A/N: I am not J. R. R. Tolkien. I wish to make no profit from this story.

Thank you diamondrose57 for reviewing! Truly made my day.

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"Now that we have the menu prepared, and the entertainment decided on, shall we look at the seating arrangements?" Eowyn asked Lothiriel as they walked down the freshly aired hall. Her engagement banquet had not been the only topic of conversation over the past week, but to Lothiriel it felt that it had dominated all other subjects unfairly.

"It actually should be fairly simple. All of the people coming are lesser nobility with in a rank or two of each other. The only question we need answer is how kind we are going to be to our brothers." Lothiriel replied with a slight smile.

"How kind we are going to be to our brothers?" Eowyn repeated, puzzled.

"Yes. You see, your brother is the real prize, but my brother, in all due modesty, also has royal blood and therefore will be much sought after too. We could be kind to them and seat them next to the fathers and brothers who are coming, or we could put them in a never-ending loop of different young ladies and watch the comedy unfold."

"That is a dilemma." Eowyn had a small smile on her face, which was becoming a more frequent sight.

"However, since we have more than two months left to decide, I would vote to wait and see how my brother behaves before I pronounce a decision one way or another."

"I believe that is a fair and just decision. We will let their conduct decide their fate." Eowyn agreed. Just then a slight breeze blew one of the lighter hanging tapestries across an open window. "It is time to close these windows," Eowyn decided. "The day's been fine so far, but there is rain expected later. We shouldn't press our luck."

Lothiriel nodded and began to close windows closest to her. Eowyn moved down the hall to close the ones farther off. When Lothiriel met up with her, Eowyn sat curled up close by an open window facing a door.

"I turned my back to the door." Eowyn explained in a soft voice. "I believe I can't quite do that yet."

"Oh." Comprehension dawned in Lothiriel's mind, and she quickly closed the window and sat down next to her friend.

Eowyn rested her head on her arms, which were wound up tight around her knees, as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. Her body shook slightly, and Lothiriel cast her mind about for a way to help her friend.

"Count with me." Lothiriel demanded suddenly.

"What?" Eowyn asked in a small voice.

"Count with me to twenty, in Western." Lothiriel's tone brooked no disagreement. "One, two, three..." Eowyn joined in and when they reached twenty, before Eowyn had a chance to think, Lothiriel demanded "Now in Rohirric."

They counted to twenty again, this time Lothiriel stumbled over the words, which made a ghost of a smile appear on Eowyn's face.

"Do you know any other languages to count in?" She asked when they were done.

Eowyn obliged, counting in a new language that Lothiriel had never heard before.

"What language was that? I've never heard it spoken."

"That's the language of the Wild Men, and it's about all I know of it. I have no idea if I pronounced any of it correctly, as I've never had formal lessons. Those are all the languages I know," Eowyn added, anticipating the next question.

"Will you teach me the numbers in the language of the Wild Men?" Lothiriel asked, excited.

"Now?" Eowyn turned her head on her arms to look at her friend.

"Are you otherwise occupied?" Lothiriel wanted to know.

"No, I suppose not." Lothiriel's memory was good, but as with Rohirric, her pronunciation was terrible.

"Here's my exchange." Lothiriel said when they were done. "mîn." Eowyn repeated the word. "tâd." Eowyn repeated again, stumbling slightly on the accent. By the time they reached twenty, Eowyn's head was up off her arms and she was entirely focused on remembering and speaking the words correctly.

"What language was that?" Eowyn repeated Lothiriel's question. "It is new to me."

"It is one of the Elvish tongues, Sindarin. Faramir is well versed in it, if you wish to learn more of it later."

"I may, it has a beautiful flow to it." Eowyn replied, considering the words she had just learned.

"Truly it does, but I think the way Rohirric rolls is just as fine. I cannot wait for the day I speak it better."

"You are already much better than you were a week ago. You have a very fine ear for languages."

"My tutors would be so proud to hear you say so." Lothiriel joked, drawing a smile from Eowyn.

They paused for a moment in comfortable silence. "Are you ready to move on?" Lothiriel asked after a little while.

"More than you know." Eowyn replied seriously, though her small smile held. "I need to leave here. I cannot keep having moments like this." She gestured to the door as she rose.

"Two months." Lothiriel stated. "Just two months, less when you consider that we will leave here in a month and two weeks. You can survive until then."

"Yes, I can." Eowyn agreed and they started to walk away from the door. "It is much easier having you here, I think."

"I am glad to hear that. You may change your mind when you hear my list of demands."

"A new saddle and some riding skirts, I believe you said. Hardly steep demands for the Rohirrum to fulfill. In fact, if we are not planning the seating arrangements now we might go to the stables now and see what you prefer in a saddle."

"Any saddle that is not mine is preferable."

"But there are so many decisions you must consider! We could spend half a day discussing how high the cantle should rise in the back, and how to match the seat and the seat rise to that lift. Then you have to decide on what type of leather to use on each part of the seat." Eowyn then started to delve in great detail about the different types of stirrups.

Lothiriel could feel herself getting lost in all the details that her friend was listing. "Stop, stop!" She exclaimed after a minute of listening. "I confess you have lost me! I swear I grew up in a saddle and yet to hear you speak I feel as new to riding as any child. I had no comprehension of how much you put into your saddles, I am ready to be advised by you."

Eowyn laughed, and Lothiriel almost stumbled, she was so surprised to hear the rare sound. "This will be more exciting than I thought it would be. Come my friend, let's puzzle together your saddle."

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They spent two hours talking with the stable master for advice, and then another hour looking at different parts of saddles before they had a rough sketch of what Lothiriel wanted in hers.

"I will look like a queen sitting in this saddle." She exclaimed to Eowyn. "Which is just as well, as I will need all of the help possible in order to convince my stable master to allow me to use it when I return home."

"Next we will need to size you for riding skirts so you can use your saddle when it is made. But that we will probably have to save for another afternoon." Eowyn replied, glancing at the sinking sun.

"What are you saving for another afternoon?" A new voice asked from the door of the stable. They turned to see Eomer and Amrothos returning from an afternoon ride. Eomer had called to them as he dismounted.

"Riding skirts," Eowyn retorted. "Any interest brother?"

"On females I think them lovely. For myself personally, I would rather wear nothing than subject myself to them." Eomer cheekily replied.

"Now that's an image I don't need to be thinking of," Eowyn murmured to Lothiriel, who covered her laugh with her hand.

"What do you think brother, my lord?" Lothiriel showed her brother the sketch of her saddle, and belatedly remembered to include Eomer King in her statement.

The two men pored over the page, Eomer most intently.

"I believe it to be a fine looking saddle," Amrothos conceded, after a short time. "But I'll leave it to the King of Rohan to pass his professional opinion before I say more."

Eomer was looking between the saddle and Lothiriel, and she felt her cheeks redden slightly under his assessing gaze.

"I agree," Eomer finally stated. "It is a fine looking saddle, and it seems to be practical for your needs, Lady Lothiriel." He smiled at her. "At least, more practical than the one you use now."

Lothiriel had to remind herself that ladies of Gondor do not groan or cover their faces in embarrassment, the way she might if she were at home in Dol Amroth. Instead, she smiled her sweetest, and said, "When this one is made I intend to make sure that my old one is put out of its misery." She paused; if it were one of her brothers she conversed with she would add a joke at the end to return the embarrassment she felt. As it was, with the King of Rohan, she felt it was not appropriate to sport with him.

"Perhaps the King of Rohan would like to keep it, Lothiriel, as a final test of courage for his Riders. For surely they cannot be scared off anything else if they are brave enough to ride sidesaddle." Amrothos gave the jest for her, and they shared a quick smile at it.

"Have you ever - " Eomer began, but was cut of by Amrothos.

"Once. Only once." Amrothos stated sadly, and shook his head at Eomer's roar of laughter. "I lost a bet, and I still hold that riding on that saddle was one of the bravest things I have ever done. There is truly no easy way to balance and do anything else."

"That is because you are not supposed to do anything else while you are in the saddle," Lothiriel reminded him. "The point of the saddle is to show off your legs, and to prove to potential husbands that you can ride from your house to court with out having to use a carriage."

"True enough." Amrothos agreed. "My Lady Eowyn, on behalf of all my family let me thank you for giving Lothiriel a proper saddle. As it is a gift from Rohan, our riding master will not be able to refuse her using it, and now we will not have to worry about her falling off every time we go on a hunt."

"Ah, see, there's the real reason for your thanks. I knew that it was self centered." Lothiriel joked after Eowyn accepted his thanks and started leading them towards the Great Hall. "'So you don't have to worry about me falling off...'" Lothiriel quipped. "I'll remember that when I bring down the first game on our next hunt, brother dear."

"You hunt, Lady Lothiriel?" Eomer asked.

"I do, my lord." Lothiriel replied. "We have not been on a real hunt in... years. I forget how long. I was asked to be a member of court you see, and Lord Denethor had little time to organize frivolous events, even ones that had the chance of bringing in provisions for the city. But I enjoyed it when I was allowed to be home and participate."

"Are you any good?" Eomer asked.

"I am neither good or bad, my lord. I hit father targets more regularly than many, but closer targets I am probably the same as most."

"Your elf eyes are what allow you to hit the farther targets." Amrothos teased.

"Eowyn, do you know that my brother had the gall to mention that I have elf eyes in front of the sons of Elrond the Wise?"

Amrothos laughed. "The looks on their faces were priceless."

"And you promised, brother, that you would stop using the phrase as it is neither true or respectful." Lothiriel drove the point home. "I do not have 'elf eyes.' I see well far away. You might just as well say I have 'Dunedain eyes,' for all that it is just as accurate."

Amrothos held up his hands in surrender. "I yield." He promised, and then stepped up, not too close, to Eowyn and began to ask her questions about her horse and saddle. Lothiriel watched them with a small smile.

"My lady?" Eomer questioningly addressed her gaze.

"I beg pardon, my lord." She shook herself out of her thoughts with a gentle toss of her head. "I was thinking of how far my brother has come, since our childhood. I am very proud of him."

"Ah." Eomer replied, thoughtfully. "I was pleased to hear that he would join you in your visit. I fear that the last time you were here we were rather poor hosts."

"That is not in the slightest true. It might be accurate to say that you had other matters on your mind more pressing than showing the country side to visitors."

Eomer inclined his head to acknowledge the statement. Lothiriel took a moment and then dutifully tried to start the conversation again. "It is a beautiful day, though Eowyn told me it promised rain earlier this morning. How are your farmers managing?"

Eomer paused in their walk to the Great Hall, and Lothiriel politely stopped next to him. "My lord?" She asked as he searched her face.

"Lady Lothiriel, my sister and your brother have both assured me that you have a sparkling personality and a riveting wit, yet around me our conversations are extensively banal. Do you find me so dull to talk to that you must only speak of mundane occurrences?"

"My lord, I..." Lothiriel trailed off, unsure how to escape the situation gracefully.

"Or is it that you, Imrahil's Daughter, are too afraid to have an honest conversation with me?"

Lothiriel's face flushed. Such boldness was unheard of in Gondor. "We did not meet well, my lord." She finally answered honestly. "I truly did not think you would want to have me as a guest again, and I thought that it would be best if you did not feel obligated to talk to me, when there is no need to recognize me at all."

Eomer considered her words. "The first time I recall meeting you was in the Houses of Healing, and you brought my sister her morning meal."

Lothiriel couldn't hide the surprise from her face, and he paused to indicate she should speak. "Do all in Rohan have an eidetic memory, my lord?"

"No," Eomer's lips twisted into an ironic smile. "Imrahil pointed you out to me that night at the dinner, and Aragorn mentioned that we already met you at the Houses."

"That makes more sense." Lothiriel agreed, they turned and started to walk on. "The first time we exchanged words was what I referred to."

"Eowyn never told me." The reply was so soft and filled with such a self-loathing that Lothiriel almost forgave him.

"She should not have needed to." Lothiriel retorted, then flinched. She should not have spoken so boldly, but Eomer was nodding his head in agreement.

The ironic smile was back as he acknowledged her surprise. "The Rohirrum do not allow themselves to hide from the truth, no matter how painful the subject." He sighed. "I should have taken better care of her. I would give much to go back and change the past to make it so."

Lothiriel nodded. "She is much better now."

"Not because of me, but thanks to Faramir... and you." He smiled down at her, though the smile was sad. "Your letters were a high point of any week. I cannot thank you enough for traveling here to help her prepare."

"My lord is too kind." Lothiriel murmured.

"Might we declare a truce?" He asked her.

"My lord?"

"Your brother is my friend, my sister is yours. I think we might be able to talk about more than the weather, particularly as your brother has directed me to you for any further questions about the new arrow fletching."

Lothiriel laughed. "Your desire to befriend me is mercenary then!" She exclaimed. "You wish for my knowledge, not for friendship!"

Eomer smiled truly. "I wish for both. Truce? You will no longer worry that I hold it against you for speaking the truth?"

"Truce, my lord." She agreed, and held out her hand. Eomer looked at her strangely. "It's how they end agreements in Gondor. You shake hands." Eomer took her hand in his, and she moved their joint hands up and down while squeezing slightly, then let go. He looked at her in puzzlement. Interpreting the look she explained, "You have to squeeze slightly, or else you are judged as unmanly, or so my brothers tell me. What?" She couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Your brother has never told me anything of the sort."

Her forehead puckered in thought. "Probably because he thought you already knew. He meant no offense, I'm sure."

Eomer shook his head at her misunderstanding. "I am equally certain he meant no offense. I was just realizing that your friendship might be as useful to me as it is to my sister."

Lothiriel blushed at the compliment. "It will certainly be useful when you have horse buyers come and visit." Eomer nodded his agreement. "Do you..." she hesitated, and then continued slowly as if choosing her words with care. "Do you have enough horses to sell to us in Gondor?" Her words then flowed out in an anxious rush. "I know that King Elessar was insistent on allowing our nobles to purchase from you, and I know that it will be good for the economy both here and in Gondor, but Faramir told me that Boromir had written that you were hard hit by the early skirmishes, horses in particular..." She realized she was babbling, and stopped herself short. To her amazement, Eomer was smiling.

"You can talk about more than the weather then!" He exclaimed with a teasing note, causing Lothiriel to blush deeply. "While it is true that we do not have the horses to spare that we normally would, we certainly have enough to start trading this year, and open up paths for years to come. It won't be as fine of a selection to barter with, but given what I saw of the horses in Minas Tireth, it should start to improve the quality found there." He paused. "I did tell your father to come next year, as we have a few yearlings that would do well for him."

"I'd be interested in looking them over, if there is time." She amended, thinking of all she had promised to do.

Eomer raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you always look over horses for your father?"

"Not for my father, no, but for me." Lothiriel replied evenly, refusing to rise to his bait. "I have a… special line of horses that I care for. Mirime is but the newest in that line. It's almost time for her to foal, indeed I promised her to find a suitable mount when we return. But my father suggested that I look at the horses here, as I was already planning this visit, though I understand the bartering system is different."

"It is indeed. Perhaps in the next few days you might do me the honor of introducing me to your filly. I could make some suggestions based on what temperaments you're looking to foster."

Lothiriel stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Great Hall. Eomer turned when he realized that she was not beside him, and looked down at her. "You look shocked, Lady Lothiriel. What have I said now?"

Lothiriel scrambled to think of how to explain. "My lord, Eomer King, I… you are too generous with your time. I can think of no greater honor than having my horse looked over by the King of the Riders of Rohan, I am truly humbled by your generosity."

Eomer frowned slightly. It was just an offer to look at a horse, at least that was all he thought he offered. Perhaps it meant something different to her, he would have to ask Amrothos if it meant something else than a friendly gesture in Gondor. "It is nothing," he said eventually. "I would like to thank you for visiting Eowyn." He gestured, clearly desiring to go into the Hall and have his meal.

Lothiriel smiled up at him. "It's not 'nothing' to me. Thank you." She added, as she joined him and walked into the Great Hall together.

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A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! Moving is tough, and I was really looking forward to finding a quiet spot with internet to post this next chapter, and here it is. The next chapter will certainly be up by July 1st, but I am to have it up much sooner than that.

If you have any questions, comments, concerts, etc., please let me know - I would love to hear from you!