Éomer, King of Rohan, shook his head to get his still golden mane of hair away from his face and strove to hide a smile as he looked at his son, the heir to the throne of Rohan – and his queen, the mother of his son. The queen's eyes glinted angrily, as she accompanied her son into his father's study. Apparently he was in trouble of some sort, at least with his mother.
"What has happened, or rather what have you been up to now?" he asked.
Elfwine was seventeen and the very image of his father: tall, already broad shouldered and blond – and with the same devil luring in his dark eyes.
"He and Hama have been spying on the kitchen maids bathing; that's is what your son and heir has been up to; Beordlin caught them doing it." Lothíriel also had difficulty restraining her mirth as she looked into her husband's eyes, but she kept the façade.
"Is this true?" Éomer raised an eyebrow quizzically and looked at his son. The young man raised his head, which he had kept lowered under his mother's gaze, and looked straight into his father's eyes.
"Yes, father, it is true, but it was an accident, really. We did not mean to; we were just passing by, and they just happened to catch our eyes …..."
"To my knowledge, there is only a small porthole in the door?" his mother hissed.
"Aha, and you did not avert your gazes once you realised the 'accident'," Éomer ascertained, his mirth threatening to show in his voice.
Lothíriel shot her husband a look of warning, and the king continued, in the same voice as he used when talking to new recruits:
"Elfwine, this is not a way for a future King of Rohan to behave; I trust that you know that! Have I not told you to treat everybody with respect? Do not think yourself above the people, just because your title is Prince of the Mark. I will consult with my marshal and we shall think of an appropriate punishment for the both of you. In the meantime, I want you and Hama to go to the kitchen and apologise to the girls in question – and I mean now!"
Elfwine shot his father a glance, but recoiled. He did not like this at all, but he knew that once his father had made up his mind this was it. "Yes, father", he said bowing slightly to his parents and went to find his partner in crime.
Once Elfwine had left his father's study, his parents looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Oh, that boy. He really is so much like you that it is almost uncanny," Lothíriel gasped when she got her breath back.
"Yes, in this respect he most certainly is; at least he takes after his mother as far as his more intellectual skills are concerned." Éomer smiled at his wife and went over to take her in his arms; even after eighteen years of marriage the two of them still could behave like newly-weds. He kissed her smilingly "and he so knows to control his temper, must take after his mother in that respect, too."
"Oh, you big oaf" Lothíriel basked him teasingly "and he has the same talent for mischief as his father, apparently. How do you intend to punish them?"
"Just like I and Éothain were punished by Théoden when we engaged in a similar activity once; a month of stable duty will teach them a lesson – at least for a while", he added with an impish grin.
Lothíriel laughed, "Hmm, and you claim to have learned your lesson, do you? " She shook her head and left him to his work; Éomer blew a kiss at her and concentrated on his paperwork.
Elfwine stormed out of the study, headed for the doors. On his way out he passed his two year younger brother. Haldred called after him. "What happened, Elfwine? Why did mother take you to see father?" Haldred had a notion that he might know; there was only little, which could be kept a secret within the walls of Edoras.
Elfwine just passed him by and ran towards the stables. Haldred turned to his sisters Théodwyn and Ciera, who were fourteen and twins. "Do you know? What is he so angry about?"
The twins shook their heads. Although they were twins they were not identical; Théodwyn looked very much like her mother, same green eyes and dark hair whereas Ciera was blond and grey-eyed, both of them already young ladies. Haldred looked like his grandfather Imrahil; tall, slim, dark-haired and grey-eyed. The two youngest, Bronwen who was eight and who looked very much like her aunt Éowyn, and Théodred, only five and another exact copy of the king, were playing on the floor, looking at their older siblings wondering what the commotion was all about.
Imrahil had often, influenced by the good ale at Rohan, reflected that the younger generation of royalty both in Gondor, Rohan, Ithilien, and Dol Amroth thought that they were the only ones to populate Middle Earth at the rate that they had children. On one occasion Éomer had told his father-in-law and friend that considering how much fun it was making them, he could not see why they should stop, and after all, as far as Rohan was concerned, it was Imrahil's own daughter, who has promised to fill Meduseld with their children.
Imrahil had just shaken his head at that remark; Lothíriel had laughed and stated that she gave birth to her children with ease, handled them with no great difficulty and loved them very much and thus did not find it a burden.
Further Éomer had added with a sly grin that Imrahil himself had set an example for the younger generation; had he not four children himself? The rest of the company, including Aragorn and Faramir had chuckled into their goblets thinking that it was typical of Éomer to put forward such remarks.
Haldred followed his brother to the stables and found him in Greymane's stall. Greymane was the son of his father's mighty steed, Firefoot, which had borne him during the war of the Ring and which was now laid to rest with his forefathers. His father's new stallion, Wingfoot, stood in the next stall and snorted softly when he saw the boys.
"What is it", the younger brother asked, "why was mother so furious and why were you running like that?" The fifteen year old looked inquisitively at his brother.
"Nothing that you would understand, little brother" the older brother replied, his voice muffed. Haldred, who was explicitly his mother's son, did not take no for an answer.
"Try me," he said, "could it for instance have something to do with you and a certain friend of yours named Hama and your escapades at the girls' bathhouse?"
Elfwine could not help smiling "You are a most precocious 15-year old", he said, "yes, and father has told us to apologise to the girls and that we will receive a punishment. It is not the punishment that ails me, but it is so embarrassing to have to apologise to the girls in front of everybody!"
"Aye, and what if Calla finds out, eh?" Haldred looked at his brother inquisitively.
Elfwine blushed beyond his hair roots; Calla was the oldest daughter of his father's Third Marshal, Elfhelm, and Elfwine had had a crush on her for quite some time. She was fifteen and a true daughter of Rohan, tall, blonde and with large, blue eyes.
"She probably will; somebody is bound to tell her you can't keep a ", he said.
Hama entered the stables in search of Elfwine. "I thought I would find you here," he said. "I have just received the worst scolding, I have ever had. I suppose that you did too. Exactly what did your father say?"
"He did not say as much as mother did, but he ordered me to apologise to the girls, and then tonight he will announce which punishment we should receive. So, I suppose that we had better get around to it, knowing father he will not let us off the hook so easily." The two young men looked at each other, shrugged and went to the kitchen to get it over with.
The large kitchen at Meduseld was humming with life as usual, everything overseen by the housekeeper, Beordlin, who had taken over when Fréalin grew too old to work all day. All activity stopped when the boys entered the room; it usually did not just because the children came in, but from the look on the boys' faces, the servants could tell that this was not one of the usual visits to beg for a snack between meals.
Elfwine cleared his throat and addressed the three young kitchen maids, who were busy preparing the evening meal for the court. "Hama and I – we, well, would like to apologise for our behaviour; it shall never repeat itself and we trust that you will take no offence. We really did not mean to dishonour you."
Hama added: "We are truly sorry that we did this to you". They bowed their heads to the girls; Elfwine looked directly at the girls; however embarrassing this was, he was still their prince and his father's son and therefore had to endure anything what might come. Beordlin smiled and said, "I think the girls agree; this incident is forgotten and your apology accepted, Your Highness."
Elfwine and Hama took their leave and went out into free air, and luckily did not hear the kitchen erupt with laughter. Varda, the cook, and Beordlin looked at each other.
"Yes, he is truly his father's son – in more ways than one", Varda said, thinking of a time when the present king was merely a boy of fifteen and more or less in the same situation as Elfwine, and faced a similar ordeal and subsequent punishment with stoic presence. At the time she had only been a young maid in the service of Théoden King. "And it is not all that bad to be looked at by a man like that", she mused, smiling to herself at the memory.
Éomer and Éothain had summoned their sons to the king's study after the evening meal. The boys had been quite subdued during the meal, not contributing much to the usual banter and chattering, which characterised the very informal court of Rohan. Elfwine's siblings had looked inquisitively at their older brother, but his face had given away nothing.
Éomer and Lothíriel had watched their son. Beordlin had told them of the boys' visit to the kitchen regions. Éomer was amused, but also proud of his son; he had obviously swallowed a lot of his pride to make the apology – and it tore at him, he could tell.
"You are right, Lothy," he whispered to his wife, "he is so very much like me that it is almost scary."
After dinner, Éomer sat behind his desk and Éothain had taken a position behind the king's chair looking solemnly at their boys. Éomer cleared his throat, furrowing his brows: "I understand from Beordlin that you have already made your apologies to the girls?"
The boys nodded.
"Very well, then – your punishment will be that you take up the position as stable boys for the next month; shovelling muck and being at the men's beck and call morning and night for that period will, perhaps, teach you a lesson that you will never forget about treating servants in a civil manner and treating women with respect. Report to the stable master tomorrow morning. And, of course, you will still have to attend your tutoring and your weapons' training."
The boys answered, "Yes, Sire" and bowed to the king.
"Dismissed", Éomer said and nodded to them. The boys left the room.
"Cursing under their breath, no doubt" Éothain said, looking at his king and friend.
"Possibly, I remember I did", said Éomer. "Well, it will not cure them from looking at girls; well, I sincerely hope not – but it will at least cure them from sneaking in on them."
"Did it cure you?" Éothain chuckled.
"Yes, at least from sneaking," the king grinned roguishly "and of course for the past many years I have only been looking at my wife." The two men chuckled and went to join their wives by the fire in the Great Hall.
Haldred had been waiting in the corridor. "What happened?" he asked.
Elfwine cast him a dark look: "It is bad – well, not really that bad, except for the fact that we have to muck stables for the next month, morning and night as well as the other things, we have to do."
"Fairly reasonably, I should say. Father is not an unjust man," Haldred offered.
"No, he is not", said Elfwine, "I suppose we deserve it."
"Yes" said Hama, "we do; I will go home and go to bed. We have to be up early in the morning." Elfwine and Haldred bid him goodnight and went to their room.
"Promise me, Haldred, that you will not tell Calla."
"Of course not, brother of mine" Haldred smiled, "I will keep your secret – although I do not think that anybody else will, but if she cares for you, she will forgive you." Elfwine thought that he certainly hoped so and went to bed, thinking of what Calla would say if she knew.
Éomer and his marshal told their wives how their sons had reacted to the punishment. "None too well about the nature of it, it tears at their pride, but they will overcome, after all it is only a little hard work and a bit of smirking that they will have to survive."
Soon afterwards, the king and queen bid their guests goodnight and went to their rooms. On the way they stopped at the children's rooms as they were wont and had done since they had their firstborn seventeen years ago. All were soundly asleep, and as Lothíriel were tucking in her youngest, Théodred, she smiled tenderly.
"They are so different even the girls, and yet so alike; they would gladly give their lives for each other even though they argue all day, but then so did my brothers and I."
Éomer put his arm around her shoulders, "And so did Éowyn and I, and still I love her dearly; if you cannot fight your siblings who then can you fight?"
The king and queen went to their rooms, Éomer still with his arm round his wife, and prepared for bed. As Éomer lay in bed waiting for Lothíriel to join him, he thought about his friends and liege-lords.
"It has been a while since we saw your father and brothers; yes, and the families from Gondor and Ithilien as well. It is almost the time of the harvest festival in Gondor. This year at least the oldest children should be allowed to participate."
"Yes that would indeed be a good idea; except that we shall have to keep a close eye on the three heirs; once you put these three together I fear that it will be as bad as having their fathers together, and when you add Elphir's eldest, well then …"
"Yes" Éomer concurred "just as bad as adding you or Éowyn to the cocktail; I seem to recall that our niece takes very well, indeed, after her aunt!"
Lothíriel jumped into bed and flung herself at him "You will pay for that remark, my lord and husband," she grinned.
"See what I mean; you are supposed to be a lady and now you are attacking me, and I know what that means." He put his mouth over hers, claiming it in a passionate kiss; "I may be getting older, but I still remember how to get to you to squirm, Milady."
"There is no doubt about that, Milord – but have you thought about what your children would say, if they knew how you behave?"
"I have, but it does not bother me", he grinned, shutting her mouth again.
----ooOOoo----
The weeks went by; Elfwine and Hama had overcome their punishment and life was almost back to normal. Eventually, the reason for the punishment had reached Calla, and she seemed to regard Elfwine with a little less warmth than usual. Lothíriel had noticed that her son had been casting long looks in Calla's direction and that the girl now seemed a bit colder towards her son.
"If she can not forgive him a small error like that; then she is not worthy of our son", she remarked to Éomer.
"Well, when you think of what you had to endure from me and still forgave me for, I tend to agree with you. Still they are way too young; she might come around."
"How young were you the first time you thought you were in love and that this was the love of your life?" Lothíriel inquired.
"About his age, and I got over it soon enough. However, it does not seem as if he is all that heartbroken. And besides, we are leaving for Minas Tirith in a couple of days and there will be plenty of things to distract him, among other a Gondorian princess. If she looks anything like her mother, then he will have forgotten Calla before you know it."
"I am aware of your deep and long infatuation with the Queen of Gondor, dear husband, and I still do not know how to deal with it. Lothíriel teased, "I do not how Aragorn endures it,"
"Because, Lothy, he knows that you are still and always will be the first in my heart." Éomer kissed her soundly, just as Haldred, the twins and Bronwen passed them in the hallway.
"Béma, they are at it again. No wonder that we are so many," sighed Théodwyn, the more precocious of the twins and her father's favourite, being as straightforward as him.
Their parents laughed, and Lothíriel blushed a little bit. "Mind your tongue, young lady", she said, "you are much to forward for a princess". Éomer looked at his daughter, and could not help smiling as the teenager frowned.
The children smiled fondly at their parents; although it was a bit embarrassing that their parents showed their love towards each other so openly at times, they loved them very much and would really not have them any other way.
Ciera, who had a more romantic nature than her sister, sighed. "I think that it is so romantic. When I get married, I want it to be like that."
Haldred looked at his sister.
"As if anybody would ever want to marry you, sister dear," he teased. Ciera, though a very gentle girl, lashed out after her big brother, who deftly ducked the blow. Bronwen and Théodwyn giggled.
"And now you are at it again", Éomer growled. "Get out of here, you lot and let your mother and I have some peace and quiet for once. Go do something productive such as your homework or mind your training --- or pack for a journey to Minas Tirith."
"Minas Tirith" cried the children, "you mean that we are all going to the harvest festival, even us", the girls cried.
"Yes, I have just decided that we are going to bring you all, even Théodred, if for nothing else just to shut you up. I am sure that your grandfather would love to see you all –-- although for my life I cannot think of why. Go tell Elfwine and Théodred."
The children hurried out to find their brothers to tell them the news.
"You really are serious, aren't you", Lothíriel laughed, "but why not; their cousins will be there, and Eldarion and his sisters would also love to see them."
"Aye", Éomer said with a roguish grin, "and then their parents might get some time to themselves, as their children will have other things to occupy them."
A couple of days later, the large party left for Minas Tirith. Éothain and Wyn accompanied the king and queen as did their wives, who were Lothíriel's ladies in waiting. The Royal Guard escorted them. Éomer and Éothain had discussed it and found it wise to bring an éored, just in case.
The children had all ridden since they were quite young and all had their own horses, except for little Théodred, who only had a small pony. He was considered too small to ride for himself as yet and therefore rode in the cart with his mother and her maid. Sometimes his father let him ride in front of him on Wingfoot to give his mother a bit of rest from the boisterous young son of hers. Lothíriel much preferred to ride herself, and she did so when Éomer took care of their son.
The banner of Rohan with the White Horse flew over the heads of the king and his sons. Elfwine, who rode beside his father, looked at it proudly. Éomer watched his sons. They did have the makings of very fine soldiers, both of them. Éomer had observed his sons during training and knew that they were skilled in the use of spear, bow and sword, although Haldred excelled most with the bow. Being slim and wiry like an elf, he did not yet have the strength of his brother and match him with the other weapons.
"He will eventually; especially as he resembles his grandfather and uncles very much", Éomer thought.
He turned his attention towards Elfwine. These past few months, the weapons training combined with the physical work in the stables had put some muscles on him and he looked almost grown up.
"Seventeen years old; at that age Théodred had already introduced me to the mead halls and what was in them", he mused. "I certainly hope that no one will do him that favour, although I do know a couple of my men, who would gladly take on the task. Well, if they do, I hope that they will at least be able to keep it from his mother. She would kill them and me as well." He smiled to himself at the thought.
Elfwine had been watching his father and saw the smile on his face. "He does look like a young man, when he smiles like that," he mused and suddenly understood why his mother had fallen so deeply in love with his father all those years ago. His mother had also seen the look on her husband's face.
"Right now he looks no older than his son does", she thought, "but I would give a few coins to know what my husband is thinking; probably something quite inappropriate, judging from the mischievous look".
After three days' ride, the company reached the borders of Gondor and could see Minas Tirith at a distance. The White City lay in the autumn sunlight and the Tower of Echtilion glittered like jewels. Only the two eldest had actually been to Minas Tirith before. The children gasped at the sight, "it is beautiful, but so is Edoras when the sun catches the Golden Hall", Haldred said and the other children agreed.
"I like it that you are so loyal to our country, but you are allowed to admire Minas Tirith as well," Éomer laughed.
The party from Rohan rode up the winding road to the castle of the king. Their arrival having been announced, Aragorn, Arwen and their children stood on the steps welcoming them. Éomer jumped down lithely and helped his wife down, while the boys attended to their sisters.
"Welcome, dear friends" said Aragorn, clasping arms with Éomer "it is good to see you again". He kissed Lothíriel's hand. Éomer greeted Queen Arwen with a polite bow and kissed her hand. She smiled "Welcome, Éomer King" and embraced Lothíriel warmly.
"Faramir and Éowyn will be arriving tomorrow and they too are bringing the entire litter" Aragorn rumbled "and along with our lot and those of your brothers, Lothíriel, I fear that the castle will never be the same again; neither will the city. I suppose we will have to bring in Gimli's dwarves again to rebuild it."
Éomer laughed heartily at this, knowing that Aragorn probably was just a little bit right; after all he knew what his own children were capable of.
"Father and the others are here already?" Lothíriel cried, "how wonderful".
Aragorn then greeted the children. First the Heir of Rohan. "It is just as seeing Éomer the first time I met him on the plains of Rohan; the same dark, severe look and the same pride. He will make a good king one day, I trust."
The children curtsied to the King and Queen of Gondor and then they turned to their friends, the children of Aragorn and Arwen. Eldarion, the eldest and heir to the throne embraced his friend.
"It is so good to see you, it's been a long time and I have a lot to tell you; after all with four sisters I tend to miss male companionship every once in a while!" he exclaimed.
Elfwine laughed and pointed to Haldred "You are welcome to my annoying younger brother here for a while – or would you prefer Théodred?" He indicated his youngest brother, who at the moment was sitting on his father's arm; he had been sleeping in the cart and was still looking very sleepy. Eldarion laughed and embraced Haldred as well, before he turned to their sisters.
The young heir of Gondor was only a few months older than Elfwine, tall and dark-haired like his parents and with a pair of haunting grey-blue eyes like his father. His Elvish blood was evident, but he was also very much his father's son. He was worth looking at, thought the twins. Ciera was not that attracted to him; she already had other preferences among the young Riders of Rohan, as her mother knew well and kept at awe, but Théodwyn was stunned, blushing shyly as she curtsied to the prince.
"Oh, do not do that, Théodwyn, you know me better than that," Eldarion smiled. He took her hand and looked into her very green eyes and got lost for a moment.
Elfwine and Haldred greeted Eldarion's sisters. As Éomer had foreseen, the two oldest princesses of Gondor, by now fifteen and thirteen were dark, Elvish beauties like their mother, whereas the two younger girls were more their father's daughters.
Haldred still seemed more interested in meeting with his cousins from Ithilien and Dol Amroth to discuss weapons and horses, but in a split second Elfwine had forgotten all about Calla as he saw Celebrian, the eldest Princess of Gondor. The same blue eyes as her mother's looked directly and smilingly at him and the same dark hair flowing in waves down her back.
"It has been a long time, princess" he mumbled, bowing over her hand. Celebrian looked up at the tall, young prince and like what she saw: long, blonde hair, broad shoulders and a handsome face with hazel eyes.
Éomer grinned to himself and whispered to Aragorn: "I foresaw this that this would happen, when my boy met your eldest. He would feel as I did when I saw your wife for the first time: the day could never be the same to me when I met the night. Very similar to the pang I felt when I saw Lothy for the first time."
Aragorn grinned back "Aye, I seem to remember that moment very well, but you were a little older than those two. And look at Eldarion, playing the courtier to your Théodwyn. Whatever is the matter with them?"
"Hormones, I believe," Éomer said dryly. "Poor boy; he does not know what hit him. She is about the worst combination of her mother and me that you will find." Arwen and Lothíriel had overheard their conversation and shook their heads at their men.
All this was interrupted as Lothíriel's father, brothers, and their families came rushing down the stairs to meet the Rohirrim. Imrahil embraced his daughter and then embraced his son-in-law. He was getting older; his hair almost white now but he still looked strong and fit.
He held out his arms and his Rohirrim grandchildren rushed to him, embracing their grandfather warmly. He smiled, looking at their happy faces. He lifted up Bronwen, who giggled happily at her beloved grandfather.
"The little Shield Maiden" Aragorn chuckled. "Is she as bold and brave as her aunt?" he asked.
Éomer grunted, "She is – and worse, for with the blood of Lothy thrown in, you would expect nothing less."
Imrahil set her down and in stead lifted up a laughing, boisterous five-year old that was finally wide-awake. "And another true son of Éomer", he grinned, "your blood is strong, Éomer, to produce such sons," He smiled warmly at his oldest Rohirrim grandchild, who stood beside him. Elfwine smiled back at his grandfather.
Imrahil then put his free arm around Haldred: "It is good to see that the Dol Amrothians are also represented in Rohan", he smiled as he looked into eyes that were so like his own.
Haldred smiled; he was very fond of his grandfather and uncles, especially because he was so like them. He particularly had been looking forward to seeing his oldest female cousin, Amrihil, the oldest child of Prince Elphir. Amrihil and the oldest son of Echirion, Isindir, were the closest to his age. During the children's visits to Dol Amroth, these three had always been the source of all mischief. The oldest Princess of Ithilien, Finduilas, often helped them in this; though younger than the others, she was very much Éowyn's daughter and very much part of this troublesome group. The other children of Lothíriel's brothers were younger, more of the age of the youngest children from Rohan and Ithilien.
Finally the greetings were completed and all the children were mixed in one large group of giggling and chatting dark and blond heads.
Aragorn looked at the lot: "I am beginning to see what you mean, my friend", he said to Imrahil "it is as we really are thinking that we alone should populate Middle Earth."
"Yes, and the Ithilien party is not even here yet," Arwen laughed, "I think that the midday meal is ready by now; let's all inside. Celebrian and Eldarion, will you see to it that your guests are well provided for."
She gestured to the servants who were especially appointed to take care of the children. "I have seen to it that they are seated away from us, at least for now. They are all entitled to a little time away from us and to get acquainted again." The two eldest of the Gondorian children nodded and the younger part of the company left together with the servants, all of them chatting merrily between them.
After the meal, the children split up. The youngest children took off to play under the supervision of maids and nannies. The eldest girls went to the princesses' chambers to look at gowns, "and to chatter about boys, presumably" as Éomer put it.
The only exception was Amrihil, who went with Haldred and Isindir. "Probably to figure out some mischief", her father Elphir remarked. The heirs to the kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan went to the stables to see to their horses, and get a little time away from their siblings and parents.
In the adjoining dining room, the parental generation had enjoyed their meal in peace and quiet, except for the usual bantering between the men. Legolas and Gimli, who had come from their corners of Middle Earth, had joined the party. Gimli was, as usual, rumbling about the size of the royal families.
He, of course, took special pleasure in teasing Éomer about his and Lothíriel's rowdy litter. Gimli had had a special relationship even since they met on the plains of Rohan and Éomer had threatened to cut off the dwarf's head. Lothíriel had always enjoyed the banter between her husband and the dwarf and knew that it was only the dwarf's special way of showing his affection. He treated Legolas and Aragorn much the same way.
"My dear queen," he said, "if I were you, I would not let that ruffian near my bed again; Meduseld must be quite overfull by now."
Éomer laughed heartily "If my wife looked anything like you, Gimli, you could rest quite assured that I would not come near you. Looking at you, I can certainly understand why people tend to believe that dwarves just spring out of stones!"
His eyes twinkled merrily as he looked at his friends; Legolas and Aragorn shared a big grin and the rest of the party, even the Princesses of Dol Amroth, could not help laughing.
Lothíriel dried the tears of mirth from her eyes "I am glad that the children left the room before you started this conversation, and if you are going to continue, I think that we should retire to – yes, anywhere but here. Don't you think so, Arwen?"
Arwen smiled "Yes and leave the men to their fun; I think you are right, Lothíriel."
Lothíriel rose and bent down to kiss her husband's cheek. "Not that Arwen and I mind this banter very much, but I can tell from the looks of my sisters-in-law that they might not find it as funny as we do", she whispered into his ear. "I think that I will go and check what my two youngest versions of the famous Rohan siblings are up to, probably no good", she added.
The men rose to see the ladies off, and then settled down again – "to more serious business" as Aragorn put it, as he lit his pipe, offering the tobacco to Gimli.
Éomer leaned back, stretching out his long legs, looking contentedly at his friends with a big grin on his face.
"What a nice way to get the ladies out of here", Aragorn grinned. "Some time you two have to show me how you do it".
Elphir smiled "It is good being back, my Lord", he said to Aragorn "and it is good to see that my brother-in-law have not lost his touch, especially on my sister."
"It has not been that long, dear brother", Éomer grinned, " did you really think that I would lose my touch in such short time?"
He continued "But I agree with you; it is good to have some time of leisure. Sometimes the duties seem to tower up. At times I really do wish that I was back at Aldburg, minding my business as the Third Marshal and nothing else."
Aragorn looked at him "and just being an orc killer, you mean? You might get a chance of that, my friend, before you know it. Also for that reason I am glad that the ladies left us. Faramir sent me reports just the other day that some activity has been spotted south of Gondor. It could be orcs; it could be Southrons, I do not yet know, but something tells me that we have to be alert, even amid the festivities."
The men fell silent at this; Éomer looked at Aragorn, ever the soldier: "I trust your instincts; I am glad that I at least brought an éored and I trust that you, Imrahil, also come prepared?"
"Indeed" Imrahil replied, "apart from the three rogues sitting there, I have brought a hundred knights of the Swan Legion. Old habits die hard, you know." The men settled down to discuss the prospects, if indeed the rumours were true.