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Chapter Text

A year ago.


“Do you ever intend to marry?” — Theodred said lightly, but though it looked like teasing, Eomer felt instantly — there was more to this question that his cousin wanted to show. He frowned.


“Don’t think so. I never met a gal worth talking to, save spending a lifetime with.“


They rode some time in silence. Rohan was delightful in the summer twilight. Even now, when an unnamed shadow laid on every patch of land. Odd. Theodred never talked to him about marriage or women. Why did he chose to talk about it now, patrolling the Fords? Unless… no, that’s impossible.


“Well, I thought just like you”. — Theodred spoke softly. “But not anymore. I need to tell you something, though you look all sceptical. If I am to survive this war, I guess I’ll give Rohan a queen it deserves.”


“I’d never thought you to be into matrimony, brother.”


“I never was. Until a met her. I can’t talk to my father about my hopes — not anymore. But I want to talk about it with you.”


Eomer felt unwell. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation for him, but he felt to his core — it was an important one. Whomever Theodred chose would become a queen of Rohan in the future. And his, Eomer’s queen.


“Tell me then about your pet.” — he muttered, all eyes to the trees on his left, but all ears to his cousin.


“She’s kind and good, wise and strong. She knows how to rule and how to laugh…”


“I am all that, marry me then.” — joked Eomer, feeling a bit bored with Theodred’s sweetheart already.
Theodred roared with laughter, but checked himself on the spot. Their riders were just a hundred feet away.


“Her name is Emerald.” He paused. “She is a Haradrim”.


Eomer went white. He gritted his teeth and felt an urge to draw a sword.


“Tell me you mock me”.


“By no means.”
Theodred looked solemn and serious.


“But how…”


“Last winter I chased the orcs south with my eored, if you remember. And I was lost and wounded, laid unconscious on the battlefield.” Theodred sighed. “I still don’t know how but after the battle I woke up in a most beautiful room with carvings on the ceiling and windows of colored glass. The princess herself healed me. Her province lies close to Harondor. She soothed me and tended me. She sang me lullabies and told legends most whimsical. And after that she gave me…”


“A love potion?”


“No. A horse of her own stables.”


Eomer remembered now how Theodred came out of nowhere a month and a fortnight after being lost, on a beautiful horse with slender legs and very unusual looks. Theodred was devastated when it was killed some time later. Now it was obvious — not only he pitied the beast itself, but also a gift of a beloved one.


“Were lullabies in Haradric so charming that you quite forgot yourself?”


Theodred cast him an angry look, but his answer was kind.


“She sang in Rohirric. A well educated princess she is. Wait till you see her.”


Eomer thought that he would kill that princess on the spot, if he saw her. Just like any other Southron. But he was clever enough not to push on the subject. The war was unlikely to be a short one, of course Theodred would forget his bloody Haradrim before it’s over.

Chapter Text

August, year 3020.

Eomer stood on a high hill, wearing all his armor, but no helmet. Instead of it a plain crown circled his forehead, and it felt rather unusual and, well, uncomfortable. The air was warm and thick with grass fragrance. Back in Rohan it was a harvest time, and it was a good one this year. Here in Ithilien the gardens were still laid with fruit and everything looked peaceful. Albeit there was no peace in Eomer’s heart, for it was the evening he dreaded the most. Today came his bride, the one he never saw and never wanted. Emerald, princess of Harad, with her escort. He felt as if a lump of ice was in his chest, for he could hardly breathe and talk. 

Eowyn came closer by his side.

“The princess is late,” she said, frowning. Faramir and Aragorn with their people murmured behind them. Someone even laughed. It sounded strange to Eomer, who felt like mourning much more than laughing.

“I wish she wouldn’t come at all,” Eomer answered and he meant it. He couldn’t believe that he was persuaded into this marriage. 

“King Elessar thinks very highly of her,” Eowyn looked up at her brother and touched his cheek lightly. “He said she was the one not to let people of her province join Sauron’s forces. She was the one to persuade her uncle to pay tribute to Gondor and stop the futile war in the South.”

Eomer knew that. He remembered Aragorn telling him that the princess was very popular with her people and hugely disliked by her uncle and cousins for sabotaging their alliance with Sauron. She would be dead in a year, Aragorn said, if she stayed in Harad. And it would be a huge help, if she married some captain of the West, for that meant the immediate end to all the problems in the South. Besides, she was Theodred’s betrothed.

It all seemed quite logical, but now, after a year of negotiations, Eomer hated the thought of being married to a Southron even more. Why should he bother about saving some darned princess? Why must his people have a ludicrous crow for a queen? Theodred was stupid enough to fall for a Haradrim and now it was him, Eomer, to lay in one bed with that monster. Her relatives were eager to get rid of a girl, but why on earth Aragorn thought that she would make a good queen of Rohan?

“She proved to be a good queen of her own land,” Eowyn answered softly. Damn, he spoke his thoughts aloud. 

“I would live perfectly well with no wife at all, good or bad one”, sighed Eomer.

“And that’s exactly why a marriage of convenience is rather good for you! Or Rohan will see no heirs of you at all. Come, brother, she can’t be all bad. She is a great healer also, and you know all too well that our land will be in need of good healers. So will I, I am afraid”, she added almost involuntarily, putting a hand to a little rounded belly. 

“They are coming!” suddenly cried one of Faramir’s men. 

They actually were. It was rather small group of people, all astride, on great horses. Eomer could appreciate it even on such a hideous occasion. All horses looked sleek and in full plumage, gold glistening from harness. Behind the riders a caravan of laid camels could be seen (“Dowry”, thought Eomer). He supposed that there had to be some carriage for a princess, but he saw none. 

“Emerald is the rider in scarlet”, spoke Aragorn, coming to Eomer’s left. 

So she is a skilled rider. That sounded about right. Eomer looked at the dismounting horsemen and saw among them a tall and slender figure. When the princess took off a piece of cloth, covering her head and face from dust, Eomer heard everyone behind him gasp. And though he was almost unwilling to look at a girl who must have been his bride, he lifted his eyes. 

“What a beauty,” muttered Eowyn. 

“I doubt that black hair and dark skin may be considered beautiful”, Eomer answered after a long pause, but it was a difficult thing to utter for he was also astonished by the sight. 

The princess came closer and kneeled. So did all the men of her escort behind her, though some of them looked very unwilling and barely bent their knees. 

So it was real and it was happening. Eomer felt dizzy and sick. 

Chapter Text

She was riding at full gallop, barely listening to the cries of her cousins behind her. Many leagues already lied between her and her country, but somehow it was not frightening. Emerald loved how different the land around her looked and was wondering whether Rohan could be even more beautiful than this green-hilled scenery. Well, she wouldn’t be able to see it for some more days, for the main ceremony was to be held in Ithilien. She never knew how the new king of Rohan agreed to accept her as a bride. He was known for his pride and prejudice against peoples of South. Still he had a point, for many years there had been a feud. But now came years of truce and her heart sang with joy.

Uncle didn’t want her to come to Ithilien astride, but finally agreed that northern savages were unlikely to object to this behavior.

Ah, and there they are!

She could see now a group of people with huge standarts. Emerald knew king Elessar right away, for he came to Harad some months ago to make peace and discuss tribute. But her eyes were searching for someone else. All her journey she wondered how her future husband would look like, and now she recognized him on the spot. Not only because of his fair hair and a green banner above him, but also there couldn’t have been a warrior matching Eomer in size and strength. He stood observing her haughtily, with low brows and set jaw. How handsome and fierce he was. Suddenly she felt intimidated. Emerald slowed down for her party to join her. Then she dismounted, put away her scarf and moved forward.

“Westu Eomer hal!” she spoke in a clear but a bit trembling voice and knelt.

…

Two weeks later Meduseld was ablaze with fires. People were dancing, drinking and singing, throwing flowers around her and coming up not only to hail their new queen, but also — could it be true? — to see her closely and touch her, as if she were a foreign animal. Emerald saw that their eyes were curious and amused. Actually she preferred that to the look her husband gave her — cold and searching, even disgusted sometimes. They were married nearly for a fortnight now, but barely exchanged a word. Once they left Ithilien and she made farewells to her kin, at night newlyweds slept in different tents and at day Eomer rode far from her. It was very unsettling, but everyone else was very supportive and obliging. She made a very good acquaintance with Eowyn, who dearly appreciated her intelligence, good humor and fluent Rohirric. Eomer’s marshals were also very polite and kind. Perhaps they tried to make up for their King’s stiffness and neglect.

Pondering over these thoughts in the Meduseld's great hall she didn’t notice that Eomer looked at her tentatively. Usually he tried to avoid looking at his bride, but his eyes couldn’t help but rest on her face at times when she was deep in her thought, like at the moment. Emerald looked pale and somber, but it was not unbecoming her. She had a fair skin (much fairer than Eomer’s, which surprised him), sleek black hair and misty eyes, nearly completely shadowed by her long lashes. She was wearing a hugely embroidered green dress, matching her name in color. Women put flowers into her braids, and a thin golden circle crowned her head, for she became a Queen. She looked almost like an elf and not like some troll-like Haradrim, as Eomer had expected her to be at first. He was pleased against his will with her looks and her dignified manner. He noticed that during the last week she tried to approach him while riding, even tried to make a conversation. But Eomer felt her too alien, though she spoke Rohirric so well and charmed his people with wise yet easy talk about nature and legends. It all doesn't matter, she is a Southron, he reminded himself. Don't be fooled.

The last strains of dance were played, the feast was over. The night was approaching and now he couldn’t avoid her, she was to share his rooms as his wife.

Emerald lifted her eyes and caught Eomer's piercing sight. Immediately his brown eyes went cold, blank and impenetrable.

Here it goes, he reflected. This grave and handsome girl was now his queen and he — willing or not — was her husband.

Chapter Text

They walked through the Palace, not a word spoken. Yesterday he asked her if she needed her own quarters. Not at all, was the answer, and no maid altogether. Eomer was rather surprised to hear that, but perhaps he understood his young wife more than he even wanted to admit. She lived in a place where servants were swarming and her every footstep was being watched and judged. Now she felt at least free, if not happy. Eomer watched her walking beside him, shadows crossing her face and lights reflecting in averted large eyes. He strided fast, but she seemed to keep up at ease. Her cheeks were crimson, was it for their walking or some other reason, he didn’t know.

They reached the chambers of the King. No servants were to be seen, but everything looked ready — crackling fire, soft furs on the floor and big wooden bed, linen sheets.

Eomer closed the door. The sound of it echoed in the cold palace, but this room felt warm and cozy. He tried to convince himself that he never wanted to be left alone with this dark-haired girl, but deep inside he felt curious, almost joyful. That’s just lust, he told himself. Quite natural, for she is not uncanny, and he is a man, right?

Emerald did not dare to lift her head. What a slender and fragile creature she is, Eomer thought. So willowy, so different from robust Rohirric girls.

He hesitated for a moment and took her hair, unbraided it in the front with his fingers. It felt wonderful and soft, almost liquid, like touching dark warm water in the summer lake. Then he took off her crown and placed it gingerly on the table beside the window. When Eomer began to unlace his bride’s green dress, Emerald started to tremble visibly. He laughed in scorn.

“Do not be afraid, princess, for I am no rapist.”

He turned his face from her to hide his disappointment, undressed hastily and lay onto the bed. She stand still behind him. Then he heard her robe rustling and some time later felt her settling on the opposite side of the bed. She was so light, that the bed made next to no sound. Well, he would not insist. If she doesn’t want to have him, neither does he. Of course it would be preferable to consume their marriage for there was no other way to have heirs for the throne, but if she has nothing but fear in her…so be it. His thoughts were rather gloomy, but it was a long weary day and soon he fell asleep.

...

It was way past midnight, when he woke up suddenly. Everything was quiet and dark. Wait… no, not everything was quiet, for his wife beside him lay wide awake and yes, shaking.

“Am I that much confusing you even in my sleep, lady?” Eomer inquired maliciously. His voice sounded very loud somehow.

His queen sat on the bed, neither dignified, nor offended.

“I…I am just cold, my lord.”

Swift rush of guilt went through Eomer. Of course, the fire went all out, and though it was summer, the night was chilly. Not for him, a seasoned warrior, but for this delicate southern flower.

Eomer got up immediately and added dry logs, then blew the fire and within several minutes the room was once again lighted with flickering flames. Then he fumbled with furs and blankets, but his lady, dressed only in a thin night shift, seemed to tremble even more. Eomer hesitated a little, but then lay beside her, embraced his wife and tucked the furs around them. She didn’t object. That worked, soon his queen’s body seized shaking and relaxed in warmth and comfort. All of a sudden he felt tenderness to this thin girl locked in his embrace, but hushed it up.

It was impossible for him to go back to sleep; Eomer felt as if Emerald’s body burned him. At least she could sleep soundly now, he thought. But she didn’t sleep. He wondered if she was comfortable lying so close to him.

“I do not fear you, my king.” She spoke as if in an answer. “You’re a man of virtue, it is an honor to be your wife, even if only in name”.

Eomer lay still, knowing not what to say.

Emerald went on.

“I trembled today, but not of terror, to be sure. It was excitement, a-anticipation…” she faltered.

Eomer felt the heat rising in him and blushed. He was glad that he could keep it in secret due to the semi-darkness surrounding them.

“I was so happy to know that you asked for my hand”, Emerald continued, almost whispering.

“You were?” Eomer echoed and was surprised to hear caress in his own voice.

“But yes!” Emerald exclaimed and sat upright in the bed. “What a luck to have the king of the Mark for a husband! I never saw you or knew you, but even in my land there were talks of the most honorable and valiant, fiercest and noblest young king of the horse lords.”

Eomer felt an urge to kiss this beautiful woman he held in his arms. So he did, slowly at first, but then boldly and passionately, as if he found his courage at last. The blood pulsated in his veins, his head felt light; and the dark blazing eyes, hot lips and soft skin of his wife was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

The sun was hardly beginning to rise, when Emerald opened her eyes. Though she knew that she hadn’t been sleeping for more than three hours, she felt surprisingly good and refreshed. The room was translucent, the white color around her dazzling. The princess touched lightly the white sheets with her tanned fingers. More than anything she wanted to look at her new husband, but she had no courage still.

For all her maidenhood she’d been taught that the main purpose of her existence was to please her future husband. According to the southern tradition, her court women told her how to seduce a man, how to charm him and how to act to make him satisfied. And there she was last night, not even remembering any of those. But Emerald felt deep inside, that her husband was not the man to fall for some cunning craft. She felt that her honesty made her attractive enough for him.

Her first night was not bad at all. When Eomer lay on top of her and gently came between her legs, it felt suddenly good. Nearly for the first time in her life Emerald felt sheltered, secure. Some moments passed before she experienced another, more disturbing and pleasant feeling. It was as if all the warmth of the chamber suddenly concentrated in their bodies. Eomer caressed her face, kissing her lips ardently and eyelids softly, but seemed to be afraid to feel her body with his palms. She felt his hot breath on her skin and felt his and her own desire, and there was actually no time to get scared, for in a moment he was already inside her, and it was not as painful as she'd expected. She was a little bit uneasy, but at the same time it felt good and right. Eomer’s eyes were fixed on hers constantly, and she even dared to look back. They were so dark and hot, almost like embers in the fireplace.

"That's weird", she whispered.

Eomer looked inquiringly, but was unable to stop and continued moving and kissing her.

"Your eyes. They now seem so dark, but in the evening I could swear, that they were as blue as Helluin."

Eomer hesitated.

"The constellation?" he asked.

She nodded and all of a sudden they both laughed merrily. Emerald was momentarily mad at herself, for she thought that Eomer would cease making love to her due to this strange interruption. But somehow it made him more fiery, even though she didn't think it possible. He moved faster and faster, though still checking his temper and trying not to cause her any inconvenience.

Emerald felt a little bit lonely, when after a suppressed growl her husband dismounted her and stood up. What! He was to leave her! But Eomer only rearranged the sheets and furs for his bride not to get cold again, and then… well, it became clear, that he wasn’t thinking about leaving or… sleeping as well.

...

Emerald smiled, as she saw through the window the early birds flicking in the first rays of sunlight. She turned a bit to have a better look at muscled arm, embracing her, then mighty shoulders, neck... and raised her eyes to look at her husband’s face. Eomer was not sleeping. He looked back searchingly and Emerald’s heart skipped a beat at this heavy look.

...

An hour later she was sitting by her table, rearranging the rings on her fingers. Eomer was dressing silently behind her. She saw him buttoning his shirt in a mirror, and wanted to tell him something, but she was too shy. At last Emerald found her strength, though she couldn’t turn her face to him and her voice sounded small and feeble.

“My lord, I thank you for being so patient and caring with me.”

Eomer looked up.

“I am glad that you are quite well, my queen.”

"And I am happy to know that you'll keep me warm at nights, sir".

It sounded so improper, that the queen went crimson. Heavens, she only wanted to make some casual remark. But Eomer smiled.

"By all means, I will do my best to keep you warm."

He paused.

“I was much afraid to do something wrongly.”

Emerald unbelievingly turned to him on her stool.

“Was it… was it the first night for you too, my king?”

“It was.”

He took the comb to brush his hair, but Emerald was still looking at him inquisitively, so he was forced to continue.

“Even as a Third Marshal I never wanted to have any bastards. And it is even less appropriate for a King”.

Emerald blushed again, this time her skin went almost scarlet. She stood up.

“I am quite ready to go down for a breakfast, my lord”.

Eomer took her kindly by an elbow.

“That won’t do. Give me my name”.

Emerald stumbled.

“I am ready to go, E-Eomer”, she said.

Chapter Text

Eomer was going down the halls in the lightest of spirits, but when he sat down the table with his new wife by his side his brows contracted a bit. It was a pleasant scene actually — such a joyful company on such a blissful morning. Emerald talked vivaciously with Eowyn in Rohirric, sometimes bending over the table to retell to Faramir most interesting parts in the common speech. Eomer searched her incredulously. The contrast of her behavior was stunning — so easy with everyone, so timid with himself. She was really a princess, gracious to servants, amiable to her equals. She had no difficulty to talk to the most farouche ones, but she hadn't even dared to glance at her husband. At first Eomer was surprised to find her Rohirric so good, but now she spoke away freely in Sindarin with elves that came for the wedding. Alright then, at least he won’t blush for her wits, he half expected his southern wife to be dumb. But her looks… he couldn’t stand the contrast of his golden halls and that dark-haired girl. She looked too… foreign. In his heart he found her strikingly beautiful, but supposed that to be his own lust and whim. Of course everyone supposed he married an utter crow, thought he. And she must be greedy and wicked, as all those darklings. Yes, he can’t be distracted by a few kisses and some passionate moments. Aragorn thought her to be noble and good — but he must be deceived too. Eomer watched as the sun rays reflected on her black curls. How such a queen must repel his people. He found the bread in his mouth suddenly too dry and nearly choked.

Emerald saw the face of her husband grow darker every moment. He looked at her steadily and it worried her immensely. The night they spent together was very nice and even ardent, then why does her husband look so gloomy? She felt the laughter die on her lips and soon went out to catch some fresh air.

She stood on the porch and looked at vast fields beneath. Green, everlasting. Soft breeze rippled her locks. The air was full of fragrances, not the heavy ones, like musk and ambergris, which were familiar to her, but floral and green and fresh. She breathed happily and smiled, watching horses leave their stables for pasture. Eomer, who quietly walked after her, saw that smile and softened. When Emerald turned around she saw him and her face grew paler. But she spoke in a cheerful voice.

“These plains are beautiful. And Meduseld is homely. It is almost a shame that dwarfs and elves came here to build new towns of stone.”

She paused, then cast her eyes away.

“You’re not pleased with me, Eo…” her voice broke. She felt that the intimacy, barely gained, was somehow gone.

“…my lord.”

Eomer noticed that title and noticed the shadow, crossing the face of his wife. He couldn’t tell her that this marriage was a huge mistake from the start, for it couldn’t be undone. What was the point of speaking about blunders already committed. He sighed.

“You haven’t asked me for your wedding present yet”.

She jerked her head.

“A present? For me?”

“Yes, naturally. It is a custom. Do you want jewels or laces? Gold or rubies?”

She stood still.

“Have you ever been in the Houses of healing?” At last she said.

“I have.” Eomer looked puzzled. Of course he had, some of the darkest and happiest memories were bound to that place in Minas Tirith.

“I don’t need gold, I already have enough. Build me a house to heal in it, I do it well”.

Eomer was astonished.

“You’ll have it."

His tone changed.

"But you still haven’t asked for something for you especially. So no jewels for a princess?”

“Jewels?" She played with her ring absently. "Well, if you insist. I’d like to see some. The glittering caves of Aglarond”.

She looked him in the eyes.

“With you”.

“So be it”, said Eomer, confused. So, she wanted to play the part of his wife and a queen to his people.

They returned to the halls. The meal was over, and the guests were starting to amuse themselves with dances and music. Emerald was glad when King Elessar asked her for a dance, but she saw her own king going out of the hall and her heart sank. Just some hours ago, lying in his arms, she felt that there was something between them… not a feeling, no, but at least they were kin, they were almost close. Now she thought that his warm eyes and soft words were a mere play of her imagination.

Chapter Text

Barely a week after Emerald's coronation Eomer went north with King Elessar. The King himself did not expect Eomer to join him, but he rode away with his eoreds almost gladly. Emerald wistfully watched him leave and felt deep in her heart that her husband wouldn't stay in the Mark because of her.

For three months there were next to no news from him. She knew from his rare scratches some good tidings of their route, but he never asked her any questions, never expressed any concern or emotion. Before Eomer left he ordered his people to obey Emerald's every word, and she was surprised to find that the Rohirrim actually treated her like a queen, never questioning her authority. She definitely was not unexperienced and moreover was glad for distraction, so her days went smoothly. Rohan was facing the winter, so the queen ordered to prepare food and clothes for the poorest, spent many weeks plotting out next year's crops and stock raising. And though she hadn't yet her houses of healing, she made some improvements and dedicated many of her night hours to making medications and visiting those diseased in body. The household of Meduseld was quite pleased to find the new queen so efficient. At last there was someone to conduct not the warfare but everyday life, for cattle was bred, babies were born, roads built, seed bought; and everywhere could be seen a queen's delicate figure in plain dress riding her elegant mare. She never showed any sign of discomfort, but people had eyes to see that she was lonely in her palace and had tongues to speak how unlucky she was to be neglected by their king. Emerald felt forlorn indeed, but the time crept on and she got quite used to sleep in her big bed alone.

In the last days of October news came that the riders were on their way home. The queen's heart skipped a beat, but she couldn't say to herself, was it for happiness or fear. How badly she missed her husband and how timid she was to meet him. Anxiety stirred in her bosom, but soon she got a letter from him, saying that he would go to Ithilien at first, for Eowyn was about to give birth to her first child.

"Please come", said the postscript, "for my sister is much frightened. I'll send Elfhelm to Meduseld so you can go."

Emerald was confused. She didn't think to disobey her husband, but still she pondered whether she would be much of use in Gondor. But the next week came a letter from Eowyn herself. Eomer's sister was much more pleasant in correspondence than her brother, but this letter was different — dreary, so unlike Eowyn's usual self. She laughed at her own fears in this letter, but it didn't seem believable, and she never asked Emerald to come, though she praised her efforts in training nurses in Edoras. But in the end of the letter were words in Westron.

Do come.

Emerald thought it must have been Faramir's handwriting.

Please come.

Do come.

Suppose she really should go.

The queen decided to go straightaway and consented only to take three riders to accompany her. She was a skilled rider, so she wanted to come to Ithilien in less than a week.

...

Eomer stood on the high hill facing the valley. The wind bit his face but he was so used to it that it hardly bothered him. He watched the valley till his eyes were sore, but it was empty. Eowyn was in labor from dawn, and though Eomer knew next to nothing about childbirth, it was clear that something was wrong. The cries his sister made were so eery that he would do everything to stop her pain, but there was nothing in his powers. Faramir was almost out of his mind with fear and anxiety, and the midwife didn't even dare to tell him how bad the situation really was. When Faramir went out of Eowyn's chambers, sat on the floor and cried, Eomer felt that he couldn't just stay there doing nothing. He was not quite sure that his wife could make a big difference, but he needed something to hope for, someone to wait for. That's why he stood on the hill in the twilight, trying not to think about that awful day when he thought he had already lost his sister. That time there was Aragorn to save her life, but this night was different. And there was one more little life to worry about. And what if Emerald comes later, even one day later...no, he mustn't think of it.

Eomer's heart leapt before his eyes saw riders in the valley. The small dots were approaching with every second and some minutes later he saw that it was really his queen. She was pale and exhausted, the horses looked nearly deadbeat, and queen's escort almost fainted when they stopped. Still the riders were much agitated to see their king and hasted to dismount and kneel. The queen got off her mare lightly and bowed.

"Westu Eomer hal!" said she.

The king looked at her and only then realized how he was glad to see her.

"I'm glad for my sister", thought he. "I couldn't have missed a woman I barely know".

He searched her. Emerald changed. Her face was no longer tanned, it was pale and her eyes were circled. She was even thinner than he remembered, perhaps, last months were more difficult for her than she'd admit, thought Eomer.

"I rode two last days with almost no stops", muttered Emerald, noticing his look. "I had a feeling that I should make haste".

...

When they entered Eowyn's chambers, the silence hit them. No way it could be a good sign. Faramir was sitting near the bed, holding his wife's hand. The servants were busy, but their faces were solemn and sorrowful. Eomer trembled.

"It is not a deathbed, not yet," said Emerald loudly. She told Eomer to take Faramir away and started to make mixtures and give orders to midwives. Faramir was obedient and didn't make any objections. Two of them sat in the next room and left the door open, while the servants were rushing to and fro, bringing new sheets, removing the blooded ones. The night was chilly, but the maid forgot to make fire in every room but one.

It was dreadful. Faramir was sitting still with his head in his hands, Eomer was drowsing against his will. He suddenly found that Emerald's presence, with her cool voice and steady hands, comforted him greatly. Hours that felt like days were passing, with servants heeding Emerald's bidding and Eowyn's feeble moans.

At dawn, and it was the dawn of the winter solstice day, someone entered the room with light steps. Eomer raised his head. Faramir blinked. There stood Emerald, disheveled, with haggard eyes, but beaming.

"I congratulate you, Faramir of Ithilien, for your heir is born", she said happily. Faramir cried and leapt to his feet, but Emerald stopped him with her hand.

"Eowyn is sleeping, I gave her a strong mixture. Do not disturb her, she had a close escape tonight. But your son is in the room next to hers, you can see him".

Eomer watched Faramir leaving the room, but made no attempt to accompany him. He just felt the horrible weight lifting from his shoulders and drank in the sudden joy. Emerald turned to him.

"Eowyn is out of danger now, I think. I didn't want to mention it, but I'm afraid she wouldn't be able to bear more children".

"After a night like this Faramir, perhaps, would be relieved to know that".

Eomer looked in his lady's red-rimmed eyes. She stood there, so brave, so handsome.

"Westu Emerald hal", he said.

Chapter Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

...

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

"Sing for me", Emerald asked softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

That spring morning was delightful, clear and bright. The pastures were green already, and the horses were scattered around. On his left Eomer noticed the new herds that were part of Emerald's dowry. Those horses with long and slim elegant legs were almost all black, and it was good, for Rohirrim lacked black horses after the orc raids of the past. But Eomer's heart didn't swell with joy or pride as it usually did when he saw that his land was prosperous and promising. He didn't sleep well that night.

It all started a while ago when his servants asked him if they can renew Theodred's chambers. He even heard something about "making room for an heir to come", which annoyed him. Emerald was still not with child, though since his return from the last march many a month had passed. But perhaps it would be right still, he thought, to look through his cousin's belongings himself, lest some careless maid ruined things, dear to his heart. So yesterday he at last went to Theodred's chambers. At first there were some bittersweet findings — some books he remembered, even their first swords. And then... there was it, put in Theodred's headboard — thin pile of paper. Eomer hesitated a bit, but decided to look through it in order to decide whether to keep it or not. Now he partly wished he hadn't noticed it at all. There were letters, written in a fancy handwriting, and almost from the very first words Eomer knew, who had written them. His wife. There were not so many of them, because times were hard and Theodred must have used his own messenger to get them. Eomer sat on the bed and faint-heartedly read them all. They were in Rohirric, but someteimes Emerald used Sindarin for poems. The letters were cheerful, brilliant and he knew now the woman who wrote them so well. It was her in every word, only... only not so restrained. And not so wistful. He felt a pang in his heart. Seldom did she get so lively with him. And he had no one to blame but himself. If it was Theodred whom she had married, he wouldn't check her and scorn her just because she was from Harad. Eomer read all the letters through several times, nearly mad with fear, that in some part his wife'd written about her feelings. But there was no romance, not even one word of her future hopes. Well then. He felt that his face was glowing with heat, and the same heat ate his heart.

That was yesterday. He took the letters with him and spent the night in his study. Emerald came there after the midnight, but he pretended to be fast asleep, so she just brushed his cheek with her soft fingers and went away. And in the morning he went for a ride at dawn. He couldn't face his wife, but he didn't know why exactly. He was just furious, but at the same time he longed to see her. But what if he sees in her eyes disappointment? What if he finds there yearn for Theodred?

...

Emerald felt her eyes burning with unshed tears. She got no sleep last night too, for her husband never joined her. She thought that they were finally beginning to get on, because Eomer not only enjoyed her company at night, but they also spent most of the days inseparably, sometimes even joking and laughing, while managing all the routine. And yesterday he just went to sleep in his study. Emerald went after him, but he pretended to be asleep. She was sure he was faking, she knew him now so well that even his breathing could tell her everything. So Eomer didn't want to see her, but why? She was so nervous that could not eat, and the glass of water made her nauseous. Or was it not because of the water?.. She wanted so much to go up to her room, but she didn't want to make servants suspicious. They were already talking, for their lord was not present at the table and it was quite unusual. So at least she should behave and not make a fool of herself, crying alone at her meal.

...

At sunset Eomer entered his chambers. He was absent all day and felt, that not only it would be wise to return, but also he began to miss Emerald immensely. And if she were sad that it was him, who entered and not his cousin — so be it.

Emerald sat by the window. She was not her usual upright self, she looked... defeated. But at his approaching she stood up, though her eyes were still diverted.

"Where've you been?" she asked flatly. And immediately she covered her face with her hands, as if frightened at her own bluntness.

"I was riding. In fact I am not surprised you don't seem very eager to welcome me. Perhaps you wished to have another one here", Eomer didn't want to say those stupid and insulting words, but they came out freely and he couldn't now take them back.

Emerald lifted her eyes to him aghast.

"What are you talking about, Eomer?"

He wanted to hold himself with dignity, but something inside him unraveled and he knew not how to keep it inside. Half of him didn't want to keep it, he wanted to hurt Emerald with his words.

"I say, too bad for you that you had to go with the second prize only. Too bad that Theodred died, and it is me whom you ended with".

He thought she would be angry. But she wasn't, she was just sad and perplexed.

"Did something happen?" asked she.

"Did it? Well, first things first, I found the letters to the love of your life," and he took out the letters and threw them on the bed.

The room was silent for several minutes. Eomer breathed heavily and regretted every single word he muttered.

"Those are not love letters, you can read them and make sure", Emerald said at last. She drew her breath.

"I was devastated when there were no news from Theodred. I knew that there could be only one reason for it. But I didn't love him, Eomer. I didn't have time to fall for him. Those were letters to a friend".

Eomer was so ashamed of himself and so relieved all at once that didn't even move.

"But you... your valor and heart, your thoughts and your deeds I love."

"You love me?" he asked incredulously.

Emerald smiled, but it looked strained and crooked.

"Didn't you know? Well then, please do not laugh at your foolish wife who had courage to love you", Emerald said, half jokingly, half in earnest, watching his reaction closely.

Eomer felt joy inside him, joy so big that there was no room for any other feeling at the moment.

"And seeing your jealousy... there is still hope that I may prove to be a beloved one for you some day", she concluded sardonically.

There was a pause. 

"I knew not jealousy till yesterday", said Eomer at last, and both of them immediately knew that they were not the words she hoped for nor the words he wanted to say.

"I can promise you not to give you any reason for it, my king", said Emerald, and her tone was soft and sincere. "Let us get some sleep."

Chapter Text

There was something strange and menacing in the air that evening in June. It was rather early actually but the clouds were gathering low and the world suddenly turned yellowish and muted. There was no rain still, but the stiffness was unexpectedly noticeable and Eomer even choked. The plains were adorned with all sorts of flowers and weeds, but that particular hour smelled of dust. Eomer patted Firefoot's back — he was not riding, he was walking besides his horse. He didn't want to go back to Meduseld, and he almost feared the night that was now rapidly approaching. Emerald was not there and he was surprised to know that without her he felt uneasy and unhappy. A fortnight ago she went to Ithilien to visit Eowyn and little Elboron, and she was so happy and eager to leave Meduseld, that it made Eomer angry. He told himself that he would be better off without her, but deep inside he knew that without his wife life now seemed insipid. Eomer took to drinking every night, as in days of yore, and that gave him nightmares. He was once again in that gloomy times of no hope and those dreams made him wake up shaking and crying. Alone. But the thought that Emerald was finally having a good time with people who respected and loved her — that was comforting. How come that he wasn't the one to make her happy? Eomer was bound to admit that she tried her best to make him happy and pleased. She was a good queen for his people, his palace was now a very cheerful place, and she always distracted him from gloomy thoughts and made him laugh.

Nah, not anymore. Eomer shook his head and frowned, shivering. The first raindrops fell on the grass and it made the meadows make strange whispering sounds.

"I should drink less," thought Eomer. "It does me no good".

Yes, for the last few weeks Emerald didn't try to follow his every step, didn't look up into his eyes to see if he's happy anymore, didn't try to amuse him. Even in the night she became colder, while Eomer felt closer to her than ever before. She took to sitting up late alone in his study.

"And we never went to the glittering caves", Eomer thought suddenly. It was the only thing she ever asked of him. He felt sick with himself.

The rain now began to pour in earnest, but Eomer was so unwilling to go under the roof, that he still lingered around. At long last he heard thunder and finally mounted his horse.

At the palace there was some commotion, and when Eomer entered it he saw that maids were running to and fro merrily and the whole place looked much more pleasant than several hours before. He knew at once — his queen was home. Eomer shook his damp hair and hasted to go into the halls. Everything was getting ready for late dinner and the fire was roaring. His people were also happy that queen was home, so they wanted to welcome her heartily, it dawned on Eomer. Emerald herself was nowhere to be seen, but people in the hall looked through the whole bunch of great goods she brought them from Gondor.

Eomer found her upstairs. She had already taken a bath and was now sitting by the fire, combing her hair. Emerald merely looked at him entering and hailed him curtly. Oh, that was so unlike her. Eomer waited for his queen to get ready, went with her downstairs and sat there patiently, while she was chatting with anyone but him, gave her smiles to anyone but him, told new anecdotes from Gondor, discussed new fashions with the noble ladies and complimented every new dish at the table. He noticed that she had no mead or wine and didn't pour it to himself either. He wanted this endless night to end and to be finally with his wife alone.

Long after midnight the feast was over. Emerald started undoing her hair when they entered their bedroom, but Eomer could take it no longer. He closed the door and sat near his wife's chair right on the furs in front of the fire. He was so tall that their eyes were nearly on the same level, except Emerald didn't look at him. Eomer took her chin with his hand and lifted it.

"Emerald, I need to know what's going on."

There was a silence for several moments and Eomer was wondering why on earth would she refuse to talk to him. But Emerald trembled and finally spoke, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"I needed to talk to you long ago. But I was so frightened that even escaped to Ithilien just to avoid it. And it is hard to me to speak now, so please, promise me not to interrupt me till I finish".

"Of course".

Eomer heard his own voice, so confident. But that was definitely not how he felt at the moment.

"I am with child", said Emerald simply.

...

"I am with child", she said.

Well then, Eomer did not utter a word. She was too afraid to look at him to see his reaction, so she continued hastily.

"I knew it for a while, but I also knew that once you became aware of it you'd shun me. So I didn't have the courage to tell you straightaway."

"Why would I shun you?" said Eomer quietly, forgetting his promise to keep silent.

Emerald was so surprised at his question that lifted her eyes. It seemed so obvious to her and she couldn't make out why it wasn't as obvious to him.

"Well... you know. Because my duty as your wife would be considered fulfilled. I am no fool, Eomer. I know you loathe me, I know that the only reason for you to bear with me is to have an heir".

Her tone was not bitter, it was so matter-of-factly that it made Eomer numb. Emerald went on.

"And I... I loved you so madly that every day I wanted to postpone our parting, even for a little while."

"Parting!" Eomer jumped to his feet. "What are you talking about, Valar save me?"

She stood up too and made a step towards him.

"I talked to Eowyn and perhaps I can stay in Ithilien with her while I'm pregnant. And maybe a little longer with a baby, not to bother you here."

She looked at Eomer and saw his face white, white as a snow. Was it with fury?

"So you figured it out nicely", said he through gritted teeth at last.

"I just hope that you'll let me stay by my child while it is still little", mumbled Emerald, not quite sure what an outburst to expect. Her knees were feeble so she sat down once again.

Eomer paced through the room to reach for an ewer. Than he poured all the water in it on his head and rubbed his face vigorously. Thus calmed down he turned to Emerald, who sat still.

He then sat by her feet and buried his face in her skirts. They sat quietly for a long, long while.

"I lost my mother and father too early. How could you think that I am able to deprive my own child of its mother?"

He looked at Emerald.

"When I married you, I knew that I was marrying a very good, noble, generous heart. Everyone who knew you told me that. But all the dark years of war left an imprint on me, so when you became my wife, I took cruelty, sneering, condescension as a shield. But every time I hurt you, I hurt myself instead."

Emerald looked at her husband incredulously.

"You're so much more than I deserve. True, I hated you now, when you told me your plan of our separation, but I have no one to blame but myself for that."

He paused.

"I love you, Emerald, I love you more than the life itself. It took me too much time to understand that there is nothing shameful in love for the kindest person I ever met".

Her eyes were still wide and Eomer saw that she didn't believe him yet.

"You think me a tyrant, and maybe I really am one, for I'm not letting you go elsewhere. You are the queen of Rohan and my wife. Is it a good enough reason to stay with me, Emerald?"

"It is", she said almost inaudibly and touched his brow, as if to check if he was real. He caught her fingers with his lips and felt an urge to claim her at once as his.

Lying there, feeling her body burning under his kisses, Emerald was looking at the waxing moon through the window. She was afraid to fall asleep, for she feared to find in the morning that it was just a dream. With his face buried in her black locks slept Eomer, his right palm on her belly. A nightingale sang somewhere, and queen's heart sang along with it.