[Published: 30.07.2020]

The King stared at the woman, dumbfounded. A thousand words crossed his mind, and he opened his mouth to speak. No words left his lips. He couldn't articulate what he felt. How he had felt. How the pain still lingered since that day. He clamped his jaw shut, grimacing.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. The woman bit her lip, shrugging. "I thought I'd stop by. See how you are,"

"How thoughtful of you,"

"Éomer, I know. I know. I shouldn't have left. Please, just let me--"

"Stop, (Y/N). You lost my favour when you put your own selfish endeavours above everything else!"

"Éomer, please!"

"Do you expect me to welcome you with open arms after what had happened? To smile and to forgive and forget!?"

"No, of course not! You have every right to be angry with me. But you can hardly expect this to be resolved if you keep arguing with me!"

"I don't want to talk this out! I don't want to see your face after what you pulled! Just leave!"

"You're never one to forgive, are you?"

"You're never one to admit when you're wrong. Now get out of my sight,"

"I'm not going anywhere,"

"Do you want me to make it official and banish you? Leave me,"

The woman nodded. "Your highness," she said, mockingly curtseying. (Y/N) then turned on her heels, and walked out of the hall. Éomer bit his tongue, irked by the encounter. Who was she to think she deserved forgiveness? He grimaced at the thought of it. After what had happened, he couldn't believe her audacity.

The day went on as usual, and Éomer tried his best to forget the encounter. His mind kept wandering to that look of disappointment (Y/N) had on her face. Guilt knawed away at him. Feelings began to reawaken. He rolled his eyes at this sentiment, disgusted by his own willingness to forgive. Why did he still value her?

(Y/N) clicked her tongue as she watched the sun set. She used to do such a thing when she was young, often accompanied by Éomer and Éowyn. Those blissful, childish nights were ones she couldn't forget. But now that she was alone, the sight felt ironic and rather condescending. Without Éomer to snuggle up to, the beauty of the moment had been lost. After all, what was the point of it if they could not share it?

Her heart ached at recalling Éomer. She had wanted to cry at the way he had looked at her. As if she were a monster. An enemy. As if he loathed her. She bit her quivering lip, stopping herself from unleashing her emotions. What was done was done. It was her fault. There was nothing else to be said. Her selfish endeavours had led her to this moment. If she'd opened her eyes and realised what she had, maybe all of this would have been avoided.

She covered her face in her hands. How could she have been so stupid? So blind to her own fortunate situation? To think, she thought she was proving something. Proving her worth. By doing so, she left everything she loved. She groaned into her hands, embarrassed by her own ridiculous behaviour.

The next day came and went. (Y/N) planned on leaving Rohan.

Éomer had spent the night contemplating the encounter. Lying in his bed, staring up at the white ceiling, as thoughts bounced around his head. He blushed, recalling the day (Y/N) revealed her feelings, and they began courting. He was shy in the beginning. Always flustered. Every time their lips met, he thought he was dreaming. Those months had been bliss.

It was one night she had declared she was going away. When he had asked why, she had replied vaguely. When he had pressed her further, she had said she needed to prove herself. Éomer tossed onto his side, biting down onto his tongue. He didn't know what she was trying to prove. When she left the next day, he had felt heartbroken. Betrayed.

He had wanted her to come back. Now that she was here, all he wanted to do was scream at her. He didn't know how he could still love her. How could he hold a place in his heart for someone who had abandoned him? Who had betrayed him? His mind and his heart were at war, and the headache that ensued kept his eyes open through the night.

"Éomer."

The king rose from his bed at a voice from behind his door. He groaned, head heavy with fatigue, before stumbling across his chambers to open the door. He was astonished to find (Y/N) there. He grimaced. "I thought I told you to get out of my sight,"

"I'm not one to follow the rules,"

"Clearly,"

"We need to talk,"

"No, we don't. You need to leave,"

"Then make it official and banish me,"

Éomer's gaze softened, her serious expression making him uneasy. He stepped to the side, allowing the woman in. (Y/N) trotted inside, before settling herself on the chair nead his dresser. The king shut the door, and sat at the foot of his bed. "Well? Talk then," he grumbled.

"You loathe me, don't you?"

"How did you guess?"

"Éomer. I don't want to make this into a fight. Just let me explain--"

"What's there to explain!?" he cried, standing. (Y/N)'s eyes flared with apprehension, as he towered over her. "The last I remembered, we had spent the night staring off onto the horizon, hands intertwined, without a care in the world! You had told me that you loved me! Then, a day passes and you're frantically telling me you need to leave. To go prove yourself. To prove to the world what (Y/N) is made of. You left your family. You left your friends. You left me. I was left wondering, did I drive her away? Wasn't I enough? Why couldn't she be contented with just me knowing her worth? Knowing what she was capable of? Or did the world need to know who you were?"

He didn't realise he was crying. Hot tears falling down his cheeks, as he watched (Y/N)'s eyes glaze over. He covered his face with a hand, turning away. Breathing heavily, he sat back down, wiping his tears. "I-I...I was selfish. Stupid. Insecure. I wanted to show people my talent wasn't in domestic matters, but with a sword,"

"But why then, (Y/N)? Why?"

"Éomer...did you...that day...did you plan to propose to me?"

His head shot up, and eyes widened. "What? I, we were young, I mean...we had only started our courtship, why would I--" he cut himself off. His heart ached at the implication. "You ran away because you thought I was going to propose?"

"No! But...it had somewhat of a reason to do with it,"

"...so you didn't want to marry me? Did you not love me?"

"Éomer! I love you. I wouldn't mind marrying you. But the circumstances were that, in that moment I didn't. Not because I didn't love you,"

"Then why!?"

"You were the nephew of the king. If I were to marry you, what would I be? Marriage nowadays, Éomer- especially for women- was equivalent to giving up your freedom. I was scared, Éomer. I did not want to belong to a man, even if it was you. I wanted to prove myself, to be my own individual. So I travelled," a smile crept up (Y/N)'s lips. "I've seen the elves of Mirkwood. Travelled to the White City. I've even seen the Hobbits of the Shire. I made a life of my own of the road. All by myself. Then I find myself on the journey home, in which I discover my old friend is now a king,"

"That was all I was? A friend?" he scoffed. "I thought you loved me,"

"I thought you loved me. You said to me once, that your heart would always be mine,"

"Yeah, well you say stupid things when you're young and in love,"

"Éomer," (Y/N) said. She got to her feet, slowly making her way over to him, and sat beside him on the bed. "Please, let us not continue to fight. I want this to be resolved,"

He turned. Their eyes met briefly. His breath hitched, before choking out his words. "When you left, it crushed me. I thought it was a miracle that you could love me. When you left, I thought it might've been about me. I guess...I guess I wasn't wrong, but...I can't. After all of it, I can't,"

"Éomer, I'm sorry," (Y/N) said. She reached over, stroking his cheek. "I'm so sorry, I was just...I was scared. I don't know why, I just...I just became scared. I know you'd never see me that way, but...but marriage to most women would be selling your freedom. Even if it was you--"

"I know your worth. You're as human as I, and I never want you to feel like that with me. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel lesser, but you're not. I wouldn't have restricted you, nor infringe you. I'm sorry you ever felt that way..." Éomer slid his fingers into the crook of her neck and pulled her closer. Their foreheads leant against each other, and he closed his eyes. "I wouldn't objectify you. You'd have kicked me up the arse for that." She laughed sadly.

"Éomer?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry. And..."

He waited for her to continue, but instead was met by her lips against his. He pulled away, shocked by the contact, before pressing his lips against hers once more. It was a short, sweet kiss that erupted butterflies in Éomer's stomach. The fondness and affection he felt ignited a youthfulness he hadn't experienced in years. As he pulled away from the kiss, he found himself unable to speak.

"I still...you know, Éomer,"

"(Y/N). I... just...as a king, would you... would you want to marry me?"

"Éomer, I don't--"

"I'm not asking you to be a wife. I'm asking you to be a Queen. Not mine. Not the world's. Just be a Queen in your own right, with your own freedoms, and have me as your King,"

"No. I want to be your Queen. My thoughts back then were not as they are now. I'm yours as you are mine,"