N: As I always say…I have a kajillon fics on the go at any given time but it's very hard for me to resist a plot bunny when one takes up residence in the back of my brain. To be honestly, most of the time these plot bunnies are as a cause of very good-looking men but hey, whatever right?

I've been watching a great deal of LOTR lately and in the process of doing so have been drooling over Eomer quite a bit and got inspired because of this. For those of you receiving this alert who are following me because of my SPN fic, don't worry…I haven't abandoned it and an update is coming in the next couple of days, I just needed to get this started or I was going to be driven INSANE by having all these little snippets of this idea nag at me in my head. I absolutely HAD to start to write it to get it out of me so be patient.

For the sake of my fic this is mostly movie based though there will be some parts drawn from the books. It is an Eomer / OC fic so if you don't like non cannon pairings please avoid because I really don't want to have to deal with flames regarding canon issues. My OC's can be a bit Sueish at times but at the very least I try to keep the writing decent to good so hopefully that makes up for it.

Don't like the story, don't read…that simple.

I appreciate reviews and constructive criticism always.

Oh, and unfortunately I do not own anything/anyone recognizable from LOTR…I wish I did…. believe me I wish I did. I own but my poor little OC (Araariel) and several others along the way.

Guess that's it.)

Some Things Unexpected

a LOTR fanfiction by

tigerfeet

Prologue:

War was on the horizon; that much was clear to anyone who had half their wits about them. Even were there not talk of a council called in the house of the elf lord Elrond, even without having known of the attacks on the provinces of Gondor, and even without having known of the storm and the threat growing in the cursed land of Mordor, it was all but as clear as day that but in a short time full blown war would be waged across the free lands of Middle Earth. Bands of Orcs and even fouler creatures traveled boldly in the open, setting out to lay siege on unsuspecting cities and villages, men of the east were flocking to take up with Sauron and Saruman's forces alike.

War was on the horizon, that much was for certain. It was only a matter of time and all that was left to do now was prepare and cling to some small ray of hope that permeated the darkness of an otherwise hopeless conflict looming heavy in everyone's thoughts.

Eomer and his Eored had been in at large just over a fortnight, striking down a band of Orcs every other night, sometimes two if fortune shone upon them. The loathsome creatures were routinely passing closer and closer to the domains of Rohan and Eomer was not about to allow them to reap death and destruction on his countrymen. He had been forced to witness the slow decline of his uncle at the hand of Grima Wormtongue and if he could do nothing yet to prevent the subtleties of the attack against his own kin, he would at least protect his people with all he had.

It was on the seventeenth night at roam, after the company lost count of the number of Orcs they had slaughtered, that the men found something that they did not quite expect.

They had wrought by their standards a magnificent battle against a small band of creatures just at the border of Rohan through the outskirts of Fangorn Forest. The land was still and the woods littered with corpses; the thrill of victory instilled a renewed sense of energy and excitement in the men and Eomer fought to reign them in and restore a small semblance of order, there was work to be done yet and little time to do it before the breaking of dawn.

"Start gathering the bodies!" He barked, moving Firefoot over the terrain and around the fallen Orcs. "We pile the carcasses and set them alight come dawn! A swift message will be sent! Any fell beast that dare enter our borders will find a fast death be it by blade, spear, or bow! Neither Sauron nor Saruman will claim these lands so easily no matter what form their servants take! We will cut them down as they come and show no mercy."

He pulled up his mount and swiftly swung from the horse's back, setting about his own business of seeking out any lingering Orc cowards taken shelter in the near by underbrush in an effort to ensure none were left to draw breath and raise alarm to any following parties for if there was any cowardly filth about, the underbrush in Fangorn would serve their purposes well and keep them well hidden if not thoroughly scouted. He had only just begun his search when his attention was suddenly jarred from its task.

"My Lord Eomer!" A young rider called Amleth called from just beyond a slight abutment where in the trees were tangled with a large mound of earth and rock. "Something peculiar rests just head…I do not think it is Orcish!"

"Bring it down on account!" Eomer shouted in reply as he regained his focus. "We leave none alive!"

"A woman! My Lord a woman!" Another rider called frantically. "Over here! Come quickly!"

Eomer's head jerked upwards, brow furrowed slightly at the announcement as he made his way towards the discovery. There were few who dared travel the passages of Fangorn alone, let alone come night fall come the best of times; what business would anyone have of making the journey through the woodland during times of growing unrest when even the safest areas of Middle Earth were far from such.

Never the less, the minute details of the situation were not important at that moment as upon moving around the great mound of earth and rock, Eomer took note of the scene before him. There on the ground, wounded and unconscious lay a lone female traveler clad in dark colored, and now muddied cloak and garb, crumpled in an awkward heap half on her side with her back towards him.

Taking a knee gently rolled her towards himself so as to get a better. Her already porcelain complexion had started to grey slightly and she was quite cool to the touch, but still a little lingering warmth and the faint swell and fall of her chest told there was life in her yet. Her head was bloodied at the temple, matting dark hair sticky to her scalp and betraying fine and elegant features with jarring rivulets of crimson that trailed downwards from the wound.

"Her arm is broken." Amleth dropped to his haunches now too, gently lifting the contorted limb from the ground. "What has happened here?"

"An ambush perhaps. " Eomer replied, continuing his inspection of the maiden, trailing his fingers lightly over a shallow slashed laceration across the corner of her upper lip. "They must have come upon here just before we on them."

"She is too dark of hair to be of us." Amleth offered. "From Dunland?"

He shook his head. "More likely from Gondor I should think."

"But where is her traveling party? And what purpose has she here?"

"None can tell…but she cannot stay as she lay."

"You mean to carry her to Gondor then?" Amleth arched a brow.

"She may not last that journey. She is cold and wet…a fever will no doubt take hold of her before long." Eomer snatched a heavy woolen blanket tethered to the pack of a near by horse and wrapped it gently about the wounded stranger before slipping his arms beneath the wounded stranger and plucking her swiftly from the ground. Cradling her weight gently against his chest he moved back towards Firefoot, carefully lifting the girl upon his back before taking mount behind her in the saddle. "We will ride her to Edoras and hope that she makes the journey there."

Amleth nodded and lent a hand in mustering the men as Eomer began to move off.

"Right, you heard him! Leave the Orc filth…we make for Edoras at once!"