Hi all! Here is the newest chapter of Mareke and Eomer's tale! I'm not sure how I feel about this one. It was necessary to move the story along, but it might be a little flat. I hope you don't think so. Enjoy!

Chapter Five (Third Age 3019)

"Where is my son?" Mareke demanded of every servant she saw. She had come flying into the sandstone palace from the stables as soon as she had made it back to her home. "Where is the Crown Prince?!"

"The Princess," the servants murmured over and over again, clearly never having expected to see her again.

"Adnan!" Mareke called moving through the corridors toward the private residences of the royal family.

"Mother?" Adnan came flying around a corner, but when he saw her, he stopped short.

Mareke sprinted to him and wrapped him tightly in her arms, sobbing into his curly hair, barely able to breathe.

"Habibi (sweetheart)," she murmured over and over, before finally holding him out at arm's length.

"They told us you were-" Adnan had tears in his eyes and when they spilled over, Mareke wiped them gently from his cheeks.

"I know," she whispered, kissing all over his face. "I know."

In that instant, she truly realized just how close she had come to never seeing her son again and leaving him an orphan with no one but her father to care for him.

She choked on another sob as they clung to one another.

"Mareke?"

She glanced up, vision blurry, to see her father, the King of Harad.

He sank to his knees and held both his daughter and grandson as the servants stared on.

"I thought this impossible," he whispered.

"It is a long story," she replied.

"I cannot wait to hear it," Hashad said as they all stood. He wrapped his daughter tightly in his arms. "I thought to never see you again," he said in a strangled voice so only she could hear. "You have no idea how happy I am that that is not the case."

Adnan, at ten years old, had long since done away with showing his mother much affection, thinking himself too old and mature for such things, but as they made their way toward her rooms, he slipped his hand in hers and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Get cleaned up and rested. You and I shall talk later," Hashad said, though he seemed hesitant to let her out of his sight.

Mareke nodded and let Adnan escort her to her rooms.

Once upon a time, they had shared rooms, with his nursery attached, but as he had grown older he had moved down the hall.

She had missed the vibrant colors of her home. Everything in Minas Tirith had been white and grey. She rejoiced to see the colorful silk cushions and heavy rugs that adorned her rooms.

"Jidd (grandfather), has put me in Uncle Na'man's old rooms," he said quietly.

"You are the Crown Prince now," Mareke replied quietly.

"Maybe he will come back like you did," Adnan said hopefully.

"I do not think we can hope for too many miracles," she replied sadly.

They were both silent as they thought of Na'man, who had loved them both so dearly.

Mareke asked the servants to draw her a bath.

"Can I stay here?" Adnan asked quietly.

He looked scared. As though she might never emerge from the lavatory and he would be alone once more.

"Of course. I will not take very long," she promised.

Mareke hugged her son once more and found it difficult to release him.

The door closed behind her and she sagged. The feelings of relief had crashed over her so hard, but then so had the fear that was almost retroactive.

While she had been in Eomer's care, she had known she would get back to her son, but seeing him made her realize that had anything gone differently in Minas Tirith she would never have made it home.

She shed the Rohirric riding outfit that had been leant to her by Eowyn and submerged herself into the warm water. It almost immediately turned brown from the dirt and dust of her travels.

As she closed her eyes and went under the water, she thought about where she might have ended up if it hadn't been for Eomer.

Everything from the bed she had slept on to the food she had eaten would not have been the same. She could have been beaten and violated in so many ways it made her head spin to think about. She would never have been sent home. She probably would have either been killed or kept as a servant.

Mareke came up gasping for air, trying to ground herself in the knowledge that she had made it safely back home to her father and son.

ooooOoooo

That evening, her father had dinner served in her private dining room for just the three of them.

"Tell us how it is that you are back here, when we had heard reports that we would never see you again," Hashad said as he sat at the head of the table.

Mareke took a deep breath. "I was captured. I strayed too far onto Pelennor Field, hoping to be of more use, but that did not end well for me." She avoided saying that she had been looking for her brother, but she was sure her father could guess as much.

King Hashad looked tired and haggard and Mareke could not begin to imagine the strain he was under with the loss of the War and the death of his son.

Mareke then proceeded to tell her father how she had been saved and kept safe for the duration of her stay and had been sent home after King Elessar's coronation. She did not mention that she had made love to the man that had bought her several times and that she had, all things considered, enjoyed her time in Minas Tirith.

"And who was this man who acted so nobly?" Hashad asked.

"Eomer-King of Rohan," Mareke replied quietly.

She thought her father's eyes would fall out of his head if he opened them any wider.

"A king treated you so well and saw so closely to your care?" he asked.

Mareke nodded. "It was unexpected. Very unexpected."

"I should make some overture to thank him," Hashad said, more to himself than to his daughter.

"I am not sure that would be wise," she said. "I did not disclose my identity to him. I thought it might be safer to keep that a secret and it proved to work. He was under the impression that I was a healer from the southern reaches of Harad; a woman of no importance."

"I see," her father responded. "I shall think about it. After all that has happened, you might be just the tie that is needed to move towards peace."

"Perhaps," she agreed. Mareke turned her attention to Adnan and for the remainder of dinner, she asked him all about what he had been doing since she left. He filled her in on his academic and tactical lessons, the adventures he and his leopard, Duma, had been on, and everything else he could think of.

After a while, Hashad sent his grandson to bed and despite every part of Mareke aching to accompany him and tuck him in, she knew that being back at home meant tending to her duties to her father, King, and Realm. Many times before, it had been at the expense of other parts of her life.

She held no official role within her father's administration, but ever since her mother passed when Mareke was little older than Adnan, he had turned to her for the sort of intimate conversations and advice he had always relied on his wife for.

"I am at a loss, Mareke," he said, after she had kissed Adnan goodnight and sent him to bed, promising that they would spend the following day together. "What am I to do without your brother?"

"I can help you," she replied. "Unofficially of course and until Adnan is of an age to take over more responsibility. You are not alone, Father."

Hashad reached across the table and took her hands in his. "Neither are you, daughter."

Both of their eyes welled and they sat in silence for a while, realizing fully all that had been lost and all that was still to be faced.

ooooOoooo

Nearly two hours later, after discussing all of the horrible outcomes of the War for their people and deciding what to deal with first, Mareke thought she might have to crawl to her bed, she was so exhausted.

When she pulled the silk sheets back, she was surprised to find someone else already in her bed.

"How did you sneak back into my rooms?"

Adnan's dark eyes blinked up at her in the dim candlelight. "I did not sneak. I am allowed anywhere now."

"Do not take advantage of your new status," Mareke admonished him gently, crawling next to him. "But I am glad you are here."

In the dark, Adnan seemed less self-conscious and spoke to his mother freely.

"I was so scared without you, Mother," he whispered.

"I was scared without you too," she replied, running her fingers through his thick, black curls.

"You will not leave me again, will you?"

"Not as long as I live," she promised, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

ooooOoooo

Edoras came into view and instead of relief, as he usually felt when returning home, Eomer felt only dread.

There had been no respite upon leaving Minas Tirith, as an entire royal cavalcade had accompanied him back to Rohan to bury his uncle. There had been no time to let his kingly facade fall away as he was constantly among those he felt the need to impress.

Outside of the Fellowship, Frodo and Sam riding alongside Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas together on Arod, and Gandalf, there was Queen Arwen and father Elrond and her twin brothers. Faramir, now Steward of Gondor and Lord of Ithilien accompanied his sister. The Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim, Celeborn and Galadriel were in attendance to pay their respects, as was the entire royal family of Dol Amroth; Prince Imrahil and his three sons and daughter, Lothiriel.

Pippin rode with the knights of Gondor and Merry, Eowyn's faithful companion through the final battle, rode next to the golden bier that Theoden laid upon.

Eomer found that throughout the journey, he could not turn around to look at his uncle in all of his battle wear, holding his sword, Herugrim, on his chest. It was how a King of Rohan should be returned home. His final hours were spent in the defense of his people, and the world as they all knew it. He passed without shame and helped to bring about the end of the darkness that had threatened to consume them.

But Eomer could not look at the man who had raised him since he was eleven. Then more than ever, he needed Theoden's guidance. He had not expected to take over the role of King and he felt abandoned.

As they approached the city, Eowyn rode up next to him, leaving her betrothed behind.

Eomer had not been surprised when Faramir had come to ask him for his permission to wed his sister, but he had been heartbroken nonetheless. The couple would not be staying in Edoras for very long after Theoden's funeral and his own coronation. Many parts of Ithilien needed rebuilt and Eowyn was to go with Faramir to get acclimated to her new home and see what service she could be to her future husband and people.

And then Eomer would be alone with his rule.

As the siblings led their party up the hill to the Golden Hall, people came out from their homes and lined the road. There was no raucous cheering and celebrating to see their King returned. It was not because Eomer was unpopular, but it was out of respect for Theoden-King and for the recognition of all they had lost in the War.

The men who had not returned were countless, but outside of that, so many of the Rohirric people had lost their livelihoods in the raids that had come at the hands of Saruman. He had sent his wildmen to pillage the villages of Rohan and homes, crops, and livestock had been destroyed.

Eomer wanted to sag under the pressure of it all, but he knew that he had to remain upright at all times. He would forever be under the scrutiny of not only his people, but his peers as well.

"Welcome to Meduseld," he said, once the group had climbed the steps to the large stone and wooden building.

He knew not what awaited him inside. Meduseld had not been kept up during the last few years of his uncle's rule. Entertaining guests had fallen to the wayside and so had the maintenance of the royal home.

Eomer led them in, his heart pounding nervously, but as the heavy doors were opened for him he saw that the servants had seen to cleaning the hall until it gleamed.

There were some tapestries hanging that could stand to be replaced, but the hall itself shone. The horse heads that were carved throughout and the gold inlaid in the pillars were radiant in the firelight and Eomer felt himself relax as he turned to his guests once more.

"You will be shown to your rooms and then we shall share a meal this evening. If you require anything, please let me know."

He smiled and bowed as they all passed before him to take their rest and refresh themselves after the long journey from Minas Tirith to Edoras.

"Your Majesty?"

Eomer turned to see Eothain approaching. He had led the majority of their remaining men home before the coronation of King Elessar and his following wedding to Queen Arwen.

"Please, Eothain. I cannot stand the formality from you," Eomer said with a sigh.

He and Eothain had grown up together at the Aldburg and Eothain had joined Eomer's eored when he had been named Third Marshal of the Mark.

"I am sure you are tired, but there is much that needs your attention. Your council has gathered."

Eomer nodded and followed his friend, though he wanted desperately to find his way to his new chambers and sleep for a fortnight.

ooooOoooo

The events leading up to Theoden's funeral were somber. All those gathered remembered not only the loss of their king, but their own personal losses as well.

Eomer's coronation had been the day after they arrived. It could not be put off. There was hardly time to prepare anything and so it had been a small affair, though Eomer had promised his people that they would be able to take part in the funeral for their late king and the celebration of his life afterward.

Eomer was grateful for his coronation. He was not sure he could have feigned grace and excitement at the prospect of being crowned. He was terrified and filled with dread, in all reality.

Eowyn had placed the heavy crown on his head, though he had worn it in Minas Tirith, and he had spoken the solemn vow to serve his Realm and people until his dying breath and it was over.

Three days after the coronation, a huge crowd made their way to the burial mounds. Theoden would be entombed in the same mound as his son, Theodred, had been less than a month prior.

The women were veiled and the men wore dark colors. It was the first time that Eomer had donned all of his regal finery in Edoras and he felt as though he would suffocate in the heavy garments, despite the cool air of early spring rolling across the plains.

He and Eowyn followed the bier, Theoden still in his finest armor. His sword would be entombed with him as well. Behind him the rest of the royal party followed as they all passed through the parting of people who had come to pay their respects.

"Your uncle was a great man," Aragorn said, beside him, when they finally stopped. The mound was closed and there was a deafening silence.

"Aye."

Before Eomer could say more, Eowyn began the keening song of mourning on his other side. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

He knew Eowyn sang not because she wanted to, but because if she did not, she would fall. His sister was a warrior as he was and she would be strong whatever it took.

The women in the crowd joined Eowyn and the sound was raw and heartbreaking.

When the song was over, he wanted to remain, but he knew it was his duty to lead his people back to Meduseld so that they might celebrate the life of Theoden. The time of mourning was for the burial mounds. Back in the Golden Hall, the ale would flow freely and stories of Theoden's courage and wisdom would be told.

On the return walk to Meduseld, Eowyn took the arm not of her brother, but of her betrothed and Eomer walked ahead of the crowd alone.

It seemed too much in that moment to have to let both his sister and his uncle go. After all of the loss he had suffered in his life, he wanted to rail against these latest ones, but he knew he could not. Instead, he raised his crowned head and walked up the hill to the Golden Hall.

Once everyone was seated, Eowyn brought her brother a mug of ale as he stood to address those gathered.

"If there was ever a man as strong as Theoden, I know him not," Eomer said, his clear, deep voice ringing across the hall as a hush fell. "Though he found himself shrouded in darkness and deceit, he found his way back to the man who was a source of light and courage to our family and our people. With his final acts, Theoden was able to rekindle hope with the unsheathing of his sword. Over fear and doom, he rose. Even as we mourn the loss of his life, we celebrate the glory he brought to Rohan and to our world. The people of Rohan thank our most esteemed guests for joining us in honoring the life of Theoden-King." He nodded to where the rulers of Gondor, Dol Amroth, and Ithilien sat, along with the Hobbits, Gimli, and the Elves. "Never has any king of the Mark had such company upon the road as came with Théoden, Thengel's son, to the land of his home." He raised his mug of ale and waited for the rest of the hall to do the same. "To Theoden!"

"To Theoden!" The hall rumbled as though with thunder as everyone drank to the memory of the late king.

Food was served and more barrels of ale were tapped, but Eomer sat in silence at the head table for a while.

"You must go amongst them," Eowyn said.

Eomer quickly swiped a hand over his face. "I know."

Suddenly, there was a flash in his mind of Herenya the night of Aragorn's coronation. Eomer had lamented to her how he had not wanted to attend, but she had told him he must, that he needed to be seen by the people; that it would make them think of him as charitable and diplomatic, fully capable of the role into which he had been cast.

A small smile played across his golden features at the thought of the woman he had saved in Minas Tirith. With everything going on, he had not had much time to think of her. Eomer hoped that she had made it home safely. His soldiers had reported that they had seen her to the Haradrim border with no incident and he had been glad of it.

He rose from his throne, gratefully for it was uncomfortable, and stepped down amongst the people, who began to bow to him. He waved them off and spoke to them as though they were friends. And many of them were. He had known most attendees of the funeral for almost his entire life.

Eventually, he relaxed a bit and found himself enjoying the mingling and the opportunity to hear so many stories about his uncle that he'd never heard.

The night came to a close for Eomer earlier than it had used to, but he was truly exhausted from the events over the past few days. Some had dispersed from the hall, but many more stayed to enjoy the generosity of their new, young King.

Eomer slipped away, not wanting to be seen, not wanting to be bowed to, not wanting to have the celebration come to halt on his account.

When he returned to the King's chambers, he dismissed the servants and saw to undressing himself for bed.

Again, Herenya came, unbidden, to his mind. Having her in his rooms in Minas Tirith had made them all the more a sanctuary in that very trying and confusing time. Having her in his bed…

Eomer gave a frustrated groan and bunched the blankets in his fists.

He found that though he was past exhausted, sleep eluded him that night.

ooooOoooo

The following days were spent in council meeting after council meeting. Reports were pouring in from all over the Realm of the destruction that had been done and subsequently of the impasses most communities found themselves in. There were not enough men to help with the rebuilding that would have to happen. It would be a long and slow process of bringing Rohan back to her former glory.

Eomer had surrounded himself with men he knew and trusted and they were a balm to him as he made difficult decision after difficult decision.

In other meetings, Eomer sat with Aragorn, Imrahil, Faramir, Elrond, and Celeborn. The Elves were leaving Middle Earth in droves and those that had come to Edoras were no different, but they offered wisdom that was invaluable to the Men who were trying to rebuild the world after so much darkness.

"Peace and prosperity will come once more," Elrond said, Celeborn nodding at his side. "We have seen destruction and loss before. Always, the world comes back to the light. You must rely on one another now. For too long, the Realms of Men have fought and distrusted one another. Your alliances will be of the utmost importance if you wish to lift up not only your own Realms, but all Men as well."

ooooOoooo

On the last night of their stay, Eomer put on a feast for the royal guests who had accompanied him back to Rohan to pay their respects to Theoden. Luckily, there was enough in the stores to provide lavishly enough to avoid disrespect.

It had been decided that, during what would hopefully prove to be a season of peace, what men could be spared from the royal eoreds would become farmers and go out to the villages to plant. Rohan desperately needed a successful harvest in the fall to help get the Realm back to its former glory.

"This is wonderful," Queen Arwen said in her melodic voice, once the meal was over and the musicians had taken up their instruments.

"I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your presence here, Your Majesty," Eomer replied.

He had been absolutely dazzled by the Elvish Queen and the rest of her family. Besides Legolas, he had never seen a member of the fairest race before.

Arwen was extraordinarily kind and pleasant to speak with, but Eomer found her grandmother, Galadriel, rather unsettling.

When Arwen left his side, Galadriel glided into place next to him. "Your rule shall be quite illustrious," she said in her low voice.

"You flatter me, my lady," Eomer said uneasily.

"I never flatter. I am only telling you what I have seen. These halls shall prosper once more, but there will also be pain here. Pain that you will carry with you until your death."

Without another word, she was gone. Eomer felt chilled to the bone at her words, but he tried to shake them away as Eowyn came up to him.

"Ask Lothiriel to dance, brother," she said.

"Lothiriel?"

"Yes Lothiriel," Eowyn sighed. "She has been practically begging you to ask her with her eyes all night. You have not left her line of vision."

Eomer shook his head. "Your imagination runs wild, sister."

"It does not. I could tell she was taken with you when we began this journey. She is quite kind and likeable. You never know."

He shook his head again. "I am not in the dancing mood tonight."

"Not everything is about you," Eowyn said, leaving him once more.

"Do I not know that," Eomer scoffed to her retreating back.

He stood on the outside of the celebration, talking to those who came up to him and being as polite as he could manage. He was anxious to have the Golden Hall back to himself and to get to work on all that needed to be done. Eomer could only give half of his attention to the matters at hand when he was responsible for entertaining royal emissaries as well.

"I have been thinking."

Eomer jumped and turned to see Aragorn at his shoulder. "There really is no need to move like a shadow at a celebration such as this," Eomer said with a chuckle.

"I cannot help it," Aragorn replied with a smile. "As I said, Elrond's words have got me thinking. We need alliances. We cannot afford another War."

Eomer nodded in agreement.

"Your little Haradrim friend popped into my head recently."

"Herenya?" Eomer asked, turning to the other man.

"Yes. We should offer a peace agreement to Harad. It would take away the uncertainty and anxiety of not knowing what their plans and movements are."

"It is a very good idea. Do you think they will be receptive?"

Aragorn shrugged. "I intend to write to the King and find out. If he is willing, I would suggest that we take envoys south and meet in person. If he responds favorably, I would suggest we go in a year. That will give us all time to prepare and to get things settled at home."

"I would be happy to go," Eomer said, his mind immediately skipping to Herenya, but he faltered. He would not see her even if he were to go to Harad. She had said her home was far away from the capital, in the southernmost reaches of the Realm.

ooooOoooo

Three months later, Mareke entered her father's study to find him smiling absurdly at a piece of parchment in his hand. It had been a long and difficult few months of getting the very first recovery initiatives off the ground.

"What could you possibly be so happy about?" she asked.

"We are to host a royal delegation from Gondor, Arnor, and Rohan."

Mareke's pulse quickened. "Pardon me?"

"The King of Gondor himself has written. They are extending overtures of peace and alliance with us. This is incredible!"

"Indeed it is," she said quietly.

"With the young King of Rohan in attendance, your secret will be out in the open," Hashad mused.

"Yes it will."

There you have it! As you can tell, we'll hit some bigger plot points coming up! I hope you enjoyed this update. Per usual, I'd love any feedback, constructive criticism, or ideas you have!

Happy reading,

Avonmora