not dying of a deadly disease. Give me some peace!"

They all exchanged guilty looks, apologized in some shape or form, and Lothiriel noticed with relief that she was not watched like a hawk whenever she rose or sat by the fire too long (though Eomer was rather put out with her; what else could he do except guarantee her safety?)

But eventually, she grew tired of her self-imposed isolation, and begged Faramir to read her a favorite story of hers from her childhood.

"…and he said, 'did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.'"

Lothiriel and Eowyn gave little sighs, both sitting casually on a bench. Faramir sat across from them, a small smile on his lips. Lothiriel was aware of the looks passing between her cousin and her friend and stifled a giggle.

"Fara, you have always read this passage well, but I do believe this may be your finest reading yet." Lothiriel said as Faramir paused to take a gulp of water. A light blush filled his face.

"It helps when one has inspiration, Thiri." Faramir murmured, his eyes locked with his wife's. Lothiriel grinned as Eowyn's face flushed.

"Ah, the joys of young love." Gimli chortled from his customary seat nearest the fire. "I remember the first time I was in love…Raena, she was called, and a prettier Dwarf maiden there has never been…"

"Did she have a beard?" Eowyn teased. Gimli gave a flustered harrumph.

"She most certainly did not! She had hair as fair as yours, Eowyn, and eyes like the sky after a storm…" His voice trailed off. Legolas' hand came down on the dwarf's shoulder and the two shared a look.

"What happened to her, Gimli?" Lothiriel asked softly. Gimli cleared his throat.

"She married another."

There was a tense silence. Lothiriel met Legolas' eyes and knew someone must say something. "Well," she began, "perhaps that explains your great love for Lady Galadriel. She is most beautiful as well, and far fairer than I…and 'eyes that shine like stars', if I remember what you told me correctly, dear Gimli."

Gimli gave a roaring laugh. "Are you accusing me of having a preference for a certain type of woman, Lothiriel?"

Lothiriel grinned. "Perhaps."

"I do not think you should be so quick to assume, mellonamin." Legolas said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Gimli has often enough sung your praises—"

"And I suppose you would make me out to be the only one doing so! Impudent Elf—"

"Lothiriel," Faramir smoothly interrupted, in a subtle attempt to head off yet another argument between Elf and Dwarf, "have you and Eomer decided on a name for my future niece or nephew?"

"Clearly they plan on naming him after me." Eothain snorted as he walked in the room. Lothiriel shot him wiry grin.

"And on whose authority do you have that information, dear Eothain?"

"It is simply obvious, my Queen. I am well-known as the favorite of both you and your charming husband, and, as the future King of Rohan, it would only make sense for him to have a good, strong, Rohirric name like my own."

"Ah," Gimli began, shaking a finger in Eothain's direction, "but what if the wee bairn is a girl?"

Eothain looked dumbfounded for a minute, causing Lothiriel to burst forth in laughter. "Yes, what will we do if my child is a girl, Eothain? Shall we call her Eothaina?" He blushed as the rest of the room chuckled. Lothiriel patted his arm warmly. "And though I adore you, dear dear Eothain, I am not sure I could handle both you and a namesake at the same time."

Eothain gave her a look of mock insult. "He would be the most well-behaved child in all of history!" The entire room made various noises of disbelief, to which Eothain grinned. "Alright, perhaps not in all of history….but enough with the suspense, my Queen! Have you a name, or has Eomer delayed in deciding, as usual?"

"As usual?" Eomer asked, his sudden appearance causing Eothain to jump, "I find it funny that I am being blamed for lateness, especially coming from the rider who showed up three hours late to his own sister's wedding—"

"My horse's saddle had been misplaced!" Eothain defended. Lothiriel scarcely stifled a giggle and Eomer shot her a wink before sitting down beside her.

"As I recall, it had less to do with a saddle and more to do with a rather-friendly farm girl…" Eomer continued, earning desperate shushing motions from Eothain while the rest of the room roared with laughter at his expense.

"Fantastic," groaned Eothain, "really decent of you, my lord, now there is no chance me having a namesake anytime soon."

Eomer looked at Lothiriel in confusion, who smirked. "Eothain is under the impression that we will be naming our son after him."

Eothain shrugged and gave Eomer a simpering look. Eomer shook his head, laughing.

"And have to live with Amrothos' whining for the rest of my days? I would rather cut off my own ears."

"You are naming your child after Amrothos?" Eowyn asked incredulously.

"Ah," Lothiriel said, grinning widely, "he did not say that."

"Thiri, please, this is a long riddle, even for you." Faramir groaned.

Lothiriel turned to her husband, her smile growing even wider. "Shall you tell them, or shall I?"

Eomer groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. "Spare me."

"Oh, come now a'melamin," Lothiriel said, leaning close, "you did agree to it, after all."

"Only after much coaxing." He conceded. She rolled her eyes and rewarded him with a kiss, oblivious to the groans of the room.

"Mellonamin, lle tela?" Legolas asked. Lothiriel sighed.

"Oh I suppose so." She gave him a warm smile. "Eomer?"

Eomer shot her a dark look, to which she responded with an innocent smile. Grumbling, he said, "If the child is indeed a boy, we decided upon—"Eomer stopped abruptly as Lothiriel's hand suddenly clamped down on his wrist.

"That's just cruel!" Eothain cried. "You cannot just stop NOW—"

"Eothain," Eowyn hissed, "do shut up."

"Thiri?" Eomer's voice was pinched with fear. Her hand fluttered under his once, twice.

"Lothiriel—" Faramir began worriedly.

"I-I am fine." She managed to stutter out, a weak smile on her face. "It seems our child is determined to make their own rules about everything, including when they will arrive." She touched Eomer's cheek gently with her hand as his eyes widened. The men in the room went stark white as Eowyn called for the serving girls. Lothiriel managed a laugh at their horrified expressions. The serving girls swarmed the room, helping her to her feet and together with Eowyn they exited. Eomer attempted to follow them but was held back by Eothain's hand on his shoulder.

"Let her go, my lord." Eothain said softly.

"You cannot be serious." Eomer growled. "She will wan—"

"Believe me," Gimli managed to chortle, "it will not before long before she begins cursing anything and everything to do with you, Eomer. It is best to remain out of range of projectiles."

oOo

Eomer paced back and forth, back and forth.

For Bema's sake, how long must it take!

A girl scurried out of the room, giving him a slight shake of her head as she passed. He resisted the urge to throw a punch at the wall.

"If you keep walking like that, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet." quipped Eothain.

"Aye," said Gimli, "sit before your legs give out."

Grumbling, Eomer sat on the bench. Legolas appeared with a mug of ale in hand, and passed it to him wordlessly. They sat in silence for a moment. Eomer was straining to hear any noise that may have been coming from behind the closed door when Legolas spoke.

"She is strong. You need not fear for her."

Eomer's lips twitched. "Do you know much of childbirth, Master Elf?"

Legolas fixed him with a cold look, and Eomer was reminded quite suddenly that the creature before him was neither as human nor as young as he looked.

"When you have lived as long as I," Legolas said, "you can know much of many things, Eomer-King. I know the difference between women who will wilt under the prick of pain and those who can withstand more than many men, all with a smile on their face. Tell me, which does Lothiriel strike you more as?"

Eomer prickled. "I know my wife, Elf. Do not lecture me on her character or her strength."

"And yet you still fear. Why doubt her?"

"It is not her I doubt!" Eomer spat. "I cannot…if she were to …if anything were to…"

Realization dawned on Legolas. Eomer did not doubt Lothiriel's strength but rather his own, were something to happen to her.

To love someone so much…

And of all the things the Prince of Mirkwood knew, that was still one experience that eluded him. To be sure, he loved Estel and Arwen and the Hobbits and Gandalf, not to mention his own family and Gimli and Lothiriel herself…but the all-encompassing, heart-wrenching love reserved for one being alone still remained out of his grasp. He clasped Eomer's shoulder.

"Forgive me." He said. "I did not understand."

Eomer was silent again for a moment before giving a nod. The room was soundless for a long while, with naught but the quiet crackling of the fire in the background. There was a sudden cry from the next room, causing men, Elf, and Dwarf alike to jump. Eomer rose as if to go in, but was stopped by yet another serving girl exiting the room.

"Oh no, my lord!" She said anxiously. "You cannot go in just yet, I am sorry."

Eomer opened his mouth to order her out of the way, when Lothiriel's voice was heard clearly; "I will…kill…that man! He is never…touching…me…again!" There was a stream of curses, in both Rohirric and Elvish, followed by a few stifled giggles from the other room. The girl blushed as the men (besides Eomer) roared with laughter.

"You had best hope it is a son, Eomer," Eothain laughed, "as it sounds like that you will not be getting another chance."

Eomer glared at him and the girl scurried past them, being sure to close the door as she went. Slowly, as it became obvious they would still be waiting a while, they eventually returned to their previously assumed seats. Faramir gave a sudden chuckle and Eomer eyed him warily.

"What are you laughing at?"

Faramir turned to his brother-in-law, a smile still on his lips. "I was just remembering something Lothiriel said as a child…"

"Lothiriel? Lothiriel, where have you wandered off to?"

Faramir turned the corner of the long shelf of books. At twenty-nine, he was an accomplished ranger, capable of following a trail that had been dead for weeks, easily finding animals and bandits only by the tell-tale cracking of miniscule branches…and yet his thirteen year old cousin could evade him with ease. She had begged him to read with her in the library ("Like we used to in old times, Fara! When I was still small enough to need help with the words and you were not so solemn.") and he had (as always) been unable to refuse her. Finally, he saw her, curled up in one of the many chairs, her face buried in a book. He cleared his throat and she jumped, her face flaming.

"Something the matter?"

"N-no!" She slammed the dusty tome closed and attempted to hide it under the large pile of books beside her. "Just a new book."

"A new book, eh? It does not look very new…" Ignoring the look of horror on her face, Faramir extracted said book from where it had been placed. His own face flooded with color as he recognized the cover. Melwen of Osgiliath was a notorious female author, infamous for her rather…colorful descriptions of what happened in a marriage bed (and occasionally out of one). "Where did you get this?"

"I-I found it." Lothiriel said guiltily. "Boromir had given it to Erchirion a few years ago, and the cover had always intrigued me…"

Faramir made a mental note to murder his elder brother before putting the book aside to give his cousin a cautious look. Her cheeks were flushed pink, but she looked him in the eye.

"Fara," she murmured quietly, "is this…book…accurate?"

Faramir groaned and hid his face in his hands. Why him? Why oh why…but then he looked at her again, and saw the girl she had been and the woman she would become…and no matter what, she would always be his Thiri, his dear, sweet girl who tried so hard and loved so much…and he knew that he would have to be honest with her.

"I would not say completely accurate…but for the most part, yes, it is."

She gulped. "So…Amrothos has been lying to me?"

Amrothos…Valar only knew what he had been filling his sister's head with…

"What has Amrothos told you?"

Lothiriel turned even pinker, if that was possible. "That babes come from a stork and much praying. Though, after reading this, Lady Melwen's explanation makes much more sense…"

Faramir laughed and rubbed his eyes. Unless he had been jesting, it would seem that poor Amrothos was even worse off than Lothiriel.

"Well," he began carefully, "as amusing as Amrothos' version is, I am afraid Lady Melwen has the right of it…"

Eomer stared at Faramir as the older man finished his tale.

"Needless to say, Lothiriel took much pleasure in informing Amrothos about the error in his thinking…"

The King of Rohan doubled over with laughter. Faramir smiled.

"My original point of telling this tale was that Lothiriel knew what she was in for…though I suppose you will have better use for it as ammunition against Amrothos."

Eomer's laughter slowly died down and he gave Faramir a warm thump on the back. The smiles drained from both of their faces as another cry was heard from the room; this one was not accompanied by amusing words.

"You never did get around to telling us the name, laddie." Gimli said, attempting to distract the stricken looking King.

"I still vote for Eothain…"Eothain muttered from his spot on the floor. Eomer managed a slight smirk. Faramir gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Elfwine." Eomer finally said, making eye contact with Legolas. "We both owe you much, Legolas, and though it was Lothiriel's idea, should the child be a boy, I can think of no better name for my son."

Legolas was speechless for a few minutes.

"And I suppose Dwarfwine would be asking for too much?" grumbled Gimil. Eomer chuckled and Eothain was still looking between his king and the elf in apparent disbelief.

"Elfwine over Eothain? I smell the power of Lothiriel's kisses all over this decision…"

"Be quiet, peasant." Eomer growled, though his eyes smiled. "And be glad for your position as godfather."

Eothain's eyes widened. "M-me? G-godfather to the future king of Rohan? A namesake is wone thing but godfather-have you lost your bloody mind?"

"Lothiriel insisted. As most of her ideas tend to end better than mine, I see no reason to question it."

Eothain sank into a chair. "Godfather…"

"I could never thank either of you enough for this honor…"Legolas had finally found his voice.

Eomer clasped the Elf's arm. "Think of it as a debt repaid."

"Well then." Gimli harrumphed. "I will need another mug of ale to deal with the pain for being passed over for both the name and godfather duties."

Legolas rolled his eyes as Faramir and Eothain chuckled; all laughter cut off abruptly as the door to the room swung open, revealing a beaming Eowyn.

"A boy." She said, wrapping her brother in a tight embrace. "Beautiful and healthy." She had scarcely released him before he had sprinted out of the room, much to the amusement of the other occupants. Eowyn crossed the room and Faramir pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Godfather." Eothain said again dazedly.

"Elfwine, bah." Gimli teased good-naturedly. "Let us hope he does not inherit his father's blatant disregard for Dwarves…"

oOo

Lothiriel looked up from her son's face as Eomer opened the door. She looked more tired than he had ever seen her, but smiled blindingly up at him. The serving girls hurriedly removed the soiled bed-sheets, gave Eomer sharp bows, and rushed from the room, all giggling to one another. Eomer gave them no notice.

"Come and meet him, a'melamin."

He crossed the room without a second thought and sat carefully on the bed next to his wife and child. He peered down at the small bundle in Lothiriel's arms. There was a tuft of blonde hair on his head, and already he could see bits of himself in his son's face…the same nose, same curve of his cheek…but then the child's eyes fluttered open, and all he could see was Lothiriel. Grey-green eyes stared back into his, accompanied by a toothless smile.

"He looks so much like you." Lothiriel whispered quietly. Eomer turned his face to her, and was struck again by how much he loved this woman, how much had been missing from his life without her in it. He wrapped his arms around her, holding both her and their son in his embrace.

"He has your eyes." He replied and Lothiriel smiled again, looking down at their son. The family was silent for some time, content to marvel at the new life held between them. Finally, Elfwine drifted off to sleep and the couple turned their attention on each other.

"I have a question for you, wife."

"Indeed?" Her eyes were teasing. "And what would that be, my lord?"

"I believe I may have misheard something you said…" he cleared his throat, and attempted a horrible impersonation of her, "'He is never touching me again!'"

Lothiriel's cheeks pinked slightly. "Ah. That."

"Yes. That. Surely my touch isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to you…" He brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and ghosted a kiss along her jaw. She shook her head, smiling softly.

"Your son is only hours old and already you are already badgering me about another?" She chuckled and kissed him. "You are such a man."

"And proud of it. What man would not be proud, with such a beautiful wife," Lothiriel rolled her eyes and mouthed the word 'flatterer' and was promptly ignored, "and hearty son? And what man would not want brothers or sisters for his child?"

"A man who has not gone through childbirth." Lothiriel said. Eomer stared at her, and finally she burst forth in laugher, nearly waking the sleeping baby in her arms. "Oh Eomer, if I really were angry with you and did not want you to 'ever touch me again', would you be here now? No!" She cupped his cheek with her free hand and smiled up at him. "And as for more children, how could I refuse? I love having brothers, annoying and over-protective as they are, and cannot imagine only having one child, much less being able to watch our son grow up alone."

"You conveniently left out what it takes to get more children…"Eomer murmured. Lothiriel rolled her eyes.

"Vulgar horse-lord. As if I could forget! Though, that would be the one thing you are fretting about-"

"It is hardly the only thing, Thiri. You know I would never force you do anything you do not want. I suppose I could survive otherwise…"

Lothiriel gave him a sharp pinch. "Survive otherwise indeed! You are my husband and I do not intend on sharing you with anyone. Your children will be mine and mine alone."

Eomer smirked and received another jab to his side. "If you insist…"

Lothiriel silenced him with a kiss.

"Even with a babe between you, you cannot keep your hands off each other." Eowyn laughed. Lothiriel pulled away, cheeks pinking, while Eomer glared at his sister.

"Have you something to say, sister?" Eomer's voice brooked no amusement. Eowyn and Lothiriel shared a look of fond exasperation.

"I assume Lothiriel would like to sleep at some point, brother. Birthing a babe is no easy business."

Eomer's face reddened and Lothiriel rubbed his arm comfortingly. He had not even considered her own exhaustion.

"Thiri, I did not—"

"Eomer." She touched his cheek gently. "You needed to meet your son. I was not so tired that I could not manage that." She kissed her son's forehead before gingerly passing the sleeping Elfwine to Eowyn, who took the babe with utmost care. "Though now that you have, I cannot think of anything I should like to do more…"

Eowyn smiled. "As it is, Faramir would like to meet his nephew, and Legolas his near-namesake. I can watch him for the time being while you rest, dearest."

Lothiriel gave her a soft smile. "Wake me if he cries."

Eowyn pressed a kiss to her friend's forehead and gave her brother a wink before leaving the room. Eomer rose to leave, but Lothiriel's hand tightened on his arm. "And where do you think you are going, horse-master?"

"Away, so you can sleep."

Lothiriel managed a tiny eye roll, and pulled weakly on his arm. "Do you not know by now that I always sleep better when you are by my side?"

Eomer chuckled. "Yet another thing we can agree on, wife." He pulled off his boots and lay down beside her. She pulled his arm around her and nestled into his side with a contented sigh.

"I hope we will always be this happy. Even when we are old and grey and Elfwine is grown." She whispered a few moments later. Eomer's lips twitched up into a smile, and he kissed her forehead.

"Do you remember what I told you on our wedding day?"

Lothiriel raised her head to look into his eyes.

"Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours."

"I meant those words, Lothiriel, and no matter where or when or how our story ends, I intend to keep them."

Lothiriel smiled at him. "As do I, a'melamin. As do I."

oOo

"I will kill him!"

Lothiriel looked up with a smile as her eldest stormed into she and Eomer's bedroom. It still seemed to her that it was only yesterday that he was a babe in swaddling clothes, but Elfwine stood before her now, eighteen years old, utterly a man and his father's son with her own grey-green eyes.

"Elfwine, darling, how many times must I remind you that you cannot kill the Crown Prince of Gondor?"

Elfwine scowled at his mother.

"But Mother, I caught him kissing Théodwyn!"

Lothiriel stifled a chuckle. Théodwyn, their eldest daughter at sixteen, was very much her mother's daughter in both looks and attitude. She was kind, but had her father's temper and her mother's out-spokenness. From the very moment she had met Eldarion when the two were children, Arwen and Lothiriel had predicted their marriage.

"Théodwyn is old enough to handle herself. If she did not want Eldarion's kisses, she would not have them."

Elfwine's face reddened, and Lothiriel braced herself for a long argument, when a distraction arrived in the form of her other four children and her husband.

(Unlike Arwen and Aragorn, who had stopped at four themselves, or Faramir and Eowyn who only had Elboron and sweet Gilraen, she and Eomer had six children, beaten only by Sam and Rose Gamgee's huge brood.)

"Ma!" Cried Aearion, who at two was the youngest of their children. Eomer set him down and the boy eagerly toddled towards his mother, who scooped him up and covered his face in kisses.

"Lothiriel," Eomer said in distinctly unhappy voice, "would you care to know what your sons have been up to this afternoon?"

"How is that they are always my sons when they are in trouble?" Lothiriel laughed, tucking Aearion safely into her lap before looking up at her husband amusedly. "Pray continue, a'melamin."

Theodred and Theoden, aged eight and six respectively, twisted their toes anxiously on the floor. Theodred was nearly Amrothos in miniature, though his eyes could only have come from Eomer, and he shared his father's same perchance with horses. Theoden was Lothieriel's golden Rohirric boy, with no trace of Gondor in his features, save for his adoration of books over battles. Theodred often caused trouble, and poor Theoden was more often than not merely along for the ride, typically innocent of his brother's schemes.

"They have been putting mud in the princesses' shoes."

Lothiriel hid her smile behind Aearion's blonde head. Arwen and Aragorn's daughters, though well-behaved in front of adults, were known to be little hellions when encountered with her sons. She suspected Theodred and Theoden's attacks were not entirely unprovoked, but that could not play into her punishment now.

"Boys, they are our guests. You cannot put mud in their shoes; they are royalty, same as you."

"But Nellethiel put a frog in my bed!" Theodred protested.

"Theodred, you did call her empty-headed…"Theoden mumbled softly.

Eomer groaned and Theodred received a sharp smack on the head from his sister, Anariel. Anariel was a blend of her parents, with golden hair but her mother's coloring; however in temperament, all agreed that she took after Eowyn to a frightening degree.

"You stupid!" Anariel cried, "Nellethiel is far smarter than you—"

"You're just saying that because you want Eldarion to like you, even though everyone knows he likes Theodwyn best!" Theodred yelled. Anariel turned bright pink.

"I do not!"

"Oh bloody hell, not both of them." Elfwine groaned.

"Hell?" asked Aearion.

Elfwine received a smack on his head from Eomer for that, while Lothiriel merely sighed and stood, shifting Aearion to her hip.

"Anariel, apologize to your brother for hitting him, there was no cause."

"But-!"

"Anariel," growled Eomer, "do as your mother says."

Anariel scowled, looking so much like Eomer in that moment Lothiriel had to choke back a laugh, but finally gave in. "Sorry Theodred."

Theodred nodded, looking far too pleased with himself, until Lothiriel directed her attention to him.

"You, young man, are to go to your room. You shall not ride today, and if there is any more trouble you shall share a room with Aearion tonight, as babies, not young men, put mud in the shoes of princesses. Is that understood?"

Theodred, with a quavering lip, nodded. Lothiriel sighed and kissed the top of his head. She was rewarded with a tremulous smile, and gave him a light pat to send him on his way. Theoden looked up at her, eyes wide and innocent.

"And what shall we do with Theoden, Eomer?"

Eomer gave his wife a slight smirk. "I think he should escape punishment…but only if he promises to try to restrain his brother from such foolish antics in the future."

"I will I will!" Theoden said, his head bobbing eagerly. "I do not think the princesses are empty-headed, Theodred only said so because he likes Nellethiel…"

Lothiriel smiled. "Then your brother takes after Uncle Amrothos in more ways than one. You are excused, darling, go and finish that book Uncle Faramir send you."

Theoden beamed and gave her a quick hug around the waist before sprinting out the door. Anariel and Elfwine remained, still sulking where they stood.

"Anariel," Lothiriel began, only to be cut off by her daughter dissolving into tears. Eomer stifled yet another groan, Elfwine looked mortified, and Aearion began to tear up as well in distress. Quickly passing Aearion to Eomer's outstretched arms, the men were shooed from the room. Lothiriel pulled her child to her and tried to soothe her tears. "Ana, my sweet Ana, what is troubling you?"

"T-Theodwyn gets everything." Anariel managed to sob out. "I-it's just n-not fair. She's the oldest and prettiest and she's smarter than I am and she'll marry Eldarion and become Queen of Gondor and I'll just be—"

"Just be what?" Lothiriel asked. "A princess of Rohan? A beloved sister, a precious daughter? Anariel, you are eleven. Love, beauty, your own Prince Charming; it will all come to you in time. Though, you are already lovely as it is, and I know for a fact half of the stable boys are in love with you, not Theodwyn. She is too intimidating and out-spoken for them." She brushed tears from her daughter's eyes.

Anariel managed a slight smile. "She is rather pushy."

Lothiriel laughed and kissed her forehead. "Now, go help Theoden read that book of his. You know he is not so skilled in his Elvish as you."

Anariel nodded, walking as gracefully as her eleven year old legs could manage from the room. Lothiriel followed her, and found Eomer in the hallway, alone.

"I sent Elfwine to take Aearion to the Hall; your father has hardly spent any time with him."

Lothiriel smiled and moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest. They had been married for nearly twenty years now, twenty years of peace and children and laughter and joy, though not entirely without pain and fear and battles, paled in comparison to the War of the Ring. Eomer's hair was beginning to grey, and Lothiriel expected to find the lighter hue in her own dark hair any day now.

Six children will do that to you.

While they had aged, their love had not. She still loved him as much as she did the day she married him, and Eothain (who had finally married ten years past and had children of their own) remarked often and loudly that they would likely have children and grandchildren of the same age if they kept up the way they had.

Eomer interrupted his wife's musings. "I believe Eldarion will ask me for Theodwyn's hand soon."

"Are you surprised? They've always been drawn to each other…"

"Still." Eomer's voice was pinched. "Sixteen is too young."

Lothiriel sighed and tilted her head back to look up at him. "Do you recall the last time you delayed a wedding?"

Eomer gave her a glare. "I would hardly call being unconscious for multiple days 'delaying a wedding', Lothiriel—"

"Not our wedding," Lothiriel said exasperatedly, "Eowyn and Faramir's, stubborn horse-master."

Eomer chuckled. "If I recall correctly, it was that delay that gained us our first kiss."

"Gained? As I recall, you took it."

"And I shall take one again."

He leaned down and covered her mouth with his, ignoring her soft laughter.

They broke apart reluctantly as cries of "Theodred, look what you did!" and "It was an accident, not my fault you had your nose in a book—" and "Elfwine, put your sword away—Eldarion, don't encourage him—you're going to hack each other to bits!" reached them.

"Your children." Eomer grumbled.

"As I recall, you had a hand in their creation, my lord."

Eomer smirked, and pulled her back to him. "Perhaps you'd care to remind me again, wife?"

"Twenty years and still as randy as a bridegroom!"Eothain hooted as he came around the corner.

"Begone peasant; go and keep your godson from killing the only male heir of Minas Tirith." Eomer said. Laughing Eothain passed them.

"We really should go to them; Bema forbid Anariel try strangling Theodred, who is supposed to be in his room, again…"

Lothiriel turned to go but was stopped again by Eomer's arms pulling her back against him.

"Have I told you how much I love you today, Thiri?"

"Yes, but I should always hear it; it is my second favorite thing you've ever said."

"And what is the first?"

No matter how many times they had bantered this same phrasing, Lothiriel never tired of it. She smiled, and kissed her husband before murmuring, "Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours."

Eomer smiled back and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Together the King and Queen of Rohan walked into the Great Hall, letting the door slowly drift shut behind them.

~FIN~

Author's Note: Okay guys, this is the end.

Firstly, I would like to beg y'alls forgiveness for the horrible gap between this chapter and the previous one; Senior Year is HELL and I have had NO TIME at all to write. And my muse had deserted me once more. But, it came back, and this baby was born (ahaha Elfwine reference, I crack myself up.)

Secondly, I cannot thank all of yall enough for your continued support of this story. 119 reviews, a bunch of favorites and story alerts; it overwhelms me, it really does. I've re-read this story quite a few times actually, and it's crazy to see how much my writing has changed over the course of it. The beginning really is quite shoddy (so much so I've actually considered going back and re-writing it), but the back chapters, especially this one, I'm very happy with.

So, as I've said, this is the end. I was originally going to break it up into two chapters, one being an epilogue, but then it wasn't long enough so I just smooshed them together. I giggled so much while writing this, just because of all the torment I put poor Eomer through. Really wish I could have fit in one last dose of Merry and Pippin, but it didn't work out.

Elfwine (who is very close to his godfather and his honorary namesake-ee) was just too precious in my mind to remain an only child for long. Theodwyn, named after Eomer's mother is second, Anariel (which means 'of the sun') is third, then Theodred the troublemaker, Theoden, possibly the sweetest child born, and then little Aearion (which means 'son of the sea'). I may or may not write more about them, but no promises.

Again, thank you for following me on this journey. It truly has been a pleasure to write this story and get all the lovely feedback on it.

For those of you interested, my next story will either be another variation of the Lothiriel/Eomer story (which will be completely unrelated to ET, EM, EO), or a Harry Potter story.

Thank you all for your support and I hope you've enjoyed it,

The-mighty-pen325