Lothíriel had once told Éomer she had never really had any friends before her time in Rohan. She knew the reason for that – she had just been too different. It didn't mean she had been unhappy or lonely, though. She had been content in the companionship she had shared with her brothers. Well, maybe she had been content because she hadn't known what she was missing.

In Rohan, she had found love, life, friends... it was much to be thankful for, and she knew she would always be ready to fight for it.

One friend she had not thought to have was Marshal Elfhelm. She remembered him from the time after the War of the Ring had ended, striding tall and Rohirric with Éomer. While the man seemed to possess an invincible joy of life, he could be very prudent and fierce as well, and he had not seemed the kind of person she'd befriend.

She became aware of how fond she was of him on a day near the closing of the celebrations, when he sat with Elfwine on his left arm and Cenric sitting on his knee. The man did not seem to know he was being observed, and Lothíriel did not bear to make her presence known. Instead, she just watched.

"See, this little baby here is called Elfwine. He's your prince, Cenric. One day he will be your king. I know, he looks small now but he will grow. Even so, no matter how big he grows, you must always look after him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble. His Da would be so unhappy with us if we let harm come to him... and his Ma just might feed us to the orcs. So we must take very good care of him, son", Elfhelm explained to Cenric very solemnly. The little boy looked at his father with wide eyes; he had not yet seen his first birthday, but the likeness he bore to his father already was astounding.

"He's surprisingly good with them, isn't he?" Ceolwen asked softly as she stopped to stand beside Lothíriel. She went on, "And he learns so fast. You would laugh if you knew how awkward he was with Cenric when our son was born."

"I never thought I'd see Elfhelm as father", Lothíriel said, smiling at her friend. "But then, that was before I knew you."

Ceolwen answered the smile, though there was something bittersweet about it as well.

"Neither did I expect to see it. I thought we would have a few months together at best... my faith was not as strong as his, though I understand now how wrong I was to doubt you and Éomer", she said in quiet tones and shook her head. "I will never doubt either of you again."

"You doubted... yet you still fought with us. To me, that is what matters", Lothíriel said firmly and wrapped an arm about her friend's shoulders.

As any time of feasting, so did this one have to come to its end. A week had gone by in Edoras as though a blink of an eye, and on the next morrow, the retinue of King Elessar would head back to Gondor once more. Aragorn had been hoping he might continue northwards and visit Arnor at long last, but the situation in the east made him uneasy – he did not want to be as far as in the North Kingdom if a war loomed at Gondor's doors. For now, Arnor would still have to wait for him, but he fully intended to see to the lands of his birth and make sure the lost realm would rise again. Though he could not go there himself yet, past two years had already seen a slow but steady influx of hopeful new settlers travelling north to rebuild and inhabit Arnor once more.

But tonight he did not entertain the everyday concerns of the King. Rather, he enjoyed the feast in the Golden Hall: Rohirrim surely knew how to make merry and enjoy life. It was good to see his friends Éomer and Lothíriel were rather enjoying it too, as could be judged by the smiles on their lips and laughter on their brows. With his birth, Elfwine had brought such joy and hope into the world.

It was by chance that he came to stand next to Ceolwen, the famous Shieldmaiden who had been one of the first to join Éomer in the fight against the usurper, and who had married Elfhelm. Though Aragorn had met her a few times, he could not say he knew her very closely. He did know, however, that both Éomer and Lothíriel regarded her their friend, and in his eyes she needed no other credential.

As a greeting he lifted his cup, and she answered with a similar gesture and a smile.

"King Elessar. It is an honour", she said and nodded her head.

"Likewise, Lady Ceolwen", he replied and smiled as well.

"I hope you have enjoyed your stay here in the Mark?" she asked politely. Though she was considered a fine warrior, now she appeared like any noble woman of the Mark in her deep red gown, and her hair in thick braids. Though she was not the fairest lady of Rohan, she surely was an impressive one.

"I have, thank you. I'm always glad to visit your land, though it is too rarely now. The air here always seems somehow purer and clearer", he commented, making the blonde woman smile.

"That is the freedom you smell in our air", she said lightly and humorously. He let out a small chuckle and looked about himself, his eyes passing by many familiar faces. His smile became fond when he saw Gimli, holding little Elfwine on his knee and singing some Dwarven song to the prince. The sight was immeasurably strange, but also heart-warming.

The little boy's mother stood next to them, grinning brightly as mirth sparkled in her eyes, and Aragorn smiled to himself. He glanced at Ceolwen, "Tell me, my lady, how do you like your queen?"

His question brought a fond expression to the woman's face.

"She's my friend and I love her dearly. I have seen she's brave and a capable queen, yet I feel there must be some elf in her, for her spirit is evergreen... I think even if she and you both were a hundred years old, she could still make you laugh in a heartbeat", Ceolwen replied softly.

"Would other Eorlingas agree with you, my lady?" Aragorn asked carefully. He had sometimes wondered about it, because while Lothíriel herself said she felt welcomed, and Éomer insisted the Mark could not want for a better queen, they were both understandably subjective in their stances. Not to mention the reception of the Gondorian queen of the Riddermark could tell a lot about where the two realms stood in their alliance.

"Oh, our people love her, my lord. She is our Lioness and the mother of the future king. If there ever were a time our people were shy of her, it is long past, and most days they even forget she was not born in this land. While there has been some spiteful tales, to my understanding those are but a small minority against the general opinion", Ceolwen said firmly, giving Aragorn a stern stare. But then her expression became softer, just as well her voice, "In the end what she did for our king and for our people will always remain. It can never be forgotten, and never rewarded in the full measure."

He stood silent and said nothing; she looked straight at him again and a smile made its way to her face once more.

"And I know you played your own part in those events, my lord. Lothíriel says she'd not have got far without your guidance, and Lady Éowyn's help. So we owe to our gratitude to you also", Ceolwen stated and bowed her head.

"We all needed each other to find him and bring him back. Lothíriel's faith and tenacity, Éowyn's strength, my knowledge... these all played a part. Yet I had feared he would return home and find it hostile, perhaps receive some harm. You saw it was not so, and in aiding him you added to the saving of the Mark, my lady", Aragorn said and reached to touch the Shieldmaiden's shoulder. She looked up again and smiled.

"Éomer is my king. He is a good ruler – he cares about his people, and he came back even after all that he endured in the south. I would fight for him any day, even against the most overwhelming odds", Ceolwen stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Aragorn decided it was. He felt reassured: in the Mark, things were as they should be. Whatever wounds had been caused by the Kin-strife and events leading to it, he felt that those wounds were healing as finely as one could hope for... and with this peace, he knew his friend and brother could finally pursue and fulfil the promise Aragorn had seen in him from that very first meeting on the plains of the Mark.

With the ending of the celebrations, the crowd in Edoras dispersed once more and went their ways. Goodbyes were, as always, bittersweet; however after such a busy time the prospect of ordinary life was welcome.

Éowyn and Faramir took their leave with Aragorn and Arwen, inviting the royal couple of the Mark to visit them in Ithilien, and promising to write letters soon as they had arrived home. Luckily, Lothíriel's own Gondorian family left a few days later, so one did not have to endure so many goodbyes in one day. After many hugs and kisses, Father too insisted she and her two horselords must come visit Dol Amroth some time soon. It was strange to think the last she had been home, excluding her and Éomer's brief sojourn in the city after leaving Pelargir, had been during the southern campaign.

She reassured him they would come, held back the urge to hug him one last time, and watched as her family mounted their horses and carriages. By her side, Éomer stood – gently he wrapped an arm about her, and she leant closer to him. In silence they watched as the Amrothian company slowly exited the courtyard of the Golden Hall and started their way downhill. Lothíriel let out a small sigh – now, with the departure of the last of their guests, the celebrations were truly over.

"We do have to make that trip to Gondor as soon as we can. I want to see Dol Amroth again... I feel like I never said proper goodbyes to that place", she said that night to her husband, when all the guests were gone and quiet had fallen at last. Their son was with the nursemaid, allowing the royal couple some much needed time alone.

"Aye, we do. Your father would like it – he seems to miss you very much", Éomer said, watching her with half-open eyes. Settled lazily in an armchair and resting his feet on a stool, he too looked like he had been looking forward to this quiet moment. He spoke again then, but his voice fell more quiet, "Sometimes I have to wonder how you could leave your home like that and never demanded to go back. It seems like a great sacrifice."

"Well, it was not easy. But I knew and still do know what was at stake. First it was either home or your life, and for me there is not much of a choice between those... and then I kept thinking were I would be needed the most. I couldn't just go back to Dol Amroth in the middle of Kin-strife or in the first year that followed. I knew I could never just sit back in my father's palace while all that work was falling on you. Then Elfwine made it known he was on the way, and I can't travel as long as he's too small", she replied at length and leant back her head. She frowned slightly, "After all that has happened, it will feel strange to go there again... when we left for Pelargir, I had no idea it would be years I would next visit the place where I was born."

Her husband regarded her quietly and his brow creased. By his expression she could see there was something troubling him. But before she could ask what it was, he spoke up.

"It does not seem fair that you've had to give up so much because of me", Éomer said, regarding her with solemn eyes.

One corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile and she waved her hand in a small dismissing gesture.

"Yet what would my life be without those sacrifices? I would spend my days in Dol Amroth, purposeless and alone, and my life would be empty of meaning. But for the road I walked with you, I now have a family of my own, and I can live knowing that I have helped to make so many lives better. What more can one ask for?" she pointed out gently. He thought of her words and nodded quietly – she saw he had to agree with her point of view. He did not say anything, though. He just sat there and watched her quietly, and she thought she saw some wonder in his eyes.

"What is it?" Lothíriel asked curiously. Now her horselord smiled, and the expression was incredulous and happy.

"I do not suppose I will ever understand what I did to deserve you", Éomer said plainly. The noise she made was something like a scoff, but it also held something very fond.

"It is very simple, you dear oaf", Lothíriel said and reached with her foot to nudge his.

"It is?" he asked with a slight lift of his eyebrows. She smiled.

"Yes", she replied and met his gaze steadily. "It's the simplest thing in the world: you loved me."

Life tooks its normal courses again in Edoras. As the autumn progressed, tidings came to the capital from the different parts of the realm: the harvest had been very good, and storages were filled with foodstuff to last through the winter and beyond. Éomer's efforts to increase the trading between Rohan and Gondor were starting to pay off as well, for traffic had slowly grown between the two realms since the ending of Kin-strife, and Rohirric products were highly sought after in the south. It appeared the Eorling weavers simply couldn't produce fabric fast enough to satisfy the demands of the traders. The lively trade had started to bring new wealth into the land which had been ravaged by wars only a couple of years ago. And if the foals and fillies born last spring would make it through their first winter, there was also a promise of great multiplying of the herds.

As the King's Marshals – the newly appointed Deorwine Marshal of the North-mark among them – visited the capital to give their reports, they said all the realm now seemed to thrive in a hopeful mood, and people spoke the name of Éomer Éadig in reverence and love. In the North-mark, building new villages was going well, and Deorwine's Riders kept at bay what few orcs dared to cross the border. Even the West-mark now had peace and prosperity, and according to Erkenbrand Feran's supporters there had mostly forgotten about their grudges. Moreover, another encouraging sign was the traffic between Rohan and Dunland – only, it was now becoming more peaceful kind, and there had been small trading contact.

"Perhaps it is because there is a king in Arnor once more. Now that folk are travelling there to rebuild Arnor, perhaps Dunlendings too are feeling the pressure to seek a more peaceful existence with the Riddermark", Éomer suggested when the matter was discussed in his council meetings. What ever the reason may be, Lothíriel at least was glad for it, and she knew her husband was too.

Lothíriel's days went by fast. Between her duties as the Queen, minding her son, and spending time with her family, not much spare time was left. But the moments she could take for herself were most often spent on the training grounds, keeping up her own skills of an archer or instructing others. Even more she'd be with the little filly Éomer had given to her after Elfwine's birth in the hopes of building a deep friendship with the young animal. She had not yet come up with a name for the filly, as nothing seemed quite fitting. It would be a while before they could ride together, but watching the young animal grow was rewarding as well, and being instructed by Éomer himself as to how to raise her was even more so.

Slowly but surely Elfwine grew, and it was delightful to watch him develop, see how his eyes became more aware and concentrated, and hear his cooing voice in the royal chambers and the Hall. When he learnt to turn, it was as though witnessing some kind of a miracle, and both the parents beamed proudly having seen it. The same joy and wonder were there when Elfwine started to move on his own, and when he took his first steps. Soon as he was able to walk on his own, there seemed to be no boundaries to his wish to explore his surroundings. Among the members of the household, the child was an endless source for laughter and mirth. Yet even as Lothíriel watched her son grow larger, she remembered what Osythe had said soon after his birth: it will feel like a blink of an eye.

It was not only the realm that thrived these days, but families as well. Ceolwen and Elfhelm came to the capital as often they could, bringing Cenric with them. When Éothain and Scýne's children were added and all were present in Meduseld, there was a multitude of noises of children in the Hall; they would run (or toddle, as in Cenric's case, and Elfwine would crawl after them) about while their parents sat around a table, drank ale or tea, and spoke of many things. Elfwine was still too small to understand much of what was going on, but Elva had already taken the three little boys under her wing and was their informal leader.

Looking at them in the middle of their games Lothíriel could only smile, for she remembered the most uncertain of times and moments of despair; flashes of memories on the smuggler ship, the long nights she had lain awake under the southern stars wondering if Éomer were still alive, and the weeks of struggle against Feran... in those times, she had not dared to imagine so much life would follow if they just endured through everything.

All this, she thought to herself when she looked at Éomer, balancing Elfwine against his shoulder and singing a song about his grand-uncle Théoden, all this because he would not give up... because I could find him. May a day never come that I forget the meaning if it.

A/N: Here's some domestic happiness! Celebrations are now over, but there is peace in the realm, and the reign of Éomer the Blessed is only at its beginning. :)

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Jo - It's fun to engage different POVs at times, like Aragorn's in this one. I hope it's entertaining as well. :) And like I said, Éowyn should have a pretty unique point of view to her brother's life!

brandibuckeye - Glad to hear that! And thank you! :)