The Twelve Days of Tolkien - Drabble Series

On the seventh day of Christmas, my dear muse gave to me

Éomer and ‘Thiri

He saw her at dinner, raven locks spilling into the dessert. She spotted him at the dance, gravely hopping to a graceful tune.

He sought her out in the garden. Flattered, she peered shyly at him, discreetly wiping syrup from her hair. He asked her how she liked the food. She replied that it’d been fine, but she wished there had been lobster. She liked lobsters. He supposed he could afford them quite regularly. She giggled, thinking him very charming.

They kissed in the darkness, and did a great many things besides. Imrahil found them.

They wed the next spring.