#helping train eomer

[eomer]

.

[shirefantasies]

Horse-Maid- Eomer x F!Reader

I’ve been really wanting to do more one-shots, so here we are- enjoy this short little imagine 😘

“What happened to you, huh?”

Chuckling, you bent down to take up a brush. Sneoan, your horse, had somehow gotten a mess of leaves and brush tangled in his pure-white mane. Smiling at the way your horse’s eyes fluttered shut in contentment, you gently dragged the brush through the tangles, working out the leaves from the coarse hair with your fingers.

Your father had long cared for that stable, but ill health of late had driven him to grant its care to you, his eldest daughter. And with joy had you said yes! Your people’s love of horses carried naturally into your heart even without the wonder of seeing how your father groomed and sometimes armored your proud Riders’ mounts. Truly the trust he had for you to continue it was an honor.

Sneoan suddenly turned his head; you followed, gaze tracking the swing of stable doors. Thuds of boots and rustles of the hay littering the ground alerted you further to the presence of another.

“Where is Havner?” No malice colored the man’s tone, just a serious inquiry.

Finally turning around, you were met with an expression of curiosity across a face that perfectly matched his tone. Long golden hair fell to his shoulders and around the look of regal inquiry, swept as it was away from his dark eyes.

“Retired,” you replied simply, eyes trailing lightly across the man’s features as one of your hands still combed Sneoan’s mane.

The man’s brows arched and rose. “Ah, I see. That is news to me. Well, would you mind terribly directing me to the new master of the stable?”

Your hand finally faltered, a single freed leaf fluttering to the floor. “That would be me. Which of these fine horses is your mount?”

“You?”

“Yes.” A faint frown began creasing your forehead- for all his looks, was this man truly that dense?

“Never before have I seen a stable in the hands of a horse-maid,” he remarked.

Striding over to the wall where you rehung your hoof pick, you shrugged and gave a small roll of your eyes, not that the man could probably see it. “Well, now you have.”

“Why did Havner choose you?” He pressed on, shuffling closer as you tidied.

“My father chose me after years of training and even observing the farriers,” you countered, crossing your arms and smirking drily, “and if you really still doubt me, ride with me. See who completes the circuit faster.”

Apparently forgetting whatever errand had been at hand, the man shrugged lightly with a cocky look of his own. "Very well. Let's."

~

Sneoan saw you through. It was a tight race, but in the end you pulled ahead, creating a respectable difference in your finishes. Turning around, you fixed the stable man with a pointed look of satisfaction.

“You have bested me.” His grace and decency met you such that you felt shock; you’d expected more fight, greater upset at loss.

Your mouth opened once to speak, twice, before a reply emerged, your ire nearly all drained. “Indeed I have,” you replied, easing the grip you had on your reins as the both of you slowed down, “so?”

“So,” he shot back, “you have proven yourself a more than worthy heir to your father’s work.”

Squinting in the sun as you may have been, you caught the glint of pride in the man’s dark eyes. “You know, you are quite like my sister. You have spirit. She would be very fond of you.”

“Sounds as though she is of sound judgment,” you teased as your horse trotted evenly aside his, inclining your head his way.

“Indeed she is!” He chuckled, shaking some golden hair off his shoulder.

You smiled. “So, may I finally know my opponent’s name?”

The almost childish look of surprise that dashed across his face was something you couldn’t help a giggle at, feeling another rosy rush of warmth to your face complementing the sun’s touch.

“I never…” He cleared his throat, finally returning to his look of gentle stoicism. “Yes, well, my name is Éomer, son of Éomund. At your service.”

You gave your name in turn. “And I, it would seem, at yours. Your horse there? He’s a good one. Always puts up with my prodding. Don’t you, sir?” Reaching across to bridge the gap, you stroked the flowing mane of Éomer’s horse.

Leaning to look back up, you were surprised at the intensity in your fellow rider’s gaze, his eyes boring into yours. “He knows a good hand when he sees it. Might we do this again someday?”

“Have a race?” You replied, perhaps a bit dumbly, beneath that stare.

“I could try my hand at a rematch.” A smile teased upon his lips. “Or we could simply ride together. Whatever you prefer that day, I suppose. I will be happy for the company. What say you, horse-maid?”

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC) - Part 2 of 3

Part 1 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Eomer is determined to convince the woman he loves of his long-hidden devotion, but the obligations of his new crown and her baseborn origins shake her faith in their future together.

Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you… but just know that it's love nonetheless."

Requested by and Dedicated to: @laneynoir You've probably forgotten about making this Valentine ask, but I remember and write down everything you ask of me! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.9k

Content: Angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Excessive angst? Verbal passion? This is clean but it will do a number on your feels.

To Read on AO3: Link

Tumblr Post for Taken, Part 1: Link

Taken 

Third Age 3019 May 2

Minas Tirith, Gondor

PART TWO

“My lord, are you certain it is safe for you to go without a proper escort?” 

Eomer cast a taut but amused smirk at Haleth, son of Hama, over the horse they had just finished tacking up together. His new squire, one of the youngest fighters to survive the Battle of Hornburg, had been appointed to the post just very recently, and so still had much to learn. 

Eomer dismissed the given counsel that a king needed someone with experience in his direct service, not a novice that required training. He had seen with his own eyes how bravely Hama’s orphaned boy had helped to defend the refugees at the Glittering Caves; in Eomer’s eyes, the child had earned the honor several times over.

“Surely you don’t mean to imply that the King of the Horse-lords is incapable of defending himself on a short ride?”

“No, sire. It is just…” Haleth’s eyes darted about nervously and he lowered his voice. “You ride with a woman. If something were to happen, would you not have to defend yourself and her as well?”

At that, Eomer chuckled. “I commend your gallant instincts lad, but I advise you not to make such an insinuation in the presence of a known shield-maiden. They do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned, and will be quick to set you right.” He patted his squire’s shoulder to show that no offense was taken. “Rest assured that the lady is more than capable of holding her own, and of shielding me from harm if need be.” 

The boy need not know that Eomer would sooner die than put her in that position. He had kept that a secret from her and the rest of his Éored for years, although perhaps a little too successfully and to his own detriment.  

Riding Firefoot into the white-stone square courtyard that connected the galleries of stables, Eomer quickly saw that she was already waiting for him, standing alert beside her own horse. Greywind, a dappled mare that bore no meager resemblance to her equine brother, tossed her head and whickered softly at Firefoot's approach. It was a warmer reception than his master received.

"Good morning, my lord," the shield-maiden acknowledged with a nod as curt as her tone. Royal protocol satisfied, she turned and swung up into the saddle of her own steed. 

Her cold shoulder was to be his comeuppance, then. So be it. Her silent rages were nothing Eomer had not seen, borne, and successfully navigated before. 

But today, this time, would be different. Everything was sure to be different after that kiss, which, after a sleepless night of pondering and self-debating, he would still swear on Bema was no mistake. Clumsy perhaps, but an action he did not regret leaping into. There was no part of Eomer that did not desire to repeat it, over and over. 

First, he must resolve the confusion his recklessness had caused. 

"Follow my lead,” he said, and spurred Firefoot on toward the exit gates. 

His command came from habits formed over years of riding together, and so did her immediate obedience. Her loyalty had always been faultless; loyalty to Rohan, loyalty to him. Whenever he called and whatever he asked for, she gave, just as she came to meet him now, regardless of what had transpired between them last night. 

This new epiphany that her devotion to him might be encouraged not just by duty, but a love to reciprocate his, still felt like too much to hope for. 

They rode side by side down the levels of Minas Tirith, and soon were past the city’s great white walls. At the slightest shift of his master’s weight, Firefoot burst into a full charge down the North-way, rejoicing at the freedom to run across open land once more, an impatience that mirrored Eomer’s own. Next to them, Greywind and rider matched their gait to keep up, and they tore their way for several miles northward into Pelennor. 

Eomer’s body sang at the rush of the wind over his skin, through his hair and his cloak that streamed over Firefoot’s haunches. Too long had he been cooped up within the city walls, tethered to the duties of his new office. It still felt unseemly for him to carry the title of King while his uncle had yet to be properly laid to rest among his forebears, but he was determined to serve in every manner his people required. 

This involved taking guidance from his newly formed council, who seemed to believe that the first order of business was to reaffirm and restrengthen Rohan's alliance with Gondor. In the weeks that followed the great feast at Cormallen, Eomer spent more time with new acquaintances, lords and ladies from the noblest families of Gondor, than with his own men. His Éored, who had been the rock at his side for nearly the whole of the past year, were granted time to rest and convalesce according to their desires, and every one eagerly embraced the offered leave.

That included her, most painfully and noticeably. Each day that passed by filled with council meetings and formal dinners but nearly nothing of her, had dragged Eomer further into despair. When she finally reappeared for the coronation, dressed the way she was…small wonder that he finally lost hold on propriety the moment he touched her. 

In seemingly no time at all, they left it all behind. The high ramparts and looming towers of the grand city turned into a white speck on the mountainside. So far out north into the fields and away from the main road, they had separated themselves from the thousands that had flocked to the city to celebrate the coronation, and retreated into the peace of the vast plains that bore some semblance to their home. 

Eomer eased Firefoot into a relaxed pace and she followed suit. Afterward they were blanketed in silence but for the clink of tack and thud of hooves on the long grass finally regrown in the end of Pelennor’s strifes. 

One sideways glance showed Eomer that she remained resolved to look anywhere but in his direction. No matter. If she refused to look at him, he would gladly stare at her, and take his fill of what he had been deprived of for weeks. 

He had forgotten what a vision she made outside of armor, so long had they lived in battle gear. The gown she wore to the coronation ball had distracted him all evening, but it painted her beauty too foreign. The plain clothes of their people suited her best. On her, the wine-red dress underneath her green Rider’s cloak outstripped any fine silk confection. Her hair, usually held back in tight braids or trapped underneath a war helm, flowed in free waves that tumbled to her waist and made his fingers ache with longing. 

To see her in this manner reminded him of what Rohirrim sacrifice had achieved: the end to a life of constant peril, and in its place, domestic bliss. Eomer knew he would be wholly content to look upon her this way forever. And by Bema, by all the Valar that might hear, he prayed that she would let him. 

Another mile or two passed in the bleak silence before the skies gave him the opening he needed. The faint drizzle that had lazily harried them gradually intensified into a downpour, and the menacing grey clouds above rumbled a fair warning. 

Eomer pointed to a copse of beeches in the distance. “That should suffice for us to wait out the worst of it,” he said, and they directed their horses into the thicket. 

After releasing Firefoot and Greywind to find cover and graze at their leisure, they took their shelter underneath the tree with the most generous canopy. As Eomer watched her gather the cascade of her soaked hair over one shoulder, she happened to raise her eyes in his direction and catch his gaze. Her face remained impassive, but she did not look away again. She knew she could no longer delay what he had requested her company for. 

“May we speak now?”

The tense lines on her brow softened. “My lord,” she said, in a tone that was almost contrite. “I am here to listen to whatever you wish to say.”

“Good,” Eomer said, and needed one more breath to steady himself. “Good...” 

"Long has there been great camaraderie between us as comrades in arms, but in time that deepened into…more meaningful affection.” When she did not flinch at that attestation, he carried on. “After last night, it is clear that we must lay bare the extent of our feelings and finally be open with each other."

Her mouth trembled. “My lord--”

“I love you,” Eomer said. “I recognize no plainer truth than that. I am no bard or scholar, and so it is hard for me to describe what I feel for you...as it would be hard for anyone to explain the glory of the sun or the vastness of the skies. But you must know that it is love, nonetheless."

She remained silent at this, and her clenched jaw told him no response was forthcoming. But he had more. 

“These past years, Rohan’s protection occupied all of my waking thoughts. There was no time to consider ambitions for myself. And what need did I have for that, when the sole object of my desires rode in my company to every battle? But after all our years together, I suppose I began to take for granted that you would always be close by, even while I drowned in fear that one sword stroke could separate us forever."

He edged a step closer to her, driven by the mere suggestion of such unspeakable loss. 

“When you grew distant after Theodred's passing, I awoke to my folly. I wished to blame your withdrawal from me on your grief, but my jealous mind whispered that my long buried suspicions were confirmed, that you had always desired his devotion over mine. I wrestled with the torment from it, until last night, when you gave me reason to hope again.” 

“But..but I did not…y-you had never…” She cut off her own stammering and squared herself determinedly before continuing. “I never found sufficient cause to believe you could care for me so, my lord.” 

“The fault is mine for not being forthright with you from the start. I will do whatever I must to remedy that now.” Suddenly they were face to face on the same side of the tree, for she had not thought to dart away from his advances this time. “I would shout it from the very spire of their great Tower if it will end your doubts.” 

He reached for her, and the edge of his hand found her chin. Contrary to his bold declaration he repeated, barely above a whisper: “I love you.” 

“No,” she murmured back. “Please. You must not say such things.” 

“Why not, when it is the truth?”

“Because it is a truth you cannot act on.”

Eomer’s hand dropped to his side as he barked a humorless laugh. “Granted I have not held the role for very long, but that seems a peculiar thing to tell a King.”

“You are the King now, and that binds you to do things according to your duty, not according to your desire.” She lowered her head. “That is the truth that matters, my lord. Love cannot always prevail over everything.”

The familiar frustration marked with dread clawed at Eomer again. “My love for you will prevail over this,” he vowed. “Moreso because it is love returned.”

Only the sound of splattering rainfall followed, and the realization that she was starting to turn away.

“You… you do love me.”

“I do not.”

The ensuing crack of thunder paled against the shock her reply struck in Eomer. She slipped away from his side once more while he fumbled through his recollections of the previous night.

Drunk as he had been on the taste of her kisses, he could not have misunderstood her impassioned outburst. You are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to!  He had dissected that precious confession over and over in his head and basked in sweeter hope that he had ever dared to feel about anything.

“I will not accept that. I do not believe it!”

In a handful of strides he overtook her as she fled to the edge of the grove, where the trees stood further apart and exposed them to the deluge. 

“What is causing you to deny me? Deny yourself, deny us?!” She attempted to step around him, but Eomer blocked her progress relentlessly. “Is it that misguided belief of yours that I am, in your words, ‘taken’?” 

Finally she succumbed and stood in place, cold and drenched and as stock-still as a soldier holding the line. But Eomer found the answer clear on her grimace. 

"Do you mistake me for some bull that has been put on the market for the highest bidder? Or believe me so feeble that I have no control over my choice of wife?!"

She stiffened at his rising rebuke and shook her head. “Not just a wife, my lord. A Queen. You must choose the right woman to offer to Rohan as our long-awaited Queen.”

“Marry me and it is done.”

Immediately her eyes widened and her face blanched, as his bluntness finally plowed through her shields.  “Oh Eomer,” she breathed, and the return of his name on her lips nearly rendered him as dazed as she was. 

He moved to embrace her, but she clutched him by the forearms, guarding her space. He felt her fingers tremble as they dug into the fabric of his tunic sleeves. He thought he might have heard a sob, but in the rain it was impossible to discern the source of the drops slipping down her cheeks. 

“I know you are wiser than that,” she told him. “You know Rohan’s political realities, regardless of your distaste for them. Your rise to your uncle’s throne has separated us by a chasm that cannot be bridged.” She sensed his intention to interrupt and spoke even louder. “I am an orphaned stray, Eomer. Theodred’s favor may have rescued me from a life of insignificance, but I am still baseborn by anyone's standards. Yet however lowly I am, I can hold my head up with pride, because I have always known my place.”

“As do I.” Eomer slid his hand up the curve of her neck. “Your place is with me.”

“Yes it is.” Her smile was joyless as she gripped his wrist to keep his obvious desires at bay. “I belong at your side, on the open fields, with a sword in my hand, ready to give my life for you at a moment's notice. You gifted me with purpose, and riding in your company has brought me such honor. Please do not ask me to play a role where I will only fail and return to an object of derision.”

Eomer frowned. “I have only ever loved you. No one else is suitable for me to take to wife.”

She lifted those beautiful eyes to stare dead-evenly at him for the first time in months. “Dol Amroth,” she whispered. “The daughter of Prince Imrahil.”

The sadness in her eyes lifted the fog of ignorance that obfuscated him. He recognized that pain as the very same one that had pierced him each time he watched her in Theodred’s company. The way they smiled at each other, their intimate touches, their freely exchanged affection that made his stomach twist with envy. But he had been wrong in his interpretation of that situation, and so was she on this one. 

“What of her?” he said brusquely, pushing aside his full realization of what she was implying. 

“One does not have to sit at the council table to see the soundness of your match.”

“There is no match!”

“Then there will be and there should be!” she insisted. “Everyone sees it, and if you tell me you do not, then you have no right to accuse me of denying what is true.”

A low growl rumbled off Eomer and suddenly he was the one to swivel away, rubbing his face and rain-matted beard while he weighed his answer.

“I do not deny that overtures have been made by advisors, both mine and King Elessar's," he said finally. "Lothiriel does seem an obvious candidate to put forward as a consort for the King of Rohan. But that appropriateness has nothing to do with me. Had Theodred survived to stand in my place, they would be pushing her to him. Have I been counseled on the benefits of an alliance with Imrahil's house? Oh yes--with the subtlety of a hammer's blow. But I barely paid heed to that, since all that mattered to me was your opinion on the subject."

"My opinion," she echoed. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her muddied boots for a long moment. "I can offer you what I know. You, Eomer King, will be the greatest ruler the Mark has ever seen. Your rule deserves every opportunity it can claim, and this offer of an alliance with Dol Amroth is one you cannot dismiss. I have heard nothing but praise and approval at the prospect, from mouths both common and noble."

"Princess Lothiriel is young, and beautiful, and beloved. Her blood is of the most distinguished and most powerful house in Gondor. She will give you exactly what you need. What Rohan needs."

She suddenly came forward to cradle Eomer's face between her hands, a touch he had only experienced in dreams until then. Except this was more akin to his worst nightmare. His inner wretchedness must have become evident in his furrowed brow and was too pitiful to ignore. "Moreover she will adore you, if she has not fallen already, for no maiden has ever lived whose heart you cannot ensnare.”

“Do not flatter me in one breath only to spurn me in the next,” Eomer muttered. “I did not ask for you to wax poetic about my future with another woman. I want your thoughts about all that matters. Us.”

“Us?”

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Eomer caught them in time, and held them firm against his chest, as if it could make her feel how consumed his heart was by her. 

“Once I might have carried hope for us,” she said softly. “Hope that I could one day be enough, because I knew you cared for Rohan above all else and admired my dedication to our people. I thought perhaps in time, that admiration might grow to love, as mine did so quickly after I met you."

“But it did, it--”

Her hands jerked inside his grip, their next attempt at escape futile. “Any hope I had for us died with Theodred,” she said tersely. “When his charge as the King's heir passed on to you. Let it rest with him.”

The roll of receding thunder brought Eomer back to a distinct memory of that dreadful day at Isen. The raw anguish on her face as she looked up at him with Theodred's head on her lap. Her frightened reluctance at releasing the prince for Eomer to take on Firefoot. 

It had rained too when Eomer came to bring her the news of his passing not a day later. Ignoring the heavy downpour, she ran out to meet him as he approached her cottage, and broke down before he could get the words out. He had to lead her back inside and wrap her in a blanket before she caught a chill. She clung tightly to him as he held her for a long while, bewildered by her sobs. It was the only time he had ever seen her weep. 

Only then did it dawn on Eomer: it was not just the loss of Theodred that she had mourned. 

“Run away with me.” 

It burst from his lips without a thought. 

“Wh-What? No!” She yanked away from him with such force he was left grasping for empty air. 

“Come with me, and let us run away together.” He rushed after her as she strode toward their horses. She already knew his mind, but he also knew hers, and there was nothing left for him to employ to sway her to his thinking. Nothing but this brazen proposal. 

“Away to where?!” she cried, without bothering to look his way. She came up to Greywind and seized her saddle pommel, but Eomer’s hand closed around hers, stilling her progress. 

“Anywhere. Far enough to take you away from all this--” Eomer swung out his free arm in a gesture as wild as the fervor in his eyes. “Away from everything that is confusing you.”

She started shaking her head vigorously and backing away. “Eomer, no. You are mad!”

“Do not tell me that!” Eomer lurched forward in pursuit, yet knew better than to grab her. She could not lose him out here where there was nowhere to hide. But he would lose her if she shut him out again by refusing to listen. 

“Do not tell me I am mad when the only madness is you believing we do not deserve a future together!” Each time he blocked her path, she pivoted in another direction, and he immediately swerved to repeat the dance. “Madness is you rejecting a man who yearns for you more than a mortal heart could possibly bear, clinging to the barefaced lie that you do not feel exactly the same.”

At that, she fell still. In the stillness Eomer realized that the rainstorm had finally dissipated, and in studying her face, he noticed the drops that continued to slip from the edges of her closed eyes, gliding to her quivering jaw. 

“You know as well as I that we belong together.” He caught one of the tears with the edge of his thumb, smoothing his finger over her soft, flushed skin. “So let us take the road west and… and just keep riding. Let me take you home. Our people here will follow soon enough, and when they arrive we can meet them as man and wife.”

“Eomer,” she sighed, before falling silent, her eyes still shut. He hoped she would take her time finding ease, so she may really consider his offer. But she responded immediately, too quickly, once again. “We cannot just abandon our obligations.”

“You insist we cannot, but we can. You can do whatever you wish. You just need to decide what that is--"

“No! No, no, no…” The word morphed into whimpers on her lips, an effort to drown him out.

“--and that is all I ask. That you shut out thoughts of all else and answer truly, from your heart." Something in Eomer’s throat tightened, as though an invisible hand had seized his neck and threatened to choke him. He swallowed and persisted with all the courage he could muster. "Will you marry me?"

“No.”

“Please.” It tasted bitter on his tongue, for Eomer son of Eomund had never begged for anything in his life, even as it took the last shreds of pride for him not to fall on his knees in his final bid. “I am asking you for the truth. Your truth alone. Do you want me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bearing the steely determination and battle strength that had won his respect years ago, and in that moment Eomer saw that that inner fire he loved would now crush him.

“No,” she answered. “I do not.”

To be continued in Part 3...

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[spinningalbinoturtle]

Lotr characters and their dogs (and other pets)

Frodo

Canonically not a dog person but also just has cat person vibes

He has two cats one of them is a chubby gray kitty named Luthien and she is incredibly spoiled. A birthday present from Bilbo

His other cat is a stray who hates everyone but Frodo- its super scrangly and Sam calls it Gollum and it stuck

After the Quest Frodo gets a little beagle service dog that helps him with PTSD and other medical stuff

Sam

Pre Quest had an old basset hound named Fingon. His dad said they didn’t have room for it but Sam insisted on feeding it and when he moved in with Frodo it came along.

Post quest he has a border collie named Ellie (short for Galadriel) who helps him replant the shire

He also keeps chickens at Bag End and spoils them a bit. They are just for eggs

Also has a little dairy cow for fresh milk. Her name is Bell after his mom

Merry

The Brandybucks have a pack of mastiffs and they love Merry. Frodo is terrified of them

They also have several feral maine coones that lounge around their manor and also love Merry but hate everyone else

Has a full size horse post quest which he is very proud of and scares the other hobbits. Its name is Theoden

Pippin

Lets be honest with ourselves Pippin has a lab who has the exact same personality as him and they go everywhere together. Its name is something really basic like Buddy

He also keeps turtles and has a whole menagerie for them. They’re all named after different foods

Aragorn

Aragorn has a husky/malamute that he found on his travels north. He howls back and forth with it and is convinced he can understand it. When he becomes king it sits at the foot of his throne and occasionally will randomly howl in the middle of a meeting.

Horse girl all the way. Brego is his bestie. Man takes excellent care of his horse and buys all kinds of extraneous shit for it.

Boromir

Denethor has a pack of vicious looking dogs but Boromir has a Dalmatian that loves him so much

Faramir adopts it for a while after Boromir dies but Faramir is much more of a cat person, so ultimately its adopted by Aragorn and becomes mates with his husky. The puppies go to his and Arwens kids

Legolas

This could go one of two ways-either he has a super graceful hunting dog like a greyhound or whippet or he has a little pomeranian he dresses up and treats like a baby

He has tried to domesticate the spiders with little success maybe because he’s also killed a lot of them

Gimli

Gimli is a terrier person. He has a little Scottish terrier who sits on his lap all the time when he’s working. Gimli made it a little sweater and it hates Legolas (its jealous of Legolas stealing Gimli’s attention).

He also keeps canaries and they are very well cared for and all have names and he’s the only one who can tell them apart

Eowyn

Has a massive Rottweiler who is super intimidating to everyone except Eowyn. It has bitten Grima multiple times. Around Eowyn it acts like a little puppy.

She also loves her horse as all Rohirrim do.

I could also see her as raising ferrets or chinchilas as well

Faramir

Firmly a cat person

Doesn’t mind dogs but vastly prefers cats

Has six of them and they’re all rescues. Their names are : Mithrandir, Radagast, Varda, Melian, Beren, and Pippin.

Eowyn indulges her crazy cat husband even when their house is overrun with kittens

Arwen

Also firmly a cat person

She’s fine Aragorn’s dog but that’s just cause its well trained

Usually just has one or two cats at a time. They’re a special breed from Lothlorien and they’re really beautiful. They like to sit on her lap and purr. They’re also vicious mousers.

Eomer

Has a big great dane who hangs out in Edoras. Its super sweet and dorky. Everyone loves it.

[ofstardustanddreaming]

well loved

preference summary: what they do to remind you you're loved.

content warnings: none

fandom: the lord of the rings

characters: frodo, sam, pippin, merry, boromir, faramir, aragorn, legolas, arwen, eowyn, eomer, galadriel, elrond (if other characters are wanted for future preferences, let me know!)

gender neutral reader

Frodo: He always checks in on you, always wanting to make sure you were doing okay. He's one of those who is more in tune with emotions, and wanting to check in on emotional wellbeing. He wants you to know you'll always have someone to lean on, and he shows you love through his active listening of your problems.

Sam: He's the type to do small tasks around the house for you, wanting to make sure you don't have to worry about anything. He sets up a routine that's nice and homey. He wouldn't have you lifting a finger if he could, wanting to make sure you can be relaxed. You would have to step in at some points, saying you'd want to split the work.

Pippin: He makes you very well included on any inside jokes, wanting to you to know what it's like. He showed his love through humorous jokes, saying he always wanted to see your smile. His love may have been shown through jokes, but he made you feel truly seen, which was a wonderful way to be reminded you're loved by him.

Merry: He loves to give you parts of his food, wanting to make sure you were well fed. He feels wellbeing is tied to being well fed, so he wants to make sure you get a fair share. And I think that Merry himself likes to try cooking once in a while, and likes to give some cooking to you.

Boromir: He always carves out time in his schedule to spend quality time with you. He always loves to have meals together with you, wanting to make it romantic, with something as simple as bringing flowers for the vase in the middle. He shows his love through any amount of time spent with you, wanting to shower you with his compliments.

Faramir: He has subconscious movements to make sure you're okay and safe. Such as holding out a hand during hikes in an area that's heavily rooted, wanting to make sure of your safety to help you balance and find your way. He also loves to place a hand on your back in crowded areas. He always has a special look of love, reserved just for you.

Aragorn: He always likes to recite poetry or songs he comes across that reminds him of you. He always gives you the softest of looks during those moments, and these moments are usually done by the fires in your room. He usually has your back against him, as he whispers them into your ear.

Legolas: He finds a variety of plants that reminds him of you, always bringing them back for you to look at or put somewhere that you deem cool. It's gotten to the point where there's almost too many flowers in your living space, but you also don't have the heart to tell him to stop. It's really sweet to see the variety of flowers he hand picked for you.

Arwen: She loves to sneak kisses from you throughout the day. She's playful, so her showing her love is through playful ways. She loves to take you off guard of when she'll kiss you, and she always loves hearing your laugh afterwards. She loves to watch you get flustered, laughing as she rushes away.

Eowyn: She loves quality time to, wanting to spend time with you. Her favorite ways to showing you love is teaching you some of her favorite moves in training. She shows you what she has learned, and also wants to learn what you know. She wants to make sure the both of you are prepared for anything, and it's a nice way to spend time with each other.

Eomer: He loves to go horseback riding with you. It provides a time where the two of you can talk in peace, where he doesn't feel the pressure of the kingdom. He loves talking with you here, where the two of you don't feel watched. It's a sense of freedom to speak your minds, but the act of horseback riding allows you to go anywhere. He loves to explore with you that way.

Galadriel: She loves turning to you for advice. She may not always agree, but she loves to hear what you have to say. She finds that hearing a variety of perspectives helps her, and she feels that it helps her get closer to you. She always likes to hear what you have to say about some decisions in how she runs her kingdom.

Elrond: He likes to spoil you, simple as that. It doesn't even have to be buying you many things, although he loves doing that as well. It can be just as well showering you with praise, or giving you his full attention, even if it means ignoring his work for a little bit. He loves at his fullest, spoiling you with many things you love.

[a-burr-a-hobbit]

For your "Defending" prompt game:

“that’s enough.” - Eomer, please! We are in desperate need of more fics for him. :D

Thank you!

Eomer x Reader

CW: Abuse, injury

WC: 1402

Before Theodred dies, the two princes are the most handsome and eligible bachelors in Rohan. Most of the girls are attracted to Theodred, but you have always had eyes only for the younger Prince Eomer. You doubt he’ll ever even notice you exist, until one day…

You smile as the princes walk past you, neither of them giving you or the other serving girls a glance. The crown prince, Theodred, is the taller and more muscular of the two, and the other serving girls always giggle when he walks past. His rugged masculinity has always scared you though, and you have often found your eyes lingering rather on his cousin, Eomer. 

Prince Eomer is handsome, his arms chiseled from long hours of training, his hair long and curly, and his eyes piercing and deep. But there was something beyond that. Something that made you want to talk to him, to listen to what he said, something that drew your eyes to him every time he entered the room you were in. He was kind too. You had seen it time and again, anytime there was a villager who was injured or needed help, Prince Eomer would do all he could to help them. Of course, you knew that part of that was because of the duty he felt to his people and to his uncle the King, but you had also seen him give his own food to a child who dropped theirs in the mud or help an old woman across the street. You knew that that wasn’t just duty, it was something else, something in his soul, a kindness. And that drew you to him.

*pop* 

You snap out of your musings as a stick comes down sharp on your hand. You look up to see the scowling face of Madam Humphrey staring you down. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing girl?” She hisses at you. 

“Dusting!” You say cheekily, holding the duster up for her to see. She grabs your hand, squeezing tightly, and you try your best not to grimace from the pain.

“Don’t lie to me, girl. I know you think you’re special because the boys think you’re beautiful, but the Princes are off limits to,” - she scoffs - “serving girls.” 

You want to laugh at her ridiculous belief that boys find you pretty. Maybe some do, but you really don’t think any of the boys find you particularly attractive. Instead, you nod your head and Madam Humphrey drops your hand with a scowl. 

“Get back to work girl,” she growls. You nod again and turn back to your dusting. Madam Humphrey has never liked you and you have learned to accept that, until lately. Now, every chance she gets, she berates and belittles you, and she has been using her punishment stick on you much more often than she used to. 

You sigh a sigh of relief as she walks away and you can get back to your dusting. After you finish, you head down to the kitchens to get some dinner to bring back to your room. 

You walk quietly into the kitchen, slinking between the cooks and kitchen maids as they finish cleaning up from the family’s dinner. In one corner of the room is a table piled with leftovers and a pot of soup, the dinner set aside for the indoor servants. You smile in excitement when you see a few pieces of cheese on the table. The leftover food from the great hall is free to servants, but it’s first come first serve, and often when you arrive downstairs there are none of your favorite things left, so this is an unexpected joy. 

You grab a bowl of soup, and a plate for the rest of your food and begin picking things off of the platters of leftovers. You grab a chunk of bread, a few grapes, and an apple before turning your attention to the platter of meat and cheese. You reach for a piece of cheese, but just as you do a hand grabs your hand, forcing you to drop the piece you snatched up. Clenching your jaw, you turn toward the owner of the hand. Madam Humphrey stood behind you scowling, holding your hand away from the cheese and meat platter.

“You forget your place girl,” she growls in your face, her breath bathing your face in stench. You try to pull your hand away, but she refuses to let go, holding tighter as she continues to berate you.

“You are a serving girl. You are to clean and do chores and look pretty. You act like you’re entitiled” -she spits out the word- “to a life of luxury.” 

“I don’t believe I am entitled to anything ma’am, I was just trying to get my dinner and saw that there was some cheese on the platter…” your voice trailed off as you see the anger boiling over on Madam Humphrey’s face. A door creaks open and for a moment you hope it is one of the guards or one of your friends who will try to stop Madam Humphrey, but the person just goes about their business without getting involved. You turn back to Madam Humphrey as she tightens her grip on your hand, twisting it away from your wrist until it’s painful.

“You” -she twists harder-

“Are” - and harder- “Nothing.” With the final word you hear a deafening *pop* and your eyesight goes dark for a second as overwhelming pain shoots through your arm. You hold back a scream, letting out only a small whimper. 

“That’s enough!” The voice doesn’t belong to anyone you know, but it is loud and commanding enough for Madam Humphrey to drop your hand. 

Pain washes over you in waves, radiating up from your hand. You step away from Madam Humphrey and step toward your savior. 

“Where did she hurt you?” The voice asks gruffly. You raise your hand weakly, squeaking in pain as you do. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you manage to breath out, “I’m going to faint now.”

You look up, your vision getting dark, and collapse. 

When you come to you’re laying in the most comfortable bed you have ever been in. You feel like you’re laying on a cloud, and the blankets are the warmest and heaviest you have ever felt. As you lay there, you hear a door open. Your memory sharpens and you look down at your wrist to see it wrapped in a clean white bandage with a splint. You listen to the door close, and footsteps approaching the bed you’re laying in. 

You sit bolt upright and find yourself face to face with… Prince Eomer.

You gasp as you take in his strong features and kind smile. 

“How do you fare my lady?” He asks, standing over you as you sit on the bed.

“I...I’m alright,” you stutter, “What happened? Where am I?” 

“I found the head maid abusing you in the kitchen. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late to stop her from hurting your wrist.” The princes shoulders sagged. “I’m truly sorry for that. As for where you are, you are in my room. When you fainted I caught you and I wanted to bring you somewhere where I knew you would be safe.”

While he is talking you get out of the bed, slip your shoes back on, and head toward the door. 

“Th-thank you sire.” You curtsy and move toward the door again.  

“Wait.” He says the word so gently and you can’t help but freeze. 

“You’re very beautiful.” He moves toward you and grabs you good arm with his large hand, encompassing it gently. You blush, looking down.

“Are you married, or betrothed?” Your eyes fly to his and you shake your head back and forth slowly. 

“Would you…” he pauses, latkes a deep breath and starts again, “Would you accept advances? Of a romantic nature. From”- he pauses again- “me?” 

You gasp.

“Y-y-yes my lord. Any girl… any girl would be crazy to defy a prince of Rohan.” You look down, but his hand cups your chin and guides it back up to look at him. 

“But would you be resigned? Or would you welcome them?” His hand still holds your chin.

“I would be honored to be courted by a man so noble and kind as yourself my lord.” You say, hoping your eyes portray your feelings where your words fail to do so. You seem to succeed, because the prince nods, and moving the hand on your chin to the back of your head, leans down and catches your lips in a very gentle, very brief kiss. 

[torchwood-99]

Eowyn became a healer after the books ended. So Eowyn would have had to be trained, alongside other trainee healers.

What I'm saying is, after ROTK, after helping Eomer rebuild Rohan, Eowyn went to university.

I bet you, after all that misery, after all that confinement and isolation and years of feeling her potential going to waste, she loved that student life.

I have headcanons of the Lady of Rohan and new Princess of Ithilien balancing her diplomatic duties, with her as a newly liberated young adult throwing herself into her uni days.

You know Eowyn went wild during freshers' week.

It doesn't matter she has classes in the morning and then a diplomatic reception that King Elessar personally invited her to, she's doing shots. It's ok, her husband will come pick her up. He's so lovely, he treats her like a princess. Because she is literally a princess. And yeah, she has an essay due, but she'll take it along with her to the state dinner and get it done there, so she's totally free for a scavenger hunt. Ultimate Frisbee in the gardens of the Houses of Healing, anyone?

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Bellona’s videos masterlist - movies - part 1 (The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit...)

The Lord of the Rings

Boromir and Aragorn meet in Rivendell

The Council of Elrond

Arrival at Lothlorien

The Three Hunters meet Eomer and the Rohirrim

Charge of the Rohirrim

*****

The Hobbit

Gandalf meets Thorin at The Prancing Pony

*****

Push

Opening narration by Cassie Holmes

*****

Taking Lives

“You have something that I want. Therefore, it’s mine”

*****

A Knight’s Tale

William finds his father

Introducing Paul Bettany as Geoffrey Chaucer

*****

Knives Out

Ransom confesses killing Fran and attempts to murder Marta

*****

The Breakfast Club

Dancing scene

*****

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me

Dale Cooper talks to Sam Stanley

First meeting of agent Desmond and agent Stanley.

Agent Desmond and agent Stanley talk to Irene

Agent Desmond and Agent Stanley examine the body of Theresa Banks

*****

Van Helsing

The Holy Order

*****

Bordello of Blood

Corey Feldman as Caleb Verdoux

*****

Mad Max: Fury Road

Meeting the Vuvalini

*****

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Jacob meets Nicolas Flamel

*****

The Old Guard

Andy learns an important lesson

“Her name was Quynh”

*****

The Crow

Initial narration by Sarah

Darla is cured by Eric and begins to rebuild her relationship with Sarah.

*****

Kill Bill

Black Mamba (The Bride/Beatrix Kiddo) vs. Gogo Yubari

*****

Stand by Me

Chris’ gun and Dennis’ cap

Gordie confronts Ace

*****

The Mummy

“I… am a librarian!”

*****

Dragonheart

Draco heals Prince Einon

Bowen names Draco and Dragons’ Heaven

Bowen meets the spirit of King Arthur

*****

Kickboxer: Vengeance

Kurt trains with master Durand - part one

Kurt trains with master Durand - part two

*****

Lady Bloodfight

The first round of the Kumite - part one of four

The second round of the Kumite - part two

Jane vs Svietta - part three

The final of the Kumite - part four

*****

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Lucy meets Tumnus

Meeting Aslan

The coronation of the Kings and Queens of Narnia

*****

St. Trinian’s

Annabelle arrives at the school and meets the various cliques

*****

The Three Musketeers

“Three duels in one day…”

*****

Dream a Little Dream

Bobby asks Lainie out

*****

Aquaman

“Are you that fish boy from the TV?”

The story of Tom and Atlanna - part one

The story of Tom and Atlanna - part two

*****

Night at the Museum

Larry releases Ahkmenrah

*****

Footloose

Ren teaches Willard to dance

Ren anger-dancing to Moving Pictures’s Never

The tractor chicken race

*****

The Warriors

The Warriors & the other gangs

Swan and Mercy’s conversation on the tracks

The Warriors vs. The Punks

*****

Eagle vs Shark

Lily and Jarrod

*****

Flatliners

Nelson convinces David to help him

David Labraccio apologizes to Winnie Hicks for having bullied her when they were kids

*****

Renegades

Buster and Hawk learn to work together

*****

Maleficent

Diaval is transformed into a man

*****

Hellboy: The Golden Army

Prologue

Hellboy and Liz meet the Angel of Death

*****

Fight Club

The rules

*****

The Green Knight

The Green Knight issues his challenge

Gawain meets Winifred

*****

Brotherhood of the Wolf

Mani fighting

*****

Gunpowder Milkshake

Sam meets the Librarians

*****

The Village

Lucius and Ivy on the porch

*****

The Kid Who Would Be King

Prologue

Merlin’s debut

Merlin talks to Alex and Bedders

*****

Seven Sisters / What Happened to Monday

Adetomiwa “Tomiwa” Edun as Eddie the doorman

*****

Young Guns

William Bonney arrives at Tunstall’s ranch

Dinner and reading at Tunstall’s

*****

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword

Prologue

Arthur grows up in the brothel

Arthur pulls the sword from the stone

Jack’s Eye visits Arthur

*****

The Last Witch Hunter

Kaulder speaks to Bronwyn

*****

Priest

Prologue

*****

6 Underground

“We find a Seven.”

Ben Hardy as Four/Billy

Ben Hardy as Four/Billy (II)

Manuel Garcia Rulfo as Three/Javier

*****

The 13th Warrior

“The thirteenth man must be no Northman.”

*****

Logan Lucky

Jimmy defends Clyde when a bar patron bullies him

*****

Legion

Michael talks to Jeep and to Gabriel

*****

Rebel Moon – Part One: A Child of Fire

Tarak tames the bennu

*****

DOA: Dead or Alive

Tina Armstrong is invited to the DOA

Christie Allen is invited to the DOA

Princess Kasumi is invited to the DOA

*****

Night Watch

Prologue

Anton meets Olga

Day Watch

Anton and Olga swap bodies

Anton's confession to Svetlana

*****

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

Edgin and Holga's story - part one

Edgin and Holga's story - part two

*****

xXx

Rammstein perform Feuer Frei!

*****

Django Unchained

Schultz frees Django

Django tells Schultz about Broomilda

Schultz reunites Django and Broomhilda

*****

Bellona's masterlist

[elvish-sky]

LOTR and The Hobbit Characters Taking Care of a Chronically Ill S/O

requested by the lovely @tolkien-fantasy !

Faramir

Faramir would be caring and compassionate but also let you still run your own life. Faramir would take care of you and he’s a good cook that would make the foods that made you feel the best all the time. He knows what it’s life to struggle and be overlooked, even in a different way, and so he’d always pay attention to what you wanted. He’d be there to help you on bad days and enjoy getting to live life with you on any day, because he loved you that much.

Eowyn

Eowyn understands fighting yourself and also struggling to keep up with others. She would encourage you to push yourself but above all prioritize taking care of you. She take you on adventures and know when you needed to rest, but still be able to see the world. although make sure someone else is doing the cooking! (Eomer wouldn’t doom you to that torment)

Dwalin

Dwalin would always be there to protect and take care of you. But he’d also train you to fight, on days you were able to move well, still always watching you to make sure you were okay. Because Dwalin knows how much being independent means to you.

Fíli

As the heir to the throne, Fíli knows a lot about responsibility. But he also knows a lot about love and compassion, which is why he’s such an amazing partner for you. With Fíli you learn about the world and it’s people, sometimes spending nights curled up together with books as he asks for your advice and you learn together. He cares for you because he loves you and knows how important you are not just to him but also to Erebor (and to the elves, for without your level-headed-ness around Erebor’s crown prince negotiations would be much more difficult).

Sam

Sam fell in love with you because he could see the strength inside you, even in the body that sometimes failed you. You kept him company while he cooked and tended to his garden, sitting in your favorite chair that he’d put wheels on so that it could go wherever you did. And small, thoughtful gestures like that happened all the time with Sam. He cooked all your favorite foods just to make you happy and on your birthday every year he trimmed his garden into some sweet message.

*****

everything tag! @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @acahope311 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @errruvande

fili tag! @laurfilijames @erosofthepen

[ericas-fate]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a lotr and hobbit ship request? My pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual.

Personality: I originally come off as quiet, and aloof. It can seem standoffish but I don’t mean it too I just don’t trust very easily and am uncomfortable with strangers/new environments. I am my best when I am by myself or with my closest friends. With my closest friends I’m quite open, fun and talkative especially when talking abt things that interest me. Im quite the good listener as well when it comes to my more extroverted friends. Im also introverted, imaginative, creative, individualistic, reserved, structured and picky in my own way, all sprinkled with a little bit of sarcastic humor.

Hobbies: Digital Art is probably my biggest hobby. If I could I would spend all day at home with my trusty tablet and stylus drawing with an audiobook of my favorite novel/tv show running in the background. Apart from art I absolutely love working out. I kickbox and weight lift most days of the week. Lastly I love playing video games, spending time at comic book stores, the movies and coffee shops.

Interests: I work in the digital media arts and love creative coding, interaction design, and computer graphics. I think my favorite thing is that combination between the artistic and the technological.

Love language: this one is definitely acts of service.

Thank you!

Lord of the Rings: Eowyn

Whenever, Eowyn first met you she instantly knew that you were someone she’d like to be around. She couldn't help but beam every time you'd spend time with her. Before she knew it, she had a crush developing. It started off from whenever you would show her your art and designs. They would truly fascinate her, and she would develop a deep understanding as to why you were so passionate about your artistic career. It would make her quite happy to see how much joy it brought you, so she couldn't help but ask about what you were going to draw next and whether or not you could create something for her. Although, she would not be able to grasp the extremes of the technology that you used for your art, she would try her hardest to make herself understand it. She would even find herself exploring different creative ideas. She'd love how she felt around you and how contagious your creativity was.

Eowyn would fall for you even more, whenever she would discover that your love language was acts of service. Because that would mean that everything she would do for you would mean so much more. She would feel secure with the thought of you being the one, especially since you were such a good listener and supportive towards her. Knowing that you had interest in working out and kickboxing, would motivate her to continue her training regardless of what Eomer would think. It would make her more confident in herself and her abilities. She would be thrilled to know she had something very meaningful with someone she loves.

The Hobbit: Thorin

Thank you so much for the request, I hope you liked your matchup!

Thorin didn't know what to expect whenever he first met you, especially since he had thought you were being a tad quiet and standoffish. Although, it didn't bother him, he did find it quite interesting how you acted much differently than the way his nephews had talked about you. Whenever the two of you got closer after time, he soon realized how similar you two were. He'd quickly understand why you came off the way you did, especially since he also gets uncomfortable around strangers. He'd find you quite charming, knowing that he could talk to you and feel as though you both were on the same page.

Thorin would love whenever you would show him your interests, and what you liked to do for fun. He'd especially love to watch you draw, because to him it was extremely impressive and interesting how you could create something so incredible out of a blank canvas. He'd love spending time with you, especially listening to all the stories that you’ve heard and he too would share a few he’s heard in his time. Thorin would also be impressed that you weight lifted, and even could kickbox. He would feel comfortable knowing that you were able to handle yourself, especially since the Lonely Mountain could be a very dangerous place. Thorin would be very thrilled if you decided to stay regardless of how dangerous it was, he'd still promise to protect you and that he'll always be there if you would need him.

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Footsteps posted, 11-9-22)

Eomer and his son have something in common.  (Fluff)

 Footsteps  -  (Sep, 10 IV)

The festival had been underway for over an hour, and already Lothiriel found herself in difficulty. For events such as this, she and Eomer preferred to attend as a family, and so Daelwyn, the childrens’ nurse, was not helping her. 

Just about the time Theomund began squalling with hunger, her two-year-old, Theodwyn, decided she was in need of maternal attention.  Lothiriel was seated at a table, wrestling with the two children when Eomer appeared at her side.  He had noticed, from where he had been standing conversing with some of the men, the demands being put on his wife and had hurried to assist her. 

Scooping Theodwyn up in his arms, he said, “Theodwyn, will you come and keep Papa company?” Delighted, the little girl giggled and hugged his neck in affirmation, and Eomer winked at his wife who was smiling at him with gratitude.  Eomer strode away and Lothiriel moved toward a tent that was set up for mothers to suckle their children.

A few tickles, an occasional word and Eomer was able to keep his young daughter amused even as he continued talking to his friends, and at length she finally gave a huge yawn and fell asleep on his shoulder.  He smiled down at her as he noticed the absence of her chatter, and rubbed her back to help her continue in slumber.

When she awoke some while later, Theodwyn lay there sleepily for a time and then reached for the tankard her father was holding.  “Dirsty, Papa.  Dirsty!”

Grinning he held it out of her reach.  “Not that, little one!  I will find you something more suitable to drink than ale!”  She wriggled and squirmed, trying to get to his drink until a woman nearby, who had overheard, handed him a cup.

“Here is some apple juice, my lord,” she offered.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged, setting down the tankard to take the cup and help Theodwyn drink from it. Her eagerness and squirming meant she soon had quite a bit of it down the front of her and Eomer, but apparently she got enough inside to satisfy her.

Just then, it was time for Eomer to make a speech to the assembly, and he wound his way to the raised platform prepared for his use. 

Off to the side, Elfwine stood with several other boys.  All were admiring the new knife Freawine had received, but at the sound of his father’s voice, Elfwine turned to listen.  His friends glanced up, but speeches were of no interest to them, even ones given by the king.

Theodwyn was delighted to be looking down on all those people.  However, her talking and wriggling in his arms was rapidly proving disruptive to Eomer’s speech.  He continued to grapple with Theodwyn as Lothiriel appeared at the back of the audience. Even though he saw her, Eomer did not feel he could foist their daughter off on her while she was tending the baby, so he persevered in his struggle, valiantly trying not to lose his train of thought.

Just when he was ready to hand Theodwyn to anyone who would take her, someone appeared at his side. He looked down to find Elfwine standing there, his arms outstretched to his sister.  “Theodwyn, come with me,” the boy wheedled.

Gleefully, Theodwyn almost leapt out of Eomer’s arms towards her beloved brother, squealing with delight. Eomer ruffled Elfwine’s hair in gratitude before the boy carried Theodwyn away, and then resumed his speech.

Lothiriel watched her family’s interactions unfold before her and could not restrain a joyous tear. Yes, Elfwine was a fine son, and just as he would one day follow in his father’s footsteps as king, already he was doing so in his behavior.  She hugged the baby closer and smiled with contentment.

THE END

also on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/42555441/chapters/107960391

[warhirrim]

hc: fatherhood. As we know, Théoden entered fatherhood rather tragically with the death of his wife, Elfhild, who passed in childbirth. The conflicting emotions would have been unfathomably difficult to compartmentalize. He would have experienced both the greatest and the worst moments of his life simultaneously --- Théodred was his pride, his bundle of joy, his only son, but Elfhild, his one, true love (he would never remarry). In fatherhood, he was utterly alone.

Then, just two years later, a new obstacle. His father passed, making him the next King of Rohan.

One might expect he would have no time to tend to little Théodred, that he would be absent, what with overseeing an entire realm, no wife by his side. But they would be wrong. Albeit busy, Théoden devoted as much time as possible in being an active, present, and loving participant in Théodred’s life. Undoubtedly, there was his mother, caretakers, servants, and tutors who aided --- it would have been easy to relegate all rearing to them --- but what his son needed was his dad. So he would refuse to miss those milestones and refuse to not watch his boy grow; he would teach his son to walk and talk, tell his son stories at night, teach him right from wrong, and be there with him the first time his little hands clamored up a horse, then onto armor, then a sword. It was exhausting, caring for two worlds. But it was more than Théoden’s duty. It wasn’t enough to just be a father. He wanted to be a dad.

By the time he’d adopted little Éomer and Éowyn to raise, his heart broken by the death of his beloved little sister, he’d already been a father for 24 years. A king, for 22. But as we can see from The Lord of the Rings and how dearly Éomer, and particularly Éowyn, loved their uncle --- even beyond uncle, truly. He was more than that to them, and he loved them as though his very own --- it’s clear that being a single father of three and a king did not interfere with his ability to actually be a dad. What’s more, the two even considered their cousin Théodred to be more like a brother. And who could blame them? The royal family of Rohan was a very tight-knit, loving, and tender family, and Théoden, despite being stretched thin in duties and responsibilities, was absolutely unwilling to sacrifice being a father to these children. He had so much love to give, and given how noble, brave, and kind they all grew to be, Théoden succeeded in both fatherhood and his kingship --- and he was undoubtedly proud of them all.

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC) - Part 3 of 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: After having his proposals and professions rejected by the woman he loves, Éomer still refuses to be dissuaded. He vows to continue fighting for a future with her--even if that means having to let go for the time being.

Word count: 6.7k

Dedicated to anyone who has ever known the pain of loving someone you could not have. <3

Content: Boromir lives (!), angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, Éomer King, Rohirrim OCs, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Sensuality gets steamy, but nothing explicit. Mentions of old battle injuries.

To Read on AO3: Link

Taken 

PART THREE

Third Age 3019 May 6

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“If you would allow me to propose something your Grace, I--”

“Éomer.” The King of Rohan growled the ungentle correction with an irritated shake of his head. “If I have leave from your king to continue calling him Elessar, then I will not abide frivolous formalities from you…Captain. And speak freely! It is your candor that I came here for, as much as your counsel."

Boromir chuckled faintly. “Very well.” He downed the last of the wine in his goblet before picking up the jug to refill it, then reaching across the table to serve his guest as well. 

While Éomer took a hearty swig, Boromir used the extra seconds of silence to weigh his next words. The noble horse-lord had done most of the talking since his arrival at the house not an hour ago, rambling on with barely contained agitation that would have frightened or offended anyone unfamiliar with his character. But Boromir had known Théodred’s cousin since he was a child, and while he was not nearly as close to Éomer as he had been with the late Prince of Rohan, their friendship had deepened enough--especially over the past few months--to familiarize Boromir with the trigger points of his temper. 

And Boromir had never before seen him more sensitive about a topic than the matter they had at hand. 

Love certainly wields such terrible power over a man, the Captain-General of Gondor mused, before clearing his throat. 

“I will gladly fulfill your request of watching over her in your absence, making sure she is well-treated and wants for nothing,” he began. “But a soldier can quickly grow restless without sufficient martial exercise.” 

“I agree.” Éomer leaned forward to fold his arms across the table. “Has she not been here long enough for your men to grow accustomed to seeing her at the training grounds? None of them need spar against her or even alongside her if they do not wish to. She would be content to practice drills on her own. In fact, she may even prefer it.”  

“My men will tolerate her presence just fine. The valor she showed on Pelennor was well-witnessed, and stories of it have circulated around our garrison,” Boromir said. “I admit she may inevitably overhear crass remarks from some passing boor among the citizenry. A woman warrior still remains an oddity in these parts. But I am sure she did not come to her status without learning how to weather such criticisms.” 

“Yes.” Éomer stared at the empty goblet he rotated slowly between his hands. “She has had to bear with a lot of ignorant talk over the years.”

“Which is why I propose taking her as a member of my company while you are away. Just temporarily,” Boromir added quickly, noting the immediate change in the horse-lord's demeanor. “It will help her feel more at ease while here, separated from you and her countrymen, if she had a group to belong to.”

“She has already taken a strong liking to your Aerdis. Which, I must confess, took me by surprise.”

Boromir smiled at this, his fool heart ready to burst with joy at every casual mention of his betrothed. “My lady is an easy one to love,” he said simply. “And indeed, the two seem to enjoy each other's company. I am certain Aerdis would be happy to continue acquainting her with all of her treasured haunts within the city and even beyond its walls. But…” 

He rubbed his jaw slowly, ever the unconscious tell of his discomfort with the situation at hand. But it was no use dancing around the real counsel he wished to present to Éomer King. “When it comes to daily labors, a shield-maiden will likely be happier with work better suited to her talents.”

Éomer cocked an eyebrow, clearly undeceived by Boromir’s attempts at off-handedness. “What sort of work? I sense you have something specific in mind.”

“I do,” Boromir admitted. “And I shall explain it to you plainly, although I will first say that it is both a suggestion and a request for a favor.” At this point he considered offering Éomer another refill of his drink, but the deepening scowl on the man’s face made him think better of it. “As you may have heard, I have been charged by King Elessar to lead the delegation that will treat with the Southrons. Sadhar has already come forward with an offer to parley, as soon as next month.”

Éomer’s eyes widened; he caught on even faster than Boromir had expected him to. “And you wish to include her in your delegation?”

“With your approval, yes.”

“You do not have it!” Éomer exclaimed. “And how could you propose such a thing?! Have you forgotten how she was so nearly dragged off by those animals to be taken who knows where for purposes I dare not even think of?”

“Are you really asking that of the man who came to her aid?”

It was a risky move to prod at that wound, but Éomer looked properly chastised by it. “You rescued her,” he conceded. “And for that I shall eternally be in your debt. But I cannot pretend to understand why you wish to involve her in any dealings with Harad.”

“You must see why I thought of her,” Boromir insisted. “You, who can personally attest to what she is capable of.” But Éomer continued to look too distraught to think, so he laid the rest out. “I can count on the fingers of one hand every person I know who can speak a Haradric dialect with reliable accuracy. Half of them died in the war.”

Éomer rose abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in his state. Muttering indistinctly, he turned his back to Boromir to glare out the nearest window and brood at the rain lashing against the glass panes. 

“When Théodred used to boast to me about her, I dismissed it as a mentor's pride in his fanciful protégé,” Boromir continued. “I suppose I too allowed myself to be distracted by her sex. But she really is a hidden gem in your Éored, is she not? Your cousin invested in her training with great thoughtfulness, and it has borne fruit marvelously. He really believed--”

Éomer slammed the heel of his hand on the window frame. “Théodred was not the one hopelessly in love with her for so many years! There lies the difference!” he snapped. “So when you ask for my consent to take her to meet with our enemies, consider that you are asking me to risk the life of the woman I absolutely refuse to live my own life without!”

And while Boromir reacted with silence, he stood there, breathing hard, one fist on his hip and the other hand pressed over his forehead. “Forgive me,” he mumbled. “The wine, I…and I have scarcely slept since--”

Boromir waved off the apology. “I understand your agony well. It was not long ago that I lived through the same, and just mercifully survived to a happy end. I am on your side, Éomer. I know politics and duty might make the lines difficult to discern, but I hope you can believe that.”

“I believe it.” Éomer made another weary swipe of his hand across his face. “At least I think I do. Too many things are changing too quickly, and I fear a failure to keep in step shall result in my simply being dragged along behind everyone else like an unhorsed sot.”

“Then maybe there is wisdom in her request to stay behind and out of your way. The time apart may provide you the focus you need to regain your footing.”

The tired lines on Éomer’s face tightened again. “And why must time apart involve setting her on a perilous road?”

“The mission carries little chance of peril. Peace talks, even with Harad, are nothing compared to everything she has survived to get this far. You know this.” Éomer brushed past Boromir to return to the table, but the captain’s frank reproach pursued him. “Separation from her is what you dread, not the Southrons.”

So furiously did Éomer scowl at the table surface that for a moment Boromir thought he might turn the heavy shelf over in a fit of rage. Instead he seized the wine jug, poured himself a gobletful, and drank it in two forceful gulps. 

“I had hoped you could give me counsel on how I might change her mind, and convince her to simply come home,” he finally said. “Perhaps even quell her doubts in the future she can have with me.”

Underneath the anger and frustration, Éomer’s raw misery lay bare to Boromir, and suddenly he felt a swell of compassion for the young king. Would that he could offer a swift resolution to his predicament, instead of mere commiseration for the challenges that still lay ahead. 

“However hard it is to hear, separation is the soundest advice I can give you today,” Boromir said. “Time and distance are most effective at calming the storm in one's mind, so that the heart may have its chance to be properly heard. Many have learned this from experience, myself included. I believe it shall be the same for your lady.”

Éomer's shoulders heaved in a ponderous sigh. “If only it did not feel like such a gamble.”

Boromir could not help a chuckle. “Then I regret I must tell his majesty, that you cast your first of many dice the moment you let her take your heart. But in the end, you shall be the one to decide how much you are willing to risk, and you alone decide when you are done.”

The anguish that resurged on Éomer's face was almost a relief to Boromir. The King of Rohan was wise enough to already know the graver half of the truth: that his new throne was in many ways a cage, and there was very little a good ruler could afford to risk in pursuit of his own desires. 

* * *

“Take the names of any fools who might give you trouble,” Léodor said, unhooking the reins of his horse to start leading it across the muddy yard. “I can sort them all out on our return.”

You laughed as you followed him to the edge of the farmland property, marked by the scorched ruins of what had once been a granary. “Do you really think I could wait that long without sorting such fools out myself?” 

“Anyone with the gall to harass a rider of the king’s Éored deserves a second dose of thrashing, or a third or fourth.” Your friend turned to grasp your forearm and give it a firm squeeze. “Although I sincerely hope these men of Gondor would know better, for their own sakes.”

“They are our allies, now more than ever before,” you reminded him. “And I have every confidence in their courtesy and hospitality.”

“Perhaps if you were less of a recluse and better at making friends, I would not worry so.”

Your knuckles barely grazed his sleeve as he darted away and promptly swung up to the safety of his saddle, chortling and calling, “You are only proving my point, sister!” 

“Waste not a thought or care on me, and focus them all on your family!” you retorted, and stepped back as he spurred his horse forward. “Westu Léodor hál!”

You watched him gallop off across the plains of Pelennor, back to the distant towers of the White City. Tomorrow, he and the rest of the Éored would finalize preparations for the greatly anticipated journey home. But as soon as he heard that you had been tasked with staying behind, to remain with the body of Théoden King, Léodor alone took the time to come looking for you. 

Whatever his suspicions regarding Éomer's selection of you as the one to leave in Gondor, Léodor spoke nothing of them. He was content to spend his entire visit sharing the cask of ale he brought, and talking your ears off about all the things he planned to do with his wife and son and infant daughter upon their reunion.

How far your relationship had come, you mused, as you watched the shrinking speck finally melt  into the shadows of the deepening twilight. With him and with the rest of the men in your company, when you had once sworn, in tears hidden, that they would never accept you. Now their departure would sting as though you had been orphaned for the third time. 

It is only for several weeks, you told yourself, to ease the weight of doubt that sat upon your chest. As you turned to walk back toward the cottage, a fierce wind rose and ripped off the cloak that was loosely draped over your shoulders. With a startled cry you grabbed for it, but not quickly enough to save it from landing in a large puddle.

You retrieved the soaked fabric from the mud with a sigh. A fat raindrop landed squarely on the top of your uncovered head, and was immediately followed by another and another. Spontaneous rain had been pouring on and off over Gondor since the King’s coronation, and you heard the locals welcome and praise this tumultuous weather as a blessing, a sign of war’s filth being washed away to cleanse the lands for rebirth. 

Shielding your eyes from the sudden deluge, you looked up at the roiling clouds overhead, further entranced by the sight of jagged lightning flashing over the White Mountains.  But when your gaze dropped back down to the horizon, you were alarmed to notice a horsed figure crossing the fields through the storm, approaching fast, in your direction. 

It was him. Without proof of his face or voice, or even the support of logic, you just knew. It was him. 

The very thought of that froze you, mind and body, in place. Pale and immobile and increasingly drenched, you stood like a deeply rooted tree while the rider drew closer and closer, on a horse powerful enough to sustain its determined gait over the sodden ground and lashing winds. Dumbfounded and dazed, you remained, until at last he came to a stop just several yards away. He dismounted Firefoot, his heavy boots squelching in the muck, and that sound snapped you to your senses. 

“My lord,” you rushed forward with the soiled cloak twisted uselessly between your hands. “The stables are around the back. Let me take Firefoot there while you get out of this rain.”

“I shall stable him,” Éomer said sternly, but not unkindly, to warn you against arguing. “Go and wait for me inside the house.” 

Without speaking another word or sparing a backward glance, you obeyed your king. You shut the cottage door behind you to keep out the ill weather, hung your wet cloak on a peg, and crouched by the warmth of the fireplace to dry off as best as you could. You kept your jittery hands busy feeding the flames with more wood, but your mind refused to be calmed as easily. 

What is he doing here?! The agreement had been for you to report to him the following day, to receive in full detail your last set of orders before the entire Rohan contingent departed. Éomer had granted your request to stay behind quickly enough, and with so little argument that you had hoped perhaps the issue between you was settled, at least for the time being.

If he was not prepared to completely abandon his fatuous notion of asking you to marry him, then time apart would surely set his mind back to good sense. The Éomer you knew could always be trusted to do the right thing. You clung firmly to this thought while you waited the agonizing minutes for him to return from the stables. 

As soon as he entered, you offered him the last clean towel you could find to dry himself with. He raised his eyebrows at your attempt to give him royal treatment, but graciously swiped the cloth several times over his face, neck, and hair, before tossing it over the back of a chair. 

“So this is the place.” He peeled off his riding cloak to reveal clothing underneath that was just as soaked as yours; he may as well not have bothered with the outer garment at all. “You said it belonged to Lady Aerdis’s late…uncle?”

“A relative of sorts,” you said. When you confided in your new friend your wistful desire to be housed outside the city, where you could have more quiet and solitude, she had been quick to offer the empty cottage in near Pelennor that was recently willed to her by deceased relations. “There are things I can work on to help restore it while I am here. Even my meager skills will serve a farm better than sitting on my hands in the city barracks watching everyone else in their labors. I wish to remain useful, and do my part in the rebuilding.”

“I understand. You have explained all that, and well,” Éomer said slowly. “But regretfully, I must rescind the permission I granted for you to live outside Minas Tirith. You can stay here for the remainder of this week, to rest and do as you please. But afterward, I would like for you to go back to the city and remain there until my return.”

You bit back a protest, determined, now more than ever, to reaffirm your position as his servant. “May I ask what I am to do there, then?”

“Lord Boromir petitioned me to loan you to his company, and I granted it. He shall assign your duties, and you will take your orders from him while I am gone.” 

Although it surprised you to hear this, it was a welcome prospect. Of all the men in Gondor you liked and trusted Lord Boromir the most, having known him since you were just a girl, albeit not intimately. This would provide an opportunity to improve on the connection. “Lord Boromir honors me with his request. And as always, it shall please me to do as my king commands.”

Éomer responded to your formal pledge with a weary sigh. He braced his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, and the way his knuckles whitened in the tightness of his grip, while he searched for his next words, did not escape your notice. 

“Make no mistake, this command does not align with what I desire,” he said thickly. “Leaving without you violates every instinct in my body, but if that is what must be done to make you see reason, then I shall bear it.”

“Reason?” you repeated stiffly. “What conclusion are you hoping I might come to?”

Éomer raised his eyes from the floor to meet yours across the room. “I know you believe that putting distance between us may somehow alter how I feel about you. But I in turn believe the time apart will help you accept how deeply in love you are with me.”

The heat that flooded your face burned through your mask of composure. “I am not--”

“Enough.” The sadness that bled into that single word made it a plea instead of an order. “I did not come to reopen discussions on the matter. Especially not if denials are all you have left to say to me.”

“Then pray tell, what has my lord come for?” you challenged him behind your icy courtesy. “How else may I serve you, Éomer King?”

The hurt that crossed his face came on so suddenly, looked so profound and real, it was as though you had physically struck him. He stared at you in a dead silence, and you forced yourself to hold his gaze while you held your breath, guilt sinking into your gut from the knowledge that you were the wretch who had gone too far. 

“Nothing,” he said quietly. “Clearly there is nothing more to say, other than farewell.”

He picked up his cloak, turned, and left, leaving you utterly dumbfounded, staring at the door that slammed shut behind him.

The longest seconds of your life passed before your shock and indecision were overcome by a wild hysteria that made your entire body grow cold.

You leapt for the door and wrenched it open, and stepped into the downpour in time to see him vanish around the corner of the house, heading back to the stables. 

The loss of him from your sight smashed through your bravado, and you cried out into the storm. 

“Éomer!!”

Before you could grasp your reasoning for why you did it, or what you planned to do next, he reappeared, every footstep leaving puddles as his approach backed you up into the cottage. His eyes bore down at you, his expression now guarded and inscrutable and expectant. Gusting wind drove in sprinkles of rain through the door left open and ignored. 

I am sorry. The whisper sitting on the tip of your tongue was smothered by a hostile inner voice. 

Let him go. It is your duty. It is what’s right.

But your stolid face collapsed under the weight of your anguish. A grimace squeezed out the tears that blinded your eyes, finally betraying your shameful truth. I do love you, Éomer. 

Gentle fingers settled lightly over your lips, stilling their feeble quivering. A voice even warmer and more tender than this touch eased your struggle.

“I do not need words. This is enough.”

As the hardened pads of those fingers brushed across the plane of your cheek, you closed your eyes and at once forgot all else that existed. Such was the power of his touch that for years you so vigilantly avoided, until that fateful moment of weakness after the coronation exposed your secret. That moment could never be undone, no matter how hard you tried to bury the truth now.

Éomer murmured your name, his breath warm on your temple, and then his hands stilled where they lightly cupped your face. In that pause lay a question, and the last time you answered it, you had hurt him. Foolish liar that you were.

“Yes.” The whisper passed from your lips to his as his mouth wasted no time seeking yours. You clasped your hands around the back of his neck, urging him closer as your own hunger surged. You felt the tremor that ran through his shoulders when you slipped your tongue against his. How could you have ever chosen to cause him pain, when you could have given him this instead?

He broke the kiss to let you catch your breath, but nuzzled your chin upward to gain access to your neck, so his lips could continue their quest to the hollow of your throat. You gasped at the scrape of his teeth on your collarbone, then moaned when he remedied his offense with reverent strokes of his tongue. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, pulling you greedily against him, fingers threading and tugging at your hair as he moved his worship to your shoulders.

But it was your touch, the scrabble of your hands over his hips and stomach as you held on to him for balance, that elicited a low growl. In just a few hurried steps, he backed you to the furthest corner of the cottage, until the side of the bed hit the back of your legs.

Your name was still the only thing he could utter, muffled in between the kisses he could not stop lavishing on every bit of your skin he could reach. Your hands found their way to his hips again, this time  sneaking underneath the wet fabric that clung to his torso, then brazenly gliding upward, past his belly to the taut muscles of his chest, high enough for your thumb to circle his nipple.

An ungentlemanly word suddenly rumbled from Éomer King's throat, so startled was he by the sensual touch. Within moments his shirt lay discarded on the floor, your back made contact with the mattress, and there he was, leaning over you, bare from the waist up to your hungry eyes. You gave yourself an extra second to appreciate the sight before hooking a hand over his nape to yank him back into a kiss. The fervor in his response left you writhing and whimpering and completely vulnerable in your weakness. 

A deep haze settled over you as you began to lose yourself to the pleasure of his ministrations. With every inch of you, you wanted this, and the way your body reacted to his every action, shaking in desperation for more, would surely tell him that. And yet… yet as you felt his fingers grope for the fastenings of your dress, felt his palm brush the back of your knee to your thigh, felt his hardness press against your hip… something inside of you jerked in reawakened panic.

“Éomer. W-wait.”

So soft was the protest, you were not even sure you had said the words aloud. But almost immediately, Éomer stopped and pulled back. He took one look at you, your disheveled state, and whatever expression lay on your face, and he sat up fully, turning away, dragging your heart out of your chest with him.

“Éomer, please. I am… I just…”

“No, I understand and I agree. To carry on would be unwise.”

He rubbed both hands roughly over his face, shaking away the stupor induced by his desire.

“All these years I have ordered the men to give you the respect you are due. I cannot risk your virtue or reputation now, however long I have wanted this. Wanted you.”

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “You are my King, and it is my duty to protect you and your reputation. We must behave prudently.”

He nodded, but still looked so pained you could not help but lift your hand to try to soothe the scowl from his face. He angled his head to kiss the inside of your wrist.

“I will have you,” he muttered, his diverted gaze making it seem more a promise to himself than to you. But when he turned his eyes back on you, the wanton lust pooling in them stirred the heat in your belly. “I will wait for the right circumstances, however long it may take, but I will have you.”

He rose and walked a few steps across the room, perhaps in need of distance from you. As he stood closer to the fireplace, the light illuminated a view so rarely seen by anyone, many people in Rohan had come to believe that Éomer was simply hale and hard of body beyond the limits of mortal men. 

The numerous scars that decorated his body testified to both his fragility and his strength. Many of his wounds had been tended to by you on the battlefield, carrying terrible memories that were now also moments of pride and achievement that you shared with him. 

Éomer seemed to feel your intent gaze upon him, and he stretched out a hand to you, beckoning you to rejoin him. As soon as you were within reach, he wrapped his arms around you again, drawing you against him, sighing contently as your touch drifted over the bare skin of his chest and shoulders.

Your hand moved with intention, skimming down to his lower abdomen, probing carefully for the large scar you knew sat just below his ribcage. That injury was less than two years old. It still amazed you how it had managed to heal with little issue, under the constant strain of the many violent battles Éomer fought in since. 

So close. A chill ran through you as the memory rose unbidden: you pressing down hard to staunch the bleeding, screaming for someone to help carry the barely conscious Marshal to the nearest shelter, where you could safely attempt to clean and suture the wound. If the orc blade had sunk in only a fraction of an inch deeper, it would have been beyond anyone's power to save him. You came too close to losing him that day.

Eomer's lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he interrupted your reminiscence with a whisper. “How can you still doubt that we belong together, when already you are part of me?” 

Your fingers passed over several other scars from injuries you had tended to over the years, and came to rest over the tattoo on his upper right arm. The black dragon curled around the edge of his shoulder was identical in design and location to the mark borne by every rider in your Éored. Your possession of that dragon mark bound you to Éomer intimately, but also defined your role in his life. Sharing his bed, or even being with him just once, was not your place.

“None of these give me any right to claim you,” you said softly. “You must still marry. And it is your duty to marry well.”

He caught your elbow as you started to move your hand away, and guided it back to slide over his waist, to rest over the scar once more, willing you to hold fast to the memory it carried, and hold fast to him.

“What does it mean to marry? Is it not just the giving of one's entire self--mind and body, heart and soul--to another?”

He hooked a finger underneath your chin, urging your downcast gaze to rise and meet his.

“How am I to dispose of things that are no longer in my possession? I have long been taken, solely and utterly, by you.”

And with that gaze he set upon you, you wondered: how many glances must have he given you in secret all these years, with eyes that burned with something more than the devotion of one comrade-in-arms to another? What willful blindness had you clung to for years, for you not to have noticed it?

“I must fulfill my duties to Rohan, this is true. But not even a king can be asked to do the impossible.”

“But to wed a great king to a lowly servant--” You shook your head. “Many would argue that is the real impossibility.”

A new expression akin to anger flashed across Éomer’s face. Before you could wonder what you might have done wrong, he dropped to his knees before you, both knees, his hands wrapped tightly around yours.

“My lord!” you cried, aghast that he would debase himself, even in private. You tried to force him back up, but he would not budge.

“Never speak of yourself as lowly again,” he admonished. “King or peasant, there is nothing more lowly or humbled than a man so wretchedly in love, as I am with you.”

“Éomer…” You sank to the floor with him. “If only things were so simple. I wish it could all happen as you say, but I just do not see how. I do not know what can be done.”

“Let me hold your love for a while longer, and wait for me,” he said gently. “That is all I ask. The rest is mine to accomplish. As long as your heart is mine, and I know you have given it to me freely, I will fight for my right to keep it.”

You felt his grip around your fingers grow tense in the long seconds of silence that followed. At last, you brought his knuckles to your lips, kissing the hands you adored with such devotion.

“When you leave, you shall take my heart with you,” you whispered into his palm. “But I fear it will be a greater challenge than you believe, to keep others from wresting such an unsuitable offering from your hands.” 

“They may certainly try, if they wish to test me.” The ice in his tone unsettled you, even though that veiled threat was certainly not for you, while the warm caress on your cheek was. “Not for a moment will I appear unclear or undecided when it comes to my intentions towards you. I will never make that mistake again.”

“B-but the Council of Eorl. The lords…”

“They answer to the King,” Éomer interrupted. “Do not privileges, as well as duties, come with this crown? Trust me. Please.” He bowed to rest his forehead against yours. “While we are parted, I will prove to you that it can be done, that I will do whatever I must to marry you, and to honor and protect you thereafter.”

“Marry?” you murmured. The idea still seemed no more than a ludicrous fantasy. But then Éomer kissed you again, deeply, as though determined to memorize the taste of your lips, urging you to focus on the present moment. 

Because he was yours, even if just for that night. Even if by dawn, it could all crumble under the pressures of the world outside these walls. Éomer loved you, and held you in such high regard to want you as his wife and queen. You would swear to anyone that this knowledge alone was already a dream fulfilled. 

And yet. If you were brave enough to hope, maybe…just maybe, this would not be the last impossibility to come true for you. 

* * *

They do not know. Hundreds of Gondor’s citizens bearing streamers and flowers lined the streets of Minas Tirith that morning to join King Elessar in sending off the departing Eorlingas. But it occurred to Éomer how strange it felt that none of them had any awareness of a matter that was not only monumental for him personally, but carried significant consequences for all of Rohan.

Soon that will change, the young king vowed to himself. Soon his Council will hear the truth, and afterward all of Rohan, and then the rest of their allies. But for the moment, discretion--no matter how bitter the pretense tasted. 

No one except for Lord Boromir and his betrothed, the lovely Lady Aerdis, who both stood next to her, understood what truly lay underneath the courteous gestures exchanged between the King of Rohan and his shield-maiden. A simple bow, an exchange of a few words, and a locking of gazes that was all too brief. Had they not spent that one evening together, Éomer would have remained trapped in the false belief of her indifference towards him. The memory of her kisses would have to suffice for a while, and he could only hope he had given her enough to remember him by, as well. 

He brushed the edge of his hand over his lips just as he turned away, and forced his feet to carry him down the line of assembled well-wishers. 

A noticeable hush descended on the crowd of onlookers as Éomer came to the end of the road where, closest to the ruins of the Great Gate, the King of Gondor himself met him, flanked by none other than Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth, and his only daughter.

“Lady Lothíriel.” As Éomer took the hand she courteously offered him and brushed a kiss on her fingers, he became aware of the wan smiles that surrounded them, and the unsubtle tittering of a few ladies watching. “Your presence this morning is an unexpected and most delightful gift.”

Lothíriel was astonishingly beautiful indeed, with such radiant grace and sweet smiles, that it would not have surprised Éomer if many citizens of the White City came out just to catch a glimpse of her. “I wish you, Lady Éowyn, and all your men a safe journey, your Grace,” she said. “And may you have great success in your labors, so that we can soon celebrate your speedy return.”

“You are kind, my lady. I certainly hope for the same,” replied Éomer. “We leave behind treasure beyond price here and shall be eager to return for our own.”

Two Rohan lords had already swooped in to engage Imrahil in quiet conversation, and only stepped aside when Éomer himself approached to exchange farewells. Éomer’s admiration for the Prince only grew the more he learned about him and spent time with him, but the unabashed thirst of his counselors for Dol Amroth’s friendship irritated him. Yet another issue he intended to settle in the ordering of his House’s affairs. 

Finally, Éomer came before Elessar, who embraced him tightly and honored him with a bow, from one king to another. “Worry not, my brother,” the man once called Aragorn said quietly to him. “I shall see to it that they are cared for, these ones whom you so dearly love.”

He smiled at the look of mixed wonder and apprehension on Éomer’s face, and dipped his head in another show of reassurance and of farewell.

With that, the Rohirrim set off on the North-way in a procession over a mile long, accompanied by the fanfare from the people that continued to line the road stretching across Pelennor. Countless flags in a multitude of colors and sigils from the different regions of Gondor fluttered in the air, and from every direction, enthusiastic cheering and waving followed the Riders across the fields.

At the head of the procession, behind his standard bearer and with Éowyn at his side, Éomer quickly fell into a brooding silence that did not escape his sister’s notice. 

“I truly did not think I would ever see the day when the two of you would be willingly separated,” she said lightly. When Éomer looked at her with raised eyebrows, she shrugged. “I am sure you have good reasons for choosing her to stay behind with our uncle.” 

“Many reasons,” Éomer grunted. 

Éowyn regarded him thoughtfully. “Has the time finally come when you would allow yourself to be open with me about these reasons? And the other concerns weighing on your mind and heart? It is just you and I now, Éomer,” she said softly, stretching out her hand to him.  “I may not have uncle’s experience or Théodred’s cunning, but I love you beyond words, and would do anything to see you happy. Let me help you.”

Éomer smiled at this, and reached over to take her hand and squeeze it. “Perhaps I can aspire to the happiness you have found with Lord Faramir.”

“Having my affections stolen by a High Man was not what I aspired to,” said Éowyn, trying to look annoyed but unable to hide the blush on her cheeks. “But love, it seems, is the wildest beast of all. It will not be tamed, or bridled, or even reasoned with. It goes where it wills. Éomer…” Éowyn’s sweet face turned stern. “You have suffered enough, and have been forced to carry so many burdens, not least of all our uncle’s crown, which I know you never wanted.”

“It is my honor to take the throne in Uncle and Théodred’s stead,” Éomer said firmly. “And why do you make assumptions about the things I want?”

“I know who it is you have wanted, for a long time now,” Éowyn said with a stout confidence that took Éomer aback. “You are discreet, brother. But I have watched you and looked out for you, more closely than you realize.”

Éomer shook his head. “I am still learning the many ways I have been underestimating you, Éowyn. Soon I shall believe myself unworthy of your care or help.”

“Someone has to care for you, during the frequent times you would not.” Éowyn glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still out of hearing range of the rest of his Éored. “Especially now that you have left her behind.” 

Éomer pressed his lips in a tight line and returned his gaze to the road ahead. “I will be back,” he said. “There is much to do in Rohan before then, but with Uncle waiting in the Hallows, I can hardly afford to dawdle or delay.” 

And she is waiting. Éomer caught a glimpse of his sister’s suppressed smile that told him she had already thought the same thing. Another person with strong opinions to contend with.

Éomer spurred Firefoot forward to signal the standard bearer, who promptly blew one quick blast on his horn. As the King took off in a steady gallop, the thunder of hooves rose behind him as nearly a thousand other Rohirrim picked up their pace to match his, drowning out the excited shouts of the Gondorians that started them off at last to their journey home.

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[iamthemain-character]

Hello my dear and happy holidays!! I'd like to request some lotr Headcanons if you don't mind.

Could you please write something about Merry Brandybuck, Eomer and Eowyn with a muscular blacksmith s/o? I just got accepted into college for a Metalsmithing course and I have a sneaking suspicion I'm going to beef up a bit during it, so I'd love to see them with a muscular metalsmithing girl. And maybe she makes them gifts and is generally very butch and boyish.

That's very self indulgent on my part, but thank you so much for your time. I hope you're doing well hun, keep being awesome 😎

not my bi self low key simping over these muscular metal smithing girls i imagined up for the headcanons 😅 anywhoooo congrats on getting accepted! that’s super super cool, and i tried to incorporate it a little bit into these headcanons if that’s okay. never give up on yourself or your dreams, and remember to take care of yourself. <3 alrighty, enough of my being a mom, enjoy! happy holidays! :)

LOTR Headcanons with a Muscular Metalsmithing Significant Other

she/her pronouns

Middle Earth Masterlist

Merry Brandybuck

you and merry met at one of the many birthday parties The Shire saw

you were standing a little awkwardly towards the side, unsure whether to join or not

he decided to come by and sweep you away for a dance

one dance turned into two, then four, and before you both knew it you had spent the whole night together

both you and Merry really liked each other, so you started to hang out after that

one day, merry found you working in your back yard, fixing a chain that had snapped

he was amazed as he watched you heat up the metal and then pound it out

you were always a muscular woman, but now in you short sleeves he saw every curve and ripple

needless to say he was a little overcome with just how stunning you were

there weren’t really many metalsmithing hobbits, but you had learned the craft and fell in love with it

merry was amazed at your talent and reassured you that it was incredible

he also insisted that it was time to set up shop properly

for weeks he helped you find a space for your shop and then plan out everything for it

and much to your embarrassment, he managed to tell every single person you encountered about how talented and wonderful you were

it was heartwarming to be sure, but also very over the top

anyways, it must’ve worked, because the day your shop opened, you ended up having lots of people come in with requests for repairs or crafting new items

while some people were unsure about the newness of it all, many hobbits were very supportive of you

none as supportive as Merry, who stayed almost the entire day to simp over you while you worked help you in whatever way he could

when you finally closed up shop that first day, he asked if you would have dinner with him

of course you said yes, and so he ended up taking you to where he had prepared a candlelight picnic for the both of you

you ended up laughing and talking together, but as everything winded down, you both just laid back and stared at the stars

you did catch Merry staring at you, but before you could say anything, he was leaning in towards you

you closed the distance, and what you thought was already an amazing day became perfect

Merry ended up being the most supportive SO ever, always helping you with whatever you needed

he also prepared was for you to relax every night so you could rest and be ready for the next day

you in turn loved making him little metal trinkets, and he kept every one of them, decorating his home with them

you both loved each other very much, and to everyone that could see, you honored and respected each other, and it doesn’t get much better than that

Eomer

you and Eomer had known each other for your entire lives, as you had grown up the daughter of a servant

you were best friends with eowyn, but on occasion you spoke to eomer

he started training with the Riders of Rohan around the same time you went off to become a metasmithing apprentice

for years you didn’t see each other, but the next time you did, you had grown into a very skilled, gorgeous, and strong woman

he came to you for a couple repairs, but when he recognized who you were it stopped him in his tracks

Eomer was rarely speechless, but at the sight of his sister’s childhood friend he didn’t know what to say

you of course were fairly at ease, saying hello and giving the typical “haven’t seen you in a while” small talk

he was still a little stunned throughout it all, and as he watched you work he fell even more hopelessly

you were so very comfortable in your shop’s environment, knowing exactly how to heat the metal or when to hit it

you were about to bid him fairwell when he suddenly blurted out that he wanted to see you again

You were a little taken back, Eomer had never showed interest in you before, but you agreed

you two ended up going horse riding, and you got to see all the most beautiful places in Rohan

as you both stopped by a waterfall to watch the sunset, it was absolutely magical

you went to kiss Eomer on the cheek, but he turned at the last moment and it ended up being a full on kiss

neither of you minded tho ;)

in fact, Eomer asked you if he could court you properly

you two made a beautiful couple

Eomer was extremely supportive of your metalsmithing career, constantly recommending your talents to his friends and men that worked with him

He also loved just watching you work, you were mesmerizing to him

But he also knew when you needed a break and would sweep you away for some downtime

Either way, he showed you that he loved you as much as he could

Eowyn

as a result of constantly trying to get out of the stuffy castle, Eowyn often visited the town to run errands or just explore

she found you hard at work one afternoon, and she was absolutely amazed

she had never seen a female metalsmither before, so for a while she pretended to look around your shop, but really she was looking at you

eventually you asked her if she was alright, and in her flustered haste Eowyn ended up buying a set of spoons

despite her embarrassing first introduction, she came and visited you almost every day

she claimed that she had to buy one thing or another, but really your metal wares started piling up in her room

but Eowyn had fallen hard and fast for you, so she kept each piece as a little memento of you

finally, before the woman could buy out every last thing you had, you asked her to dinner

it was a little awkward at first, but you slowly helped Eowyn feel at ease and you both enjoyed yourselves tremendously

now, instead of being a customer, eowyn came to see you to spend time with you

your relationship blossomed, and it was so very healthy and sweet

when you expressed that you wanted your hair to be shorter so it didn’t bother you while you worked, Eowyn was the one who cut it for you

she adored the way you looked and always hyped you up in every possible way

when she felt unsafe or bored at her home, you would come and take her away for a few hours so she could be happy

when you decided to propose, you spent a long time carefully crafting the ring so it would be perfect for your beloved

you took Eowyn to the most romantic spot you could think of, but she said yes before you could ask the question

all that really matters is that she said yes though :)

[madamebaggio]

For the Eothiriel snippet: canon, probably in early married life where Eomer discovers that Lothiriel has some kind of random/bizarre/obscure/etc skill/ talent/etc. Bonus points if Eomer's unsure of how to bring it up or it ends up being really helpful with a problem they are facing. Thanks!

Notes: I really got into it, so it became a bit longer than I planned, but I hope you like it ;)

***

Éomer King suspected his wife had a rather… Peculiar talent.

At first, he didn’t think it was a thing at all, but the more he watched her, the more he believed it.

His lady wife could talk to dogs.

He wasn’t sure this was exactly what she did, but it seemed like it.

He hadn’t thought it was the case initially, right after they married. Of course, he hadn’t known her well then, and the only dog she kept around was Admiral. She did seem to have a strong connection to the animal, but Éomer had always assumed it was because she’d had him for over 5 years.

Admiral was a loyal hound. He never left his mistress' side, and he seemed to know what she wanted. Sometimes Lothíriel only had to click her tongue and he’d be off to obey her. Éomer had seen her having conversations with him, and the dog seemed to be able to follow some specific instructions.

He didn’t think that was particularly odd, because he’d trained Firefoot and he also had conversations with the horse on occasion. It was the bond they created through the years they were together.

But the thing was… Lothíriel seemed capable of doing that with every dog she came in contact with. She could tame even the worst mutt walking around the streets of Edoras. Even Éothain’s dog -who was ancient and growled at everyone -seemed to like her.

And Éomer might even keep thinking she just really liked dogs, if it weren’t for the day a little boy went missing. As soon as the mother came to them crying and begging for help to find the boy, Lothíriel had requested something that the boy had worn recently. Éomer imagined she would try and get Admiral to look for the boy, but what happened was even more impressive.

She stood on the top of the stairs and let out the loudest whistle he’d ever heard. He didn’t know how, but dogs started coming from every direction, hurrying to her. She shook the blanket, let the dogs sniff it, and said, “Find him”.

The boy was found by the dogs within the hour. (He was fine. He just hid in a bard, then fell asleep and didn’t realise so much time had passed.)

At this point, Éomer had to ask, “How did you do that?”

“What?” Lothíriel asked as she embroidered.

“The dogs. How did you get them to find the boy?”

Lothíriel froze for a second, then sighed. She put down her embroidery and looked at him. “I should have told you before. I can…” She cleared her throat. “I can understand them.”

Éomer frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can understand dogs.” She repeated.

“Because you like them so much?” Éomer was unsure.

“Well, I do like them very much, but no. I can really understand what they… Say isn’t the right word, but… I can communicate with them.”

Éomer stared at her. Then a bit more. Then he glanced at Admiral, who seemed to be paying attention to the conversation. Then he looked back at Lothíriel. “I don’t know what to say.” He admitted.

“It is fine.” She sighed. “I swear I am not a witch…”

“I didn’t think you were.” He hurried to assure her. “I just… This is quite the talent.”

She shrugged. “My father has always told me to keep it a secret, because people wouldn’t understand, but… You are my husband.” She bit her lower lip. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

Éomer came closer and gently picked her hand up. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Lothíriel smiled at him, clearly relieved. Then she turned her head to Admiral, like he was talking and she was paying attention. She scoffed and looked back at Éomer. “He said, ‘finally’.”

Éomer chuckled.

[writingfromkitchenator]

How did they first meet you? (Lord of the Rings Edition)

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Masterlist

Aragorn – You were fighting for your life in Helms Deep, years of training being put to the test, and you weren't overly sure how you were still going, feeling exhaustion and fatigue settle in.  An Uruk-hai had approached behind you without your knowledge and when you heard the cry, you knew it was too late.  But the cry cut off and you spun, seeing a dirty and warn Aragorn, fury of battle in his eyes, and he held out his hand.

Boromir – On the way to Rivendell after he lost his horse; you were most amused when you offered him a ride.  The two of you talked a little as you rode, but it wasn’t until you reached Rivendell itself that Boromir fully took you in, and it started a friendship between the two of you, with the promise of something more, but the journey ahead had to come first.

Gimli – Just before he left to head to Rivendell.  It left him so conflicted that it took him a moment to decide what to do, despite the urgency from his father.  You had travelled from the Iron Hills to meet with the king, and Gimli was left stumped. He swore that he would find you again, once his task was done, and while you’d found it a little odd, you also couldn’t help but feel that it was also kind of sweet.

Gandalf – It was many years ago now, in a battle that neither of you really remembered, but you’d been impressed by his magic, just as you were impressed by his, and that was all that mattered to start a friendship.  After the battle, once all had settled, the two of you talked for many hours, and it was perhaps the start of something more.

Frodo – He met you in Bree before the rest of the journey started.  Considering you were a hobbit, it didn't stop you working in the Prancing Pony, laughing and joking with customers.  The two of you only talked briefly, but Sam, Merry and Pippin saw the spark there.  It became regular thing during the journey that Frodo would mention you.  You became a beacon of hope for him on those dark days, and he swore to himself that he would seek you out should he return.

Sam – The two of you grew up together, Sam the shy little hobbit, and you the bubbly, outgoing one. Neither of you really remembered the first meeting, but your parents often gushed about how adorable it was, especially when Sam gave you some handpicked flowers.  They always had great in delight in telling you both that they’d never seen you more shy, and Sam never that outgoing.

Merry – You helped organise the welcome home for the four hobbits, taking it all in your stride as easy as anything, all the while running after three younger siblings.  Merry hadn't thought much of it, too busy catching up with his family, which was until you ran directly into him after your little brother did a dash. There was laughter and great deal of awkwardness, and while only brief, it certainly left an impression, finding each other at the celebration and talking well into the night.

Pippin – It was about a year after his return, and he’d been trying to take on more responsibility for things, which others were both grateful for and still a little weary. You’d approached when several hobbits were trying to scald him for it, and, in turn, told them off.  Pippin had stared at you for a long moment once the others had left, and with a smile, you introduced yourself, the two of you falling into a surprisingly easy conversation.

Faramir – It was after an exceptionally bad meeting with his father, and you found him upset and angry in a quiet part of the city.  He’d been weary at first, as usually no one came out here, but once he realised you only meant well, then he talked it over with you, needing to get it off his chest.  You listened intently, and provided some words of comfort, and for that, he was eternally grateful, and then surprised when you offered your ear whenever he needed it.

Eomer – He had seen you a few times over the course of your journey with Aragorn, but he didn’t get to properly meet you until his coronation.  The two of you clicked immediately, and while he wondered why it had taken the two of you so long to speak, in a way he was glad, so that his memory of his first meeting with you was not tainted by the darkness that you all endured together.

Elrond – You came to Rivendell seeking advice, which just happened to fall when the decision was being made about the ring.  There was more than a little surprise when you seemed to know all about it, but there was no malice from you, in fact, you wanted to help. It took him back, but he couldn’t deny that the help was appreciated, and that it had been a long time since he’d met anyone like you.

Haldir – You were on the run through Lothlorien, being hunted by orcs far too close, and Haldir had just happened to be on watch that night.  With barely a sound, he and his fellow guards took out the orcs and got you to safety.  You were clearly exhausted, but were full of thanks at being saved, not really remembering the last time you slept was.  Haldir wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he looked after you that night, ensuring you ate and drank, and then finally got a peaceful night's sleep.