Eomer stood, amazed at the prospect of being a father. A boy, he rethinks, feeling a new sensation flow through him. Béma had blessed him well, allowing him the joys and responsibilities of fatherhood. He is called into the queen's chamber to meet his new son and the now exhausted queen. Lothiriel smiles at him, cradling a small bundle in her arms. Sweet jewel she is, he thinks, approaching the large four-poster bed. She hands him their child – their son. 'What name shall he be blessed with?' she asks, leaning against the large bundle of pillows.
'Elfwine,' he answers, whispering the name a second time. He turns his gaze to his queen; she nods with approval. The infant whimpers, snuggling closer to him. He kisses his son's forehead. Elfwine settles, sighing with contentment. Eomer smiles, sharing a fondly gaze with his wife. She has done her duty, he thinks, knowing a great burden has been lifted off her shoulders. He had watched her endure anxiety from the thought of a birthing a daughter. Daughter or son, Eomer would have been content with either. Such thoughts must now leave their mind, for a new jewel has been made and delivered safely into the House of Meduseld; a jewel of golden hair, sea-grey eyes, and a scrutinizing stare. Eomer chuckles, the stare turns to a frown. A king in the making, he thinks, feeling proud to have sired such a boy.
He is Eomer's bright star. It was the first thought that came to the young king's mind when he first laid eyes on his son. Elfwine was the star that shone at dawn, signalling the end of bitter darkness. He was his father's bright star, marking the end of the disturbance and wrath in the lands of the Mark.
What a future Rohan shall have.