Hi everyone! I can't believe we're already on chapter TEN for this story! Thank you so much to all of you who have stuck with me along the way and those who have joined more recently! I truly enjoy this one.

That being said, we all know it's going to have a sad ending. After a conversation with angel897, they expressed their interest in a story where this pair would have a happy ending. At first, nothing came to mind, but then I wondered what a role swap would look like. What if Eomer were the widower (potentially with a child)? I've put some thought into it. I'm not sure it's going to happen right now as that would mean four stories would be going at once, but perhaps when this one is over. Let me know what you think of this idea!

Enjoy!

Chapter Ten (Fourth Age 8)

Mareke blinked awake the morning after her encounter with Eomer in the gardens. She had not slept well, tossing and turning. She was not sure she would describe what she had experienced in those early morning hours as dreams or memories, but they had tormented her nonetheless.

She had seen Eomer interacting with Adnan when he was a young boy, returning from the horseback lessons, covered in sand from the desert, she had felt his hands on her waist as they had danced at the dinners.

Slowly she rose, going to the basin in the corner to wash her face before slipping into a robe.

When she entered the sitting room, she found Adnan sitting on the sofa looking over another document. He did not hear his mother and so it gave her a chance to study him.

He had a small smile playing on his features and Mareke could not help but do the same. Clearly his night had gone better than hers and she wondered if the smile was not a remnant from his time with Princess Haleth.

For all she feared what would come next for them when Adnan eventually married, she could not hide the fact that she wanted her son to be happy. He was in a much better position to do so than many of those of their stature. As an unwed King, he would ultimately be in charge of who he was to marry. It might be too much to hope for a love match, but he could certainly find someone that he liked, respected, and enjoyed among all of the eligible women that would be presented to him, if not at King Elessar's celebrations, than certainly later on. Many would be interested after they had seen how handsome he was and learned of Harad's newfound wealth and power.

"You do not look as though you feel any better," Adnan said, catching his mother in her own reverie.

"I am just tired is all," she responded. "I am not used to these long travels."

"You are acting as though you are twice your age," Adnan replied with a chuckle.

Mareke went to the sideboard and poured herself a cup of tea. "Talk to me when you are my age and undertake such a journey."

"I will be sure to do that," he replied.

"Do you not have meetings to attend?" Mareke asked her son after a few silent moments.

"Not until this afternoon. Are you trying to get rid of me, Mother?" he asked, still looking down at the document in his hand. With his quill, he scratched out a few lines and scribbled in the margins.

"Of course not, my love. I was merely curious."

After they dressed for the day and shared a light breakfast, there was a knock at the door. Mareke went to open it, waving Oyna away.

"Ah, Princess Mareke," Prince Amrothos said with a bright smile. "I am glad to see you up and about. We were worried about you last night."

Mareke waved his concern away. "I was just telling King Adnan this morning that I am merely not accustomed to such long travels. He does not understand, as he is in the flower of his youth."

Prince Amrothos laughed. "I understand that. Even the trip from Dol Amroth has become much more taxing than it used to be."

Mareke nodded. "Was there something my son or I could help you with?" she asked, when the conversation lulled.

"Oh, not particularly. I was just wondering if you would like to go on a walk through the city with me this afternoon? King Elessar promises that the market is flourishing and there are extra people in the White City to witness his celebrations."

"That would be lovely," Mareke agreed, smiling once more, glad at the prospect of leaving her rooms and getting some fresh air.

"Wonderful. I shall fetch you at three this afternoon." Prince Amrothos gave a quick bow and retreated down the corridor.

When Mareke turned around after closing the door, Adnan was looking at his mother with one dark eyebrow raised.

"Prince Amrothos seems rather interested in you," he said.

"Oh nonsense," Mareke said, shaking her head. "We spent a great deal of time together when he was in Harad, that is all. We are old friends."

"Hmm," Adnan nodded. "I am sure you are."

"Do not be inappropriate. It is unseemly for a king."

Adnan laughed. "I am not being inappropriate. Merely calling it how I see it, Mother."

Mareke shook her head once more. She did not want to dive too deeply into inappropriate behavior during the time they hosted the foreign delegations in Harad. Obviously, she did not want to discuss such things with her son, but she also did not want to think of the late nights she had shared with Eomer.

"We are old friends," she repeated. "That is all."

Adnan stood and straightened his tunic. "Whatever you say." He gathered his stack of parchment and prepared to head to his first meeting with the other leaders.

Mareke wondered if perhaps his jesting had not been to cover up his nerves.

"You will do just fine," she promised him.

Adnan took a deep breath, looking down at his mother.

"You have been preparing for this for months. You know what you have to offer. Be confident."

"It is more difficult than that," Adnan replied quietly.

"Is it? Often in your life, I might have called you arrogant," Mareke said with a teasing smile. "Surely you can at least be confident while we are here."

Adnan laughed despite himself. "Surely," he agreed.

"Now go. I cannot wait to hear all about it this evening," she said. She stretched up on her tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Have fun with Prince Amrothos," Adnan retorted with a cheeky grin.

Mareke closed the door behind her son with a sigh.

She spent the rest of her afternoon with Oyna before Prince Amrothos arrived. He was wearing a light blue tunic in the colors of Dol Amroth. His long, dark hair was pulled away from his face and Mareke could not deny that the years had been kind to him.

"This seems like those long ago days in Harad," he said, as they made their way out into the city.

"Indeed it does," she responded. "I have not had so attentive an escort since then."

"Well I am happy to be of service," he replied. "It is very good to see you again," he repeated, as he had said the night before.

"Likewise, Prince Amrothos. Ten years is far too long for friends to be apart."

"I could not agree more. Although of course it does not seem like it has been ten years. You have hardly aged a day."

"You are too kind. I only wish I could believe you. After rearing Adnan through adolescence and into adulthood, I know I have aged and it is entirely his fault."

Prince Amrothos laughed. "I do not know about all of that, but it seems as though you have done a good job."

"Thank you," Mareke said with a smile. "That is the highest compliment I ever receive."

"My niece could not stop speaking of King Adnan this morning at breakfast."

Her smile faltered briefly, but then she nodded. "Yes, I caught my son smiling to himself first thing this morning. I cannot imagine that it was the document he was looking over that caused such a thing."

"You must be ready for your son to find a wife. You have acted as a Queen for a very long time now," Amrothos mused.

Mareke nodded. "It will be nice to share some of those responsibilities." She looked up at the man beside her. "How do you think your brother would feel about sending his daughter to Harad?" she asked. "Of course, nothing is set in stone, but it would be a very large request on Adnan's part."

"Things have changed in the last decade. I am sure he would see the benefit and also the honor being bestowed upon Haleth."

Mareke nodded once more and lapsed into silence as they approached the bustling market.

Almost immediately, she regretted agreeing to come into the city. All eyes were on her as she walked among the tents and stalls.

"I have been in Harad too long," she murmured. "I have forgotten that I am so different."

Amrothos patted her hand. "Do not flatter yourself. Everyone is different in Minas Tirith. They even look down their noses at us sea dwellers."

Mareke tried to stifle a laugh, but was unsuccessful.

They spent the afternoon moseying through the market, Amrothos buying sweets for them as they went.

"This has been lovely," Mareke said, as they climbed back up to their level of the city. "I am very glad you asked me to accompany you. Otherwise, I would have spent the entire day in my chambers, bored to tears."

"I am glad you agreed to it. I enjoyed myself very much. I hope we can do this a few more times before we all depart." Amrothos turned and looked down at her, standing in the entrance hall. "I must admit, I have thought of you a good many times since my stay in Harad all those years ago."

"That is kind of you to say," Mareke said. She did not want to lie and say the same. It had not been Prince Amrothos who had visited her thoughts.

Eomer, having left the meeting with all of the other rulers, was crossing the entrance hall to return to his chambers and family when he saw the pair. He froze, watching Amrothos bend over and place a kiss on the back of Mareke's hand. The man gave her a meaningful look before he departed.

It took all of his willpower, but Eomer continued on his way rather than going to the Princess of Harad.

ooooOoooo

Later that evening, Eomer's fortitude had worn down after a few goblets of wine. While most of the guests were up and mingling, he spied Mareke at the table with the casks of wine from where he sat. Though his goblet was full, he downed it in one go and stood.

He felt Lothiriel's eyes on him and merely indicated that he would be refilling his goblet before he left.

"Ah, Eomer-King," Gimli said, seeing Eomer over Mareke's shoulder before she knew he was there. "I was just telling the Princess here how much I regretted that I was not present for the negotiations in Harad. I heard many good things from Aragorn and Princess Mareke was telling me more about her home. It seems a fascinating place."

"Indeed," Eomer said, nodding down at Mareke when she turned. "It was quite the affair."

Mareke felt heat rise to her cheeks at his choice of words.

"The Hobbits are beckoning me to join them. No doubt, they would like to lose in a drinking competition," Gimli said with a hearty laugh. "Excuse me, Your Highness, Eomer-King." He bowed to them both and left.

"Some things have not changed," Eomer said, reaching for Mareke's empty goblet and filling it from the tapped cask.

She merely raised an eyebrow in his direction, taking the goblet back.

"Prince Amrothos is still useless and available to escort you around while the rest of us are locked in the King's council chambers," he said quietly.

"I am not sure what business that is of yours," she responded, taking a drink and eyeing him over the rim of the goblet.

"I do not like it any more now than I did then," he replied.

Mareke might have found some enjoyment in his jealousy if it were not so cruel. Of what did he have to be jealous? Why would he begrudge her what bit of pleasure she had found that afternoon when his own life was so full?

"Well I am sorry you feel that way."

Eomer remained quiet for a moment, not quite realizing that he had stepped out of line.

After a moment, he tried again. "Your son was very impressive in the meetings this afternoon."

Mareke brightened at the mention of Adnan. "Truly?"

"Indeed. He was very capable. You would have never known that it was his first time in such a meeting. He represented Harad very well with his tact and strategies."

"I am very glad to hear that," Mareke responded. "Do not tell him I told you, but he was very nervous."

"I remember that feeling well from my first time here for the coronation."

"As do I," Mareke said with a smile, remembering how she had tried to bolster his courage those many years ago.

"Adnan reminded me of you, actually."

"Of me? Whatever do you mean?"

"I remember you working with your father. Even if you had to remain behind the scenes, you were very decisive and shrewd. All credit went to King Hashad, but I am positive it was you who made sure that Harad received the best possible results from those negotiations."

Mareke shook her head. "You give me far too much credit for the outcome of those talks."

"I do not think so, but regardless, your son inherited your wisdom."

"Thank you," Mareke said.

Eomer glanced back to where his wife was sitting with her family. Her grey eyes were watching him, until she was caught. "I should go," he said. "Goodnight, Princess."

ooooOoooo

A couple of days later, while on her way to the immense library of Minas Tirith, Mareke ran into Eomer and his son.

"Princess Mareke!" Eomer said, smiling. "What are you doing indoors on this lovely afternoon?"

"I was heading to the library."

"That can wait, can it not?" he asked. "We were just about to head into the gardens to get some fresh air. I have been locked away all morning."

Prince Elfwine was hanging on his father's hand and Mareke melted at the sight of the huge man with his little son. The boy smiled up at the foreign woman.

"Join us," Eomer said.

"Oh, I would not want to intrude." Mareke shook her head.

"Nonsense," Eomer waved her words away with his free hand.

"If you insist," Mareke replied, looking around her before she walked next to Eomer into the gardens.

There was still a spring chill in the air, but the sun was warm on her face and she was glad for the fragrant scent of the early blooming flowers.

"It looks as though we were not the only ones with this idea," Eomer said quietly.

When Mareke looked up at him, he nodded at a path that was running parallel to theirs. A little ways ahead of them, Adnan was walking arm-in-arm with Haleth.

Mareke watched them talking and laughing for a moment before training her eyes forward once more. "How are things coming along in the meetings?" she asked to distract herself.

"There have been some pain points," Eomer replied.

"Indeed?"

"Some of our group has grown too used to the abundance most are experiencing now and are hard put to part with it for the good of the order."

"Well would everyone not benefit from increased trade? More foreign goods in markets would mean more income for all. All around taxes on the goods could be raised if everyone is flourishing."

"Perhaps you should discuss it with your old friend, Prince Eldacar of Pelargir," Eomer said with a chuckle.

"Perhaps not." Mareke had seen the man lurking around at the festivities. It seemed as though some poor woman had married him and she looked very unhappy when Mareke had spied her at his side.

"I do not know how to convince some of them," Eomer said, looking straight ahead.

Elfwine was trailing at his side, smelling every variety of flower that he saw.

"Perhaps you might have a private meeting with Adnan; actually work out the numbers for what such a trade agreement with Harad and Rohan would look like. Show them the cost to profit and I am sure they would be interested. You have to spend money to make money, is that not what they say?"

Eomer smiled down at her. "A very good idea. I will approach your son about it tonight."

Mareke nodded and looked away from him.

Eomer could not help but feel the way he had in Harad. Mareke was wise. She would have been a fantastic ruler at his side. He had known that then and the realization still lingered.

"Princess, I shall show you my favorite fountain!" Elfwine exclaimed, coming around his father and taking Mareke's dark, tattooed hand in his own.

"It would be a pleasure, Your Highness," Mareke replied with a smile, allowing the little boy to pull her down the path a little ways ahead of Eomer.

"Look!" Elfwine exclaimed when they reached the edge of the fountain. "It is my favorite because of the fishes!"

Mareke crouched down next to him and followed his finger to the spots of bright orange that were swimming through the clear water.

Eomer had to stop a few paces away from them as his chest constricted and he found it difficult to catch his breath. To see the woman that he had loved so much with his son was nearly too much to bear. He could not count the times he had thought about the family they might have created. He had daydreamed of it nearly constantly when he was in Harad and supposed to be working on treaties and agreements.

It was all too easy to imagine a child of Elfwine's size, but perhaps a bit darker in his coloring. He could not stand to think of how much he had wanted such a thing for himself.

Eomer had not necessarily expected to see Mareke at all in Minas Tirith for the anniversary celebrations, but now that she was there every single day, the feelings had come rushing back with a force that he very nearly could not withstand.

"How wonderful," Mareke murmured. She smiled at the little boy and was immediately transported back to a time when Adnan had been that small. It had been nearly twenty years since she had smelled that distinct toddler smell of the outdoors and sweat.

She had thought to have many children, but after her husband passed that had become impossible. Very soon, she would likely be contenting herself with grandchildren if all went according to Adnan's plans.

Abruptly, as little boys often did, Elfwine took off running down the path. One of the guards that had been trailing the trio followed the little boy leaving Eomer and Mareke alone.

"He is very sweet, Eomer," Mareke said, looking after the boy until he rounded a bend in the path.

"Indeed. He must get that from his mother."

"I am not so sure, having never met her," Mareke replied. "You have a certain warmth and inclusiveness about you as well."

They lapsed into silence, both thinking of what might have been.

Eomer imagined the same family he had back in Harad, though they were ten years older in his imaginings on that afternoon in the gardens. Rather than his seven year-old daughter, there might have been a teenager waiting in his and Mareke's chambers.

He was pulled back to reality, away from the home and family he had so wanted to build a decade ago, by the sound of Elfwine wailing from a ways ahead.

The blood drained from his face and he took off at a rapid clip after his son; Mareke following close behind him.

When they found the little boy, the guard was crouched over him, though Elfwine was refusing to be touched. He clutched his arm to his chest, still screaming, tears rolling down his red cheeks.

"Elfwine, sshh, I am right here," Eomer said, immediately taking the guard's place. He looked up at Mareke with pleading eyes.

She knelt down as well. "Elfwine," she said gently. "Might I take a look at your arm?" she asked.

He shook his head adamantly, burying his face against Eomer, which only caused him to shout in pain.

"Please. We need to see it to make it feel better," she persisted, still in her gentle tone.

"Let the Princess have a look," Eomer urged his son.

Elfwine looked at Mareke warily.

"Thank you," she said quietly. As tenderly as she could, she felt up and down the boy's forearm. His crying slowed to a hiccup as he watched her closely.

"It is broken, Eomer," Mareke whispered. "He needs to see a Healer to have it set."

"Could you not do it?" he asked, desperation in his eyes.

"Me?" She shook her head. "I have not done any healing work in years."

"Please? I want him to be in the best of hands and I know those are yours."

Mareke gave a sigh, but finally nodded. "Bring him to my rooms where my things are."

Eomer lifted the boy into his arms and they hurried down the corridor until they came into her sitting room. Mareke indicated that Eomer should set the boy on one of the sofas and prop him up with enough pillows.

Oyna had come out to greet her and her eyes widened when she saw Eomer. She was quickly gone though when Mareke sent her after the necessary supplies.

Even though she had not healed anyone in a very long time, she still travelled with her things.

"Can your Papa and I take your tunic off?" Mareke asked, kneeling next to the sofa.

Elfwine nodded and Mareke began to try to strip him of his shirt without causing him any pain.

"I am so sorry," she said when the boy yelped as she tried to pull his injured arm free.

Eomer could not bear to touch his son, afraid of causing him more pain.

When Oyna returned, Mareke reached for the goblet of wine she had brought.

"Just a few tiny sips, alright? It does not taste very good, but it will make you feel much better," Mareke promised.

Elfwine grimaced and did as she bid. At his size, the wine quickly took effect and Elfwine was awake, but not quite with them.

Mareke asked Oyna to help her and Eomer watched, face drawn, wringing his hands, as the women efficiently wrapped the arm in dry linen followed by smaller strips dipped in plaster.

When it was all over, Oyna stepped away and Eomer looked down at Mareke who was still holding Elfwine's arm away from his body so that it would dry to his soft skin.

"My, my little prince. What have you done to yourself?"

They all turned to see Adnan enter the sitting rooms.

"It is not too bad, King Adnan," the boy said, much more nonchalant under the sedation of the wine.

"I can see that you are handling it all quite well. Of course, you have been seen by the best of Healers." Adnan said, stepping past Eomer to rest a hand on his mother's shoulder. "She has fixed many of my bones as well. In fact, your father was there one time when I needed a few stitches."

"Oh hush," Mareke said with a weary smile. She tested the plaster and deemed it dry enough.

"Perhaps you should take him to his mother," she said to Eomer, who was still hanging back, frightened by his son's fragility and overwhelmed by watching Mareke's tenderness. He had forgotten that he would have to return to his chambers and explain what had happened to his wife.

"You shall be right as rain with a little rest," Mareke promised, brushing Elfwine's golden hair away from his forehead.

Finally, Eomer stepped forward and once more took his son in his arms.

"Give him a little bit of wine as he needs it for the pain. There is nothing better for an injury than to sleep, do you hear me?" she asked, looking at the Crown Prince.

He nodded and rested his head on his father's broad shoulder.

"I cannot thank you enough for this, Mareke," Eomer said in a low murmur.

"It is not necessary."

He looked at her for a long moment, wanting so badly to reach for her, to hold her, to kiss her.

Adnan cleared his throat as he looked between the pair of them. With that, Eomer turned on his heel and left.

There you have it! I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter. Also take a look up top if you haven't already and give me any feedback on the next story idea that I was presented with. As always, please send ideas and headcanons my way too.

Happy reading,

Avonmora