‘I am going to marry a woman of the Dúnedain,’ Éomer thought idly as he sat in his study ‘what will Lothíriel think of my country? They have grand houses of stone and big libraries full of ancient lore, while ours are made of wood and all lore we posses are our songs. They can write and speak several languages.’ The king of Rohan sighed. ‘And they live so incredibly long lives! She will surely outlive me and watch while I wither and fall from my high seat unmanned and witless.’ Éomer grumbled in frustration.
Suddenly his eyes lit up and he exclaimed “Pa, what was I thinking? They do have their dead stone, that they can keep! But what of their spirit? They burry themselves in their past while we go singing into battle on proud steeds!
When his queen came, he would show her what it meant to live.
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I borrowed Elessar's phrase. He won't need it for some years yet.
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