A/N: Don't forget - there's a short Epilogue coming tomorrow. Hope this resolves things to everyone's satisfaction.

Chapter 6

The visit to Dol Amroth was not entirely without work. Eomer held discussions with Imrahil regarding setting up trade routes, and it was arranged for several traders to travel to Edoras the following month to discuss it further. Eomer had already been in contact with Faramir who was arranging something similar with traders from Minas Tirith, and the king was satisfied with his efforts in getting things moving. He wanted to see Rohan prosper and grow; trade would help that along appreciably.

All the same, their time in the south was too brief. Reluctantly Eomer bid his hosts farewell, and they made their return journey. Still, he had had a wonderful time, and he knew Lothiriel had been well-pleased to be with her family again.

The second night on the road, Eomer broached a subject he had become aware of on their visit. Sitting down by the fire, next to his bride, he gazed thoughtfully at the flames while sipping his tea. At length, he observed, "Your father tells me that you were the one who largely renegotiated Dol Amroth's trade agreements for him, and that you are a fierce negotiator."

Blushing slightly, she nodded. "I assisted him, yes. With Mordor becoming an increasing threat, his mind was preoccupied with other matters, and it was a way in which I could ease his burden."

"Would you be interested in doing the same for me?" Eomer asked quietly, turning to look at her. "I have never been called upon for such things, and though my advisers mean well, they have not had much dealings with Gondor for many years. You would be in the best position to see that we are well represented and get a favorable agreement."

"I am happy to do whatever you wish of me, Eomer. If this will help you, then I will do it." She offered him a gentle smile, and he grinned in return.

"Thank you. In some ways I trust you more than anyone else. I…while I do not think anyone would cheat us, I fear they might try to take advantage of our inexperience," he confessed.

Nudging his shoulder with her own, she lowered her voice and said, "You are not far wrong! The traders will do all they can to get the best deal for themselves, and if they think you do not know what you are doing, they will turn that to their advantage. When we get home, let me know what Rohan has to offer so I may prepare a plan in advance of the negotiators' arrival."

True to her word, when the first traders came from Dol Amroth, Lothiriel was ready for them. Eomer's advisers looked surprised at the sight of the queen seated beside the king for the meeting, but he offered no explanation for her presence. Once the session had begun, Lothiriel allowed the men to discuss the agreements freely for some time before she inobtrusively laid a hand on Eomer's arm.

Taking the cue, Eomer cleared his throat to draw the attention of the assembly, and then turned pointedly to his wife. "Would you care to comment, my lady?"

"If I may, my lord." Turning to level her gaze on the Dol Amroth traders, she gave them a benign smile and they returned it indulgently. Their smiles slipped, however, at her words. "For those of you who do not know me, I am Lothiriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Several years ago, I renegotiated trade agreements on behalf of my father." There was some nervous shifting at this pronouncement, and all eyes were riveted on her.

"I am curious as to why the cost you are expressing to us is so much greater than what is charged to Dol Amroth or Minas Tirith. Even though I negotiated those agreements a number of years ago, I have kept abreast of the markets and know what the current supply and expense is for the various goods. Further, my cousin, Lord Faramir, the Steward of Gondor, has discussed with me the trade agreements in place for Minas Tirith."

The men looked among themselves, and one finally ventured, "My lady, the distance to travel to deliver the goods is much greater for Rohan. It will cost us far more to supply your needs."

Lothiriel raised an elegant eyebrow, and observed mildly, "True, but I am unclear how you can justify charging us more than twice as much as you charge in Gondor. With the opening of the Dimholt, and improvements being made along the Great West Road, travel conditions are much better and swifter. You bore none of the expense to improve the roads, so you will not need to pass that on to us. Surely your other expenses will not be that much greater…"

Eomer's advisers were openly gaping at the queen, astonished at this news. While they had not cared for the high prices being quoted, they had no inkling about how substantial the disparity was. The visiting traders now looked decidedly uneasy, not having expected anyone to know the going rate for such things. They had thought the Rohan group would attempt to talk them down slightly, and they had been prepared to capitulate as a sign of good faith, but this was far different.

At length, one of them cleared his throat, "I see your point, my lady. Perhaps we may reconvene in a few hours or tomorrow, after we have had time to review our numbers and make additional adjustments for the points you have raised."

Lothiriel nodded cordially, "I am sure that would be quite satisfactory. I have prepared a record of the agreements in Gondor, adjusted them for the travel expense, and suitable profit on your part. I trust your next proposal will be more in line with our expectations."

Barely concealing a grin, Eomer concluded the meeting, inviting the men to adjourn to the Hall for dinner. Rising, he assisted Lothiriel up and escorted her from the room. Once the visitors had been seated for dinner, Eomer excused himself and the queen for a few moments. They barely made it to the nursery before he broke into laughter. "You were brilliant, Lothiriel! Your father's praise was not misplaced! My advisers would never have known the shenanigans that lot was trying to pull, and we would have ended up paying far more than we should." Impulsively, he pulled her into an embrace, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Thank you! The queen of Rohan is most impressive!"

Blushing with embarrassment and pleasure at his warm admiration, Lothiriel allowed herself to enjoy the moment. Slowly, but surely, they were beginning to mesh and work well together, as she had hoped when she agreed to the marriage. Pulling back, Eomer eyed her with his hands on her shoulders. "Will you join us for dinner or would you prefer not?"

Smiling teasingly at him, she answered, "Much as it will annoy you, I believe I prefer to spend my dinner with our son than with those stuffy traders. The king shall have to represent the both of us!"

Eomer made a face, though an unexpected thrill shot through him at her appellation of 'our son'. "You do play dirty! Shall we not exchange places, and I stay with Elfwine while you entertain them?" he wheedled.

At her folded arms, he sighed with resignation. "No, I did not think you would accept that suggestion. Very well, considering your morning's work, I will be generous and allow you this small reward!" Kissing her cheek, he added, "I will send word when they are ready to reconvene. Enjoy your meal."

The afternoon session of negotiations was much more acceptable. Once the traders realized Lothiriel's connections, and intimate knowledge of trading details in Gondor, they were ever so careful to offer a reasonable contract that benefited both sides rather than just themselves.

To Eomer's further satisfaction, several of his advisers clearly had done an about face regarding the queen, now singing her praises most enthusiastically. A few seemed to resent her involvement, despite the favorable outcome, but they wisely kept their thoughts to themselves. It was agonizingly slow in coming, but the people of Rohan were gradually accepting their new queen.

By the time the Harvest Festival arrived in mid-September, Eomer was quite comfortable in his marriage. He and Lothiriel attended together, with Elfwine in their arms until the child grew weary and Hild returned to Meduseld with him. The royal couple lingered on, visiting with their people and engaging in the various entertainments.

Eomer had been seated for a while, talking with Eothain and some of the riders in his guard. The last he had seen, Lothiriel was talking with a few noblewomen at a nearby table, but he now glimpsed her being approached by a rider seeking a dance. Lothiriel had always been quite willing to dance with most all comers, believing it helped relations for her to be so approachable. Eomer's eyes followed the pair to the makeshift dance area, and Lothiriel was soon enthusiastically learning the steps of the folk dance in progress.

Her eyes flared with laughter whenever she took a misstep, and the flame of the torches reflected glints of light in them. When in Gondor, Eomer had noticed that the married women tended to wear their hair in more severe styles, and on their visit Lothiriel had somewhat adhered to that. As soon as they left, however, she reverted to the softer, looser styles that were more common in the Mark. Watching her now, as her dark hair swung about her, he mused that he much preferred it this way. She was young and attractive; there was no need for her to appear so matronly as Gondor thought desirable.

The longer Eomer watched the rider dancing with his wife, for they continued on through several dances, the more he felt restive. A cuff on the arm from Eothain brought his attention back to his companions. "I am sorry. Did you say something, Eothain?"

Grinning with amusement, his friend shook his head. "I will grant the queen is pleasing to the eye, my friend, but she has been so for many months now. Are you just noticing?"

Eomer flushed red, though the dim light hid it for the most part. "A man is not allowed to admire his wife?" he justified, and Eothain raised an eyebrow at him. His friend was well aware of the nature of Eomer's marriage, though he did not intend to freely discuss it in front of the other men.

Not wanting to draw any more attention to their words, Eomer rose. "I was just thinking I should like a dance with the queen. If you will excuse me, gentlemen."

He drew near the edge of the dance area, and waited there for the present dance to conclude. Lothiriel and her partner moved past, and she flashed him a dazzling smile as she went by. When at last the music ended, Lothiriel bid the rider farewell and came to join her husband.

"Were you looking for me, Eomer? Do you wish to return to Meduseld?" she asked.

Why did it bother him that her first thought was that he was merely fetching her to attend him? Shaking his head, he moved closer. "I had thought my wife might be willing to dance with me. If she is not too tired already from her earlier exertions."

Her face lit up at his words, as he did not often dance, with her or anyone else. "Of course! I should be delighted!" She reached for his arm and he steered her back into the dance area as the music started up again. This was one she was familiar with, and she confidently moved along, matching him stride for stride. Like her brothers, she was on the tall side, making her much closer to Eomer's height than most women.

It was a vigorous dance, and by the end, they were both breathless. Laughing with sheer pleasure, Lothiriel caught his arm again. "I do hope that now you have exhausted me, you will at least fetch me some wine to ease my thirst!"

"Me? It was not me who exhausted you! Your previous partner danced with you far longer. Any weariness is his doing not mine! However, I shall be gracious and attend to the queen in her need!" Flashing her a roguish grin, he moved away as she laughingly took a seat at a nearby table to await his return.

As he settled beside her, handing her the mug of wine, he observed, "You are enjoying yourself, then?"

"Oh, yes! Very much! This is more like the festivals we have in Dol Amroth. Minas Tirith is much more staid and proper – in a word, dull!"

The night breeze blew some of her hair across her face, and he reached over to tuck it behind her ear. As he did, their eyes met and for an instant time stood still. Then her brow twitched with perplexity and she glanced away. For a moment, Eomer wasn't certain what had just happened. The cheerful easiness of before seemed gone, and it unsettled him.

Setting aside her empty mug, Lothiriel rose, smiling tentatively down at him. "I think I will call it a night. Will you walk back with me or would you stay longer?"

Immediately he was on his feet. "I will accompany you." Catching her elbow, he guided her up the hill toward Meduseld, calling farewells to any he passed who noticed their departure.

They went together to check on Elfwine, who was soundly sleeping, and then bid each other goodnight before going on to their respective rooms. Once he was alone, Eomer wandered restlessly to his window and stared out into the night. Tonight, at this moment, he felt very alone. It had not been so earlier, not for most of the evening. Everything had changed in that single instant when he had touched her. Why?

She had always seemed easy with him, and had not previously been reluctant to make physical contact with him – a hand on his arm or shoulder. Why was tonight different? Because they had danced close together? Because his brushing back her hair had seemed so intimate? Because his stomach had lurched as he did it, and then gazed into her dark eyes?

Was this love he was feeling? It felt far different than what he had shared with Cafliss. That had been bright and flaming, exciting; like a wildfire pushed before the wind, it had swept them both along. This was more a steady glowing of a dependable fire, warming his heart and filling his entire being with...contentment. Could love be so very dissimilar with different people?

He sighed, and wearily rubbed his face. Could it be possible he was falling in love with his wife? And, if it was, what were her feelings in the matter? He had seen nothing to suggest anything had changed for her since their wedding. And just now, he rather thought he wanted things to change. Slowly he undressed and climbed into bed, but sleep did not come for some time as his thoughts roiled considering where his life was going.

xxxxx

Lately, Eomer seemed to find himself in the nursery more and more often during the day. While he tried to make himself believe it was to spend more time with Elfwine, who was becoming far more interesting as he neared the age of two years, in truth he rather thought it was Lothiriel who he sought there. That was not to say he did not enjoy being with his son, but something else was drawing him here so frequently.

If Lothiriel noticed his increased presence, she did not comment. Today, he stood watching her changing the boy's diaper, all the while chattering away to Elfwine about anything and everything.

"May I ask you something?" he queried.

"Of course," she responded over her shoulder, not looking up from her task.

"Why do you spend so much time talking to Elfwine when he cannot understand you?"

"He may not understand the words, but he has come to know my voice along with the comfort and safety of my arms." She looked up at him and added, "You should do likewise so he will know you as well. Tell him stories while you hold him."

"I do not believe I know any childrens' stories to tell him," Eomer admitted reluctantly.

"That is not necessary. Tell him of your life, even of the battles in which you fought. As you said, he will not understand the words so much as the feeling of being with you. Later, when he is old enough to understand the words, he will desire to have you read to him or tell him stories; to simply spend time being with you."

Eomer rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and nodded. "I will do as you say. Aunt Minleoth had heard me talking to him once in his crib and mocked me. I have not done it since," he confessed.

Stepping closer, Lothiriel touched his arm and looked up at her husband. "Trust your instincts. I have watched you, and in most things you have good instincts. Sometimes they need guiding and refining, but basically they are true."

At her words, he blushed, but appreciated the vote of confidence in him. Wrapping an arm around her head he pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "Thank you. I truly do appreciate your supportiveness. Come, we should be going to dinner."

Moving down the corridor, it seemed as though they had regained that closeness they briefly had shared the night of the Harvest Festival. More importantly, she did not seem to be drawing away from him this time. In the weeks since the festival, he had thought much about Lothiriel, and studied her when she was not looking. Perhaps, if she was amenable to the idea, they could begin to turn this into a true marriage. She had said she was prepared to honor her vows completely, and bear him children if he wished, but could she come to have feelings for him such as he was beginning to discover he had for her?

He knew she had always wanted to have many children of her own; her brothers had mentioned that when they visited Dol Amroth. And, clearly, she enjoyed motherhood, if her behavior toward Elfwine was any indication. But that did not necessarily mean that she did – or could – love him. She was fond of him, he was certain, but love might be an entirely other matter.

For the next several days, Eomer stewed about the situation and finally, as November came upon them, he decided that the only solution was to woo his wife and hope that she could come to share his feelings. He had resisted the notion at first, thinking it impossible, or even improper, but now he was convinced that he had fallen in love with Lothiriel of Dol Amroth.

xxxxx

The rains of early winter kept most people indoors this time of year except when it could not be avoided. With the wind added to the wet weather, it could chill you to the bone to be outside very long. For Eomer, the advantage was that his advisers were less inclined to venture forth for all the many meetings they deemed completely necessary the rest of the year, and he made full use of the reprieve.

Elfwine had been walking for several months now, getting better at it every day, and Lothiriel had assured him that his son would be far more interested in snow this year than he had been the previous one. Consequently, Eomer was eagerly awaiting the first snow fall. In the interim, he was enjoying spending this inclement season of the year getting to know his son better, and spending more time with him.

For the most part, Eomer could generally find Elfwine and Lothiriel playing in the nursery or exploring the Golden Hall, and many times Lothiriel turned up at his study door with the boy in her arms. Sometimes she remained with them while they played together, and sometimes she went off to pursue other activities. Eomer rather preferred when she stayed.

In mid-November, strong storms pounded Meduseld for several days and most of the residents became housebound. When Eomer ventured in search of Elfwine, he found the nursery empty, but upon hearing voices from Lothiriel's chamber, he moved to the connecting door that was ajar. He stood there listening for a moment, and realized it was Lothiriel telling Elfwine a story. For a while, he just leaned near the door, admiring the rise and fall of her voice as she brought to life the tale of drama on the high seas. When she paused, he risked disturbing them with a knock at the door, and she summoned him in.

The pair were snuggled in a large heavily cushioned chair in front of the fire. The sight of them together brought a lump to his throat. Her long, dark tresses framed her face, falling down her shoulders where it mingled pleasingly with Elfwine's golden hair. He had hoped she would care for his son when he married her, but he didn't think he'd ever dared quite believe she would come to love Elfwine as her own. Looking at them now, he could not imagine any birth mother reflecting more love in her countenance.

Elfwine was almost asleep in her arms, and Eomer moved to kneel beside them, gently stroking the lad's hair before pressing a kiss to the tousled blond locks. His eyes flicked up to his wife and he whispered sincerely, "You are beautiful!"

Instead of the usual blush, she seemed overwhelmed, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. His hand reached out and he tenderly brushed it away with his thumb. Rising, he bent and took Elfwine from her arms, carrying the child to his bed. Lothiriel followed to the doorway, standing and watching him tuck his son under the covers, before turning back and moving to stand before her.

He caught both of her hands in his, and she dropped her gaze rather than meet his eyes. For several moments, they just stood close, not speaking. Then he raised his hand to brush against her cheek, and cup her chin to lift her face to his. "Lothiriel," he whispered softly.

Her eyes were wide, staring at him with something close to fear, but not quite. Taking a chance, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, hearing her breath hitch. For a moment, he pulled back to judge her reaction, but whether she intended him to see it or not, there was nothing but yearning in her gaze. Satisfied, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her into his embrace, claiming her lips with fervor. She hesitated only an instant before clinging to him, welcoming the intimacy he had initiated.

Without realizing it, they had moved from the doorway back into her bedchamber, pushing the door closed behind them so as not to disturb the sleeping child. The gloomy weather outdoors made the room almost as dark as if it were night already, and only the cheery fire drove back the shadows.

Eomer broke off the kiss, and drew back to eye her closely in the flickering firelight. "Lothiriel…do you wish this? When I asked you to marry me, I gave you ample reason to expect I would not so much as lay a hand upon you, and you have every right to expect I will hold to that. I will not force my attentions upon you against your wishes."

His breath caught in his throat as he awaited her response, and he suddenly realized how very much he wanted her to care for him, and wanted to truly make her his wife.

A slow smile slid over Lothiriel's features, followed by an expression he couldn't decipher. The fingers of her right hand came up and brushed lightly over his lips, and involuntarily he pressed a kiss to them, causing her smile to deepen. Leaning closer so they were almost touching, she whispered, "I very much wish it…my love!"

For an instant, he failed to comprehend what she'd said, but then the meaning hit him full force, and elation flooded through him. Eagerly he claimed her mouth once more, and snugged her back against him. Perhaps it was delayed a few months, but at last they would have their joyous wedding night.

THE END

11/24/06 – 12/18/06

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Minleoth - "my song"

Alcathir - "shining face"

Eledferth – head housekeeper - "fiery spirit"

Cafliss - "quick joy"

Eomer married in April of 3018; his wife bears a son in his absence and dies during childbirth (in Jan 3019)