#mental health in pregnancy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

epilogue-and-prologue · 2 years ago

Text

Happiness - Part 3 - Final Part

Fandom: LOTR Ship: Eomer x F!Reader Trope: Arranged marriage Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Word counts: 6 773

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

When you woke up the first time, the bed was warm but empty. The sun outside was barely visible behind the mountains, but Eomer was already gone. A sigh escaped your lips, as you snuggled deeper into the covers. It still smelled like him, crackling fire and sex mixed in a musky embrace. You would not be getting out of bed anytime soon, your eyes fluttering close. The second time you woke up, the sun was higher up, but not all that much. A sound had woken you up, a door closing if you could recall. A dip in the bed made you frown before a soft kiss was placed on your naked shoulder. You could smell the spring’s arrival in the air, rain and wet earth as Eomer’s hand slid around your waist, his clothes soft against your back, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

“Good morning, lover.”

His hands were on yours making this place the only one you would be all day if you could. Upon turning around, you were met with a sincere smile and a kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning, Eomer.”

His name in your mouth was the only music he ever wanted to hear.

“Still not pregnant I gather?”

You laughed at the question. You touched your stomach, as if in search of something.

“No, I don’t think so. Would you mind if we tried again?”

He arched a brow, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips, his eyes shining with something you knew to be lust. It mirrored your own.

“Right now?”

You nodded eagerly, laughing when he pulled his tunic off, grabbing your body, caressing every valley and crease. He made good on his promise to be good to you. That day and all the others too. Nights were spent in his company, sometimes just reading in peace, together. Sometimes you were having diners with your parents, hosting diplomatic venues. Others you were dragging him out of his office, by any means necessary, more often than not finding yourself naked on his desk (or against the door). Even as king, he made it a priority to be with you as much as he could, especially after you made him sleep on his own when he prioritized a meeting with your own father over you.

As the winter months came, your appetite only grew. Nausea plagued you in the mornings, and before you could tell for sure, both your mother and Gera as well as the midwife confirmed it. You were with child.

“Eomer?

-Yes?”

You put your hand around your stomach, smiling brightly. It took nothing else from you for him to understand. He embraced you, kissing you deeply, now even more careful than ever as if in the span of a minute you had turned into fragile glass.

That night was spent around the fireplace, talking about future names.

“I was thinking, if it’s a girl, we could go for Brunhilde?

-My mother’s name? What did you do?

-Nothing that could grant her to be angry with me, I assure you.”

His false air of innocence earned him a hit against his chest, half-hearted while you laughed to yourself, wondering what could have happenned for him to suggest such an old fashion name - and that just to appease your mother’s desires.

Eomer turned even more protective of you as the weeks kept on, as you were running around the castle, helping everywhere and anywhere you could.

As you usually would, but he would have none of it. Especially when his sister gave birth, and you asked, begged, insisted to go see her even if it meant that you would go without him.

“I promise to be careful.

-I know you will be, I know my knights will be too. It is not that I am worried about.”

You frowned, unsettled by his words. He was already laughing around the words of his answer, grabbing your hands.

“It is me. How will I cope, these days without you? Without your touch and your care? How am I supposed to survive?

-You will manage I believe. Don’t act like a child. I cannot have two children to watch over once this one is born.”

He arched a brow before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you deeply.

“All things considered, I might just not let you go see this nephew of ours.”

The way he mentioned off-handedly the fact that he was both yours never failed to bring butterflies to your stomach. Instinctively, you smoothed your hand over your belly. His hand joined yours in a pleasant embrace. He kissed your forehead, leaning into you.

“I will miss you. I will join you in the next few days. Sooner, if I can.”

As his hand was drawing soothing circles where it rested, you let your head fall against his shoulder, lulled into a dreamless sleep.

The day before the departure was a heavy one. You had finished packing for the week, hoping the gifts you brought with you would be enough.

“My love, you are going to spoil the child.

-Better that than nothing. He is not mine, if he grows to be incredibly annoying I’m not the one who will have to handle his moods.”

Eomer’s laughter echoed through the room.

“I do hope, for my brother in law’s sake, that it is not the case.”

Before going to bed, you pulled out an extra blanket for the travel, the weather turning chilly this time of year.

In the middle of the night, you awoke to a sharp pain in your abdomen. Only thinking it was another pregnancy symptom, you slipped out of to fetch some water. You did not make it that far. A cry escaped your lips as you found yourself kneeling over on the ground.

“What is it?”

Eomer woke up when you left the bed and now worry was taking over his better instincts. His words were met with silence. Anguished, he reached out for you, in vain. He lit up the candles. What he found was what his nightmares wished they could conjure.

You were on the floor, sobs escaping you without a sound as if you were biting your tongue. Your hands were gripping the sheets at the edge of the bed. A fever seemed to be running through you. What he would never be able to erase from his memory was the pool of blood between your legs, staining the floor, your nightgown, your legs. Without thinking, he caught you in his arms, your tears wetting his chest as he went and called for the healers.

You could barely move. The pain was so strong, you thought you were going to die. Eomer’s hand was the only thing keeping you tethered to this world. The words of your mother’s prayers accompanied you as the night grew into a new day. She, as well as yourself knew what was happening even before they told you. The midwives were keeping their heads down, wiping the blood from their hands. They had given you a sedative for the pain, waiting until morning to see if you would live. It was not what you wanted. At that moment, all you wanted to do was die, just like your baby had; a part of yourself gone with them.

Dawn brought news of your miscarriage to the population. The infirmary was soon replaced by a bedroom, Eomer’s ever-watchful eyes never leaving you the whole time. From then on, your shared bedroom was abandoned, the home to this memory too vivid at the forefront of your mind. The names you had uttered and wished for, how they would look like with Eomer’s smile, a whole life in front of them. Now, they were gone, no more incarnation than a breeze in summer. Torture would have been kinder.

Days passed in a blur, winter morphing into spring and then summer and autumn again. Only Gera, your mother and Eomer could approach you. You were thankful he never insisted you talk to him, just sitting with you, sharing his days, and his concerns even when you would not answer.

You only ever left your bed to wash, change into another nightgown and go back. The maids were going in and out of your room changing your sheets and collecting your dirty clothes. It lasted so long, your parents feared for your life. Eomer’s concern could be seen even from a distance, and the whispers of the maids and the midwives were driving you insane.

As spring grew, your body took his own pace again. Your period came back. Eomer was the one to sleep with you when it happened. He felt helpless, cradling your head against his chest, soothing the pain however he could, panic taking you over, uncontrollable tears streaming down your cheeks. It was the final straw, the blood a sign of final death for that baby you lost, as well as a trigger to that night you would never forget.

Another morning in the winds announcing the beginning of winter, another day of loneliness. Eomer had gone to Gondor, explicitly demanded by King Aragorn concerning raids happening at their borders. He was more worried than he had let on to you. He had no choice but to go. You thought it would provide clarity for him, maybe a breath of fresh air, companionship…

All the things you knew you had deprived him of in the last few months.

Gera entered your room carrying a full plate of food at midday, even though she knew you would barely touch it.

“Your Highness, your breakfast is here.”

It was difficult from your windows to see what was happening downwards. The marketplace inside the city was full, but you could not see who was there, the snow covering the ground and shops in a thin and solid layer, as snowflakes kept falling.

“Thank you, Gera.”

The old woman gasped upon seeing your face, before shutting her mouth closed. She knew her place and you hated it. You had not slept that night, your lids becoming heavy without ever letting you rest.

“Milady, if I may be so bold, you should go get changed.

-I am fine, Gera.”

Her eyes stilled for a moment, reminiscing something you could not see. Her tone became commanding, solid stone against you. She would not let you fall into the abyss like this.

“No, you are not.” She put down her tray on a nearby table. “You have not been since the miscarriage. I know I am out of line, but I refuse to let you wither away like this. You will get dressed and you will accompany me outside. I am not asking.”

Stunned, you could not answer her, even when anger and frustration took you over. You knew she would not let it go. Even more so, when she came back with your mother. Her eyes told you more about your state than your own could.

All the dams had broken in her. She was crying and you received her with open arms, finding yourself crying on her shoulder. Only then did you realize, that seeing you like this must have broken her heart into a thousand pieces. What selfish person would put their mother through such pain? All those years and now you knew her grief, now you knew why she could not stop talking about her children passing. They were ghosts accompanying her everywhere she went. Present until her last breath.

Soon, you found yourself embracing one another, kneeling on the ground. Gera helped you get back up, all sniffles and tears herself. As she was about to bow out, you grabbed her forearm, asking for her to sit with you. She did not leave.

Silently, you all shared the food left on the table, hands clasped over theirs in a sign of gratitude. You spent the rest of the day with both of them, strangely accommodating one another, going out and cooking again, for the first time in months. It had been so long since you left your room, you wondered for a moment if you’d remember where to go. Gera was quick to guide you, as your mother kept talking and talking about how the winter had been so cold this year, the older women distracting you from any semblance of loneliness.

They were a bowl of fresh air, soothing your pain a little bit of gossip and tea, at a time.

Eomer’s trip had been silent. Leaving you was the hardest thing he could do. Initially, he had planned to refuse. You were the one who had insisted, telling him he could not put his duty on hold any longer. Seeing his sister felt like a balm to his heart but, when he saw his nephew’s face, his heart broke all over again.

The child was a mere babe still, babbling away at random things, throwing food around. He had been named after a Stewart of Gondor, Thorondir.

He had his mother’s eyes, vivacious and rebellious. He had been letting the boy play with his hair, letting him get it tangled and wet with his slobber. That night, the dark had been quiet, the bird abandoning the planes reaching beyond where his eyes could see. He was thinking of all the memories you both had conjured for that child, the ones that would never come to be.

The night he had found you, his first concern was that he was going to have to watch you die. All the blood you lost had clung to his skin as if it had been his own wound.

After learning of your loss, he knew he had failed you. You were clear with him from the very beginning: you wanted a family. Your dedication and self-sacrifice never ceased to make him proud of you, but what good it did to you, he did not know. His heart clenched, the babe in his arms lulling himself to sleep against his chest. He brought him back to Eowyn, her face a haven of happiness if he had ever seen one. But he had seen one. Yours. Before all of this had happened.

His sister’s hand startled him.

“Lost in thought brother?”

She was putting Thorondir in his cradle, soundly asleep, ever so careful with the small being when she added.

“If you are doing what I think you are doing, let me tell you one thing: this was not your fault. Miscarriages are more common than you would know.

-I…” He stopped, tears forming in his eyes. It stunned Eowyn to silence, her brother never one to show vulnerability before. “I was so helpless… Useless. For all I am, I could not be that for her. I could not be there as I should have.”

The lump in his throat kept him from speaking.

“When I left, her voice was so faint, so frail… She made me promise to keep warm.”

He chuckled, despair distinct in the undertones of his voice.

“Even when so low, she still manages to show care and love for me. I fear she believes I might leave her. I have never felt so lost in my entire life.”

As he was whispering those words, the door opened revealing Faramir, slightly flushed by the evening air, accompanied by somebody Eomer recognized immediately. He stood to his feet in a hurry.

“Your Highness.

-You may ease Eomer. I am here as a friend.”

Aragorn was only wearing his ranger’s attire. He closed the door behind him, Faramir offering him a cup of wine he accepted gratefully.

They all settled a little further away into the rooms, around an oval wooden table, to not wake the babe. Smoke was starting to gather above their heads when Aragorn spoke again.

“When we met earlier, you did not say how much the loss of your child was affecting you.”

Upon his arrival, the King had assured him his thoughts were with him and his wife for their loss. Eomer stayed silent, not feeling capable of articulating any words capable of qualifying what he felt.

“Not many people know this, but Arwen and I found ourselves in a similar situation. She was barely aware she was with child when they were ripped from us.”

Eomer’s tears were making him ache deep inside his chest. For your touch. For you. Who you were before this tragedy. Who he was before too.

“Her grief was overcoming. Her soul shattered. So much so, I feared I was losing her.”

Eowyn and Faramir were gripping each other’s hands, her head resting on his shoulder, as she was watching over her brother, again powerless in helping him grieve.

“Time and only time can heal this wound. The only thing you can do is be there for her, and you must know that your grief is shared amongst the people at this table.

-And I am thankful for that, my lord. Alas, I am at my wits’ end. Every time I leave her room, I fear she… I fear I will find her body the next time I open the door.”

Aragorn’s hand reached for Eomer’s shoulder.

“I know. This fear I have had myself. I know it all too well. In truth, my friend, it will never really pass. All you can do is support her in any way she needs. But I trust you to do so if you have not already.”

The Rohirrim smiled sadly, brows furrowed.

“Only someone who has felt the same thing she has can understand her pain. If she is able, let her know that Arwen would be willing to talk with her on the matter. Considering she just gave birth, moving will not be an option but she offered to write letters.

-This is ever so kind, your Highness.”

He smiled, understanding shining through his eyes.

“No. My wife is the kind one. I am merely the messenger.

-Then, If I may be so bold, thank her for me. And for her.”

These exchanges lasted long into the nights Eomer stayed there and by the end, the pain had receded, the guilt hiding in the nights he could not sleep.

Suddenly, the cold breeze of winter hit Eomer at full force, made him shiver and snapped him out of his memories. The lights of Edoras were dimmed by the snow, he had never been so happy to see them again.

At last, it meant he would see you again.

* “Eomer!”

His steps had first led him to your chambers, and what he found there surprised him. Your mother, Gera and two women he did not know were there, playing a game of cards. You looked less pale than the last time he had seen you and even if your smile did not quite reach your eyes, your embrace was as fierce and strong as he remembered.

“How much I’ve missed you, my love.

-Me too.”

His eyes wandered around the room, bewildered. Feeling somewhat guilty, you pulled him aside.

“I… I hope this is alright. Finding myself in their company when I can’t sleep is very helpful.”

A warmth grew in his chest. Like a flower, you were blooming again, cared for and surrounded by people who only wanted the best for you. He knew you were in good hands. He only hoped to help you grow again from now on.

“You are usually there but since you were not I…

-It is quite alright. I am happy to see you smiling again. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

His lips met the crown of your head, in a departing gesture. You stopped him, a strong sense of longing inside of you.

“We are almost done. Would you wish to stay? I have missed you greatly these past few days. Sleeping without you is…”

His embrace drowned all your worries in a second.

“Of course, I will stay.”

Once the game ended - won by Gera, of course - and the women were gone, Eomer helped you get into your nightgown, before stripping his clothes and going to bed with you. You settled between his legs, his chest to your back. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, before laying down, sleeping a dreamless sleep entangled with you.

After this, Eomer had made a point of spending even more time with you. Going as far as playing cards with the women who surrounded you now. Their names came easily to him when meeting them outside of your “reunions”. One was a merchant’s daughter, she had been married to a man of Rohan long before you, around your age named Hilde and the other was Gera’s daughter, Sofia. He was only now realizing how lonely you had been from the very beginning of your marriage, without the company of other women. Of friends.

You were astonished by the Queen’s offer. It was with a feeble hand you had written the first missive to her. Arwen was a delight. She offered advice and empathy, bonding with you through that shared experience. It was enlightening to understand this situation to be one of many and not only yours, especially considering the envy surrounding the new Queen. She had been somewhat like you, losing her people and embracing a new one she had to learn the ways of. Gracefully some would say. With force and determination, you had come to know. Throughout these exchanges, you formed a deep-rooted friendship akin to the one you had with Eowyn, despite the distance.

Days passed, weeks even bringing the warm air of spring with each passing moment, but something was still missing from your life. Your husband. He was there. Always there for you. You had talked about the grief and sorrow this loss had given you. He had been honest and gentle, always listenning to you.

Never had you mentioned the idea of trying for a child again. Yet, the idea was growing in you, each day, watered by the tales of your friends about their children. The subject was a difficult one, and you were still frightened at the thought that you could lose it again. Yet, even without the idea of having heirs, you were missing Eomer’s touch more than anything. It got lonely, the nights he would spend with you without so much as an attempt to be intimate with you. You dreamed of it, waking up at odds hours of the night, not even entertaining the idea of relieving yourself from this agony.

The desire in you was restless and you could not seem to be able to bear it any longer.

A knock on the door startled Eomer awake. Engrossed in his letters, he had not seen you standing there, nor heard you calling out his name.

“Good morning.”

The soft kiss you placed on his cheek made him warm and yearning for more. Even the faintest touch would light that fire in him. It had been so long since you had shared intimacy, he feared he would not remember how to please you.

“Good morning.”

Your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves, eyes cast away from him. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him how much you desired him to be with you again. All those words were neat and in order in your mind. To pull them out of there was a whole other story.

When his eyes were met by your avoidance, his eyebrows furrowed, jaws tightening resisting the urgent feeling of worry deep within his chest.

“What is it, my love?”

The sweet nothings. The sweet nothings were always the things that made you want him the most. Need him the most. He excelled in the art of body language but those words were the only triggers you needed for your body to want him.

He rose to his feet, taking your hands in his. The warmth spread in your cheeks, while his eyes were racking your face in search of what had happened. You gripped his hands tighter in yours, not looking at his face. You would have to face him at some point. You were a Queen after all. Queens did not hide, nor shamed from what they wanted.

Keeping that thought in mind, your grip tightened even more on his hands, before traveling up his chest, where your fingers weaved themselves on the linen of his shirt.

Your tone was so soft, lips red from nervous biting, eyes looking at him from under your lashes. Eomer’s train of thoughts entirely stopped when you pushed yourself up, your lips to his ear. The urgency in your words did not help.

“I want you, now, husband. Or I am going to lose my mind.”

In an instant, he had you over his shoulder his arms secured around your waist, while you were laughing at the audacity. Not one person you stumbled upon while you regained your shared room said a thing about the uncanny position you were in. Once arrived, he let you down, only to dive into your neck, nipping your skin there, while his hands were undoing your corset’s bonds.

“How much I missed you… How I missed your touch…”

There was a hunger in his words that made you ache for him deep in your heart. You grabbed onto his face, meeting his lustful eyes. Despite the presence of desire there, the ever-present adoration had made an appearance too. How much you wanted this man, or how much you cared for him could not be carried into any language known to mankind. Against his lips, you whispered “I love you” in a weak attempt to pour all those feelings somewhere, anyway. He kissed you ferociously, biting lightly on your lower lip. Eomer’s hands grabbed your dress, all but tearing it down from your body. His fingertips found their way up and down your spine, shivers following in their paths. On the other hand, you could not get him to take off any of his clothing which was infuriating you more than anything.

“Eomer…

-Yes, my love?”

Another breathless kiss made you dizzy, as he was expertly walking you back against your bed. You managed to stop him somehow.

“Eomer, get naked, now.”

He smiled against your collarbone, ever so smug in his ways, knowing perfectly the effect he had on you. Nonetheless, he obeyed you in a heartbeat, before pulling you down with him on the undone mattress.

His skin was littered with kisses, leaving behind traces of your passage in the form of bruises he would be unable to hide after the facts. He heaved a sigh at the feeling of your hands on him, the wet sounds of your mouth making him harder than he already was. Before he could stop you, your wicked and sinful tongue languidly wrapped itself around the tip of his cock and he jerked involuntarily against you. He was about to speak, when you pulled him inside your mouth, your hands wandering down his shaft in leisured and measured caresses. He was speechless, mouth dry, running only on the sound of your ministrations and the pleasure it elicited in him.

The whimpers he let out could have made you come in an instant. As much as you liked pleasuring him, you could not wait any longer to have him inside you, rocking his hips violently against yours. You were more than ready for it.

He knew what you wanted the moment you stopped to hover above him, teasing his tip with your wet mound. He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. He loved that sound almost as much as the ones you made in pleasure.

Now, under him, his hair was tickling your breasts in an ever-languishingly slow dance as he positioned himself before you. One movement of his hips and he was inside you. After that, it was impossible to keep yourself from meeting him in rhythm with his thrusts, tearing your name out of him as many times as you could. Your hands were clawing at his back, earning grunts and moans from him. You could feel him hit that spot every time he dragged himself in and out, completely seethed into you, filling you up until you could not tell what day it was.

The rapidly growing coil inside of you finally snapped, your back arching against him, and your mouth opened in a cry. As he felt you clenching around him, his hips stopped and the warmth of his semen sept inside you.

Eomer stayed there, not moving. He met your eyes, a deep frown there and a smile on your face. How he had missed that smile in that light, in that bed, with the feeling of you all over him. He pulled out soon after, tucking you under his chin, the beddings spread around you, modesty long forgotten. The pad of his fingers was a little rough against your skin, leaving trails of shivers behind.

You warmed yourself up in his embrace, pulling a sheet up for good measure. No words were needed when he looked down at you, content and happy, sharing a tender kiss with him.

After that occurrence, you resumed your intercourses almost daily. If a meeting was boring him, he would sneak out and find you. It came to the point, when you were certain every person living within these walls had seen or heard you at some point. Including, to your greatest dismay, your parents.

Upon entering the second year of your marriage, you found yourself pregnant again. Not so unlike the first time, you knew that you were with child but somehow you knew you would bear the child into this world against all odds. Still, the sickness overcoming you, the first months were spent on bedrest, to your greatest regret.

Hilde kept you company while Sofia was talking your ear off about the gossip she’d heard. Your mother and Gera were more silent, always looking at your stomach as if in fear fate would repeat itself. Even when you told them it would not. Specifically, then.

When you finally managed to get up and eat food without rejecting everything afterwards, your routine came back. Cooking in the kitchens, seeing the orphanages and their occupants during their recess at school, eating with Eomer at dinner always, having him eat you out afterwards…

The first months of this pregnancy felt normal and safe. Your belly was growing more and more, your skin stretching, soft scars littering your otherwise unmarred skin. Eomer loved those scars. He said that they were proof of the proper growth inside of you and could not be more proud you wore them. You liked to think of them as traces of your upcoming motherhood and it made you so emotional, you cried a few times at unfortunate moments. Eomer had also learned that your appetite had multiplied as well as your tastes. Spicy food was all you wanted to eat and he had to find a way to get those for you, even in the middle of the night. Poor husband of yours did not know what to do with himself when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes.

A few days into your sixth month, while partaking in a new card game with your friends, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You had felt movement before but never like this. Somewhat akin to a cramp but not quite like it either. Worry started to grow, but your mother reassured you quickly.

“The baby is kicking my dear.”

The women around the table cooed, trying to get a feel of your stomach. Gera thwarted them all away, in her understanding that it had made her want to kick people when she was pregnant herself. Your mother wholeheartedly agreed.

When you told Eomer that very same day, he paled in an instant.

“May I?”

You nodded, smiling until it hurt. You could not be happier. He kneeled in front of your seat, before pressing his right hand against your swollen stomach. Nothing happened until they kicked again, where his hand was resting. He looked up, bewildered and amazed by the small action, left without words. He had the habit of talking to them before, but now, his instincts were completely going awry, scared to death for both your safeties.

“In the beginning, I felt as if it could still be ripped away from us so easily… But, when she started kicking I knew it was there. Happening. I knew I had to meet her and let her know that I would always be there for her… -How do you know it’s a girl?”

He had kissed your brow, eyes shining with something you did not know. “A hunch. She reaches for me as you do.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze on you softened, a hand coming to rest on your ever-growing stomach.

“In your sleep, you reach out to me. She does the same thing.”

He kissed the palm of your hand, resting against his cheek, watching as you found yourself crying again, an occurrence he had come to know was harmless even if frequent during this pregnancy. Things were finally looking up. His eyes trailed down to your stomach again, placing a kiss there as a blessing. She was going to be just fine. He was sure of it.

Giving birth, as all the women around you had told you, was the worst part.

Specifically the part when you were begging for relief, Eomer holding one of your hands while your mother held the other the midwife telling you to push and push again as if you had not done it all already. And the worst part was that when your son was born, with light hair and soft eyes, perfect as he was, the pain was not over.

That moment led you to know that you had been pregnant with not one child but with two.

Eomer had been right. Your daughter reached for him the moment she laid eyes on him, and almost instantly stopped crying when carried into his arms.

Such a daddy’s girl, she was.

They would be growing up so fast. So soon.

You could not wait.

“Idis, Alaric, come back here!”

Eomer’s words were lost in the wind as his children ran down the hill, laughing at your slower pace.

“Let them. You know they always come back.

-I know.”

He kissed your brow gently, before changing his mind and whisking you up in his arms claiming your lips in a fiery embrace.

“Yet, they know how to get themselves into trouble quicker than even Eowyn’s son and that is saying something.

-I believe they inherited that from you.”

You smirked as he let you down. His eyes were still focused on the two silhouettes running in the grass, tackling on another to the ground.

“Idis, aim for the legs!”

You smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t encourage them. Besides, I thought women had no place on the battlefield.”

Eowyn had told you about his words for her, years before. Neither of you, ever since he had a daughter, had let him live it down.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?

-Or, Idis asked, and you yielded.”

He did not say anything, smiling against himself, but you could see the faint embarrassment in his eyes before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, quickly distracting you with feverish kisses.

“Eomer!”

The fact that the children were not far was a problem he did not seem very concerned with. Nor that you were already 5 months pregnant with the third one.

“It is entirely your fault I cannot keep up with the children we already have. Do you really want to aggravate your case?

-How is it my fault?”

In a gentle gesture, you put your hands around your belly. You came closer to him, whispering only for his ears to hear.

“I am pretty sure that you were the one who insisted on having another go with this. If I remember properly, you did everything you could to keep me in bed.

-As if you were resisting it in the first place.”

Faking exasperation, you shook your head at him. Before you could add to your aggravation with the man, your father appeared on the horizon, trotting to him on his horse. Once he reached you, he kissed your cheek tenderly and saluted his king.

“I am sorry to interrupt the family time but the emissaries have arrived.

-Eowyn and Faramir have arrived? I thought they were not due before tomorrow.

-Well yes and no. They arrived with company, and I am afraid that we’ll need more rooms.”

You exchanged a look with Eomer before you called back the children once more, this time bribing them with horses time. And grandpa. They adored their grandpa and it was adorable to see them run circles around the man.

“Well, I assume two Hobbits are in the midst?

-Yes, my lord.

-As well as a family of Gondor’s royalty?

-Yes, indeed my lord.” Eomer met your eyes, as you tried to keep the children from climbing the horse all on their own. You laughed at his bewildered face.

“That is all?

-Well, not exactly. You see, the Hobbits seem to have brought with them their families and Hobbits have very extended families. As well as numerous friends, such as a famous fellowship, they organized to reunite here.”

Before he could implode under the implications it would have, you stopped your husband’s train of thoughts.

“Eomer, I have organized for this. We were warned by your sister so I prepared the castle accordingly. She mentioned not telling you about it, but I fear you might faint if the surprise lasts any longer.

-You knew?”

His eyes grew serious. The children knew it all too well. It was these eyes they saw when they misbehaved.

“Ohoh, Mum’s in trouble.” Idis laughed behind her grandpa’s legs. He picked her up with some difficulty, holding her on his side. Elfhelm smirked at her reaction. “Yes, Mum is indeed in trouble. Come on little beasts, let’s get on grandpa’s horse and go back to the castle alright?”

Cries of glee erupted from the twins as he settled Idis in front and Alaric behind her. The three of them seemed rather amused by the situation, laughing as they trotted back towards the castle’s entrance.

You were now face to face with Eomer’s stern looks.

“You are in so much trouble.”

Your King was a lot of things but a skilled liar was not one of them. Soon, his face broke out in a mischievous smile, and you bolted knowing all too well what it meant.

He caught up with incredibly fast, tumbling you both down in the wild flowers, although he made sure he would be taking the most of the fall. Your wrists ended up loosely pinned to the ground, your husband looking down at you, an arched brow and that air about him that made you doubt you’d ever fall out of love with him. Pure adoration was not too much of a word to use when it came down to that face. It looked like your own, of that you were sure.

“What can I do to get out of this trouble, my lord.

-You know I hate it when you call me that and for that you shall pay.”

He smothered you kisses, tickling your sides until you were both breathless besides one another. Eomer’s fingertips traced down the shape of your face softly, before you cupped his hand with your own.

“We should be going.

-No.

-Eomer…

-No, I want to keep looking at you like this for as long as I can.”

He shushed you with a kiss you would not forget soon, cradling your face and neck with his hands, warm and flush against your skin.

This was a moment you would never forget, for all the moments with him were memorable. Everything you had lived through, the heartbreak and the harshness of parenthood sometimes, the loss of your mother a year after giving birth. Now you knew. Of all the marriages you could have had, only wishing for contentment for this one was a mistake, for you were happy and no one could take it away from your family. Not now, not ever.

For as long as you had each other, the story would continue and you would be alright.

Always.

#lotr fanfiction #lotr imagine #eomer x reader #eomer x f!reader #tw: sex #tw: miscarriage #tw: pregnancy #tw: birth #tw: blood #tw: mental health issues

171 notes · View notes