Summary: Middle Earth was no longer her world; it was theirs. They had taken it by force – with violence and hatred – and she was going to take it back. She would protect what was left of the lingering beauty that still fought through the darkness. This is a story of love, war, courage, and perseverance. Éomer/OC.

Disclaimer: I own ONLY my original characters and their individual storylines. JRR Tolkien was a genius and through his beautiful mind a world was created; and from that world he has given us an opportunity to imagine something so great and outside of ourselves.

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Chapter 10: What's Next?

Her eyes had been full of so many feelings. Éomer could see the maelstrom of fear, relief, desperation and confusion swarm in her bright green orbs. Everything overwhelmed him as well. The fear that her screams had caused him, the anger her appearance had brought him, and the relief her sobs gave him – all of the emotions unsettled Éomer in a way had never been before. They were soon forgotten the moment her broken body stumbled and the moment her voice broke his trance. "My Lord…" Her beautiful voice forced him to release a breath he had not realized he was holding. It never occurred to him that he actually believed he would never hear her speak to him again or see her eyes gaze into his.

The words were all she could muster and her will to fight the pain deteriorated. Her knees buckled as her eyes rolled back into her head. "Lady Catrin!" Éomer shouted but before he could rush to her, a commotion from his left seized his attention. Orcs and Wildmen were retreating but some still fought the éored. One of those that stayed to fight suddenly came after Éomer, his sword held high – hollering as he charged. Éomer risked another glance at the fallen girl and saw Senta standing over her form. Gripping his sword, Éomer turned towards the Wildman, ready for the assault.

The Wildman swung first and Éomer moved swiftly to his left, swinging his own sword to knock the Wildman's from its path. The Wildman stumbled from Éomer's avoidance and turned around aggressively to strike again.

His assailant was breathing heavily, his furs and cloak obviously causing him discomfort. To Éomer's amazement, the Wildman held his sword up again – bearing his yellow-brown teeth at Éomer. "Ya'll die – ya and all yah people! Saruman will see ya rot!" He cried and charged again. Éomer stood rooted, ready with his sword in both hands. He saw the savage eyes and all of the anger from before came rushing back. Anger from Garberand's death, from cities burning full of innocents, and anger from Catrin's obvious torture filled Éomer rapidly. He felt it all and he clenched his jaw and gripped his sword tighter. Just as the man swung his sword, Éomer ducked to his right and swiftly brought his own sword across with all of his strength. Sword met neck and when he felt resistance, he continued transferring his weight forward in one fluid motion. The resistance lifted and his sword came through cleanly. When he turned, the head rolled to his feet. The Wildman's eyes still open.

"Saruman will fall." Éomer said simply and walked away, sheathing his sword effortlessly. The battle had ended – his riders victorious. He surveyed the aftermath and ran to where he had left Catrin as soon as he realized they were safe.

Senta still hovered protectively, nudging her nose impatiently into Catrin's body. The mare was distraught from worry – not knowing why her master lay so still. "Lord Éomer?" A voice spoke from behind him and he knew it to be Theomund's. He gave the boy no attention and slid to his knees at Catrin's side. Her body was still but her heartbeat strong and he placed his hand across her forehead. Slowly he brushed her hair from her face, revealed her bruised cheek, and gashed forehead. Nothing seemed to be broken but he continued his analysis of her injuries. Her shoulder seemed out of place and he moved his hand to push aside her shirt – the exposed skin revealed her contorted shoulder. He hesitated as his rough hand grasped the shoulder cautiously. He braced her chest and pushed then pulled to place the cuff back into its spot. The pop was harsh but he knew it would be for the best. As he pulled the shirt back up to cover her – he saw the trace of bruise forming near her ribs.

"I will kill them all." He whispered harshly and pulled the shirt up from the bottom to avoid revealing her chest fully. The bruises along her ribs were yellowing but the large one that formed along her side was black and seemed to spread repulsively.

"She needs a healer!" Theomund spoke as he approached Éomer from behind. "That looks…" He paused, and swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "My Lord, we need to ride back to Freyden. Orva can help!" Theomund pleaded and darted around to come to one knee beside Éomer.

"Give me your cloak!" Éomer demanded, knowing he needed to get Catrin back to safety. Being on the open fields was risky – there were still enemies roaming the lands.

"Here." Theomund passed the cloak to Éomer – his eyes wide with worry. Éomer covered Catrin's small form in the thick cloak and slowly picked her up, letting the cloak cover her from underneath as well. The movement seemed to make her stir and the sound the escaped her lips jumped him causing him to look down at her face. She never opened her eyes but she curled into his arms, cuddling her head into his chest. "Is she awake?" Theomund questioned.

"Just stirred." Éomer turned from him and faced his éored. The men were waiting patiently – some had injuries but most stood without harm. "We need to ride back to Freyden quickly. Our healers are with the rest of my éored and many of us need attention." His men knew his words were meant for Catrin but they nodded in understanding. The warmth in Éomer's arms gave him a sense of urgency and he rushed to Firefoot. Senta rushed up next to him to make sure Catrin was safe. "Hold her for a moment." Éomer gently let Theomund hold onto Catrin as he saddled Firefoot. TO his amazement, Firefoot crouched down for Theomund to pass Catrin back to Éomer – carefully making sure that she was settled in front of him securely. Firefoot rose slowly and once Éomer felt stable he nodded to his riders. They followed suit – mounting their horses in resolve. "Hiya!" Éomer yelled and the éored rode out towards the ruins of Freyden.

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Yes, this is a VERY short chapter BUTTTT I received NO reviews with my last one! WHAT?! Anyways… please review! I have fun plans coming up in the next few chapters!

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-lexi02