2nd December

It started with a saccharine aroma, pleasant but unknown to the northern folk. It wavered in the air, invited people to linger and enjoy the rich layers of exotic spices enfolding in delicious wafts. As the mouthwatering essence filled his nose, Eomer was quite taken aback for a moment, somehow reminding him of days long gone. He leaned on one of the richly carved pillars in contemplation, remembering Eowyn's blinding smile during their first Yule in Edoras, Theodred's booming laughter as he swirled his sister around in circles, and Theoden's warm hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to join the festivities. How long they had come, yet somehow, he doubted they could ever recreate these golden moments, forever destroyed by that bastard Wormtongue and...

"Eomer?" A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, startling him in the process. He turned around to find his wife Lothiriel looking up at him with a curious look.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

A slow smile crept across his face. He turned to her, pulling her into his arms. "Just memories, love, that's all." For a fleeting moment, her piercing eyes were slightly unsettling to him, as if she could see right through his facade.

Her warm fingers stroked his bearded cheek: "Don't brood over the past, my love." He slightly chuckled at that, shaking his head. "How do you..."

She winked at him. "Love, how could I not? It's plainly written on your face." Before she could say anything more, he swiftly covered her soft lips with his. Her hands snaked up into his hair, intensifying their tender moment.

"Ahem." Eothain, captain of the guard, muttered disapprovingly, clicking two steaming mugs together. "I'd hate to impose..."

Eomer, slightly annoyed, looked over his shoulder. "And yet here you are.", he grumbled as Lothiriel giggled into his chest.

"Now, now! Be good children!"

Carrying a huge tray of baked goods, Alva, the housekeeper, still held the power of the Mark's most famous warriors to falter under her stare. "You", With a whip of her head, she addressed Eothain to assist her. " Make yourself useful and bring in the hot cider, and if I catch you sample anything, there won't be another Yule for you." Eothain, smirking at the old woman's angry tirade, joyfully skipped to the kitchen.

Suddenly, Eomer noticed that scent again. "What is all this?", he asked incredulously. Lothiriel slowly pulled him towards the long, wooden table which now suffered under the weight of delicious foods.

"Your lovely wife and I had a field day in the kitchen." Alva smiled while the royal pair took a seat on the narrow bench. Next to the comforting and familiar dishes of chicken pot pie and a sizzling roast, there were glazed pastries that Eomer had never seen before. As the whole household usually ate a decent but hearty meal in the evening, the king was quite astounded by these crafty concoctions.

When the other members of the household took their places and began to eat, Lothiriel grasped his hand. "We received spices from Umbar and Dol Amroth yesterday eve, so I thought to introduce new dishes, I hope you don't mind." Her look was one of uncertainty as they both had worked hard to keep their people fed before the first cold. He tenderly kissed the palm of her hand and smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry about it. But do tell, what is this pastry?"

His reassuring tone made her lively again. "It's called krepl, it's a light dough baked in fat. Here, taste it." Before he could cherish his chicken pot pie, his wife had already picked up a treat. "It's made with cinnamon and honey, try it."

And so he did. The first bite revealed so much - from the crunchy exterior to the soft layer underneath that stroked his palate in a delectable manner. He savoured every bite while thinking how on earth he got to be so lucky. She smiled ever so sweetly, as she pulled a steaming hot mug next to them. "Here, that's what we drink during Yule. It's hot chocolate but with a twist.", she smiled devilishly.

"So bossy", he chuckled as he received the mug gratefully. The drink turned out to have a slightly stingy yet comfortable taste. His wife watched his face in anticipation as he took another sip from his mug. "We use chilli in our hot chocolate to intensify the flavour, do you like it."

He smiled at her. "It's quite delicious. I don't think that I could ever have it bland, now." , he laughed, relishing in the warm feeling of the beverage. Lothiriel's eyes lit up as she took the mug from him. "It's quite good, isn't it?"

He nodded before she started anew: "You have something on your face."

"What?", he asked, quite uncertain.

She smiled warmly before she bend over to him for a loving kiss.

Slight groaning sounds came from the onlookers who tried to unsuccessfully mask their annoyance of the sickly sweet couple. In the raucous hall of Meduseld, Lothiriel smiled anew. "Me."