A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I love them all! And thanks again to Rosie26!


Éowyn

Éomer was early, arriving just a little while after Faramir and I had eaten lunch. My brother and I were both beyond words at the happiness that we felt to see each other again, and he immediately picked me up and hugged me as he always had, swinging me around him and laughing aloud. Never had he been more welcome.

"Where is your husband?" he asked me as he set my feet back upon the floor, and though he yet smiled, I knew from the look in his eye that he was genuinely concerned about Faramir.

"He is relaxing on the balcony with one of his more boring tomes, Éomer," I told him.

"What happened to him?" my brother asked, growing more serious, and I led him to a nearby couch, where we sat so I could tell him the lengthy story of all that had befallen Faramir since last Éomer had beheld my husband. My brother listened intently, never interrupting me once, and when I was finished, he nodded. "It is well that he has chosen to retire from combat, for he has seen enough of it for ten lifetimes. He has more than proven his valor." He smiled again. "Now he can see to you more often!" he teased, and I blushed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

"Shall we go visit him now?" I asked him.

"Nay, let him read. I shall see him later, and I would like to spend some time with you, Sister. How are you?"

"I am well, Éomer."

"But you are worried," he said.

"About what?"

"About being a mother. You did not have much training with children as you grew, after all."

My brother could almost always judge my mood correctly. I smiled slightly and then nodded. "I am nervous, yes. But I have many friends to help me, and thank the Valar, I still have a loving husband as well. I do worry, though, that I yet shall be left behind ofttimes with the children when they are yet too young to travel, and Faramir has need to come to Minas Tirith on business."

"Perhaps you shall not care that you are left behind, Éowyn. Perhaps you shall view it differently when the first babe arrives."

"Perhaps," I mused. "I must admit that it is all so new to me that it does not seem real yet."

Éomer nodded. "It shall seem real soon enough, I deem. I cannot wait to hear a little voice calling me Uncle Éomer, though!" he laughed.

"I hope to be able to raise the child to ride as well as his Uncle Éomer."

"Ah, that reminds me. I should like for you to come home to Edoras soon after your son arrives, so you can choose his first mount."

I nodded to him formally and said gravely, "The King of the Mark is most generous."

He punched me playfully upon my arm. "Stop that!" Then, with a teasing scowl upon his face, he added in a quiet voice, "You act and sound more like Faramir every day."

I smiled at him and stood, offering him my hand which he took with a brief squeeze, as he rose with me. "In honor of your arrival, we are having guests for dinner."

"Oh?"

"Aye. Prince Imrahil and his daughter Lothíriel will be joining us."

Éomer looked quite uncomfortable at the mention of her name, and I thought for a short moment that perhaps she had been right, and he truly did not care for her. "I had completely forgotten that they were here in Minas Tirith. How fares the Prince of Dol Amroth?"

"Uncle is well as always. I think that my husband and I should not have made it through the past month without his support and that of Lothíriel. Their devotion to Faramir is unwavering."

"And to you as well, I should imagine," he said. "But I thought you said they were staying here at the steward's residence with you. . . ."

"They were, but Uncle decided that Faramir and I deserved more privacy than their presence could allow, so he rented some rooms at an inn on the fourth circle."

Éomer nodded, and then his attention was drawn to the staircase, and I turned to see my husband slowly descending the stairs, a broad smile upon his face. "Brother!" roared the king, standing abruptly, and the prince replied in kind, Éomer meeting him upon the landing.

He grasped Faramir's left arm in a warrior's handshake as my husband's other arm still rested in a sling, before Faramir pulled Éomer into a brotherly embrace, stating with a smile, "I know that I do not look it, but I can withstand one of your hugs, Éomer!" There was much backslapping but few words as they remained thus for well over a minute, and I knew from Faramir's bittersweet expression that he was thinking of his brother Boromir.

When they at last released one another, Éomer said, "I am glad to see that you are well, Faramir."

"Not so much as I! Look not so grave, Éomer! Truly, I am well! I just wait for the bones to wholly mend now, and then I shall be as good as ever I was. Éowyn has seen to that with her marvelous bedside demeanor!"

Éomer laughed when he turned to see me waiting below, blushing so thoroughly under my husband's gaze. It never fails to delight him that Faramir has that power over me, I suppose. I know that it has never failed to delight me in any event.


Éomer

It was very good to see Éowyn again. I noticed immediately that she looked exhausted and decided at first that it must be because of her condition. But when I heard the whole of her news about Faramir, and then at last saw him in person, I knew that she probably had not been sleeping well out of anxiety for him. Though they both assured me that he was doing much better than he had been, I was shocked by how much weight he had shed since last I had seen him and how pale his face was. It was plain that Èowyn had not exaggerated when she spoke of how close the man had come to death, and it was reassuring to see him alive and even smiling with a happy glow in his eyes, no less, though it was difficult to quell the urge to demand that he sit down immediately, so thin and drawn was his face. He sensed my unease at his condition, though, and did his best to put my fears to rest.

I smiled as Éowyn took him in hand and led him to the couch that she and I had just abandoned, and even as he scowled slightly, he patiently endured her attentions, and I marveled at the depth of the affection that he felt for my sister even as he explained softly to her that he did not require any cosseting. With a look, she quieted his complaining, and he smiled at her, drawing her down onto the cushion next to him.

"It is well that you have at last learned your place, Lord Steward, for the sister of this king is no one to argue with," I laughed.

Faramir's face colored briefly as he realized how closely I had been watching them, but he smiled. "I am yet learning, but I do know that arguing with your fair sister is far from pleasant."

"Far from pleasant?" I laughed louder at his words. "That is a diplomatic way of stating the obvious, I suppose. I would have simplified and said that arguing with Éowyn is less pleasant than having a toothache at a seven-day feast!"

"Hmm," said Faramir, smiling while at the same time looking at his wife from the corner of his eye. "Your words are definitely less diplomatic than mine, Brother."

Éowyn's eyes narrowed at me, and I expected for a moment that she might leap from the couch and punch me as she would have when we were younger, but Faramir deftly handled her with some soft caresses upon her hand that he held. "I am so happy that you invited Éomer here to visit, love. I very much enjoy watching you both interact with one another," he told her honestly. Any remaining annoyance that she might have felt toward either of us disappeared immediately, and as she smiled at him, I shook my head, yet amazed by their relationship.

"Jealous, Brother?" asked Éowyn, and I scoffed at her even as I realized that indeed I was envious that she had found happiness, and I had not, nor might I have the opportunity since the King of the Mark did not marry for love or happiness.

After Éowyn had some refreshments delivered to us, we all spoke together for the remainder of the afternoon, and our conversation eventually turned to the current happenings at the River Poros. Faramir told me that there had been little news since he and Èowyn had returned to the White City. King Elessar had remained behind with a small army to repel any further attacks upon Gondorian soil, but he was having a great deal of trouble finding any Haradrim that were willing to speak with him about the possibility of peace talks between the two countries.

I thought it doubtful that peace could ever be realized between Gondor and Harad, but Faramir was optimistic and told me that he had even begun outlining a rough draft of a treaty, hoping to be prepared when at last the Haradrim agreed to speak with them. And he had been studying their language as well, so he might be even better prepared if the time arrived.

"You are incredible, Brother," I said.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Why do you say that?"

"After all you have been through at the hands of those beasts, you are still willing to give them another chance."

"But there are so many other people to consider besides myself. People in South Gondor are starving to death, for neither Gondor nor Harad have taken the responsibility of ruling over such an arid and unfruitful land. I feel that if we can win over the inhabitants of South Gondor by providing them with the means to support themselves at a reasonable standard, we can win them over to our side. Harad would have to reconsider their invasion of the land if the people who lived there were against it and willing to fight to maintain freedom from the tyranny of which the Haradrim are capable. After all, Harad no longer has the resources that they once held now that they have not the support of Mordor, and if they pursue their invasion of South Gondor, they may find themselves faced with a situation for which they are little prepared."

"Faramir, your faith in people amazes me. Were I the King of Gondor and there was a border dispute with the Haradrim, I would send forth every soldier that I owned and make certain that the Southrons would be unable to dispute it again."

"Raw force is not always the answer, Éomer," he said.

"I think, though, that with the Haradrim, it is, since they have been attacking their northern neighbors for centuries."

"And your opinion is one that is popular among our people and many of our military advisors, but I think that if Gondor were to take the noble path, by providing aid instead of more death and destruction, we should reap the benefits."

At that moment a servant entered the room and announced the arrival of Prince Imrahil and Lady Lothíriel, and we all stood as they came in, Imrahil and I greeting each other like old friends.

"Éomer-King, you remember my daughter, Lothíriel?"

My gaze shifted to her as I nodded. She was almost exactly as I had remembered her: a petite girl with her long, black hair hanging loosely about her face, and pretty, green eyes. But there was something different about her this time. I was very surprised to find that she was looking up at me with an expression that was not scornful or haughty for once. In truth, I was bewildered, for always I had assumed that she did not care for my company.

"Lady Lothíriel," I said politely, taking her tiny hand in mine, brushing my lips over the backs her fingers before I released her.

"Lord Éomer," she murmured, her green eyes dancing with pleasure. "I am happy to see that you are looking well." I knew she was only being nice, for I had come directly to the steward's residence from the stables and had not taken the opportunity to wash the dust of the road from myself yet, but I politely nodded in acknowledgment of her words. "I was glad when Èowyn told me that you would be arriving today, but we had not expected you so soon!"

She is glad that I am here? That is odd indeed. "My men and I had agreeable weather for the whole of the journey, and the road was in good repair as well." She nodded as if she expected me to continue. "You are looking well also, my lady," I said, wondering if that was what she was hoping for.

"Thank you," she murmured, and then I noticed how attractive she looked in the yellow frock that she was wearing.

Prince Imrahil spoke, "I fear we are a bit early, but I had hoped that Lord Éomer might have arrived early, and here he is!"

"Uncle," said Éowyn, "I wonder if you might come with me to the kitchen. I have something there that I would like your opinion about."

"Of course, Éowyn!" said Imrahil, and I looked at my sister suspiciously, knowing that she was up to something. She took the prince by the arm, and they quickly left the room. I glanced over at Faramir, who was seated once again upon the couch, but he seemed ignorant of any ulterior motives that Éowyn might have had.

"Will you not both sit somewhere and take your ease?" he asked, and I sat again where I had been resting before. Though there were many places to sit in the large room, Lothíriel sat right next to me. Though she is tiny, her closeness made me nervous. "Thíri, is that a new gown?" asked Faramir.

"Oh, yes, I bought it only this morning." She stood and turned. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, it is very fetching!" said the steward with enthusiasm, and then I cringed when I realized that she was looking at me, expecting a comment.

"What do you call that color?" I asked, for of a sudden, I knew not what else to say.

"It is yellow," she said, looking at me with an odd expression.

I nodded. "It is pretty," I told her, before looking down at the floor. She sat down silently next to me again.

After a moment, she said, "I bought eight new gowns this morning in a rainbow of hues."

"I look forward to seeing them all, Thíri," said Faramir with a smile. Damn him. The man can hold an animated conversation with someone who has no mouth. I looked to her and realized that she was looking expectantly at me again.

"I cannot remember the last time that I had any new clothes made for myself," I said at last. "I find that I do not require more than seven days worth of clothes since wash day still comes around once a week!" I laughed.

"But do you not grow tired of wearing the same clothes over and over, my lord?" she asked me in a tone that was just barely civil.

I shrugged. "I do not think about it, for it is unimportant."

Finally the expression that I was used to seeing upon her face made its appearance. "It is unimportant to you maybe, but clothing and looking fashionable are important to me."

The steward spoke when he noticed that we were, as usual, not getting along. "Thíri, not everyone has your enthusiasm for fashion. The King of Rohan must wear practical clothing as he has much in his kingdom that requires him to work with his hands. I should not think that he would want to be dressed in silk when foaling horses." It was a valid argument, and I thanked him with a nod.

"Nor would he wish to wear silk when drinking ale, I suppose," she muttered as she rose and ran from the room.

"What did I say?" asked Faramir, genuinely confused, but he could not have been more confused than I. With a shrug, I resumed our conversation about the Haradrim, and the steward, though he seemed concerned about his cousin's mood, could not stop himself from further debating me.


Lothíriel

When Daddy and I entered Fara and Éowyn's great hall, it was obvious that Fara and Lord Éomer had been discussing politics, for Fara always gets a flush upon his face when he is speaking passionately about something in which he believes wholeheartedly. But as we were announced, the conversation ended, and we entered the room, finding them all upon their feet.

Daddy went straight to the king and they clasped hands enthusiastically. Lord Éomer was just as I had remembered him from the last time I saw him, tall and handsome with flowing waves of sun-bleached, blond hair that hung halfway down his back which provided a wildness to his look that was both intimidating and endearing at the same time, though he was quite dusty as usual. I heard Daddy ask if the king remembered me. Lord Éomer looked upon me with his warm, brown eyes, his expression blank at first as he nodded, but his eyes seemed to soften when I smiled at him as never I had before, and then he looked utterly confused.

Gently he took the hand that I offered him, and he kissed it briefly, softly saying my name with his richly-accented voice before he released it. I said, "Lord Èomer, I am happy to see you looking well." For some reason his brow furrowed a little more at me, and I wondered if perhaps I had a spot of something upon my face. Unwilling to be turned from my purpose by his seeming distraction, I continued, saying, "I was glad when Éowyn told me that you would be arriving today, but we had not expected you so soon!"

Obviously you have said the wrong thing, Lothíriel, I thought as the lines across his brow deepened even further. But at least he finally spoke, saying something about the weather, and I nodded, hoping to encourage him. "You are looking well also, my lady," he finally added. It was merely a polite statement, but it was more than I had expected from him in truth. I thanked him though, and his expression cleared as his contemplative gaze lingered upon me until Daddy interrupted our exchange.

Éowyn, bless her, coaxed Daddy away into the kitchen, and Lord Éomer and I were left alone with Fara, though the King of Rohan looked positively discomfitted now, looking over at my cousin with a somewhat calculating expression upon his features. Fara, though, seemed completely unaware of the conversation that I had held with his wife that morning, and asked, "Will you not both sit somewhere and take your ease?"

The king sat stiffly upon the couch that was directly behind him and so I sat next to him, but that seemed to make him uncomfortable as he glanced toward me momentarily and then placed his hands upon his knees as if he did not quite know what to do with them. Luckily, Fara asked me then about the dress that I was wearing, and I then had the opportunity to rise and show it to them.

"Do you like it?" I asked, hoping that Lord Èomer would say something romantic about it, but Fara answered first while the king sat without expression, looking almost everywhere in the room but at me.

Oaf! The thought came into my mind unbidden as I looked down upon this man who obviously cared not a thing about me. I saw him wince when his eyes finally met mine again, and I carefully tried to keep my face impassive as he asked, completely serious, "What do you call that color?"

"It is yellow." Oaf!

But he nodded and told me that it was pretty, and with that comment, he redeemed himself, though he looked like an animal caught in a trap, searching for any means of escape. Slowly I sank back down next to him, hoping not to alarm him further with any sudden action.

As it seemed that Lord Éomer had naught else to add to the conversation, I looked to Fara and told him that I had bought eight gowns in various colors at my favorite dress shop, and he smiled, saying that he could not wait to see them, whereas, when the king deigned to pay attention to us again, he said, "I cannot remember the last time that I had any new clothes made for myself. I find that I do not require more than seven days worth of clothes since wash day still comes once a week!" He laughed as if he had made a hilarious joke, and I felt that he was only making fun of me. Worst of all Fara smiled at the king's comment, though he looked at me apologetically.

"Do you not grow tired of wearing the same clothing again and again, my lord?" I asked.

Lord Éomer shrugged. "I do not think about it, for it is unimportant."

"It is unimportant to you maybe, but clothing and looking fashionable are important to me."

Fara then butted in, spouting some nonsense about horses, which did not surprise me in the least, since he was a man, and I could not help but make a snide comment about ale before I stood, and without a word went to find Daddy and Éowyn in the kitchen.

They were sitting at a small table, sipping wine, and speaking animatedly. I approached them and flung myself into the chair between them. "This is hopeless!" I wailed.

"What has happened, Thíri?" asked Éowyn as Daddy rested his palm upon my back.

"He hates me."

"Thíri, you have barely spoken to the man," said Daddy.

"There is no manner in which Èomer could hate you," Éowyn stated. "Perhaps he does not understand you, but my brother could never hate you."

"I am not so certain."

"Invite him to go riding upon the Pelennor with you tomorrow," she offered. "Take a picnic lunch, and make a day of it. I know that he shall have a good time doing that, for there is naught that he likes better than to go riding, and he loves to eat."

"What if he does not wish to join me?"

Éowyn shrugged. "Then he is a fool, or a loud oaf--was that what you said, Uncle?"

Daddy nodded and laughed as I blushed, embarrassed that he had told Éowyn what I thought of her brother, though Éowyn was laughing as well.

"Thíri, both Éowyn and I only want you to be happy, but I think that the King of Rohan might be a good match for you. Please, do not give up too easily."

I sighed. "All right, Daddy."

"I shall see that your picnic consists of his favorites," said Èowyn, and I felt a little better, as she stood up. "Do not forget to ask him tonight, though," she added, and I grew nervous at the thought of spending an entire day alone with a man who seemed to have naught in common with me. I hoped that it might pass quickly.