AUTHOR'S NOTE:

According to the Appendixes of ROTK, Théoden is buried on August 10, 3019. Eowyn and Faramir are wed in 3020, and Eomer and Lothíriel are wed the next year, the last year of the Third Age. In this story, I'll assume that E&F were wed in May, Lothíriel came to Rohan in June, and right now we're in September. That is, Eomer has been King of Rohan for a year. I have a year to make them fall in love and get married, according to canon! Will I make it? Stay tuned!

If you have comments about the timeline, please, your words will be very much appreciated.

I appreciate and thank all reviews!

THE JEWEL OF DOL AMROTH

VII

WHAT LETTERS CAN DO FOR A LONELY HEART

Faramir's letter had the most wonderful of news. Eowyn was expecting their first child! Lovely thoughts began to burst out of Lothíriel's mind. She loved babies very much, as Alphros could guarantee, having been given a lot of hugs and kisses and lullabies from his aunt ever since he was born. Babies and books, those were her weaknesses.

Then there were Ceolwyn's words. She had felt lonely these past days, since her father had departed to Minas Tirith and her brothers were on duty. Her mind suddenly traveled to Rohan, to the Golden Hall, to the young king, surrounded by advisors, soldiers and servants… and as lonely as her. How could she have been so selfish? Lothíriel had promised indeed to write, hadn't Eomer asked her to do so? Ceolwyn was so painfully right.

She took a quill and a parchment, and began to write.

"Another letter to be sent to Dol Amroth?" asked an amused Eothain. "Hild and I are quite intrigued by this suddenly letter exchanging of yours. You never were keen on writing."

"You're right, dear friend" answered Eomer, smiling and putting out his quill. "However, the writings of lady Lothíriel are so delightful that it is almost impossible not to reply them. Besides, she enjoys my stories. Writing to her is one of the few things I can do in my leisure time. Would you deny me that?"

"Perhaps you write now more for necessity than for leisure." Eothain pointed out.

"Nonsense. It is just a pastime and nothing more."

After the Marshall left his office, Eomer wondered if, after all, his friend was right. From the very moment of Lothíriel's departure he had felt a deep void in his heart, a void with the memory of his lost family. The Golden Hall felt so empty without his uncle and his cousin. Eowyn had promised to visit, but she had a husband to take care of and a house to manage. The lively and smart Princess had filled that void for a while, and now she was gone, perhaps for good.

Then, out of the blue, a letter came. She wrote, as she had promised. Her words were cheerful, her tales amusing, her descriptions of the sea intriguing. Moreover, she wanted to know more about him. Eomer had to recognize that he wrote at least ten drafts before he wrote the definitive reply to the Princess. Yes, he was well and thankful for her letter, the plans for the safety of Aldburg were being executed, how fared the Prince and his eldest sons? And so on.

He had just finished the reply for the fourth letter. He read it carefully for one last time, before sending the letter to the messenger, who would carry it to the hand of Imrahil's daughter.

"… My heart has longed to see my sister, after the joyful news of her pregnancy. In two weeks I will have an opportunity to travel and visit her and my brother-in-law at their home in Ithilien. And now that your letter tells me you had a similar idea, I will be most pleased to meet you and recall our discussions at Edoras… Do not fret, dear Princess, for we will not have those early meetings again; all that I need is your counsel, as the trusted friend of mine that you have become these pasts months…"

Was it too forward? In these months, he had begun to consider her a friend, as she considered him. He admired her, respected her opinions, and sought her counsel.

There was something else, thought. She was beautiful, well mannered, and a Princess after all. An idea had appeared in his mind, some weeks ago. Perhaps…

No, no. How could he betray her trust?

It was afternoon when Eomer and his Royal Guard came to the house of the Prince of Ithilien. It was a beautiful stone building, surrounded by nature, and its frontal gardens gave off a sheer fragrance. His sister was standing at the doorway, in the same fashion as she used to stand at the entrance of the palace of Meduseld, a long time ago in Edoras. Her expression, those days, was of waiting, of resignation, of hidden sorrow. Oh, those days. There was none of those dreadful feelings in her face. Only love for her husband and happiness for the new life she would bring into the world. Faramir was beside her, holding her hand lovingly.

"Hail, King of the Mark", he said out loud. "Our home is graced with your presence. It has been a long time, brother".

Eomer and Faramir clasped arms and embraced. Eowyn beamed, and threw herself into his brother's arms.

"My dear Eomer!" she said. "Thank Béma you are well-cleaned", she added, giving him a praising look.

"You are the only sister that can welcome a brother with those words" laughed Eomer, as the three entered the house.

After he changed his traveling clothes for some elegant robes, he sat with them in a large room. There was some food in trays, and a maid came to serve tea. Eowyn had taken a liking in growing things, and she told his brother she had planted some herbs in her private gardens, and prepared special blends of tea with them. Faramir told him about his efforts in order to make again of Ithilien the garden of Gondor, and to keep the land free of some orc gangs that were seeking food. It seemed that Ithilien was soon becoming a great place to live, since some of the elves of the former Mirkwood had moved to the land and felt comfortable in it.

While her husband spoke, Eowyn looked at him reverently, her eyes never leaving him. It was such a joy for Eomer to know that finally his sister had a blissful life, away from pain and menaces. Faramir was indeed a good man, and his love had helped her abandon her fears and become confident and more beautiful than she was already.

"Faramir, Eowyn, forgive me for my absence. I could not stop until I finished that book…" said suddenly a soft voice that Eomer knew well. Faramir laughed.

"It is alright, dear cousin, since our guest has just arrived. I'm sure that he will be quite pleased to see you."

Eomer turned around, and his heart missed a beat when he found himself face to face with the Princess of Dol Amroth. She was wearing a simple pink dress, and her wavy hair was only held by a loose ribbon. He remembered well she was not keen on using jewels, and even so, she looked so regal, so elegant, so elven… Béma, she was a glorious sight.

Perhaps he was staring too long, because Lothíriel had a faint blush on her cheeks. The married couple was looking at the pair, quite amused by the exchange.

"My lady", he said at last, bowing and kissing her hand.

"My lord king", she replied, her eyes not leaving his. Eowyn and Faramir both laughed.

"But Eomer, Lothi, you are family now!" Faramir said at last. "No formalities needed, right darling?" He said to Eowyn. Both Lothiriel and Eomer blushed crimson.

"Well" said Lothiriel, with a shy smile. "It is nice to see you, Eomer".

"It is nice to see you too."

But of course, they were family! Was he so absorbed in his duties that he had overlooked that detail? Perhaps she had been wondering when he would stop being so formal and called her by her name. It felt wonderful, thought, to say her name. He had always called her Lothíriel in his heart, whenever he thought of her. And Lothíriel she was for him, since this moment.

She had been expecting anxiously for him to come, devouring some of Faramir's book to spend the time. However, the moment Lothíriel looked at Eomer, she wished he had not come so early. He looked so gorgeous that she thought she was come to faint of the impression. Her wheat-colored hair was neat and tidy and his beard well trimmed. The moment he had kissed her hand, she had felt those unmistakable tickles she hated to admit she missed. And his eyes bore that characteristic strong look, bold yet sincere, defiant yet amiable, proud yet respectful. No wonder he was a leader of Men. The memory of his eyes had earned him her trust.

Faramir was right, though. They were cousins by marriage, and she had been always so formal with him. Lothíriel had always thought it was the right thing to do, since he was a king. Even so, she found with surprise that she called him by his name in her mind, while she sewed his robes. The robes… she wondered if he had brought them.

Eowyn's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I will have you rest today, dear brother, for Faramir and I have prepared for tomorrow a little feast in your honor. Do not worry" she added hastily at the gloomy looks of Eomer "it will be something simple, not like the Gondorian parties Elessar has accustomed us to…"

Her words made Lothíriel laugh a little. She would have loved to stay and talk to Eomer, but her sense of propriety told her it was not right, since they would be alone. Then again, her thoughts were interrupted.

"Perhaps Lothíriel can show you the nearby gardens. Would you, Lothi?" Faramir said.

"I'd love to, cousin" was her answer. She could swear Faramir had winked. What was the matter with him?

Arm in arm, they were walking through a large greenhouse, next to the building. Both of them where wearing cloaks; Eomer's was green, and Lothíriel's was grey. It was dark, but the moon bathed the land in its light.

They had talked about everything, mainly politics, their encounter in the Barrowfield, and the upcoming baby. They had laughed, argued, smiled to each other. Lothíriel felt so free like she had never felt in her entire life, and her trust for this man was increasing. And although she had promised to herself not to mention the "heiress" issue on her trip, the idea of telling Eomer about it began to appear in her mind. No, she said to herself. He can do nothing to help me.

The words escaped from her mouth before she could stop them.

"Eomer, you know I trust you very much… would you keep a secret?"

He looked at her, inquiringly.

"I will not breathe a word, if you ask me not to".

"Very well, then…"

When she told him, she felt like a heavy weigh had been lifted over her heart. She waited eagerly for his next words.

"Lothíriel, I am in a similar problem" Eomer said, his eyes never leaving hers. "You heart desires that Elphir would regain his senses and reclaim his rights. My heart desires to be lonely no more in a palace. If you become the Ruling Princess of Dol Amroth, your husband will be a consort… but you can not rule Dol Amroth if you are queen of another country."

"What country?" said Lothíriel in a barely audible voice.

"The Mark. Rohan" answered Eomer.

And before she could say anything, he added.

"I am asking you, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, to become Queen of Rohan, and my wife".