Hello everyone! Here is my new Eomer/Lothiriel story. In my opinion, Eomer is everything a man should be and I am almost, ALMOST obsessed. I hope you enjoy this beginning. The story will switch between Eomer and Lothiriel's perspectives, but we're starting with his. I can't wait to hear what you think! (I do not any of these fabulous characters).

Chapter One (Eomer)

It was over. The fighting had stopped, the bodies had been cleared away, the carnage burnt or masked for the coronation that was approaching the next day. I sat next to my sister in the Houses of Healing. Eowyn was irritable. She felt she had been in the Houses too long.

"It is a flesh wound," she said adamantly.

I nodded. "Of course it is, sister." I stood and prepared to leave. "Perhaps you can talk some reason into her, Faramir," I said before I left.

I loathed the idea of my sister and Faramir. Not because of any ill feelings toward the man himself. Eowyn was all I had left in Arda, a fact that hit home harder after the War had ended. Throughout the whole ordeal, I had lost my cousin and uncle as well.

Faramir was a good man. He had met Eowyn in the Houses and I believe they had consoled one another their losses and perhaps celebrated their triumphs. If Eowyn had to love another man, then Faramir would do alright.

"I believe you should be able to go to the coronation tomorrow," I heard him whisper as I left. I shook my head, but kept on right out the door.

I walked around the stone city, feeling out of place there. It was nothing like the rolling hills and plains of Rohan. Meduseld was open and breezy and you could walk right through the town and into the hills. In Minas Tirith, there were levels that you had to climb down and wind your way through before you could even glimpse a blade of grass.

People were bustling around, trying to prepare for the coronation and celebration that would follow tomorrow. There was much sadness in the air, it was almost palpable, but underneath that it seemed like there was some hope for this new beginning.

"Your Grace," a messenger in Aragorn's livery stopped me, breathing hard and bowing. "The rulers are meeting for peace and alliance agreements."

I merely nodded. All of a sudden, with the death of my uncle, I had become "Your Grace, Your Majesty, and My King." All of it made my skin crawl.

I made my way back up to the highest level of the city and into the council chambers where dignitaries and royal men sat around a huge table, at the head of which was Aragorn, or King Elessar, as he was now called.

"Welcome Eomer-King," he said with a small smile from his seat. I took an empty chair towards the middle of the table between Hama and Eothain, my acting advisors, and listened as alliances for the New Age were hammered out. We whispered things to each other uncertainly. What did we know? We had all just days ago been merely men of war, not peace and certainly not a King and his royal advisors.

Rohan did not have much to offer other than our word when it came to solidifying those treaties. We had been hit hard in the War. Most of the Realm's fields were burned, livestock killed and left to rot, and many of our men had not returned to help rebuild leaving orphans and widows to try to help as well.

"Eomer-King," Aragorn called out to me once more, pulling me from my depressing reverie of what I would be returning home to. I looked up and the council was dispersing.

I stood and walked around the table, towering over some of the men. "I apologize, I was thinking of all that must be done when I return."

Aragorn rested a hand on my shoulder. "I know how that feels to have that weight on you. A new feeling for the both of us, I am afraid." He gestured to the one man who had not yet left the chamber. "Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth would like to speak with you."

I looked at the clean cut older man. His grey hair was cut above his shoulders and tied back away from his face, he was clean shaven, and stood erect and proud. Reaching a hand out to me, he clasped my forearm and I returned the gesture. "It is a pleasure, my lord; to finally get to speak with you after all you have done for my men and me."

It was Imrahil and his Swan Knights who had come to the Rohirrim's aid when we were outnumbered on Pelennor Field. It had been him also who had realized, while paying respects to the procession that bore my Uncle Theoden, that Eowyn was yet still alive. I felt that I owed the man much, though I had naught to give.

Imrahil waved the formalities away. "I would like for myself and a small party from Dol Amroth to accompany you back to Rohan for your Uncle's funeral." He paused. "We have been great allies throughout the War and your uncle was a remarkable man and soldier. I would like to represent my people and those of Gondor in paying our final respects."

"I would appreciate that very much, my lord." I smiled softly at him. "I will send word ahead to have accommodations made for you and your people. Might I ask how many will be attending?"

"Myself, my two younger sons, and my daughter, as well as a small guard." He seemed to be chewing on more words. "It would be an opportunity for you to possibly get to know my daughter, Lothiriel."

I looked at him curiously.

"In Gondor it is customary to strengthen ties of allegiance and peace with marriages," he paused. "I am sure that you have already been put under much pressure to marry and produce an heir."

His words rang true. The few times that I had met with my own men and councilors, it had been brought to my attention over and over again that I was the last of my line, besides Eowyn and as it was looking she would not remain in Rohan forever. Her children would belong to Gondor.

"That is a generous offer, my lord. But I am not sure what I can do on my end of that agreement. I have next to nothing to offer you."

"Yet," Imrahil said. "Rohan will rise again. We could have a trade negotiation once you and your people are on your feet once more. Eomer, our Realms are so different and they specialize in many unique things. It would be beneficial to both of our economies to import new food and goods and other products. Not to mention it would be an alliance in times of peace as well as war, as it will certainly come back around."

I looked at him, trying to hide my bafflement. "I surely cannot say no to that, but I will speak with my advisors about it."

The older man nodded. "I hope to hear from you before we set off." He left me standing there, thinking over his offer in wonder.

ooooOoooo

"Absolutely!" Hama exclaimed. "You would be a fool to turn down such an offer."

We were sitting around a campfire on the field outside of Minas Tirith. I had come out to seek my men and check on my soldiers. They were restless and ready to set off back to what family remained to them.

"The advisors have already been on you about an heir. This is the perfect opportunity," Eothain added as he spooned stew into his mouth greedily.

"This alliance could help our people greatly as soon as we return. Dol Amroth will have stores of food that they might send to us to hold us over until we can harvest," Hama said pragmatically. "Our people will be eating fish." He chuckled and I had to smile at that as well. The offer seemed too good to be true and certainly too good to pass up. When would I have time to hunt for a wife once I returned? I would be busy with rebuilding and making my first decisions as the King. It seemed a better idea to marry for an alliance as well, no matter how that made me cringe. Imrahil was a good man and I had met his sons after the War, surely his daughter would be at least pleasant.

"I will speak with him tomorrow," I informed them. "And accept his offer." I stood, but instead of heading back into the city, I entered my tent on the field.

I was more comfortable there and was not yet used to the luxurious and spacious accommodations that were made for kings.

I hope you loved it! Let me know what you thought and please, please, please give me any suggestions you have for the story. I write for you all. No hate comments or flames please!

Happy reading,

Avonmora