AN: Thanks for following, reading, and reviewing! Short-ish chapter, but I wanted to get something up so I can start focusing on the next chapter. Things have been set in motion that cannot be undone….

"All right," said Eomer, tightening the girth on his mount's saddle. "Lord Gimli, you're looking well this morning. Shall I describe for you what we have planned?"

Gimli sat grumpily on his pony. "Might as well get it over with," he muttered.

"We've planned a dance," the king announced, jumping up onto his horse and swinging his other leg over the saddle. "At the end of which, you will choose your bride."

Gimli choked. "Wha-what? That fast? You expect me to pick a wife within the space of one evening?!"

"Well, yes. We do these sorts of things in Rohan all the time."

"King Eomer, you must understand that dwarves go about these sort of things much… er… slower. Would you at least give me some time to think about it?" Gimli pleaded.

"Well, I suppose you could have a bit longer. But no more than a fortnight. My advisers are eager to wrap up this treaty," the king allowed. He raised his voice and called to his several companions, "We ride southeast!"

Gimli didn't mention that even with a fortnight to think about it, getting married to a strange human women was never something he had wished for or even imagined. But before he could start feeling too sorry for himself, that annoying voice in the back of his mind felt it pertinent to mention, "I'm sure Finna never envisioned marrying a human stranger, either, but that's exactly what you wanted to make her do."

He could kind of understand why Finna had been so adamant against it.

"Your beard is so long, Lord Gimli!" a buxom blonde exclaimed, reaching out an eager hand.

"DON'T touch the beard!" Gimli cried instinctively. He instantly felt bad for snapping, but the blonde whose name escaped him only laughed and replied, "Looks like someone's pretty protective!"

"How long does it take you to do your hair in the morning?" a slim honey-haired maiden wanted to know. He was pretty sure that this one's name was Renna.

"Well, er… about an hour, when I do braid it. Most of the time I just leave the braids in overnight," he explained, feeling utterly awkward and out of his depth.

"That's amazing! I've never known a man to spend so much time on his hair! Although, you're not quite a man, because you're a dwarf," a black-haired girl giggled.

Gimli was standing in the great hall of Meduseld clutching a mug of the famous Rohirric brew, surrounded by no less than fifteen women of high status and great beauty. Not to mention the fact that they were all at least a foot taller than him. The dancing had not yet actually begun, because Eomer insisted that they "get to know each other" a bit. However, Gimli had never been the best with names, and tonight was no exception. How was he supposed to choose a bride if he couldn't even remember her name?

"King Eomer told us that you rode to battle with him at the Black Gate?" the blonde gushed. Her name was Hilda? ...Helga? Gimli was focusing so hard on trying to remember her name that he almost forgot to respond.

"Ah, yes," he said. "I did."

Then he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Fortunately, the girls were more than willing to fill in the gaps in conversation.

"What does it look like?"

"Were you terribly frightened?"

"How many orcs did you slay?"

The questions came rapid-fire, and an overwhelmed Gimli floundered as he tried to answer them all satisfactorily. Amid the barrage of inquiries came a sharp piercing note from a keyed fiddle. The dance was about to begin. Gimli reluctantly set down his mug of ale and looked around at all the pairs of eyes that were fixed on him. He supposed he would have to ask one of them to dance. He could only remember about three names, so that severely limited his options.

"Renna?" he said, extending his hand gruffly to the honey-haired maiden. "May I have this dance?"

Renna smiled proudly to be chosen first. "Of course, Lord Gimli," she laughed. Her ears pricked up at the beginning notes of the song. "This is a famous folk-song among my people!" she cried. "It tells of the great deeds of Eorl the Young and the founding of Rohan. Come, let us dance!" She took his hand and led him merrily to the middle of the floor.