Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. It all belongs to Professor Tolkien. The only things I gain are the reviews.

Summary: Alternate Ending to 'Children and Fellowships'. What if Natasha had been pulled back to her own world?

Chapter Two – Eomer

Lothiriel's Point of View

This is not fair.

I know it sounds childish to say that, but it is true.

In fairytales and stories, when the king/prince/hero is dying, it is always either swearing vengeance on his killer or with the name of his wife/fiancée/the fair princess on his lips.

My husband, Eomer, King of Rohan, is dying. He cannot swear vengeance upon the passage of time, as he is now ninety-two, but nor does he call my name, or think of me as he lies there. Perhaps it is foolish of me to think that he would, but a woman can dream, can she not?

I was little more than half of Eomer's age when we married, Seventeen to his Thirty. It was a marriage to secure an alliance between Rohan and Dol Amroth. In truth, no such marriage was required, for the friendship between Eomer and my father was strong.

Eomer was young when he became king after his uncle, King Theoden, was killed in the war of the ring. I had thought that with so many years ahead of us that he may grow to love me, even to only a fraction of the extent that he loved the bitch who claimed and stole his heart.

It is cruel, and wrong of me, but I do not care. I am glad that she was killed by orcs, even if Eomer came close to following her into death. The worst of it was that most of Rohan, not to mention a large portion of Minas Tirith, mourned her passing as though they would a Queen or life-long friend, rather than someone they had known for less than a year. After all, she was only a common-born girl, who probably tried to seduce Eomer in the hopes of improving her station.

I think that almost every day, every time Eomer gets that strange expression on his face and looks into the distance, as though seeing something that no one else could. I think it every time that my husband turns to say something to me, then stops and I see something flash in his eyes and know that he wanted to say it to her instead. I curse her every time I see him looking at the sketch book that he and Lady Eowyn had made, knowing that it's pages are filled with a tall woman with green eyes and unruly auburn hair.

I have only voiced these sentiments once, however. After that I never dared to.

It was shortly before the birth of our son, Prince Elfwine. I was the Queen, and carried the heir of Rohan. That prompted me to over-estimate my importance to King Eomer. He had been withdrawn lately, almost brooding. I had heard my sister-in-law explaining her theory to her husband, saying that Eomer had never forgotten her and was thinking of all the might-have-beens if she had stayed. That night, I had confronted Eomer about it. He told me that it was none of my concern and turned away. I lost my temper and told him exactly what I thought of both her and of the effect it was having on him. I still shiver at the memory of his reaction.

My husband went very still and I wondered if I had gone too far. I had. Eomer's voice could have frozen the fires of Mount Doom and sent a balrog running for cover.

I remember his words as though they had been spoken mere hours ago. "Do not seek to raise yourself by condemning her, Lothiriel. Our marriage is one of convenience, which I am still sure was your idea, rather than Lord Imrahil's. I married for duty, because Rohan needed an heir. Had it been otherwise I would have remained unwed." I started to turn away, but he grasped my wrist, pulling me back. "You wished to be blunt on the matter, I will do the same. Natasha will always be in my heart and my mind and nothing will change that."

I slept alone that night, as I have every night since the birth of our son.

Even now, I silently curse the woman who Eomer has never stopped loving.

Eowyn's Point of View

My brother is dying, although to be honest, I wonder that he has lived this long. We all feared that we would lose him as well when Natasha was taken back to her own world. Many would wonder at the choice of words: 'taken', not 'returned'. I say taken because Natasha had made a choice to stay in this world. Lothiriel once asked in private if she could have returned because her choice was insincere. Hardly, one had only to see the look of horror and anguish on her face as some unseen force pulled her, trying to fight it and stay with us, with Eomer.

Worst of all was the fact that this happened only weeks after Natasha had accepted Eomer's offer of marriage.

You know I had worried when Eomer asked for a last request. Most of the time when someone asks that you know that the request will be something silly, like 'build me a coffin of gold and throw it into the sea'. Not this time. He only asked that we bury him in the House of Death that was made for Natasha, so that if they could not be together in life, they would be so in death.

I hope that they will be. There was never anyone else for either of them and I know that Eomer has never loved Lothiriel, and even the small regard he had for her was lost when she told him (And the rest of the city, who could hear her yelling) what she thought of my friend.

There are few who could ever imagine my brother as an artist, but in one instance it is true. There are whole books filled with sketches of her.

Natasha riding with Eomer, smiling up at him. The two of us sparring, her face intense with concentration. Natasha running in a meadow, playing a game of catch with a group of children. She was one of the few women I knew who could get completely filthy without cringing at each speck of dirt.

Natasha and Eomer in the rose gardens of Minas Tirith, where he had proposed to her, or dancing together, or just sitting together, laughing and talking. My personal favorite is the one which captured the expression on my Husband and brother-in-law's faces on the occasions when they caught Natasha and Eomer alone together.
Is that look exclusive to the House of Hurin, or a universal expression when protective brothers catch baby sister and her boyfriend in such a situation?

Natasha told me something once, when I was trying to decide if a single meeting was enough to make a decision on a relationship, even if both participants were obviously in love with each other. She told me not to rush, that "It is lack of friendship, not lack of love, that makes for an unhappy marriage. Get to know him before you decide."

Natasha was the best friend I ever had, despite our many differences, and I hope that I will one day see her again. I probably will, but if not, I will content myself with the knowledge that there is no way any power could keep them apart in soul, so they will meet again.

Elfwine's Point of View

My family sits around my father's deathbed. My aunt Eowyn sits on one side and my mother at the foot of the bed. I sit opposite my aunt with my wife, Gilraen, daughter of King Elessar, and my two children, Natasha and Theoden.

Theoden was the name of my Grandmother's brother, my father's uncle. Natasha is a name that I hear often, but is rarely spoken out loud for some reason. My father suggested the name when she was born, for after only a few days, her eyes darkened to green and her hair became a rarely seen brown colour, which singled her out in a race that was mostly blond.

Even as he lies dying, we can sometimes make out father whispering that name, his voice filled with love, joy and sorrow, along with an anger directed at something unknown. The Natasha my father calls to died long before I was born. Most people say that she was killed by orcs, but my father, my aunt and uncle, my uncle's brother and my father-and-mother-in-law all hint at something else.

My mother never speaks of her, but frowns when she is mentioned. My aunt was friends with her, and claims that Mother is jealous that Natasha still holds my father's heart.

From what I do know of her, Natasha was of Common birth, a young woman just short of twenty when she arrived in these lands. She had auburn hair, green eyes and a gift with children. My aunt, my father's sister, stated that she also had a talent for looking past what one was and seeing who one was.

She was said to be a rarity amongst women: bright, quick-witted and gentle, yet intimidating, along with a bizarre sense of humour. She was ordinary and liked it that way, but that did not stop her from loving my father, prepared to give up everything for him, nor did it stop him from falling for her in return.

My parents' marriage is an arranged one, and neither of them are what you could term happy in it. Mother was in love with the idea of my father; while Father has never stopped loving the woman he calls for. I have it on very good authority that my parents have not even shared the same bed since I was conceived. The servants know almost everything, after all.

There are times when I wonder what it would have been like if Natasha had lived. Would I have siblings? Probably.Would my parents be happier if they were not married to each other? I don't know aboutMother, but the general opinion is that Father certainly would.I will never know for sure, but there is no harm in dreams.

Eomer's Point of View

I will die soon, but the thought does not fill me with pain or fear. Rather, I feel a sense or relief and coming peace.

My greatest hope is that I will be reunited with the only woman I could ever truly love.

I thought I would die when Natasha was lost, and the healers tell me that I nearly did. My sister brought me back by using a fair amount of emotional blackmail, saying that Natasha would not wish me dead.

I eventually married Lothiriel of Dol Amroth because it was pointed out that Rohan needed an heir. But I have never loved her.

Natasha once said that it is lack of friendship, not lack of love, which makes for an unhappy marriage. I could get out of it by saying that Lothiriel and I never knew each other, but the fact is that I never had room in my heart for anyone else.

I first met Natasha after the battle of Helm's Deep. She did not come running to cheer for the riders who barely made it in time for the battle, but busied herself caring for the children who had been hidden in the caves or survived fighting in the battle. That intrigued me, as did her muttered remarks about 'dramatic entrances' and 'useless, fawning airheads'.
My love for her only grew over time. Unlike most women that I had hoped to be friends with, Natasha did not immediately expect a marriage proposal after a few days of knowing each other. She was willing to accept friendship, and to get to know each other first. She also understood and accepted that there would be times when duty would have to come first, when I would have to put her after something else. Lothiriel could not, and often tried to raise a fuss about it.

Eowyn once said that friends will laugh with you in the good times, but a best friend is the one who will hold you and cry with you during the bad. Natasha barely knew my uncle, but she held me, rocking me as she would one of the children she looked after. She said nothing, no empty words of comfort. I asked why, and she stated that "I am not going to say I know what you are going through, because I don't. I am not going to tell you that everything will be fine, because I don't know that it will. I think too much of you to insult you like that."

My sight begins to darken, but in the distance a light begins to form. A light in which a familiar face smiles at me, a calm, loving gaze.

Her name escapes my lips for the last time as I begin to let go. "Natasha."

Then everything is pure light, except for a single person, who holds out her hand, and leads me away.

3rd person Point of View

Even as life begins to flee from the body of King Eomer of Rohan, a shimmer began in the air nearby.

It consolidated, weaving together to form a tall young woman with dark hair and green eyes.

She is wearing an embroidered forest-green tunic that falls to her knees over a long white dress. A chain of intricately wrought silver adorns her neck. There is a ring on her forth finger as she walks over to the bed and touches the still face. She turns to give Eowyn a fleeting smile, then looks back, studying the man's face intently.

His eyes flutter open as he sees her. A single word escapes his lips, her name.

Then he is gone, and a figure, translucent as the young woman, rises from the bed.

It is Eomer as he was before he became king, as a young man of twenty-seven. He is dressed in the armour of the Rohirrim, although his head is uncovered. He takes the young woman's hand and smiles at her. "Natasha." She says nothing, only smiles. "I said we would meet again."

Now the young woman speaks, finishing the sentence. "In this life or the next. Now come, for our time in this life has ended."

They begin to fade, and soon they are gone, leaving a room of people sitting there, wondering at what had just happened.

A/N – So, the Alternate ending is finished! The sequel to 'Children and Fellowships' is in the process of being written, but I have to go to a wedding this weekend so I am not sure when it will be posted. I am thinking of turning the 'Children and Fellowships' universe into a series. Can anyone think of a good name?

Review and tell me what you think.

Thank you, everyone!

Nathalia