Faramir dug his heel into the horse's side. It threw up its head, whinnied, and took off at a great speed. He was holding onto the reigns, with Lirah sitting in front of him.

They rode on and on it seemed. He urged the horse to go faster as the countryside whipped past. Over the hills, and past the snow capped mountains they rode. She would be safe in Rohan. Eomer was an ally of the king's of course and would not lightly risk that alliance. But before he had left Arwen had written a letter explaining everything. Eomer would understand, and he would keep Lirah away from Aragorn.

Arwen had told Faramir as he was leaving that she did not know what the king of Gondor had in mind for his daughter, but just as a precaution she believed it would be better if they were in separate countries, so that there would be no more conflict.

And she did not want to lose her child ever again. She wrote to Eomer that she would much appreciate it if he ensured that Lirah stayed in Rohan.

Faramir thought of all this as he held Lirah upright on the horse. She had long since lost consciousness. Eomer would do as Arwen asked, of course, and keep it secret and from becoming known to Aragorn that Lirah had a home in the court in Edoras.

Eomer sat upon his thrown, the court of the golden hall merry and alive. A man came in and said "My king, Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor is here. He requests a private audience with you."

"Show him to my rooms, I'll be there momentarily."

Eomer then made his excuses to the members of his court and left the hall.

When he reached his rooms, Eomer found his brother-in-law standing beside a chair. In the chair lay an unconscious woman.

"What is this?"

"The Queen of Gondor has requested that you keep her safe and keep her here."

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Lirah, she is…an elven princess, and under the protection of the queen." He handed Eomer a folded piece of paper. "It explains it all in there."

Faramir began to walk out the door.

"Where are you going? I do not know this woman, I do not know if I can keep her here. What is it that she needs protection from anyway? What has she done?"

Faramir stopped. "I must get back as soon as I can, else my presence may be missed. No one can know I was here, or who she is. Especially not Lord Aragorn. Keep it a secret that she is here, keep her here, and keep her safe. The queen's reasons are all explained in her letter. I must be off now."

"Faramir!" called Eomer.

He had already left.

The king of Rohan looked at the girl. She resembled Arwen. Beautiful in every aspect, she had the pure look of an elf down to both her pointed ears.

There was a table with some chairs in the room. Turning from the girl, he walked to the table and sat down, opening the letter.

As he began to read, his eyes widened. HE turned around and looked at the girl. "Left to die by your own father?" he whispered incredulously.

He would protect the girl as the queen asked, and keep her safely and secretly in his land.

Getting up, he tucked the letter in his breast. He picked up the girl off the chair and carried her out of the room.

One of his hands suddenly felt wet. Looking down he saw that the girl's side was red. "Blood!" he cried. Quickly he carried her down a hallway and into a vacant courtier room.

Lirah blinked a few times as she looked around. She was lying in a comfortable bed, in a room with wooden walls, with gold paint. The bedding was green, with a border of red and yellow.

She tried to sit up. A searing pain shot through her side.

"I can't believe I forgot about that!" she laughed grimly to herself. "I wonder where I am though."

She remembered speaking to her mother, and she remembered the elf knocking her over. And then Faramir came, and Arwen was saying something to him, and after that everything went black.

Someone knocked on the door.

Lirah looked down at herself to see if she was decently dressed. "Come in, please," she called after observing that she was.

It was a man she'd never seen before. He was fair, with green eyes, and a blonde moustache and goatee to match his long hair. He stood tall and proud, with the armor of a great warlord.

He bowed slightly. "I am King Eomer of Rohan."

"Then I am in…Edoras, your majesty?"

"Yes. I was asked to keep you here. Lord Faramir brought you. It was asked that your identity be kept a secret, so as not to alert the king of Gondor to your whereabouts."

"Oh, I understand. I do not think he would care that I am here though."

Eomer responded in his deep voice, "That may be so, but I will keep your identity quiet nonetheless."

"Do you happen to know how long it will be before the wound in my side heals?" she asked, as she had just moved a little and was hit immediately with pain. "I received the injury a week ago, and it should be healed a little by now."

"I'm afraid that it must have reopened when you journeyed here. We had to have a doctor see you right away, and he's bandaged it, but you will have to wait at least 3 weeks this time before going anywhere."

Lirah assumed that he meant she would be allowed to leave Rohan in three weeks, so she did not object. In truth Eomer meant that Lirah would have to stay in bed for three weeks, until the doctor was sure that she was fully healed.

"Is there anything else you need? You will have a maid to attend on you while you are recovering. And if you wish it I shall visit you as often as I can so that you may have company. Clothes will be provided for you, as you did not come with any of your own. Is there anything else that you wish?"

Lirah looked up at the tall, broad shouldered man. "No, king. There is nothing else I need. You have been most kind." And then, in a much softer voice, she whispered, "Thank you."

Eomer nodded his head, and turning, walked out the door.

Later that day, an older woman came to wait on Lirah. She brought with her food, and bolts of material. Lirah would have the new dresses made for her when she was well enough to get out of bed. The food sent was roast chicken, a hunk of white bread, cheese, and ale. Lirah would have preferred water over ale, but she did not complain.

Her room even had a window, right next to her bed. It looked out at the open plains surrounding Edoras, and the mountains beyond those.

She felt different Rohan than she had in Gondor. She liked the feeling of the place better.

Gondor's palace and city of stone, Minas Tirith, had been built into the stone of the mountain and possessed the beauty, pride, and power of men. Many people believed it to be magnificent.

It was incredibly beautiful, Lirah could not lie and say that it wasn't. Yet, Gondor lacked the warmth of Rohan. Its stone walls could not match the simple beauty of the wooden hall of Eomer.

Lirah looked out the window, staring out over the plains, and to the ice capped mountains.

Eomer was distracted through out the rest of the day. His thoughts kept wandering back to the woman lying in bed, her face steady and controlled, even though he knew it must have been agony every time she moved. His thoughts went to the letter from Arwen hidden beneath his breast plate.

Some one laughed loudly. The king snapped back to attention. The members of his court were dancing. He smiled at the women who he knew purposely danced in front of his throne. He ordered a mug of ale be brought to him.

As he sipped it, his mind slipped back to the girl.

He would think of a story, and a name for her; that she might join the members of his court and the truth of who she was would not get back to Aragorn.

He was greatly risking the bond that had existed between Rohan and Gondor for half a millennia by hiding the man's daughter. But he could not refuse her refuge. Not when he knew she deserved it. Plus, he didn't think he'd mind having her there, she seemed polite and intelligent, and she certainly was beautiful.

Lirah's maid was helping her to sit up slowly, so that she might eat her supper. She really had no appetite, but the woman said she must eat anyway. The meal was cold ham, beef stew, some bread, and ale. She would have to remind the woman to ask for water from then on.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The maid opened it.

King Eomer was standing in the doorway. Lirah noticed that he was so tall his hair brushed the top of the doorway.

"I was wondering if I might take my meal with you. I have little humor for the company of my court, and wanted a quiet supper."

"Of course, my lord."

The maid helped her out of bed, for she refused to have supper with the king while laying down. Once she was out of bed, Eomer held out his elbow and allowing her to lean on him for support, led her to the table.

A second meal had been brought for him. The maid had vanished, and it was just the two of them.

"So how do you find everything?" he asked, in his deep voice.

"Everything is wonderful. You have gone to too much trouble I fear. When I was in Gondor, it was nothing like this."

"I would imagine so," he responded. "Do not misunderstand me, Minas Tirith is both grand and beautiful, but it has a certain…"

"…coldness to it?" Lirah finished for him.

Eomer's eyes widened in surprise. "Exactly!"

"Yes, my Lord. I felt the difference almost immediately. Even from confinement of this room I could tell that Edoras has a certain warmth and simple beauty that Minas Tirith will never have."

"You see well, Lirah."

They were silent for a while as they ate. Eomer was strong and silent, and Lirah could feel how powerful and willful he must have been. But with all that, she could also feel warmth, and tenderness in his person.

"My lord," she said, breaking the silence. "Is it hard being king?"

He looked up in amused surprise. Lirah felt her cheeks take on a little bit of color "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so prying with my question."

"No, it's quite alright. I don't mind at all. And to answer you, yes it is. Perhaps it's because I was not raised to be king. I was raised as a warrior, not a king. I never expected to sit upon the thrown. It is…a great responsibility. You can feel the pressure to ensure the well being of your people. Not that I didn't feel it before, but now it's different. I have no choice in the matter now. I chose to ride around and defend my people, but now the responsibility of making decisions that could influence every person under my rule, down to the last baby, is pushing down on me.

"I will gladly be king though, if I may help and protect the people."

"I suppose if being king were an easy job, anyone could do it," replied Lirah.

After that they were silent again for the rest of supper.

Once they had finished eating, Eomer stood. He then took Lirah's hand, thanked her for her company and left.

The maid was back within five seconds.

She assisted Lirah back to her bed, but not before helping her change. The old woman put a white night gown on her charge, figuring she was up anyway and the dress she had been wearing for a few days could do with a wash.

Then Lirah got back into bed, and slept.

From then on, Eomer had dinner with her every evening. Occasionally he would take his breakfast with her also. She was not always awake though, so most of the time he didn't.

Rumors began to circulate throughout the court that the king was courting someone, although no one knew who.

When they ate supper, they sometimes spoke, and sometimes sat and ate in silence. Occasionally they joked, and laughed, but it was a rare thing. Each thought the other must have been incredibly bored with their company, but both appreciated that there was not always a demand to be sociable.

Plus, neither of them discussed anything personal. Lirah knew that Eomer knew her story, and Eomer knew that Lirah knew he knew. And the knowing of who knew who knew went on forever. Yet, they spoke of none of it, as though none of it had ever happened. And yet, it was not dull small talk either.

After a week, Lirah could slowly get out of bed, without her maid's assistance. She could change her dress also. She had not had her own dresses made yet, as she was still too tired to stand while they measured her, and pieced the dresses together. She wore borrowed dresses, and they fit all right.

The gossip of the court also became definite after that first week. The king had not eaten supper with the rest of the court that whole week. The rumors were that he was having his dinners privately with a woman. She had to be one of the courtiers, but no one could figure out which one. He never showed any special interest in any of the women.

After the second week, Lirah was able to get out of bed, and have her dresses fitted and sewn. She also dined three out of four of the nights that week in the King's private rooms, rather than her own room.

One day, she walked into the king's privy chamber, and he actually felt his breath catch.

She was wearing a new dress. It was blood red, with gold trim, and it flowed and moved gracefully as she walked. Her chestnut hair was plaited with matching gold, and piled on top of her head.

She bowed her head and murmured, "My Lord Eomer."

He put his hand across his waist and bowed his torso. "Princess, please sit and make yourself comfortable."

"I do believe you've never called me princess before."

"Oh, does it make you uncomfortable? I rather think of you as a princess, since you are one by blood. Besides that, you carry yourself as a princess."

"I don't mind, my lord. You may call me what ever you wish."

Lirah looked at the meal set out for them.

"Water!"

"Yes, I'm sorry you haven't received any with your meals up until now. I was not informed that you wished it, and you never said anything to me."

"Oh! I did not mean to be a trouble, King Eomer. I mentioned it to my maid a few times, but I think she forgot. Thank you for providing it for me."

Eomer smiled. "She mentioned it to me today, so I had them send us water along with the ale. It was no trouble. It is our wish that you are comfortable here."

"I do love it here. It is warm and welcoming. I have not even left the hall yet. I should like to ride out once I have recovered. The view from my window is teasing. Rohan seems such a beautiful country, and I want to see every inch of it."

The king felt happiness when he saw in her eyes the same love for his country that he felt for it. It was as though she understood him, with out either of them having to explain themselves to each other.

"I shall be sad to leave this place."

Eomer, who had just taken a bite of cheese, felt his whole body tense and his head snap up. "Leave?" he asked cautiously.

Lirah immediately noticed his reaction. "Well…yes. I cannot stay here forever. I have business to attend to. I was planning on leaving as soon as I had completely healed." Her voice had become just as cautious as his, her face unsure.

Eomer stared at her in disbelief. He set down the hunk of bread that he had been holding, and took up his mug of ale; taking a long swig from it. He looked over her face, taking in her hesitant expression.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, you're not leaving."

Lirah's face changed. As had Eomer's. They were both set, determined, stubborn.

"Why not?"

"You are not leaving. Your mother requested that I keep you safe, and that I make sure you stay here. You're not leaving."

"I don't care what my mother requested. I am not a child. Of course I appreciate all that you've done for me while I've been ill, but I am sorry, I will leave Rohan. I have my own business to attend to."

Suddenly, Lirah stood up. She winced, the pain in her side not completely gone. "If you'll excuse me, your majesty."

Eomer jumped up, pushing his chair back so quickly that it flew a couple feet.

"Don't think you're going anywhere. You are residing in the land under my rule, and you shall not leave unless I give you permission." His voice was low, almost threatening. He had leaned forward and put his hands on the table.

Lirah slowly raised her chin in the air before saying, "I have my life to live, king, and I cannot stay here. There's nothing you can do to stop me leaving."

Eomer's face darkened. He stood straight, and shoved the wooden table aside so that it fell to the ground and the food crashed and splattered all over the floor. He stepped forward and stood so that he was up against Lirah, his face only an inch or two from hers. When she tried to back away, he took her arms in his hands, and held her steady.

"What do you have to go back to? Your father tried to bring about your death twice already, and both times he's been nearly successful. Your mother didn't even know you were alive, and now that she does she doesn't come to see you even though you had a potentially mortal wound. No one loves you, you have no one who cares for you or misses you and wants you back. If you leave, where would you go? Who would take you in? You're alone in this world, with nothing and no one."

Eomer kept his grip on Lirah. Looking at her face, he saw that the defiant look was rather frozen on it.

She inhaled sharply. Tears began silently streaming down her cheeks.

For a moment the two of them stood there like that, Eomer, with his intimidating face staring down at Lirah; whose own face was looking towards his chest, but she was not really seeing anything.

And then Lirah's eyes snapped back into focus. She looked up at Eomer oddly. Then she pulled herself from his grip, backed up, turned around, and walked out the door.

Eomer shook his head, and retired to his own bed chamber, to keep himself from going after her.