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Queen Arianna of the Barazinbar may have been asleep for the past few weeks, but she wasn't stupid. She saw the glances traded between her favorite friend and the Third Marshall of the Riddermark. She knew what they meant, for she had seen them in her court before.

The two of them were in love.

She was unsure as to how to feel about this. The part of her that was Lothiriel's best friend and closest confidant rejoiced for the happiness that love would bring her friend. The part of her that was a queen viewing her subject was less elated. For she knew that if the two of them were to act upon their feelings it would be a difficult if not completely impossible road for them; for Lothiriel was a foot soldier, not of a high station, and Eomer, with the passing of his cousin Theodred, was now the future king of Rohan, as long as he stayed in his uncle's favor.

"My lady, are you feeling well?" Lothiriel's gentle voice broke her thoughts and Arianna shook her head, glancing over at her raven-haired friend.

"I feel fine, dear Lothiriel, do not fret; my wounds have not caught up to me yet."

Her general looked uncertain, and more than a little bit afraid but let it go, left to wonder what it was that had occupied her beloved friend's thoughts for most of their journey.

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"Does something trouble you, Eomer?" Théoden questioned his nephew, as the younger man looked over his shoulder for what seemed the thousandth time since they had departed from Edoras.

"Nothing, my King, I am merely watching over our riders."

Théoden nodded, smiling to himself; his nephew never had been a good liar. He watched Eomer's eye line as he glanced over his shoulder once more and his smile became privy to all as he discovered that Eomer's hazel-green gaze had landed on the Lady Lothiriel.

Again.

His nephew certainly was an easy man to read.

"You know if you keep looking at her like that you're going to fall off of Firefoot," the King teased in turn, and Eomer's head snapped back with frightening speed. He looked abashed, having been caught spying on Lothiriel.

"Do you care for her?" Théoden questioned none too innocently. Eomer looked away, swallowing hard. He dare not tell his true feelings, but he dare not lie about them either. So instead he chose to say nothing, which was an admittance of sorts. Théoden laughed heartily and even went so far as to reach over and clap his nephew on the shoulder.

"She is a lovely creature."

Eomer nodded, a light blush tingeing his cheeks. He agreed most ardently; she was a lovely creature, but not one that he could seem to grasp any tighter than he could smoke.

"Yes, she is."

"Have you told her this?" Théoden knew that his nephew did not have the ability to charm women the same way his son had. Eomer looked upset at this question.

"Yes, I have told her, several times."

Théoden glanced from Eomer's troubled features to Lothiriel, who was conversing with her queen.

"Did she reject you?" he asked, Eomer gave him a soft glance but did not confirm nor deny it for a long, slightly heated moment. It seemed an odd place to have this conversation, in the lines of his army, but when a king asked you a question, you answered it; and besides, it wasn't as if most of if not all of his men already knew of his love for the dark-haired beauty.

"She told me that she loved me, but that it would be best to ignore our feelings."

Théoden said nothing, simply waiting for Eomer to continue.

"She said that it was impossible, for she is a soldier and now I am in line for a throne. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she would not listen. She says that duty to her country comes first."

Théoden nodded, glancing back at Lothiriel, who was looking back; their eyes caught, just for a moment, but in that moment, he caught every emotion she had attempted to hide from them all in the past few months that they had known her. Fear, sadness, anger, and a deep exhaustion. She was a beautiful, if sad, lady, fierce and stubborn when needed, but submissive to her queen, to those above her in station. She had a charm for her troops, and those of Rohan, she was loyal, perhaps to a fault. She was everything that a queen should be. Everything that the Queens of Rohan had been. His nephew, his heir, could not have made a better choice.

"Perhaps, if I speak with her, she will understand."

Eomer looked hopeful, his eyes lighting up in a way that no one had seen since he was a small child.

"Uncle, I…" the light went out, "I do not wish for her to feel trapped. If it is her wish that I silence my heart, then my heart I shall silence."

Théoden clapped him on the back once more and sighed heavily.

"If that is what you wish," he replied, knowing full well that at the next opportunity, he was going to speak to the woman who had captured his nephew's heart, and hopefully set her straight on who was accepted as a queen of Rohan.

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"Lothiriel?" Arianna stood next to her friend, as the riders stopped to breath for a moment. Lothiriel turned to face her, gently patting Breiseius' cheek. The horse whinnied, and took a step closer to his mistress.

"Yes, my queen?"

"Walk with me, if you would?" Arianna asked gently, offering her arm, more for Lothiriel to prop her up than anything else. Lothiriel took her arm gently and together they broke away from the lines, looking very out of place together. Lothiriel in her riding tunic and leggings, and Arianna in her gown, looking very much the Queen, knowing now that there was no possibility for her to ride out to battle with her troops. Lothiriel would have to lead them in her stead.

They did not notice the men that Eomer sent to watch over them, their eyes sharp beneath their blonde hair.

"Is there something you wished to tell me, Ari?" Lothiriel dropped formalities now that they were alone.

"More something I wish I could ask."

"Anything, Ari, you know that."

Arianna bowed her head for a moment, her auburn curls tickling her cheeks. She looked a tad bit healthier in the sunlight, and she felt a bit better too.

"I wished to ask you about you and Eomer, Lothiriel," Lothiriel's grip on her arm tightened, "I wished to ask you exactly what had been happening while I was ill?"

"My lady, I…Eomer and I…" Lothiriel stuttered but Arianna waited in silence, not aiding her friend in what it was she wished to hear.

"I love him, my lady, and he loves me."

Arianna felt her heart constrict. The two sides of her at war over what to feel.

"Oh? A wedding, then, when this war has ended?"

Lothiriel blushed furiously but shook her head.

"No, dear friend, no, for I told him what I know to be true. Our love is doomed, and so I shall return to the Barazinbar with you, and the Lady Riders. It is what is best for all."

Ari gently patted her friend's hand and sighed the sigh of the long suffering.

"What about what is best for you?" sometimes she hated that her best friend side was what won out when it came to Lothiriel.

"My lady, you know as well as I that a soldier never thinks what is best for her, she thinks of what is best for the many. And my returning to the Barazinbar and my post as your general is what is best for the many."

She seemed certain, if a little sad, and Arianna nodded her head.

"I understand what you are saying, dear friend, but I have to wonder if it is more for self-preservation than for duty."

"My lady?" Lothiriel was confused now; uncertain as to what exactly it was that her queen was attempting to tell her.

"I just wish for you to know, dear Lothiriel, that I wish you happiness of the acutest kind."

"I do not understand, Ari."

Arianna stopped walking, effectively halting Lothiriel alongside her; they were far away from the halted lines now.

"I want you to know, and to understand, Lothiriel, that if being with Eomer is what makes you happy, then that is what I want for you, as a friend and as a queen."

Lothiriel looked as though she had just been struck.

"You do?"

"Yes, of course I do. If you love him, then love him, and take no stock in the feelings of others. I give you my blessing, Lothiriel to do as you wish."

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Eomer watched as Arianna led Lothiriel away from the halted lines and he felt a spasm of fear erupt in his chest. They were in dangerous territory this far away from the city, and while he knew that Lothiriel was a wonderful and loyal soldier, he also knew just how badly injured Queen Arianna was; and he didn't want anything to happen to them.

"Eothain!" he called over his shoulder. His best friend appeared next to him in a matter of seconds.

"Yes, my lord?" he asked, sounding slightly amused as he caught a glimpse of the two women that had caught his leader's eye.

"Send scouts to watch over them, will you? These are dangerous lands in dangerous times."

Eothain bowed slightly; a wry smile still planted firmly on his lips.

"Of course, Eomer," he left to do exactly what was asked of him, whistling the entire way. He had always been a bit of a romantic himself, and he felt, somewhere deep in his heart that the tides were about to change, for all of them.

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Arianna and Lothiriel returned to their steeds just in time to regain their place atop them and rejoin their ranks. Each calling an order or two to keep the lines and move out, following the cues of the Riders of Rohan before them.

Lothiriel rode with a lighter heart, knowing that Arianna was behind her in her love for Eomer did not change her mind about returning to her homeland when the time came, but simply knowing that her friend was with her, that she understood, did much to lighten the load that she was carrying on her shoulders, and in turn made what was to come next much easier to bear. Whatever it may be.

Breiseius suddenly reared, skittish and uncomfortable. Lothiriel attempted to keep control of him, tugging on the reins, calling to him in the Common Tongue and the language of her people. Neither soothed him. The ranks surrounding her suddenly scattered, giving her and her seemingly mad horse some room. The large company of riders halted, all looking as Lothiriel kept attempting to regain control of her beloved stallion.

"Breiseius, please!" she called, turning him, running him in circles, begging for relief, hoping beyond all hope that he would wear himself out before he hurt her, someone else, or even worse, himself.

"Breiseius!" she directed him the other way, and he faltered for a moment before ignoring any command she had given him and taking off at a full gallop, towards the hills that separated them from the evil that was invading.

Lothiriel gave up on trying controlling her stallion and instead concentrated on merely staying atop him. He was going far too fast for her to dismount safely. She heard the heavy tell of galloping behind her, the hooves of someone else's steed attempting to catch her.

Lothiriel felt her heart beat faster and faster and faster, threatening to break her chest. She had never been fearful around horses, and certainly never Breiseius. She had raised him from a colt, but knowing that she wasn't the one to startle him into madness wasn't a relief.

She tugged the reins, hard, managing to turn him back towards the lines. She caught a glimpse of her pursuer. Lord Aragorn. She flashed him a triumphant grin before turning Breiseius once again in a mastery of control. Then she jerked backwards, hard on the reins and Breiseius, like he had all the long years that she had been his mistress, slowed down to a canter, then a walk and finally, stopped completely. Whinnying as though she had stopped a great game.

She dismounted in a great show of anger and jerked down on Breiseius' bridle, bringing his nose close to her own.

"What is wrong with you, you mad beast?" she questioned him softly, but sternly, and he responded with a shifting of his weight.

She stroked his noble nose and spoke to him in the tongue of her own people, a slightly rough tongue that sounded appropriately barbaric to match the fire in her eyes and the strength in her stance. Breiseius visibly calmed and Lothiriel slowly led him back to the lines of soldiers awaiting her return.

"Forgive me," she called out to them, "I fear dear Breiseius has had enough of war."

She stroked his cheek this time, and he nudged her gently, the madness gone, and the easiness of a controlled animal returning. She faced him, sending him an almost warning glance before swinging back atop him and glancing towards King Théoden, who gave her a soft nod.

"Are you all right, Lady Lothiriel?" Aragorn questioned as he came to ride next to her. She looked over at him and smiled softly.

"Yes, I am fine; Breiseius has never run away like that before."

Aragorn gave her steed a glance and cocked his head to the side like he so often did.

"He is a strong and noble creature, but perhaps a bit frightened. Does he pick it up from you, my lady?"

She shook her head.

"No, my lord, I have no idea what it was that frightened him, and I hope never to see it. He has ridden into battle with me more times than I can count, and never has he reacted to a foe like that."

Aragorn nodded, sending her a glance once more before returning to his place beside Théoden King and Eomer. Lothiriel watched him go, feeling more than a little bit foolish that she had allowed her steed to run away like that.

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Finally, they reached the camp situated directly against a sheer rock face, and atop it. Lothiriel watched her surroundings closely, feeling a shiver wrack her spine and Breiseius grow restless beneath her. She leaned forward gently to speak to him, patting his strong neck and soothing him to the best of her ability. Eomer appeared next to her.

"Is something wrong, milady?" he questioned her softly, and she resisted the urge to smile merely at the sound of his voice.

"No, my lord, it seems Breiseius has gotten his fear out of his system, however, that mountain might give us some trouble."

He glanced forward and nodded, looking serious.

"Yes, that mountain can be great trouble."

He pulled ahead of her and back to the side of his uncle, Lady Eowyn not far behind. She turned her noble blonde head towards Lothiriel and sent her a still angry look. Lothiriel ducked her head. It seemed she was still in ill favor of at least one of Eomund's children.

She followed the line up the winding mountain road, her queen ahead of her. Arianna seemed unsure in her saddle, unbalanced and ill. She tilted more than was normal with keeping astride one's horse and Lothiriel felt her heart skip a beat. She looked to the side, over the rock cliff and swallowed. It was a very long way down.

Dear God she hoped no one fell.

Then disaster.

Arianna clutched her side, before going limp and tumbling towards the edge of the cliff, right off her horse and to the rocks below. Lothiriel reacted instantly.

"No!" she shouted, kicking Breiseius forward, her arm snapping out to grip tightly onto Arianna's hand. The force of her dead weight hanging simply by the strength of her arm was almost too much, and Lothiriel felt herself slide in her saddle towards the edge of the precipice that her queen dangled over.

"No, Ari, c'mon!" she shouted, pulling, attempting to right herself. It was no use, Arianna was too sick to aid in Lothiriel's attempt to get her back onto the safety of the path.

Lothiriel kicked Breiseius' sides and got him to back up as far as he could, but the path was too thin, Ari still dangled over the edge. She was slipping, having no grip herself, and Lothiriel grunted, gritting her teeth as she pulled, hard.

"Ari!" she shouted again as she pulled once more, slinging her queen's limp body up and over Breiseius' saddle, holding her there tightly, perspiration erupting on her brow, her heart beating erratically.

"Hang on, Ari," she whispered softly as the path opened up before her and she got her queen to the safety of the camp. Aragorn joined her quickly, watching carefully as Lothiriel rode into the camp, her hand on Ari's back reassuringly.

"Come with me, dear lady," King Théoden spoke as he and Eomer, and Lady Eowyn surrounded Lothiriel and Ari, shielding them from view of the men as they rode to the King's tent.

Lothiriel swung down from Breiseius and before she could do anymore Aragorn stepped up, taking Arianna into his arms and carrying her into the tent, Lothiriel following closely behind like a frightened mother.

"Ari, hold on," she spoke as she hovered over her friend, who looked like death once more. Her gown was removed and Lothiriel saw, for the first time, the extent of her injuries. Her entire torso was covered in a white cloth bandage, now completely bled through.

"Her wounds have reopened, she did too much."

Aragorn looked up at her, but did not speak.

"I should have made her stay behind," her voice sounded choked, like she had been holding back tears, but she ignored it, she ignored the tightening in the back of her throat and instead knelt at the side of her friend. She gently unwound the bandages, Aragorn turning his back like a gentleman. She got out her medicine bag and viewed the wounds. They were raised; ugly bruised and purple, even after all this time. Lothiriel ran her fingers along the deep cuts softly and sighed.

"Oh, Ari."

She quickly applied an herbal cream and poked her head out of the tent for a moment, surprised when she was met with Eowyn's worried face.

"Lady Eowyn!" her surprise was obvious but Eowyn merely smiled.

"What is it you need?"

It took Lothiriel a moment to answer.

"Clean bandages, if you can manage it."

Eowyn nodded and headed out into the camp. Lothiriel stepped back into the tent.

"Thank you Lord Aragorn, but I can handle it from here, until we need to move her again."

Aragorn looked a little unsure but nodded anyway, laying a gentle hand on her arm before taking his leave, his brow furrowed heavily. Eowyn appeared mere seconds after he'd left with bandages in hand, looking triumphant.

Lothiriel took them with a smile and hurriedly changed Arianna's bandages, feeling better when they remained white even as they touched her bruised and battered skin.

"Thank you, Lady Eowyn."

Eowyn smiled and took her hand for just a moment.

"You're very welcome; I hope that she gets well."

Lothiriel nodded, she did too. Because now it was up to her to do everything before a battle that her queen would do, and she had no idea how to do it. The Battle of Helm's Deep had been led by Ari, every battle that Lothiriel had ever fought in had been led by Ari, she wasn't even sure her army would fight without Ari.

"As do I," she heard herself say before leaving the tent. She was looking for Aragorn, but came across Gimli, Legolas, and Eomer instead.

Eomer was tending to Firefoot, Legolas and Gimli just looked slightly startled and almost annoyed.

"The horses are restless, and the men are quiet," Legolas observed.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer supplied as he settled his saddle. Lothiriel listened with interest.

"That road there," Gimli pointed with his chin to what seemed hardly more than a crevice in the mountain side, "where does that lead?

"That is the road to the Dimholt," Legolas supplied, "The door under the mountain."

"None who venture there ever return," Eomer retorted, looking genuinely worried, "that mountain is evil."

Lothiriel couldn't help herself, she scoffed. All three heads snapped over to look at her and she shrugged, unimpressed.

"Evil? Sounds like a lot of hokum and superstition."

Eomer gave her a rare, wry smile.

"The souls that dwell in that mountain are cursed, dear lady, perhaps you should show them a bit more respect?"

"If they are cursed, then they must have done something to deserve it, therefore I doubt they deserve my respect, even if I were willing to give it," she snapped back.

Legolas and Gimli looked from one to the other; unsure if this was arguing or playful banter.

"Lady Lothiriel?" Aragorn appeared at her side, quickly diffusing the situation.

"Yes, my lord?" she turned, looking up at him with an irrepressible grin. There was something about Aragorn that she liked; a sense of honor and loyalty.

Eomer felt his chest constrict and suddenly he felt very much like punching Aragorn in his face. He didn't like the smile that Lothiriel was sending him.

"Does Lady Arianna need moved?"

Lothiriel looked over her shoulder and Sheatha caught her eye, nodding.

"Yes, the tent is up."

And so it was; a brilliant crimson with black trim, Sheatha standing before it, looking ill at ease, shifting from foot to foot as Aragorn carried in a still limp Ari.

Lothiriel made sure that she was settled and comfortable. She left orders that Renaewa and Querita were to stay behind and guard the tent, and to come and retrieve her if there was any change in their queen's condition.

Then she exited, clapping a hand onto Sheatha's shoulder.

"I want a full run down of our numbers, dividing them into specialties, and then I want those numbers reported back to me."

Sheatha nodded, bowing her head slightly and leaving her general to do as asked. Eomer came to take her place.

"You are to lead your troops now?" he asked her, even though he already knew the answer. She nodded.

"Yes, once more my queen is ill, and it is my duty to step forward."

It was his turn to nod.

"Duty before anything else?" he questioned and she knew that was a jab at her rejection of him, but she ignored it.

"Of course, I'm a soldier, it's in my blood."

She left him standing there, she had nowhere to go, but she needed to escape his side. His warmth was too much; his sarcastic attitude towards her was an emotional stab in the gut. It hurt.

She knew that she deserved it. She had probably hurt him just as badly if not worse, but still, it was a difficult pill to swallow. She wrapped her arms tightly around her and jumped nearly a foot in the air when a warm hand was pressed to her shoulder.

"Oh!" she turned, shocked to find King Théoden standing behind her, looking just as startled as she felt. Then he grinned.

"Forgive me, Lady Lothiriel, I did not mean to frighten you."

She smiled and shook her head.

"No, that's quite all right, I suppose I was just lost in my thoughts, my lord," she replied, giving him a small bow and his grin intensified as he took her hand.

"I wonder if you would take a walk with me?"

It was the second time that a royal had requested a walk with her in a day, but Lothiriel shrugged that off and nodded, taking the offered arm.

"Of course."

They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes until they reached the outer edge of the encampment and then Lothiriel felt herself start to get suspicious.

"My lord, I am beginning to feel that you wanted a little more than a simple walk."

Théoden had the good graces to look at least slightly abashed and nodded.

"I admit, I wished to speak to you about a matter that is…private."

Lothiriel loosened her grip on his arm.

"Oh?"

He sighed heavily and turned to look at her.

"You are a lovely lady, dear Lothiriel; I can see why it is my nephew is in love with you."

She stood there, completely shocked, her mouth agape.

"My lord…I…"

"I just wish you to know," he cut her off, "that if for some reason you rejected him because of the misguided notion that I, or my people would not accept you as the future queen, that you needn't put that into your mind anymore."

Her mouth fell open again.

She was silent and then somehow, regained her senses.

"My lord, are you telling me that you give me your blessing?"

He smiled and clasped both her hands with his.

"I am telling you, that any objection that you had of my nephew, because of station, does not matter anymore."

"But surely you want someone of noble birth to…"

He shook his head.

"I want Eomer to be happy. You make him happy, Lady Lothiriel."

She felt as though she had just finished spinning on her childhood swing and was currently watching the leaves of the trees above her; circle her head as though they had wings.

"My lord?" she questioned once more, unsure of what was expected of her.

"If you love him, dear lady, then tell him so. For these times can very quickly take away what we hold most dear."

And with that he left her to her thoughts, walking back towards camp. Lothiriel watched him go, her heart fluttering. She had just been given her blessing by the two people in the world who could have truly stood in the way of her and Eomer but now did not know what to do with those blessings. She loved Eomer, she truly did, and she was certain that he still loved her. But the things said between them, the rejection that she'd already put him through. Not to mention that Eowyn currently had her at the top of a very bad list.

Then there was the matter of her troops, and her queen. Not that they would object, per se, but would she be abandoning them if she stayed in Rohan with Eomer? Would that make her a deserter? Certainly, women left the Riders to get married and start families, but they never went to completely different lands; and they certainly never left to become queens.

But maybe that was her destiny; maybe she and Eomer really were meant to be. After all, she had been given blessings by the two people she'd been worried the most about. That had to be a sign, right?

Now she was more confused than ever. She had no idea that a heart could be torn in so many different directions. But then, she loved Eomer, she wanted to marry him, but the question was, did he still want to marry her?