Disclaimer: I only own Braenna and anything else you see that doesn't belong to JRR Tolkein. I hope you enjoy this, it's the last chapter. Please read and review. To those who reviewed and gave it a chance, thank you!
Èomer stood pacing outside of the chambers where Braenna was in labor. The nine months had flown by too quickly for him. He had spent a considerable amount of time during it riding with Aragorn and their combined soldiers, hunting down the remaining bands of orcs in Middle-earth. He definitely felt guilt over that a thousand times over. It had taken ages for him to get used to Braenna's mood swings, but he knew when she snapped something that sounded like an order, he had to do it or get someone else to do it. Another pained scream drew him from his thoughts with worry.
"Relax, my friend. I assure you, all is well," Èothain said softly.
Èomer just shook his head and resumed pacing. Aragorn, Èothain, and Faramir exchanged knowing looks. They had each already been in Èomer's position. Aragorn with the birth of his son, Eldarion, Èothain with his children Èotheod, Héowa, and Goldwine, and Faramir with his daughter, Fíriel.
An hour later, a loud scream filled the air and all was silent for a moment. Then they heard the cry of an infant. Èomer breathed a sigh of relief, wondering all the while how Braenna fared.
Aefild emerged from the room. "You may go in now, my Lord. You have a daughter and a very tired wife," she revealed.
Èomer smiled brightly before darting into the room. The three men chuckled. Faramir stood and followed Èomer in, hoping to meet his niece and see how his sister was.
"Have you decided on a name?" Braenna asked, looking at Èomer with a tired, but happy expression as she watched him cradle their daughter in his arms. A beaming smile graced his features the entire time.
"I have," he admitted. Their gazes met. "Théodwen. To honor my uncle and cousin."
"A name that will bring her the strength and wit of her ancestors," Faramir said with a smile. "Congratulations to you both."
"Thank you, Faramir," they both replied.
Faramir's smile widened when Èomer gestured for him to take his niece. He looked down on her. Braenna grinned.
"The two mighty warriors now reduced to mere worrisome mothers," she teased. She laughed at the glares they gave her.
Faramir looked down on his niece once more. "She's absolutely beautiful. We'll be chasing lads with swords for the rest of our lives, Èomer," he joked. Èomer laughed.
"And why not? We did it for our sisters. Surely a few years' reprieve has not stopped our fire for such," Èomer agreed.
"Surely not. After all, you do want your daughters to loathe you after you chase off a potential suitor they may fancy," Braenna put in, sure to put a female perspective on their idea. They all laughed. Faramir returned Théodwen to her mother's arms.
"I must be off to bed. I begin a long ride back to my own wife and child on the morn," he said, getting up. "I will be sure to tell Èowyn, but she would most likely desire to hear from you as well."
"I will write her as soon as I can keep my eyes open," Braenna agreed.
Faramir nodded and left the room. Aefild shooed Èomer from the room momentarily. He assumed that Aefild was teaching Braenna the ways of being a mother. When he returned, he found the coverings on the mattress had been changed and Théodwen was sleeping in a crib beside the bed. Èomer stripped off his tunic and crawled into bed beside Braenna. He kissed her softly and watched her finally fall asleep. He fell asleep not long after her, holding her protectively as always.
Four years later, they had a set of twin girls, Èadwyn and Èadhild. Another year passed before they had a son, Béarn. Èomer claimed Béarn as his heir and much was celebrated throughout the city that they had finally been given an heir to the throne.
Many years later, Braenna was relaxing on a balcony with twelve year old Èadwyn and Èadhild playing a game with their eleven year old brother. She looked up from her book at Béarn's cry. The view that greeted her look made her laugh despite the fact that she knew she should not have.
The girls had forced Béarn into a dress and put face paint on him as well. She sighed and pulled him into her lap. She held him close.
"Why do you let those two bully you, my son?" she asked as she carried him inside.
"Because Father taught me not to fight with girls, particularly my sisters," Béarn replied.
Braenna sighed as she sat him down to wipe the face paint away. "Physically, yes. You should not fight with females. Have you not a mouth, teeth, lips, and tongue?" she asked him.
"Yes, but how does that help?" he replied.
"You can tell them to stop, to leave you alone," she answered. "Speak up for yourself the next time your sisters try to dress you like this. And if they still pursue, run and hide. There are many things you can do to defend yourself from them despite the lessons of your father. Trust me. I know what it is like to be the tortured youngest child."
"Uncle Faramir?" he asked, eyes widening.
"And your deceased Uncle Boromir," she added, nodding.
She helped him back into his own clothes. Èomer entered just as Béarn was running out. He saw the dress Braenna was trying to hide. She knew she was caught and just stopped, hanging it on the bench of the vanity.
"What happened?" he asked.
"The twins...again," she replied. "I'll talk to them this time." She went back out to the balcony.
Èomer followed, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as she stood at the railing. Braenna jerked when she saw Théodwen below with Goldwine. She turned and pulled Èomer into a passionate kiss.
He looked her in the eye when they parted. "You already knew about what I just saw," he
mused.
Èomer..." Braenna began, trailing off. "Of course I knew. I'm her mother. Goldwine has grown into a good man, please do not threaten him."
"I already thought it a good match, my dear. He's every bit the good lad his father is, and I see no argument against it," he revealed.
"My Lord, are you sure you're feeling well?" Braenna asked. "You have threatened and chased off any boy that has come near her before this." She put a hand to his forehead.
"My Lady, I feel wonderful," he assured, smiling. He turned his head to the side to gently kiss her wrist. He gave her a smile.
She smiled back, looping her arms around his neck. "The people are right. You truly are Èomer Èadig," she whispered. "Because I am so blessed to be loved by you." She kissed him softly.
A month later, the royal family, their guard, and Èothain, Goldwine, and Èotheod set out for Minas Tirith. Eldarion and Fíriel were to be wed soon. Braenna was enjoying camping out when they stopped at nightfall. They were halfway to Minas Tirith when Théodwen approached Braenna, who was alone by a fire.
"Mother?" she asked tentatively.
"What is it, my dear?" Braenna replied, urging her to sit and talk.
"You married young, correct?" Théodwen began.
"Hardly. I was thirty-six when your father and I married. I fell in love with him when I was twenty-four...he was your age and I already saw in him the potential to be the man he is today," Braenna replied, smiling.
"But you knew the first moment you saw him? That you loved him?" Théodwen wondered.
"Aye," Braenna answered. She examined her daughter's eyes closely. "You feel that way about Goldwine." Théodwen smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Don't fear it. Love is truly the best emotion I've ever felt. And your father surprisingly approves of a match with Goldwine."
Théodwen smiled beamingly. "That is quite possibly the best thing I have ever heard," she stated. "Thank you, Mother."
"You're welcome, Théodwen," she replied. She smiled as she watched Théodwen bustle away once more. She shook her head, still smiling. She got up and went back into the tent she and Èomer shared.
So Fíriel and Eldarion were wed.. Théodwen and Goldwine were married almost a year later. Eadwyn and Eadhild wed soldiers of Rohan, Eadwyn to a soldier from Snowbourn and Eadhild to a soldier from the Eastfold. Béarn, who often rode with his father when they rode with Gondor to battle, married the oldest daughter of Lothíriel, Ancalimé.
Braenna and Èomer lived long lives filled with love and happiness. Braenna was the first of the two to give in to old age and pass from Middle-earth. Èomer followed six months later, turning the kingdom over to Béarn.