It was an emotional night in many aspects – so emotional, in fact, that neither of them really felt like going to sleep any time soon. And there were still things to be settled and cleared out, so they sat side by side, sharing the warmth of his cloak, and talked away into the night. For one, Éomer felt he should apologise for many things he had done.

"You should have said something, the way I treated you... it was horrible of me to be so familiar with you, after what that damned man did. I am very sorry", he said, feeling the intense urge to kick himself. All those times he had gone so close to her... it was a wonder she had not sent one of her brothers after him! Or perhaps done so herself. He no longer even doubted she could do it.

"Oh, don't be. It's fine. You didn't know about Lachol, after all. You never asked for more than I was willing to give, and... you just are different. Like I said, you're genuine, there's no pretension in you. You have the face and the eyes of an honest man, I knew that the moment I first saw you. I knew. Even as my reason cautioned me and screamed that I shouldn't trust you, my heart said otherwise, because with you... it was always real", Lothíriel said softly, intertwining her fingers with his.

"I'm glad to hear that. I was already worried I had done you ill by my enthusiastic approaches", he said, feeling relieved at her words. "What this man did to you... it's why you were reluctant to say yes when I asked you to marry me, isn't it?"

"Yes, but perhaps not for the reason you might think", she said softly. "True, I feared it would turn out like it did with him, and I needed time to see if you really meant what you said, or if it was just some spontaneous idea you'd regret later. But even more I was scared of what you would think... and I didn't want to bring you shame."

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, frowning that she'd think like that. The Princess sighed.

"Everyone always said you were such an honourable man", she said at length, and he could tell it was hard for her to speak of this. "So, when you showed interest in me, and all the things you did that showed you liked me... I was scared of how you would react if I told you. Because how could you want me if you knew that I'm considered someone with questionable honour? It was horrifying to think of that, after you had been so open and genuine with me. And even if you didn't mind and I said yes... you'd still be the man who wedded the soiled princess."

"So you think that by marrying you, people would disapprove of me too?" he asked. She nodded quietly at that, as if not trusting her voice.

Gently, he lifted her face so that he could see her eyes – and that she could see his.

"I don't care what people say or think. Really, I don't give a damn. In my own eyes, and in the eyes of my people, I will just be the man who married the woman he loves. That's the important thing, not what some prissy, overly correct prudes think. Who cares what they might say? We'll show them what is important. Oh yes, we will. When they look at you they will see a woman adored and cherished", he told her gently. An incredulous look came to her and she frowned.

"Again I wonder how you're even real. That a man would ride from Rohan, and be nothing less than a king... pay attention to me, love me even, and not care for one bit that I was someone else's..." she said quietly, squeezing his hand. At that, he kissed the top of her head.

"We're all human, Lothíriel. We make mistakes", Éomer said calmly. "I have a past of my own, so why should I blame you for yours?"

She let out a shaky breath and hugged him tight for a bit. Then she looked up at him: "Is that just what you think? What will your people say?"

The young king shrugged. By now his guard at least should have enough tales about her to convince the Rohirrim they would be receiving a remarkable queen.

"I doubt they'll even think of it twice. These things are usually treated differently in Rohan anyway", he said, adjusting the cloak around the two of them better. "They will love you, I'm sure of that. You're very lovable, after all."

That seemed to console her, and she settled against his side.

"I hope you're not angry with my father and brothers, though", she said after a moment.

"Why would I be angry with them?" Éomer asked absent-mindedly, feeding some fire to the wood.

"For not telling you about my, hmm, reputation", said the Princess, pulling his cloak about herself. "They're just trying to set an example. That no one should be punished because of some childish mistakes. They're my family, after all... so they'd stand behind me in everything."

"And they're right to do so. Don't worry – I'm not angry that they did not say anything. It's something I'd rather hear from you anyway", he said calmly. Then he grinned to himself. "You know, my offer still stands. If you want Lachol flogged, I mean. I'm sure your father wouldn't mind much."

"Oh, where were you when I was young and heartbroken? But it's fine. I've left that behind", she said softly.

"And here I was hoping I might get to use him as target practice or something", he muttered in feigned disappointment. The princess snorted.

"Of course you did, you madman. I wouldn't worry about him anyway. When it becomes known that we intend to marry... he, or any man for that matter, will probably start to feel very uncomfortable about talking ill - especially when you're around", Lothíriel commented.

"And why is that?" Éomer asked. She sniggered.

"Have you seen yourself, Lion? Don't you know the stories they tell of you? They say that King of Rohan is almost eight feet tall and because you're so large, there's no horse big enough to carry you, and so you caught a dragon to serve as your mount. You ride it to wars and apparently it breathes fire too. I also hear that you only feed flesh of your enemies to this dragon of yours", she answered, her voice light and amused.

He chortled, not sure how to feel about these stories she spoke of. He could only wonder how many pints it had taken to come up with a tale so ludicrous.

"That is ridiculous. Firefoot eats only orcs, and he breathes fire only on the first day of the week", he said lightly, which made Lothíriel laugh – a sound he hoped he would hear often in the future.

"Stories aside, it seems to me that people don't think it such a good idea to get to the bad side of the man who laughs at the face of death. By the way, is it is true that you killed two mûmakil in the Battle of Pelennor Fields?" she asked as she settled her head against his shoulder.

"I merely killed the man riding one oliphaunt, which essentially caused his mount to crash into another beast, and that collision brought down them both", Éomer said. That was a story which had grown much too large for his tastes. "But really, if that's what they say of me these days, I think I might stay home when the next war falls on us, or soon people will demand to see my dragon..."

Lothíriel laughed again and leant up to kiss his cheek. He turned his face so that he could answer that kiss, and a very nice and long moment was spent in the warmth of that affection. Once it ended, he looked down at her; dark hair framed her face in tousled curls, time spent in sun had given her a tan, and in her eyes there was a look he had not seen before. She looked happy, content. Oddly enough, he felt faint at knowing it was because of him.

"Éomer", she said, her voice soft and tender. He had noted she did not often say his name, and when she did it was important. He brought her hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss.

"Lothíriel", he answered, cradling her fingers in his own.

"I love you", she said, so quiet that he nearly didn't hear her. There was something almost shy about the way she spoke those words, as if she wasn't quite used to them. Maybe she wasn't.

"I love you too", he answered and gave her hand a squeeze.

"Will you love me tomorrow too?" she asked.

Lord of the Mark smiled.

"Tomorrow, next year, forever."


The towers of Edhellond rose before them tall and white, basking in the glorious sunshine of April. The blue and silver pennant of Dol Amroth was to be seen on the top of one tower; Prince Imrahil was in the city, and doubtlessly he was very anxious to meet his wayward daughter... and the king she had abducted.

Quietly, Éomer thought whether he should take the blame on himself, but then he thought about it again and realised Lothíriel would not agree to the idea. Looking at her, he knew it was something she'd carry proudly, and the Rohirrim would love her for it. More than anything he knew they wanted to see a Queen beside their King who matched him. And there was no other woman in the world who matched him like she did.

From Edhellond, Éomer King of Rohan would ride back to his land in north and Princess Lothíriel would return to her city by the sea. But he'd go with the knowledge and the happiness that soon, there would be a Queen in the Riddermark again. More importantly, there would finally be someone to share his life with... someone to return to. Someone to fight for and live for and die for. But mostly, to live for, to live with.

They briefly stopped on that last hill before the city and Éomer turned to look at his bride. She returned his gaze and she smiled. Suddenly, a wish to kiss her for one more time came to him and so he rode next to her. Lothíriel seemed to know what he thought and so she leaned towards him for a kiss. In the middle of it he briefly thought of lifting her into his own saddle and carrying her off somewhere no one would find them. After all, he did owe her an abduction. But that would have to wait for some more convenient occasion.

"Ready?" he asked her, and she smiled.

"If you are, my Lion", Lothíriel said.

They exchanged one more smile, and then they raced down the hill and towards the white towers of Edhellond. To himself, King of Rohan thought: Tomorrow, next year, forever.


A/N: And here's more flu-inspired things! I actually thought I'd finish the story with this chapter, but finally I decided against it. For one, I've still got some things to say... and I must admit I like this storyline too much to bring it to an end yet. So there's going to be couple of chapters more at least. Probably for the better though, because I'm not really sure I could keep up this insane writing and updating speed for much longer.

As you might have noticed already, there's one reference to the movie trilogy: Éomer does essentially take down two oliphaunts by killing the man who rides one of them. It's still one of my favourite moments! :D

Thousand thanks for all the supportive comments and well-wishes. You guys are the best! :)