Chapter 35: Between Siblings

"He has Father's eyes," Éomer commented quietly as his young nephew sat playing in the small garden nearby. The King and his sister sat on the patio of Minas Tirith's Citadel, overlooking the vastness of Pelennor Fields, its once fertile lands finally reclaiming strength. The War had done much to devastate Gondor but Éomer was impressed by the efforts Aragorn had put forth to both enliven the people and rebuild the land. A pleasant breeze cooled the air on this agreeable afternoon, the siblings finding a moment of respite to sit together and catch up. Shifting his gaze from Elboron to his sister, Éomer caught her loving smile.

"He does," she agreed before taking a sip of tea. "He is a good boy, aren't you Elbie?"

"Yes, Mama," the child answered distractedly as he tried to dig a pebble from the rich earth. Eowyn smiled wistfully as her son continue to sully himself in the dirt, his auburn hair catching the sunlight with fiery sparks. Éomer's first meeting with the boy the day before had been quite sudden. Eowyn and Faramir were not expected in the White City for a fortnight, but as Éomer walked down the corridor with Aragorn and Arwen, having just quit the Great Hall of Feasts, a toddler came waddling quickly around the corner, colliding solidly with Éomer's knee.

"Elboron," Arwen cried, kneeling down to pick the boy up where he'd landed. Aside from a sniffle or two, the child seemed entirely unphased his dark eyes finding recognition in the Elf Queen's face. A smile and something that resembled a sentence erupted from Elboron as Arwen held him with a smile. Soon after the sounds of feet could be heard moving quickly down the passage from which the boy had emerged.

"Elbie?" the King recognized his sister's voice, her worried tone indicating she was less than pleased with her son's sudden flight. As she rounded the corner, the vision before her stopped her long enough for Éomer to enjoy the look of sudden surprise and delight before she rushed to him, nearly knocking him over with a hug. He embraced her with a laugh as the boy sat comfortably in Arwen's arms watching his mother.

"It is so good to see you, Brother," the Princess of Ithilien exclaimed as she stepped back a wide smile, her eyes twinkling. Having enough of this man stealing his mother's affection, Elboron began to squirm in the Elf's arms until she passed him to Eowyn, who shifted him to her hip and pointed to Éomer.

"Elbie, this is your uncle. Éomer, King of Rohan." The boy stared at his kinsmen without recognition before burying his face in his mother's side, abashed. Aragorn and Arwen chuckled as the child peeked out at them, smiling at their laughter. Éomer leaned toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder with a grin.

"Hail, Elboron son of Faramir," the King of Rohan stated with a gentle voice and a quick wink. "You have your mother's ability to get into trouble it seems." Eowyn smirked in response as Éomer stood straight and turned his gaze to Aragorn with raised eyebrows.

"I thought you told me my sister wasn't expected for another several days?"

"Oh," answered Aragorn with a glance to his wife, his expression feigning surprise. "Did I? Surely I said it was today they would arrive. My apologies, friend."

The men shared a grin as Eowyn rolled her eyes. Arwen shook her head knowingly before greeting the Princess with a quick half embrace. As the women exchanged news, Éomer caught Elboron glancing at him from his lofty position on Eowyn's hip. He was a handsome lad with dark eyes and rust colored hair, his features owing to each parent.

"Where is Faramir?" Arwen inquired, her slender eyebrows arching over wide uncanny eyes. Although initially uncertain of her, Éomer had become partial to the Elf for her tranquility and pleasant nature. He found multiple similarities between her and Lothíriel, which only increased his desire to return home to see his wife. But he smiled through the idle talk, listening as his sister explained that her husband would be there a day later, for he was still attending to his duties in Ithilien. Éomer was relieved that he was afforded this opportunity to spend time with his sister, considering the original arrangements gave him only a day in her company before he started the long journey home.

The next afternoon found Eowyn and her brother enjoying a measure of privacy on the dais. They'd both sat through councils and meetings before finally having some leisure time. Arwen departed earlier with a retinue to make ceremonial visits to nearby towns and Aragorn had taken this time to be with his son so the siblings remained on their own, seated in wooden chairs near the Court of the Fountain.

"How is Lothíriel?" Eowyn inquired after a moment, her gaze at her son. Éomer was pleased to see his sister looking so healthy and joyful after the sorrow and misfortune she'd suffered for so long. It did his heart well to know she was happy with her new family, her personality blossoming mightily.

"Well" Éomer replied, leaning over to rest his forearms on his knees, his eyes on the horizon. "Though I did not wish to leave her alone for such a time. I am sure she is managing."

"Of course she is," his sister informed him with a soft smile. "She suits you, Brother."

"Oh?" Éomer turned his attention to the Princess, eyebrows raised with intrigue. "When did you spend any significant amount of time with her to make that estimation?"

"Your wife was among the chief Healers here during the War," Eowyn reminded him.

"Yes, I heard. But as I recall you spent most of your time enamored of a certain Captain," he retorted with a sardonic smirk.

"I wasn't finished," his sister snapped scowling, though her eyes were mirthful. "Lothíriel, her father and brothers were at my wedding. I tried to persuade you to dance with her."

"You did?" Éomer sat back against the chair, the memory somewhat faded in his mind. There were many court women present during the celebration and he was encouraged to dance with all of them, which he distinctly remembered rebuffing. Éomer son of Eomund was no dancer.

"Indeed," Eowyn answered with a sly grin, setting the mug of tea on the little table between them. Elboron had tired of playing in the dirt, the boy's focus now occupied by a bird that preened itself near a bush. "But it seemed she wasn't too keen on having you as dance partner either."

"Really?" Éomer's expression caused his sister a hearty laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck with embarrassment. Had he met Lothíriel before their wedding and made an ass of himself?

"I doubt she took it personally."

"That was the visit in which Imrahil mentioned a union between Rohan and Dol Amroth. But I cannot remember seeing her there."

"You were too busy interrogating Faramir."

"Oh," he frowned as he recalled having too many pints and sitting his new brother-in-law down and barraging him with questions. With a lop-sided grin, Éomer shrugged. "A brother can't be too careful. Even if his sister is a Wraith-slaying shieldmaiden."

"How does she fair with the pregnancy?" Eowyn inquired, intentionally shifting topics. She didn't much speak of her heroics on the battlefield and often rejected invitations to discuss it. Éomer respected her need for privacy, knowing there were times when he too wished to forget the events from the War.

"It is early yet so I cannot tell. I believe she is concerned for the child's health considering the last misfortune," Éomer trailed off quietly, looking down in a moment of fragility that had him at a loss for words. Eowyn placed a hand on his knee, giving him an encouraging squeeze as she leaned closer to the King.

"You have rightfully mourned the loss of that life. But now celebrate the life that is to come. Lothíriel may not tell you this directly, but she will need you to be strong for her in these coming months." Eowyn's voice was soft, the comfort in her words giving Éomer pause before he turned to look at her.

"I'm not sure what I can do for her," he confessed tightly. It was not in his nature to divulge such personal thoughts but Eowyn had a way of drawing them out. "We have been contented of late but I don't know if that is enough for her."

"Dear brother, you cannot think this way," she chided gently. "If your interactions have been agreeable then do not concern yourself with misgivings. Lothíriel does not seem the kind to feign happiness if she was otherwise. You do care for her, yes?"

"Of course. I care deeply for her. And I want her to be happy with our people and me. But," he stopped, his gaze turned downward. The Princess of Ithilien waited patiently until he could find the words to say, his voice tinged with remorse "I fear if she loses this child there will be no heir for Rohan."

"Éomer! Do not speak thus!" Eowyn's sudden reproach brought his attention back to her. He was surprised to see disapproval in her fair eyes. "You certainly cannot say such things before your wife."

"I wouldn't," he assured her with a frown, glancing at Elboron who was stirred from his playing by his mother's voice. "I do not want her to grow to resent me."

"Oh brother, she will not. Show her the kindness and gentleness I know you have somewhere deep down in there," she pointed to his chest with the hint of a smile. "Just think, Éomer. Come this time next year you will have your own child."

"A terrifying prospect," the King noted dryly.

"Oh stop," Eowyn grinned before sitting back. "You'll be an excellent father. You will have to show your children to all the places we went with Thoedred and Elfhelm. You can take them to the Fenmarch where Theodred lost his best shoes. Remember how cross Mother was that we took him there! And you can go to the Entwade with the spring foals."

The pair smiled at shared memories of their childhood, the scenes still vibrant in their minds even after so many years of strife and sorrow. They'd shared a blissful childhood, adopting Theodred as another sibling. Their mother showed the boy endless affection since his own died at his birth. They were a mighty trio, though Eowyn was often traded for Elfhelm on account of her sex. She still managed to follow them on nearly every excursion. After a moment, a shadow crossed Éomer's face as he glanced at his sister.

"To think that Theodred might've been King," he murmured.

"His death still haunts you," Eowyn noted with a sigh.

"Yes," the man answered but turned to her with a smile. "His life was short but blessed. Béma protects him in the Hall of our Fathers."

Eowyn nodded her assent as Elboron crawled toward her, hands, clothing and faced soiled with dirt. She smiled and picked him up, setting him upon her lap. Taking the cloth napkin she cleaned the worst of it off, Éomer observing silently. The boy didn't appear terribly fussy, though he made a face or two when his mother attempted to brush his hair with her fingers. As he watched, Éomer tried picturing Lothíriel holding his child and realized it was a very satisfying image.

"Is this how your father will see you after these days apart?" Eowyn intoned to the little Prince, using her thumb to smudge away a line of dirt from the boy's forehead. "Luckily he is besotted with you and I doubt any amount of griminess will change that."

The boy smiled widely, turning to look at his uncle with an expectant expression. He then reached his chubby arms out toward the King, fingers opening and closing, his upper body leaning toward his uncle. Éomer looked to his sister who merely nodded pointedly toward the child.

"Me?"

"He doesn't tolerate waiting," she informed him with a grin. Éomer frowned, holding his arms out awkwardly to receive the child. Elboron for his part was entirely placid, allowing the foreign man to lift him off his mother's lap and sit him upon his own. Éomer stared at the child, his hands supporting the little Prince as he sat on his knee, their expressions mirrored. Both seemed entranced by the newness of the other. The lady stood and stretched as a servant appeared to remove her tea. Looking down at the pair who'd broken their staring contest to observe the Princess, Eowyn smiled.

"Holding a child suits you."

"You think so?" Éomer's voice was quiet as Elboron reached for his beard, the child's mouth producing unintelligible sounds.

"Indeed. So much so that I might have to warn Lothíriel that she'll be assuming your duties once the baby arrives."

A/N: Shorter chapter but I wanted to put some Éomer love in since things are so intense back in Rohan. I think I will do another Éomer-centered chapter before I revisit Lothy/Beorn. Also, I may skip ahead a few days/weeks for both perspectives, but you'll know either way. Also a BIG thank you to my Beta, thehobbitivy, and TheJewellersHand for her suggestions. I love ya, friends! Thanks to all of you for your support.

Éomer-love and cupcakes,
~ S