Disclaimer: see prologue

A/N: Brothers are good for a number of things: one of them being to send after exes that fucked up badly. Thank you to Mr. G for doing that for me, it made me feel loved and spawned this new chapter. Hope you enjoy.- Sephora (Trainee Secretary, Wakabe Writing Firm)

Eowyn stared out her window, arms too wiry to be attractive crossed over a chest too small. She is only fifteen years old, but it's not old enough. She has not yet crossed that magical boundary that truly exists between girl and woman, and in this transition stage, she hates every moment of it. She hates the way her face rebels against the smooth skin of youth, how her arms no longer fitting into the sleeves her older, prettier dresses that her uncle had commissioned for evenings when they entertained special guests. But most of all, she hates how she is not, in that moment, deemed pretty enough to be taken seriously when she asks for a dance.

There are few women in the Halls of Meduseulde, fewer than there have been in many years, when shield maidens were in abundance, when the ideas of other places had not perpetrated the idea that women belong home, not fighting alongside brothers and fathers, husbands and cousins that were held dear. And every moment that passed, as Eowyn honed her skills, knowing there would never be a chance for her to show her brethren that a woman was more than capable as fighters, her flame of passion grew smaller, but more intense, as she was forced to focus her intent.

But Eowyn was still a woman, no matter how young she was. She wanted to be able to still dance with a man and have his hands respectfully above her waist, to look at her like Papa used to look at Mama. She wanted to know that when a man asked her of a dance, it was not for some illicit affair that would leave her bed empty and the halls filled with whispers, like some of the girls. She desired a man that would do right by her, fight with her, not for her, and still look at her like something precious.

She thought she had found that with one of the younger members of the Riders of Rohan.

Leofdaeg, son of Leofric, was one of the newest additions to the Rhohirrim, part of the Fifth Mark. He was a few years older than her, newly arrived into adulthood at the age of 20. Darker blond hair spilling onto shoulders broad from long hours training, he stood at an impressive six foot two. He had a loud laugh, one that spoke of strength and real joy. It was not hallow like some of the others, whose laughs boomed only drunk and able to drown their worries in their pints. More than that, Eowyn hadn't seen any friends or romantic interests. He was unmarried. He had shown an interest in Eowyn. He had even asked her to a dance! Twice in a night!

In the past few days, however, it seemed that it was not true. Lately, he had asked her to dance as often, sometimes forgoing dancing completely in favor of drinking away with his comrades. His gaze still lingered on her, but she was no longer the only one he sought. Indeed, it seemed that she was far from the only one to be seen with him, if the whispers of some of the other girls were to be believed.

All of this did not bode well with young Eowyn.

Determined to find out the reason for this, she made sure that when he came to the Halls after a month long patrol that she was there, serving as hostess with her uncle once more. Dressed in one of her more elegant emerald gowns, though still not her favorite white one from just last year that she'd most unfortunately outgrown, she made sure that she was as presentable as possible.

She had waited for the ending of the gathering, when most of the men were lacquered enough to not remember the last half of the evening. Making her way swiftly across the Halls, she sought him out, wanting to know what it was that he was doing, if he even knew.

She wanted to talk to him in privacy, knowing that her brother was busy. But it seemed like fate was against her that night, as she flew through the hall, finding no trace of him. Insecurity and dread battled hope in her stomach made her body its battle field in the two minutes it took for her to get to the outside, where she hoped the cool night air would help soothe her nerves. She'd chosen the back, knowing that the front gave the rest of Rohan a good viewing, and knowing that it would be empty.

But it seemed that she was not alone, because there were not one but two people there. And there, in the back of her home, was where he broke her heart.

Eomer wasn't as much a fool as his sister seemed to take him for. He'd seen her and Leofdaeg leave the halls together that night. He'd also noted that neither had bothered to return to the celebration. And while a large part of him wanted to go and see what was going on between them, he wasn't able to escape his uncle long enough to go check on his sister.

Not that it mattered, apparently, seeing as no virtue had been disturbed, just a heart rent.

He was outside his sister's room, the door open as he watched her consider the mirror before her. Her eyes, though not dry, had yet to allow the tears that he knew to be building there fall. She was studying herself, dissecting every flaw that she perceived to be the cause of some greater part in the ending of her dalliance with Leofdaeg, instead of the new interest that he had found in the form of women in general. She ran her fingers, strong with callouses from keeping up her sword fighting and riding, run down arms clothed in the deep blue of one of her more worn dresses. She shifted, bending and contorting her body in order to push forth the parts of herself that she hated, so that the mirror before her would showcase everything she hated.

Eomer pushed himself off the door, no longer able to stand the voluntary torture his sister put herself through. "You look wonderful, sister."

She didn't jump, not noticeably, but he could tell that she'd not known that he was there. Still, she met his eyes through the mirror, replying, "If you say."

"I do say." He came to stand right behind her, eyes not ignorant of pimples and redness. He took in the way she held her body, slouched and caved as though to shield her still growing body from any harsh judgment. "And I know it to be true."

She smiled at him through the mirror, still not facing him directly.

"So why the tears?" Her face shut down. Eomer would have cursed aloud if he hadn't bit his tongue for his stupid mistake.

"I'm not crying." He heard the wall in her voice, cold and abrupt. She was closing him off, not wanting pity or any kindness borne of it. Her suffering was her own, but that didn't that Eomer would let her suffer without some form of compensation. As it was, the flinch that came at his next statement gave him more than enough reason to go flay Leofdaeg.

"So tell me why your eyes are red."

Eomer did not go after the damn bastard that hadn't the honor or restraint to keep to one woman. He did not race from his sister's room after spending twenty minutes cajoling answers from the closest family member he still had. He did not go down to the stalls where Leofdaeg was tending to his horse and slug his across the face that developed into a full out brawl. And he most certainly did not leave Leofdaeg with a black eye, bloodied lips, a broken nose, bruises all over his body, teeth marks in his arm, and scratches that drew blood down his right cheek.

And anyone who said otherwise would quickly be quieted with a glare and a silent promise of retaliation if they did not stop.

Even if he did somehow end up on mucking duty for a month, it did not matter. And in truth he was not done with his not-fight with Leofdaeg. No, he was far from done. But he would not bring to light the transgressions Leofdaeg had done to his sister, least she become even more reluctant to confide in him. No, his revenge would come much later, when he would remark off handedly to Leofdaeg's captain about how his sword skills seemed to be lacking, and how it would make sense that he should be put with some of the more heavy handed and ruthless sword masters who happened to owe Eomer a favor. The twitching that happened shortly after said lessons were just a benefit to Eomer being a good brother and making sure that Leofdaeg thought twice about coming near his sister again.

I know that this chapter seems like Eowyn's a bit out of character, but I don't think that she would be so untouchable or devoid of the tricks and traps of the teen years, especially those concerning crushes. And Eomer would definitely be the brother that would drag a suitor through hell, and then thoroughly trounce any that hurt Eowyn. Big brothers can be a pain, but from what I've had with my own, they do care, even if the only way they know how to show it is to scare the crap out of exes that did wrong.