"Eowyn named her son Elboron!" said Emerald joyfully. "A star indeed!"

She was rustling through pages of Eowyn's letter with a happy smile on her face. They were sitting on a green terrace of Meduseld. The weather was very mild, and though it was winter, flowers could be seen in the plains before them. Eomer watched Emerald closely and felt a pang in his heart, for his wife's smiles had become rare. She laughed with Eowyn, she smiled at stables and feasts, but she gave up all humor in his presence. He hated to admit it, but it looked like she was becoming more and more reserved and timid with him. He was the one to blame for that, but he knew no way out of that situation. Eomer got so used to being stern with her that he couldn't just adopt different attitude, use kinder words and gestures. He could only be nice to his wife at night in their bed, but he felt that his words of affection never broke through the invisible barrier that was now always between the two of them. His wife simply didn't believe him, when he caressed her, she always kept aloof, and Eomer... Eomer started to feel that he really liked his queen. He tried to convince himself that he still scorns her for her southern looks and ways, but he couldn't find those feelings anymore. He wondered whether she still possessed some good sentiments towards him.

Eomer remembered one day, when she was discussing heatedly her plans about laying out the gardens in Edoras with the servants. Elfhelm leaned to him and said —

"You are lucky to have such a wife, my king. And Rohan is happy to have a mother at last".

That was true. He was lucky to have her, so loyal and clever, so beautiful and kind. His people already began to call his wife the Kind Queen. Kind... yes, that was the word. He never knew anyone so generous, so tender. Eomer felt a rash of gratitude and wanted to tell something good to his queen, but couldn't find the words and simply said—

"It is getting chilly. We'd better move indoors".

"As you wish, my lord", she answered obediently and walked to the chambers in silence.

...

Emerald wasn't quite sure why Eomer stayed in Edoras that winter. He was at first ready to go north after the birth of Elboron, but soon checked his plans. People of Rohan were so happy to have their sons, husbands, fathers at home, that almost every week there were feasts at Meduseld, with dances to be danced and tales to be told. It was a good winter, but some things were still disturbing. Emerald sometimes caught Eomer looking closely at her figure as if to find whether it had changed, but her waist remained slim as ever. It brought sorrow to her heart, for they were married almost for six months now, so naturally her king started to hope for an heir. To be sure Eomer was absent for many weeks last autumn, but now he was at home and every night was far from quiet. Emerald enjoyed those hours with her husband very much, for he was so passionate yet gentle, strong but caring. It was only at night that she let herself express her feelings to him, because she was much afraid that in the daylight he would reject her. But after dark... oh, she could do anything. She could kiss all his body and play with his curls, touch his arms and legs and feel how her body affects him. Sometimes Eomer was very restrained and made love to her almost solemnly, but some nights he was so ardent, that Emerald was blushing the morning after. And there was not just passion. They had one such night during their stay in Ithilien, when Eomer called her "my love". She was quite sure that Eomer — alas! — didn't love her, but those words still sent thrills through her whole body and many days after that she cherished his words in her heart.

...

Eomer breathed heavily. Those moments of climax made him not only happy but also vulnerable. Strangely, he liked it. It was so safe to lie there in the dark with his wife in his arms, smelling musk and feeling her whole small burning frame nestling close to him. He took her long strands of smooth hair and pressed his lips on it.

"Sing for me", Emerald asked softly.

And he sang in a low, orotund voice. At first it was a ballad about Helm Hammerhand, the one he knew since his childhood, then he sang about Ents and their sorrow for lost Entwives. Calming was the melody, serene were the words. Soon Emerald's breath became even and quiet, but Eomer laid awake and watched the moonshine creeping through their chamber. He couldn't understand what feeling possessed him, it was new and almost frightening. "That is happiness", finally he understood. "After all these years I have to learn it".

All of a sudden Emerald opened her eyes and sat in bed.

"Eomer, the Entwives! They are not lost, I saw them!"

"No way", he mumbled, drowsily. "They've been lost for centuries."

"I tell you, I saw them in Far Harad. They have orchards there and shepherd orange trees and keep olive-woods."

She sat in a bed, with her eyes shining and hair disheveled. Now they were both too excited to sleep and just looked at each other, beaming.

"Once again I feel as if I'm walking in a fairytale", said Eomer. "But now I know it is a good one through and through".