The Journey Home | Éomer Eadig
Word count: 2.8k
Pairing: Éomer x wife!reader
Description: The journey home can be cold and long without a merry band of Rohirrim and your husband, Eomer, to lighten the darkness
Content Warnings: fluff! takes place a year after the war of the ring, nonsexual shedding of clothes, making fun of friends, SFW.
Author's note: Happy Fourth of July, here's a Lord of the Rings fanfic lol. So, a little explanation for this one. The characters that you see in this fic are taken from my (unfinished) story on AO3 since I just wanted to add a cozy dynamic between friends. You do NOT have to go read it if you don't want to since this can be read as a standalone (but it's linked in my LotR masterlist if you did want to read it)! I hope you enjoy the story!
The sound of hearty laughter rang throughout the camp. Men and women emboldened by the drinks in their hands let their joy ring like bells now that evil was vanquished and the world was slowly returning to how it should have been.
No more orcs roamed the lands of men and no more towers oppressed them from above. There were only kind kings and kinder peoples. Light had come creeping back into Rohan and you were glad for it. Happiness had returned and there was singing in the halls of their Lords once again.
The King’s escort held a camp of nearly 50 people, with the masses split up and by separate fires as they combated the cold, mid-autumn night. You were glad that your small company was managing to stay warm nearly by laughter alone, although the fire and drink helped tremendously.
Meat sizzled on the fire in front of your group. Éothain and Leofred, the king's fellow riders, sat across from you. The king's sister, Éowyn, and her husband, Faramir, sat in the circle as well. Sunniva and Estrild, Leofred’s wife, sat beside you as your friends and ladies maids.
Tomorrow, the entourage would embark on the last leg of your trip back home to Edoras, and spirits were high. The Rohirrim had been visiting King Aragorn in Gondor for the past few weeks for reasons of diplomacy as well as the friendship between kings. Although Aragorn was his loyal friend and he enjoyed the sights of the White City, Éomer was overjoyed to return home with his sister, who longed for the golden halls of Meduseld after looking on the silver of Minas Tirith for so long.
“Look at the stars, they are winking down at you, my love,” Faramir whispered to Éowyn, just barely loud enough for the group to hear. The other married men immediately scoffed goodnaturedly at his softness, despite each of them having said equally gentle things to their own wives. Éowyn’s pale cheeks turned pink at the pretty words her husband was attempting to string together for her.
“Alright, alright,” the king huffed, “You are no poet, my friend. My sister may entertain your words, but we should not have to endure them.”
The group shook with laughter, Éowyn most of all. Faramir gave an amiable shrug at his brother-in-law’s teasing with no regret in his heart. Yet, he did not argue that his words were any better than what the king made them out to be.
“Stop teasing them, Éomer, dear,” you said through your smile. Your husband turned to you, his yellow hair shining in the light of the fire and making it look like polished gold. “Not everyone can write songs as well as you. What is it again that you wrote at Pelennor? “Out of the doubt, out of the dark with the sun’s rising. I came… ugh, Bema,” you stalled, thinking over the words. “Leofred, how did it go?” you asked your friend, your memory utterly defeated.
He smirked, more than ready to answer, “Out of doubt, out of dark to the day's rising. I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing,” he opened his mouth to continue, but Éomer cut him off with a gruff clearing of his throat and a look that would intimidate most of his men.
“If you know what is good for you, stop there,” Éomer warned. “Both of you,” he added, gently poking your side in the spot he knew would make you dissolve into laughter. “I know better than to tell my friend anything that my wife might mock me for,” he muttered. You let out a giggle at the ticklish feeling of his hand at your ribs, your breath leaving a white cloud hanging in the air. He laughed too as you squirmed and he pulled you to his side, tucking you in safely under his thick cloak that was lined in grey fur.
“I do not know which newlywed couple is more unbearable,” Estrild rolled her eyes, even as she grinned a little.
“Thank the Valar we were never like that,” Estrild noted.
“No, you were far worse,” Sunniva muttered, taking a long swig of her drink as she looked into the fire.
“We were not!” Estrild insisted, looking to her husband for confirmation, but he winced and she knew that her friend was right.
You felt warm fingers wrap around your icy ones. “Your hands are so cold,” Éomer hissed like a worried mother hen and brought your hands to his lips, huffing warm air onto them. The sensation made your skin tingle, but you did not pull away. Not when he was looking at you as if you were made of starlight.
“The food is done, my king,” Éothain said from across the fire, pulling everyone's attention away.
“Good man,” Éomer said, wrapping your warming hands into his and setting them on his leg. “Let us eat then.”
“Éothain, thank you for cooking the food, let another serve it,” Éowyn insisted.
“I do not mind, my lady,” Éothain insisted with a shrug.
“What a fine idea,” you nodded, getting up with Éowyn and pulling your hands out of Éomer's grasp, even as the cold set back into them.
Éothain backed away from the fire and roasting spit as Éowyn shooed him to go sit back down. You quickly gathered the plates and set about pulling the pot from the fire which held vegetables.
“Well, if the queen is working, then I would be a poor husband to sit idly by and watch,” Éomer nodded, standing up and pulling his cloak straight over his shoulders. “The fire is getting low, I will go find more fuel for it,” he announced and stepped over the small bench he had been sitting on.
“Do not wander too far,” you called worriedly, thinking of whatever leftover dregs of evil creatures that could still be lurking near the foot of the White Mountains.
“Yes, ma’am,” he called back with a proud tinge to his voice. He picked up a hatchet and carefully swung it over his shoulder before disappearing into the dark patch of woods.
“What is she worried over? Our king is the size of a bear and a war hero. I fear far more for whatever the man might stumble across,” Leofred teased, saying the joke to Faramir who laughed.
You cut him a nasty look. “I will fret if I see fit too. Bema knows how many situations you two have found yourselves in on the road. I did not complain then, and I will not now, but I have every reason to wish well for our king, and you would be a poor subject and poorer friend if you did not do so as well,” you corrected him. The slight smile playing on your lips told the group that you were not chastising your friend.
Estrild and Sunniva snickered at the retort, covering their mouths with their hands. “Of course, my queen. Forgive me,” Leofred said sincerely.
“I usually side with you, your grace, but I agree with Leofred on this one. My brother singlehandedly killed two oliphaunts at Pelennor Fields. I saw it with my own eyes. I trust he could face down the odd beast just fine on his own,” Éowyn said, a playful smirk on her lips.
“Éowyn!” you pretended to be offended. “I shall have you put in a cell as soon as we return home for this slight
“If he does not return, then I will put myself in one,” she amended.
The group laughed and cut up while you worked. Éowyn cut the meat as you prepared plates and delivered them to each of your companions, Éothain first.
By the time Éowyn was sitting back down with her food, Éomer was back with his arms full of dry sticks and cut logs of a felled tree his soldiers had found earlier in the day. You were relieved to have him back in your sights again. In moments like these, you were reminded of how dark the past days were and how anxiety for other’s wellbeing had become a constant companion to you.
“It seems you will not spend your first night back home in the dungeons after all,” you teased Éowyn.
Éomer’s forehead wrinkled in confusion as Éowyn barked a laugh. “Did Éowyn get into that much trouble while I was away?”
“Of a sort,” Faramir smiled knowingly.
You had just pulled out half of the spit from the hard ground with great exertion before Éomer’s return. Leofred offered to help you, but you had insisted on doing it yourself before accounting for the frozen ground. You were about to move to the other side when Éomer walked past the other half and, with little thought on the matter, pulled the iron spit out of the ground with a single, strong hand with ease.
Your eyes flew to his, even as your knees turned to jelly at the display of his strength.
“Thank you,” you murmured, standing up and pulling your cloak tightly around you so it did not get blown into the fire. “I was going to do that,” you uttered.
Éomer raised an amused eyebrow at your complaints, as he dropped the wood into a pile in the grass and bent down to add kindling to the fire. “And now you do not have to. Eat your supper,” he nodded to where Éowyn had set your plate. It was growing cold, so you relented and turned to go back to your seat.
The circle was mostly quiet as the people in it ate their suppers, thinking of the next night where they would get to feast like kings in the warm Hall of Meduseld. You looked forward to it as well, even though tonight was not so bad. Éomer sat back down at your side and his heat drew you in like a moth to a flickering flame. You tucked into his side, drawing from his warmth without words being exchanged. You both found your places beside each other as if it was practiced.
“I am afraid I will not last long upright if I stay up much longer,” Leofred admitted, breaking the comfortable silence as he put his empty plate down.
“Already?” Éomer asked, “the night is still young.”
“But I, my friend, am not,” Leofwine chuckled.
“Estrild, you will have to help your ailing husband to his cot before he keels over,” Éowyn teased.
Estrild placed her own empty plate down. “I am not much better for it,” she smiled, stretching her hands up into the night sky and standing with a hand from her husband.
“Goodnight,” you all called out to the retreating couple.
“I better go too,” Sunniva said, standing with stiff legs.
“I, as well,” Éothain nodded, shoveling the last of his food into his mouth.
“What? Why are our friends abandoning us?” you asked into the night.
“Perhaps they grow bored with us,” Éowyn agreed with you.
“That is not it,” Sunniva smiled at her two closest friends. “As if I could.”
“You will regret those words one day,” Faramir said, knowing how much trouble his wife and sister-in-law could get into.
“Never,” Sunniva doubled down as Éowyn elbowed Faramir for the insult.
“Goodnight,” you wished her and she said the same to you in return.
“Goodnight, your Grace, my King,” Éothain lowered his head to both you and Éomer in such a formal manner that you nearly laughed.
“Get out of here, Éothain. Sleep well, cousin,” Éomer chuckled, waving his uptight friend away. In the low light, you could see Éothain grinning lightly, a rare sight for the young man who had always been wound a little too tightly.
“That leaves just us then,” Faramir noted, taking a drink from his cup of ale.
“That leaves just you two,” Éomer corrected, standing and pulling you up with him.
“It does?” you asked, confused. You had wanted to stay a little longer.
“We have a long journey home tomorrow. We should all get our rest,” Éomer explained as he took your empty plate and stacked it with the others to be cleaned in the morning.
“You are a spoil sport, brother,” Éowyn complained.
“I am a soldier who has to be up at the rise of dawn,” he refuted.
“You are our King. You should sleep in as long as you wish,” you reminded him.
“Perhaps when we are old, but unlike Leofwine, we are not quite there yet,” he smiled, tugging you away to the largest tent covered in green and gold. “Goodnights” echoed in the darkness as they bade you a good night's rest and you did the same back to them.
“It is cold and growing colder still,” Éomer complained, holding the flap open for you to cross under. Even once you were inside the woolen tent, the frigid air still nipped at your skin. There were a few lanterns lit in the small space, giving the room a hazy glow. You were quick to peel off your cloak and your topdress, leaving a woolen tunic, your chemise, and various undergarments that you had stacked for warmth in this biting cold.
You paid no mind to Éomer who looked to be following a similar pattern, as you dove under the linens, wools, and furs that stacked the thin mattress afforded to the royal couple.
“Hurry,” you urged through chattering teeth.
“So impatient,” Éomer hummed, although you noticed the shaking of his hands and the way his jaw clenched to keep it from chattering.
“I am telling you to hurry, because someone placed a warming pan in the bed,” you laughed. “The chill is more than tolerable under here.”
Éomer’s eyebrows flew up and he quickened to shed his belt and topmost layer of clothes. He slipped under the covers and immediately sighed in relief.
“Thank the Valar,” he said under his breath, opening his arm to you and letting you burrow into his side. Your bones nearly melted at the feeling of finally being so warm and comfortable after hours of the growing cold.
“You should find out who gave us this gift and knight them,” you murmured into his shoulder, your eyes drifting closed at the cozy feeling overwhelming you.
“As soon as the sun rises, whatever they wish for is my command,” he promised, bringing his hand to your back and making soft circles with his thumb on your skin.
“I do not know who is luckier, us for getting warm, or them, who will get their wish granted over a simple warming pan.”
“Nothing simple about it, my love. This is worth all the coins in the treasury, to have you in my arms and warmth at my feet,” he said and you smiled, lips curling against his woolen shirt.
“Aye, nothing compares to this, at least not tonight. Ask me again under the warmth of the summer sun, and I might have a different answer,” you pointed out.
“By that time, you will be wishing desperately for a chip of ice and a fan to wave in your direction,” he teased.
“Do not even speak of ice or I will freeze all over again,” you muttered, “I can currently think of nothing I would want less.”
“Then sleep, wife,” Éomer urged. “Tomorrow we will be in front of the roaring hearths of Meduseld with barely a thought of the biting chill.”
“I can barely wait for it,” you sighted. You could hardly contain your excitement at the thought of cresting over the last hill on your steed and seeing the Golden Hall in all its glory. “Although, I did not mind the warmer climate of the south.”
“Aye, that is true,” Éomer nodded, his eyes growing heavy. “Autumn will be weeks yet away for the sparkling shores.”
You hummed in thought, the sunsoaked seaside sounding delightful to you. “In that case, I wish to go back to Gondor this very instant,” you teased, feeling a little delirious from sleeplessness.
Éomer’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter. “Of course. I will go where you lead, my Queen. Perhaps, when we get there, I will build you a cottage where we can live out the rest of our days avoiding winter and frolicking in the sand.”
You giggled at the thought of your husband building a sandcastle. “That sounds like a decent way for us to live out our days. Although… it is quite warm under here, maybe we should set off for the shore tomorrow instead.”
“I know that you jest, but know that Cook will likely skin us both if we do not attend the feast she has been planning since our departure.”
“Hmmm, good point. Upsetting that woman is not for the weak or the cowardly,” you mumbled, your words slurring. “Edoras it is then.”
“Edoras it is,” Éomer repeated fondly, noting the way your breathing slowly evened out.
Within moments, you would fade into a hardy and long sleep, safe in only arms that would never let go.
All fandoms taglist: @zzma-rs @lejardinfleur @kazgiena @belanekra @theselkieprincess @23victoria @wittiestrain184 @justpuretrash
Lord of the Rings Taglist: @th3realslimb1tch
